Eating My Way Through Kampala

            I just returned from a weeklong trip to Kampala – a trip that was pretty much devoted to seeing how much Chelsea and I could eat.  We had to come to Kampala for a two-day DSR (District Security Representative) training.  As DSRs, we are in charge of sending out security updates to our fellow PCVs in our region.  (Can you tell that PC loves acronyms?).  I wasn’t too thrilled about having to come to Kampala, again, but the training was at the US Embassy.  The embassy is really nice and has air conditioning, so that was a plus.  We were also given per diem, which Chelsea and I blew all on food.  We were supposed to return home on Saturday, but Chelsea and I both had to stay until Monday in order to go to medical.  I have been sick for almost two months, but I have been too lazy to get checked out.  All my friends, however, were nagging me to go to medical because they said something was seriously wrong with me.  Barbara, our PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer), was at our DSR training – so I really had no excuse to not talk to her about my symptoms.  Nevertheless, I was in denial and kept telling people I was fine and I could wait until we got checked out at mid-service.  As a result, Chelsea took it upon herself to talk to Barbara for me and insisted that she make me come in to medical. 

            Chelsea and I both had to wait until Monday for appointments, which meant a weekend in Kampala.  (Fine by me since I got to stay at my embassy sponsor’s, again!)  All we did was eat and talk about food.  So you can get an idea, here was our Saturday:

-       Breakfast: eggs, toast, and bacon

-       Snack: Waffles with butter and syrup and lattes

-       Lunch: Salami sandwiches with cheese, lettuce, tomato, and cucumber

-       Snack: Chocolate bars

-       Dinner: Pita with hummus and veggie dip.  BBQ chicken and chips.

-       Dessert: Ice Cream

We ate ourselves sick every day, but we would continue to talk about “what we would eat next.”  I was already sick, so I am sure you can all imagine what this food was doing to my digestive system.  I did not care, our days revolved around where we wanted to go to eat.   After training on Friday, Dylan, Chelsea, Bethany and I were all starving.  We went to a restaurant and Chelsea went to the grocery store to buy big waters.  Dylan and I were famished and we decided we couldn’t wait for Chelsea to come back, so we ordered for her.  When she came back, I told her, “We ordered you a bacon cheeseburger.  Hope you’re okay with that because we are hungry and we want our food now.”  Chelsea looked at us like “are you serious?” laughed and said that was fine.  I’m pretty sure when our food came, we didn’t even chew.  Later that night, we went out for Chinese food and ordered a “round two” and then went to the grocery store to get drumstick ice cream cones.  I’m not going to lie; I think my pants are a little tighter after this week in Kampala.

Chelsea, Audrey, Rachel and I all had to go to medical on Monday, so it was a party!  I’m going to warn you that this next story is really quite gross, and I can’t believe I’m posting it on the Internet…  Rachel and I were both having GI problems, so we had to give stool samples.  The cups they gave us were tiny.  We sat on the couches in the waiting room discussing our plan of attack - how we could manage pooping in this cup without making a mess?  (This is really one of the reasons I refused to go to medical, I have stage fright and I didn’t want to poop in a cup thank you very much!)  I made Rachel go first, and she came out and said, “I figured out the perfect way.  Put paper towel in your hand, poop in it, and then use the scraper to scrape it off into the cup.”  Audrey and I looked at her with raised eyebrows and started laughing.  I could not believe Rachel pooped in her hand and she was now telling me to do the same.  I headed to the bathroom, still laughing, and Audrey and Rachel both yelled, “Good luck!”  Well, all I am going to say is, when I got in the bathroom…Rachel’s plan started to seem a little more reasonable.  I will let you all guess what I did…  Let’s just say, I think I have forever sealed my fate of being single for the rest of my life now that I have posted this for the world to see.  It turns out that I actually was sick and I had amoebic colitis.  So I was given a bunch of antibiotics to take for the next week.  I’m feeling better, now, so it’s all good! 

