The dictionary defines “déjà vu” as “the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time,” and although September 5th counts as my second time to arrive in the UK this year, two heavy suitcases (their combined weight equalling mine) in tow, it is my first time to arrive with the present agenda: en route to Africa.
Yes, it feels like I never left the land of the Union Jack, with a pub ‘round every corner and a roast for dinner each Sunday, but as I readjust to saying “rubbish bin” instead of “trash can” and continue to insist that no, I do not take milk in my tea, I am aware that these minor adjustments are the least of what is to come in two weeks time.
The most elementary adjustment that must be made, an adjustment that began when I arrived at the Oasis Gap Year Training on the 9th of September, is how I speak of the country in which I will be spending the next five and a half months. While Americans pronounce Uganda with an “ah,” the British, and I feel consequently the Ugandans, since Uganda is part of the British Commonwealth, pronounce the “a” in Uganda as the “a” in “can.” I tried to reason with them, bringing up other countries such as Rwanda that are pronounced with a similar “ah” sound, and it turned out that to the British it is pronounced with a similar sound indeed, pronouncing Rwanda, too, with an “a” as in “can.” Thus they won on the language front, which they most often do, since it is their language, and I have started to pronounce the country as Uganda as in “can,” or “tan,” “man” or “Stan” for that matter, though it is seeming to come out a blend of the American and English interpretation. Compromise at its best, I suppose.
Training lasted through the 13th of September, ending in a Commissioning Service, and although we were able to speak to a few volunteers who had just returned from our placement in Namaliri, Uganda, we didn’t learn much more of what we would be doing than we knew before. It’s the African way, I suppose, to just go with the flow. Far different from the fast-paced movement of the American culture, Africans start things when they feel led, declare holidays as the moon guides them, and ask for help when they realize there is no other option (if they ask at all). So we will be prepared to help as the need arises, whether it be teaching in schools, organizing field days, losing at a game of soccer or even speaking in church (since they often ask visitors to preach on a moment’s notice).
I am looking forward to each of the things we might find ourselves doing, but what I am most excited about is adopting the African way—what has become known as African time—as my own. So, whether I am singing silly songs at a primary school with a room full of children, sitting with an old woman talking about generations past as I learn a traditional Ugandan craft, whether I am painting an African sunset or having a meal with new friends, may I not be focused on what I should be doing instead or where I must be next, as is the American way, but what I am doing at that moment—cherishing the things that I will be encountering for the very first time.
