So yesterday, me and two of our neighbors, Sandra and Keith,
undertook the highly necessary but overwhelming job of cleaning the front of
our house. This happened because I had just spent more hours than I care to
admit washing my clothes (unfortunately the problem of procrastination in
laundry which plagued me in college (ahem) has followed me to Uganda, and even
more unfortunately, now that doesn’t mean that I have a bigger bag to throw
down the stairs to the machines, but rather more hours sitting in the chair
scrubbing) and I had left over water. I started by just mopping the front
verandah with my soapy water, but soon Keith and Sandra were saying, Anna! Let
us help!
This is something that I find incredible in the culture
here. Children really really want to help. Every time I do my laundry, kids
offer to help. Heck, every time I do anything, kids are ALWAYS offering to
help. And then when you do accept them to help you with cleaning, they really
enjoy it. It’s not a chore, it’s something to do, and something to do with
other people you love and care for.
So I said, OK! And figured with the extra hands, maybe we
could wash off the walls which have been engrained with dirt and mud over the
past who-knows-how-long by dirty kids trying to be spiderman. (One of our
neighbors’ favorite activities is to yell “SPIDERMAN!” And run at the wall,
trying to climb up it. When they all do it in unison, it provides endless
entertainment for us. However, this activity results in an INCREDIBLY dirty
wall).
Thus, a few minutes later saw me turning on my music as loud
as it goes, and with Keith and Sandra, beginning to attack the wall. Literally,
within minutes, we had a crowd of kids and some adults staring at us, both from
inside and outside our fence, laughing. One thing I’ve learned here… people
here almost NEVER laugh AT you; rather, when they laugh, they are usually
either happy or surprised (not mutually exclusive). I’m sure we were a sight,
though: a mzungu who didn’t really know what she was doing, with two small
children who were directing her, all at various heights and standing on various
pieces of furniture, knocking down spiderwebs, cleaning rags, and scrubbing at
a wall. Besides all that, as we worked, occasionally either Keith or Sandra
would yell out, “Stop working! It’s time to dance!” and we would take a dance
break for a song or two, then resume our cleaning.
I looked to the side of our house, and all the older females
of the neighborhood were gaping at us, and calling me over. One asked me,
“Anna, why are you cleaning?” I answered because it was dirty. To which she
then replied, “Ah yes, we were wondering if people even lived there because it
was so dirty. But now people will not doubt that you live there.” Oops. That’s
embarrassing.
I learned a few things. First of all, I learned even more
deeply and truly the importance of cleanliness to this culture. It’s an
interesting thing… in this town of constant dust and mud coating everything,
people are more concerned about cleanliness than anywhere I’ve ever been in
America. It is not uncommon to sweep your dirt, to make it look cleaner. Now, I
was a little embarrassed that we haven’t measured up to the standards held by
the local culture, but now I have a determination to do the best I can. It even
seems like a respect issue… I am respecting you, my visitor, by having a clean
house. An interesting thing.
Secondly, I learned something about the love of a neighbor.
These two kids spent their entire afternoon helping me clean, instead of
playing with the football like they usually do. But they saw what I was doing,
and helping me was way better than playing games.
Thirdly, I think I learned something more about the dignity
of work, and in doing hard work, that one can take pride in. Keith and Sandra
helped me make the front of our house spick and span, and as soon as we were
finished, yes we invited all the watching children to come and play on our
porch, but they made sure that everyone washed his or her feet before stepping
forward. So, as we spent the next half hour playing sports together, we left
our completed work, but with a feeling of accomplishment.
Fourthly, dancing. This is a yearlong lesson: When there’s
an opportunity to dance, take it.
Sending love from Africa: keep dancing, my friends.
