A Couple of Random Conversations and Accoutrement

One of the perks of subscribing to a particular Ugandan cell phone service is the MTN Joke of the Day. Yesterdays zinger, which cost me about ten cents, was, and I quote:

“The Russians are very jealous of the American’s stealth bombers, so they’ve decided to build their own.”

While Brad and I are eating lunch the other day at a little hole-in-the-wall joint near our house. A younger guy, taller than Brad or me, sits down next to us at our picnic table and orders the same thing we are having: rice, beans, irish (potatoes), and chapati. Brad and I, that is to say, enjoyed our meal together. Conversation took a respite while we focused on the task before us, pausing only occasionally to sip from our Coca Cola. Unbeknownst to us, the man on my immediate left exercised his ability to turn into a human vacuum cleaner and inhaled his equally-portioned plate in record time. Now, I am no speed demon at the dining table, nor have I been traditionally (unless my parents suddenly brought up the topic of schoolwork or girlfriends), but this guy sitting next to me had finished his plate of food just as I had reached the halfway point. I raised my jaw from its wadir to ask him to explain his superhuman ability, per usual my eloquence elicits profound conversation.

“Dude, you eat really fast.”
He looked at me with the faintest trace of a grin. “That is what I do.”
Silence. Not the response Brad or I was expecting. Nevertheless, the conversation was the perfect segue to my next statement:
“You’re tall, dude. How tall are you?”
He gets up, leaves his money on the table, and makes toward the door. Before he exits, he turns to me and offers the obvious reply, “Taller than you.” Then he heads out, leaving me slack-jawed and Brad on the verge of rupturing some vital organ from laughing so hard.

The next incident involved Brad and I in a shopping venture over by the Mbale market. Brad had his eyes set on a snazzy pair of $12 alligator skin dress shoes and decided to see if they carried his size, so we plopped down on a bench next to a weathered Ugandan shoe shiner. Usually in this situation we decide to initiate some conversation, exchange the curious stare for a bit of cultural insight, so Brad began with an inquiry into the weather, of which all Ugandans are experts.

Brad: “Do you think it will it rain today?”
Shoe shiner: “Yes. But it will rain later, at seven o‘clock…or four.”

Brad decided Uganda was not ready for a white man with alligator shoes and we opted to move on, lest we get caught in the 4 pm rainstorm.

Actually, I have found the Ugandan sense of humor to be one of the best I have encountered. It is perhaps a product of his or her perpetually-optimistic attitude that the average Ugandan feels the need to joke and laugh, and it is contagious. Yes, life is hard, but from every tier of society, be it Muslim or Evangelical, wealthy or poor, crippled or athletic, humor is important and remains a fixture in any daily interaction. I’m not joking!