The 2013 African Awards

Sipping tea in freezing Illinois, it seems impossible that a week ago I was in Africa. It is hard to believe that the reality of both places exist simultaneously and that in the matter of 24 hours (24 very,very long hours) you can be in the other reality.

I’m trying to process the experience of the last few months and have something meaningful to say. Those thoughts aren’t quite collected, so until then, here is something much less shallow, but nonetheless entertaining. When I was a Resident Director, we gave out ridiculous and arbitrary awards at the Christmas Party each year, and since I enjoyed that power, I have decided to give out awards to Africa. I believe that one day this will be a highly coveted award, and that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler will host the ceremony. Until then, we will just use this smaller venue to announce the winners. In no particular order, I give you the 2013 African Awards....

Best Store: The Quicky Picky (Wobelinzi, Uganda) 

Least Appealing Establishment: Tied: The Tick Hotel and the KKK Restaurant (Uganda) 

Most Honest Nametag: No Sex Before Marriage (sported by a young man at church in Uganda) 

Boldest Public Health Tent: “Men Get Circumcised Today” (seen on the side of the road in Kampala) 

Best Personal Ad: Seeking a white, born-again, sugar mummy, age 30-35. (in the Kampala newspaper) 

Best River: The Nile 

Best Mode of Operation: The motorcycle (boda) 

Best quote: (under age 12 category) 

Right after Isaac (age 9) threw some trash on the side of the road.... 

"Isaac - in America, we call that littering." 

"Well, in Africa, we call it freedom." - Isaac 

Best quote: (male over age 12 category) 

Keith- “Emmanuel, don’t we need to put some more chorine in that well?” 

Emmanuel- “Keith, that water won't kill an African. It might kill you, but it won’t kill an African!” 

Best quote: (female over age 12 category)
"Nothing like some rebels to ruin a good road trip!" - Esther, on wanting to drive to South Africa with her friends

Biggest Hearthrob: Pee-Wee the driver (Liberia)

Although highly contested, I have to give it to Pee-Wee, who not only scored a soccer goal for me at a crazy game, but also attempted to save me from the ocean (although I was not in danger, he is petrified of the water and thus very brave). In his last moments with me, he told me he would learn to swim by the time I came back. A man who will face his fears, now that will win some points. 

That concludes the awards for this year. 

Rooster Rage

I'm getting ready to go to africa for the fall, and one of the things I'm most looking forward to (besides the profound life lessons, of course) is the randomness of life in a third-world country. It's just not quite the same as your average day in america. 

Thinking about this trip has reminded me of my time on the island of Tobago many moons ago. My friend Gretchen and I spent the summer there during college, helping with children's programs at a local church. It was a tough job, but someone had to suffer for Jesus in the islands. 

We had a lot of spare time, because the island runs on Tobago Time, which means anything planned is very, very relative. For some reason, we made up a lot of songs in our downtime. During VBS, we taught 100+ children "We Will Rock You" rewritten into a rowdy worship song. It was a huge hit, let me tell you. 

Among the highlights of the summer: having a friend named Amigo, homemade ice cream, pristine beaches everywhere, and wonderful, hilarious, loving people.  

Among the lowlights: constant heckling and cat calls by the local riff-raff, mushy root vegetables at every meal, and lastly, our arch-nemisis: the rooster. 

Having grown up on a farm, I did not think these lovely little animals would be a problem. Well, I couldn't have been more mistaken. Every nice farm story about the rooster crowing at sunrise is wrong. These boys crowed at sunrise. and at midnight. and at one am, two am, etc....all. night. long. 

Needless to say, this did not sit well with us, and Gretchen and I did what any normal, sleep-deprived people would do in this scenario: we created another song to express our distress and help us cope with our anger. 

I give you (not previously released).....

                                        "Rooster Rage" 

I waddle up to that stupid thing 

and say "Hey You- Mr. Ding-a-ling

If you don't stop that stupid cocking 

I'll turn you into my Christmas stocking." 

stuffed, stuffed, stuffed little rooster.    

chorus: (sung to the tune of "Bad Boys") 

"rooster rage, rooster rage 

whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do 

when they cock-a-doodle do?" 

repeat chorus until the angst has drained from your body and you can rest again. 

Feel free to borrow it if you need. Shockingly, we have not copyrighted it just yet. 

Dance With Me Dorothy

This little lady turned 80 last spring, and decided she wanted a party by getting as many of her family together as she possibly could. So we all piled into our cars, planes, and a huge van called "the white dove" and spent the weekend at a school turned hotel, which was as strange as it sounds. 

To say that we laugh a lot when we get together is an understatement. I attribute much of this to this generation, dorothy's kids and spouses (who call themselves the outlaws instead of the in-laws). They are often much more the instigators than their children. 

During most of our family events, we play some sort of stupid game. There is much pressure to be a good sport, and everyone knows they will get mocked if they don't participate. So, everyone usually just goes along with it. (Let's just say blindfolded leap frog is harder than it sounds!)

This time, I accomplished one of my long-time goals: playing Human Battleship. Each team obediently formed "boats" of 2-5 people, and sat still as water balloons were launched over the wall at their heads. 

 

Not surprisingly, their patience wore thin and anarchy soon broke out and an all-out assault began. I'll still call it a success, although I want to try it some time with ketchup or red jello. Take it up a notch, you know? 

But moving on, we soon began our next activity of throwing cheese puffs....

....onto humans dressed as...well I am not sure, exactly. But I told you these people were good sports. 

And now for the big finish....dorothy said she wanted a show, so a show she got. The grand-men dolled up their bellies and performed a whistling song. Absurd? yes. Entertaining? Absolutely. 

After a small kick-line by the granddaughters, we busted out this song by the creepy kids' group, The Wiggles. A few of my cousins are wizards at finding just the right tune for the occasion. 

And Dorothy did dance with us, because she is the queen of crazy. Although she did have a bit of trouble walking up the stairs because she said she was laughing too hard. 

 

If I'm doing anything close to this when I turn 80, it will be a good life. We love you gram! 

Keepin' It Rural

It has been a full month of crazy fun here "somewhere in the middle," as my california friends call it. People always wonder what we do in the country to amuse ourselves, and the simple answer is we make our own entertainment. Much of that entertainment is found in making fun of each other and making up parties for no reason.

We like to think that we were some of the original founders of the farm to table movement. Case in point; here are some pictures from a classy event we have dubbed "The Corn Feed." A few years ago we started an annual party which is essentially a corn eating contest. 

Most of the contestants quit after a few ears, and the competitive boys usually duke it out for the victory. Here are this year's top three finishers....I'm sorry to say they consumed almost 30 ears of corn between the three of them. It was obscene. They were literally running into the field to get more corn. 

The other great thing about life at home is getting to hang out with my family. They are genuinely some of my favorite humans, and I'm not making that up to try and get more of the inheritance. I know that so many people don't have the privilege of actually wanting to spend time with their kin. 

"Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons." - Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts