You Want Ganja?

You Want Ganja?

 (Picture of Goat Liver Kabobs, Not Gonja)

You can imagine the surprised look of shock on my face, when asked "You want ganja?", while traversing through the hillside of Uganda.  And even more surprising, it was a Pastor who raised this question? I knew that in the USA, and in Jamaica, that ganja was marijuana. Many thoughts were ricocheting through my mind: one such thought  was, were things really all that different here in Uganda?'  Did this renowned, world travelled Pastor from Uganda, just offer me Ganja? I wondered if he had spent any length of time in Amsterdam. And if so, did some of their practices rub off on him?

Rather than continue on the treadmill of wonder and surprise, I thought I should ask him to repeat the question, which he did. He proceeded to ask, "would you like some Gonja?"  And of course, I knew better to respond in the positive to such a question that left me with more questions. Rather, I inquired further 'what is Gonja?'  Oh! with an excitement in his voice, and willingness to teach me everything Ugandan, he replied, "it's roasted plantains."  I could not have been more relieved with his response.  'Why yes!' I exclaimed, 'Iwould love to have some Gonja.'  So we pulled to the side of the road, where we were accosted by vendors running up to the vehicle, selling beans, fruits, chicken on a stick, roasted liver on a stick (kabobs) and even  gonja.  The Pastor carefully looked over each vendors selection of gonja, asked a few questions in Lugandan and we were then on our way through the hillside once again. The treat was so sweet and with a nice firm texture and roasted flavor. It was the first time I had gonja in Uganda and roasted at that!

You must know, that my faux pas were not limited to just gonja.  As my nephew and I were visiting the school of some secondary students, and was given the tour, we met the Head Master (HM), the Deputy, the Lead, the Chefs and the Chief Bottle Washer. I never knew a middle school, although a boarding school, had so many chiefs!  We spent quite a bit of time of learning about the school, the special program, to which we were invited and  we also inquired about the plan for the remainder of the schools year.

On our way out, I raised my hand, with palm open, and began to wave good bye.  And the seasoned, women Chef, proceeded to lift herself from the ground, and make her way to me. It took John, my nephew, to tell me that my good bye hand motion, meant something different in Uganda: It meant "Come Here".  Oh boy, was I ever in the deep water. This woman was older than me and I was beckoning her. Well, that is not acceptable in our country. So I quickly tried to remedy the situation,  by using those same hands that had gotten me into this situation, to also motion her to sit and stay.  I quickly learned that a head nod would a more acceptable way for me to stay out of the proverbial deep end.  But the process of learning about cultures, customs and norms is a lesson of a lifetime. And I am always open to learning. Now that's DA Art of Living!

~Simply Lady Dana
June 2014 (c)

From Uganda, East Africa