EATING LIKE AN ANTHROPOLOGIST

One of my favorite parts of the GSSAP experience so far has been having the opportunity to learn about the daily lives of Northern Ugandans. Getting the chance to enter a person’s home and share food with them has taught me an incredible amount about the lives and struggles of Ugandans in rural areas. I have been afforded the opportunity to visit homes and communities because of my internship with Julia, one of the doctoral students with the program. I have been helping Julia with her research on the healthcare systems in Uganda, and the trips out to the villages have been full of adventure. Especially when it comes to mealtimes. My first real experience with traditional food out in the field was in Lalogi village. I was with Julia’s team at a health center interviewing patients and it was time for a lunch break. So I went down the street into the village with two of the translators, Morris and Jennifer, to pick up some roasted maize for the group. The three of us waited for the corn to be ready and then munched on a piece as we walked back towards the health center. Jennifer left to take the corn back to the rest of the group and Morris asked me if I was still hungry. I said I was so he took me across the street to a small building where a group of women were sitting and chatting outside. He spoke to them for a moment in Luo and then said to me that there was some fish inside that we could eat. Jennifer walked up and joined us inside the dark building and bowls of food were bought out shortly. While I was not sure exactly what I would be eating, I was not expecting an entire fish to be sitting in a bowl of soup in front of me. Jennifer and Morris laughed at my expression and asked if I had eaten with my hands before. While I was thinking, “Oh no, this is going to get messy”, I replied that I had eaten with my hands before but it was my first experience with an entire fish. Morris explained that there was posho (a bread made of ground corn that closely resembles grits) and cassava to scoop up the soup with and that I should start by inserting a couple fingers into the gut of the fish and tearing it in half. I hesitantly started to rip and Morris laughed again (he was already half done with his fish) and told me that I needed to get in there. I was picking out bones, doing my best to avoid the head, and getting a little bit of meat when Jennifer and Morris started laughing hysterically. I looked up to see what was going on and found that they were both looking right at me. I immediately asked what I had done that was so amusing and in between fits of laughter Jennifer managed to say that I ate like a child. Morris started laughing even harder as I looked down at my hands, both of which were covered in bits of food. Once they had calmed down a bit Jennifer explained that only babies who were two or three years old ate like I did. Morris explained that I ate like a rat. I stared laughing at that point and replied that, because I had never learned to eat this kind of traditional food, in this situation I may as well be a child. I was a bit embarrassed, but I felt much better when Morris told me that I would make a great anthropologist because I was willing to try anything. Despite the compliment, it’s safe to say that the next day at lunchtime I ate the bean stew and millet bread with only one hand.