Zachary’s Ugandan Adventure Part 2
Damn. It must have been a least a lifetime or two since I last wrote! And I miss each and everyone of you about a hundred times more than when I last wrote! Except for the America/friend/family sickness that set in pretty heavily about a week and a half ago, I’ve had a pretty damn awesome time! My host family just gets cooler and cooler, work is ironing out and I’ve started my project, and I’ve gotten to do a fair amount of traveling. Maybe to keep this email to a bearable length, I will try to just tell you an anecdote or two about each.
Family!: I’m starting to become more of a family member and less of an honored guest with my family, and it’s incredibly relieving. I eat dinner with my family out in the kitchen. (The house is actually a set of four buildings that surround a dirt courtyard). My little sisters Anesha and Shela run and hug my legs when I get home from work, and my 1 and a half year old little brother isn’t afraid of me any more! My mom has taken to calling me ” my handsome son” in Luganda and my host dad has warmed up to me a lot.
My favorite times though are when Al hajj (my host dad) goes to Kampala for work. He’s muslim so the rest of the family has to abide by his rules, but oh man! When the cat’s away the mice play. The first time he left for work last week, my cousins Ddo and Ddo (Richard and Ronald) grabbed me and we ran out to the closest grill to buy a huge steaming plate full of pork. Sneaking handfulls of pork on the way back home, we stopped off and bought a bunch of Nile Specials (the beer of choice here) and traipsed giddily home. That night we had a powwow on the floor of my room. Ddo, ddo, my host mom and I gorged ourselves on decadent amounts of pork and kicked back beer after beer, all the while laughing with the guilty glee of children who know they’re getting away with something. The whole time, Ddo (Richard) was telling me about Africans and their peculiarities, a habit he falls into whenever he’s had a bit of alcohol. It always begins with “Africans, they are funny guys. I tell you!”.
Well, I guess Africans (or at least Ugandans) really are funny guys. I can’t help but laugh sometimes! Boda (motorcycle taxi) drivers usually turn off their engines when they’re going down hill, and they often don’t turn on their lights at night. Liquor here comes in bags. 95% of everyone’s diet is starch (matooke, yams, another type of yams, sweet potatoes, posho, cassava etc…). They call these items “food”. Beef isn’t food. At a restaurant you can order food (a plate full of starch) and beef or beens or goat etc for 1500 USh (75 cents). In typical conversations, about half of people’s sentences are punctuated with a rhetorical question right in the middle. E.g. “I am going where? Kampala”. I haven’t figured out if I’m supposed to answer yet. People with absolutely no money are dressed much nicer than I ever dress, everyone loves the poorly dubbed Mexican soap opera Second Chance, and old men have Faith Hill ringtones in Kampala. I could go on!
Work is about equally funny. My boss, Buwembo, is entirely useless. He is typically about three of four hours late for every appointment we make, and has yet to give me an assignment. No matters, I’ve been working closely with my project supervisor Norah to develop my project and I don’t really need Buwembo for that. Last week I turned in my project workplan and budget and got my seed grant! 400,000 USh baby! I’m working on a integrated sustainable agriculture project with one community group near Ssaza. Our fist training was last week, but no one showed up because there was a burial in the village. Dicouraging, but not all that surprising. I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m also going to work with a partner of our organization, Mulindwa Matia, to help build a vocational school for graduates of a primary school for deaf students in the area. I’m probably going to do fundraising for that project, but I’ll send along more details soon!
Traveling! Last weekend I had the best weekend I’ve had in Uganda to date! I took off work on Friday and decided to travel to Sipi Falls in the northeast corner of the state. I had met some folks in Kampala the weekend before and they told me they were headed there. I couldn’t find anyone to go with me, but I didn’t really mind because I’ve decided that I really don’t like the group that is here in Masaka with me. I supposes I like them individually, just not as a group. They make me feel so much lonelier than when I’m by myself. Anyways! I already complained to Bilal about that!
My epic journey began on Friday at 8:30 or so in the morning. I was delayed a little because as I was leaving, I found my one and a half year old brother Doctor locked outside of the gate and climbing onto a boda. Despite the slight delay, I managed to find a nearly full bus headed towards Kampala and we were off. Just as we started I got a drunk dial from Will, David, and Gleb and I turned many Ugandan’s heads as I tried to yell to be heard. It was the least eventful leg of the journey. The bus had no shocks so I had to keep my teeth clenched to keep from biting my tongue on the pothole ridden road, luggage kept falling on our heads, and the bus broke down once. Three hours later, we arrived in Kampala and I scoured the Taxi park for a bus bound for Mbale (2 hours south of Sipi). I only found a Mutatu (minibus) and here the journey got hairy.
The first Mutatu got run off the road by a semi truck, and got stopped in a several hour traffic jam. Then they stopped and put me on another mutatu which was fine except the seat I was on wasn’t bolted down. Then they put me on another mutatu which had a bunch of chickens. (Africans are funny guys!) I lucked out and got the front seat, where I realized that nothing on the dashboard worked! No speedometer, no odometer, no gas guage, no radio. Only the low oil light worked! Then they drove me into a village, dragged me out, gave me the rest of the money and told me to find my own way! I hitchhiked for a while and ended up on a giant bus that stopped every 5 minutes so that people could get out to pee on the side of the road! What an adventure! When I arrived in Mbale it was 8:30 and pitch dark. I looked for a cool sounding hostel that was mentioned in my guidebook to no avail. Turned out it had burnt down the year before. I ended up staying in a skeezy hotel in Mbale and leaving for Sipi the next morning.
The next day was pure bliss! I found my friends just as they were about to head out for a five hour guided tour of the three giant falls that cut through the mountains in the area. It was one of the most incredibly breathtaking hikes I’ve done! The valleys and mountains were the most brilliant shimmering shade of green! They rolled down into african savannah that seemed to go on for an eternity. We hiked through caves where people lived 1500 years ago, climbed to waterfalls that they used as showers and on! On to the topmost waterfall! Two hundred and 40 feet of unimaginable beauty and power. I couldn’t help it! I crept up to the awesome base of the falls, already drenched by the spray shattering off the rocks and started stripping. Hahaha! Skinny dipping under a 240 waterfall in Africa! Take that Allie! One of my friends had climbed to a nearby cliff and took a picture! 100 feet down, my white posterior was still visibly glowing!
But that wasn’t even the best part! At the last and biggest waterfall they offer absailing (repelling). Four of my friends and I psyched eachother into doing it. I was so scarred I couldn’t even scream. 330 or so feet of utterly terrified ecstacy! Oh sweet jesus! It was among the most beautiful things I’ve seen. I’m pretty sure I could see all of Uganda from there. And the wind was blowing the water spray from the nearby waterfall towards me so I ended up repelling straight into a rainbow.
That night one of the hotel workers took us to a local club where we all got super crunk listening to hours and hours of reggaeton. The milky way cut a shimmering cloak across the sky and reggaeton drifted through my dreams all night. I met so many cool folks and now have invitations to crash at folks’ places all over Europe.
The way back was excting. I called my dad to wish him happy father’s day. He asked me if I was safe. At that point I was in a mutatu hurtling at 110 kph on the wrong side of the pothole ridden pitch black road, passing boda drivers who had no lights on, and weaving to avoid the semi truck that was cresting the hill. Of course I answered yes!
Anyways, as expected, I talked too much. So much to say though. I can’t wait when we can swap stories in person. Send me emails back! I’d love to know how everyone is!
Smooches and cranberry-apple pie,
Zachary