Well, I am pretty sure that I am getting my money's worth coming to Africa! If going to Rwanda didn't do it, seeing a circumcision definitely took the cake. Last weekend, (10/9-10/10), most of our group headed to Mbale for a class field trip. All we knew was that we were going to see a circumcision, but I don't think we truly knew what we were heading to.
We left early in the morning for a 3 hour drive to Mbale and stayed at a college campus there. We had tea, breakfast, listened to a speaker for about an hour talk about how a circumcision ritual is done, lunch right after, then off to the adventure of a lifetime! We drove in a huge bus and 1 van as far as we could go before the mud hindered out travel. It had been raining heavily for the past 3 days and the village that we went to was filled with muddy trails. By the time we actually reached the top, we had hiked about 5 miles UP a mountain in ankle deep mud. Most of the people in our group wiped out and were covered in mud. Even those of us who didn't fall were magically covered in mud. We got to the top sweaty, muddy, and out of breath and gathered around a group of men. This group consisted of the "doctor" who would be performing the ceremony and then other random helpers and family members. The boy who was going to be circumcised was only 14 years old. That seems old when it's in terms of what he is about to experience, but young in terms of calling someone a man. He was rushed up the mountain by about 10ish men and shoved in the middle of this circle of a bunch of Mzungus(us), hundreds of small children, and a bunch of other village people. The 1st cut was the cutting of the foreskin. The "doctor" did that and it was over before I even realized what was happening. After that was cut off, the boy was sent to run 6 miles!!! After he ran, he came back to the circle and they cut 2 more times. He then had to run another 6 miles!! The boy was not allowed to make any noises or cry and I am honestly surprised how well he did. After it was all over, he looked at all us Mzungus and laughed and danced. It was so funny to me that he was the one in pain, but he was laughing at us because we were so shocked/disgusted/amazed. It was a bloody, graphic sight to see, but interesting also.
When everything was said and done, the people rejoiced and drums were played, everyone danced, and we had a big dance party on top of the muddy mountain! I would say that it was a neat experience to have, but that I would not want to see it again-haha. I don't necessarily agree with this tradition, but I respect them for it. Now, after our amazing dance party, we had to get back down the mountain. This was proving to be more of a challenge than walking up the mountain. 1. The mud was worse from sooo many people walking up the mountain. 2. It was starting to rain. 3. It was getting dark 4. There were more people walking down than we had originally seen walking up 5. African men get mighty grabby when night comes! haha. A lot of people fell again on the way down, but I was a champion and never fell! We got back a little after dark and I'm not gonna lie, it was a bit scary. But, we survived to tell about it and the mud definitely made for a better story.
