One of the main distinctions between Ugandans and Americans as sexual beings is the level of discussion there is on the subject. Until studying abroad in Uganda, my experiences with sex in Africa had been limited to teaching a class on HIV/AIDS to middle school students in Sierra Leone. While discussing condom use with them, they all told me that they didn’t like using condoms because it “felt better without them” – sound familiar, ladies?
I was in Uganda as a student, a daughter and a sister. I was studying there, but living with a family and I was completely immersed in the culture. This meant a strange combination of Ugandan and American conceptions of everything from academics, nursing homes and, of course, sex. My Ugandan sister and I never discussed sex. The closest we ever came was when I showed her my photo album from home and she came across a photo of me sitting in my ex’s lap, with his arms around me. She saw it, giggled, closed the book and repeated the cycle for the next 20 minutes. She is 16. Conversely, my 17-year-old American sister and I discuss all aspects of our sex lives, unfortunately in way too much detail.
I don’t think this difference is a question of being more open to the conversation; it has more to do with cultural conceptions of appropriateness. The way Ugandans approach dating is on a whole different level from Americans. In Uganda, introducing someone to your parents means you want to marry them. If this held true in America, I would be married to my preschool boyfriend. In fact, if Ugandans want to get engaged, they tell their auntie about their significant other. She in turn tells the parents, which starts the whole engagement process. But that’s a story for another time.
The Ugandan dating scene is full of nuances. In one of the local languages, Luganda, the word for love, like and want is the same: oku-jagala. In my opinion, this can lead to a lot of mixed messages, because, at least in the U.S., I know the vast difference between someone wanting me and loving me. I would walk down the street in Kampala, the capital, and hear men shout, “njagala mzungu,” which means “hey white girl, I like/love/want you.” Now, I could find these men standing on the corner day after day, shouting the same thing, so maybe it’s the Uganda equivalent of a catcall. News for men (or ladies): It doesn’t work any better in a foreign language.
One of my favorite parts of being abroad was the daily love letters from Ugandan men. I am convinced they write them in bulk and store them to give to all of the women they meet – or maybe it’s just for the American women they meet. Anyway, my all-time favorite letter that I received was from a hairdresser near where I lived. I was walking home and a man comes running after me, holding a letter. He hands it to me, saying it is from his “brother.” The note read: “Hi ___ (no name because he doesn’t know me), I want to talk to you about a special friendship or potential relationship. What are your thoughts on the matter? Are you single? If you are amenable to this please call me so we can work out the details. Here is my number, Michael.” The letter was wrong on so many levels, including the fact that Michael, whoever he is, does not even know my name! I’ll be the first to admit that love letters can be cute, but I usually like getting them from the guy I’m dating, not some random person.
When it comes down to it though, Uganda and America really aren’t that different. We’re all just trying to find someone to share the love, whether that’s emotional, physical or both. The real difference is the way we get there.
Ally Pregulman is a junior majoring in public health. She spent last
semester studying abroad in Uganda.
