Ugh...my stupid stomach. Why do you hate me? Is it the malaria tablets? Do you have a problem with me trying to protect myself against malaria? Is that what's going on here?
It's funny, for how horrible I feel, I haven't missed a single meal. My stomach may be churning and I may be excreting undigested matter at an appalling rate, but that doesn't affect my appetite one bit.
My classmate, Alicia is visiting the institute today as part of her summer project. She's from Seattle and she brought Cheez-Its! New best friend! Even my stupid stomach can't resist Cheez-Its. I can't even remember the last time I've had them (well, I remember someone sent some Cheez-Its to Alex, but they were the extreme flavor ones and were pretty disgusting.) I don't think you can buy them in London. It's weird seeing a familiar face in this unfamiliar place. I think I have a tendency to compartmentalize my life, so when Jacque visited me in London, or when Becky visited me in France, I couldn't reconcile having a Seattle person in a foreign city. It felt surreal in a way.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Monday, July 06, 2009
Money
I brought some US dollars with me to Uganda because I was told it was the only currency accepted at the airport (in case I needed to bribe any bureaucrats). I decided to only carry a couple twenties around with me at any given time (again, in case I needed to get out of sticky situations) so when my wallet was stolen, there were only $40 in it. This means that I had about $120 back in my room, locked away. I will now have to live off of this $120 for at least two weeks until I get a new ATM card (not actually all that hard to do around here). I went on an unexpected two hour walk yesterday in search of a good exchange rate (one dollar is roughly 2000 Ugandan shillings). I did find a good one, though, so score! In the evening, we housemates decided to walk down to an advertised beach (less a beach and more a bar on the lake). That ended up being another unexpectedly long walk, in the pitch dark, not exactly sure where we were. It’s all good, though. We eventually found our way back. I think that’s my exercise for the year.
My stupid UK bank won’t send a new debit card to Uganda. They’re sending it to London, which of course, doesn’t help me a whole lot. However, despite the fact that I was a bit mean to the guy on the phone, he was really nice and said he would figure something out for me. It sounds like I might have to transfer money from my account into my housemate’s UK bank account, then she can withdraw cash for me from an ATM here. Complicated, but I have few other options. The bank guy said he might be able to send a bank order here, but I don’t think banks here would have any idea what to do with that. My housemates brought travelers checks and tried them at every bank in town, then several banks in Kampala before finding a place that would take them, and then they gave a bad exchange rate on them. If banks here can’t take travelers checks, I doubt they’ll be able to handle a bank order. I think transferring to my housemate’s account will be more fool-proof, although now that I’ve said that, I’ve probably jinxed it.
My housemate, Roya’s mom packed all sorts of ridiculous things into her luggage without her knowledge. Roya arrived in Uganda to find several tins of food, lots of chocolate bars, a frying pan, and much, much more. Last night, she discovered that her mom had packed her housecleaning gloves, and when she put them on to wash the dishes, she further discovered that her mom had written her name on each glove. Too funny! As if the rest of use would have brought rubber gloves that might get mixed up with hers. Honestly, when I considered all the things I would need for a comfortable stay in Uganda, somehow rubber gloves didn’t come to mind.
Today I’m sick, but as the symptoms are the same as the stomach issues I had back in Feb/March, I’m hoping this is just my body adjusting to different food and stuff, and not an actual infection. We drink bottled water, so I don’t think it would be a water-borne infection, although it could be if the food I’m eating was washed in bad water. I’ve been eating a lot more fresh fruit prepared by someone else, so who knows. Or it could be the milk. Anyhoo, I’m gonna cross my fingers and hope for the best. Let’s all chant together: No worms! No cysts! No malaria!
My stupid UK bank won’t send a new debit card to Uganda. They’re sending it to London, which of course, doesn’t help me a whole lot. However, despite the fact that I was a bit mean to the guy on the phone, he was really nice and said he would figure something out for me. It sounds like I might have to transfer money from my account into my housemate’s UK bank account, then she can withdraw cash for me from an ATM here. Complicated, but I have few other options. The bank guy said he might be able to send a bank order here, but I don’t think banks here would have any idea what to do with that. My housemates brought travelers checks and tried them at every bank in town, then several banks in Kampala before finding a place that would take them, and then they gave a bad exchange rate on them. If banks here can’t take travelers checks, I doubt they’ll be able to handle a bank order. I think transferring to my housemate’s account will be more fool-proof, although now that I’ve said that, I’ve probably jinxed it.
