Posts (page 2)

And so begins my first real vacation in Uganda…ever.  My first trip to Uganda was with United Students for Fair Trade, and while I did have a couple of “free days” in Jinja, it wasn’t an actual vacation.  My second trip here was with Global Youth Partnership for Africa, and no free days.  I have been living here for 11 months now and have only been in Kampala and Gulu.  Gulu is always for work, so not a avacation.  I did go to Rwanda but that was with school and we had free time only while sleeping.  And really, my vacation hasn’t technically begun…it’s just the night before I depart for Ssese Island.  I have, however, put the modem away and have shut down my computer and picked up the good old pen and paper.  In fact, today I bought some new pens just for this occasion (I have a small pen obsession—well, that goes for all office supplies really).  I haven’t had a chance to sit down and write in a while, so I will attempt to get my journal/blog more up-to-date now.

I cannot remember the last things I wrote on (and my computer is off limits until Saturday), so we will just go over my rather eventful week and weekend. 

Las week I was sick so most of the week was fairly uneventful, aside from some One Mango Tree stuff which I had to do.  Wednesday Lucy came to Kampala to bring our latest order.  Her bus broke down outside of Kawempe so she didn’t reach Kampala until 10:30pm.  I decided to calls Isma, a special driver (car taxi) in Nakulabye to take me to Old Kampala to meet her.  I was too weak to take a boda, I didn’t feel entirely safe being on a boda in Old Kampala that late and I was sure that the public taxis wouldn’t be running that late and Lucy would need a safe ride to her sister’s house in Bombo, which was a ways away. 

I called Isma and he came to Kasubi to pick me and the wonderful fabrics which I purchased on Monday for the next order.  We drove to Arua Park (a bus park I am not familiar with) and after lots of driving around and multiple phone calls, we finally found Lucy.  I gave her a big hug and she called her sister to make sure it wasn’t too late to come to her home.  We loaded the order bags in the car and I introduced Lucy to Isma and told her that he would drop me at home and then take her to Bombo.  We had a nice chat in the car and Isma carried the bags to my flat while I gave Lucy some money for part of the order to tide her over until I could deposit money into her account the next day.

Thursday Lucy called me to see if I was feeling better and to thank me again for getting her a special hire to her sister’s house.  I truly love her so much!

Thursday was a busy day.  I met the husband of a woman who works at the US Embassy and sold him a bag, then went to Old Kampala to buy a big suitcase (my big one broke on the way back here after Christmas) and came home and somehow managed to fit the entire order in this suitcase!  There was a lot of sweat and cursing involved, but I managed!

Friday morning I loaded my hugenormous suitcase on Francis’ boda, I hopped on another and we headed to Emin Pasha Hotel to meet my friend Kevin, our most recent mule to the US.

Friday I was finally feeling better so was much more productive, but still a bit tired.  There was no time for tired for I had a going away party to at least make an appearance at.  My appearance lasted until 5:30am and involved WAY too much tequila and salsa dancing and resulted in yet another day spent in bed, but this time the pain was self-inflicted.

I finally willed myself out of bed, into the shower and out of the house around 7pm because I had to meet some friends of my friend Roxanne who were visiting.  It was difficult getting out but I’m so, so glad I did because they were AWESOME!  Dani just finished her two-year Peace Corps contract in Botswana and Chandni is half way trhough hers.  They were so much fun.  We went and had a quiet night at Iguana Bar (next to La Fontaine) and my friends Franklyn and Peter met up with us.  I was home by midnight.

Sunday I brought a group of seven together at La Fontaine for brunch.  La Fontaine makes an AMAZING Sunday brunch and since they’ve been stumbling upon some hart times lately I’ve been trying to bring in some extra business.  Sarah out did herself making us TONS of extra food.  We couldn’t finish it all!  She made French toast, Scottish pancakes, has browns (the crispiest EVER), scrambled eggs, fresh fruit with yogurt and honey , fresh passion juice and coffee…YUM!

After brunch I went home, did some work, took a nap and then went to the German Embassy with Daniel, Meredith, Shaina and Franklyn to watch Germany v. Spain in the Eurocup final.

The German Ambassador was such a gracious host (and has Martin Scorsese eyebrows)!  They had mass quantities of German sausages with bread and condiments, free beer, soda and water and lots of lawn chairs set up in front of a huge projection screen, complete with a massive sound system.  The ambassador addressed the crown just before kickoff, acknowledging the Spaniards in the crowd as well as pointing out that the embassy had hung both countries’ flags.  Very diplomatic. The ambassador said, “may the best team win”.  Spain won.  Daniel was quite upset (he’s from Germany and the biggest football fan I’ve ever encountered).

Monday I had a meeting with Kizito on campus about NIAAD stuff.  It turns out that he sold four paintings as a result of the exhibition which I organized!  Total sales came to 2,300,000UGX (approximately $1,427USD)!!  Kizito is working on adjusting the budget in order to see what we still need to raise for the academy so I can update the website, and make it more specific.

After my meeting with Kizito I went to the post office and found that I had another package from Adrienne!  It was stuffed full of burnt DVDs!  I go the first three seasons of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and several episodes of Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations”, an amazing show on the travel channel.  I’m saving them all, or trying to at least, for Gulu.

I returned home and did some work and then went out to meet some friends!  I had plans for dinner with Chandni and Taren at Masala Chaat House (delicious Indian goodness) and then we went to the National Theatre to see this interpretive dance piece about child soldiers featuring a dance group from Burundi.  What can I say?  It was interpretive dance.  I can’t get into it!  What I don’t understand is there are common moves in all interpretive dance pieces (at least that I’ve seen) which to me takes a lot of the interpretiveness out of it.  I also feel that interpretive dance ought to be impromptu, but it’s all choreographed?  Hmmmm…

After the moving dance performance we met up with Franklyn and stuck around for some of open mic night at the theatre.  I had never gone and didn’t realize what a HUGE deal it is!  Open mic night at the Bottleneck in Lawrence is generally a flop so I associate the phrase “open mic night” with that.  Now, this is not to say that the musicians here were great (some were, some weren’t) but there were so many people!

And not to Tuesday!  Tuesday I had a couple of meetings and ran some errands and then went to the invitation only Kampala premier of the documentary “War/Dance”.  The film is about an IDP camp primary school in Pader district in northern Uganda who has made it to the national music and dance championships in Kampala.  The film does an amazing job of capturing the personal stories of a few of the child musicians while showing the students practicing, traveling to and performing in Kampala.  This is hands down the best film I’ve seen about Uganda in general as well as one of the best documentaries I’ve seen in a very long time.  It made me start to cry several times, both out of happiness and sadness.  It truly was amazing!  For those of you in the States you can buy a copy at Best Buy and I seriously recommend it.  You will see footage of IDP camps similar to those in which I work as well as footage of Kampala and Entebbe.  I’ve been to most of the places on the film!

Last night I started writing this entry but the power went out (the water has been out for days) so I stopped.  I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep and I heard this chirping sound.  I thought to myself, “that’s a really loud cricket”.  Then as I continued to listen I realized that there was no way that was a cricket. I slipped on my headlamp and opened my bedroom door to my cavernous apartment to find the cats playing with a fruit bat.  Last week it was a rat.  It’s a good thing my mom is a biologist otherwise I don’t know if I would be able to calmly handle such things.  It reminded me of nine years ago when my friend Sara called me at two o’clock in the morning to come to her house to catch a bat that was flying around.  Perhaps I should seek a career in pest control?

Now I’m on a big boat in Lake Victoria headed for Ssese Islands.  Daniel, Meredith and I are going today and some others are meeting us tomorrow.  We left town early to meet the fairly which Daniel (he’s the only one of us who has been to Ssese before) said left at noon (there’s only one fair per day).  Turns out it leaves at 2pm so…we spent 2 ½ hours on the shore with absolutely nothing to do, and now we’re 1/3 finished with a three hour boat ride to Kalangala.

The boat itself isn’t too bad.  The front part of the boat has a large, covered compartment with tables and benches and a small cabin with refreshments.  There are no seats outside, unfortunately but we managed to get them to agree to let us go up to the top deck for a little while.  It’s difficult to believe how huge this lake really is!  Within an hour of launching you could barely make out land masses in the distance.  It’s truly beautiful.  I cannot wait to get to the island!

I’m sitting at Café Pap (formerly written about as Café Pelvic and Café Turn-Your-Head-and-Cough) in the city.  I don’t really like this place too much, but I had to go to a couple of places in town and decided to bring my computer here for my bedroom has been doubling as an office far too much lately.  It seems, however, that I need to stop leaving my home since the exchange rate is now 1568 shillings to the dollar (down 56 shillings in the last month, and down 74 the month before…ugh!).  It was 2000 to the dollar on my first visit two years ago.

