Sure, why not?

Of course I haven't looked into the legitimacy of my blog-mates from around the globe, but...

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One of the coolest things I’ve done in country.

My alarm was set for 5am this morning, but I was already awake. Eager. But as I listened to the sound of the wind whistling through the banana plantations, which can only signify one thing: rain, and poked my head out my door for the briefest of seconds, enough to see the stars and moon still in full splendor, I reversed back inside. Less than a minute later, I hear a gingerly tap on my door, followed by one of my favorite laughs. “Okay, I’m coming, give me a second…” Sigh. Within the time it takes to boil a pot of coffee, Ronald, Dononzio and I were trotting along the main road, in a state of utter darkness through which you could hardly see three feet in front of your toes. But with only the light of the Southern Hemisphere’s constellations to guide us, and not a soul in sight, it was the most primordial I had ever felt. Now this was running!

Eventually, we were met along the way by the rising sun over the hills (that still confound me to this day), because what I assumed would be a 15-, 20-minute run, tops, charged on at a sprint for 7, 8 miles. With Ronald, at one point, boasting: “we can go on like this all the way to Kasese!”. Kasese being a large town about 50km away, on the opposite side of Queen Elizabeth National Park. And you know what? I swear, I think they could have. Guess I should have taken more than a swig from my water bottle before we set out. ..

So as I sit here, freshly showered (I always enjoy when my icy shower actually feels nice), breakfasting on oatmeal, my boys are already sitting in their first lecture of a 9-hour school day. And Ronald ran in dress shoes and dress pants; Dononzio in a, much more acceptable, pair of swim trunks. Damn Africans.

By the Numbers

A more thought-out synopsis to come, but my reasoning for this schizophrenic, chronologically-reversed format becomes apparent... right... now...

4 - the number of hours I slept last night.
3:30 am - the time myself, Charlene, Arwen, Elizabeth and Ashley got into Uganda on a flight from Istanbul, Turkey today Feb 3rd.
5 - the number of planes I've been on in the past 10 days.
5 - the number of currencies I've used in the past 10 days (Turkish Lira, Euros, Dollars, Egyptian Pounds and Ugandan Shillings).
4 - the number of Visas I've used in the past 4 days (Uganda, Turkey, Greece, Egypt).
1609 - the year construction began on the Sultanahmet Mosque in Istanbul. Friggin beautiful.
1000 - the number of shops selling Turkish Delight at the Grand Bazaar; or so it seemed.
178 euros - the amount it cost me to book a last minute ticket from Athens to Istanbul because Peace Corps glitched and forgot to book it for me.
2 - the nights spent at the stupendous Sofitel hotel in Athens, after getting randomly evacuated there by the U.S. Embassy in Cairo.
10 - the pounds of food we must have eaten at the free breakfast each morning. Think Greek yogurt, lychees (finally Jacob), strawberries, pears, figs, dates, plums, granola, lox, pastries, rice pudding, mimosas, fresh bread, hazelnut and carob honey, smoothies, scrambled eggs, sauteed vegetables, and green tea.
40 - degrees it must have been in Athens as we wandered around the Temple of Zeus, the Acropolis, the Ampitheatre, and the baclava shops (equally as important, obviously) all in Saharan Desert-weather clothing.
3 - the bottles of Greek wine we drank while lying by the rooftop pool that night in Athens.
1,800 - the cost of our hotel rooms, in dollars, for 2 nights, totally covered by the U.S. government. Thanks tax payers!
11:00 pm - the time on Tuesday 02/01 that we finally arrived in Greece from Egypt, to be greeted with open arms by the U.S. Embassy in Greece (as opposed to the non-present U.S. Embassy in Egypt), with fresh sandwiches, water, shampoo, toothpaste and free phone calls.
9 – the hours we spent waiting with 5,000 other Americans to get out of Cairo, as per the U.S. Embassy’s evacuation procedure and exempting the 10s of 1000s of other world citizens awaiting similar bout of luck.
3rd – the flight we got out on, thanks to being considered a diplomat because of our Peace Corps status. Innumerable flights after that, I can imagine…
3 – the number of places the U.S. was evacuating to: Athens, Cyprus and Istanbul. Not too shabby.
10 – British Embassy workers we saw pre-Tuesday, helping Brits evacuate.
0 – U.S. Embassy workers we saw pre-Tuesday, helping Americans evacuate.
50 – the communication attempts, I’d say, with families, Peace Corps Uganda, Peace Corps Washington, the U.S. Embassy, the State Department, Ethiopian Air, Egypt Air, Kenya Air, whoever, that failed during those 3 days. Maybe 5 went through.
45 - the hours we spent stuck at the Cairo airport, hoping desperately for an escape.
517 – pages I read during those hours, when all else there was to do was sleep on the cold floor or avoid random anxious outbursts from 5,000 other stranded travelers.
15 – the number of M & Ms I ate for dinner Monday night, after the airport ran out of all things edible and drinkable. We hope the tap water was safe, it did smell faintly of chlorine…
12:00 am – the time Sunday night (okay Monday morning) we first realized our original flight out of Cairo was cancelled. It was a 2:35 am flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
5/14 - the number of Peace Corps Volunteers remaining in Egypt after Sunday, Jan 31st (That would be the 5 of us from Uganda, or as we’ve been dubbed by PCVs in Uganda: The Egyptian Liberation Front’s Fab Five).
9 – the number of hours we spent on a bus from Dahab on the Sinai Peninsula to Cairo on Sunday, still hoping to make our flight.
2 – the number of hours we spend driving around the roadblocks (read: vigilante groups of Egyptian boys and men protecting their neighborhoods from looters and thugs by any means possible; read: whips, chains, 2x4s, bats, torches, meat cleavers, guns, molitov cocktails, bricks, knives, sabers, blow torches, seriously we saw it all) looking for a safe place to dock the bus.
30 – the number of said roadblocks we must have passed through during the attempt, and on the way to the airport, with bated breathe and jagged heartbeats at each.
7 – the number of Egyptians who took it upon themselves to ensure our safe passage to the airport, despite the personal risk involved (note: this riot was in no way about foreigners).
6 –days of true vacation we actually managed to get in. Amazing. More to come on the wonders of Egypt later.
6 – and finally, days over my scheduled vacation that I was away from Uganda.