My housemate, Roya’s mom packed all sorts of ridiculous things into her luggage without her knowledge. Roya arrived in Uganda to find several tins of food, lots of chocolate bars, a frying pan, and much, much more. Last night, she discovered that her mom had packed her housecleaning gloves, and when she put them on to wash the dishes, she further discovered that her mom had written her name on each glove. Too funny! As if the rest of use would have brought rubber gloves that might get mixed up with hers. Honestly, when I considered all the things I would need for a comfortable stay in Uganda, somehow rubber gloves didn’t come to mind.
Today I’m sick, but as the symptoms are the same as the stomach issues I had back in Feb/March, I’m hoping this is just my body adjusting to different food and stuff, and not an actual infection. We drink bottled water, so I don’t think it would be a water-borne infection, although it could be if the food I’m eating was washed in bad water. I’ve been eating a lot more fresh fruit prepared by someone else, so who knows. Or it could be the milk. Anyhoo, I’m gonna cross my fingers and hope for the best. Let’s all chant together: No worms! No cysts! No malaria!
Day 3
In which I get pick pocketed…twice.
The four of us living in the lower guesthouse ventured out to the capital city of Kampala accompanied by a very nice Ugandan man from the institution. We went by public transport, which involves very rickety vans with about 14 passenger seats. According to my guidebook, Kampala is nicer than other east African capitals such as Nairobi and Dar es Salaam. If that’s true, I’m not in any rush to see Nairobi or Dar, as Kampala was crowded, dirty, and ugly. But that’s just the spoiled snob in me coming out, I’m sure.
We ran a few errands in the city, had lunch, and then headed to the Bugandan kingdom’s administrative center for a festival held on the palace grounds. Uganda is ruled by a president, but the country is composed of several ancient kingdoms, the biggest of which is the kingdom of Buganda. Kampala is located in the Bugandan kingdom, so when the British colonized the country, they gave almost all administrative power to Bugandans. We went to visit the Bugandan parliament (not to be confused with the Ugandan parliament) and the palace of the Bugandan king. We didn’t actually see any of the palace, but there was a sort of festival on the grounds that involved animals in small cages, food, shopping, and live musical performances. I think it was while looking at the animals in cages that my wallet was stolen, though I didn’t realize it for several hours. It was at that time that I noticed the out flap of my bag had been undone, but my cellphone was still in its spot. I had a glance inside the bag, and my iPod and stuff were still there. I thought my wallet was tucked further down, and I didn’t bother verifying that, but I think now that it was probably on top, thus within easy reach of sneaky fingers.
I continued to check my phone periodically throughout the day, so I’m not sure exactly when it was stolen, but much later in the day. I remember using it to check the time at 5:30pm, so it must have been soon after that.
Grr. I just feel like such a moron. And a target. First I miss my flight, then I get pick pocketed twice in one day. What next? I shudder to think of the possibilities. I’m a paranoid person naturally, so I’ve been slightly on edge since I arrived here, but now I feel all that much more vulnerable. I feel like nothing is safe, even if locked up. I need to practice non-attachment. If Jesus’s wallet had been stolen, he would have just shrugged it off and moved on. If Jesus ever even had a wallet to start with.
But it’s not so bad. The cell phone was four years old and didn’t have a Ugandan SIM card in it yet. It’ll suck to have to recollect everyone’s phone numbers, but people lose phones all the time. The wallet had my US credit card and UK debit card, my driver’s license, $40 and 40,000 Ugandan shillings (about $20), and nothing else of much value, all replaceable. It’s a hassle to have to close accounts, especially from abroad, and especially because the phone system in the guesthouse is run through the institution’s switchboard, which only operates during business hours, Monday through Friday. Great system, huh? No one told me this until yesterday, so if there had some emergency here, I would have had no idea that I would need a cell phone to call the police. Scary.
My housemates were super supportive and paid for everything for me for the rest of the day. Bryoni offered her cell phone to call the banks, and Roya gave me a chocolate bar and decided that we needed to go out clubbing to cheer me up. So when we got back to Entebbe, we changed clothes and headed to the two decent nightclubs in town. Myth: All African people can dance. Some African men dance just as badly as white men. It was much like clubbing in London, except that everyone stared at us and I'm pretty sure I saw a cockroach scuttling across the floor. Fun times.
A few pictures of my first days.
The four of us living in the lower guesthouse ventured out to the capital city of Kampala accompanied by a very nice Ugandan man from the institution. We went by public transport, which involves very rickety vans with about 14 passenger seats. According to my guidebook, Kampala is nicer than other east African capitals such as Nairobi and Dar es Salaam. If that’s true, I’m not in any rush to see Nairobi or Dar, as Kampala was crowded, dirty, and ugly. But that’s just the spoiled snob in me coming out, I’m sure.