My primary reason for coming into town was to go to the post office (some of you should be expecting things in, um….5 years).  Daniel (my German roommate) gave me his PO Box key so I could check his mail too.  Kampala has seemed smaller and smaller lately.  I walked into the post office and saw the guy who I interviewed with for the Educate! Africa job (which I didn’t get).  I was talking with him for some time and two other Americans walked up and he introduced me.  The asked what I was doing here so I told them about my MA program and about OMT. I didn’t actually say One Mango Tree, but just talked about a fair trade business with women tailors in Gulu, and the girl said, “It’ not One Mango Tree is it?”  We both freaked out and she told me that she had attended this summit at Northwestern and bought a bunch of stuff to give to friends (Julie—the woman who applied for the grant—had gone and presented OMT as a case study in one of the workshops at this conference).  So that was really exciting!  After chatting I went to buy stamps and mail some things and then check my PO Box and Daniel’s.  Daniel got one letter and I got four!  The downside to my four letters was that they were all to four different Ugandans that I do not know.  If you all need a reminder, my mailing address is: PO Box 34008—Kampala, Uganda. =) 

Following the post office I started walking down Kampala Road to Wina Classics to get my keys to my house fixed.  This was the 8^th time I have gone back to this place because they keys I had them make would not fit in the door, therefore, would not unlock the door.  Every time they say “we’ll keep our fingers crossed!” and this time I said, “next time you’re paying my transport!”.  They knew I was (mostly) joking.  I leave Wina Classics and am about to cross the street to head to Café Pap and my shoe breaks.  This is the second time I’ve worn these shoes, and it broke and left me standing in the middle of the road, almost getting hit by a matatu, wondering what to do.  This security guard came up to me and told me that right around the corner there was a guy sitting the alley fixing shoes.  Five minutes and 1,000 shillings later, my shoe was good to go!  Fred was my hero’s name.  We had a nice chat and I got mad respect from him for living in Kasubi.  He asked, “are you the only mzungu in Kasubi?” I said, “no, there are two of us, me and my housemate”.  He LOVED this.  I told Fred that I was so happy that he was there and next time my shoes brake I know where to go.

Now I’m at Café Pap, my internet is painfully slow so I thought I’d give you all an update of my life in Kampala.  I promised to update more frequently, and I have been, but they seem to be just as long as before! 

This week has been good!  On Monday I finally conquered my fears and went to Owino market (the largest market in Kampala) with my friend Diana.  I have been so intimidated by this place because it’s huge and full of people and I just didn’t want to deal with it.  Truth be told, it wasn’t that bad!  The best part is that I got TONS of clothes and shoes (yes, one is the pair that broke today) for nothing!  My New Year’s Resolution was to stop wearing so much black, and to stop being so monochromatic.  I have been a failure up until this point, but let me tell you , when I decide to step out, I step out all the way.  I got some sweet new threads, including this absolutely amazing fruit dress.  It has watermelon slices, cherries, grapes, oranges, etc. and it’s super cute with this big, black, fake alligator belt I got.  Most of the stuff I found was straight out of the 70’s and the vintage shops in Lawrence are going to be sooooooo jealous when I come back to town (which is December 5 for all who were wondering)!  I also got this phenomenal sequin dress!  I have no clue if I’ll ever wear it, for it is floor length and sequined from top to bottom, but it’s amazing.  Maybe it can be my over-the-top New Year’s dress!  Hmmmmm.  It took me 10 months (oh my God!  10 months!) to conquer my Owino fear, and now, dear friends, I am an addict. I’m going back tomorrow to find a white slip because two of my new dresses (June Cleaver style all the way) are too transparent for comfort and I’m swimming in the slips I brought from home! 

Tuesday I got an email about a free movie playing at the main theater here, but on by the Uganda German Cultural Society.  It was called “Urban Guerillas” and was about a graffiti artist and a break dancer and love, so I thought I’d pull the German along (for obvious reasons) and my friend Diana who is dating my friend Abramz who started the NGO, Breakdance Project Uganda.  The movie was awful.  At first they didn’t have the subtitles on so Diana and I were lost, and then we got the subtitles turned on, but in French (so still, Daniel was the only one who understood—he’s fluent in German and French—except for the French word for mountain which Adrienne had to help him with via gchat).  Finally we got English subtitles which didn’t really matter because the movie was still crap. 

Yesterday I had a meeting with Kizito about funding, etc. for the art academy.  Things are going well and we may be getting some significant funding this week!  We’re also selling more paintings today!  There were some people that came to the exhibition who wanted to buy but needed to think it over first (the paintings are not cheap), and they will be coming tonight to make their purchase!  Kizito has commissioned the building of bookshelves and chairs for the library with the funds received so far.  Next week I should have an updated budget and will be working on updating the website, complete with a paypal function for those interested in donating!

After our meeting, I was waiting outside the Makerere Guest House for Francis and I ran in to an American who had just arrived.  He asked where I was from and I told him Kansas.  He looked at me and said, “I know this might be far-fetched, but you wouldn’t be from Lawrence would you?”  I started laughing.  He knows a lot of people in Lawrence, or from Lawrence because he lives in Brooklyn and plays in a band with a former Lawrencian.  It is truly a small world.  We didn’t have time to talk about all of the Kansas people we know, but I’m sure it’s a lot.  If he has friends in the Lawrence music scene, there is a very good chance that I know them.  He’s only here until Sunday which is unfortunate because he seemed really cool.  Ah well…someday someone else with Lawrence knowledge will come my way.

On the way home from campus I asked Francis to help me buy a propane tank for the gas cooker Daniel and I got the night before.  I thought this would be easy.  So did Francis.  We stopped at Total Gas in Nakulabye and the guy was trying to sell me all this stuff: a huge tank, the rubber hose and the regulator.  I stupidly hadn’t opened the box so didn’t know if the cooker came with any of this stuff.  All I knew was that the price seemed much higher than anticipated. Francis decided that we could stop by one more place and check prices and then he would take me home so I could check and then he would go get the tank and whatever else I needed.  There was nothing in the box so I was going to have to suck it up and buy all these various things.  I gave Francis the money and he was off.  He kept calling me to tell me: 1) the tanks we saw at Good Price were not actually for sale; 2) Total Gas couldn’t sell the big tanks, which was the one I needed; 3) Shell Gas also wasn’t selling tanks, only refilling; and 4) the tanks at Kobil were for sale but more expensive and they had no regulators so he would have to find one someplace else.  OK, so on our previous trip to Total the guy was trying to sell me the gas tank, so I don’t know why, only 1 hour later, they couldn’t sell the big tanks.  They could only fill them.  All of these places had multiple empty tanks with price signs next to them, but they couldn’t sell them? I don’t get it!  Where is the logic in that? Francis finally found a tank, had it filled, got the hose and the regulator and brought it back to my house.  I was too scared to hook it up so left it for Daniel who has thus far not been able to figure it out.  So now we have all the components but still can’t use the thing.  Oh Uganda!

I suppose that’s all for now!  It’s getting late so I should head home.  The sun has shifted over to my table at Café Pap, so I am blind and melting. 

This week has been an exciting one.  On Wednesday my new housemate, Daniel (aka The German), moved in.  Jenny went back to Canada yesterday (on Friday) after spending three weeks with her husband (who is at war in Afghanistan) in Mauritius.  I’m sooooo sad to see her go, but am happy for her that she is going home because she hasn’t been happy here for some time.  Daniel and I have made some brilliant decisions in the short time he has been here.  First, we bought a washing machine.  This washing machine changes my life a little bit every day (except for today because we have no water, but those are mere details).  I have been washing my clothes by hand and not minding too terribly much, and also thinking that I was doing quite a good job!  This machine proved to me that I suck and hand washing.  The first load I put through was so gross!  The water that drained from the wash cycle was disgusting!  Now, let me state here that this is not your typical American washer.  There is a wash compartment, and then you drain the tub manually (this took me some time to figure out), and then you take the clothes out and put them in the spinner which spins them until they’re virtually dry, and then you put them back in the washing side, fill it with water (manually) to rinse, drain and then spin again.  At first I was thinking this was still too much work with a machine involved, but no.  You just have to get your system down.  I EVEN BOUGHT LAVENDER SCENTED FABRIC SOFTENER!  As soon as we got this thing home I did five consecutive loads of laundry while Daniel cooked dinner.  He kept coming in the bathroom and saying, “why are you staring at the machine while it washes your clothes?”  I shouted, “because it’s amazing!”  It really is.  I really want to do some laundry now but there’s no water!  Booo. 

Our second great decision was to have a housewarming party last night.  We were originally going to do something simple and just have people over for drinks and dancing, but then one of Daniel’s friends offered to bring his huge grill!  So…we decided to have a bar-b-que!  A BBQ meant we had to get some meat for grilling and various other things.  I, the one who was vegetarian for thirteen years, was in charge of getting the meat.  We decided on chicken, sausages and pork.  The chicken and sausages were easy. I just went up to Nakulabye and bought frozen stuff at the supermarket there.  Pork, on the other hand, I didn’t really know what to do.  I’ve never bought fresh pork in my life, much less in Uganda.  I asked Francis, my boda driver, for help.  Nakulabye is known for its “pork joints” so I figured we could find something.  We found more than I wanted actually. Francis took me to Nicodemus pork butchery and restaurant.  He said it would cost around 4,000 Ugandan shillings ($2.46) per kilo (2.2 lbs.) and he thought I should get 5 kilos.  We pull up on the boda and Francis says, “Look!”  I stupidly looked to where he was pointing which happened to be at the dead pig truck.  Men were unloading the hoofless dead pigs (there were at least 40 of them) from a truck with hooks and carrying them into the butchery.  I screamed, “Ahhh!” and Francis said, “What?  You don’t like it?”  I then explained to him that most Americans like to either see the pig living or see it after it’s cut up so much that we can’t tell what it was.  He just laughed at me.  Well, I thought, at least I’m getting really fresh stuff?  Francis and I started walking toward the butcher’s window, me being careful not to step in blood, and we get in “line”.  Ugandan’s don’t seem to understand the concept of a line.  Regardless of where you are, bank, butcher, grocery store, you just sort of mob the counter and try to get one limb at a time through until you’re in front.  At the pork butcher this is even more true during dead pig unloading. 

