"You need a man!" A Story of Recovery

I flipped out on my driver, Robert, yesterday.

This is a highly unusual scenario as Robert is one of my best friends in the Universe and the fact that I am having any modicum of a normal life here in Uganda is due, in a large part, to him.

Robert and I also have a multi-layered relationship that allows for human fallacy. He knows I hate to be late so he is always on time, I know he hates to be out past 9pm so I make sure I end all of my meetings early. Sometimes I am late and sometimes he stays out all night with me, but there is a give-and-take going on at all times. It is very typical of Africa (and not just Uganda) and I am used to it by now. I know what upsets Robert and is unacceptable to him just as he knows what upsets me and is, ultimately, unacceptable. We work around each other but despite the fact that I am his boss and he is my employee, we don't have a typical relationship.

I have thought long and hard about this and I have recently read an excellent book on the toic ("Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles" by Richard Dowden) that seems to confirm my conclusions.

First, Americans are not and never have been "colonizers." It is just not in our blood. You can say a lot about Americans but being "colonial" just doesn't occur to us. We make some bad mistakes because we are an individualistic society where personal freedom and success is prized above intricate relationships but we are not, by nature, overlords.

Second, Ugandans have really never had a colonial experience. This was a British colony ruled indirectly and most Ugandans have no memory of being "a colony" of Britain. I have spent time in about 20 sub-Saharan African countries by now and I have never found a place quite like Uganda.

In Kenya, I wanted to die when a waitress bowed to me after I gave her a generous tip. In Congo, I cringed when I went to shake the hotel bellboy's hand and he quickly slipped on a white glove and kneeled. In Sierra Leone, I wanted to hide my face when the Lebanese bartender, in perfect ear shot of her African employees, scoffed, "Stupid dogs, the lot of them!"

It's not like that in Uganda. Unfortunately, many Asians who live here treat Ugandans badly but, by and large, Ugandans are not a colonized people. This is good, at least for me, because no one considers my skin color too much before considering my friendship. I don't get preferential treatment because I am white unless someone is actively looking for something.

In short, Ugandans don't expect to be treated badly because they are African and, as an American, that works very well with my American culture of treating people based on the individual, not any of the other stuff (OK, some may argue that Americans are prejudiced against Muslims right now but that is a topic for another time).

This is why Robert and I are friends and this is why he got so upset when I lost my mind this morning.

"Madame Boss, what is wrong with you? You never yell or get angry...I am only ten minutes late...what is the problem??!!" he asked.

I used to have a bad temper. I used to explode a lot.

That left me almost completely when I came to Africa. Getting angry and having a tantrum here is counter-productive. It won't get you anywhere. Africans (maybe with the exception of Nigerians and Somalis) consider outward displays of anger to be the highest form of disrespect. If you get angry and express it loudly, you will be ignored.

Don't get me wrong, Ugandans are very blunt, but having a complete meltdown in public will do nothing to help you or your cause.

That's why Robert was so confused.

He looked at me solemnly and said, "Madame Boss, don't you think it is time for a man now? I think it is time..."

Of course, in America, this very conversation would be counter-productive but Robert is my friend and he knows me, intuitively, as well as most of my American friends who have known me for more than a decade.

"I don't know, Robert, that seems to be too quick. I don't think a man will help...I think I just need to be without a man for a few months," I said.

Robert whistled through his teeth and shook his head vigorously.

"No, you need a man. You have been in a bad humor since you came back from America last month. Only moving to our house (everything between me and Robert, from my house to his children, is "ours"), playing with the dogs, cooking, and gardening seem to make you happy. But that's it. So it is time for a new man. Now, Boss, now, now," he emphasized.

"Robert, I am not in the mood to go hang out at the country club for hours on weekends when I have so much to do here...where will I find this man?" I asked, joking.

"Well, what about Eric?" he asked.

It wasn't like I hadn't considered it before.

Eric is my internet service guy. He went to school and has a Master's degree in computer science. My internet service here is amazing, unlike most places in Uganda, because of Eric. I pay for a home subscription and get a corporate one because I refer business to Eric on the side. I have probably referred him, and his company, close to $6,000 in the past four months, but, then again, I am paying $120 a month for what should be a $300 per month service. My internet works when the President's doesn't. It's that good.

