I’m home safely. I’m fine, except I got a small cold in the first few days. Oh, and my phone isn’t working. The touch screen went bezerk and I tried to fix it over the phone with customer service, but that only worked to make it so I couldn’t even turn the phone on. yay helpful customer service.
It’s a little odd being home in the states. The streets are so empty and its cold here. I inhaled the first cheeseburger I got. I have driven, but I’m a little rusty on stateside rules of driving. Oh, and I bought beer, but the cashier almost didn’t let me have the beer because she didn’t recognize me from my ID. Oi.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
New airport story
I have a history of interesting airport stories. I’m glad to announce I have a new one to add to the list. Thankfully this one doesn’t include any slingshots. I pack with my usual strategy to get everything home without having to pay fees for overweight luggage. The key is to pack most of the weight in the carry-on. well, at least that is the key in American domestic flights. And of course I brought my drum not knowing exactly how to get it on the plane but figuring I would take it as a carry-on. most of the workers accompanied Bryce and Andrew to take me to the airport. Maureen cried when I left. That made me sad to leave her with all those guys.
Anyways, they dropped me off with all my bags to navigate the Entebbe airport on my own. Fun times. I entered the line to go thru security with all my bags. That took a while since when my turn came to put my bags thru, they had to restart the machine since they said one of the previous bags had knocked the scanner inside. that got my vote of confidence. At the check in counter they told me I couldn’t take my drum as a carry-on. “ok, what can we do?” “Well, lets weigh your carry-on.” “you want to do what? why would you weigh my carry-on?” so we weighed it. “you need to check that bag, its too heavy.” “I cant do that, it has all my valuables in it.” I ended up putting most of the weight from my carry-on to the checked baggage. But I had to get my drum wrapped – a service they offered for a nice fee of $5. But they don’t take cards, even if you don’t have any cash. And as I was talking with the guy, another security guy brought my smaller bag over which had split a seam saying that they wouldn’t accept it till I got it wrapped also.
So I went out thru security, in thru the other security, down the stairs, took cash out, went back upstairs, out thru security, in thru security and back over to the wrapping dude. I handed him 20,000 ugs. He said he needed 3,000 more but I didn’t have that so I just handed him the last 2 American dollars I had. He didn’t look happy so I told him in no uncertain terms that that would work. He grudgingly wrapped my bag and drum. I took them back to the counter to trade for my carry-on and passport.
Next step was to go thru the passport check. And the woman found an issue with my passport and asked if I would pay the fine one that. “that depends on how much the fine is.” “$900” “nope, I don’t have that kind of money.” “can you go to Kampala and fix this then come back?” “that’s an hour and a half away and then back again, my plane leaves in an hour and half. Also, its nighttime. No, I cant.” So they decided I had to get a new visa so they could let me out of the country. Ok, whatever, that’s only $50. So a guard took me back out thru security, in thru the other security, down the stairs, thru the customs area, and into an office with another woman obviously having visa problems also. And we waited. Apparently we had to wait for the officers checking all the people off the last flight. …ok. The other woman and I both worried about making our flight which left soon. Finally one officer came in and helped the woman. “What’s wrong with your belt?” “I got sick of taking it off going thru security, so I just hung it around my neck.” Then he sat down to chat with another employee saying I had to wait for the other officer. After a few minutes I turned to him and asked if he could help me. I explained the trouble and we touched on the same points as the woman upstairs. Finally he said, “so you admit the mistake?” well duh. I cant not admit something plainly stated in the paperwork. Eventually he told me I was forgiven.
Ok, go back up the stairs, out thru security, back in thru security, and back up the line to the woman behind the glass. I told her the other guy had forgiven me and she let me go this time.
I’m happy to say I didn’t have any more actual trouble after that. just lots of waiting and waiting in lines. Oh, and the ironic thing? I went thru security about 12 times. and when I got home, I found a steak knife in my carry-on that I had forgotten about. Good job security.
Anyways, they dropped me off with all my bags to navigate the Entebbe airport on my own. Fun times. I entered the line to go thru security with all my bags. That took a while since when my turn came to put my bags thru, they had to restart the machine since they said one of the previous bags had knocked the scanner inside. that got my vote of confidence. At the check in counter they told me I couldn’t take my drum as a carry-on. “ok, what can we do?” “Well, lets weigh your carry-on.” “you want to do what? why would you weigh my carry-on?” so we weighed it. “you need to check that bag, its too heavy.” “I cant do that, it has all my valuables in it.” I ended up putting most of the weight from my carry-on to the checked baggage. But I had to get my drum wrapped – a service they offered for a nice fee of $5. But they don’t take cards, even if you don’t have any cash. And as I was talking with the guy, another security guy brought my smaller bag over which had split a seam saying that they wouldn’t accept it till I got it wrapped also.
