Muli Mutya bassebo ne bannyabo?!
The beautiful country of Uganda has found me wandering its hills for near upon two weeks now, and trust me: it’s hilly. The earth is as red can be, but it is completely covered in green. The trees and grass are so beautiful, sometimes I catch myself marvelling at how such a gorgeous place is actually my home now. Monkeys roam around haphazardly, but livestock are the more frequent fauna. Everyone seems to own cows, goats, chickens, dogs and cats. I asked my host sister (she’s 11) about lions and giraffes and zebras and she said I can see them in the zoo. Damn.
Yeah, I moved into my homestay five days ago, and let’s just say that I’ll be relieved when my two months here are up. Before homestay, we spent 3 days at a wonderful training center in Lawesa, right outside of Kampala, the capital. We (and by we I mean the 15 girls and 14 boys that make up my training group; okay, some of the boys and girls are over 50 but you get the gist) bathed in luxury: running water; electricity about 80% of the time, hey it’s sporadic, keeps you on your toes; varied food; silly Peace Corps introduction activities; I taught yoga to the group every morning… All of that came to a screeching halt when we ventured to destination #2: Wakiso. We train at a resort-like place from 8-5 six days a week, so that’s delightful, but the hours I spend with my homestay are, well, adventurous. I live with a single grandmother. Three of her grandchildren, ages unknown but all under 11, and a housegirl (read: servant) live with her. None speak English very well, soap is a sparse commodity, the latrine is a pit outside, water is bought from a man carrying way too much of it in jugs on his bicycle, the shower is a bucket, and the cockroaches/spiders/lizards/giant millipedes are rampant.
The foods pretty decent though. Peace Corps forks over enough money per week to feed a small army of Ugandan children (Our Dumb World, eh Laurabelle?), so they feed me lots of fruit and veggies. Jackfruit is the most amazing thing in the world, I dream about it at night. But starches and protein pretty much inundate the majority of a Ugandan diet. At one meal we were served rice, potatoes, pasta, matoke and posha (two staple foods made from a starchy unripe semi-banana that tastes like potatoes and a polenta wannabe, respectively). Beans and peanut sauce are liberally heaped over all. Oh well, still delicious. But anyways, the volunteers swear that these families afford their TVs, DVD players and cars from the PC subsidization (aka food allowance).
Training’s been pretty idyllic. We chill in buildings that can pretty much be considered outdoor (birds fly over our heads), learning a whole slew of information about medical precautions, hygiene, the history of AIDS in Uganda, the economy, gender roles, yeah it feels like college. But then we’ll spend the next 4 hours learning how to build the best outdoor shower and how to barter with the locals. We’re taught by a sampling of current Peace Corps volunteers and Ugandans. We’ve already been divided into 6 language groups that basically shed light on our future site placement. I’m learning Luganda, the main language, and the one that is found closest to the capital. Good news for me, I won’t be in the middle of the bush, a six hour matatu (crazy rickety van-taxi with way too many people crammed in) ride from anything. Language is going swimmingly, the bikes we were given are hilariously inadequate at managing the hills, and things that took 20 minutes in America now take 2 hours, or 2 days in the case of my suitcase which was pad-locked with the keys inside, fml. No worries, it’s Uganda time, punctual is not in the vernacular.
I’ve debated whether I should filter this blogging endeavor but, hey, I oppose censorship. I seem to have acquired the title of unluckiest out of all 29 of my PCT group. I can be abased no further; nothing is sacred. Day 1 at homestay: after showering, I went to grab my towel from over the basin I placed in on in the bathing area, it was soaking wet. How can this be? Turns out, I so happened to set my towel in my family’s “night call” bucket (i.e., chamber pot). Piss towel was subsequently thrown in a ditch. Day 2: locked my keys in my suitcase, finding Ugandan help and tools takes 2 days of no clothes and no bathing to undo. Day 4: Don’t step on the tin roofing on the ground, it’s there to cover up something unsightly. In my case? Shit. Shin deep into sewage draining from the pit latrine. Thank heaven my friend Arwen was with me (she’s on her 3rd year of PC service, having spent the last 2 in Togo), she sanitized my body as I threatened tears. Day 5: eh, I won’t go there, but it was an issue with what they dubbed “long calls” here. On the bright side, everyone seems to think it can only get better from here on out. Ha, at least there’s always a volunteer willing to run with me and shake-your-head-bad Uganda soap operas to keep me sane.
I have a cell phone and get service everywhere, my number is 0785781340, I have no idea how to dial it, but I can text and calling through Skype is 15 cents a minute, and there are Ugandan calling cards online that charge 10 cents a minute I believe. I’m going to wait until after my 2 months of training are up to decide what I do about internet. I’m at an internet café right now that charges like 25 cents for half an hour of internet, but its hella slow (shout out to my homies in San Fran, Vicky). There are wireless cards available that work throughout the country and are fast but they’re pretty expensive. So my 2 year site resources will determine whether I invest or not. Until then, I don’t really have time to be online anyways: we train from 8-5 every day except Sunday, and we’re locked up in our homestays when it gets dark around 7 every night, zombies.
Also, you may notice that pictures are absent from this blog. Yeah, words of advice: buy a new camera should you leave home for 2+ years. Fingers crossed I can buy a decent one in Kampala when I go back in a couple weeks. Hopefully next Sunday will bear a second blog, thanks for reading folks. Eat some cereal and ice cream for me, you’re all uber missed. Peace, love and Uganda omusera (sunshine; I’m on the equator, duh)!
