Streaks of colour whizzed past us, in striking contrast to the reddish-brown sandy background that had even lent their colour to the leaves on the trees. It was hot and dry outdoors, but a fascinating ride as we made our way to Jinja, source of the Nile, where we would be spending Christmas with our host and her extended family. Every so often, a motorcycled spectacle would overtake us – women dressed in vivid reds and oranges, yellows, blues and greens, festively styled hair, sitting pillion, at times children on their laps. Motorcycles laden with gifts and wares from families returning from the big city to their homes in little towns to spend Christmas with their loved ones. Vegetables, fruits, livestock, clothes, toys…they had them all. Motorcycles that had celebration written all over them.
The motorcycles were just a teaser to the greater spectacle that would unfold the next day. Not one of glamour and razzmatazz, but of a Christmas filled with the warmth of a family kitchen, and the love and hospitality of the Ugandan people. One that had dollops of local flavor and charm. This was evident the morning of Christmas Day as we stopped to buy fish on our way to the home we would be spending the day at. No sooner had the fish been chosen and paid for, then the pair of tilapias were tied to the front fender of the car and travelled the rest of the journey with us, ceremoniously announcing our arrival at our destination.
Our destination was a lovely little home set in a larger garden that offered enough and more to see adults and children alike through the day. There was our host and family and her extended family of sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews. Chairs were brought out on the lawns as were the beers…what else but Nile in the land of the Nile. The women got to work soon enough behind the kitchen, in an assembly line kind of operation, chopping and sautéing and cooking, and rolling and frying. The men, meanwhile, were at work in the front of the house, marinating the meats and setting up the barbecue. The kids were given cans of paint and a free hand to paint a wall of the house and were soon deliriously absorbed in playing artists.
And my friend and I who were visiting from India? We decided to go across to the Holy Trinity Church in nearby Bukaya to attend a Christmas morning mass. It was a service as cozy as small town services are, where everyone knows everyone else and newcomers get noticed. And so when my friend decided to join the choir and play the djembe, not only did it find a mention in the thanksgiving speech at the end of the service, but we were also invited to the sacristy where we were asked to sign the visitor’s book and treated to a cold soda. All this even as a lady in the sacristy, in response to our curiosity about her outfit, proceeded to show us how the gomesi (the traditional dress women wear which derives its name from a Goan called Gomes who designed them) is draped, much to the embarrassment of the Cameroon priest who held his head down through the demonstration. And again like all small towns, we walked back to our ‘Christmas’ home meeting people on the way, stopping at a neighbourhood bar to have a beer, chatting with some of those who had accompanied us back from the church service.
Back ‘home’ it was time for more Niles, this time laced with Amarula. The barbecue had been set up and there was much chatter and laughter as the meats cooked and more Niles were passed around. Somewhere in the garden, a neighbor with dreadlocks had parked himself and was threading beaded bracelets. Elsewhere, children and adults alike were engrossed in skipping games.
Lunch of local delicacies was a lovely buffet set in the garden…some sat on the lawns, some on mats, others on chairs and cemented platforms. It was a relaxed afternoon of good food, good music and great company. As is customary after a good meal, some grabbed a short nap on the lawns, while yet others played a game of football.
As evening fell, we walked down to the shores of Lake Victoria and looked out and beyond at the source of the Nile (the actual spot we would visit the next day). The setting sun provided a magnificent backdrop to soak in the tranquility and serenity of the moment and the beautiful day that had preceded it. Winding up at 2 am at a local bar in Jinja, one could only look back at a day filled with family warmth and love that one experiences back home, but with a different family and in a different country.
