Holiday Travels

Sorry, again, that it has been so long. This time I at least have the excuse of a internet modem gone wacky. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. It took a holiday in December. Even now it works for 2-20 hrs, then the computer can no longer detect it. So, I pull it out, fiddle with it, restart the computer, and cross my fingers. Which works about half the time.

So, I at least haven't been slacking completely, and was still writing, even if I wasn't posting anything. I'll go from oldest to youngest.

Nov 7th
The goats have been causing serious mischief around here. They ate my corn, greens, sweet potato and sunflower. They’re eating Matron’s corn and they started eating the tomatoes the students just planted in the school garden. Having attacked the students’ garden was a bad move on their part. They were dragged and carried to a vacant classroom where they’ve been locked up until their owner comes to pay. Maybe their owner will consider tying them up? Maybe. I told the students they should eat one if they catch it five times. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.

Nov 11th
Today on the way home I had the joy of taking a taxi that got a flat tire about a quarter of the way home. Luckily, they had a spare (a good idea around here), but no jack. Within a minute they had hailed another taxi which did have a jack. Meanwhile, the driver had found some big rocks, and I'm standing there thinking, oh good, he'll put them behind the tires to make sure the vehicle doesn't start rolling into one of the 20 kids who had come to gawk. Then he goes and sticks one under the flat tire. I become very puzzled. He jumps in the vehicle and drives up onto the rock. The other guy arrives with the jack and starts to put it into place, having very little work to do, now that the tire is already 3 inches off the ground. They both remove the tire and then the driver tightens the bolts as the conductor removes the jack. In the end I think the longest part of the delay was getting all the passengers out and then back into the vehicle.


Also, a girl on the bus misplaced her money in all of the fuss. She'd had 2,500Ush which was her fare home and a lot of money for a villager (just to give you an idea corn flour is 1,200/kilo, rice is 1,600/kilo, tomatoes are 2 for 100, onions 1,500/kilo). This became the talk of the taxi on the way back with everyone wondering what would happen to her when she got to her destination. I kept quiet for most of it, but couldn't help saying that if we contributed 500Ush (25cents) we'd easily be able to cover her fee. Some seemed skeptical, as they were staying on longer and there was a hope to recover the money. But I chipped in 500, and another Ugandan followed suit. Charity is rare here, as everyone has such big families, that while they may be generous it doesn't usually extend beyond their 'family' (which is a very loose term), so this young man's gesture surprised me.


Dec 16th
So it's the holiday here and things are a bit quiet. I took this as an excuse to join up with some (okay, many) volunteers down near Masaka for a friendly competition with JICA volunteers (the Japanese form of Peace Corps). There were about 40 PCVs, 20 JICA volunteers and a good number of curious Ugandans. We competed in two sports: soccer and baseball. Can you guess the outcome? We creamed them in soccer; they creamed us in baseball. We're sad representations of American sports culture. We also played a little football, frisbee, and someone even turned up with a slack line. For a moment I thought I was back at CC (for people not lucky enough to have experienced a slack line it's a one inch strip of webbing that you suspend 2+ feet above the ground and then walk along. Weird? Maybe. Fun? Yes).
In the spirit of sharing cultures we cooked one meal and JICA cooked the other. So, what do Americans and Japanese cook to give a taste of their county? Well, we cooked burritos and they cooked curry. Okay, so they also cooked Tamkatzu (sp?) which is a kind of breaded pork that is really good and definitely Japanese.


Dec 22nd
Do you know what sound a goat makes? Baaa? That's a sheep. A goat sounds like a kid. And not the animal kind. Goats on their way to market sound like little children crying their hearts out. Most market days I hear a couple being carried in baskets on the back of bicycles. Today, however, is different. Christmas is Friday and everyone wants to sell their goat to buy chicken for their family, or has sold something else and wants to buy a goat for their family. Which means I've been listening to a steady stream of crying children go by my house all morning. I love vegetarians.


Dec25th
I woke up early, which is not unusual for me, and certainly not on Christmas (I mean, what kid isn't always waiting at the top of the stairs by 6am, wondering about the presents at the bottom?). I did not sweep, mop, or go for water. I put on some Christmas music, made a cup of coffee, and sat down to finally open my presents after having stared at them sitting in a drawer for the last month or so. A chocolate bar, earrings, some good books wrapped in bits of a topographical map of Denver (which was way too much fun to put together), celestial seasons tea, and a beautiful skirt. I then took out my presents for my neighbors and wrapped them in the paper I'd just unwrapped from my own gifts. Reuse at it's finest. After dancing around in my new skirt for a while I called up my family who were just finishing up Christmas Eve dinner. 3 aunts, 3 uncles, 5 cousins, 1 bro, 2 parents. 24 min. Not really time for serious conversations, but I was grinning from ear to ear just saying Merry Christmas to them all.

