The following is the truth – nothing but the truth – so help me Gulu:
It’s going on two weeks without eggs in Gulu and it will be another week before egg delivery. Somewhere I suppose there were eggs hiding out in small clutches – there are certainly chickens. Perhaps they are on strike. But Holly and Bill, my great friends from Kolongo are visiting and staying at Casita Nancy and it’s their 39thwedding anniversary.
In celebration, they brought along a sacred bag of brownie mix from the States. And said mix requires one egg. I’m not in the mood to substitute a banana or applesauce (not that there is applesauce in Gulu…)
On the way back from getting breakfast (THEY have eggs – somehow) at a place we could charge our computers and access Wi-Fi, we stopped by Uchumi, the biggest grocery in Gulu, in the hope that a big chain would have eggs. No eggs…. at least no eggs for sale. But wait!
Just about the time we were consoling ourselves over the absence of eggs, sighted in my peripheral vision was tray of eggs held high in the air in the hand of a Uchumi employee headed to the bakery. Ah HA! Chase that man down, certainly we can talk/beg him into selling ONE. I am not above grovelling for something that will ultimately emerge in chocolate.
On the off chance I can weedle an egg from this man, I put on my most charmingly pitiful face and explained I really need just one egg – could he let me buy just one from the bakery stash. It’s a good day – he agrees after talking to the bakery folks. Who in the world would want just one egg anyway – but she’s a Muzungu and there’s no tellin’.
Somewhat bemused, he hands me the solitary egg, which I clutch to my chest like a mother hen – after all it’s the golden egg from which brownies will be born. After collecting a few more items I went to pay and put my treasures on the counter. The woman checker looks at the egg – looks at me – one egg?
This is the conversation which ensued – delivered in the stilted Uganglish (but always p-o-l-i-t-e) we use here:
Clerk: “You cannot buy one egg.”
Me: “One egg is all I was able get.”
Clerk: “But we do not sell just one egg.”
Me: Smiling, “Well, your man in the bakery gave me that egg to buy because the eggs are finished”
Clerk: Bored, refrain – “We do not sell just one egg.”
Me: Still smiling, “I know that is usually true, but I need an egg and you do not have eggs. I talked to your employee in the bakery where you DO have eggs and he was nice enough to get this one for me.”
Clerk: “But we do NOT SELL just one egg; we sell eggs by the tray of one dozen.”
Me: Matter of fact-ly, “You do not have a dozen – in fact your – eggs are finished, but the bakery gave me this ONE egg to buy. It is OK.”
Clerk: Disgusted, “Madam’ – we – do – NOT – sell – just – one – egg!” (Note: everywhere else you can buy one egg, 20 eggs, 200 eggs…)
Me: Getting a little more direct, “I’ve been here two years and I have purchased three eggs, six eggs… now I am buying ONE egg, because that is what the bakery would sell me and that is what I’m leaving with.”
Clerk: Gave me the look… and now several others are in on the conversation trying to explain to this obviously deaf or stupid white woman that WE DO NOT SELL ONE EGG!
Me: Raising my eyebrows, “I’m leaving with this egg…”
Clerk: Now the look has escalated to “Over my dead body.” A crowd is gathering.
Me: “You sell boiled eggs in the bakery- right?
Clerk: “Yes?”
Me: “I could buy just one boiled egg?”
Clerk: “Yes, but this egg is not boiled…”
Me: “Pretend it is boiled and I will pay you for one boiled egg. I AM leaving with this egg…”
Clerk: “But that egg is NOT boiled and they count the eggs.”
Me: “ In all due respect, I’m leavin’ with this egg – so let’s find a way to make that happen. Count it as boiled.”
Clerk: Exasperated – she puts the egg in a bag. I tell Holly to grab the bag to establish possession.
Me: “How much is a boiled egg? 400 schillings? I will pay you 400 – no – make that 500 – even a 1000 sh. – I NOT LEAVING WITHOUT THAT EGG!”
Clerk: Sends a messenger to the bakery to get the code for a boiled egg.
Me: My heart quickens. Success is near! Already fantasizing about the possibility of brownies cooked in series in the small toaster oven – if the power comes back.
Clerk: Snatches the printed sticker with code from the messenger clerk and stabs the number into the cash register.
Holly: Clutching the egg – she is beginning to move toward the door…
Me: “Apwoyo matek,” to the gathered crowd, I dash for the door before she changes her mind.
We STILL don’t have the brownies – “power is finished,” but we have the prized egg and brownie mix. Hope springs eternal.