So I went out thru security, in thru the other security, down the stairs, took cash out, went back upstairs, out thru security, in thru security and back over to the wrapping dude. I handed him 20,000 ugs. He said he needed 3,000 more but I didn’t have that so I just handed him the last 2 American dollars I had. He didn’t look happy so I told him in no uncertain terms that that would work. He grudgingly wrapped my bag and drum. I took them back to the counter to trade for my carry-on and passport.
Next step was to go thru the passport check. And the woman found an issue with my passport and asked if I would pay the fine one that. “that depends on how much the fine is.” “$900” “nope, I don’t have that kind of money.” “can you go to Kampala and fix this then come back?” “that’s an hour and a half away and then back again, my plane leaves in an hour and half. Also, its nighttime. No, I cant.” So they decided I had to get a new visa so they could let me out of the country. Ok, whatever, that’s only $50. So a guard took me back out thru security, in thru the other security, down the stairs, thru the customs area, and into an office with another woman obviously having visa problems also. And we waited. Apparently we had to wait for the officers checking all the people off the last flight. …ok. The other woman and I both worried about making our flight which left soon. Finally one officer came in and helped the woman. “What’s wrong with your belt?” “I got sick of taking it off going thru security, so I just hung it around my neck.” Then he sat down to chat with another employee saying I had to wait for the other officer. After a few minutes I turned to him and asked if he could help me. I explained the trouble and we touched on the same points as the woman upstairs. Finally he said, “so you admit the mistake?” well duh. I cant not admit something plainly stated in the paperwork. Eventually he told me I was forgiven.
Ok, go back up the stairs, out thru security, back in thru security, and back up the line to the woman behind the glass. I told her the other guy had forgiven me and she let me go this time.
I’m happy to say I didn’t have any more actual trouble after that. just lots of waiting and waiting in lines. Oh, and the ironic thing? I went thru security about 12 times. and when I got home, I found a steak knife in my carry-on that I had forgotten about. Good job security.
safari
I haven’t gotten around to telling you all about my safari. Let me do so now. It was awesome. The drive of the first day wasn’t so great. We left the site late for various African reasons and headed west with Moses one of the workers. At one point in Kampala I looked out the window to take in the scenery and found a sheep staring at me. That was a bit disconcerting. Even more so since we were moving at a good clip and it remained staring at me from 3 feet away. That’s when I realized a boda with 2 men were carrying the sheep down the road. At least it wasn’t a chicken this time. We planned our first destination to be Moses’ house to eat dinner with his family. Very nice people. Especially since they waited for 4 hours to feed us. Construction in Uganda really slows traffic. And we crossed the equator. And the guys saw zebras while I slept. Oi. Finally arrived in Ibanda around 10 instead of 6. They fed us a feast of food and introduced us to the entire family. Then we slept in a hotel for about 5 hours. The attendants asked us twice if we were sure we needed 2 separate rooms.
6am we got up and started driving towards queen Elizabeth park. Western Uganda is beautiful. We actually found mist so thick that we worried we might miss the turn-off. Awesome after being drenched with humid heat for several months. When the mist did part, tea plantations stretch for miles over actual hills. Tea bushes are a strong emerald color, even without the sun hitting them. Banana trees grow in small forests. Gorgeous. Bryce isn’t one to stop on a road trip, but we pulled over several times to take pictures. Hills, hills, and more hills. Then, as I looked between the trees for the hillside next to us, it wasn’t there. Instead a flat plain several hundred feet below us stretched out to the horizon. Perfectly flat. We descended the final hill and drove down the road, passing people pushing bicycles with 4 or 6 stalks of matoke. Insane. We saw monkeys and herds of water buffalo which are quite rare. Usually you only see solitary males.
We turned down the dirt road with a sign and immediately found out that American washboard roads cant compare to washboards in Uganda. Bryce’s whole body vibrated from holding the steering wheel as he tried to miss all these little duck-birds and the large potholes. Finally found the actual park entrance and hired a guide. then we had to go find the guide who was coming back from another trip with tourists. He took us to another part where he had shown others a pride of lions.
