Feb 23rd - Part 3: Musu

We hopped in the van and rushed off toward the place where the cane rat (musu) clan was getting down. Here, Omutaka Nakirembeka had said that there were a group of youth who were visiting the obutaka – precisely the folks I wanted to chat with.

We bounced through a region that seemed to have an inordinate number of drum-makers, from whose stalls the signature round, furry Ugandan drums hung in every shade of mottled white, brown, black and auburn.

A long dusty ride through the country brought us to a large clearing, where the sound of drums rang through the air – the gathering of the musu. Right after getting out of the van, we were led to a special tent where Lady Sylvia Nagginda Luswata herself, the Queen of Buganda, was seated with her coterie. Sweaty and dusty, I was led to greet her highness – one of the security guards extended his arm to keep me from getting too close, as the Omutaka told me to greet her but not touch her or extend my hand. I slightly bowed, honored to be there.

Then, it was time for more food - including another delicious luwombo. After food, Arne and I moved closer to the music and I got dragged into a dance (the video attached here). After that, the head of the Musu clan told us the wonderful origin story, that involved a ghost imitated by (of course) a cute little muskrat-like musu.

We went to the graves of the old chiefs, and briefly saw the origin place, where young people in light blue smocks were receiving traditional blessings.

After that, we went to a set of buildings that looked exactly like the descriptions I read of traditional shrines (essabo). There, all of us (including the omutaka) fed the fireplaces and asked for blessings. Here are some pictures of the different homes of the spirits - of reeds, brick, banana leaves.

Feb 23rd - Part 2: Ndiga

Shortly after Arne and I left to get pens for people to fill out the surveys, Anatoli called to say the Omutaka had arrived and was ready to go. BTW, I want to be sure to state here that Arne took basically all the pictures today (just a few of which I've clipped and put here).

We loaded into the Omutaka's van, painted with a seal identifying it as an official vehicle of the kingdom – and were off to stop #1 – the installation of the heir to the last chief of the ndiga (sheep) clan. When we rolled up, we were escorted to seats right behind the chiefs who sat in the front row of the VIP canopy on big padded chairs.

Several other canopies surrounded an open meadow, with a table set in the center, where a priest was saying Mass. Beyond the canopies were large round tent-like structures covered with tarpaulins and bark-cloth where the family of the deceased traditionally sleep before this last memorial. Today, one year after the death, is the last time they can cry about the dead – an official end to mourning and new start. Next to that were people preparing food in huge cauldrons.

Seated on bark-cloth in the meadow were the sisters and wife of the deceased. And standing at the altar, with bark-cloth togas were his heir and (I think) his cousin, who is his symbolic ‘wife’ for this occasion.

One of the strangest things about this affair was the mix of African tradition with Catholic mass. There was a full service, along with communion. – By the way, there were little plastic bags lying around that said ‘host’ and had a picture of a chalice on them that I thought were once filled with communion wafers, I stuffed one in my pocket thinking my mom would love the ketch factor – I later found out they were bags of vodka ---- Yes VODKA. I scanned it for your enjoyment – healthful, with no hangover!  

Anyhow, the priest officially recognized new heir and then said prayers over the gravesite, where people did the traditional ritual of cleaning it off. Then, people went into the obutaka, where they did several older traditions. The first was drinking from pots of water with a gourd: this is supposed to bring blessings. Much as I need the blessings, I don’t know if I had enough faith to trust (as Anatoli said) that it was ‘traditionally pure’.

Next was offering prayers by setting money at gourds filled with traditionally brewed beer and cleaning the gravesite of older chiefs. Shoes needed to be removed before entering this sacred space, and a man who didn’t was taken by spirits – which left him convulsing and wailing in the bush beyond.

George Mugera had told me the story of the origin of the Ndiga clan, and one of the main roles is played by a tree, where the body of a hero is caught and eventually falls to a barkcloth below – unfortunately, I was around the corner from this very tree, but failed to get its picture. We’ll have to wait for next time!

Now it was time for a HUGE meal from those big cauldrons. The most surprising and wonderful treat was a chicken steamed in a banana leaf (luwombo). Of course there were lots of starches, and Vianney would’ve definitely said it was “real” food.

Feb 23rd - Part 1: Guest of the Omutaka

Well, today started bright and early. Arne and I were supposed to be at the palace by 8:30, to meet Omutaka Nakirembeka. As per his request, I'd copied off a series of surveys to distribute to young Baganda folks to see what they knew about their clans. 

