You've Been Lost

Well be back from In-Service Training, or IST.  For 2 weeks my cohort has been held captive at a guest house in Entebbe that was fitted with an abundance of matooke, mosquitos, and friendship.  Captive is the wrong word.  But it was mandatory.  For once, I actually really liked training.  The sessions were long, some boring, some incredibly helpful, and some perfect for tic-tac-toe competitions.  But the thing I liked best was getting to be around my fellow PCVs again.  I finally realized that these people are wonderful, amazing, uplifting humans, and I genuinely need them if I want to get through these 2 years alive.

For the first week, it was just the PCVs.  We woke up too early, took too many cold showers (but showers nonetheless!), ate too much, and sat through beaucoup sessions.  But in the evenings, we’d fill up taxis to go to Nakumat for some alcohol buying or KFC eating (yeah, KFC.), and play some volleyball or football, or even do some yoga.  It was great having the gang back together.  Also, yinz are going to LOVE our Christmas video!  Coming to a computer screen near you. 

Me, Osman, and Sylivia, my counterpart

The second week of IST, our counterparts joined us for teambuilding and action planning the next 2 years.  I finally saw how much my counterpart wants to accomplish.  And it’s a lot.  HIV Prevention workshops, World AIDS Day events, Child and Maternal Health workshops with a demonstration permagarden to promote healthy eating, RUMPs and Menstrual Health workshops with a possibility of an Income Generating Activity (IGA) for the community, Malaria Prevention Awareness etc. etc. etc.  But I’m up for the challenge, and I’m thankful to work with someone who has just as many ideas as I do.

But after many hugs and future plannings to meet up, we had to part ways and go back to our respective sites.  I was so looking forward to getting back to my village and get out of the mosquito infested Entebee (19 bites since my last count. Ouch). 

Getting home was great.  Mama K’s friend Godfrey drove us home from Masaka since I had too much to carry for a taxi, and once we pulled up to my house, out ran Brenda, Katherine, and Benja to greet me.  You want to know how much your village likes you?  Just leave for a while.  Everyone notices and greets you warmly when you’re back.  People at my center and around the village would come up to me and say,

“Ah, Nakajubi, you’ve been lost.” 

Meaning, you know, I’ve been gone for a bit.  

I like to respond with, “But now I am found.”

Now I'm back in the village, coming off a togetherness high, ready to get to work, let’s go, do work, son.  Right?

Nope.  I spent the week taking early lunches, naps, and hiding in my house.

Being back at site made me anxious.  Everyone knew I was coming from an extensive training event, and now they’re looking at me to make changes.  Like now now.  I kept getting inquires of a new water pump, an IGA group, RUMPs trainings to all the schools and all the students, a priest sat me down and told me all about a volunteer who’s been here for around 7 years and created an organization to help bring light (like electricity, not light from God, I had to check) to rural sites all around Uganda, and how can we do something similar to that? 


Um…well…I have a French degree, so...

Being is here tough, I won’t lie.  I’m crazy homesick somedays.  Facebook is like a cesspool of all that is wrong in the world mixed with babies and “who’s engaged now?”  Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m going to win the “Worst PCV of All Time” award and that my projects are just going to fail.  There are as many lows (usually more lows) as highs, but what’s great is knowing I have a support system here and back home that are cheering me on. 

As volunteers, we’re told that coming to a developing country and serving for x-amount of time is a selfless act.  We’re sacrificing our time from joining the millions of other college grads in search of employment, health insurance, and 401k’s (what even are those?), to try and share differences in cultures, build a foundation of relationships, and hopefully, fingers crossed, improve the current situation in even one person’s life.  Selfless, right?  Not entirely.  Peace Corps is a great resume builder.  You get a lot of street cred:  People hear you went to the Peace Corps and think, “Wow, what an amazing experience.”  And they’re right, it is.  What they don’t see, though, are the selfish moments we take.  I’m on season 6 of the West Wing.  I don’t eat lunch with the staff.  I take personal days to call home, visit Masaka, eat western food, etc.  Not every day here is wonderful amazeballs Peace Corps life that you see online.  Some days, it’s me drinking evening tea all alone on my front step, thinking about all the major life events I’m missing back home with my family and friends.  So it’s kind of a mix.  Some days, I feel useful at my center, planning positive living lessons in Luganda, counting ARVs for patients, taking blood pressure, entering data files.  Attempted selfless acts.  None of these things are really what I’m supposed to be doing, but when my staff sees it, they’re appreciative, and I feel part of the team.  Other days, I stay in my house all day and mope around.  The selfish acts.  I try to keep it a balanced mix, but I’ve only been here about 6 months, so we’ll see how this ends up.