We ran a few errands in the city, had lunch, and then headed to the Bugandan kingdom’s administrative center for a festival held on the palace grounds. Uganda is ruled by a president, but the country is composed of several ancient kingdoms, the biggest of which is the kingdom of Buganda. Kampala is located in the Bugandan kingdom, so when the British colonized the country, they gave almost all administrative power to Bugandans. We went to visit the Bugandan parliament (not to be confused with the Ugandan parliament) and the palace of the Bugandan king. We didn’t actually see any of the palace, but there was a sort of festival on the grounds that involved animals in small cages, food, shopping, and live musical performances. I think it was while looking at the animals in cages that my wallet was stolen, though I didn’t realize it for several hours. It was at that time that I noticed the out flap of my bag had been undone, but my cellphone was still in its spot. I had a glance inside the bag, and my iPod and stuff were still there. I thought my wallet was tucked further down, and I didn’t bother verifying that, but I think now that it was probably on top, thus within easy reach of sneaky fingers.
I continued to check my phone periodically throughout the day, so I’m not sure exactly when it was stolen, but much later in the day. I remember using it to check the time at 5:30pm, so it must have been soon after that.
Grr. I just feel like such a moron. And a target. First I miss my flight, then I get pick pocketed twice in one day. What next? I shudder to think of the possibilities. I’m a paranoid person naturally, so I’ve been slightly on edge since I arrived here, but now I feel all that much more vulnerable. I feel like nothing is safe, even if locked up. I need to practice non-attachment. If Jesus’s wallet had been stolen, he would have just shrugged it off and moved on. If Jesus ever even had a wallet to start with.
But it’s not so bad. The cell phone was four years old and didn’t have a Ugandan SIM card in it yet. It’ll suck to have to recollect everyone’s phone numbers, but people lose phones all the time. The wallet had my US credit card and UK debit card, my driver’s license, $40 and 40,000 Ugandan shillings (about $20), and nothing else of much value, all replaceable. It’s a hassle to have to close accounts, especially from abroad, and especially because the phone system in the guesthouse is run through the institution’s switchboard, which only operates during business hours, Monday through Friday. Great system, huh? No one told me this until yesterday, so if there had some emergency here, I would have had no idea that I would need a cell phone to call the police. Scary.
My housemates were super supportive and paid for everything for me for the rest of the day. Bryoni offered her cell phone to call the banks, and Roya gave me a chocolate bar and decided that we needed to go out clubbing to cheer me up. So when we got back to Entebbe, we changed clothes and headed to the two decent nightclubs in town. Myth: All African people can dance. Some African men dance just as badly as white men. It was much like clubbing in London, except that everyone stared at us and I'm pretty sure I saw a cockroach scuttling across the floor. Fun times.
A few pictures of my first days.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Day 2
Last night when I entered my bathroom to get ready for bed, there was a gecko hanging out on the window screen. Even after establishing that it was on the outside of the screen, I still couldn’t relax, and a moment later, it had somehow managed to squeeze through a gap in the window and into my bathroom. I know these lizards are completely harmless and are more scared of me than I am of them, and I also think they’re sort of cute, but they freak the heck out of me all the same! The way it wiggled around when it moved and the speed with which it descended the wall towards my toilet made my skin crawl. I left, shut the door, and had to recompose myself. When I used the toilet later, it was only after making a thorough inspection of the room.
I know I need to get used to critters like lizards and bugs being around. I’m sure I will encounter many of them in the next seven weeks, and the ones big enough to notice are harmless. I will have to become desensitized by exposure.
I’m super happy to be living with other, adventurous young people. Tonight, the girls suggested we all go for a walk to find wine. We wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the Tanzanian guy coming with us, and even so I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea. I certainly never would have even considered it if I were on my own. The road was muddy, rutted, and lit only by the moon. At times, I would look behind us to see a dark form following. That freaked me out at first, but people left us alone and soon we were in town, where there was more light. The “grocery store” was a trip! Tiny “aisles” crammed full of all sorts of random things. For example, plastic sachets of alcohol, clothing in Ziploc bags labeled “boys,” flip flops, and stacks of what look like used (or at least very old) paper pads and art supplies. On the wine shelf, alongside African wines were a few bottles of “Altar Wine.” We decided to also get a couple beers as well, and scanned the selection via the crates of empty, battered Guinness and Kronenburg bottles. The woman went into the back of the store and returned with full bottles, obviously recycled several times. A large group of children escorted us most of the way home, turning cartwheels and saying, “See this! See this!” At one point, one of them walked up to me and made motions like he was painting his face, while they said, “Butter!” “Butter on your face?” I asked. “Yes!” “Why?” I asked, but they had lost interest already. I wondered if this was some reference to my pale complexion…
The girls arranged for someone to show us around Kampala (the capital city) tomorrow. This makes me super happy, as I know that if I were here alone, I would spend seven weeks within the one-mile radius surrounding my home and work. I don’t create my own adventures; I let others arrange them for me. So I consider myself extremely lucky to be living with people who like to arrange adventures.
