Ain't No Mountain High Enough

... or continent far enough to keep my brother and Kim from visiting me! After a delayed flight and much anticipation, Dave and Kim touched down to Uganda and where thrown into a 12-day Uganda-stravaganza. A whirlwind tour of the national parks with giraffe, elephants, hippo, crocs, and cranes, time at my site teaching kids ultimate Frisbee and bead making, hiking some waterfalls, partying in a cave and getting waterboarded by the Nile- ok, rafting, I sent the kids exhausted and likely smelly, back on a plane to the states. It was a blast having them here to show off this amazing country and its highlights and challenges. After they got over the culture shock, they picked up on all the local culture, and hopefully are still annoying you all back in America with calling everyone "muzungu" and demanding "you come", passive eye-brow raising, hmmming and "Ah HUH!" exclamations.
A common question that other volunteers pose to visiting family and friends is "Has he/she changed at all?" Dave's response: "Nah- she just thinks she knows more" Thanks bro- right back at ya! Save up for Africa Round II!

A Day in the Life... of a PC Superhero!

First put on your lifesaving uniform

Then hop on your PCmobile and you're off to save the world!

Through Health demonstrations

And Nutrition presentations

At times, it requires tricky disguises to blend in

Sometimes it works!

Other times, its obvious you're a superhero

All of this can be quite exhausting, even a superhero needs a rest

But soon you're on your feet again, nothing can hold you back from saving the world!

Am I part of the cure or am I part of the disease?

My PC friend, Kate, just returned from a state-side visit and admitted she was excited to get back to Africa. “America’s weird” she confessed. We half joked about a few cultural adaptations we’ve adopted, accepted, and adhered to here in Uganda that may get us on the Miss Manners hit list, if not several traffic/civil responsibility violations in the states
- Public nose picking: perfectly acceptable
- Cellphone ettiquitte: definitely acceptable to answer your phone during a sermon…. That YOU'RE giving
- Power outages: power is a gift that the gods can take away at any moment, no need to worry, just continue your dinner by light of your cellphone
- Littering- no fines, just toss it out the window of the moving bus
- Bargaining over 10 cents: it’s the “principle” of the matter, really
- A compact car seats 11 comfortably: Laws of Quantum Physics are constantly tested as we attempt to defy the theory that no 2 things can exist in the same place at the same time
- A simple nod to indicate yes- too much work, just raise the eyebrows

And while much of PC is about adapting and “cultural integration”, it leaves me wondering how “used” we are getting to life here. Am I accepting even the complacency, the apathy that this is just how life is here? Have I become ok with littering just because there are no trash receptables? Why do I just shrug when the power goes out because Uganda first sells its power to neighboring countries for a profit prior to meeting its own countries needs and demands?

Sarah and I recently traveled from the local large town, Mbarara, where we watched with annoyance as our 4 door manual Toyota filled from 6, to 8, to 10- 4 of us in front with the driver sharing the seat and reaching over a passenger to shift, and 6 people in back. As we bargained the driver down since he was overcrowding the car, a woman in back offered “You see how we suffer here? Now when you go back to your country, you will ask for more funding, more aid to help us”

If Sarah and I had room to reel around and face the woman we would have. Exhausted, squished, our heads bouncing against the roof and windows, we yelled over the blown out stereo blasting, “We’re suffering with you. Why don’t YOU demand more from your government, we do provide aid, but it lands in the pockets at the top.” The car ride was silent then, except for the blaring of the radio.

But our outburst left me thinking , if 75% of Uganda’s budget is foreign aid, people here are used to receiving handouts, aid, grants with little community participation. But what is the answer as Americans? To borrow from a cheesy Coldplay song, are we part of the cure, or are we part of the disease?

As a “development worker” I may continue eyebrow raising for passive agreement, and enjoy the freedom of public nose picking, but the real disease- the apathy, complacency and helplessness that exists with extreme poverty, is something I think we’re all here to eradicate. And just maybe our enthusiasm, awareness and support can be part of the cure.