On Tuesday, I went to Lugogo Mall (a large shopping center) to wait for Peace Corps to pick me up.  (Peace Corps will drive you to and from medical; it’s awesome!)  I was waiting in the parking lot and this woman walked by in a short, tight, hot pink strapless dress with four-inch heels.  I was horrified.  This outfit would not be appropriate at any shopping center in America, let alone Uganda.  We don’t show our power here!!  (For those that have forgotten, a woman’s thighs are her “power.”)  This outfit was absurd and I needed a picture to show people.  I took out my iPhone and proceeded to try and take a picture.  As I’m holding up my phone, I hear someone say, “Look, she is taking a picture!”  I turn around and there are two marines behind me cracking up laughing.  Busted.  I turned back and unfortunately I had lost the photo op.  The marines apologized for distracting me and commented on how awesome the outfit was.  I just said, “Wow, that’s really embarrassing I just got caught.  Guess I’m not very covert.”  Thankfully, I saw this lady again when I was at Nakumatt and I got my picture.  I was a little slyer this time and I pretended to be talking on the phone while taking the picture. 

Classy!  I blurred out her face because I thought that was the polite thing to do. 

Anyway, school is quickly coming to an end – I feel like it just started!  So I am finishing up and getting more and more excited to go to Egypt in a month.  

Late Night Intruder (Sorta)

            As per usual, the power was out the other night.  My house was completely dark except for the light coming from my computer screen.  I was watching “Friday Night Lights” and ogling over the sexy Tim Riggins when my front door pushed open.  I looked and saw a tall figure carrying a huge gun.  I lurched back on my couch and screamed until I caught a glint of green from the eskari’s uniform.  (They call guards eskaris in Uganda).  The eskari started saying, “Sorry, sorry” and stepped away from my door.  I, of course, started hysterically laughing because my scream terrified the eskari and I realized that I was not about to be robbed at gunpoint (or shot).  My eskari continued to say, “Sorry, sorry” and he held up my solar charger for me to see.  Turns out, I had left my charger outside and he had knocked on my door to let me know.  My door, however, was unlocked, so it just pushed open.  I think he felt pretty bad and he was embarrassed.  I kept saying, “Sorry, I couldn’t see who it was.  Don’t worry about it.”  I am sure it did not take long for my neighbors to catch wind of that story…  Oh and I am sure all of you are thinking, “WHY wasn’t your door locked?”  Well, all I can say is, I thought it was.  Whoopsie!

            A while back, Peace Corps Volunteers could sign up for an “embassy sponsor” – we would be paired with a staff member from the US Embassy who would open up his or her home for us whenever we were in Kampala.  Obviously I signed up because one of the bullet points said, “hot shower and hot meal!”  Is there anything better?  I went to Kampala this past weekend because my friend from home, Kiera, is in town for the week.  I decided to stay with my sponsor, Nathan, and it was pretty much life changing.  I could go on an on about the greatness of it all – my own bedroom and bathroom, hot shower, good food, washer and dryer, and American TV.  He drove me around in his car (air conditioned!), which was really nice of him and I was happy that I did not have to take public transport.  I also got to play WII Mario Cart at his friend’s house.  I felt like I was back in America and I got to see Kiera – I was one happy Peace Corps Volunteer.  Needless to say, I wish I had more excuses to go to Kampala.  I think that next time I am going to bring all of my dirty laundry…too much?

            On Wednesday, my counterpart and I held a Learning Aids and Activities Workshop for the four model schools in Budaka District.  (Of course Namengo Girls is a model school!).  The head teacher and two teachers from each school attended, so there were about twelve teachers in attendance.  This workshop happened to be one of my favorites so far – we actually kept time!  I also had fun because I did a lot of activities with the teachers and they all got really into them.  One of the activities was Multiplication Bingo and the teachers went nuts.  They had never played “Bingo” before, but after the first round, they were pumped about the game.  (I was giving the winner biscuits, maybe that had something to do with it).  We played roughly ten times until I finally said we had to move on – lots of “ahhs” ensued.  The teachers had a lot of fun with the other activities and I hope that they were motivated to try them out in their own classrooms.

After my presentation of activities, my counterpart held a discussion on the qualities of a good learning aid.  The teachers used my “Multiplication Bingo” as an example of a “model” learning aid.  They all took turns pointing out the qualities that made it a good learning aid.  Some were hilarious:

-       Her letters are all the same height

-       The numbers are written in the proper format (I didn’t know there was an improper format)

-       Good use of colors.  If she had used red, then it would not have been inviting.  (Ya, I totally thought so too.  That’s why I used green.  That or it was just the color marker I happened to grab).

-       It is safe

My "model" learning aid

My counterpart and I encouraged the teachers to develop their own learning aids/activities and then bring them to the resource room.  I will be visiting the model schools in the upcoming weeks to check on their progress (hopefully at least one class isn’t lecture and rote memorization!).  My counterpart and I are hoping to get teachers more involved in the resource room so that they will maintain it and actually use the resources. 

Unfortunately for me, the workshop ended just as the neighboring secondary school was let out for “sports”.  As a result, all the secondary students were walking down the road to the football field as I was walking up to head home.  Well, we all know what happens when we have a large group of hormonal teenagers that get cockier in big groups.  Catcalls.  There is nothing better than getting harassed by a bunch of 15-16 year olds – and of course I laughed, which only exacerbated the problem.  Here is what the first 5 minutes of my walk home sounded like:

-       “Hey baby girl.  What’s up?”  (Followed by kissing sounds)

-       Whistles

-       “Hey mzungu, just give me one hug.”

-       “Hey baby girl, we go make Obama babies.”

-       “Eh, mzungu.  A kiss for me?” 

-       “You are beautiful!”

Granted, laughing was probably the worst thing to do in this situation, but it was so ridiculous!  I laugh in inappropriate situations…it’s a problem sometimes.   

I noticed the other day that the "Kony 2012" video was trending on Facebook.  I am happy to see that more people are becoming aware of the atrocities that have ravaged Northern Uganda, the DRC, and South Sudan for years.  I, however, want to encourage you all to do a little more research if you were moved by the video.  Additionally, before you start shelling out your money for the cause, do your research on the organizations.  I found these articles extremely interesting:

http://blogs.independent.co.uk/2012/03/07/stop-kony-yes-but-dont-stop-asking-questions/  


http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/stop-kony-video-campaign-raises-questions-article-1.1035502?localLinksEnabled=false


http://thedailywh.at/2012/03/07/on-kony-2012-2/?fb_ref=newcontenthole

Some of the learning aids made from local materials (made by other teachers)

Teachers observing the various learning aids in the Resource Room

My counterpart, Cosmas.  He wanted a picture with the learning aids

In front of the CCT office (my counterpart's and my office).  My parents brought this "I Love LA" t-shirt and he was really excited about it.  So he wore it to work and showed it off.  

Texts from Uganda

           I am sure a lot of you are familiar with the website "Texts from Last Night."  Chelsea decided to compile a bunch of Peace Corps Volunteers' texts in order to give you an idea of the sort of texts we send each other.  She posted the texts on her blog.  Here is a little preview: 


"I was about to have a poop attack, but I couldn't find the key to my latrine.  So I pooped in a plastic bag. FML"

"oh and emptied my night bucket for the first time in two days. the smell gave me an instant head ache. oops." (a night bucket is the Peace Corps equivalent of a chamberpot)


"i have the least self control when it comes to american food. but i'm going to try!!"


"i heard you solved your cockroach problem somehow. what did you do?"


"hey you guys still alive?"


"side note: a teacher just raised their hand in the middle of my workshop and told me i look like hannah montana without the wig" 

If you're curious and not too grossed out, then you can check out the rest of our crazy texts on Chelsea's blog:  

http://ugandareadthis-iaintlion.blogspot.com/2012/03/texts-from-uganda-edition.html

The Ugandan Version of a Taxi - It's No NY Cab

            If you ever visit Uganda, or any East African country for that matter, then you need to ride in a taxi in order to get the full experience.  Depending upon where you are, they are called different things: Kenya = matatu, Tanzania = dala dala, and Uganda = taxi.  In a few of my posts, I have mentioned a few particularly eventful taxi rides - whether it was chickens pecking at my feet or my seat catching on fire.  I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride in a taxi?  For those that have forgotten or for those that are not avid followers of my blog, a taxi is a mini van that serves as a sort of bus.  Along with the driver, there is a conductor who sits in the back and he is in charge of looking out for more passengers, collecting the money, and opening and closing the door.  A taxi is supposed to seat about 14 people (4 rows that seat three people and then 2 people up front with the driver).  In most places, however, traffic police doesn’t regulate taxis.  Thus, conductors usually pack in about 20 people in order to get more money.  Here is how a typical ride will usually go for me if I’m heading to Mbale:

 I wait on the side of the main road in Budaka for a taxi to pass.  I usually don’t have to wait very long – 15 minutes max.  There is no set schedule for taxis, but there are plenty of them running along the main road.  A taxi will arrive and I will usually have to haggle with the conductor over the price.  It’s 2,000 shillings, but I’m an mzungu, so they love to try and rip me off.  After agreeing on the price, I’ll squeeze my way into a seat.  Taxis are usually pretty rundown and have at one point been filled with chickens, goats, fish, puking babies, and/or multiple people with BO (most Ugandans don’t wear deodorant).  As you can imagine, they usually smell pretty bad.  I consider it my lucky day if I get a window seat with a window that actually opens (30% of the time they don’t open and it’s such a tease!).  Every now and then, I will sit next to a Ugandan who asks me to marry him and take him to America, which was funny at first, but now I jut get annoyed.  We head down the main road and stop multiple times in order to let people on and off.  Sometimes, I have to get out myself in order to let the person next to me off.  As I said, there is no set schedule or stopping points for taxis, so they stop wherever and whenever – it’s probably the most inefficient form of public transport.  We may stop for one passenger and another may want to get out 50 meters ahead.  Does that passenger get out and walk?  No.  We drive forward and stop again.  (As I said, it’s inefficient).  In addition, if a taxi is fairly empty, then we will usually wait in a bigger trading center for me people.  Overall, the 30km trip to Mbale can take anywhere from 30 minutes to over an hour – it’s really just the luck of the draw.

            My taxi ride to Mbale the other day was particularly eventful.  There was a taxi already at the “stage” in Budaka when I got to town (score!).  Unfortunately, this taxi was in pretty rough shape – the seats were falling apart and it smelled of fish and gasoline.  The floor had some holes, so I could see the road passing by below (always comforting).  I did not have a great feeling about this taxi and I figured it would be one that had to get a push start (oh yeah, this is quite common.  Ryan has even been asked to get out and help push before).  Well, this taxi ended up completely dying after ten minutes.  We all had to get out and sit on the side of the road.  We were in between towns, so there was no place to wait for another taxi - we all had the shade of one tree.  A few boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) passed by and people boarded those and soon it was just down to me and two other guys waiting under a tree.  After twenty minutes, no taxis passed and I was getting impatient.  I decided I would just start walking towards Mbale and hopefully a taxi would pass by.  After another ten minutes, a taxi finally passed and stopped for me.  I was so happy, until I saw that the taxi was completely full.  I gave the conductor a confused look and he gestured for me to sit on another passenger’s lap.  I could not help but to raise my eyebrows and laugh.  Uganda has a culture where men and women shouldn’t display any signs of affection, but this conductor wanted me to sit on this young man’s lap? And I didn’t know him?  Well, I was hot and I wanted to get to Mbale – so screw being culturally appropriate – I was getting in.  I sat on the man’s lap like it was no big deal and everyone in the taxi proceeded to chuckle.  I can’t blame them – an mzungu girl sitting on a Ugandan male’s lap – I’m sure it was quite a sight to see.  Thankfully, after about five minutes, someone got off the taxi and I was able to get off the man’s lap.

            I have been fairly busy now that school has started up, again.  After my “Safe School Environment” workshop, Sister Goretti wanted me to help facilitate the workshop at Namengo Girls (all the teachers that attended were in charge of rolling out the workshop at their own schools).  Thankfully, we cut down the workshop to one day and just covered the basics for the teachers.  I was in charge of talking about corporal punishment and alternative discipline – a topic that always sparks a lot of debate.  Caning (hitting a child with a stick) is a pretty common punishment here in Uganda and it has probably been the most frustrating and hardest thing to deal with since living here.  Students are caned for various reasons: tardiness, talking in class, wrong answers, failing tests, bullying, hitting other students (ironic), etc.  Namengo Girls is one of the better schools when it comes to caning – all of the teachers know I’m strongly opposed to this form of punishment.  Nevertheless, I sometimes hear the slap of a stick and a student’s cries.  Teachers walk around waving a stick in order to intimidate students to get to class.  Even the head girl (like a prefect) carries around a stick and sometimes hits other students.   Teachers justify caning with the following phrases:

1.     “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” – This is from the bible and it’s pretty hard to refute.  I try to explain that this should not be taken literally and that the bible is instead emphasizing that children should be disciplined or they will be spoiled. 

2.     “An African child hears from behind.” – Ugandans are convinced that children can only learn from being hit. 

3.     “No gain without pain.”  - Again, I say this should not be taken literally.

Unfortunately, most Ugandans take most things they hear at face value.  Critical thinking is not taught in schools, so when I say, “don’t take this literally,” most Ugandans don’t understand my point.  As a result, I am sure that most of my fellow teachers only half listened to my presentation.  I talked about the effects of caning and why it is wrong.  I followed up by discussing alternative discipline and gave some examples of appropriate consequences for misbehavior.  The teachers were polite and participated in my activity, but they still continue to carry around sticks today.  I have to accept the fact that I cannot change this behavior with one presentation.  In all likelihood, teachers will probably still cane after I leave in a year.  I try to remind myself that corporal punishment did not start being banned until the 1970s in the US, and in some states, it’s still legal!  Nevertheless, I continue to cringe every time I hear the deafening crack of a stick as it hits a student. 

Last week, I had my first Life Skills class at Budaka F.H.P., which is the school where my Coordinating Center is located.  Technically, this is the school where I am supposed to work, but I have played favorites, and do most of my work at Namengo Girls.  (I’m awful, I know).  Anyway, last Thursday happened to be the day teachers do “guidance and counseling” with the students, so my schedule was messed up.  I am supposed to teach two streams of 40 girl P7 students once a week (one stream on Tuesday and the other on Thursday).  Well, the teachers decided that they wanted me to attend the guidance and counseling sessions instead.  The first session they lumped all the P1 and P2 students together (boys and girls) – so there were about 400 students with limited English speaking skills.  The teachers asked me to talk to them about life skills, but instead I introduced myself in Lugwere and taught them the “Peel Banana” song/dance.  (You all wish you could have seen that!).  The P3 and P4 kids were placed together and I just said hi quickly and introduced myself.  (I’m really not sure how these teachers expect to guide and counsel such big groups of students…TIA).  Lastly, the P5, P6, and P7 students were grouped together, but the girls and boys were separated.  The teachers thought I could definitely start my first Life Skills lesson, even though it was tailored for 40 students, not 200.  Nevertheless, I tried, but it was pretty much a flop.  It started raining and we had to move inside a room meant for 50 people, not 200!  The room was LOUD and the rain smashing against the tin roof didn’t help matters.  I made the session quick and let the eager students go home.  Hopefully this week will prove to be more successful since I will have smaller classes like I planned! 

