Welcome to Kampala, Don't Walk on the Grass.

14 June 2015

Finally a free day!  We get to do whatever we want to do today!  There’s no schedule!  This is awesome!  Amazing!  Wow!

It rained.  Like a monsoon.  I slept for 16 hours.  Here we are.

All right, I’m almost 2 weeks in on this Ugandan Adventure.  Every day is pretty structured:
     We have breakfast at 7, training sessions at 8, morning tea around 1030, more sessions until lunch at 1, sessions again until afternoon tea usually at 330, then the final training sessions are until usually 530 or 6 and dinner is at 7.  Lather rinse repeat.  We’ve been getting a little burnt out especially since there hasn’t been much free time, so sometimes I sneak off during tea time and grab a 10-12 minute nap.  But that usually leaves me more tired, so there’s no winning.  The food is good too, but when you’ve had matoke (the main banana dish) for every lunch and dinner every day along with the same cabbage, rice, beans, and potatoes, things can get boring.  It also gets difficult to poop.  Or easier, depends who you are.  The pit latrine in the girl’s dorm was just finished up so that’s a nice touch.  You just have to be careful when you flush not to get your skirt wet and be sure to not have your phone on you in there; those things are like 50 feet deep.  There’s no getting it back.

The trainees have this pot going of 10,000 shillings a person.  Whoever is the last in the group to have explosive diarrhea wins it all.  We all have burner phones and sim cards on a closed network.  They’re old school Nokias which are awesome.  So if it happens, you have to text the group saying “OUT.” And then we’ll all know.

Things here are good.  I’m starting to get a rhythm down and enjoy the limited free time that the trainees have together.  Last night there was a communal volleyball game with both trainees and Ugandans while others tossed a Frisbee around.  It was a beautiful summer evening just having everyone join together.  Moments like that make me think that this is possible, that maybe I can do this.  After the initial shock of being here wore off, I struggled emotionally to get my act together.  I was afraid that random bursts of crying about missing home would become my mantra.  But I talked about it to some PCVs and other trainees, and realized I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.  What was important was taking care of myself, so I left dinner, shut myself in my room, looked at all the pictures Alex gave me before I left and had a good ole cry.  It kind of washed me out, and I felt better afterward.  I know it’ll hit again, but I think it’s important to feel what you’re feeling.

Ok sentimental over.

Last Sunday was our first trip to the capital, Kampala!  We drove by taxi (which is not a taxi, it’s more like a mystery machine van with lots of seats which is awesome) into the city on the supposedly calmest day of the week.  Calm day my butt.  I’d hate to see what the city looked like on a busy day!  They dropped us off in the southern part of the city.  We were in groups of 4 with a slight scavenger hunt feel to the day; we had to locate the PC Headquarters, a Barclay’s bank, and some other stuff.  The best term I can use to describe my first impression of the city was organized chaos.  And sometimes not very organized.  There were people, cars, buses, and boda bodas (motorcycles) everywhere.  With one hand on my bag, the other reaching for someone in my group, I kept looking at the ground as to not step on a rock, a person, or in an open manhole.  So it was kind of hard to get a good look around.  But I felt like people got a good look at us, we kept hearing “Muzungo” everywhere.  And people stared.  I mean, we kind of stand out.  You just get used to it, though.  I either wave or say something in the very limited Luganda that I know.  Hopefully soon I’ll start language classes in the language as to better communicate. 

Once we got more centered in the city, our tour guide, Ken (who is a Kampala native) helped us look at the map on the steps of the post office.  We asked the one guard if it would be all right to be there because the building was closed on Sunday.  He said it was fine, but once we got on the other end of the patio, the other guard stopped us.  Well, actually, we woke him up.  He was enjoying a Sunday nap.  He then proceeded to threaten to arrest us because we were trespassing on government property and how we’d get a hefty fine.  Ken swooped in, very apologetic, and explained the misunderstanding, and we got off the patio.  Honestly, he was just pissed we woke him up.

The rest of the day consisted of getting a ride in some guy’s car up to the northern part of town for pizza and beer, getting our phones set up with MTN (I have a Ugandan number now!), and making our way back to the matatu station to get a ride back to the training center.  When I got home and took off my shoes, I thought I had gotten a pretty nice tan line…and then I took a shower.  Not the case.  It was a dusty day.

The week has been kind of had a high school feel to it.  Up early, sessions all day, done by dinner, up again the next day.  I’ve heard from other vols and RPCVs that PST is the roughest part.  I’ll be excited to get to language training during my homestay and then be at my site afterwards.  Speaking of which, I know where I’m going!  We had this “The Site is Right” ceremony to find out where we’ll be for our permanent sites.  When they called me up, I was told I was going to St. Andrews Community Health Centre III in Biikira.  Which was a shock.  Because I didn’t ask for St. Andrews at all.  It wasn’t even on my radar.  We were able to submit a Top 3 list for the sites we were interested in.  I didn’t pick St. Andrews because it offered little to no information on the site description.  So that was a big disappointment especially when most everyone else was giddy with excitement of their placements.  I tried not to show it, though, because afterwards there were dancers and drummers outside the main hall performing a traditional Ugandan dance!  They were in traditional dress, check out the pictures:

But the site placement thing was really bothering me.  I knew there would be a lot of ups and downs within my service, I just didn’t think so many would happen within the first week and a half of being here.  I was really upset; I don’t like not knowing what I’m going to do, and I thought that after being in Uganda for a bit would help clear that up, when really it’s made it more confusing.  I stayed in my room all night texting Mom, Lin, and Alex about it which helped.  But people kept telling me that personal health comes first, so when I saw Danielle, another health trainee, she could tell something was wrong and we got a beer and a slab of concrete and she let me cry out everything for a good half hour.  Bless her soul.  The crying mixed with beer gave me a headache, so I called it a night with a phone date with Alex in the waiting. 

I got up early, around 6, to call him at 11 back on the east coast.  Sitting in a plastic chair under the teatime tent in the dark, he gave me the long distance kick in the pants I needed (I knew there was a reason I loved him).  I complained that this isn’t what I thought it would be, and maybe it’d be better if I just came home.  He told me to get my freaking act together and put on my big girl pants.  I’m still in Africa, where I’ve always wanted to be.  Not knowing the details of my site could be a great thing; I can make it into whatever I want it to be.  If I came home now, I’d hate myself probably for forever.  And he’s right.  I would. 

So I’m here and thankful.  And trying.  This morning before the monsoon hit, I sat out under this beautiful tree with branches that stick out only at the top making it look like a pink umbrella.  A couple other trainees were out this morning with a book or cup of tea, enjoying the day.  Carson had a Frisbee and we got a game going with some of the kitchen staff.  Then it was back to reading with some music on.  I mentioned the volleyball game moment earlier, and this was just like it, only more peaceful.  I think I can do this.  Fingers crossed.

Until next time,

Kelly