We arrived right on time. As we flipped through magazines aimed at Ugandans in the UK, a few folks joined us, including Anatoli (who was acting as Luganda translator for the day) and the heads of two other clans, the dog (mbwa) and the 'rainwater that falls off the roof' (ky'ababoobi). Now, that last clan leads me to an important point with regards to my original thoughts when coming here. 

You see, at first I was thinking about helping to design a program that relates youth to conservation and the environment by focusing on animals and plants that act as traditional clan totems. Now, that's all well and good for things like leopards (ngo), wild potato vines (kkobe) and termite-mound mushrooms (butiko). But the clans also include a fair number of things that AREN'T animals or plants - ranging from lungs  (maugwe)  to cooking pots (ntamu). The picture here shows a section of a wall at Bulange palace depicting various clan totems - here we have a grasshopper (Nsenene), Monitor Lizard (Nswaswa), Snout Fish (Nsuma?) and ... excrement - yep, poop. 

So, by focusing on an organism-human connection among Baganda clans, it's narrowed by not only the tribe - but by particular clans within the tribe. This fact makes me think that a better idea might be the idea of connecting people with sacred space, regardless of their clan.

Now.. this day was sooo busy that I'm going to divide it into 3 parts: the heir installation among the Ndiga, the celebration of the Musu, and crowd madness at UB40 (you'll see when you get there - which is ironically probably before you get here).

Market Afternoon

After Lusiti, I rushed over to Rubaga hill to meet again with George Mugera. This time, he shared the stories telling the origin of the heart (mutima) and sheep (ndiga) clans. Like the ngeye story, they wove together characters, places, names and the envionment - though for these two - as you can already tell - they didn't have as powerful a connection with the conservation piece. 

Anyhow, after we finished, I said that I wanted to go to the market and get some chicken. But not just any old chicken - we're talking so fresh it's still clucking chicken. So, here, for your enjoyment are some pictures of a typical urban African market in 2008.... ah... if only there was smell-o-vision,  you could better appreciate the full sensory experience. 

So, first, are pictures of our lucky chicken before and after (yes, this is the same chicken folks) - and the fee for dispatching and cleaning this fair bird was a mere 35¢! 

 

A fish monger is captured, whisk in motion to keep those flies on their toes, and, for a snack, just ask the nice lady to break off a few pieces of this lovely dried fish-mobile. To help with the smell, the lady at the bottom can sell you some garlic, onions and ginger.

Oh... and the last picture - Easter eggs. Now I realize I actually am completely insane. I had seen food color in one of the markets, and had to buy it. I mixed it with some white vinegar and boiling water and - voila! - Easter egg dyes. It didn't stop me that the only thing available was brown eggs. I used candle wax to do resist printing on egg number one and just dipped egg number two.

To add to the sillyness of this exercise, I did it by the dim candlelight of a blackout. As part of a 'load sharing' program, the electricity periodically gets cut off around Kampala. That sounds sensible (kind of) - but somehow I have a hard time believing there's any planning involved when power just goes in and out for a couple of hours at a time, even 

seemingly critical places like the airport. Anyhow, here's evidence of my egg-straoridinary evening!

Feb 22nd: Tokiiya ŋŋonge nto

"Never Underestimate an Otter" is the rough meaning of the Luganda proverb that titles today's journal - a reminder that even small things can make a big difference.

It's an appropriate quote to describe my visit to a place outside of Lusiti, a place especially I was told is especially sacred to the people of the otter (ŋŋonge) clan. (BTW, those first two letters are nasalized 'n's, like the ng at the end of the word 'sing'.)

This journey represented the resolution of a mid-trip crisis. After being quoted an exorbitant price to visit this place (the equivalent of about 2 weeks full-time wages for a middle-class person), I felt conflicted about going -  a bit taken advantage of and foolish.

To add to my angst I got this book called 'Witchcraft Revealed' that left me uncomfortable. It was written by a devout priest who made it his mission to expose the lies and treachery of witchcraft in Uganda through a number of former witches who "spilt the beans".

 

Though one could argue the legitimate value of connecting with ancestral spirits, herbal healing, counseling etc... there were some stomach-churningly graphic  pictures in here - including a bunch of pictures of human sacrifices. How, I wonder, did they get these guys to pose with the head of a little boy in their arms? Lord knows,  but there they were, and clearly without any photoshop involved. 

