So I walked into a grocery store here in the states last week with my mom. (I have passed the point where I run out of grocery stores, I have moved on to whatever the next stage is after that). I saw one of those box/barrel things holding pumpkins for sale. They had some really cool pumpkins along with the regular jack-o-lantern bright orange things. I prefer the pumpkins that resembled classical pictures, which is what I mean by really cool pumpkins. Upon closer inspection, I wondered about the edibility of this particular specimen.
What does it say about our culture that we decorate with food?
I remember carving pumpkins as a kid. I always wondered if the innards could be eaten. They are, but they don’t taste good. They actually breed pumpkins for the best jock-o-lanterns and others for actually eating. Wtf, mate? But its fairly easy to not think about that considering that they sell canned pumpkin to use in cooking. Americans don’t ever have to cook from scratch if they ever want to. We have canned pumpkin, or if that is way too much work, you can always just buy a pumpkin pie from any grocery store. They even shred lettuce for salads. Or mix shredded lettuce and various other veggies for premade salad. just don’t forget to add the serving bowl.
Ever wonder who “they” are? I do. A lot. Who are the people who make this food. More importantly, who are the people who think of these things?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
culture shock
so i'm still dealing with culture shock. i went thru an entire week of confusion, then i progressed to anti-consumerism. so far i have been in that for a week. i almost run out of big bargain stores which i used to have no problems with.
otherwise i have been resting, seeing people, and talking thru stuff. i know thats vague, but thats all you get for now. the rest is doing its good work on my system, i am beginning to feel less like a zombie and more like i can have a life.
i went down to portland monday and tuesday to see a friend. if you have never been down there, and you like seattle, you should go. its like a miniature seattle with more homeless people and less regulations. people can buy alcohol on weekends, and smokers can smoke in the city limits. i did see a lot of weird people tho, and one muttering about a black dude checking out a white girl and how the black dude should be taught a lesson. sadly, im not joking. but see the waterfront park and the several bridges; a river goes right thru the city. go see the little neighborhoods and the rose gardens.
i stayed in a hostel, my first time in a hostel. i didn't quite know what to expect but the experience pleasantly surprised me. and its fairly cheap. yay. i could travel and stay in hostels for months without getting bored. especially if all the cities i visited had places like powell's bookstore. its the worlds biggest book store. an entire city block. i was so overwhelmed i just wandered thru the aisles trying to remember any of the books i have been looking for. i bought 2. thats it. oh well.
i haven't heard much from uganda lately. im not working so i hear even less than the guys at work do. i still am not sure about whether i am going back. my boss and i are still discussing. more like i am waiting to hear if he think he needs me to go back. i will keep updating with any news i hear.
otherwise i have been resting, seeing people, and talking thru stuff. i know thats vague, but thats all you get for now. the rest is doing its good work on my system, i am beginning to feel less like a zombie and more like i can have a life.
i went down to portland monday and tuesday to see a friend. if you have never been down there, and you like seattle, you should go. its like a miniature seattle with more homeless people and less regulations. people can buy alcohol on weekends, and smokers can smoke in the city limits. i did see a lot of weird people tho, and one muttering about a black dude checking out a white girl and how the black dude should be taught a lesson. sadly, im not joking. but see the waterfront park and the several bridges; a river goes right thru the city. go see the little neighborhoods and the rose gardens.
i stayed in a hostel, my first time in a hostel. i didn't quite know what to expect but the experience pleasantly surprised me. and its fairly cheap. yay. i could travel and stay in hostels for months without getting bored. especially if all the cities i visited had places like powell's bookstore. its the worlds biggest book store. an entire city block. i was so overwhelmed i just wandered thru the aisles trying to remember any of the books i have been looking for. i bought 2. thats it. oh well.
i haven't heard much from uganda lately. im not working so i hear even less than the guys at work do. i still am not sure about whether i am going back. my boss and i are still discussing. more like i am waiting to hear if he think he needs me to go back. i will keep updating with any news i hear.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
home safe and sound
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.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)