On Sunday, Ryan, Caroline, Max and I had a BBQ.  For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have it at Ryan’s.  So we sat on the floor and there were a lot of communal bowls and eating off of newspaper (which also served as toilet paper because Ryan doesn’t buy that anymore.  He says he prefers newspaper because then he has something to read and it’s cheaper).  My standards of hygiene are pretty low these days, so I didn’t really mind us all eating pasta salad out of one big pot.  I felt pretty sick after all the food: pasta salad, goat with BBQ sauce (sent in a package from Caroline’s awesome parents!), fried bean balls, and chocolate, peanut butter covered popcorn for dessert.  I wanted to puke after all the food (or maybe I picked up a parasite from Ryan’s house, who knows).  Either way, the food was delicious and we had a great time.  

The kids coloring

They LOVE when I bring out my camera

Communal bowl of pasta salad (notice the king of the castle gets the only chair...)

Kids were putting their hands in the windows because they wanted food...so Ryan gave them some through the window.  It was a funny to watch.  PC volunteers aren't normal...

One Year!

            I have officially been in Uganda for a year – I do not think I have ever gone this long without In and Out or Starbucks.  At the beginning, a two-year commitment seemed like a long time, but it is amazing how fast time has flown by.  I cannot imagine having to come home right now. 

            School has officially started and it is nice to get back to work.  Of course, it took about a week or so for school to get organized.  Kids slowly trickled in and the timetable took a while to set up.  While it is nice to be busy, I do miss my days of lounging around and reading.  Last week, my counterpart and I facilitated a three-day workshop on “Safe School Environment”.  The workshop was held at my Coordinating Center and it was for all the government schools in my district (20 schools).  Three teachers from each school attended, so there were a lot of participants.  The workshop focused on child abuse, corporal punishment, and how to create a safe learning environment for students.  Here were a few of my favorite moments from the workshop:

            In every Ugandan meeting or workshop, there needs to be a chairperson, spiritual leader, timekeeper, and a secretary.  (The timekeeper position always makes me laugh because I have yet to attend a Ugandan workshop that keeps time.)  The chairperson is in charge of keeping the participants in check and the spiritual leader is in charge of the prayers before and after the workshop and before meals.  The secretary is in charge of taking down the minutes and they literally have to write everything down.  My counterpart asked for a volunteer to be a secretary, and one of the male teachers said, “Ok, come on all female teachers.”  I snapped and said, “I don’t think so! You now have the position of being secretary.”  Thankfully, my counterpart laughed and backed me up in my decision. 

            Later in the day, we were discussing some of the causes of child abuse - such as, lack of education and cultural beliefs.  One of the teachers raised his hand and said, “Beauty.”  I was a little confused and I asked him to elaborate more (even though I was pretty sure I knew where this was going).  He replied, “Sometimes these girls are just so beautiful, and us teachers cannot help ourselves.”  I was horrified and I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head.  Even worse, there were some words of agreement amongst the teachers.  I responded, “As a teacher, you are required to abide by a code of conduct.  If you cannot practice self-control, then you have no business being a teacher.  A child can never be blamed for their abuse, even if she is beautiful or dresses indecently.  The blame always falls on the abuser.  It is because of comments like those that I am teaching girls life skills.”  A lot of the teachers clapped afterwards (especially the women).  Once again, my counterpart backed me up and said, “Yes, so maybe we could say a cause of child abuse is ‘lack of professionalism’.”  I guess I really am my mother’s daughter… 

            On the second day, a woman from the Ministry of Education came to observe the workshop (the ministry sponsored this workshop across the nation).  She gave a little speech about the importance of the workshop and then asked for questions.  For the next hour and a half, teachers raised their hands and said something along the lines of the following:

“Thank you, Madame.  We are just appreciating you coming.  We are all working hard, you see.  But you see, us teachers have this problem.  There has been little reimbursement for this workshop and we must travel long distances to get here.  Ah, and there is no support for when we take this back to our schools.  There must be support from the ministry so we can talk to the community and parents.  And you see, us teachers are not paid enough.” 

