I’m afraid that
I’m writing another blog post too soon and no one will care, but a lot has
changed in the last few days. Plus, we’ve had lots of time to just hang around
this weekend (something I’m not very good at, as my roommates will attest to)
and I don’t think that will be the case once we start teaching, so I might as
well use this time.
So, when I last
left off, we were preparing for the worst– a 6 hour car ride in a cramped,
hot car along pothole-covered dirt roads. It took 5 hours, it was cool thanks
to the lack of a speed limit in Uganda (the wind was deafening and prevented me
from noticing that my arm out the window was being burnt by the sun, but it was
still a blessing), and the roads were fairly smooth until near Kasese. Not to
mention that it was the most awesome thing that I’ve ever experienced. This
country is gorgeous, and I got to see many towns, people, homes, and
businesses, so I could see commonalities and variations in Ugandan life.
| tea plantations- not super common but common enough for this area |
| scenery |
| a pretty typical middle class house |
| there were a whole bunch of baboons crossing the road! |
| a typical mosque |
We were happy to
settle in, meet the neighbors and Doreen, who lives with us, and choose our
rooms (Cassie and I are doubling up, woop woop). Doreen is an absolute
sweetheart and I’m so thankful we have her to take us to the market (and haggle
prices), show us how to cook Ugandan dishes, and teach us words in Lhukonzo
(“Lu” denotes a language; Luganda is
the language spoken by the general Baganda
population, and Lhukonzo is the
sub-language spoken by the sub-group of Baganda
called the Konzo or the Konjo, who live in the Rwenzori
Mountains area).
But I think I
can speak for everyone when I say that we were still shell-shocked, shy, and
confused during our first day in Kasese. My prediction was wrong– many people
were dressed formally and most people stared at us without greeting or smile,
just like in Kampala. They did not seem used to bazungu, despite 8 groups of Wisconsin-Madison student teachers
having been here before us. The market, and town overall, was overwhelming. The
neigbors were friendly, but our conversations were awkward and we couldn’t
think of how to join their late-night hang-out in the yard. I went to bed
feeling dejected and intimated by the thought that we will be spending 2 more
months here.
But Saturday was
a new day. We met some more neighbors during breakfast (who just walk in the house,
because they’re related to the former owner and Doreen), who were cheery (“you
are welcome here!”). Doreen and I spent probably an hour cleaning a corner of
the living room that was a disheveled hodgepodge of things left by former
groups– magazines, cords for unknown electronics, a letter from a student in P4
to “Too Tall in Canada” (anyone know him?), Harry
Potter, and Fifty Shades Freed (the
running joke is that we’ll have an evening read-aloud of it)– covered with
thick dust blown in by the red dirt roads. Well, I did most the cleaning, but
we laughed and talked and it was comforting to know that we’d have at least one
friend here. She taught us how to say good evening (it sounds like “mAY sibire”),
so we practiced it when we got to town, and people smiled and returned the
greeting! It’s amazing what your attitude can do. You act friendly, unaffected
by stares or jeers, willing to make fun of yourself, and interested in people
and–imagine that– people smile back.
So the last two
days have been great. Kids wave, chant “Ba-zun-gu! Ba-zun-gu!” like they’re
cheering us on in a competition, practice their English greeting of
“ow-are-ou?” and adults smile and wish us a good day. We’ve learned a few more Lhukonzo words, like the village we live
in (kawa-ewa?), and good morning (obachilre? Some of us are still struggling
and it ends up sounding like oboe chili,
and kids giggle at our attempts).
I love life here
so far. I love how the days pass slowly, but with ease, so it feels that you’ve
really had a full day. I love that ordinary life is carried out against the
backdrop of an incredible mountain range. Sometimes, when I’ve been sitting
inside for a while, I forget that they’re there until I walk outside again and
am shocked all over again. I love that it gets so hot during the day that I
have to rinse myself off in the cold shower, leaving my hair wet and curly
until the next shower, but it’s so cool and breezy in the evenings and
mornings. I love that the meals are simple, from ingredients grown here, bought
from familiar faces at the market, yet leave you so full. I love the joy we get
from sharing super sweet mangoes, papayas, bananas, and pineapples on the porch
or at the table. I love all the smells outside, although the faint smell of
animals is a little gross. It reminds me of my time on farms in France; animal
smells are universal. So are lauging, smiling, and waving, which I love. I love
that this house gives us everything we need but nothing more. I love sleeping
underneath the mosquito net– I feel like I’m camping. I love the resident
chicks’ constant chirping, and I even love that El Diablo, the incredibly
annoying rooster, wakes us up at sunrise and compells us to get out of bed
(sidenote: roosters don’t stop at yawn, they keep at it through the afternoon).
This morning, I
felt so well-rested and alive that I decided we would go on a walk at 7 AM
(hahaha everyone hated me). I didn’t feel it was necessary to share that my
intention was to climb one of the smaller mountains, although I regreted
that later because Alex wore the wrong shoes for serious walking. Anyways, we
went up through the winding dirt roads, a beautiful shade of red, and greeted
people along the way. The ascent was gradual, and the houses became simpler and
more dispersed as we got further and further from town. We eventually were on a
narrow dirt path through grasses and bushes at the foot of the mountains (not
the real deal; offshoots of the Rwenzori) but we just didn’t see a good way to
tackle the steep slopes, so we turned back. But it ended up being a good 2 hour
walk. So we’ve spent the rest of the day lazing around– reading, eating,
talking, planning our future weekends. I’ve struggled to be content with just
resting in the house during the heat of midday, because I’m just so excited to
be here, in a completely foreign and beautiful place. I have an incessant urge
to explore and I’m ridiculously energetic.
We’re heading to
the school at 7:30 tomorrow morning, and will spend the next few days observing
classes so that we can choose where we want to teach. I’m thrilled that we are making this decision, since we’ve
had much less say in our teaching program thus far. I’m sure it will be a
difficult one to make, though. And the prospect of handling a class and
planning curriculum still scares me. But I’m glad that I have this transition
time to get used to life here, observe the school, and think about what’s
important to me in my teaching.
I think I’ll
save the next update until at least Friday, when I’ll have chosen my class.
Thanks for reading!
| look at this dude! |
| this is a SMALL avacado |
| Our advanced security system includes broken glass bottles on the walls to deter all those wall-jumpers. |
Hey Nichole.. I am Jamie, the Programs manager at Umoja Operation Compassion Society. It's great to hear how things are going so far. Just wanted to let you know that too tall is a previous volunteer who was there in august with a group finishing the cafeteria building. They were a dance group who also put performances on at the school and volunteered in some classes. Too tall is 6'7.. thus the name lol. I'd like to somehow get that letter back to give to him. Maybe you could keep it and mail it when you get back home to Wisconsin? My email is info@umojaoperation.ca if you have any questions about anything! I've also spent some time in Uganda as well as Tanzania. Enjoy your time there, it's a beautiful place.
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