Madam Bena wasn't coming to get me till 12 so I putzed around the house, made gingerbread and experimented with mango-ginger spice bread (which actually didn't turn out too bad), and tried to figure out what to do with my now-not-so-short hair. Somehow the last few days have been cool, cloudy, and occasionally rainy. Kinda weird given it's supposed to be hot and dry in December, but I'm not complaining. It also meant I could stand the idea of wearing my hair down. When Madam Bena arrived the gingerbread had just finished cooking and we wandered over to her place where I chatted with her various family and friends, smiled back at children who couldn't decided whether to be curious or nervous, and ate some delicious food. One girl's trousers were giving her trouble; they kept falling down. I asked another girl to bring me some banana fibers so I could make her a belt, called the girl over, all set to try and help her. I had barely put the fiber through 1 belt loop when she started crying; she would have nothing to do with it.

I left their place in a light mist which turned to full on rain by the time I was halfway home so I ran the rest of the way but was secretly delighted to get soaked. I found a small neighbor sitting in my mango tree trying to keep dry. He was inside my house as soon as I opened the door. So, in-between trying to catch water in buckets, we played cards. I don't know what game we played, and we never really stated the rules, but somehow we managed to agree on what was allowed and what was not.

When the rain eased up I headed to Mr Okots', Evelyns' and then Madam Rita's (where I found Mt Okot just finishing tea). Just for the curious I figure I should tell you something about all these people I'm talking about. Madam Bena is the school secretary. Mr Okot is a history teacher/in charge of the boys' hostel/one of my closest neighbors. He also has 7 kids he looks after: Jennifer who just finished S.6; Denis who was in my S.5 biology class; Oscar who just finished S.4; Barbara who was in S.3; Dorine who's studying in Jinja and was in P.5?6?; and the twins Michael (P.5) and Dick (P.4) who both stay in the hostel at a nearby primary school. Madam Everlyn is the school's bursar. She's from Kenya and has three kids: Patience (9?), Gemima (5?) and Sammy (1). She's also looking after her youngest brother, Bishop, who's the same age as Patience. We always have a lot to talk about, partly because I think she's just a very strong, opinionated woman and partly because we are both foreigners in this town. Madam Rita is an English teacher/in charge of the girls' hostel. She looks after 4 kids: Jeremiah (P.2), Fred (P.7), Mercy (S.3) and Gladys (S.1?) all of whom I just adore.


Needless to say, I had a great time at all of their houses, and was glad I had decided to stay around for Christmas.


Jan 1st (from Sipi Falls)
I have finally acquired a thermometer. I would never have guessed how hard it would be to find a thermometer to measure air temperature. I guess if the temperature never varies more than 20 degrees, all you really care about is whether it's hot, warm, or cold. Thanks to a very kind PCV who was not using his, I now have a small thermometer that informed me that while I was almost shivering, wearing fleece pants and a fleece jacket, warming up my hands with a cup of hot coffee, and thinking about the hat in my tent, it was a balmy 60 degrees outside. And to think I use to walk around Colorado wearing flip flops when it was 30 degrees. I've gone soft.


Jan 2nd
This morning I heard a small "kodi" at my door and found a boy who I had never seen before standing there and very politely greeting me, wishing me a happy new year and then telling me something that I couldn't understand the least of. After me getting him to repeat himself about ten times, and asking about 20 random questions I ascertained that his family's cow has escaped, that it was the one that was standing over there, looking remarkably like my neighbor's, and that he had come to get it back. Feeling slightly nervous, I stood there awkwardly for a while, not wanting to say he could, but not knowing what else to say, and partially thinking he would just go, get the cow, and leave (as I really couldn't give him my permission, especially as there may be some fees they would have to pay if it really had escaped and had been on the school grounds for a while, as that's what we do with the goats that are always sneaking in). Well, he just stood there, and I just stood there, wondering what in the world he wanted. Finally I just said "balamuse" (greet them, the traditional goodbye which means give my greetings to the people at home/there), and he immediately headed off towards the cow. I guess he was just wanting for me, the elder to end the conversation, while I was wanting for him, the one who knew what was going on and had started the conversation, to end the conversation. A nice early morning stand-off.


Jan 3rd

A quote from Fred, commenting on why he didn't cry when he broke his arm.
"I broke my arm myself. Now who was I going to cry for?"


The setting for this was that Michael, one of Mr Okot's kids, just broke his arm. Well, they told me it's dislocated, but he can still bend his elbow just fine...
It's been interesting for me to see how different medicine is here. They've been taking him to see an old lady who obviously knows what she's doing, and seems to be setting the arm by pushing and squeezing it, and (this is my speculation) feeling the bones and making sure they are where they're supposed to be. The first couple times we took him 4 of us had to hold him down while she did this. After the second day she told us to get him some Valium. 5 cents for 4 pills. Each time we go he's in less pain, and now he doesn't even need anyone to hold him. And his arm is getting better; it's less swollen, and less painful.
I'd still take modern medicine.