I Dream a Highway

Traveling in Uganda is somewhat of an oxymoron. There are buses, taxis, and cars all with a suggested capacity that is widely ignored. For our journey from Luweero to the capital of Kampala- 14 of us took a taxi minivan and swerved our way south. There are lines on the road- again a mere suggestion of traffic rules. However, you more than likely look up just in time to see a large bus in your lane swerving on two wheels back to the other side of the road as a motorcycle flies by the opposite side of your vehicle. If you’re lucky, the taxi slows down for the potholes that make Nebraska roads look smooth as silk. The “bus park” is organized chaos. The bus is one that greyhound might have produced in 1965, but tends to fly at about 90 miles/hour. I found it best to pretend it was a train ride. What did make our journey fun was being able to travel with the other volunteers in our group- it made the time fly almost as fast as the overcrowded bus.

Peace was chased by a chicken

Animals are everywhere in Uganda- goats in front of the bar claiming and protecting mounds of dirt, chickens run freely, little boys chase cows for fun, the government gave out piglets for new births. People cultivate animals on the small plots of land at their homes (incidentally, a little FYI courtesy of my pal Lisandro- people have not cultivated a new animal in the past 2,000 years). Because of this prevalence of animals here, the children also assume that I too own animals in the states and are often surprised when I tell them I don’t have cows- although being from Nebraska and living in California- this question seems to be a prevalent one in my life.

At the school in the west, I was assigned the task of editing letters the children wrote to sponsors in America. (Think, Dear Ndugu). Most of the letters mentioned the activities and many happenings of their family’s goat- whether it was missing, had a kid, had eaten their homework, etc. It was quite nice to be able to correct someone else’s grammar for a bit instead of everyone correcting mine.

As for the chickens- I watched one eat a snake at my host family’s house- can you say “free range”? The school also had chickens as an income generating project, and one had chicks. I was asked if I wanted to hold one. Then a child, named Peace, was sent in to get a chick for me. Most of the children have an English name as well as an African name. Each child has a different African name other than their parent’s so it’s often difficult to distinguish family lines based on names. But back to Peace- the mother hen was not happy about that decision- thus my new catch phrase: Peace was chased by a chicken.

Turn off your headlamp, you look like a tourist.

I've spent the last weekend in the southwest of the country with another trainee and current volunteer. This was the first piece of many useful tidbits of advice I received. It was a great trip and morale booster to be able to visit a community and see how a volunteer manages it all. We started with a lovely moonlit picnic and finished up with some guitar entertainment, provided by our hosts. I was able to experience a heated bucket bath which felt like a 45 minute bubble bath- soooo nice! A few of us are meeting up in Mbarara for the night before heading on back to training. Visiting the region where I will likely be placed provided a light at the end of the long training tunnel- granted it was not a headlight.

Buckets and Bananas and Booda-Boodas, Oh My!

A bucket- who would know this would be the most useful tool to have here in Luweero, Uganda. A bucket for bathing twice a day, a bucket to do your laundry with, a bucket to carry water, and a bucket for your room-> you can draw your own conclusions on what that's for. I'm expected to strip down to the nude in a small cement room twice a day and pour freezing water over me- needless to say, getting out of bed is even harder than usual when you know this fate awaits you. But bathing is very important here expecially as dusty as your legs and feet become. My laundry is done in a series of four buckets then hung on the line to dry- or perhaps for a second rinse cycle, seeing how the weather has been as of late. Water is collected as rain water into a large basin and carried in buckets about a block away, which we collect every evening.
Bananas in every way shape and form are served here. Plantains mashed up is called Matoke which is served at almost every meal. Tiny bananas are at breakfast, bananas mashed and added to onion and tomato is yet another form. There is a variety of foods available- tomatoes, avocados, pineapples are in season now, papaya, rice, maize, beans are all part of a typical meal. My house has a chicken coop and a lovely rooster which sets its wake up call for 4 am. I can't wait until November when the mango trees ripen!
Bicylces and scooters are everywhere here- although most are called "booda booda"s which originated from "border-border" when they would use these as the primary transport between bordering villages. It's hard to remember that, being a previous British colony, the cars drive on the left side of the road. This has caused rampant confusion among the volunteers here, and a small "near death" experience when 5 of us were walking along the right American side, wrong here, and caused a major booda booda pile up. After many apologies in all the languages we're learning, we walked away luckily unscathed.
So as long as I get used to my bucket bath, bananas in every form, and on the lookout for booda boodas- I think I'll manage Uganda culture just fine.

It's Easier to Leave than to Be Left Behind

So this is it, mere hours towards departure and what a whirlwind it's been- but well worth the ride. My goals were to reclaim summer and work on a tan in hope of not standing out in Africa. Done and done- although I readily admit the latter was a vain attempt. Things that are running through my head currently include: will my Herbal Essence shampoo attract killer bees, why did I watch "The Last King of Scotland" the week before I left, is that green dress too low cut for Uganda, I wonder what happened to my orange Nalgene, why am I uploading The Office onto my iPod when I should be signing life insurance documents, should I bring Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows along and risk the immediate judgement, is my layover in Chicago long enough to grab a drink in Wrigleyville. These are the pressing issues I'm facing.

I've had some amazingly welcome distractions this past week, thanks to the 3 day wedding rituals- which I never knew included skinny dipping. Some Omaha brides are just so traditional. So here's a shout out to the pious friends and drunken companions that made the last few days before my departure a side splittin riot. Keep on truckin through the two year plan. See ya in a few.