Small observations in Namitembo

I’m fascinated by the ingenuity of musicians around here. A neat percussion instrument was made with three bicycle sprockets wired together with a string of bottle caps. In church today, I saw an amplifier for an electronic keyboard made of a round car speaker perched on top of a large oval drum. My favorite was the guitar made of an empty gallon tin with real string “strings.” The frets were made of short segments of bicycle spokes pounded into the wooden frame. It had a good sound!

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The throb of rock music made me jump this Sunday afternoon. The youth center, a series of former offices, which Fr. Owen converted into a large hall, is painted with bright murals and wired for loud sound. It attracts about a hundred teens on three afternoons a week. In between the music selections, a voice can be heard, part DJ, part dispenser of advice. As we returned from a walk in the dusk small groups tore themselves away and hurried up the road to make it home before dark. The little kids who live nearby lingered outside turning cartwheels and somersaults to the beat of the music.

The youth center provides an alternative to an enterprise up the road, which offers western films played on a small screen at peak volume. For 30 kwatcha or so you can squeeze into a thatch roofed lean-to and watch. Walking by, we can hear the dialogue and tell by the bursts of gunfire that the movies are of the sort of western export that has given us a reputation we’d rather not have. One day a boy about ten ran after us yelling expletives in heavily accented English. When we realized what he was saying and turned around, he sprinted away.

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Signs along the way:

Mickey Mouse Boys School

Concerned Youth Organization

The Lord is Wonderful Telephone Bureau

Razz-ma-Tazz Exclusive

Hip Hop Bottle Store

In God We Trust Hair Salon

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The turkey came on a leash. It sat, seemingly patient with its white feathers fluffed and the red of its wattle making a splash of color in the morning gray. Its owner wanted 2000 kwatcha ($14.00), too high a price for the potential buyer. They sat around most of the day, bird and man. But the seller would not negotiate, even for the 17,000 kwatcha that might have been offered. So as dark descended, they went home again. A reprieve for the gobbler.