Francis and I stood in mob waiting for our turn, as I watched in amazement at the butcher hacking away at this pig with a machete.  Francis ordered the pork for me, and hack, hack, hack, then to the scale, then hack, hack, hack some more.  They left the skin/fat on, but because this pig was literally fresh off the truck, they had to shave my meat in front of me.  Not shave into slices, mind you, but shave the hair off the thing.  Yep.  I was the only mzungu at the meat counter and people kept laughing at the faces I was apparently making.  I’ve always had a very expressive face.  They slopped the pig, or parts of it, into a plastic sack and we were on our way.  I just kept thinking the whole way home that I was bound to get trichinosis or whatever it is that pork carries. 

I delivered my bags full of formerly living creatures at home (chicken, beef and pork sausages, and pork) and headed down to buy some fresh produce to make coleslaw and guacamole (to be served with potato chips instead of tortilla—boo), and some pineapple for dessert. After that, Francis and I were off again to find some ice to keep the crates and crates of beer that Daniel was getting cold.  We went to Super Supermarket in Bukoto (I also needed cat litter and it’s the cheapest in town) and I loaded my backpack, a small duffel bag and several plastic grocery bags with ice and litter.  I think this was officially a record set for home much I have carried on a boda at one time.  We reached my place and my thighs were frozen, my abdominal muscles were on the verge of collapse (this is part of my boda abbs workout—DVD coming soon), my arms were shaking, and I was holding so much I couldn’t get off the boda.  Some random person had to help me. 

Party preparations were under way!  I made the coleslaw and guacamole (possibly my best guac to date) and then Daniel went in and made several marinades for the various meats.  He started marinating the chicken, and then it was time for the pork (he hadn’t seen the pork yet).  He pulled the bag out of the fridge, opened it and said, “what is this?”  Apparently Germans deal with meat similarly to Americans.  He pulled it out of the bag and stared at it, and I just looked at him and said, “I have no idea”.  I sharpened a knife for him and said, “have fun!”  He started cutting the skin/fat off and I had to leave the room.  He seemed to do a good job with it though! 

The party went really well!  I didn’t realize how many people I know!  I would say there were around 30 people here which is crazy!  Some of my classmates came, various people I’ve met since being here, Mabel and her friend, Francis, and all these other people I’ve met recently.  I made some new friends too which is always great.  Now I just need some running water so I can wash all the dishes!  And of course, do more laundry. 

The other exciting thing I did this week was get a massage.  I have been trying to find a decent masseuse here and it has been impossible.  The one’s I have had are relaxing but don’t even come close to working out any of the knots.  I was referred to this place, Beauty Tips, and thought I would give it a try for I was in dire need of some deep tissue goodness.  This woman Bella (my new best friend) was great!  Well, she’s not as great as Melanie from Lawrence, but she was quite good, and for a one hour deep tissue massage at $18.47, how much could you really complain anyway?  I felt like a new person when I left.  The true test, however, is always the next day.  If you feel slightly bruised, you know that things are getting better, and I did!  Now I’m just trying to figure out how long I should wait before going back.  She may think I’m weird if I only wait three days.  Hmmmmm.

That’s about it for now.  I decided to take this week for myself, and now this week is almost over and I know that I have tons of things to do for One Mango Tree, the art academy and of course my dissertation.  I have to get the actual proposal done!  Eek!

It has been a very long time since I have written, and oh so much has happened!  I just read through my last posting and it was soooo long ago!  Oh where to begin?!  Well, let’s start with the inspiration for my headline.  In one week I was in two boda accidents.  Now, I had gotten knocked by cars, nothing serious, but these two accidents resulted with the bike on the ground both times, and one of those times me along with it.  Now, before going into detail, let me just say: Mom, I am OK.  I promise.  Alright, with that out of the way…..I generally use the same boda driver, Francis.  He is absolutely wonderful (not to mention highly amused by the confusion I feel when trying to negotiate how to ride a boda in a dress, for you have to ride side-saddle) and is a very safe driver.  Now I say this, but he was the one which I ended up in both wrecks with.  I can, however, say that neither of these accidents were in any way his fault.  He has avoided countless collisions in the last few months.  Anyway…our first wipe out was actually kind of amusing.  Francis and I were cruising through the Wandegeya intersection and were about 2 feet from clearing it when this bicycle carrying about 6 HUGE bags of flour started to topple over.  The world set to slow motion as the bike and bags fell over on Francis and I as we passed.  It all happened slowly enough that Francis and I both had time to put our feet down so that only the boda fell.  Everyone was fine but there was flower EVERYWHERE!  In fact, when I drove back by about 6 hours later, there was still flour all over the road. 

Five days later was accident number two.  It was less funny to say the least. Francis and I were on our way back to Kasubi (where I live) after running around town running errands.  We had just entered Nakulabye (the neighborhood next to mine) when this other boda drove by carrying large sacks of who knows what.  One of his bags caught on our bike’s handle bar jerking it around and throwing us to the ground.  We slid a little on our right side and a bunch of other boda drivers standing on the side of the road ran out; picked us up, picked the bike up and picked up my bags of yogurt and cat litter (I lead a glamorous life).  It had rained a lot that morning so my entire right side was covered in mud.  The boda drivers kept saying, “Mzungu are you OK?!” and I kept saying, “Francis are you OK?!”  We were both fine, as was the bike, just a little shaken up with some very minor scrapes and bruises.  Apparently Levi’s Jeans are just as effective as Harley Davidson chaps.  The whole rest of the way home everyone kept staring at us and saying things in Luganda.  I asked Francis what they were saying and he said, “they’re saying you fell down.”  Uganda is filled with a plethora of Captain Obvious’.  I reached home, walked in and Meredith said, “Oh my God what happened?!”  I told her the story while ripping my clothes off and soaking them in water so that the mud wouldn’t stain. The next day the whole right side of my body was sore, muscle sore, but that has passed and everything is fine now! 

As of Saturday the 31^st I am officially finished with all lectures, coursework and exams at Makerere University!  Last week I had an exam every morning, Monday through Saturday from 8-11am.  All I have left for my masters is research and dissertation writing and then I will officially be smart!  I’m so excited for the fun part awaits!  After our last exam we had a class party out at KK Beach in Ggaba.  It was quite a bit of fun and likely the last time I will see many of my classmates again.  I was a little saddened by the fact that more of our lecturers and professors didn’t show up.  Actually, only three attended and they weren’t my favorites, but that’s alright.  I suppose my “favorites” I will make a conscious effort to keep in touch with.  In fact, I am supposed to have drinks with my governance lecturer soon.  He’s from Zimbabwe and was a very effective lecturer, so having someone from Zimbabwe teaching us about Governance, Participation and Human Rights was very enlightening given the current state of Zimbabwe (and South Africa).  I must insert here that my heart is breaking for Zimbabwe and South Africa right now.  The Apartheid Regime has not been that long gone.  How is it that we as the “superior” species are always so quick to forget history?  If you are not following the goings on in these two countries, please inform yourselves.  I remember when I was a kid learning about apartheid from my mom.  In fact, one of us still has our “End South African Apartheid” button (sorry Mom, I may have stolen that).  We are supposed to be smarter than this; we should learn from our mistakes, but instead we keep letting history repeat itself, and unfortunately, it’s usually the negative history which takes part in this vicious cycle. 

In my last blog I wrote about this fund raiser which I was organizing for Nagenda International Academy of Art and Design (NIAAD).  Well, I successfully organized a one night art exhibition/auction at Restaurant La Fontaine (my old home).  I would say our turn out was around 100, we successfully had an article in The Daily Monitor and The New Vision newspapers (the two leading English language publications in Uganda), and sold I believe four paintings total.  It went very well.  I was and still am shocked that I pulled this off!  The night went off without a hitch!  La Fontaine made some appetizers from a menu which I created, I made an AMAZING playlist filled with old jazz and blues from America and around the World, and people from all nationalities attended.  Our first guests were actually from Russia and barely spoke English and Adrienne and Lindsey, I tried oh so hard but could not for the life of me remember how to greet!  Now I do and feel like an idiot, but whatever.  I thought about saying “I don’t speak Russian” in Russian but realized that was a given, and then I thought about saying “pectopah” but realized that I would be the only one laughing (in Cyrillic text, there are seemingly backward Latin letters, thus allowing the average English speaker to sound words out when their mind converts this foreign alphabet into the familiar Latin alphabet.  Example:  Moscow in Cyrillic looks like Mockba which is why I call it Mockba and not Moscow).  I did manage to say thank you for coming, well, at least the thank you part anyway…hmmmm.  Yeah, I failed at that one.  BUT the night was not lost due to this falter.  There were Makerere art students there, many of my friends, people from various NGOs and embassies, etc., and the night was filled with my four favorite arts: the art of music, painting, conversation and the culinary.  Wonderful! 