So anyway, by reading this blog, not only do you get to hear about the day to day life of Nakajubi, the story teller, but you also get an exclusive pass into my head and the random incoherent thoughts I write down.  I really should’ve stuck with that English degree.  Maybe then my rambling would have some sort of pattern, ebb, flow, anything other than the word vomit I end up typing.  But here we are.  You are most welcome.

Let’s go back to that story telling thing.  Last weekend I was in Fort Portal with about 15 other volunteers to celebrate Hope and Becca’s birthdays which lie just a day apart.  Fort Portal is also the hometown of the one and only Papa K (Linda’s dad for those who forgot).  I was so proud to see the place he calls home and to be a part of it, if only for a weekend.  Fort is in Tooro Kingdom, Land of the Mountains of the Moon.  On the obnoxiously long taxi drive there, we got to see the Rwenzori Mountains and drive through Queen Elizabeth National Park!  Kenzie and I were fortunate to have window seats in the back (sorry, Janet), and we spent the majority of that trip with our heads out the window.  The central region, where I live, is beautiful.  Fields on fields of matooke trees.  Clouds you’d see in a Pixar movie.  Wonderful sunsets with friendly people who love tea as much as I do.  But central is flat.  And most times, there’s nothing to look at.  Go out west, though.  Holy cow.  Rolling hills on rolling hills, mountains off in the distance that try to kiss the sky, wild zebra, springbok, and baboons if you look quickly.  (AND WE SAW 2 ELEPHANTS ON THE WAY HOME!)  That’s the stereotypical beautiful picture I had in my head before I got here.  And that’s what I saw.  And it rocked. 

The weekend was full of dancing, drinking, hiking, and picture taking.  If you’re on my facebook, you’ll have seen the picture of Crater Lake I put up.  If you’re too cool for that (I wish I was) and don’t have one, here’s what you missed:

The infamous Crater Lake

Becca, Mackenzie, Ndu

Mackenzie, Becca, Yours Truly

"Do it for the picture"

Katie, Becca, Me, Mackenzie

The ever wonderful Katie J

Back at site this past week has been better.  I’m getting some stuff done.  I’ve translated a big book (book made of grain sacks tied to a plastic pipe) into Luganda with the help of my tutor.  I’m starting to plan out lessons for RUMPs to teach to the nurses here at the center before I go out in the field.  And, I got a cat!  PCV Alania, up near Villa Maria, is COSing (close of service…ing).  Meaning her 2 years are done!  And she didn’t want to just ditch her loveable pet, so she put up a notice on the facebook, I saw it, called dibs, and here we are! Cat!  Yinz, meet Bilbo:

Mosquito Net Chilling

He’s cute as all get out, somehow cuddly, likes to bite my ankles in the middle of the night, and climb on top of my mosquito net.  Yes.  On top.  And just hang out there for a while.  I haven’t had a pet since good old Flopsey bunny, so we’re both learning to adjust together.  I buy him silver fish and avocado, he wakes me up at 4AM.  It works out.  I can already tell that I’m becoming that lady that doesn’t talk about anything besides her cat.  It’s really hard to avoid.  He’s now around constantly, so I have something to talk at instead of talking out loud to no one. 

One last thing and then you can move on with your life.  Ok I’m probably lying, I have like 3 other last things to write, too.  According to my countdown calendar app, there is only 1 month and 15 days until the one and only Susan Drummond steps off the plane in Entebbe Airport to spend the holiday with me.  That’s only 46 days!  I can’t wait.  We’re gonna chill at my health center for the majority of the time, she’s gonna meet my nuns, drink homemade passion fruit juice, eat boatloads of matooke, and see what I do on a day to day basis.  It’ll be about 7 months since I’ve seen her, and I’m so thankful she’s coming to visit me.  She is my rock in this crazy, unpredictable world, and I wouldn’t be here without her.

One mooooore thing.  Shoutouts!  I’ve been getting an abundance of letters and packages lately and I’ve just gotta say thanks.  Aunt Joan and Uncle George, I LOVED the amazing care package!  Those cheese crackers were gone real quick.  To Alex’s parentals, the wonderful Pattersons, I can’t tell you how much I love wearing the Pitt tee shirt and inhaling the peppermint patties.  Really, I’m not sure how I’m losing weight in country.  To Mark and Susan Shopland, my second parents, the pictures you sent me of the two of you in PC Botswana back in the day are the most precious things I have here in country.  I look at them and feel strengthened to keep going.  To Aunt Nat, Aunt Deb, Aunt Carol, Bonnie, Gingie, and so many others, a million thank you’s for the letters and cards.  I’m really running out of room in my house finding places to hang them up.  Reading them over again are wonderful reminders that I'm loved from such a far distance.

Merci beaucoup, weebale nnyo.

That’s all for now.  Gotta stop Bilbo from knocking over the trash can.  Again.

Kelly