We saw the lions. We found the momma lion as we drove 10 feet from her shady sleeping spot. We stopped to take pictures and she reared back on her haunches ready to pounce on this metallic thing which interrupted her nap. Wild lions are big. And actually wild, you can see it in their eyes. I have seen lions in a zoo, I became bored because that was the look in their eyes. Boredom and apathy. But these lions didn’t look like that at all. our guide kept saying “take photos fast then we go” in a high pitched voice like he was scared of this situation. We also found a young lion in a cactus tree. We stopped to take photos of that one also. It didn’t look like it wanted a fight, but rather that it really wanted to get away but couldn’t figure out how to move quickly from its perch in the cactus.
We also saw crested eagles and warthogs and impalas and random birds. Like the spotted mouse bird. That’s when Bryce decided to call me mousy. I must say that is a first. I don’t really consider myself mousy. Then the guide took us to the village inside the park so we could have a boat ride. We surprised him when we refused to have a boat ride, our excuse was that we build boats, why would that be such an attraction to us? Oh, and I watched a little kid beat Bryce at cards. Not once, but several times. I had to get pictures of that. the fishing village lives next to the group of hippos. They look kinda like rocks out in the water which randomly open a large mouth with funny teeth.
Oh, I got a good burger at the park lodge. I saw it on the menu and decided to take the risk. Risks are sometimes richly rewarded. I tried not to show my enjoyment too much since Bryce looked very envious at my rich reward. We sat there listening to the groups of mzungus talking amongst themselves. We tried to guess their nationality but honestly we felt very uncomfortable being around them because of the way they acted towards the Ugandans serving them. Nothing exactly bad, but we could see the superiority complex playing out in their body language. Also listening to them plan how to fix Ugandan problems with western ideals sounded ludicrous to our ears.
That night we stayed in fort portal at a small hotel. The bar upstairs was names the parrot bar. Guess why? Two large gray parrots live in a cage next to the door squawking loudly. Annoying birds. At least they shut up for the nighttime. Bryce and I found decent pizza for dinner then went back to the parrot bar for drinks, cigars, and pool. I’m still horrible at pool. But losing at pool seems less problematic when smoking a cigar.
Next day we drove back to Kampala and Entebbe. More construction. Kinda funny seeing the process of putting in culverts? Under the road everyone is driving on. Bryce and I don’t have the same reactions to anything. Take our reactions to returning to the site after a 2 day trip. Bryce felt “refreshed”. I felt revived enough to feel the impending doom of returning to the site. Bryce and I just don’t work on the same tracks.
6am we got up and started driving towards queen Elizabeth park. Western Uganda is beautiful. We actually found mist so thick that we worried we might miss the turn-off. Awesome after being drenched with humid heat for several months. When the mist did part, tea plantations stretch for miles over actual hills. Tea bushes are a strong emerald color, even without the sun hitting them. Banana trees grow in small forests. Gorgeous. Bryce isn’t one to stop on a road trip, but we pulled over several times to take pictures. Hills, hills, and more hills. Then, as I looked between the trees for the hillside next to us, it wasn’t there. Instead a flat plain several hundred feet below us stretched out to the horizon. Perfectly flat. We descended the final hill and drove down the road, passing people pushing bicycles with 4 or 6 stalks of matoke. Insane. We saw monkeys and herds of water buffalo which are quite rare. Usually you only see solitary males.
We turned down the dirt road with a sign and immediately found out that American washboard roads cant compare to washboards in Uganda. Bryce’s whole body vibrated from holding the steering wheel as he tried to miss all these little duck-birds and the large potholes. Finally found the actual park entrance and hired a guide. then we had to go find the guide who was coming back from another trip with tourists. He took us to another part where he had shown others a pride of lions.
We saw the lions. We found the momma lion as we drove 10 feet from her shady sleeping spot. We stopped to take pictures and she reared back on her haunches ready to pounce on this metallic thing which interrupted her nap. Wild lions are big. And actually wild, you can see it in their eyes. I have seen lions in a zoo, I became bored because that was the look in their eyes. Boredom and apathy. But these lions didn’t look like that at all. our guide kept saying “take photos fast then we go” in a high pitched voice like he was scared of this situation. We also found a young lion in a cactus tree. We stopped to take photos of that one also. It didn’t look like it wanted a fight, but rather that it really wanted to get away but couldn’t figure out how to move quickly from its perch in the cactus.
