Back to creature comforts - Kampala

Okay, so at the time that I wrote it, that whole entry about race consciousness really did feel genuine. Then on Saturday morning, we arrived at the airport and I saw white people everywhere, so it sort of ruined the “moment” I was having during the week in Arua. The plane was probably half-full (there were only about 14 people that fit on the plane anyway) with missionaries.

We made it to Entebbe, and Adwoa and I were whisked away by Richard, one of the drivers for the project. Having seen traffic in Kampala on a Saturday afternoon, I will never again complain about DC area rush hour. Luckily for me, in order to earn the title of “driver” here, you really have to be able to navigate some pretty tight and crowded spaces, and you have to be willing to play chicken with anyone. There were boda-boda drivers everywhere, except in Kampala they are more often on motorbikes as opposed to bicycles. I arrived at Katrina’s house, the lovely Finance and Admin person on the project, and she took me to Judith’s house. I have never met Judith but she has a lovely house, and I am living in it until Dec 5 when she returns from leave. I have a guard (Brenda by day and Moses by night), a maid/cook (Christine), and a gardener (Tumba Simbi, or something that sounds like that). I have a beautiful house and garden. I have hot water and a toilet that flushes. I even have a panic button apparently. Not that I’m interested in using it. The only things that have reminded me that I’m not in some cushy resort are that a) Katrina showed me how to prime the generator if the electricity goes out, which happens often, and b) there was a gecko hanging on the wall outside my room. I do think it’s going to be hard to get used to never being alone though.

Saturday, I went with Katrina, her two kids, and their nanny to a Drama Festival which is an annual event done by an organization called TASO – The AIDS Support Organization. The organization is celebrating its 18th birthday and is known as an amazing support network for people living with HIV/AIDS. There were 300 participants who came from around the country, all HIV positive. The theme this year had to do with prevention among positives. Uganda is going through an extreme shortage of condoms, from what I understand, and the US government’s insistence on making “moral” decisions for where it funds projects isn’t helping.

One of the really cool things about this festival was that everyone performing had HIV, which means many of them were on anti-retroviral therapies. It’s a true testament to how powerful these drugs are. These were incredibly healthy looking people, who were leading very normal lives thanks to these drugs.

After the festival, we went to someone’s house for an early Thanksgiving dinner. There’s a huge American ex-pat community here working on a variety of projects. I talked to some nice people, and had a wonderful meal, complete from turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce all the way to apple and pumpkin pie. It’s nice to not feel like I was missing out on Thanksgiving completely.

Sunday, I was woken up early by singing coming from a church service in a school sort of in the direction of my backyard. The service goers sounded very enthusiastic and they must have had some serious energy, because the singing and preaching continued for about three hours. Katrina came to pick me up at noon to run errands, and then we went back to her house for the afternoon.

Now it’s about 7:30pm and I am watching Late Edition with Wolf Blitzer on CNN. Funny how even half the world away, watching Donald Rumsfeld talk makes me want to puke. I just made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I may crash soon. Playing with a 2 ½ year old afternoon will wipe anyone out. Katrina’s son, J.R., is my new best friend it seems. He’s very energetic. He’s also in the “repeating” stage, where he repeats the things other people say, with some very funny results. He’s the blondest, palest, most blue eyed little boy around. Sitting in his car seat, he gets a real kick out of yelling “Mzungu!!!!” at the top of his lungs to anyone (usually Ugandans) walking by. Mzungu is the word Ugandans use for white people, which makes it hysterical that J.R. screams this at the Ugandans. He only knows the word because other kids yell it at him, but he clearly has no idea what it means.

All for today. I'll have pretty steady email access now so feel free to email me. :-)