The internet in the guesthouse is still broken, and as it’s now the weekend, I’m sure it won’t be fixed before Monday. However, I was happy to discover today that the office I’m working in is outside of the institute’s proxy network, so I can access Facebook, gmail chat, the remote desktop, and anything else I want to! I can’t go in on the weekend, so can’t chat with the fam, and I’ll have to find some non-internety way to entertain myself for the next two days (how does one do that? The TV is all in Swahili!)
My gecko friend is back tonight, though happily, he’s back on the outer side of the screen. I think I could become quite fond of him, as long as he stays out there. And now it’s 1am, so I must skedaddle off to bed.
I know I need to get used to critters like lizards and bugs being around. I’m sure I will encounter many of them in the next seven weeks, and the ones big enough to notice are harmless. I will have to become desensitized by exposure.
I’m super happy to be living with other, adventurous young people. Tonight, the girls suggested we all go for a walk to find wine. We wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the Tanzanian guy coming with us, and even so I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea. I certainly never would have even considered it if I were on my own. The road was muddy, rutted, and lit only by the moon. At times, I would look behind us to see a dark form following. That freaked me out at first, but people left us alone and soon we were in town, where there was more light. The “grocery store” was a trip! Tiny “aisles” crammed full of all sorts of random things. For example, plastic sachets of alcohol, clothing in Ziploc bags labeled “boys,” flip flops, and stacks of what look like used (or at least very old) paper pads and art supplies. On the wine shelf, alongside African wines were a few bottles of “Altar Wine.” We decided to also get a couple beers as well, and scanned the selection via the crates of empty, battered Guinness and Kronenburg bottles. The woman went into the back of the store and returned with full bottles, obviously recycled several times. A large group of children escorted us most of the way home, turning cartwheels and saying, “See this! See this!” At one point, one of them walked up to me and made motions like he was painting his face, while they said, “Butter!” “Butter on your face?” I asked. “Yes!” “Why?” I asked, but they had lost interest already. I wondered if this was some reference to my pale complexion…
The girls arranged for someone to show us around Kampala (the capital city) tomorrow. This makes me super happy, as I know that if I were here alone, I would spend seven weeks within the one-mile radius surrounding my home and work. I don’t create my own adventures; I let others arrange them for me. So I consider myself extremely lucky to be living with people who like to arrange adventures.
The internet in the guesthouse is still broken, and as it’s now the weekend, I’m sure it won’t be fixed before Monday. However, I was happy to discover today that the office I’m working in is outside of the institute’s proxy network, so I can access Facebook, gmail chat, the remote desktop, and anything else I want to! I can’t go in on the weekend, so can’t chat with the fam, and I’ll have to find some non-internety way to entertain myself for the next two days (how does one do that? The TV is all in Swahili!)
My gecko friend is back tonight, though happily, he’s back on the outer side of the screen. I think I could become quite fond of him, as long as he stays out there. And now it’s 1am, so I must skedaddle off to bed.
Uganda Day 1
When I arrived in Uganda, it was pouring rain. It was a refreshing break to the sweltering heat of London (hotter than Bangkok on Tuesday!) I was kindly picked up from the airport and deposited at the guest house with no idea where to go or what to do from there. I was also informed that I have to pay rent (my supervisor didn’t bother to mention that before I got here). I asked the housekeeper to show me the way to the research institution (a 5-10 walk away), but when I got there and faced the security guard at the front gate, I wasn’t sure what to say or who to ask for. We finally figured something out and I was shown to my supervisor (she’d told me she wouldn’t be here). She informed me that she would give me a bunch of uncrunched data to stew over for the next two weeks while she’s out of the country, starting tomorrow. So yeah, I’m on my own for my first two weeks. But there is a lot of data to process, so I should have my hands full, and there are other people who can answer my questions about it.