We also saw crested eagles and warthogs and impalas and random birds. Like the spotted mouse bird. That’s when Bryce decided to call me mousy. I must say that is a first. I don’t really consider myself mousy. Then the guide took us to the village inside the park so we could have a boat ride. We surprised him when we refused to have a boat ride, our excuse was that we build boats, why would that be such an attraction to us? Oh, and I watched a little kid beat Bryce at cards. Not once, but several times. I had to get pictures of that. the fishing village lives next to the group of hippos. They look kinda like rocks out in the water which randomly open a large mouth with funny teeth.
Oh, I got a good burger at the park lodge. I saw it on the menu and decided to take the risk. Risks are sometimes richly rewarded. I tried not to show my enjoyment too much since Bryce looked very envious at my rich reward. We sat there listening to the groups of mzungus talking amongst themselves. We tried to guess their nationality but honestly we felt very uncomfortable being around them because of the way they acted towards the Ugandans serving them. Nothing exactly bad, but we could see the superiority complex playing out in their body language. Also listening to them plan how to fix Ugandan problems with western ideals sounded ludicrous to our ears.
That night we stayed in fort portal at a small hotel. The bar upstairs was names the parrot bar. Guess why? Two large gray parrots live in a cage next to the door squawking loudly. Annoying birds. At least they shut up for the nighttime. Bryce and I found decent pizza for dinner then went back to the parrot bar for drinks, cigars, and pool. I’m still horrible at pool. But losing at pool seems less problematic when smoking a cigar.
Next day we drove back to Kampala and Entebbe. More construction. Kinda funny seeing the process of putting in culverts? Under the road everyone is driving on. Bryce and I don’t have the same reactions to anything. Take our reactions to returning to the site after a 2 day trip. Bryce felt “refreshed”. I felt revived enough to feel the impending doom of returning to the site. Bryce and I just don’t work on the same tracks.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
another update
Andrew has come here for several weeks. Let me back up and tell you why. Jon-Paul returned home safely and promptly became extremely ill. He lost a lot of weight and eventually went to the hospital. Various special doctors and others tried for several days to figure out what he had. A special disease doctor called him a puzzle. That’s not usually a good sign. Neither is seeing doctors in hasmat suites tending to a patient. But that’s what happened. Im glad to report they finally did figure out what was wrong. He has several parasites and his body reacted strongly to them because he is allergic to them. I doubt he will risk meeting those parasites again.
Bob is also sick, tho not nearly as sick as Jon-Paul was. he also does not know what disease he has yet. hopefully he will find out soon and get better quickly so that he can come back here. Whenever someone mentions bob, the others look hopeful as someone asks when he will come back.
We needed more people here. Thus, Andrew is here now. The first morning I found him sitting outside my door when I stumbled out sleepy eyed. He had been up most of the night with jet-lag. Btw, his hair is longer than mine. I chopped half my hair off a few weeks ago. It now ends at my chin level and is mostly blonde again. But his hair is long and there is so much of it that it sticks out from the top of his head towards the sides. Kinda funny looking actually. His first day here he experienced a thunderstorm and after seeing the toilets (or lack there of), built a makeshift toilet. Presently, he and Bryce are exploring the Kampala drinking scene. And they took the internet modem with them. Sigh.
The boat is mostly together as far as the structure. We lifted up the roofs last week. Now we tell the Ugandans that it has finished growing. Everyone is learning so fast. Carpentry, fiber glassing, planning, and most important to this line of work, problem-solving. I still have to repeat myself often, enunciating every word to be sure they understand. But that I can deal with.
I have decided to return home early. As in, on the 24th of august. When I heard how sick Jon-Paul was, I got myself tested for anything I could possibly have just to make sure I didn’t have some hidden disease ready to flair up as soon as I got home. Clean bill of health. Yay. But I am tired. A deep abiding fatigue no matter how much I try to sleep. This place isn’t very conducive to sleeping in in the morning either. Im tired of dealing, of being away from my family and friends. Of being here with a bunch of guys day in and day out. And Maureen, cant forget Maureen. But it just isn’t home. It cant be my home. People come here and say they leave their heart in Uganda or Africa. Im sitting here saying I left my heart in America. Seattle to be exact. I wanna go home now. It might be just for a break, but its time.