While I was working on promotion of the event (I have seen ALL of Kampala by boda and by foot thanks to this venture) I spoke with the Community Liaison at the US Embassy.  I was standing outside the embassy (they wouldn’t let me in without an appointment) speaking with Robyn asking if she could put up some posters and pass out some of our invites and she stopped me and said, “where did you get your bag?!”  I was carrying on of our new One Mango Tree market totes. =)  Jackpot!  Robyn was organizing a small craft bazaar for US Embassy personnel for the following Thursday from 9am-3pm and invited One Mango Tree to set up a table!  With the help of Colin we pulled this off (I had an exam until 11am that day).  We managed to sell a significant amount of stuff and have a handful of people interested in getting first pick from our next order!  Many of these people are preparing to head back to the US for holiday and needed gifts for family and friends, so this should help to get our name out even more!  In fact, Robyn is going back Stateside for July and August and is going to meet with Halle to discuss setting up possible house party/sales (Mary Kay style) with her mom and her mom’s friends! 

The US Embassy sale was great timing because I had just received our new order from Lucy.  Lucy brought our order to Kampala (her sister lives just outside the city so if she is able to bring it this is perfect because we pay for her transport and she gets to visit family) on the 23^rd (Friday).  She called me when her bus arrived at the bus park and I called Francis and we went to meet her. I was walking through the park looking for Lucy and my eyes set on this woman with big, bright eyes and a HUGE smile.  It was Lucy!  I walked hurriedly to her and she gave me a big hug and a bag of mangoes from Gulu!  I am convinced that I could be having the worst day and seeing Lucy would always make it all better. 

While Lucy was here I needed to get another order to her which meant the following day (the same day as the NIAAD art exhibition) I had to go into Old Kampala and purchase a ton of fabric, come home, figure out what fabric was for what product, how many it could make and what color liner to use, place the instruction on each one and then meet Lucy again in Old Kampala on Sunday, give her money for labor on the last order and deliver the fabric before she got on the bus to return to Gulu on Monday morning.  EXHAUSTING, but fulfilling.  With A LOT of help from Meredith I got this done.  Well, help from Meredith and Francis.  Francis helped me pick up the order (he strapped the order to his boda and found me another to bring home—I trust him with our products) and then carried me and about 10 tons of fabric down to meet Lucy, drove Lucy and the fabric to her taxi (it was too heavy to carry) and then came back to Mukwano Arcade to pick me and take me back home.  I have become quite good at carrying huge items on bodas lately.  In fact, one boda driver told me the other day after dropping me at home with a gynormous banana leaf chest, that I am a real Ugandan because I can carry such things on a boda and I live in Kasubi near Munacu stage (munacu translates into poor man).  Now, this is contrary to what Dr. Musana (the director of my program) told me the other day.  Musana had just returned from a month in Hawaii and he caught me after finishing an exam.  He grabbed my shoulders and said “Kate!  What is happening!  You are so small, you look like a Rwandan!”  So yes, I have lost weight, and this is quite possibly the best thing anyone has said to me and the best way of recognizing my “reduction”.  I don’t know if I have mentioned this before but people comment on your weight openly here.  Before I heard, “you are fat!” more often than I would like (statements like that give American girls a serious complex).  Now, this is not construed as an insult (normally) here, for being fat means you are healthy and not poor, but I can assure you it does not matter how long I stay here, I will never be OK with this.  I am, however, OK with people saying, “ah! You have reduced!” That I do like.

In other One Mango Tree news, we have been invited to sell at an art and crafts bazaar hosted by the EPA which Halle is handling, AND last week I got a call from my friend Glenna (an American journalist here) saying that Marie Claire International (specifically the Czech Republic) wants to do a feature on One Mango Tree for their “More Than a Pretty Face” column!  Glenna and the Marie Claire journalist traveled up to Gulu last week and interviewed and snapped photos of Lucy!  Halle and I will be interviewed via email, and the issue should print in October or November!  I always hoped that someday I would be huge in Eastern Europe!  Adrienne gets Montenegro and Serbia, I get the former Yugoslavia!  Our hope is that other country issues of Marie Claire will like the feature and pick the story up for their issues (come on USA!!).  So this is great news. 

In other news….I have adopted two cats!  They are sister and sooooo cute (though no cats will EVER compare to Sid, Nancy and Egg).  Their names are Kupama and Embizzi wich mean poop and pig respectively.  Kupama (poop) was not only stuck in a latrine for two days, but it turns out she also poops A LOT.  Embizzi (pig) eats constantly (or would if I let her).  It’s ironic because you would think the one eating all the time would also be pooping all the time, but I suppose this could be explained by some sort of sisterly bond?  I know Adrienne, Lindsey and I all tend to have gas at the same time, even with us being so far apart, so who knows? 

Last night I went to the most amazing concert at a beautiful theatre! The theatre is called Theatre La Bonita and reminded me of what the Granada once was, or more accurately, Liberty Hall in Lawrence.  The lobby was decorated in small, brightly colored tiles and their soft serve ice cream machine uses the McDonnald’s recipe!  The club owner told me this and I didn’t believe him until I tasted it! AMAZING!  I don’t know if I’ve commented on this before, but the ice cream here is AWFUL.  The inside of the theatre was covered with red, ornate carpet (typical of old theatres in the US) and deep crimson walls, velour seat covers and long, heavy crimson velvet curtains.  The opening local band was called Quela.  Quela was a neo-jazz group and started with covers such as “Stand By Me” and “The Girl from Eponeoma”  which I absolutely love.  Then they played some of their original stuff which was a juxtaposition of traditional music with classic jazz infusions.  It was really great! The two guest artists were from the US!!  N’dambi is from Dallas, Texas and her music would be classified as neo-soul.  Her stage presence was fantastic and she reminded me A LOT of Tina Turner with her hair, dress, voice and dance.  She got the crowd going by walking down the steps in the front of the stage and sitting on this Ugandan man’s lap while singing.  Following that escapade, she forced this other man up on stage to dance with her in a manner which made me blush a little.  If any of you at home hear of her performing near you YOU MUST GO! 

The final act was a man (and his band) called Amp Fiddler from Detroit, Michigan.  ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!  Amp’s music was also neo-soul and oh so great!  He had us dancing and singing along almost the whole time!  Actually, I was in the front row and have a feeling my photo will end up in the local press and my butt-shaking on local television.  Oh man. 

I talked to all the musicians after the show and bought some of their music.  The words, “I’m from Kansas!” wouldn’t stop coming out of my mouth.  Oh it was soooo much fun!!!!

Tonight I am going to see the “Sex in the City” movie!!  Yes, it is here and I think it’s only appropriate that this is my first cinematic experience in Uganda; however, I am saddened by the fact that I’m not watching it with Sarah, Adrienne and Lindsey.  Oh I can’t wait to see what happens!!! I’m dragging my Danish friend, Diana and my friend Roxanne’s fiancé Ankunda along for the ride.  I’m not sure if he knows what he’s in for, so I truly hope he doesn’t hate me forever!  Roxanne told me I should make him go with me (though I think she was joking) so I’m just following orders!

And I’ve recently started tutoring a 15-year-old Chinese girl in English.  She is here with her aunt and uncle learning how to do weaves, braids and cornrows because no one knows how to do that in Hong Kong.  Go figure!  She’s very sweet and this is proving to be quite the challenge, but she is making vast improvement and building more confidence in speaking.  Wednesday we’re going to the supermarket to try to work on buying food!

Alright, this is a long one and I’m sorry.  I will genuinely try to start writing more frequent (i.e. shorter) updates. 

27 April 2008

I was just standing outside on my balcony, unfortunately smoking a cigarette (it’s not as easy to quit as they make it look on T.V.) and staring up at the stars.  The stars have never been as bright as they are in Uganda.  Anyway, I was staring at the twinkling stars, fixated on this one that I believe was actually a satellite (you know, the ones that look like stars on LSD) and just letting my mind go.  I noticed my thinking because though I’ve been obnoxiously cerebral lately, none of my thoughts have been clear.  This last month has been so emotionally draining that every thought has seemed to get tangled around every other thought until my brain became constipated. Something about the twinkling stars and the Ugandan reggaeton blaring from the bar down the street sent a much needed calming sensation my way, though I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until that feeling is gone. 

A lot of things have happened since the last time I wrote, but these “things” have been so all over the place, so I guess I’ll just write a bunch of randomness.  I suppose that’s not so different than my other ramblings.  I think this time I will work backwards. 

Halle left tonight, actually, her plane takes off in 15 minutes to transport her back to the U.S.  It is so hard to see her go.  She arrived on March 10 for a three week “business” trip which actually got extended to today.  It has been so great having her around, and thank God she was here through a really rough patch for me, including my latest melt down.  Her visit, I think, has been good for us, for we had to learn how to relate to one another not just as friends, but as co-workers which is difficult and crucial in a situation like ours.  I miss her already. 

One Mango Tree is (hopefully) up for some fun stuff which I’m really excited about.  On Halle’s visit we have managed to expand our line and are ready to offer lots of new products!  For those of you in Lawrence, KS (or the surrounding areas), we will have a table (thanks to my awesome friends at home) at the Ladies of Lawrence Artwork (LOLA) show this coming Saturday—May 3 at Pachamama’s Restaurant (8^th and New Hampshire) from 11am-4pm (don’t worry, there will be an reminder email for you all).  You will be able to pick from our new (and old) products and new fabrics which I PROMISE are absolutely amazing!! 

