Whistling, Listening, a New Name, and a Move

I know I said I would only update once a week, but since the ABIDE interns (AIM missionaries working with JAM) purchased AMAZING internet for the ABIDE house I am using it as often as I can to keep you updated.

Whistling: I love to whistle while I work. Sometimes I don’t even know I am doing it. Unfortunately, in UG, whistling is not an option for girls. I have been reprimanded by a few people, and laughed at by others in those rare moments when I forget myself and begin whistling. I have conducted extensive research on why whistling is not allowed for girls (meaning I have asked 10 people here). Here is what I have learned:
1) Only men whistle because only they can communicate that way
2) It is not acceptable for a girl to be walking about with her lips pointed out
3) if a wife whistles, she shows she does not respect her husband and he is shamed
4) if girls whistle their cheeks will stick out forever
5) (perhaps the most realistic answer) it was meant to further subjugate women in this country, along the lines of – women may not eat chicken (as it is only for men), women may not drink milk (as it is only for men) and women may not whistle.
The head master of the school told me that to this day his mother does not eat chicken, as it is reserved only for the men.

Listening: my brain gets tired sometimes of listening to and then interpreting the “English” “R”s become “L”s and vowels are different. It has led to some pretty hilarious conversations as I have misunderstood someone, and they have in turn misunderstood me. Sometimes we go round and round before either of us realize that neither of us knows whats going on. Additionally I get thrown off when they switch from Rukiga / runyankore to English and back….. mainly I just smile and nod and try to listen as much as possible to the responses of those around me.

A new name: when CC and I first came to UG in 2006 we met a lady at a tea place who gave us African names. I always liked CC’s – Makalena , but mine….. not so much – Namizi. It sort of means “water”. On the way from Kishanje to Mbarara Uncle AH asked me if I had a name yet, so I told him about “namazi” as neither he, nor the other Ugandans in the found the name acceptable, they renamed me: Busingye, meaning “peace”. Here the names they give are reflections of what God gives us. God gives us peace. I smiled when Uncle AH told me that they decided on that name because I am such a peaceful and quiet person…. Hahahah…. Now I have decided to work towards living up to such a name. (on a side note, I keep forgetting my name and then get laughed at when I forget to respond).

A Move: My heart has been heavy and not at peace for the past week or so. Ever since leaving Kishanje I have felt pulled in that direction. There are literally hundreds of children there in tough situations. By tough I mean- child headed families – physical / sexual abuse – lack of food – lack of water. I spent the week praying and felt released to ask if I can go from Mbarara to Kishanje. I spoke with the necessary JAM personnel and received the go-ahead. This morning I also spoke with my host parents who were such a blessing and so kind and supportive. Such a relief!! This move is difficult. I am nervous. It is rural and remote and rough. But I am content in knowing I am meant to go there.

Consequently, at the end of this week when I journey towards the village, my blog updates will be less regular. I will have to travel about 2 hours to reach a town with internet. So…. Keep me in your prayers!!