un-United Nations

One of the things I have most come to cherish, living here in Uganda, is my diverse group of friends.For the first six months I was here, I barely made any friends. This is highly unusual for me as I tend to be fairly outgoing but I had somehow convinced myself that everyone here fell into one of two categories: Married ex-pats who spent their free time in doubles matches on the squash court; or, Twenty-something year old Peace Corps volunteers who I wanted to bathe prior to befriending. The married couples invited me over for lawn tennis, the Peace Corps volunteers passed me a joint and tried to convince me that staying up until 4am at the bar every night was a fantastic idea.Not feeling any desire to relive my early twenties, nor feeling any particular fondness for lawn tennis, I largely stuck to the two or three Ugandan friends I had made here...which was fine...but I did sometimes find myself desperately missing other Westerners with whom I could share stories and commiserate.That changed about three months ago upon joining the country club.Yes, I can barely believe that I joined a country club myself but it is not really a country club in the traditional "white men in smoking jackets need only apply" sense, but it is a place where most of the ex-pats gather on the weekends because it has the best pool and the best gym in town.It is here that I met my current group of friends and discovered that there are people living in Uganda who, like me, are in their late-twenties to mid-thirties age range, do not feel that getting obliterated at the bar every night is a "good time," and have other interests besides couples lawn tennis and squash matches.It has been like someone turned on a light in my dark world...Plus, I like the diversity of my friends; we are a few Americans, a half dozen French, about four Israelis, an Aussie, a Lebanese, an Egyptian, and two Italians.The diversity of this mix is endlessly amusing as I have come to discover that one of our favorite pastimes is discussing the stereotypes of each of our cultures and fiercely debating who, at the end of the day, might be correct.Granted, most Americans, myself included, have a hard time at first with this. We are not used to being so blunt about stereotypes and, although we might have them, it is considered totally in bad form to voice them aloud. Especially these days...as Americans are celebrating their new identities as "race-blind" people.Other cultures, it seems, don't have nearly the same amount of hangups."Oh, Guillome hates Jews this week, just so you know," my friend Janice (an American) told me in the car on Sunday as we were heading to the beach to meet up with our other friends."Well, that's unfortunate given that his two best friends are Israelis," I said, "How is he coping with that and isn't that a little bit of an unpopular opinion in this day and age?""He doesn't consider Gavin and Alma to be Jews," she said.I gasped and she held up her hand."I know, I know...but he insists they are Israelis and that's different," she clarified."J, have you explained to him that it is sort of an, um, pre-requisite that one must be Jewish to be Israeli?" I asked, stunned."He only hates Jews this week because he found out that I saw my ex-boyfriend, and that he is Jewish, when I was in the U.S. and that upset him. So he hates Jews for now.""Um, have you mentioned to him that your father is Jewish?" I queried.She waved her hand, "Yes but he feels the way he feels right now...and you know how he is...French and all...so fucking dramatic."Later that evening, at dinner at Guillome's place, I walked up to Gavin and said, "Have you heard that you're not Jewish now?""Yeah, yeah...I have heard...whatever. Guillome is just being French...they are not real men...they can't just be angry at one individual but have to take on an entire race of people....I am not offended, I think they're all secretly gay anyway," he whispered."Oh, speaking of which, how is your boyfriend?" he asked.I sighed, "Gavin, you know Scott is not gay!""Of course he's not, he's in the military! But he is from that gay state, right? He must have been happy to get out of there and over to Iraq, there are no fags in the Middle East, that's for sure.""Gavin, Iowa is NOT a gay state." I told him.