I am also trying to wrap my head around this grant that OMT received.  We will be expanding our efforts into two of the internally displaced persons (IDP) camps in Gulu district, starting in June, so I need to start working on (along with Julie who applied for the grant and will be here working with me!!) designing baseline research, acquiring sewing machines, etc.  I’m excited for this to keep me busy!

Another project which I have just started is organizing a fund raiser for the Nagenda International Academy of Art and Design (NIAAD).  This Ugandan artist, Kizito, has been working to get East Africa’s only true art academy open for quite some time, and all of the funding has come through the sales of his art work.  His work is like no other work I have seen here before.  He is internationally trained/renowned, and the school looks to be amazing.  The structure is 99% complete, and he just needs to finish the plumbing, pay for the inspection and the license and the academy will be up and running.  He has had many international funders interested; however, most of them want to wait until the school is actually up and running.  This is where I come into the picture.  I am in the process of trying to organize a fundraiser here in Kampala, and I’m doing this with absolutely no budget.  Need I elaborate on how difficult this is?  Didn’t think so.  Progress thus far:  I have a free venue.  The fundraiser (which will be an art opening where we hope to sell more of Kizito’s work) will be held on May 24^th (a Saturday night) at La Fontaine, the place which I used to live.  They have tons of wall space in the restaurant and it is situated near two “richer” neighborhoods and in an area where expats tend to hang out.  The venue is free, but we will have to pay for La Fontaine to make food.  So now I’m working on a menu so that I can hopefully get an estimate.  I’m also working to find various liquor companies to donate some booze (because by the end of this I will need all the free booze I can get).  Then there’s publicity.  Printing is so expensive here so I have some contacts and am going to try to negotiate my butt off for posters and post cards.  I have some photos of some of Kizito’s work that I would like to use for the posters and cards, but I am nervous about the price, especially since we have no money to work with.  Eek!  BUT, I am optimistic. 

While I haven’t heard either way about the job with Educate! Africa, I did hear back about the fellowship which I applied for through Grassroots Reconciliation Group and I did not get the position.  I must say this is kind of a blessing in disguise.  I really did not want to move to Gulu for 1 year, but my financial situation at the moment isn’t really allowing me to be too picky, and it would have been an amazing opportunity and experience.  Apparently it was between me and one other person, but they were able to meet the other candidate in person which was an added bonus for them.  Humph! 

Halle was doing some consulting work while she was here, and the company she was working for put her up in the Serena hotel.  The Serena is a five star hotel and was featured in the December issue of Architectural Digest Magazine.  I have never been in a hotel that nice.  There are ancient African artifacts on display in the rooms, and the showers gave you the option between a regular showerhead and a “rain” showerhead!  AND there was a bathtub!  The gardens surrounding the hotel are absolutely gorgeous and the pool has a waterfall nearby.  It actually made you think you were not in Uganda.  Absolutely amazing.  I stayed the night with Halle in her paradise on Wednesday night and we went down for the breakfast buffet (um…the best eating experience I’ve had in months) and I was sitting and reading the daily monitor and knew it was the best day ever when I came across the headline: “Penis Theft Thrives in Congo”.  Apparently these wizards are going around touching men on the shoulder and then penis shrinks or disappears.  Then they begin extorting money from their victims in exchange for a cure.  The police chief is “tempted to say it’s one huge joke”.  A few pages further there is a two page spread on masturbation, “Self-Pleasure: Healthy habit of vicious vice?”  Very enlightening.  I love Ugandan media. And now I cannot get the King Missile song, “Detachable Penis” out of my head.

I have been trying my damndest to appreciate the small things because I feel like I have been far too negative lately.  Yesterday I was on a boda cruising past the Kasubi Tombs on my way to Java’s (the best café attached to a petrol station ever) and there was this little boy, probably about 3 years old, standing on the side of the road shaking his butt to the music in the air.  On my way home from Java’s, I had flagged a boda and was trying to explain where I needed to go and he wasn’t getting what I was saying.  Some random guy walking by came up and started explaining the area in Luganda and looked at me and said, “I would go with you and show him but I have to go up to campus to do some things”.  I told him that I lived in Kasubi and could show the driver and the man said, “oh!  OK!” and then proceeded to negotiate a price for me and then smiled at me and was on his way.  I told at least three people about this because it was so nice.  It’s these small things that make me love being here.  Once in a while you can cut through the sounds of “mzungu give me money” and the kissing sounds made by boda drivers and garbage men (this is a worldwide phenomenon) and those are the days that are beautiful here.  Then you get crapped on by a bird.

Classes are actually (for the most part) going well.  All of my course work is due in the next two weeks, but I have managed to get a fair amount done.  Then at the end of May I will take my exams and then all I will have left is my dissertation!  I’m actually quite stressed about this because I don’t have my proposal completed, or even started for that matter, but everything works itself out in the end.  Right? 

I’ve been spending more time with some of my classmates which is good, and have managed to find a new roommate for when Jenny goes back to Canada in June.  I have successfully suckered the German guy in my program, Daniel, into moving in with me!  I think it will be fine.  We listen to the same music, he likes cats (there are two waiting to move into my home as soon as Jenny leaves) and he pronounces my last name better than I so it should be wonderful.  I’m just glad to have that worry out of the way. And yes, I am planning on playing Kraftwerk’s song “Pocket Calculator” every time he walks in the door.

Last weekend I went to a beach party.  Uganda is landlocked but I still managed to go to a beach party.  Some woman who lives in Bukoto (one of the nicer areas of Kampala) had this party just because.  She imported sand from somewhere and covered her entire compound in sand, had tiki torches, a free open bar, drinks in carved out pineapples, inflatable boats filled with ice and beer, a dance floor, portable toilets with people hired to keep them clean, gambling tables complete with dealers, and by the looks of it, more than enough drugs for Kampala.  Oh yeah, there were also people breathing fire and twirling flaming balls on chains.  Anyway, we heard about this party, and at midnight it was Halle’s birthday so we decided to go and consider it Halle’s birthday party.  It was seriously too much fun.  The music was kind of awful (nothing but house music, it didn’t matter how many times I requested Sean Paul), but I still danced for hours, even when the rains came around 3am, I was still dancing.  Meredith and I tried to wait for the rains to stop so we could get bodas home, but it just wouldn’t, so at 6am we sucked it up and got a special hire, even though it was far too expensive.  On the ride to Kasubi I was sitting in the passenger seat chatting up the driver in my best Ugandlish to date while Meredith sat in the back seat cracking up.  The next morning I woke up and there was sand all over my house.  I think it’s still in my ears and I have no idea how it got there because I was neither wrestling nor trying to break dance.

I know that many other things have happened, and they likely deserve a place in my blog, but three pages should suffice for now. 

I awoke this morning around 8am and all seemed normal.  All was seemingly quiet aside from the school children arriving to school outside my window.  I laid in bed for a bit just thinking (it’s been a long week with lots to think about—see previous blog post) and around 9am I started moving around, making coffee, writing, listening to music, etc.  Around noon I received a text from Halle that said, “I hear there is a riot in Kampala…”.  I immediately called her because I had no clue what she was talking about.  She was on her way back from Gulu and her driver had gotten word of a riot but that was all they knew.  I said to her, “well, it looks alright outside here?  People are scurrying around the neighborhood and something is burning, but that’s not abnormal.”  I called Francis, my boda driver and friend and asked him if he could come pick me up and he hesitated and said, “well there is a problem but let me come”.  I walked downstairs waiting for Francis hoping that I would be able to go to my old neighborhood to meet a tailor to have a dress made out of this awesome fabric I found a couple of months ago.  I was assuming that if there was a riot it would be in the city center for that is where most of this kind of excitement tends to take place, but he just smiled at me and said there was no way.  Apparently the boda drivers and taxi drivers are striking due to some new government regulations against them, something about permits and third-part insurance, etc.  I didn’t get all that he was saying (language barrier) but I understood very clearly that the drivers who were going ahead and transporting people were having rocks and sticks thrown at them by other drivers who were striking. 

Francis also informed me that there were police and military troops deployed all over the city, and that there was actually military up by the Kasubi Tombs (less than a mile from my house).  I of course was smart about this and decided to stay home, but needed to get some airtime for my phone and some water so I asked Francis if he thought I would be alright to walk down to the store and get these things (1/2 block away roughly) and he said yes, but he couldn’t take me.  So, I grabbed my things and headed down to the intersection.  It turned out that the smoke I had seen was not someone burning trash which is normal, but was a tire and shack that had been thrown in the middle of the intersection and set ablaze.  I immediately became tense.  Now, I do not get harassed in my neighborhood too much for being white.  I hear the occasional “mzungu, we go?!” from boda drivers but it is easily ignored.  Today, however, as I’m walking around the flaming junk in the street a large group of men started yelling all kinds of things at me.  I won’t lie, it scared the hell out of me, but I just ignored them and kept walking and was fine.  I called Halle to let her know what I had found out and to just have some comfort on the phone, and I saw 4 Mormons standing on the stoop of the store.  It’s this weird psychological phenomenon that happens here, especially if you’re in an uncomfortable situation, that makes you become uncontrollably drawn toward all the other white people you see.  I can’t explain it, but I ended up sitting there talking to these guys who are on their “mission” for longer than I could believe, but this was a scary situation for me. 