I thought it might be a good idea to change my ticket, then I rethought, then yes, then no. for several days I struggled with the pros and cons of this decision. I found the actual usefulness of fasting (just don’t do it the day your favorite food is cooked). I had people in America saying to come home. And people here practically begging me not to leave. But in the end I decided to actually take care of myself so that I can keep going in the long-term instead of sacrificing everything for the short term deadline. So I asked my bosses to co-ordinate with my parents to get me home soon. Its amazing what can be accomplished with a few phone calls if you have enough incentive. And getting their daughter home apparently was enough incentive for my parents. Ready Seattle? Here I come. Brown, blonde, and hopefully changed for the better. So if you want to see me, send an email or call when I get back.
Bob is also sick, tho not nearly as sick as Jon-Paul was. he also does not know what disease he has yet. hopefully he will find out soon and get better quickly so that he can come back here. Whenever someone mentions bob, the others look hopeful as someone asks when he will come back.
We needed more people here. Thus, Andrew is here now. The first morning I found him sitting outside my door when I stumbled out sleepy eyed. He had been up most of the night with jet-lag. Btw, his hair is longer than mine. I chopped half my hair off a few weeks ago. It now ends at my chin level and is mostly blonde again. But his hair is long and there is so much of it that it sticks out from the top of his head towards the sides. Kinda funny looking actually. His first day here he experienced a thunderstorm and after seeing the toilets (or lack there of), built a makeshift toilet. Presently, he and Bryce are exploring the Kampala drinking scene. And they took the internet modem with them. Sigh.
The boat is mostly together as far as the structure. We lifted up the roofs last week. Now we tell the Ugandans that it has finished growing. Everyone is learning so fast. Carpentry, fiber glassing, planning, and most important to this line of work, problem-solving. I still have to repeat myself often, enunciating every word to be sure they understand. But that I can deal with.
I have decided to return home early. As in, on the 24th of august. When I heard how sick Jon-Paul was, I got myself tested for anything I could possibly have just to make sure I didn’t have some hidden disease ready to flair up as soon as I got home. Clean bill of health. Yay. But I am tired. A deep abiding fatigue no matter how much I try to sleep. This place isn’t very conducive to sleeping in in the morning either. Im tired of dealing, of being away from my family and friends. Of being here with a bunch of guys day in and day out. And Maureen, cant forget Maureen. But it just isn’t home. It cant be my home. People come here and say they leave their heart in Uganda or Africa. Im sitting here saying I left my heart in America. Seattle to be exact. I wanna go home now. It might be just for a break, but its time.
I thought it might be a good idea to change my ticket, then I rethought, then yes, then no. for several days I struggled with the pros and cons of this decision. I found the actual usefulness of fasting (just don’t do it the day your favorite food is cooked). I had people in America saying to come home. And people here practically begging me not to leave. But in the end I decided to actually take care of myself so that I can keep going in the long-term instead of sacrificing everything for the short term deadline. So I asked my bosses to co-ordinate with my parents to get me home soon. Its amazing what can be accomplished with a few phone calls if you have enough incentive. And getting their daughter home apparently was enough incentive for my parents. Ready Seattle? Here I come. Brown, blonde, and hopefully changed for the better. So if you want to see me, send an email or call when I get back.
henry and hair
So I went to visit Henry and Leonard in Kampala a few weekends ago. I needed to get away from everyone I live with. That, and I had to pick up my power cord which was being repaired. So I stayed with Henry. Henry is awesome. I had no idea I needed to talk with him and hear what he had to say until half-way thru the conversation. Apparently Hildegard von Bingen is more than a writer of music in medieval times. cool. I needed a dose of good strong wisdom. I needed a fresh perspective. I needed to borrow someone else’s lenses for a bit. I didn’t sleep much that night, but I rested more than if I had slept for 20 hours. Some people just have that sort of presence which radiates peace so that those around them can rest. Even if they are running around doing a dozen things, a deep peace pervades where they are, whispering that it is ok, already taken care of is such a quiet whisper that only the soul can hear it. And after you leave them, you realize how precious that time was. I like those people a lot, even if I only know them for a short time.
