Nothing says easter like 5am chicken beheadings!

I’m not going to lie, and I might be beating this point to death, but I feel really fortunate to have been placed in Uganda by Peace Corps. The dichotomy between lifestyles and the sheer number of options with which to keep oneself busy are enough to make any vagrant content. It also enables me to fill my occasional yearning for Western life. So yes, I am sitting at the pool right now with my friend Boy Devon (there happens to be a Girl Devon in our training group too; crazy odds, I know), while he reads and I blog and “The Hills” blares on a nearby TV, I kid you not. But I love the idea of a retreat because daily life here is definitely hard. Water and food are in short supply, it takes time and physical energy to get to anywhere, and constant demands for money and visas to America wear thin on your patience very quickly. Plus, I’m pretty confident that jumping into the pool serves the purpose of getting me the cleanest I’ve been in weeks. Turns out the “sandal tan” I thought I had was actually just dirt staining my feet…
So Tuesday and Wednesday were big days for me. Wednesday I presented my qualifying project, the summation of my training experience as a Community Health and Economic Development trainee. The topic: sanitation in the workplace. Super boring, I know, but never having a place to wash my hands before eating in town acted as a powerful motivator. I won’t bore you with details, but I did well and am happy it’s over. More likely than not, I won’t do much with this gem of a project over the next 2 years. Which leads me to what happened on Tuesday: I learned the site that I’m being placed at for those 2 years!!! I didn’t receive too much information, but I’ll be working with an NGO called the Center for Indigenous Development Efforts (CIDE). It’s an organization still in its infancy, but its founder, a Catholic Priest, is an old hand when it comes to NGO development. He’s been really successful all over Uganda and internationally, actually, but this is his pet project for his golden years, as its in his home town of Kakindu (Kah-chin-due). Kikandu is a small town in the district of Mityana, only about an hour away from Kampala. I’ll actually be the second closest trainee to the city, so I’m stoked about that.
I feel like a kid anxiously awaiting Christmas right now: The 14th is my 23rd birthday (don’t do the math; I will not be 25 years old when I come home…), my final Language Proficiency Examination is the 16th, I leave my homestay for good on the 18th, I swear in as a full-fledged Peace Corps Volunteer the 21st and I leave for Kakindu the 22nd. This all may look like it’s happening very fast and that I’m going to be inundated with work shortly, but I assure you that that is not the case. In fact, we’re technically discouraged from doing any sort of “work” for the first three months at site. This is to be my time to integrate into the community and observe CIDE. Most volunteers describe this time as boasting the single-most amount of free time they’ve ever encountered in their lives. I cannot wait! Along with reading and running an inordinate amount, I plan on doing yoga, starting a garden, painting, learning to dry fruit and make soymilk, learning origami and setting up an actual home. But I’ll have many more hours to satisfy and would be extremely grateful for suggestions!? Does anyone happen to know off-hand how to build a piano?
Learning my site has certainly come at a good time: suddenly, it seems, I looked around and roots had been extended into my PC/Uganda life. Next Sunday, leaving my host family, will be a gloomy day. The kids took a few weeks to get a handle on what exactly I was, but now they provide me with the best parts of my day. Latifa (age 11) is in her shy and awkward pre-teen years. She slips me notes with drawings and a frequent “Renee, you are my best friend because you are beautiful” written on the front. She fantastic at popping out of nowhere whenever I attempt to begin washing my clothes, cleaning my bike or carrying something heavy and before I can even explain that I’m determined to flub my way through the chore, she has finished it for me. Galabuzi (age 8), on the other hand, is more of a nuisance. He’s an imp of a boy, wanting to touch everything I own with clumsy hands. Luckily that extends to bestowing upon me giant bear hugs whenever I enter a room. I leave my bike helmet on as a necessary precaution when I return home from being gone for anytime longer than a 24-hour period. Chimina (age 4; no one seems to know how to spell her name, though?), is my favorite, I’ll admit. She tails me like a shadow, peppering me with so many “ogenda kukola ki kati?”s (“what are you going to do now?) that I cannot possibly answer them all. She mimics everything I say. I tried to channel this into something amusing, but I only got as far as the following dialogue: Renee – “what’s up?” Chimina – “what’s up?” Renee – “no, you’re supposed to say ‘nothing!’” Chimina – “nothing!” Renee – “Nice, okay, what’s up?” Chimina – “what’s up?”. Ah well, it still slays me every time. I’m definitely going to miss these kids come the end of next week…
It took a while, but Wakiso became a comfort to me as well. I have “my” grocery store, “my” restaurant, “my” internet café, “my” pineapple dealer… even the families and kids on “my” street welcome me back and shout “bye Renee!” whenever I pass, even though I’ve never even introduced myself to them. Well, it more sounds like Reenay, but that’s beside the point; they know me here! It’ll be a bummer to leave.
Peace Corps has also started to morph into a long-term commitment. Before, I could only envision myself in training; my life out on my own was unfathomable. Luckily I’ve stumbled upon a few things to propel me into the great unknown. For one thing, I have an unhealthy love of the language. Conjugating verbs has become one of my favorite pastimes. I actually think in Lugandan. My knack for it directly links me with future happiness, success, safety and integration. Serious stuff. But really the funniest part about being, dare I say it, a prodigy (totally kidding, I told my housegirl this morning that I wanted to help her bathe herself on accident) is that I will be making a speech wholly in Luganda next weekend at our big end-of-training/homestay-thank-you party. Coming to a youtube channel near you: “Renee Speaks Luganda, Ugandans Don’t Understand.” My second Peace Corps leadership venture likewise caught me unawares. You are currently reading the blog of the February 2010 Peace Corps Uganda training group Volunteer Advisory Committee representative. I liken it to student council. It went down as such: in a span of maybe 30 minutes (which is unheard of for accomplishing anything in in Uganda), two of the six other members of VAC came; asked for nominations; 8 or so of my fellow trainees were nominated, myself included; speeches were made (I distinctly remember mine including the opening remarks: “I’m not sure whether I would be good at this kind of thing, as I’m quite impatient…); votes were taken; myself and a kid called Jake were elected. So now I’m representing my entire training group at all-staff meetings every three months? At least there’s a bonus: I get an all-expenses-paid weekend trip into Kampala each time!