The sun rises at around 6:15 am everyday for just about the entire year. It reaches around 80 degrees by about 9 am. Come about 11 am the heat is in full effect and my mental capacity is substantially hindered. I reserve all heavy mental tasks a start time of 8 am with a full stop at around midday at the latest. The rest of the day I can spend doing productive though not so mentally demanding tasks.
This warm weather has not prepared me adequately for the journey I’m about to make across the ocean to NYC in one week’s time. I’ve told my family to bring me lots of warm clothes. I don’t really have a huge need for those here.
I’m excited for New York. I’m excited to see my family and indulge in all of the offerings of one of the greatest cities in the world. But I fear the cold. Maybe I can bring some Ugandan sunshine with me … somehow.
The third and final school term for the year has ended. It ended two weeks ago. I finished marking 200+ exams, returning results to students, and entering final marks in report cards about a week ago. It was an exhausting process, but one that is important nonetheless. Exhausting for one reason because the marks have to be entered in manually by hand onto a double paged report card with a carbon paper insert that has to be slotted in and removed after every entry. Oh Uganda!
It has been a relaxing week of spending time with my fellow PCVs and enjoying good food over the long Thanksgiving weekend. By the way, Happy belated Thanksgiving to all of you. This was definitely my warmest Thanksgiving on record. We had a great time eating good food and enjoying good company at a volunteer’s site in Kisubi.
It was a special experience to be able to share a small, small portion of our American culture with Ugandans. We ate turkey together and talked about the holiday of Thanksgiving and what it meant to us and the craziness that happens in America during those few days. They all seemed really interested to hear about it.
Earlier last week, while at site, I was invited by a friend to go see a biogas digester that was being installed at one of his neighbor’s homes. A biogas digester is a chamber that takes some sort of raw input, usually cow manure, and processes it into fuel used for cooking and lighting the home. It’s a really cool concept.
Anyways, I went for a walk with my friend deep into the village and met this family that was making this installation. It was a really cool experience. I talked with the family for a long time about all kinds of issues. They served me way too many sweet potatoes and lots of milk tea, both of which I really enjoy.
After receiving a tour of the digester, I was escorted once again deeper into the village and wandered onto about five other compounds. Where I was introduced to about five other families, all of whom were incredibly happy and excited to see me. These experiences bring a great sense of warmth and belonging to me.
We then managed to wander back to the original compound with the digester. The family then offered me one of their hens and some fresh milk to carry home with me. I was not expecting such an offer, but ended up carrying this chicken back indeed. It is pretty much considered an insult not to accept something that is offered to you here in Uganda. So you always accept.
But before we went home, I of course had to go back with my original friend and drink some more tea and some more food. Even after being completely stuffed from our earlier meeting, I tried to partake in as much as I could. I arrived home to have an amazingly delicious dinner waiting for me prepared by my house girl. I somehow managed to eat that later on in the evening. I have to say that there are some amazingly delicious dishes here and Ugandans really know how to cook with what little they have.
Recently a friend and I were getting on a taxi and the conductor shortchanged us on the taxi fare. We pleaded our case with him and told him not to charge us mzungu price and that what he was doing was wrong, since he was basically charging us more money because we were white.
He refused to give us our full change back and we just had to sit there and take it in stride. There really isn’t much we can do and even if there was we don’t have the patience or interest in wasting time doing it. Right after he refused to give us the regular price, some Ugandans seated behind us in the taxi started talking about the man and criticizing what he was doing.
A few minutes later, he gave us our full change. It was out of the ordinary to see someone choose to do the right thing after feeling so strongly that he needed to rip us off. Even if he did it as a result solely from the peer pressure of his fellow citizens criticizing him, it was still really interesting to experience.
I like looking at people during the bumpy matatu rides that too often fill my days here. During this one ride I glanced out at another conductor who was staring right at me. We locked eyes on each other and didn’t break contact for a few seconds. He had a pretty stoic look on his face. I wanted to see if his expression was ever going to change. It didn’t. Finally, I gave him a smile. He smiled back at me, his face lit up and he waved.
Sometimes I feel like some people have so much happiness inside of them but are somehow fearful to show it. Maybe that is a Ugandan thing. A product of the culture they were brought up in. Maybe I’m just rambling on about nothing. But it feels good to be a part of helping to release some of that happiness contained within some of the Ugandan people I have come to meet and adore.