Oh, I also cooked breakfast for dinner for that household. No one else besides Henry knew how to make an omelet. Oi. And the Ugandans all ate a side dish of rice and vegetables next to the omelet. I don’t understand these people some days. That night I got so sick of trying to keep my hair healthy and failing miserably at it. So I took my scissors and sitting in from of the only full size mirror I know of, chopped my hair off. Right at the chin level. It doesn’t look half bad actually. Sadly its too short to collect into a pony tail so I wear it down and curly now. The next weekend I searched Kampala for hair clips, but no luck. So I walked into a tailor shop and asked if they had any plain color fabric strips. I paid 50 cents for some red cloth to tie around my head. The person selling it to me could not understand what I wanted it for. Yay for being a crazy mzungu.
Oh, I also cooked breakfast for dinner for that household. No one else besides Henry knew how to make an omelet. Oi. And the Ugandans all ate a side dish of rice and vegetables next to the omelet. I don’t understand these people some days. That night I got so sick of trying to keep my hair healthy and failing miserably at it. So I took my scissors and sitting in from of the only full size mirror I know of, chopped my hair off. Right at the chin level. It doesn’t look half bad actually. Sadly its too short to collect into a pony tail so I wear it down and curly now. The next weekend I searched Kampala for hair clips, but no luck. So I walked into a tailor shop and asked if they had any plain color fabric strips. I paid 50 cents for some red cloth to tie around my head. The person selling it to me could not understand what I wanted it for. Yay for being a crazy mzungu.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
one of those days 7-29-10
No, it wasn’t one of those days. That would admit that such days happen more often than they should, that is to say, sometimes. Days like this should never happen. Never ever.
We are building the boat in open air. I think most of you know that. And that works here in Uganda since the weather is perpetually summer. The heat of summer, the humidity of summer, the thunderstorms of summer. We have figured out which way the weather comes from so we keep a weather eye out for thunderstorms. Today dawned bright and sunny. A few clouds here and there, but that’s always the case.
The goal today was to get 4 of the 2nd floors epoxied together starting from the back and the bottom beam epoxied on. we got a shipment of epoxy yesterday so we had everything we needed. my patience has waned to the point of not being able to take…well, anything going wrong really. Floors, 5, 4, and 3 went on ok. Issues with drills and Ugandan screws aside, it went swimmingly. I worked on the floors with my team while Bryce and his team worked on the beam. Bryce says something about rain. I want to get floor 3 on before we tarp the thing since I see a very small cloud above us. And it goes together, and the raindrops get bigger, then they are everywhere. I yell for everyone to get the tarp over the boat fast. Not fast enough, but when its raining, its never enough. I look up again to see how long the rain will last, and all I see is gray in every direction. I cant see very far because of all the rain. What happened to the blue sky? Bryce comes up and we just look at each other as the rain starts coming between the floors we haven’t put together yet. right thru the tarp. I go out to check the rain, its still coming. And the tarp has blown off part of the boat. So Bryce and I clamp it down. where did this rain come from?!? I go to the other section and grab the corner and pull it down. I feel like I should be sailing with the tarp catching that much wind. Did I mention im soaked by this time? Don’t think about the rain pouring down your face and down into your already soaked shoes, just catch the sail and tie it down. Ask someone for a clamp, makes sure it wont fly up again. Then turn to the sky and yell at it. Give it the finger. Sing “oh Africa”. Go down and tell the workers they are free to go eat lunch if they want to brave the rain. Here I am, soaked several times over, telling the dry students hiding underneath the boat that they can go have food. Oi. Go back up and try to consol Bryce who is feeling sick with the situation.
For those of you who haven’t ever worked with epoxy, let me explain the situation. Water does not mix will with wet epoxy. We didn’t know how bad it might be for the epoxy. It could have been enywhere from ok to useless. The team back in America assured us that as long as the epoxy attached to the wood before the water soaked it, the epoxy is fine. And that’s what happened. But we didn’t know that at the time. We thought all our work that day might have to be redone. We sat there looking at a week of extra work to fix the issues one freak rainstorm dropped on us.
I had to jump in all the puddles on the way back to the dorm. Nothing else to do when the world rains on you like that. There is no explanation, no way, no words to explain the day. and our brain power had shorted with the sheer magnitude of our situation.
We are building the boat in open air. I think most of you know that. And that works here in Uganda since the weather is perpetually summer. The heat of summer, the humidity of summer, the thunderstorms of summer. We have figured out which way the weather comes from so we keep a weather eye out for thunderstorms. Today dawned bright and sunny. A few clouds here and there, but that’s always the case.
