What a delightful all-day event the Christmas party for our tailors turned out to be! Luckily Gihan knew better than I how to plan a Ugandan party. Little sandwiches, cookies, and punch would never have flown -- they wanted meat and potatoes. And rice. And orange Fanta.
Gihan, Prisca, and I did the shopping Friday and asked the women to help by bringing extra cooking pots and utensils we would need for outdoor cooking on charcoal burners --the way Ugandans cook every day. He suggested they come at 9 Saturday morning, which I thought was too early but he wanted to get the cooking underway by 10. Surprise --the first lady was knocking on my door at 7:30 a.m. Wake-up time. It was Anek Margret, one of the tailors who doesn't speak any English, so she probably had not understood the time. Several others arrived also by 8 a.m.
Since I was the only staff person there, and I certainly did not know how to get cooking started on outdoor burners that sit on the ground, I had the early arrivers help me with my last-minute idea for adding some color to the place. We decorated, using the 25 blouses and knit tops I had brought from the States as gifts. We tied them to branches on the tree out front -- this way the women could look them over during the day and decide which they'd hope to get when it was time to draw numbers and get to choose a blouse to take home.
The women arrived for the party all dressed up -- and ready for dancing. They had told Prisca ahead of time that was what they wanted so we arranged to have sound equipment on hand and a selection of popular Ugandan music. (We had not one Christmas carol, not one Rudolph or Frosty.)
No one loved the dancing more than I. I was on my feet shaking it with the woman except for resting breaks and food prepping. The real dancing queens were Aloyo Concy and Auma Lucy but we also had the older ladies up dancing, too. Even Prisca did a little dancing near the end of the day although she had been saying all day that she doesn't know how to dance. How therapeutic and uplifting music is -- especially when you move your body as well as listen.
The cooking was a shared deal, just as Gihan wanted. Some peeled, some chopped, some stirred, some sifted carefully through the rice to pick out the bad grains. Some helped with the babies. Somehow in between dancing and laughing, the cooking got done and we had a big meal of beef in gravy, a Ugandan favorite but in this case given a Sri Lankan spice treatment by Gihan, rice with veggies (again using Gihan's stir-fry approach), fried potatoes (yes, two starches but that's what they wanted), green beans, a green salad of tomatoes and cucumbers which was more for me than for them, a big mixed fruit salad of fresh pineapple, mangoes, papaya, bananas, and cookies for dessert. Oh, and freshly made passion fruit juice.
We had arranged for our friends from IOM (International Organization for Migration) to come and show the videos they had shot recently of the tailors. What with the video, the speeches, distribution of bonuses, the eating, and the dancing, we never got around to playing the team building games we'd planned but no one cared. They had team spirit flowing.
Really, only one thing was missing -- Halle's presence. The founder and leader of One Mango Tree was in Ohio, happily visiting family but regretting that she could not time-travel and also be at the party celebrating with the tailors. Even after the party was officially over and Gihan had headed back to Kampala, most of the tailors stayed. The last woman left about 6:30. I can tell you I was absolutely exhausted but happy to have been a party to this party.
No one loved the dancing more than I. I was on my feet shaking it with the woman except for resting breaks and food prepping. The real dancing queens were Aloyo Concy and Auma Lucy but we also had the older ladies up dancing, too. Even Prisca did a little dancing near the end of the day although she had been saying all day that she doesn't know how to dance. How therapeutic and uplifting music is -- especially when you move your body as well as listen.
The cooking was a shared deal, just as Gihan wanted. Some peeled, some chopped, some stirred, some sifted carefully through the rice to pick out the bad grains. Some helped with the babies. Somehow in between dancing and laughing, the cooking got done and we had a big meal of beef in gravy, a Ugandan favorite but in this case given a Sri Lankan spice treatment by Gihan, rice with veggies (again using Gihan's stir-fry approach), fried potatoes (yes, two starches but that's what they wanted), green beans, a green salad of tomatoes and cucumbers which was more for me than for them, a big mixed fruit salad of fresh pineapple, mangoes, papaya, bananas, and cookies for dessert. Oh, and freshly made passion fruit juice.
We had arranged for our friends from IOM (International Organization for Migration) to come and show the videos they had shot recently of the tailors. What with the video, the speeches, distribution of bonuses, the eating, and the dancing, we never got around to playing the team building games we'd planned but no one cared. They had team spirit flowing.
Really, only one thing was missing -- Halle's presence. The founder and leader of One Mango Tree was in Ohio, happily visiting family but regretting that she could not time-travel and also be at the party celebrating with the tailors. Even after the party was officially over and Gihan had headed back to Kampala, most of the tailors stayed. The last woman left about 6:30. I can tell you I was absolutely exhausted but happy to have been a party to this party.
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