BEST. IDD. EVER.

*Originally written on 9/10*

It's one thing to have a cultural experience when you are planning on having it. It's something completely different when you get blindsided by getting thrown into a full-on, straight-out-of-Africa situation. All I was planning on doing today was having a normal day, maybe making some rice to have for lunch with the avocado I had bought earlier in the morning. Next thing I know, I'm in my Sunday Best trekking up the hill with two local girls to celebrate Idd with their family. All I know about Idd at this point is that it marks the end of Ramadan and it means that people are going to eat a lot -- didn't take much convincing to get me to join.

After a short walk, we got to a turn in the path that led between two houses. The two local girls, who basically befriended us by force, are Nadia and Hadia, and they live in one of the two houses with their mother, Sarah. The house just a few feet away belongs to their aunt. We had pretty much walked into the middle of their kitchen while the feast-in-the-works was spread out between the two cement porches facing each other. There was music coming out of one of the houses which can only be described as a Muslim male choir droning on in Arabic with incessant tribal drum accompaniment. Their larger-that-life, very outspoken mother warmly greeted us and told one of the girls to get a mat for us to sit on. Their aunt took time out from defeathering the dinner turkey to shake hands with us, politely offering the back of her wrist so that we didn't have to touch the hand still covered in feathers. Then, sodas were brought out for the guests. Courtney was made to pour mine into a glass for me, because "a man must never serve themselves!" Unfortunately, I don't think I will be getting that service back home...

Then, The craziness ensued. Courtney and Heather made the mistake of taking out their cameras, which is the universal sign in Uganda that it's time to take pictures of everyone/everything -- Nadia, Hadia, Nadia AND Hadia, the two of them with their little brothers and baby sister, all of them with Courtney, all of them with Heather, all of them with me, all of us, just the mzungus -- every possible combination. And of course, they need to run to show their mother each picture immediately after it was taken. So while Heather is busy having a nervous breakdown about her $400 camera being waved around by two pre-teen Ugandan girls, I'm entranced by their mother who is now gutting the turkey and rinsing the remaining blood from the carcass. Also, one of the little brothers has discovered the unusual amount of hair on my arms (by Ugandan standards at least) and is running his fingers through it. Courtney has become the caretaker of the baby sister, clothed in only a jean skirt that has spent more around her ankles than her hips and a string of beads around her waist which is intended to help baby girls grow hips apparently.

Then, Nadia and Hadia started with the synchronized dancing, which they started from on their knees and gradually worked their way to their feet. Their baby sister mimicked them in the foreground. The dance performance was broken up for a juice break, which ended in the sugar being spilled all over the porch. The kids tried to lick up whatever sugar couldn't be scooped back into the container, but it was two late. The baby sister was already covered from head to toe in sugar crystals, so she had a bath right there.

Soon, their uncle and his wife came, and just in time for the food. Lunch consisted of pilau (rice pilaf), Irish potatoes with tomato and onion, and slow roasted beef. I was served first, me being the man, and their aunt knelt down before us as she brought us our plates. The stray cats started to show up for scraps as we ate. The baby sister was covered in good again, so she had a second bath. Afterward, she proceeded to squat and relieve herself right in front of us, for which she was praised since she didn't do it in the house.

There was a point in the chaos where I took a second to look around, to feel the moment. To think, this is how this family lives, day in day out, year after year. It's hard to believe that I'm actually here to witness it, to be a part of it. I don't want a single moment like this to slip by, and I always want to remember, This Is Africa.

IDD ILFITRI