I enter the store and purchase my water and airtime and come back out and the scene on the corner seems to have picked up in intensity.  The group of men who had yelled at me had started throwing rocks and sticks at anyone who was driving by.  One boda who wasn’t even carrying a passenger was knocked over, and people were chasing others through the streets.  One matatu (minibus taxi) drove by and you could see a few passengers laying down in the seats to avoid being hit.  I decided it would be best for me to stay at the store with my new Mormon friends.  More and more things were being thrown on the fire, more and more screaming and throwing as I grew increasingly uncomfortable.  I thought I was mostly out of the way until I came within a foot of being hit by a flaming stick.  I don’t think it was thrown at me for things were being thrown indiscriminately, but it was enough for me to duck back inside the store as people laughed at me.  Enter police and military. I look up and see about 10-15 men and women in uniform arrive to the intersection causing the situation to intensify even more, and to my left two civilian men are dragging another (possibly who set the fire) over to the police while beating him in the head.  Two police take him and start dragging him up the hill to where I assume the paddy wagon was stationed.  A moment later I see another civilian across the street grab this other man, throw him on the ground and proceed to stomp on his head and chest yelling for the police/military to come.  A group of civilians keep beating this man as he’s laying on the ground screaming and the authorities come, cuff him and continue beating him with their billy clubs.  They’re dragging the man off in the same direction as the previous man all while various people in the community are punching him in the face and the back of the head.  I felt sick.  Helpless and sick.  I had my camera and wanted to take photos of all of these occurrences but knew better.  The fire was put out and things seemed to start to calm down.  I was afraid to walk back to my house, mainly just because of that intersection and thought to ask an officer to escort me but frankly, and this is the case her and at home (though mostly here), I’m almost more afraid of the police officers than the rioting people.  So I waited a bit and my Mormon friends said they were going to go back to work and I told them that I was going to walk with them past the intersection if that was alright and they said that was fine. 

So I have been at home now, waiting, waiting.  Around 3pm I heard something being broadcast over a loud speaker but it was in Luganda so I have no idea what was being said.  My new friends next door aren’t home so were unavailable for translation (I really need to work on learning this language).  Francis told me that he would call me when things were calm and we could move about the city.  He predicted 4pm.  It is now 5pm and no word.  I hope he’s alright.  My area seems quite calm, but I’m still not seeing any matatus driving around, and very few boda drivers with passengers, so I assume I’m missing lectures. 

I promise I’ll stay safe—not do anything stupid, and I will update when I figure out exactly what is happening!

Hello all!  I’m sorry it has been quite some time since my last post, and actually, quite a bit has happened. 

On Wednesday I left with my class for a 5 day trip to Rwanda.  We were going in order to study the Rwandan Genocide of 1994 up close, meeting with various NGO’s which specialized in reconciliation and reintegration, various government officials, a representative for the Gacaca courts (the traditional justice system), etc.  Where do I begin?!

Wednesday morning we were told that the Faculty of Arts bus would arrive at the Peace Centre at 7am, and that we would leave at 8am and anyone not on the bus would be left behind.  We left at 10am because there weren’t enough seats for everyone on the trip.  Oops!  So, six generous people offered to take public transport to Kigali.  I think they knew that they would arrive about 3 hours before us because the public bus only stops once, in Mbarara, for people to get food and use the toilet.  Our bus stopped approximately every 1 to 1.5 hours for people to go for a “short call” or to buy fruits and vegetables (I wanted to buy a rooster) out of the bus window.  Most of my classmates would never survive a road trip with my father.  Thank you Dad for teaching me how to dehydrate myself before a long drive (and for teaching me how to pee on the side of the road using the two car doors for shelter). 

Let me insert a comment here:  Ugandans (in general) litter more than I could ever even think of littering.  It’s insane.  I don’t  think I could litter that much if I tried!  Rwanda, on the other hand, has very strict littering laws.  They are so strict in fact that plastic bags are illegal in the country, and at the border they will search your vehicle for plastic bags before allowing you in the country.  One of my classmates actually said, while pushing her empty plastic water bottle out the window, “I better do this while I can”, and on the way home from Rwanda, I noticed that one of my other classmates had hidden a plastic bag under one of the seats to see if he could successfully get it in and out of the country.  So weird! 

Our bus arrived at our guest house in Kigali around 9:30pm.  The drive between the border and Kigali was dark, but I was already excited about going home so I could view the scenery because the moonlight led me to believe that the view would be magnificent in daylight.  We found our rooms, setting our things down and headed for the dining hall for dinner.  Following a delicious meal of chicken and sauce, rice, matooke and fruit, we had a short meeting discussing the start of the next day.  First on the agenda was to determine which time to use (Rwanda is one hour behind Uganda).  Of course to me it seemed logical to use Rwanda time considering we were in Rwanda and not in Uganda, but some had issues with this.  It was, however, determined that we would be using Rwanda time.   We were also told that breakfast would be served at 7am and that we would have a meeting following discussing the program for the trip (there was no itinerary yet).

I awoke around 5:30am to my two roommates, Pamela and Patience, being very impatient and frazzled worried that I was oversleeping.  Their watches were still set to Ugandan time.  I thought that it was made clear, and then I obviously made it clear again, but this problem happened EVERY morning.  Of course, I was generally already awake because Pamela had some serious sinus issues so for about 30 minutes every morning it sounded like there was an elephant in the room. 

For breakfast we had bread and jam and an omelet and some delicious instant coffee.  Our meeting proceeded and I thought we would be given the program for the next three days, but instead we were given a tentative schedule for the day (and it was quite incomplete).  We first traveled to Rwanda Institute of Education where Musana (the director of my program) had studied for some time, so he could visit with some old friends and in an attempt to locate a professor or lecturer who could come and give us a lecture on the history of Rwanda.  It may have been nice to do this before departing from Uganda, but whatever. 

I thought our day was finally over because no other activities had been dictated to us and the next thing I knew was we were parking outside the Ugandan Embassy.  Did we have an appointment?  There were so many of us, could we all get in?  These were clearly American questions.  We entered the compound and were welcome in to the 2 room building.  The ambassador was out and his assistant was speaking with us when the ambassador walked in.  After the shock of our ambush wore off, the ambassador invited us to his home the following night (Friday) for drinks and hors de o’vres and we gladly accepted.  We were back to the guest house for

Friday proved to be a very, very busy day.  We again met for breakfast at 7am, and at 8 were off to meet with an NGO which focused on the reintegration of former child soldiers into society.  They were given 1 hour to present to us and take questions, and after rushing through their power point presentation we had to go!  No time for questions for we had scheduled another meeting with the Gacaca representative.  We were invited to come back after meeting with Gacaca (luckily the two buildings were only about a block apart) to ask follow-up questions.  We also had a date with the Ugandan ambassador!

We arrived at the ambassador’s house and he had several tables covered in white table cloths set up in his backyard, a relatively fully stocked bar, full catering service and professional DJ’s!  Crazy!  His house was much more impressive than the embassy itself!  While we were being served food, there was a Ugandan tourism video which he had set up to show us.  It was the “Presidential Tour” of Uganda and I believe was featured on the travel channel.  It was quite amusing, I have to say.  Anyone with Netflix should try to rent it!  The bar had some nice red wine and needless to say I drank a little too much.  This was actually an excellent bonding opportunity for me and the German student who is here this semester, and honestly all of us!  There was drinking, dancing and laughing.  I have been so negative towards almost all of the aspect of my program this whole time, including my classmates, and truth be told, some of them are really great.  I wish we would have gone on this trip last semester so I could have seen this before.  It’s too bad really.  Most of them are a lot of fun and very, VERY funny, and I have since, in the last few days, found them to be quite caring and supportive, but I’ll get to that later.

Saturday we finally went to the official genocide memorial.  This museum is a must.  It is so well done and so moving, and it was really what was lacking on the rest of the program.  We had been sitting and listening to speaker after speaker and honestly it was getting quite boring.  The museum, complete with video, photos, etc. was so moving and put the faces to the tragedy that were much needed. 

Following the genocide museum (which we didn’t have nearly enough time for) we were whisked away to meet with the Rwandan President’s Presidential Envoy to the Great Lakes Region.  I have never experienced security so tight in East Africa.  Our names were called in groups as we lined up to start going through security.  Once we were through we were directed to a waiting room.  I was probably the 12^th person in, took a seat feeling incredibly awkward.  There were three large white men (very much Russian) laying sprawled on the couch like you would see in some movie about the mafia.  Everyone was silent and I made eye contact with Daniel (the German) which confirmed that we both felt awkward.  The men finally left in order to give up their seats to more of us students.  We waited and waited (I slept in my chair because I was trying to recover from an amazing hangover—I didn’t got to bed after the ambassadors house but rather went to anther bar with some classmates) and finally were taken in to see the presidential envoy.  He discussed various regional issues before and after the genocide and discussed some of the governmental stances on issues revolving around genocide today. He is a Makerere alum. 

Sunday was the day to come home!  We departed Kigali at 8am (Rwanda time), and of course didn’t get home until around 10:30pm.  I bought lots of green peppers, onions and carrots from the side of the road (for oh so very cheap—with the help of my friend Paul) and took quite possibly too many pictures of this one rooster in particular.  I seem to have developed an obsession with taking photos of farm animals—cows (especially the long-horn Ankole cattle), chickens and goats.  I guess this isn’t anything particularly new, but it’s just getting a little more intense.  I’ve also been taking some produce pics too that I really like. 