            While the teachers did have some valid complaints, they kept repeating each other and all their complaints would be accompanied by an anecdote.  My patience was wearing thin because it was past lunchtime and I was so hungry.  I could see and smell the overcooked, fatty meat and rice littered with tiny stones.  I jut wanted everyone to be quiet so we could go and eat.  (Uganda is no different than America: everyone loves to hear themselves talk before lunchtime).  Thankfully, my counterpart finally cut them off and said we should not take any more of the ministry’s time and we should go eat.  At lunch, my counterpart said he was so hungry and he almost didn’t survive the last session.  I said, “Ya, everyone was complaining.  I didn’t like it and I was so hungry!”  This leads me to my favorite part of the workshop: 

            On the last day of the workshop, we had time for questions/comments before lunch.  We started at 12:30, and people were still raising their hands at 2:00.  It was an hour past lunchtime and I was hungry and annoyed.  At 2:15, my counterpart finally says, “Alright ladies and gentleman, Aubrey doesn’t like to listen to us Africans complain.  Let us go take lunch.”  I could not stop laughing, but I have never been so happy with my counterpart.  I was so hungry; I was about to chew my arm off!

            This past weekend, a bunch of people from my group went to Jinja to celebrate our “one year anniversary.”  Of course, the weekend was pretty much devoted to eating too much food and a dance party complete with glow sticks.  The place where we stayed also had a rope swing that went into the Nile.  It was really fun, but on my last turn, I slipped, and now I have some lovely rope burn on my hands.  

            That’s pretty much all that has been going on with me!  This term I plan on teaching Life Skills at my Coordinating Center and at Namengo Girls.  I am also hoping to do a reading comprehension class once a week.  I am going to continue to help out teaching P6 and P7 math.  I have a lot of things to look forward to after this term too: Egypt in 3 months, my awesome cousin Jane comes in 4 months, and I get to see my bestest, prettiest friend in the whole wide world in 6 months in Rwanda! 

Toy Airplanes

            The Marsh Family has left Africa with no cuts, scrapes, amoebic dysentery, or run-ins with the law.  Brenda behaved herself and she actually made quite a few new friends; maybe it’s something about the air over here.  And you all were worried… (Okay, I was too!)

            After the Serengeti, we headed to Zanzibar for a much needed three-day beach vacation.  We were all happy to not have to set an alarm and drive in a car for three days.  The flight over to Zanzibar was interesting to say the least.  We flew out of the “air strip” in the Serengeti, which was just a long dirt road serving as a runway.   When the planes took off, we were all drowning in the dust that encircled us.  Also, I am not even sure these aircrafts can even be classified as planes.  They were tiny one-prop planes with twelve seats, which I am pretty sure they sell at Toys R’ Us.  We flew to Arusha first, which was about a 30 minute flight, and I was gripping my sister’s hand most of the way.  Surprisingly, my mom, who hates flying, was perfectly fine.  I, on the other hand, wanted to take her whole bottle of Xanax.  We flew from Arusha to Zanzibar in another toy plane, but this flight was two and a half hours.  I am not quite sure how this plane held enough fuel for two and a half hours, but some things are better left unknown.