The goal today was to get 4 of the 2nd floors epoxied together starting from the back and the bottom beam epoxied on. we got a shipment of epoxy yesterday so we had everything we needed. my patience has waned to the point of not being able to take…well, anything going wrong really. Floors, 5, 4, and 3 went on ok. Issues with drills and Ugandan screws aside, it went swimmingly. I worked on the floors with my team while Bryce and his team worked on the beam. Bryce says something about rain. I want to get floor 3 on before we tarp the thing since I see a very small cloud above us. And it goes together, and the raindrops get bigger, then they are everywhere. I yell for everyone to get the tarp over the boat fast. Not fast enough, but when its raining, its never enough. I look up again to see how long the rain will last, and all I see is gray in every direction. I cant see very far because of all the rain. What happened to the blue sky? Bryce comes up and we just look at each other as the rain starts coming between the floors we haven’t put together yet. right thru the tarp. I go out to check the rain, its still coming. And the tarp has blown off part of the boat. So Bryce and I clamp it down. where did this rain come from?!? I go to the other section and grab the corner and pull it down. I feel like I should be sailing with the tarp catching that much wind. Did I mention im soaked by this time? Don’t think about the rain pouring down your face and down into your already soaked shoes, just catch the sail and tie it down. Ask someone for a clamp, makes sure it wont fly up again. Then turn to the sky and yell at it. Give it the finger. Sing “oh Africa”. Go down and tell the workers they are free to go eat lunch if they want to brave the rain. Here I am, soaked several times over, telling the dry students hiding underneath the boat that they can go have food. Oi. Go back up and try to consol Bryce who is feeling sick with the situation.
For those of you who haven’t ever worked with epoxy, let me explain the situation. Water does not mix will with wet epoxy. We didn’t know how bad it might be for the epoxy. It could have been enywhere from ok to useless. The team back in America assured us that as long as the epoxy attached to the wood before the water soaked it, the epoxy is fine. And that’s what happened. But we didn’t know that at the time. We thought all our work that day might have to be redone. We sat there looking at a week of extra work to fix the issues one freak rainstorm dropped on us.
I had to jump in all the puddles on the way back to the dorm. Nothing else to do when the world rains on you like that. There is no explanation, no way, no words to explain the day. and our brain power had shorted with the sheer magnitude of our situation.
Update;7-26-10
So we have the economy cabin reassembled. That’s the first story of the ferry. The boat looks fairly strange with all the joints waiting for fiberglass. The second floors sit leaning up against each other on top of the boat. Each day we get closer to the end. We have started the part where we cut holes all over the boat for vents and water intakes. After I pushed the first piece out I yelled “stop blowing holes in my boat!” it seemed fitting all things considered.
The student interns we have hired are all Ugandan engineers freshly graduated from university. But none save one have ever held a job. So basically they have the theories of how things work in their brain but have never seen the actual functioning. They have the work experience of most American 16yos (which is to say, none) but a much higher maturity level. It’s very interesting to teach them carpentry and how to use tools. We have had some interesting times when we ask for a tool by name and they give us a blank look instead. It isn’t even a specialized tool either. It’s just that they either have never heard of the tool, or they have never heard our name for it. Things like an open ended wrench (they call it a spanner), or a Phillips screwdriver (plus-sign or star, as opposed to minus sign). We informed them that actual star screwdrivers are different. Unfortunately, it’s the same with all our Ugandan workers, not just the students. I inventoried the tools one day with a worker. I would call out the name, and how to spell it, and he would write it down and also on a little cheat sheet which he took home and memorized.
So our group here has changed a bit. Only Bryce and I remain of the Americans. Jon-Paul and Rob both left last week. Our cook has stayed with us, and we have elevated her title to goddess of all things edible and tasty. We have Nicholas our faithful foreman and interpreter who lives nearby. Francis also lives nearby, but should not be confused with mo-zay (old man) Francis who is our driver. He prefers to clean the car at least 2x a week in his spare time even though we live on a dirt road. Then we have opus, who changes his hair style every week but wears a yellow bucket hat over it constantly to protect it.