I think my favorite part of the trip honestly was getting to know my classmates better.  It has really given me a new perspective on everything, which I will say was much needed.

Monday morning I had a job interview with a non-profit called Educate! Africa (www.educateafrica.org)

 and I feel that it went well.  It is for the position of country director and is a one year commitment.  Keep your fingers crossed for me!

The second half of Monday was not so great, but I won’t go into details, but it resulted in the end of my relationship which started in late September/early October?  It’s been a tough week for sure, but I know everything will be fine.  I have had a lot of amazing support from family and friends here (even though they are all out of town this week so I am physically alone) and at home and I am soooooo thankful for that.  It’s strange, this has made me wonder why I would leave a place where I have so many people who love me!  I must be crazy! Now I’m just trying to make myself focus as much energy on other things, which there are MANY things.  I’m so glad that I am not in the same space as I was in August and September of last year, otherwise this would have been a debilitating blow, but there are enough distractions and things going on in my life that I think I will be spared from losing my mind. =) I’ve also had quite a bit of unexpected support from some of the classmates which I bonded with on the trip and one of my neighbors in my new place.  She actually tried to get me to go out last night but I told her I didn’t think I was up for it but that she should force me next week. 

OK, three full pages is enough!  More later!

I am sitting in my living room, feet in a metal pot filled with extremely hot water, salts and lemon grass (Africa makes my feet even grosser than bar tending), a glass of really cheap red wine by my side and Danny Pound on my ipod.  I’m thinking about my Easter and about the past few days, or week I guess.  It seems, as always, like Gulu happened 2 months ago. 

Yesterday was very long.  Halle and boarded the bus from Gulu back to Kampala at 6am.  The bus was finally filled and ready to go by 9am and we reached Kampala at 4pm.  Halle, who was sitting in the seat in front of me because we both wanted to be by the window, turned as we pulled into the bus park and looked at me and started laughing as she handed me a wet wipe.  She said I had a Frida Khalo brow going on, and the left half of my face was turning Ugandan.  When the wet wipe came back black after only a few strokes, I understood what she meant.  Upon returning home I saw the remnants of my dust-covered face along with my hair that looked as if I had stuck my finger in a light socket. 

I jumped into the shower for the third life changing shower of the week, and then laid down on my bed and my life was changed AGAIN!  Beautiful.  Halle knocked on my door and said “I have to eat or I’m going to pass out”.  We decided that since a) we had been in Gulu where the food isn’t really that great and b) we really hadn’t celebrated our grant that we should go somewhere nice.  We chose Kabira Country Club (the country club which I have successfully been sneaking into to use their pool and gym) because Halle and I hadn’t eaten there since last August when I first got to Kampala. 

On our way to Kabira (via boda boda) I saw and amazing sight. There was a man on a boda in front of us that had at least 24 live chickens cascading down either side of him.  It looked like he was wearing live chicken chaps!  There has never been a time when I have been so upset that I did not have my camera in tow.  Halle’s boda pulled up next to me and Halle yelled, “they seem so calm!”.  I was thinking they were either in too much pain to make noise or scared out of their wits and didn’t dare make a peep. 

Chicken chaps man turned off of our road, and soon we were at Kabira.  We realized that we could get two things which we totally loved and split them and it was the perfect amount of food and it was delicious!  Our “starter” is the avocado and bacon salad, which we have dubbed “good fat, bad fat” followed by Tilapia Zanzibar, which is grilled tilapia in a light herb cream sauce, delicious mashed potatoes and steamed veggies.  Fantastical!  We then decided that dinner should also consist of several glasses of wine and Crepes Rwenzori (a crepe topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, another crepe on top drizzled with chocolate sauce and sprinkled with cashews).  It was an incredible celebration, and then the bill came.  It was a bit high (mainly due to the wine) but totally worth it. 

Today we woke up and had decided a few days ago to have Easter brunch at La Fontaine (my old home).  It was super overcast outside but we decided to brave the trek to my old stomping grounds by boda.  It started raining on the way, and by the time we reached the restaurant we were all freezing.  Brunch made everything better. Hash browns, scrambled eggs, fresh yogurt with fruit and honey, French toast, fresh orange juice, and French press coffee all for $7.00!  Brilliant.  We sat for a while enjoying the food and dreading leaving for it was still rainy and cold. 

We finally detached ourselves from our seats at La Fontaine, and Halle convinced me to go to this hotel called Amin Pasha.  She had gone on and on to me about how wonderful the place was, with big cushy couches and delicious coffee.  She said it made you feel like you weren’t in Uganda which sometimes you just need.  We were off via special hire for  it was still raining.  We entered the hotel and I felt all of my tension start o melt away.  There were rooms, inside and out filled with the most comfortable looking couches!  We headed downstairs to the bar/café area to find a couch in the open-air area.  We sat down across from two Americans who lived in Uganda for five years and now live in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania working for a couple of NGO’s.  We chatted with them for a while and they offered to put me in contact with this man who used to work for World Bank and is now retired and does different contracts with various UN projects. He could prove to b a very valuable contact for me.  Fingers crossed!

The dark day began to grow darker, and one of the workers (in full tunic and fez uniform) came to our coffee table to light a lantern for us.  I asked if the rain would ever stop and told him it was too cold and the next thing I knew he was wrapping Halle and I in hand woven throw blankets!  Amazing!  This of course made me stay longer and inevitably we ordered a very expensive (by Uganda standards) but incredibly delicious dinner.  Around 9:30pm the rain had subsided and I decided it was time to head home.  I called Francis, my boda driver, and he came and picked me up and drove me to my home in Kasubi.

Where do I begin to talk about this visit (which is still going on) to Gulu? 

After getting a very late start on Tuesday, Halle and I were off, via public bus (oh it hurts just thinking about it), to Gulu for Halle’s first visit since August of last year.  We arrived at the bus park in Old Kampala around 10am, fabrics, elastic and foam rolls in hand. After climbing aboard the large yellow monstrosity, we claimed our seats near the back of the bus (but thankfully not in the very back.  A very friendly Ugandan man (Trevor) immediately started chatting us up, and we learned that he was back in Uganda for the first time in 7 years!  Trevor is from Gulu but has been living in the U.K. for the past seven years working first in a psychiatric hospital (for 2 years), and then as a social worker (for the past 5 years).  He is so nice and when Halle and I return to Kampala (he has already gone back) we are all going to get together.  It was clear that he related more to us than his fellow Ugandan’s which was very interesting to me. 

We finally arrived in Gulu around 5:30pm, exhausted, dirty and oh so very hungry (we hadn’t eaten all day aside from a banana purchased out of the bus window).  We checked in to Hotel Kakanyero and high-tailed it to Bambu (one of the three “Western” restaurants in Gulu).  We inhaled our food as a very serious looking storm rolled into town.  We made our way back to Kakanyero, showered and passed out.

**Day 2—Wednesday**

We woke up on Wednesday excited for the day.  Halle and I ate breakfast at the hotel and then proceeded to the market to see Lucy!  Lucy and Halle hadn’t seen each other since last August, and when we walked up they immediately embraced each other while I struggled to get my camera out, failing miserably.  It was pretty great, and you’ll just have to take my word for it.  We all sat down in the stall allowing several minutes for us to all just look at one another and smile.  Beautiful.  We talked with Lucy for some time, asking how she was doing, etc. and then came business.  Halle brought some new samples for new One Mango Tree products (yes we are expanding our line and yes you just have to wait) so we presented them to Lucy to get feedback on logistics, etc. After delivering all of our goodies to Lucy we headed into the market to purchase fabrics!  We have found all kinds of awesome new fabrics.  I’m so excited about it!  I also dropped three pairs of pants off at this other tailoring shop to have them altered, repaired and to have a whole new pair made. 

I won’t go in to too much detail because a) I’m so exhausted that everything is blending together (yesterday seemed like 3 days) and b) it may not be as exciting to you as it is to us.  But essentially, yesterday was full of fabric-buying, number crunching, instruction giving and sweat.  Overall, AWESOME. 

We returned to the hotel where there was no running water.  Halle went to the internet café to check her email, and I stayed in the room to check mine.  My phone rang and it was Halle who sounded a bit funny on the phone.  The only thing she said was, “We got it!”.  It took me a second and then came the freak out!  We got the grant we had applied for!  This grant money means that this summer we will, with the help of Lucy and Gulu Women’s Economic Development and Globalization (GWEDG), be able to move our operations into two of the IDP camps surrounding Gulu Town. This move will provide training and income for women in the camps, giving them a skill which they can take back to their villages when they do return. This will also ideally help One Mango Tree to expand, filling larger orders within the United States.  We are partnering with GWEDG to help us in this endeavor.  They are already established in the camps in which we will be working and are going to be an enormous help with logistics, etc.  Halle and I were so excited we were sure sleep would not come easy, but after all of the excitement of the day, we were out before our heads hit our pillows.

