you are welcome

This weekend there was a circumcision ceremony in Mbale that almost all the USP students went to. I said no thank you and went four wheeling instead by the Nile. Joel and I left early Saturday to head to Jinja and go four wheeling through village trails and ripping through banana tree plantations and dirt compounds to the ridge of the Nile overlooking a dam. It was beautiful. About halfway down the first trail I just started giggling to myself behind my bandit mask thinking "what the heck…I'm on a four wheeler…in the jungle of Africa!" For the win.
After biking we headed up to his home he built in the village to be able to celebrate his jaja's (grandma's) 87th birthday with her today. So after church a few people came over and celebrated with us in wishing jaja a happy and treasured birthday with cake and Fanta. Birthday ritual here focuses on the cake- first the cutting of the cake and then the serving. The birthday person cuts the cake with the assistance of an honoured guest or family member much the same as a newly wed couple cuts the cake by both taking hold of the knife. So jaja asked her firstborn daughter and me to help her cut the cake. It was such a huge honour and just such a precious moment I could have cried…but it would have gotten the cake wet, so I tactfully refrained. Second is the serving of the cake, equally as important. The chosen assistant of the cutting of the cake is also expected to cut the cake into small pieces then put them on a plate for the birthday person to serve everyone else a piece of cake before taking one him/herself. So I diced through a hunk of the cake for jaja to serve everyone and then proceeded to crack open everyone's Fanta or Mirinda drinks. It was beautiful. Everyone was happy, everyone loved the cake, and one woman was so joyfully helpful in directing me through my tasks (seriously- so grateful she was there!). After the birthday party as I was leaving the family just so joyously thanked me for being there and for recognizing jaja's birthday with them all and I nearly cried tears of gratitude and satisfaction as I tried to express how grateful and honoured I was to have been there with them all for such a huge event- seeing as how the general life expectancy here is about 45 years old- this was an epic event.
Something to note from my time in the village: hospitality knows no fake smiles here.

Now this is not so typical of my own home- as the camp staff and friends of us kids just pop in unceremoniously on a regular basis- but in general: I feel that in America many people make quite a fuss about company coming over. The house is made sure to be extra clean, food is ready, and people generally know when to expect a visitor. Here that is sooooo not the case. Anytime you enter a home here, expected or otherwise- you are most welcome. While in America there are physical preparations made to make the guest feel welcome, here welcoming is a tone of a voice and a sincere openness of heart. There is a gentle excitement in every home that I have entered by the people who have greeted me that just ushers me into the house, shoes outside on the mat, hand clasped gently, cheek kissed occasionally, presence acknowledged in a kneel on the knees in quite a few cases, and a gentle murmuring of "yes, you are welcome" in every instance. Here people welcome you into their home by simply expressing "you are welcome" or "yes, you are welcome here". That's all. A few words. Standard. Yet the effect of such a simple, genuine gesture is flooring. Every time I enter and receive this salutation my heart melts a bit as I feel so genuinely welcome into the home. It's beautiful.