Maybe I'm just a procrastinator, but this blog is like the dishes.
I need to recap about 3 months worth of events and I'm not sure how to do it. I begin:
We touched down in Uganda in August and after a few recovery days at Lweza (near Kampala) started with our training. Training lasts for 10 weeks, which we spent in Wakiso town, at the home of Jackson and Karen. The homestay itself was fine, except for the standard complaints of not being in control of bathings or feedings, and overall I would say that our homestay was as good as could be asked for. By the time 10 weeks was up, we had both had enough of sitting all day, only to rush home past the hordes of Muzungu-screaming children, to make it before the sun went down (which is when the boogeyman comes). We got some intensive instruction in Lugwere, the language spoken in our future sites, which prepared us quite well to look like fools (our instructor, Mica, was quite good, and his class was one of the things to look forward to each day, but you never really start learning the language until you are consistently embarrased in it). For the most part training was a series of training sessions and activities designed to make sure we could at least function on a base level once we hit the ground. Forgive the lack of detail, but the memory fades, and the typing hands tire.
So on to Site. We landed in our village, Uganda in mid-October. The house we were first in was somewhat unfinished, and there was another house in a smaller village (nearby) that had been prepared, but we decided to stick it out and try to make the first place work. After about a month or so we decided to relocate to the other house, and we were allowed to move. The move itself was an overburdened-truck, dudes-riding-on-top, stare-inducing, pampered-white-people debacle that introduced us to the community as "those muzungus that have way too many things".
We have been her now for about a month, and things are going well. My Lugwere is more embarrasing than ever, but our longsuffering neighbors are always willing to happily look confused and ask me in english what I am trying to say. Our neighbor, Paul, is also very good at policing the area, and we have only had one person come the the house asking for money. The person was later tracked down by the same Paul and reminded how to act with us.
Lets see... frisbee instruction to the children, kids playing with toys made out of old jerry cans and soccer balls made of plastic bags, beautiful lavender sunsets, the double-handed greeting wave, trees that grow every way but up, the red/green/blue of dirt/trees/sky, millions of lizards, smiles and men stomping around in mud to make bricks, people saying "well done" when you've been sitting on your ass for a few hours, Legit indian food in Mbale... there are some snapshot memories of mine from here.
If I wasn't battling what I'm sure is Giardia i would relate Cassandra's "getting clipped by the out-of-control boda" story, but right now it's a trip to the pit latrine for me......Adios!