Dance Yo Pants off!

Of the many many differences I encounter here, one of the most beautiful is the traditional dancing- the costumes are the traditional wear of a married Bankole woman, and their dance moves reflect the movement of the large-horned cows (Ankole cattle) moving through the fields. They're dancing the Bishop who visited (one would have thought Jesus was coming the way they prepared) But it was an amazing thing to be a part of. I was able to help the girls into the traditional wear of a married woman as well as learn the songs. They tried to convince me to learn the dance, but I didn't want to steal their thunder with my amazing dance moves.... or not so much- Mom, remember the time you tried to take me to step areobics, definately got Dad's sense of coordination, and I apoligize to all other past dance partners whose toes I've clomped or knocked down on the dance floor. Yeah, no traditional dance for me, but here it is for you to enjoy.

Let's Hear It for The Boys

So here it is, Jon and Stoops. A shout out to my boys that put out. Ok, not really. But this is a shout out. I've been blessed/cursed here at site to have fellow Peace Corps neighbors a stone's throw away from me. All of this will soon change, as these fellas pack up, give me all of their stuff I want, and head back to America in May. However, the Peace Corps Gods have decided that another volunteer should be placed... in my yard. Literally. A new house is going up for the PCV coming in mid April. So Jon and Stoops- for the times we've laughed (mostly at each other) and the times we've cried (silently in our rooms so as not to show weakness) and especially the times we've had one too many Nile Specials and stumbled home, I'll miss you. Don't ever change.

Buenvenidos a Miami

So there we were... on a nontypical Kampala Adventure. Wes, Bunza, Sarah (3 other PCV's) and I had exhausted all things American in Kampala- bowling, pizza, movies, casinos, dancing- and decided to hop the "Glory to God III" matatu and head down to Port Bell on Lake Victoria, where Bell Breweries is located. Using our powers of persuasion (ie, pulling the "Muzungu" card) we attempted to convince the guards to allow us on a brewery tour, but were told to come back on a day that wasn't the Lord's day (hard to come by in Uganda). We then searched for the paved bike/rollerblade path that circumvents the lake, but settled for a dirt road full of debris and potholes called "Lakeshore drive". As we meandered, we came upon massive webs, and in them, equally massive spiders. Bunza risked his head to take some amazing photos while i helpfully pointed out which spiders were coming closer and closer to his face.

Next, we found some decent signage pointing the way down to the lake.... or Florida.
After paying 4 times the price to get into the beach front property, we explored the area, and settled down in some lawn chairs watching the Ugandans swim in the Trichinosis infested waters and sipped some beers. A man came up and asked if we would like to go on a boat ride out to the island and after negotiating a price, the man brought his motorboat around and we piled on board, beers and all, ready for a booze cruise.
We banked on the island and set out to explore the small fishing community. As we trekked the island, we noticed again, a group of the massive spiders. Then to our horror (and perhaps Bunza's pleasure) we noticed massive webs covering all the trees. Out guide informed us that this was known as Spider Island, but that the spiders are harmless and make silk, which apparently no one harvests. Our guide and boat driver ended up being from my village and also was working with an organization that Wes had worked closely with and as the world of Uganda became smaller, we happened upon the owner of the island, Frank, a Ugandan who had worked with Peace Corps volunteers in the National Parks. We chatted with Frank, who bid us well and ended with words of warning 'Watch out for the cobras"

There'd be a different story to tell if the words of advice were needed, but alas, we left spider, and apparently cobra island fairly unscathed, although Wes had a wicked encounter with some Cassava, a local tuber that apparently can get lodged under one's toenail. ...

As we drifted back to Miami Beach, reflecting upon the randomness of the adventure, one of the Ugandans floating in a tire tube near our boat welcomed us back with a "Welcome to Miami". And with that we returned to Kampala, and well, partied in the city where the heat was on.

Saving Babies, Etc.

John Boscoe's Crapping face. (Yup, that's his name)

Handmade bears donated by Mother Bear (they were on the ground 2 minutes later, in favor of the digital camera)