Whirled peas & Carnegie Hall

Language is a funny thing. Ugandans speak English, often very well. But we constantly are getting ourselves mired in traps.

For example,  I have the responsibility of making compelling Powerpoints for the trainings we are doing. I am always looking for clever things. Sometimes I just get bored and throw in something that seems right to m. As in, our “compelling writing” training. At the end of the session we say that the best thing (next to reading) to do to write well is to practice.

Ezra, making tea in the back of the Hiace

Brilliant, I thought. I'll have a thought balloon saying, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” Surely you know the answer: “Practice, practice, practice.” I knew it would be a reach, but I thought we could explain it.

Dr. Journalism (Bill) looked at the slide and said, “Theresa will explain this.” Out on a limb. So I said, “New York, concerts, blah, blah.” Blank faces. I tried again – violins, etc. They politely laughed but I could see the furrowed brows.

On the long way back from the recent safari, Kate ended up sitting in front with our friend and guide, Ezra. Ezra was tired and it was a long drive. Kate was trying valiantly to entertain him as we zoomed down the highway toward Kampala. They were talking about the signs on taxis and buses – things like “God Is Able” and “Love All, Trust None.” So Kate started telling Ezra about bumper stickers in the US. He didn’t get it, they don't have those here.

Kate explained. “There is this bumper sticker a lot of people have that has a picture of the world,” she said. “And it says on it, ‘whirled peas.’" Ezra looked confused. The four of us in the back of the impressive Toyota Hiace safari vehicle waited. Kate went on. “You see, it’s about world peace.” Ezra looks more confused. 

Kate: “You see, peas and peace … never mind. Really, it doesn’t mean anything. Lots of bumper stickers are just for politicians …” Fortunately, she didn’t talk about stickers like “Dog is my co-pilot.” Or others.

Yesterday, we went to the center of town and decided to get a "special hire" (like a US taxi, sort of) to take us and wait until we were finished with some business. It had stormed violently the night before and Bill started talking about weather to the driver, Bright. Bright then asked about what people do in the US when it snows to keep warm. Bill started describing a "jacket that is poofy and filled with feathers, like from a duck." I could see the quicksand sucking downward … but Bright said, yes, he had seen something like that on TV. Whew. 

I'd like to think that the next time we feel a culture clash coming on, we'll remember whirled peas, Carnegie Hall and down jackets. But most likely we'll blunder into it again.