Let's Go Out In Arua....

Yesterday Richard (in the white shirt in the right back of the photo) invited me to a cousin's wedding in Arua.

We just had to make one stop at some friends' house before going to the wedding reception...Richard is originally from Arua, but lives and works in Kampala. We met some months ago, where I was introduced to a group of Ugandans my age, who also like loud music, to drink a few beers and talk straight (and who don't run for the church on Sunday mornings). 

I appriciate that. I haven't otherwise found it easy to meet like-minded Ugandans, and often my company, if going out, most likely is to concist of fellow Danish development workers or other ex-pats. And here the topic of how frustrating work is often sets the agenda. Doesn't really get you inside African culture. I have sort of accepted that, but I am really looking out for these parts when living in another country.

In Serbia, where the lack of money also determined to what level you could take the party,  my friend Saša's brother, Bob, would make riblja čorba in a huge pot on the top of their 6 floor something building in Novi Beograd, and others would add beers, homemade rakija and gandja. The South African way of making a party is another story, and not to be elaborated on here, it contains too many issues which would be considered illegal outside a South African context. In general, is not about the money, it is about the people.

In Arua, you kill a goat, turn it into 'muchomo' on the barbecue, buy beers in crates, and turn up the volume of the linghala music - the Congolese music from just the other side of the border. And then people discuss issues like 'Which one has the blackest skin?', 'If men can use bodylotion, because their skin flakes in the dry season?', 'The taste of beers', or 'How to get rid of Kony?'

I do admit that the situation on the photos more resemble someone moving house, than actually having a garden party going. By the way - we never made it for the wedding...