But it all works out in the end. This is Africa.

Eric is also ridiculously handsome and smart. He is Bugandan, the dominant tribe in Uganda, but he is almost six feet tall and smells so good that sometimes I schedule a service call just to see him and talk to him...and smell him.

Over the past six months we have become friends and we text message each other on a daily basis. Sometimes it is just silly stuff but we always keep in contact. Eric is a friend.

Which is why I was so nervous about Robert's suggestion that it should be anything more.

"Eric and I are friends, Robert. I don't think it is possible to date him," I tried.

"Madame Boss, if I may, you are being so ridiculous right now. In Uganda, men and women are not 'friends' unless there is something else going on. This may be common in America but it is not in Uganda. Eric has always liked you, I promise," he said.

I got even more nervous and went to my office manager, Hadijah, for her advice.

"Yes, I know Eric. He was married for one month to a lady who was the sister of my boss but he broke the marriage because he couldn't stand to be so constrained. He went to school in England, you know, and he was also one of Kagame's (President of Rwanda) soldiers in 1994, so he thinks a little differently," she said.

"We're friends," I told her.

She laughed.

"Yeah, OK, you're friends. I know you talk to him all the time but that doesn't mean 'friends' in Uganda, Patricia. I was waiting for you to wake up to this. No one wants to approach you because your last boyfriend was a Colonel. No one accepts that you are single. Eric is brave in that he has pursued it this long. But, like I said, he is different. You should give it a try, I will watch him carefully," Hadijah said.

This is another fine and upstanding African trait: everyone is connected so you are always protected.

"OK, Robert, do the matchmaking," I said in the car today as we were running errands, "I am sure it won't work..."

It took ten minutes and he ran into the store to find me.

"Eric is so happy right now, Madame Boss!" he said, "He has liked you for six months and he understands muzungus (whites/foreigners) but he is different...I think it was all that time in the Rwandan army and in England...but he likes you. AND there are no other girlfriends, I made sure!"

Robert was so happy that it was contagious. I felt myself starting to get a better attitude.

Then, suddenly, I was nervous.

I have dated a South African and a Nigerian before but I have never dated a Ugandan. I am ridiculously anal about culture so I was a mess.

"What do I do next?" I asked Robert.

"Invite him for dinner. He knows muzungu food so cook that one I love...lass-att-ee?" he advised.

Also known as lasagne.

"OK, I can do that. But when is dinner?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, 7pm, at our (your) house," Robert said.

I was a little stunned, I am not used to having someone make my dates for me...but, again, this is Uganda.

Eric called me immediately.

"Hey, I am a bit nervous and I figure you must be feeling the same...is tomorrow night OK?" he asked.

"Yes, it is OK. Do you like lasagne?" I asked.

"I think so but I will let you know for sure when I taste it," he joked.

"But first we should look at your hard drive, I am a little worried about it's health," he said.

In my mind the thought raced, "Yes, PLEASE, let's look at the hard drive first, preferably mine and not the computer's!" but I said nothing.

Then, two hours later, he called again.

"Hey, Trish (no one has ever called me this but no matter how many times I correct him, I am always 'Trish'), I am in the area. Do you mind if I stop over?"

I had a momentary panic attack as my housekeeper, Kate, and I were peeling potatoes and figuring out how to use our new grill but then thought, "What the hell, he has seen me in worse states so why not now with potato peels in my hair?"

So I said "OK," and Eric arrived ten minutes later.

He walked in, took one look at me, and laughed.

"You are covered in flour and potatoes, what are you making?!!" he asked.

I tried to explain as he grabbed my hand and dragged me out to the balcony with the bottle of wine he had brought.

"Let's not be nervous, it is no different than before," he said.

"It is. Now you know I like you and now I know you like me," I said, feeling like I was ten.

"I've always liked you. In Uganda, men and women are not friends unless there is something else going on," he related.

(Thanks, I got that one by now)

After our second glass of wine, we relaxed and he put his foot over mine on the outdoor table.

"Better, right?" he asked.

Yes, much better indeed.

Eric left an hour later without so much as a kiss passing between us. He is still coming for dinner tomorrow night but I am no longer nervous.

I called Robert a few minutes ago and said, "Eric came over, he is really a nice guy. Thank you for setting this up."

"No problem" was all Robert said.