An "American" Visitor

One of the things I miss about America is our unwillingness to openly discuss religion and politics.  These topics are so emotionally charged, you never know whom you may offend, so you might as well say nothing at all.  At least that’s how I thought things were in America.  Ironically, a recent experience in Uganda challenged what I thought I knew about America, religion and gender.

About a month ago, on a particularly scorching Sunday afternoon, my landlord came to my door.  He was very excited to announce that an American visited their church that day and was hoping he could introduce us.  Apparently some missionaries had been visiting Busolwe, and one managed to make the journey to Butaleja.  Most people here assume that all Americans either know each other or have interest in making this acquaintance.  Despite the fact that Nathan and I were about to enjoy a wonderful lunch of hummus and chapatti chips, I couldn’t disappoint my landlord.  I agreed, but asked for time to “get ready.”  Even though it was approaching 3 pm, I still needed to change out of my pajamas, jump into a clean skirt, throw on a bra, wash my face and fix my hair to look somewhat presentable.

Nathan and I settled into the plastic chairs set on the veranda for our meeting and waited.  Within minutes, my landlord, a local reverend and the American enter the compound.  Nathan had already met the American earlier that week in Busolwe, so the American immediately says, “It’s Nate right?” and they shook hands.  I shook hands with him as he took his seat on my right, but he never asked for my name.  As a matter of fact, he never introduced himself, apart from the fact that he was from Dallas, Texas, he never asked us how we were doing or even what we were doing here.  Maybe I’ve been living in Uganda for too long, where greeting is essential for any interaction, but I was offended right off the bat.  If only I knew what was to come.

The only thing he did ask about ourselves, “So what religion do ya’ll believe in?”  Even in America, I refuse to answer this question.  It is no one’s business.  My go-to response in Uganda is to say, “Americans don’t like to talk about religion.”  Welp, this American threw that stereotype right out the window.  I simply stared right back at him, so shocked I couldn’t react, but Nathan thankfully managed a response, “I was raised Catholic.” 

“Oh, like the Mary, Joseph, Mary, Jesus thing?” as he mockingly crossed himself.  Not only did he break the cardinal American rule of respecting one’s privacy, he openly mocked a stranger’s religion.  Neither Nathan nor I knew what to say, but I don’t think he was looking for a response.  He just kept talking.

From there, he tumbled onto the subject of Islam.  I have no idea how he broached the subject, but he declared, “Islamists are closing in on Dallas.  They’re everywhere!  All those terrorists.”

I couldn’t help but say, “You know, not all of them are terrorists.” 

“Honey, have you ever heard of 9/11?” 

“Yes, but those were extremists.  I stayed in Senegal for a while, a predominately Muslim country, but they have a very peaceful history.”

“Senegal?  Where is that?”

Oh geez.  Ignorance and religious intolerance.  Should I really be surprised?  “West Africa.”

“Well, no, honey.  I’m talking about those extremists in Iran and Iraq!”

“Yeah, but there are extreme Christians too.”  I’m not sure he was even listening to me anymore because he instantly changed the subject.  In that short exchange, he realized that he was never going to get through to me.  I have a poisoned mind, so he focused the rest of his spiel for Nathan.  Poor Nathan- he wanted to be on his best behavior because he was worried about offending my landlord.

Leaving Islam behind, the American launched into the little known story of Adam and Eve.  And he wasn’t just telling us.  He was Baptist style preaching at us!  With all his passion, he jumped up from his chair and was bouncing around the veranda emphasizing one point or another.  I considered telling him that he was talking way too fast- no one besides Nathan or I could understand a word he said!  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Patricia pretend to wash a saucepan as she giggled at his garbled speech and flare for drama.  I decided against it.  I didn’t want to draw out this interaction any longer than it needed to be.  Unbeknownst to the American, the last time I had been preached the story of Adam and Eve, I was struggling to understand the French of my Muslim host parents in Senegal.  Amazing that the religion he was bashing only moments before has the same roots as his.

When the American finally reached the part about the creation of Eve, things started to go even further downhill very quickly.  “So God here, he made this perfect 36” 24” 36”.”  Yes, he means to say Eve, woman or female.  Any of those nouns would have been appropriate.  Instead, we’re only worth our measurements, according to this man of God.  He continued to say that although Adam was the perfect creation, God made him a companion.  Instantly, I cut in with my usual witty comment that never fails, “Maybe Eve is the perfect creation.  He may have realized that he made mistakes when he made Adam, so he made perfection when he made women.”  He laughed, told me I was entertaining, but get real, it doesn’t say that in the Bible.  “Maybe it would have if it wasn’t written by a man.”  He brushed me off and continued.

I have a big mouth.  It’s not surprising that I cut him off again, around the time he’s preaching about the order of all things: God, Jesus, man, woman.  “How do you even convert women to this religion?”  I honestly don’t think he answered the question.  He just reminded me that women start most cults.  No wonder.  I wouldn’t want any part of religion that told me to serve men.

In the end, I learned a few things about Christianity- or his version of Christianity- that day from our fellow American:

1.     A marriage can only be successful if a woman is submissive to her husband.

2.     Women were created to serve men and be their helpers.

3.     Women are not allowed to teach or preach, unless it is to younger women.

4.     Women are the leaders in creating cults.

After about an hour, he finally tired himself out.  I doubt he sensed that both Nathan and I were seething just beneath the surface.  We said our good-byes, but before my landlord escorted them out, he said, “Oh I’m so sorry if he offended you!”  Regardless of what the American said, I would never blame my landlord.  I was comforted though that at least my landlord had sensed at least our discomfort, if not our anger.  “No, no, it’s ok.  He’s American.  He should know better.  Americans don’t talk about religion with strangers.  Don’t worry about it.”

Uganda doesn’t have the same idea of privacy as we do.  A common exchange will follow the following questions: what’s your name, where are you from, what do you do, what’s your religion.  I’ve been in Uganda for a year and a half and had many in depth conversations about religion.  It took me until that day that I have never had anyone actually try to convert me to anything.  Some people joked about it, but no one ever seriously evangelized to me.  In Uganda, Christians, Catholics, Born Agains and Muslims all live together without trying to change one another.  On the P7 social studies test, they have religious questions.  For every number, there is a Christian question and an Islamic question.  Most schools actually prefer to teach both religions because it gives their P7 studies a better edge on the exam because they can pick and choose which questions they want to answer.

Religion intolerance isn’t a big issue in Uganda.  And although America was founded on the tolerance of religion, maybe we refuse to talk about it because we know that many people won’t let us just be us.  But that’s what tolerance is all about: letting other people just do their thing, as long as they aren’t hurting anyone.

Growing up in California, I was sheltered from sexist views, like the ones this Dallas man expressed.  I couldn’t have a more feminist mother!  Growing up, I probably thought that girls could do more than boys, not the other way around.  I spend so much time in Uganda fighting for gender inequality, forgetting that there are places in America that still need that message.