Stuff dumb Munus do…

So one day as I was leaving work, there were two girls standing next to a wheel barrel waiting for me to approach. I am used to this, as it happens all the time when I step out of my house. Kids, and sometimes adults, will see me coming and stop so they can wait for me or cross the street to walk past me and say, “Munu, how are you?” in the nasally voice they do to mimic munus. So, I greeted them and thought that was the end of it. But the older girl, prob about 11, said something in Acoli. All I heard was “help with water”, and as I am told quite often, “You give me water,” I assumed that was what they said. So I said back, “I don’t have.” And they looked at me in confusion. I told them I didn’t understand and began speaking in English in hopes that I could be of better assistance. And man do I regret that decision. I should have just stayed ignorant and played dumb so that I could walk away and avoid the embarrassing task that lay ahead of me.

Turns out the girl did ask if I could help them with water, only she wasn’t asking me for the water. She was asking me to help carry the wheel barrel containing 5 jerry cans of the water. I immediately thought to myself, “HELL NO! I can’t do that!” But I looked at the girls who couldn’t have been more than 11 and 9, and I said, “Well, I have to go up to hill. Where are you going?” thinking that I could somehow escape the task that way. The response, “We live on the hill, too.” BOO freaking BAM. These girls knew I lived there because they see me walk it every day. And because they see me every day, there was no way I could say no and get away with it, let alone saying no and have the 11 and 9 year old girls push that weight up that steep hill. I said yes while thinking to myself, How the eff am I gunna make it up that hill?

So, we began my walk of shame. The 11 year old girl held a string that was somehow supposed to guide the wheel barrel but did nothing of the sort, and I was trying to balance the moving weight every step. The 9 year old girl could not stop laughing, not at me, I don’t think, but just at the fact that a munu was actually fetching water. And so too were the townspeople amazed at the bright red, sweaty munu struggling to push the wheel barrel on the dirt road. Mind you, in addition to the heavy load, it is the dry season here. And that means, its bloody hell hot. So you can imagine I was EXTRA red. I had to stop a few times as my hands were going numb and my palms were cramping. And all along the way, I had Acoli people, adults and kids, stop in their tracks to watch the munu do physical labor. Literally stop walking, stop talking, turn and follow me with their eyes. It was embarrassing. I just kept thinking to myself, They are gunna see me fail to get the water up that hill, and that is going to be my identifier. And that darn string wasn’t doing any help to me and I literally almost tipped the wheel barrel four times. And of course the jerry cans had no lids. So every time it slipped, splish splash joey was taking a bath. My skirt was covered in water by the time I got home. But I digress.

So, the time came when we approached the hill. Duh, duh, DUHHHH. And so we started up the steep hill that takes my breath away every time I walk it, and I walk it at least four times a day. And of course, I’m wearing my toms with absolutely no traction whatsoever for the dirt/gravel/slippery hill. The laughter and amusement from the girls stopped at this point, because now it was serious. Twice I thought I let the wheel barrel go and I envisioned the girls hard labor just pouring down the hill, never to be recovered again. I can’t even count then number of times I had to stop, cause it was A LOT. And up that hill, there were four GROWN MEN who passed us and did nothing. They just stared and kept walking along their merry way. Those girls were 11 and 9 years old…how could you just keep walking? I was infuriated, and I think that may have given me some push for the remaining 25% of the hill. And finally, we reached the top. And it felt glorious. I almost said, ok you can push to your house over there by yourself, but decided that wasn’t very nice. So I pushed it the 30 or so feet to their compound. And again, I almost tipped it. Seriously this time, though. The patch of dirt in front of their compound was extra soft and sandy and manipulated the wheel barrel ever so swiftly. But me and the girls were able to catch it, and I decided I had done enough damage to their water supply and stopped there.

Once we reached the hill and they pointed to their house, I realized it was the mother of my workmate, Winnie. So I knew work was going to hear and that made me both happy and embarrassed at the same time. For one, they would know I’m strong and that I can do work, because they do not believe munus are capable of anything physical. But on the other hand, they would know how much I struggled and how I almost lost the water multiple times. But I didn’t care anymore, my palms were spasming, my biceps were aching and I couldn’t make a fist with my hands. My skirt was drenched and my legs were muddy. And I was red. And sweaty. I greeted the family and took off down the hill and finally made it to my house, were I pounded back water and just collapsed in exhaustion. Going pee was too hard. I had to give myself about an hour before I even thought about dinner, and by that time the spasms had stopped and I was able to grip a knife. And my biceps were sore for the next three days.

All of this only confirms my belief that the women here are a different breed. Those girls were SO small, I have no idea how the would have or how they ever do manage to get that water up the hill. But they just somehow do. I see women walking all the time up it with jerry cans on their head, making it look so easy. And that is an every day thing for them. And the men just walk past…irritating. So, whats the moral of the story? Girls rule and boys drool. And also, I hope those girls never find me on my way home again, lol. I don’t know if I can manage.

PEACE.