Abwali and Amooti

“There is a story in the Bible where men got together to build a tower so they could reach the heavens,” said Joseph. “They wanted to reach God and be with him. God saw this and needed to stop their efforts. Therefore he made all of the men speak different languages so they couldn’t communicate and would no longer be able to finish their tower. I think that tower was built here, in Uganda.”

Joseph, the manager here at Miryante Orphans Home, was referring to the fact that here in Uganda, as I have previously mentioned, there are over 55 languages. People in one town may not understand a word said by others in a neighbouring town. His idea that the Tower of Babel was built here may well be an accurate assumption. This conversation took place on our first day in Miryante and Jospeh was telling us for the first time about the local language, Ortorro, which is spoken here in this region. Fast forward a week or so and Claire and I have had a couple of lessons in Ortorro, and are capable of greeting people with ease. In fact, whenever we go to the surrounding villages for supplies – vegetables and soda – and test out our new language, we always get a delayed double take, followed by laughter as the locals are surprised that we know their language. Even if we do only know a small amount it seems to go down rather well.

This region of Uganda also has another interesting tradition. The people here have pet names for each other. Essentially, everyone has a normal name, however, at some point in their life they are handed a pet name by someone older, usually a parent or grandparent. These pet names, come from a selection of about 12. On our second day in Miryante Joseph was brimming with joy as he approached our house in the morning. He had come to give us our pet names, and was clearly pleased at the chance to ingratiate us ever so slightly into the local community. Clare was handed the name Abwali, and I was given the name Amooti.

Now, whenever we go into the villages, armed with our pet names, and the ability to ask others for theirs – “Empakko Yawe?” – we can have plenty of fun. As mentioned above, when the locals hear us greet them in Ortorro there’s usually a mini commotion as the people we have greeted and others around laugh in surprise at our ability to speak to them. If we then follow it up by asking them their pet name, before revealing the fact that we too have pet names for ourselves, they are almost always over the moon. It’s great fun, and makes popping into town worth it for these mini interactions alone, as well as the freshly fried chapattis.