Too much time on my hands this week!

I obviously have too much time on my hands. Here are a bunch of random observations and trivia
. . .Ugandan Military
People in Uganda are surprised to hear that the U.S. military stays in place even if there is a new president. In Uganda, each president must hire his own army. When I tell them that our military doesn’t change with the change of administration, they shake their heads and “tsk tsk tsk”. (The sound doesn’t imply judgment one way or the other. It means something close to ‘fancy that’.)

The ramifications of this seem interesting. Im no scholar on the subject but it seems that it greatly behooves soldiers to use whatever tactics necessary to protect their President, as he and his position is directly tied to their personal financial security. Secondly, insurgents would have to gather and have in place enough citizen soldiers (rebels) and money to pay the solders to hold their new government in the unlikely event of a successful overthrow. Finally, given the indecent level of poverty here it must be fairly easy to recruit rebels. These kids have nothing to lose, and the potential of a job to gain. I bet becoming a rebel has a whole lot more to do with hunger than with idiology.

. . .Taxi Lessons
You’ve read my rants and raves on the Ugandan taxi and taxi driver. Now envision the following: As a reminder, a taxi is an old 9 passenger van. I have counted as many as 26 in one I have been on.

In Uganda the driving is done on the left, so the sliding doors on the taxi vans open on the left rather than on the right as in the US. The seat directly behind the front seat passenger window is reserved for the conductor. The conductor rides with the door open in areas where people are gathered and as the driver slows down, the conductor yells out where the taxi is going. Mukono, Mbarara, Jinja, etc. As he does this he holds up however many fingers to indicate the number of spaces available on the vehicle. Often this is only a suggested number as he may be holding up two fingers, but if four people want a ride, he will often start making the existing passengers move around or squish together to accommodate the four.

Alternately, the taxi is parked on the street and sits until the conductor deems it full enough to make it worth going somewhere. This can take up to an hour and a half. It is better to find a taxi already moving. This is the same with large buses. There are no tickets and no ticket takers. When the vehicle is full, you go. And you sit there until it is at least full.

There are a couple of drawbacks to getting into an already traveling taxi. If I am traveling from Kampala to Mukono, I am looking for a moving vehicle with a conductor that is yelling, “Mukono” and holding up at least one finger. Assume that has happened and there is an actual seat for me. Now, envision the game Tetris. As passengers get off, everyone on the taxi changes seats, taking all of their bundles (children, chickens, bags of banana leaves) moving to towards the back so that the back seats remain full. The farther you travel, the more likely you will eventually wind up in the farthest right hand seat back. Now, you figure that you will no longer need to move since you are in the seat that must be vacated before anyone else moves. Not so.

It just may be that the taxi is actually going to Gomba, but since they travel TOWARDS Mukono they nabbed you as a passenger by saying they were going to Mukono. You get thrown off the taxi when they approach the Gomba turn off. But not before they charge you.

You stand on the road and pray for another taxi going to Mukono and when one comes, you repeat the process until you finally land in Mukono.

The alternative to this is to go to an actual taxi park. There, you search for a taxi with a cardboard placard that says “Mukono”. This taxi is actually going to Mukono, but you may sit there for 90 minutes while the vehicle fills. Still, you play the human Tetris game throughout your trip.

Now that I have figured out the system, I decided to thwart it. When I was asked to disembark because they were going to Gomba, I decided to go to Gomba. I had nothing better to do and haven’t yet been to Gomba. It didn’t work. The conductor assumed I was a Muzungu that didn’t understand, and kicked me off. (Actually it wasnt Gomba but I forget the name of the town they were dumping me for)


. . .On asking the Ugandan Government for land on which to build an orphanage, an orphan’s primary school, with a sustainable organic garden, room for a piggery, chickens and goats…and a Phase II vocational training center for the children as they age out of the orphanage…and an on-site community HIV/AIDS testing and referral counseling service, and more. I don’t want much:-) But then when was the last time you got something you never asked for?