            If anyone had more anxiety than me about this flight, then it was the pilot.  My dad sat next to him in the cockpit because the toy plane was full and it was considered a passenger seat.  The pilot was biting his nails and biting a portion of his wrist and sucking on it the whole flight.  At the same time, he was reading the emergency handbook – what to do if the fuel ran out, what to do in a rainstorm, etc.  I guess we should be happy that he was actually reading the handbook; better late than never!  I know what you’re all thinking, “Thank God it was Brett sitting next to the pilot, not Brenda or Robyn.”  Robyn was sitting behind the pilot and could see him biting his nails, which grossed her out, but she was unaware of the emergency handbook.  I’m pretty sure that could be an SNL skit – someone call up NBC. 

            Zanzibar was beautiful and relaxing.  We lounged on the beach and hardly anyone was there.  We basically had the beach to ourselves – white sand and the water was so warm, it was like a bath.  We also had really great seafood, which was nice for me because I can’t get that in Uganda.  I could have used another day or two at the beach, but unfortunately, we all set out for home after three days.  I was sad to say bye to my family, but I am so happy that I could see them and that they made the trip to visit me. 

            The flight back was uneventful, and I thankfully got a real sized plane.  Herbert, our driver while we were in Uganda, picked me up and drove me all the way home.  I was so happy to not have to deal with public transport and get home at a reasonable hour.  Herbert used my latrine before he headed back home – and he swept out all of the rat poop and critters!  He really is the best. 

            I thought that coming back to site after being pampered for two weeks would be hard, but it feels like I never left.  I do miss showers and toilets, but I am actually quite happy to be home.  School doesn’t start for another two weeks, so I am just hanging out and not doing much of anything.  I am starting to study for the GMAT (ew!) because I feel like I should have some sort of plan for when I enter the real world in a year.  My dad loves to constantly ask me what I plan on doing after I finish the Peace Corps even though he knows it’s a source of anxiety.  He seems to think, however, if he phrases the question differently each time, it’s okay. 

I went with Sauya to an orphanage outside of Jinja the other day.  Her friend, Godffrey, recently started the orphanage and she wanted to introduce me to him and show me around the school.  Also, she wanted me to consider donating some of the “Libraries for Life” books to the orphanage.  The school was very small and the classrooms were tiny – P1 and P2 are taught in the same room, which must get confusing/loud.  Godffrey took us to his house afterwards for a “simple” lunch, which was a small feast.  The amount of food he put on my plate could have fed a family of four.  I told Godffrey that I would donate a portion of the books to his school, but only if he built bookshelves in the next three months in order to prove he was committed to taking care of the books.  (Otherwise, I know the books would just sit in a box).  Godffrey’s neighbor came over after lunch, but she spoke no English.  She scrutinized me for a little and then turned to ask Godffrey why I was there.  He explained, and then she said something that made both Sauya and Godffrey laugh.  All I caught was “mzungu,” so I knew they were talking about me.  She kept talking and I could just catch bits and pieces – I was getting the idea she did not like mzungu.  Finally, Sauya translated for me and she said, “She told Godffrey that you better not be like the ‘other’ mzungu.”  Apparently, last year, other wazungu (plural for mzungu) came to the town and said they were going to sponsor the children to go to school.  The town fed them and gave them necklaces as gifts of thanks, but the wazungu never delivered.  Hence, wazungu kind of have a bad rep in the town of Nakirubi.  I really hope that Godffrey builds the bookshelves so that I can bring the wazungu back to Nakirubi’s good graces. 

Lastly, thank you to all those that donated to Libraries for Life – we reached our goal, and raised all of the money that we needed!  The books should be delivered in 3-6 months (I’m sure they will get stuck at customs).  I will be sure to keep you updated and let you know when the library is all set up.  Thank you, again! 

            Also, here are a few more photos from our trip:  

Leopard

Taking a snooze

Baby cheetah cubs

The awesome staff at Nomad Camp 

Toy Plane

Not the best quality photo, but you get the idea of how small the plane was!

The beach in Zanzibar

Getting thrown out of the boat is always fun - that's me with my legs up in the air!