(He has just never been able to get past the fact that Iowa sanctioned same-sex marriages, for him...it will always be a 'gay state')."And what is this BS with there being no gays in the Middle East? Who are you now, Ahmedinijad or something? You gonna deny the Holocaust next?" I followed up with.Mind you, I would never, ever, in a million years say this to an Israeli back home....I would be too timid...but here, for some odd reason, it is "no holds barred."He laughed, "Look Patti, I can't stand that guy but it is a statistically proven fact that there are almost no gays in the Middle East!"At this point, Shadiq, our Lebanese friend, jumped in. "THAT is not true, Gavin, stop saying shit like that."(Mind you, although he has never come out with it overtly, we're all pretty sure Shadiq is gay...he's almost too beautiful to be male, he is the most divine cook ever, he comes with me for my bi-monthly manicures and pedicures, and he lives with Ahmed, the Egyptian, in the same tiny flat....and they share the same tiny bed...I am willing to suspend belief about most things but this one is fairly obvious).Gavin could not be put off of his opinion. "Hey, you ask Scott the next time you talk to him...I bet there are almost no gays in Iraq...ask him, he'll tell you!"Now Alma, Gavin's wife, who is normally very quiet, decided to intervene. "Gavin, my brother is gay, you know that. AND he is Israeli AND he is one of your best friends! Stop talking about things you know nothing on!"Gavin, never to be outdone, declared, "Yeah, but he was Australian before he was Israeli! We know what can happen 'down under'."I laughed, thinking of my own stereotype of Aussies as "manly men.""Look, Gavin, I will ask Scott but I have plenty of other friends who served over there tell me about Iraqi 'man-boy love night' and I am pretty certain, in addition to probably being exploitative to young men, most of those acts were likely homosexual in nature."He just didn't buy it.A few minutes later, there was a ruckus in the kitchen.Janice was scolding Guillome for washing the green beans in shampoo."What the hell are you doing? Our whole salad is now going to taste like Pantene!!" she yelled.Guillome threw up his hands in resignation. She had asked him to wash the vegetables, he has not a clue how to cook and certainly no items in his kitchen that would make washing the green beans seem like a simple task...so he did what seemed most logical...he washed them in the sink with shampoo."What the fuck? You asked me to wash them, no?" he thundered.I patted Guillome on the shoulder and took up my post as sous chef, relieving him of his duties."I thought all French could cook," I joked.Shadiq rushed in after me and figured the best way to save the green beans while I helped Janice with the main course....It was funny, in a way, two Americans (from a culture NOT known for its culinary prowess) and one Arab (from a culture not known to have men in the kitchen frequently) saving the meal from the Frenchman.In the meantime, our friend Joyce, a Jewish-American, turned up with the wine."Does she know about Guillome's anti-Jewish thing this week?" I asked."She's immune...she speaks French," Janice said.I watched Joyce take up a seat next to Guillome and Gavin on the couch, and couldn't resist saying to Guillome, "You seem to be very selective in your racism these days...sitting there with two Jews...one an American!""She is NOT like most Americans!" Guillome corrected. "She speaks French fluently...unlike the rest of you uncultured people...Americans are like big puppy dogs that should be neutered at birth...it would save the rest of the world a lot of frustration...."Gavin couldn't resist, "Yeah, why is it that you have this massive Mexican population over there but none of you can speak a word of Spanish to know that they are crapping in your lettuce? And then you wonder why your country keeps getting these e-coli outbreaks! Most Mexicans crap in fields, it is a statistically proven fact!"I was about to protest but shook my head and turned back to slicing the steak.A few minutes later, we all bent our heads to give thanks for our meal and for our friendshipWe gave thanks in English, Arabic, French and then Hebrew.I then, to be cool, I gave thanks in Spanish...to rub eveyone's nose in it a little bit.I saw Guillome subtly slide his green beans to the farthest reaches of his plate."Hey! Just because I can speak Spanish doesn't mean I poop in the vegetable patch!" I said.Guillome sighed..."No, I know that, Americans are ridiculously clean...to the point of sterility. It's rather unhealthy and gross, actually. But the problem is that I washed these beans in shampoo and now they taste like SHIT. OK?"We all had a good laugh and continued with our meal.God bless my friends, and all their eccentricities.