I worked all day on the concept paper that the Minister of Gender and Social Something wants prior to submitting a full proposal. The facts alone drove the entire paper so it was fairly easy. One in 4 people who die this year will succumb to AIDS, tuberculosis, malaria or infections related to dirty water. Mukono already has over 77,000 orphans with very personal connections to the above deaths. Uganda has over 1,000,000. In every corner of the world intelligence and energy are evenly distributed, but opportunity, investment and effective governments and organizations are not. (all of this was given to me in one form or another) It is certainly not a level playing field here. And since I still believe that our common humanity is more important than our individual differences, I included a statement that our orphanage will accept children of both Christian and Muslim faiths, and Buganda and other tribes. I don’t know how well that will fly given the fact that most government officials are Christian and the churches have such strong influence on decision making. On the up side, both faiths live side by side here in total harmony. So…tomorrow I will put the finishing touches on this paper and move on to the next task.

Family
I took Scovia for coffee at the hotel today. I don’t know if she had ever been there or not. She has never been in a swimming pool but saw it and would like to try it. As a little girl she lived in Jinja with her aunt who would not let her get into the Nile because of crocs. She has wanted to try swimming ever since she was small. So next weekend I will take her and give her a lesson.

One of the greatest things about living with a local family is that you get to know them well enough to ask about and discuss cultural differences without any discomfort. She was shocked to hear of nursing homes. We discussed burial practices and I am shocked at theirs. We went on to discuss motherhood and decided that mothers are pretty much the same everywhere. We all want the same things for our children. I didn’t say so, but there is in fact a difference: In the USA the dreams we have for our children and those they have for themselves might actually happen.

Paul came home after working at the hospital today with feet blacker than our Ugandan hosts. He played soccer with the patients, barefoot, in the dirt. I had to take a picture of his feet. Later Alice, Scovia and Viola joined us on my floor as we had tea. They took one look at his feet and got the honking, snorting, crying, out of control, hysterical laughing fits.

Alice asked to see the picture of herself and her mother on my computer tonight. I have not yet found a place to get photos developed for her as I promised. She began by enjoying the pictures of that last visit but then homesickness took over. Paul and I offered to take her home on Sunday and she was worried about going without Scovia or Isaac because she can’t translate. We told her not to worry because she could visit with her mother and we will wander around the village and take some photos. That was good enough for her. She perked right up! I told Paul that we can each pack a loaf of bread in our backpacks to leave with her mother. I’m thinking we could carry some rice as well. My backpack is so good I could probably fit a goat in there if need be. We've put off going to Jinja until next weekend so that Katy can join us.

The “girls” (Scovia/Viola/Alice) want my hair and were pretty convinced it had something to do with my shampoo. Viola asked if she could try my shampoo. I told her that she could, but that our hair was different. She tried it and was disappointed. It is still not Muzungu hair. She thinks that maybe if she could use my conditioner… Then Paul asked to use my shampoo and loved it. He wants to know if he can buy it anywhere in London. I told him he could try the internet. I want a commission from Osmotics for international marketing. It will pay for more shampoo since everyone is using mine up. Paul by the way had his pocket picked in Kampala yesterday and lost everything but his passport. Oh man.

Tomorrow (Saturday) we are all going to the school in Seeta where the students from villages far and near are having a full day dancing and drumming competition. Alice said she couldn’t go but didn’t say why. It turns out that you must wear shoes when in school and she has none. Geez. I never noticed before, but I do think she is always barefoot. I was going to give her my sandals to wear but she must wear Size Huge. Huge. (I have often seen bare feet in some of the more remote village schools)

Met a charming new neighbor this evening. Her name is Diana and she is 13 years old. She is Buganda. She is also an incredibly bright kid. She disappeared and reappeared with a COLD beer for me and a Fanta orange for herself. Cold beer anywhere around here is like producing actual bunnies from magic hats. When I asked her where it came from, she said that her father gave it to her to give to me. I don’t know where this man found cold beer, but man…I LIKE Ugandans…anyway she had a thousand questions for me and then taught me much about the Buganda tribe. She has an uncle living in Boston who just finished his residency at some hospital there. He is coming back here to practice. Good deal. Bedtime...