This made me not only uncomfortable with the cost, but a bit with the idea of visiting this place. It didn't help that none of the Africans I'd been working with had ever been to any of these sites themselves. I made the decision that it was too costly, and (especially since the Omutaka was taking us to places on Saturday for free) decided to bow out. 

Happily, Peace turned it around. She called the original guy who was going to take us and asked how we would get there on our own.  So, Friday morning we found ourselves in a dusty bus lurching toward Lake Victoria, and the sacred place of the otter.

Now, this was really being in Africa! In the shadow of the large yellow rock towering above the lake that formed the heart of the obutaka were men sitting on bark cloth playing omweso, a more complicated version of the mancala game played throughout Africa. Nearer the stone, a medium sat on another piece of bark cloth amidst many different kinds of offerings. Toward the lake, spears surrounded smoking fire-pits, burning altars to the various gods - most importantly, the god of Lake Victoria, Mukasa.  

 

There were many different shrines - too many for me to describe here -  but the wonderful thing about this place was how positive the energy felt. Unlike some people had told me, it was not literally (or figuratively) dark. It was clearly a place that people came for healing, a bright, special, sunny sentinel on the shores of the gently lapping waters. In the end, we were asked to donate whatever we felt was appropriate in our hearts - and even being generous to our guide and the spirits of the shrine we wound up paying only about 1/5 of the cost we had been quoted earlier.

The pictures show men playing omweso, an offering of meat and raw plantains for Mukasa, and a sacred rock covered with barkcloths representing Walumbe, who heals diseases. The video is our guide playing one of the bells worn by the dogs of Ddungu, the god of the hunt.

FEB 21st: Ssezibwa Falls

Today started out with a trip to meet Omutaka Nakirembeka Alan Waliggo, the head of the heart (mutima) clan and the Bataka's appointed chief of all the clan heads. It couldn't have gone better! The Omutaka was warm, well-educated, and very interested in collaborating. 

Not only did he offer to do what he could to help shape the project - which is moving toward the conservation of sacred spaces and stories, he shared a related undertaking - a program to take young Baganda to the origin places of their clans. What was even more wonderful was that he invited us to two events on Saturday. One was the seating of the heir of the deceased leader of the sheep (ndiga) clan, the other was to accompany youth visiting the obutaka of the cane rat (musu) clan. We agreed to be at the palace in Bulange at 8:30 Saturday  morning, and then headed off to Ssezibwa falls.

Ssezibwa is on the way to Jinja (the source of the Blue Nile), where two springs come out of the earth. In traditional Baganda culture, this fact is especially significant because twins are traditionally considered a special honor. 

So, 2 hours of a crowded matatu and a short boda ride brought us to the humble entrance station, where we were joined by a wonderful guide who led us up the falls. The plunging water is not associated with a particular clan, but is a sacred space for all the Baganda, kept by a woman who advises people and maintains a set of altars. 

Here, a common way to honor the gods is to throw an animal (usually a sheep or goat) off the top of the falls. If the animal survives the ordeal, the gods have given their blessings. If not, some further work or another sacrifice needs to be made. According to our guide, sheep lovers need not fear - too much - supposedly 7 out of 10 survive the plunge. In fact, he said that many of these creatures take a the dive a few times before being 'retired'. But, humans, it seems are not so lucky. The force of the water, he said, is so strong that it generally holds a man down for 4-5 days before the lifeless body comes floating to the surface.

The top picture is Vianney posing at the livestock drop-off point, as if he's just sent a goat on a cliff dive. To the left are offerings at the mouth of a cave where a sacred python is given eggs to ask or give thanks for blessings (the twin-spouted pots are associated with the birth of twins). Below is a dish showing the usual offering at local sacred places - cowrie shell money, coffee beans, and modern cash.

FEB 20th: City Scenes

Today was pretty much a wash - hours of waiting to change tickets at Kenyan Airways, a long time perusing the biggest bookstore in town - cutting my life by years with each hour spent breathing the fumes of Kampala. So, I decided to post a selection of city scenes for you to appreciate the chaos of this big city, now pushing almost 1.5 million. BTW, the big pink sign is announcing a music and drumming competition held between the different Baganda clans.