Then our student interns. Paul, who I swear should have gone to seminary instead of becoming an electrical engineer. The guy talks constantly, either about scripture, or about how we need his help. he has one of the slenderest builds I have ever carried by a guy. Therein lies the joke when he offers his help to Bryce. The others are mechanical engineers. Chris, who has held a job and somehow has a very steady personality. He is quiet, but has a great sense of humor and irony. He shakes his head every time Paul starts talking again. Vianney, who is even quieter than Chris, and taller than the others. His English is the most understandable. Those two never complain, even though both have had malaria since meeting us. Then comes Moses, the small one. Blyce is arways his fliend, but blyce arways makes fun of his accent. All are faithful born again believers who don’t drink, smoke, or swear and don’t believe in spontaneity.
The last addition to our team here has been cloud (spelled Claude). He has traveled a bit and knows a bit about western culture which the others have somehow missed completely. Things like Rudolf the red nosed reindeer and Winnie the pooh and Zeus. He was a Buddhist monk in Thailand for a while, but has since decided to go with Catholicism out of respect for his family. He has asked how to read the bible so I supplied him with his first. His accent is the hardest to understand. Try to imagine a French African with elements of Thai and a southern twang.
I have gotten some interesting comments this week. “Julia, you must be half man.” Or “if only we were as peaceful as you look when you lie down.” I continue to surprise Ugandans for some reason.
Bryce and I get to go away next weekend to get a break. Western Uganda here we come. Hopefully we see the animals on a safari. My first African safari. Ill let you all know how it goes.
The student interns we have hired are all Ugandan engineers freshly graduated from university. But none save one have ever held a job. So basically they have the theories of how things work in their brain but have never seen the actual functioning. They have the work experience of most American 16yos (which is to say, none) but a much higher maturity level. It’s very interesting to teach them carpentry and how to use tools. We have had some interesting times when we ask for a tool by name and they give us a blank look instead. It isn’t even a specialized tool either. It’s just that they either have never heard of the tool, or they have never heard our name for it. Things like an open ended wrench (they call it a spanner), or a Phillips screwdriver (plus-sign or star, as opposed to minus sign). We informed them that actual star screwdrivers are different. Unfortunately, it’s the same with all our Ugandan workers, not just the students. I inventoried the tools one day with a worker. I would call out the name, and how to spell it, and he would write it down and also on a little cheat sheet which he took home and memorized.
So our group here has changed a bit. Only Bryce and I remain of the Americans. Jon-Paul and Rob both left last week. Our cook has stayed with us, and we have elevated her title to goddess of all things edible and tasty. We have Nicholas our faithful foreman and interpreter who lives nearby. Francis also lives nearby, but should not be confused with mo-zay (old man) Francis who is our driver. He prefers to clean the car at least 2x a week in his spare time even though we live on a dirt road. Then we have opus, who changes his hair style every week but wears a yellow bucket hat over it constantly to protect it.
Then our student interns. Paul, who I swear should have gone to seminary instead of becoming an electrical engineer. The guy talks constantly, either about scripture, or about how we need his help. he has one of the slenderest builds I have ever carried by a guy. Therein lies the joke when he offers his help to Bryce. The others are mechanical engineers. Chris, who has held a job and somehow has a very steady personality. He is quiet, but has a great sense of humor and irony. He shakes his head every time Paul starts talking again. Vianney, who is even quieter than Chris, and taller than the others. His English is the most understandable. Those two never complain, even though both have had malaria since meeting us. Then comes Moses, the small one. Blyce is arways his fliend, but blyce arways makes fun of his accent. All are faithful born again believers who don’t drink, smoke, or swear and don’t believe in spontaneity.
The last addition to our team here has been cloud (spelled Claude). He has traveled a bit and knows a bit about western culture which the others have somehow missed completely. Things like Rudolf the red nosed reindeer and Winnie the pooh and Zeus. He was a Buddhist monk in Thailand for a while, but has since decided to go with Catholicism out of respect for his family. He has asked how to read the bible so I supplied him with his first. His accent is the hardest to understand. Try to imagine a French African with elements of Thai and a southern twang.
I have gotten some interesting comments this week. “Julia, you must be half man.” Or “if only we were as peaceful as you look when you lie down.” I continue to surprise Ugandans for some reason.
Bryce and I get to go away next weekend to get a break. Western Uganda here we come. Hopefully we see the animals on a safari. My first African safari. Ill let you all know how it goes.
and im back
Sorry all. I have been away for a while. The internet shut off shortly after the bombings. Then when it did turn on again, my power cord had stopped working. No power to the comp. hence, no writing blog posts. So I have posted two very late posts that I wrote before all that happened. I have dated them so you have some idea when they were supposed to be posted.
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