**Day 3—Today**

 We woke up around 7:45am this morning with a very full day ahead of us.  Stop number one was at our beloved Maq Foods, for banana muffins and instant coffee.  Halle and I sat staring at each other, both wishing we were still in bed but knowing that we had a 9:30 meeting with Information for Youth Empowerment Programme (IYEP).  IYEP is the indigenous organization which we were trying to make Christmas cards with last year as a fund-raiser for IYEP last year.  Much to our chagrin, we did not get that project started soon enough so had to put the project on hold.  We have decided to partner with them on some other projects and wanted to meet with the staff to discuss logistics, funding, etc.  IYEP is such an amazing organization and I was so sad when we couldn’t get the Christmas card idea off the ground in time for the holidays last year, so I am ecstatic that we are planning early enough this year and working on some other projects with them.  The meeting was very successful and uplifting and seemed to give Halle and I the energy we needed to get through this incredibly long day.

After our meeting with IYEP, Halle and I walked back into town and headed for the market to make our appointment with Lucy.  Today was bank day!  We have been wanting to open a checking account for Lucy because I get very nervous giving her large sums of money in her stall each time I pick up an order.  Let me insert a thought here:  any time you think you have all of the documents needed to “easily” move through the bureaucracy here, just know that you are wrong.  We had Lucy’s identity card and four passport sized photos, but low and behold, we had to have a form letter from the bank signed by Lucy’s local council (LC) chair.  Good news is (and I hate to say that I’m pretty sure that this is because we were with Lucy and she did not go in alone) that all she needs to do now is deliver the signed letter to the bank on Tuesday and she will have a checking account! 

Following our visit with the bank, Halle and I went and met with Pamela at GWEDG to discuss our confirmed joint venture.  Halle had told me many times that I needed to meet this woman, but I had no idea.  Pamela is amazing!  She is proof to me that feminism does exist in Uganda.  I don’t even know what to say about her other than that I was in awe of her during the entire meeting. I am so excited to be working with her on this project.  She is going to be such an asset to One Mango Tree and to me!  I think one of the most exciting things about this on a personal level is that I think I have managed to narrow my focus for my dissertation based on today’s meeting, and I am hoping that now my work and my research can be combined.  This also gave me some new, and much needed inspiration.  I have been in a serious rut with school which as transferred into a serious rut with life.  One Mango Tree and then this grant, which has led to my meeting Pamela has all been so inspiring and is more than making up for what I am not getting at Makerere, but will also give me what I need in order to complete my program, hopefully. 

Following our meeting with GWEDG, I Halle and I returned to the market, I picked up my pants and ordered another pair and Halle and I picked up some of the finished One Mango Tree products. We headed back to Kakanyero with our loot, sweaty and exhausted but knowing that our days work was nowhere near finished.  Halle snatched up her laptop and headed for the internet café, and I (taking full advantage of the fact that there was actually running water) hopped in a more than welcome cold shower.  I had been wearing the same jeans since Tuesday and they had become visibly filthy, and having two “new” pair of pants to choose from, scrubbed myself down and poured myself in to my freshly altered slacks which I had previously had made in Gulu but subsequently lost too much weight to wear.  This whole process made me feel like a whole new Kate.  I sat freshly cleaned self down on my bed and proceeded to check my email.  Halle returned and said, “do you realize that all we’ve had to eat today are banana muffins?” and I said, “yes, and you’re going to have to carry me to dinner for I have no energy to walk”.  Halle looked at me and said, “we’re taking bodas”.  We hopped on two bodas and were on our way to Bomah.  We ordered dinner (at 4:30pm), scarfed it down and Halle went for a massage and hot shower. 

And now we are current.  Tomorrow we have a meeting in the morning with Lucy and Pamela (we will be introducing them for the first time and talking about the project) and then Halle and I will be going to Lucy’s home for the first time, our greatest honor so far.  This is why I am here.  This is why I’m in Uganda and as cheesy as it may sound, I think this is why I am on this Earth, and I cannot think of anything that would genuinely make me happier (except maybe a Super Target in Uganda).

I haven’t written in about one month.  I’m not totally sure why other than the fact that not much has happened.  Things have happened of course, but I haven’t been sure if I really wanted to write about them.  So…I will attempt to catch you all up in a very abridged version, and then move on to the unabridged version of the extremely exciting things which have taken place in the last few days.

I believe the last time I wrote anything the lecturers at Makerere were on strike.  Well, that ended and I started semester two of my masters program.  Some of the same lecturers and professors from last semester are teaching us again, such as Professor Beyaraza (the law professor who flails about with bulging eyes because the law, indeed, is extremely exciting), and my all time favorite, Professor Kateregga, my favorite religion professor on the planet.  The good news on the school front is that there are two new lecturers this semester who are really, really great!  My lecturer for Governance and Participation is the first lecturer that I have encountered here to use PowerPoint, and he does not just sit and read to us what he has written, he walks around discussing topics with us.  He emails us his PowerPoint presentations so that students actually listen and absorb the information as opposed to sitting there furiously writing the notes.  He even emails us various reading materials so I am able, at least for that lecture, to avoid the unorganized mess that inevitably occurs each time a lecturer gives the class one hard copy of a document and expects copies to be made for each student.  Now, if the class “representative” would choose one single method for disseminating these documents, it could work out alright, but this is Uganda and therefore it doesn’t.  My favorite class of the semester (surprise, surprise) is Gender and Conflict Transformation.  This class not only revolves around a topic I am obviously interested in, but comes complete with my first female lecturer and she is AWESOME.  Unfortunately we only have this class once a week, but Tuesday nights from 7-9pm are a very happy time in my life.  Well, perhaps happy isn’t the best word choice.  This may actually be my most difficult class.  I am more than familiar with the material up to this point, but I am familiar with the material in the West, not in Uganda.  I would not consider this culture to be exactly “pro women” (again, from a Western perspective) and my classmates, even the female ones, are not exactly “pro women” either.   If I were to comment on every astonishing reaction that I have witnessed from the African’s (Uganda, Rwandan, Sudanese) in my program we would be here for hours, so for the sake of time and patience (both yours and mine) I will give one broad example and one specific account of what I am dealing with here.  Any time a Ugandan is faced with an uncomfortable our “touchy” subject, be it genocide, rape or the issue of hermaphrodites, they laugh.  Laughing seems to be their coping mechanism.  They also laugh when they don’t understand what I am saying.  I know that laughing or making light of a situation is a pseudo-common coping mechanism, but here it seems to be 100%.  Maybe it is just that laughter is contagious so one person in class gets uncomfortable and laughs which spurs the rest of the class to erupt in laughter.  I don’t know, but it is something to get used to.  So therefore (and here is where we get in to the specific account), the topic of a woman’s control over her own body is grounds for hyperventilation.  Hyperventilation for the African students and absolute shock to the three bazungu (multiple whiteys) in the class.  Now I absolutely did not think for a second that anyone in the class would stand up and say that they are pro-choice when it comes to abortion, but we didn’t even get to that topic!  The discussion erupted over the fact that men felt that their wife’s body was theirs to do what they wish with, and the women seemed to agree!  Once you say “I do” your body is your husbands.  I brought up the concept of marital rape which everyone (save one Ugandan woman and my professor) insisted did not exist, at which point I defined rape for the class.  A couple of the guys in the class said that marital rape may exist in the United States but not in Uganda because there had never been a case in Ugandan courts.  I informed him that marital rape was in fact listed as a crime in the Ugandan Constitution and that it was a whole other problem if no cases had been taken to court because such a phenomenon exists worldwide.  That’s my gender class.

Many other school-related things have happened, but I would rather not get into them because they are all negative and I have decided to try as hard as I can to stop writing about all of the negative things at school (I think I’ve covered enough for today).  This is not to say that I will stop completely, but I’m trying to put a cap on my negativity because it generally does not make me any happier (though sometimes I must say it helps to vent).

I finally got my student visa! I won’t go in to what it took to finally obtain this very expensive stamp (trying to be less negative) but just know that I got it and I (fingers crossed) won’t have to deal with immigration for another year!  Awesome.

I guess one of the biggest pieces of news (aside from the post which will come next because it totally deserves its own entry) is that I have moved!  I have abandoned the nest that is La Fontaine in a very Western area for a much cheaper, and nicer apartment in a much more “Ugandan” neighborhood.  Yes, it is less conveniently located in terms of my mzungu “needs” but it is much quieter, much cleaner and will be very conducive to getting more done on my own academically (less distraction).  I moved in with my friend Jenny, but she will leave in June so I will likely be living there by myself.  The only downside is that I have to furnish the apartment, which here means providing your own stove, refrigerator, etc.  The initial investment is proving to be quite costly, but long-term I should be able to save quite a lot of money.  This is good.  It will allow me to stay here longer, which all complaints aside, I want to do (sorry Mom—and yes I remember, if the babies come I have to move back home). 

Shortly after moving, Halle (One Mango Tree) arrived on the 11^th to come work on One Mango Tree stuff which is awesome.  It is so great to see her.  I haven’t seen her since last August so we are officially getting the chance to sit down face-to-face (not via gmail chat) and work on work stuff (and of course have tons of fun together).  Last weekend was a little less fun, for me at least, because I guess as re-acclimation to the Ugandan diet I got giardia (a nice little parasite that makes you wish you were dead a little bit).  Halle and Colin (and One Tree Hill DVD’s) took excellent care of me, and I am now healthy and not only getting out of bed to rush to the bathroom. 

So now I am in Gulu with Halle, but this is where I need to start a new entry, for Gulu always deserves its own entry, especially this time.