“I said go to a game show, not be on a game show”

My thoughts mirrored those of that famous comedian after I became the Kansanga Hills Primary School PE coach. Don’t ask me how it happened, because I’m still trying to figure it out. One moment I show up asking if I can volunteer to tutor students who are struggling or maybe to kick a soccer ball around with them or something, the next I’m blowing a pink whistle to get the attention of like at least 60 students around the age of 10. Big Mis-take! Along the way, I think I got my first lesson on what is called indirect communication. It was something that was brought up in culture training, but this time it was a first-hand experience.

Let me explain. Generally in the west, we say what we mean (at least this is true for men, women (from what I hear about marriage) tend to follow the African style). Here, in an attempt to save face or to be polite, folks tend to communicate implicitly, without actually coming out and saying exactly what they mean. If you’re familiar with this system, you learn to read between the lines and everything is fine. If you’re not, mass confusion. Such was the case after my first meeting with the superintendent of the school. After replaying our conversation in my mind, the lights started flickering on again. Here’s what I think happened. I asked if they could use a volunteer for a few hours a week. He interpreted it as me saying indirectly “I’m looking for a job.” He responded by asking me why I was interested in working with kids at a school when I’m an engineer – indirectly saying that he wasn’t going to hire me. This out-of-phase conversation continued for several minutes until I began to catch on, and by that time the damage had already been done. What I did managed to salvage was that I was merely looking to volunteer (not be a fulltime teacher), and though he seemed a bit reluctant, I walked out pretty sure he had invited me back the next day to casually play with the kids.

Upon my return, I was introduced to the rest of the staff as the new PE teacher! Shock, fear, and utter confusion flooded my mind as I tried to remain calm. Soon though, I was out on a field freshly ladened with cow pie, not a soccer ball to be seen. After some rigorous calisthenics, I managed to occupy them for about an hour and a half with as many non-ball games as I could remember from grade school PE (which was sadly too few). When I go back next week, I hope to bring a plan, some balls, and maybe some reinforcements.

So, what else happened this week? At work, I felt like I was a detective trying to solve a mystery. My goal is go collect pertinent information from other individuals and organizations who have experience with the region where I’ll be going for the design project. It’s kind of becoming a maze of one person telling me to contact another who in turn refers me to someone else. Along the way, it’s been a good learning experience, and I’ve learned how important relationships are here. I have to suppress my results-driven nature and focus on people, before I can expect anything from them. Phone conversations have been amusing, to say the least.

Yeah, and I played some “football” (soccer for Americans) with what was probably just an average group of guys – felt like a complete fool. I hate being bad, and it’s one thing to be the worst on the team, but it really stinks when no better than some dude’s nine-year-old son who’s just tagging along. Maybe I can practice with my PE class and get better. Better yet, I need to initiate a game of Ultimate Frisbee!

A couple nights ago, some of us watched the semi-final game of the Africa Cup between Cameroon and Ghana. There were at least 20 or so people congregated around a 15 inch TV that had been set up outside a local street-side store. As little as I cared about watching the game, it was actually a lot of fun and it made me feel like I was a part of the culture – just hangin’ out on the street with the locals.

Oh yeah, and I went to the big Kampala open market which is called Owino to buy some trousers. I was humored by the one of the salesmen who proceeded to blatantly adjust his measuring tape such that every pair that I asked about were my exact size. "32...Perfect!" "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?" I wanted to ask. I had fun with it, though. One thing that I'm learning is that there's no shame or guilt about ripping people off here. If you can get away with it, it must be you're lucky day.