Luzira Nights

First off, I live in Luzira, a district in Kampala. People refer to it as a suburb, but I do not think I agree. It is more on the outskirts of the city, but not a suburb in the sense of a suburb in America.

Last night on our way to a discotheque, we stopped at jaja's (meaning grandma). There had been lugandan rap music blaring from this party for the last hour. I did not know what to expect as we walked towards jaja's, but honestly, I had no time to develop expectations. We turned a corner and myself and Alexander of APP were rushed by the party goers.

They grabbed my hands and pulled me to the middle of the dance floor. I was greeted with hugs and handshakes that linger much longer than American handshakes and hugs. I felt comfortable instantly even though I was the only white person or "muzungu" in sight and everyone was staring at me.

The rest of the night we danced. Among children, teenagers, parents, and grandparents. The children grabbed my hands and the young men stared. Only one man came to dance with me, which led to an eruption of applause and laughter form the crowd.

There was no alcohol or food. The dance floor was dirt. We were dancing by the light of the stars and a few small lights from inside the small shanties they call homes. There were no decorations or preparations. It was just a simple party where everyone was smiling, laughing, and dancing their hearts out.

And Jonathan even said I was a good dancer...