I’m living in a four-bedroom guesthouse and each bedroom has it’s own toilet and shower, which is very nice. The housekeeper was kind to give me a larger, sunnier room since I’m staying so long. There is another girl from my school here, whom I’ve never met before today, but she seems super nice. There’s also a girl from Cambridge and a guy from Tanzania, and everyone is very nice. The girls have been here for a week already, so know a couple of the ins and outs (which are not at all easy to figure out!)
Despite having a pretty good idea of what most of Africa is like, I had for some reason expected Entebbe to be fairly upscale. Don’t ask where I got that impression. It is false. Many of the locals live in or work out of shacks (possibly both in the same shack?) A major industry around here appears to be taxiing people around on the backs of motor bikes (boda boda). I have not tried this yet and do not currently have any intention to do so. There are white people here, at least in the institution, so I know I’m not a complete novelty, but people still stare (perhaps it is my level of whiteness, which borders on glow-in-the-dark). As I was walking to the institute, I could hear little footsteps behind me, running to catch up. They slowed to a walk and followed me about a pace behind. I turned and the little boy said, “OwareYOU!” To which I said, “Hello, how are you?” and he responded, “Fine.” English is the official language of Uganda and most people with rudimentary education speak it, but I’m not sure exactly how much English the children know.
My supervisor had informed me that the internet was both quick and reliable, but so far it doesn’t seem to be either (I’m writing this in Word because I have no internet access in the guesthouse.) Apparently, rain is enough to disrupt the connection in the guesthouse. I also discovered that the institution I’m working and living at blocks Facebook and Gmail chat, my main ways of communicating with friends and family, respectively. Also, perhaps more importantly, I can’t seem to access the remote desktop system our school provides for us to be able to use certain software programs. This could be bad if I end up needing any of those programs for my project (though I don’t think I will.)
Anyway, I’m lucky I have any internet access at all. And this place is way cool. There are tons of cool bird sounds and when I was walking to the institute earlier, I saw monkeys jumping from tree to tree. Monkeys! In a residential area! Despite the culture shock, I think I could get used to this. Unless I get malaria, food poisoning, my room becomes infested with any sort of pest, or a tick burrows into my skin. Then I’ll be on the next plane out. What can I say? I’m a wuss.
I’m living in a four-bedroom guesthouse and each bedroom has it’s own toilet and shower, which is very nice. The housekeeper was kind to give me a larger, sunnier room since I’m staying so long. There is another girl from my school here, whom I’ve never met before today, but she seems super nice. There’s also a girl from Cambridge and a guy from Tanzania, and everyone is very nice. The girls have been here for a week already, so know a couple of the ins and outs (which are not at all easy to figure out!)
Despite having a pretty good idea of what most of Africa is like, I had for some reason expected Entebbe to be fairly upscale. Don’t ask where I got that impression. It is false. Many of the locals live in or work out of shacks (possibly both in the same shack?) A major industry around here appears to be taxiing people around on the backs of motor bikes (boda boda). I have not tried this yet and do not currently have any intention to do so. There are white people here, at least in the institution, so I know I’m not a complete novelty, but people still stare (perhaps it is my level of whiteness, which borders on glow-in-the-dark). As I was walking to the institute, I could hear little footsteps behind me, running to catch up. They slowed to a walk and followed me about a pace behind. I turned and the little boy said, “OwareYOU!” To which I said, “Hello, how are you?” and he responded, “Fine.” English is the official language of Uganda and most people with rudimentary education speak it, but I’m not sure exactly how much English the children know.
My supervisor had informed me that the internet was both quick and reliable, but so far it doesn’t seem to be either (I’m writing this in Word because I have no internet access in the guesthouse.) Apparently, rain is enough to disrupt the connection in the guesthouse. I also discovered that the institution I’m working and living at blocks Facebook and Gmail chat, my main ways of communicating with friends and family, respectively. Also, perhaps more importantly, I can’t seem to access the remote desktop system our school provides for us to be able to use certain software programs. This could be bad if I end up needing any of those programs for my project (though I don’t think I will.)
Anyway, I’m lucky I have any internet access at all. And this place is way cool. There are tons of cool bird sounds and when I was walking to the institute earlier, I saw monkeys jumping from tree to tree. Monkeys! In a residential area! Despite the culture shock, I think I could get used to this. Unless I get malaria, food poisoning, my room becomes infested with any sort of pest, or a tick burrows into my skin. Then I’ll be on the next plane out. What can I say? I’m a wuss.
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