I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

I just returned from a week long conference where the 160+ PCV’s gathered to share concerns, ideas, thoughts, and reflect on their service.  It was a great opportunity to network and meet those who live across the country.  It has also been a great reunion with my besties, who I have failed to write about so here is a little bio about them.  In no particular order.

Sophie:  Hailing from Tucson, Soph was my roomie back in Philly during Staging.  In she walked with a MacBook Pro, TOMS, and equal amounts of luggage.  At that point I knew we’d be friends forever and everything would work out.  She is incredibly intelligent, passionate, and eager, all of which are awesome characteristics to hang around.  We like to make up rhymes about ourselves, watch episode after episode of New Girl, and indulge in a caramel Cadbury chocolate bar every now and then.  When we moved to Kulika, our room was the gathering spot for everyone and we soon moved the two beds together to create the Honeymoon Suite.  Kulika loved the idea so much than when we returned, our room layout remained the same.  Call us trendsetters.     

Caitlin:  Coming from the state of The Great Lakes, Caitlin is also apart of the quarter century club with me.  She is one of the most down to Earth people I have met and has the ability to calm someone down, even on their most stressed out day.  Which let’s face it, over here that can be quite frequent.  Our conversations tend to centralize on rodents and our fear of them, family and friends, and chocolate.  A lot of chocolate.  According to Sophie, “Caitlin isn’t our funny friend.  She is our fun friend.”  Well, after a couple Ugandan Warigi and Pineapple Juice drinks later, she is both. 

Julia:  Also from Michigan, Julia is my little sister in the Southern Hemisphere.  She reminds me of my Bestie from home (love ya Em!), which is one of the best feelings in the world when the days get rough.  She is super, duper smart, gave her University of Michigan class speech during graduation, which at the end she unzipped her gown and was wearing a unitard in the school colors.  You can watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f2d0VPU3Zg. She is all about Thanksgiving, is ready to kill the turkey with me, and together we will take Uganda by storm.

Kat:  Big, bad kitty Kat.  Meow!  Her previous profession before Peace Corps?  Facebook stalker.  During Staging, I walk out of the elevator and Kat proceeds to say, “Hi Tara Matthews from Novato, California.”  I was a little weirded out.  Then during Training she told me, “I figured that we’d become friends here because on your Facebook page you said that you like to run.  So do I.”  After this, I finally asked her name and her prediction was right.  We did become great friends. 

Patrick: Personally, I think Pat looks like Edward Cullen, with golden locks and a better sense of fashion.  He is the only male of the group and let’s face it, he is one lucky duck.  He is a witty character whose texts have me scratching my head for an equally clever and entertaining comeback.  Unfortunately that thought happens to come about 20 minutes too late.  A Game of Thrones enthusiast, dark chocolate aficionado, and a proud Cheesehead/Wisconsinite, Pat is pretty cool. 

A fellow Chaco lover and owner of a sweet hammock, I have no doubt about our friendship.  Plus we both have French Presses.  Hello coffee! 

Our name: The sexy 6.

Left to Right: Kat, Julia, Sophie, Pat, Me, Caitlin

The other group of friends I want to mention are those from my training class who are living in the Southwest Region with me for the next two years.  Again, in no particular order.

Michelle:  First off, she is more commonly known as Meish.  During satellite training, we lived close to one another and spent every morning walking to class while children lined the streets yelling, “Mu-zun-gu” at us.  It was like we were at the center of a parade.  For 4 weeks.  And we loved every moment.  Meish became my study buddy for language and soon thereafter we discovered we both had an equal obsession for chapatti, milking cows, and The Hunger Games.  She can rock out to the ukulele, draw awesome drawings, and make some bomb tortillas.  Also, be on the lookout for her new book, No Dice.  It will be full of her brilliant, random, amazing ideas.  For example, what do you do when you don’t have any dice. 

Candy:  A fellow Guatemala invitee, we are now taking Uganda by storm.  One American meal at a time.  By popular vote, Candy is the best cook in our group.  In no time she can whip up some banana fritters, candied g-nuts, breaded eggplant, and a ridiculous pot of macaroni and cheese.  No only does she keep our bellies full, she will have you laughing in no time with her bowl of nouns game.  Candy is passionate, ambitious, and I have no doubt she will do an incredible amount of work while here. 

Robyn:  “Are you Tara?”  “Yea.  Robyn?”  “Yup.”  “Awesome!  Can you believe that in just a couple days we’ll be in Africa?”  “Maybe we should get a drink.”  This was our first conversation back in Philly after I found out that she was in the hotel.  Thanks to our Facebook group.  Robyn loves to go boneshaking (dancing), travel, and speak the local language.  Her confidence is exuberant and she is ready to tackle the next two years. 

Patrick:  This elusive and rarely seen out and about danger Panda roams this hills of Kabale.  He is innovatively building a plethora of food apparatus’ with just piles of bricks and sticks.  The hills are alive with Patrick’s eclectic music that gets the Southwest in the dance mood.  This avid Friday Night Lights fan supplies all of Peace Corps with his extensive external harddrive.  (Input given by Murph).

Clair:  My only other California girl in my group… So Cal that is.  She is our go to medical guru in the Southwest being that she is a nurse.  Incredibly intelligent and intellectual, we have awesome conversations.  We live close in terms of Peace Corps, 2 hours that is, so we spend our weekends cooking, hanging out, and hitting up the gym in Ishaka.

Brittany:  A 10-minute taxi ride and 1,000 Ugandan Shillings later, I can be at the front steps of Brittany’s palace.  Her 3-room place, fit with running water, electricity, and a toilet is my go to place when I need a getaway.  Brittany is a hoot and keeps every gathering lively.  She introduced my liking to guacamole and can down a whole bowl of the stuff for dinner.  It’s impressive. 

Eric:  The tallest man in his pygmy village, this quiet but loveable Michigander is surrounded by the beautiful landscape of the impenetrable forest of Bwindi, where gorillas and red tail monkeys dwell, frequent his house, and stroke his head.  Eric is living the true essence of Gorillas in the Mist.  (Again, all Murphy).

Mary:  This bird loving woman has spread her wings many times and traveled all over the world from Navy posts in Maine to the west coast in Oregon.  Her Icelandic mother should be thanked for the many packages and generous distribution of Mac and Cheese and tootsie pops.  This fellow muzungu blends in among a scenery of lush greenery and international tourists from every corner of the world.  (Courtesy: Murphy).

Murphy:  Sick since day 14 with diarrhea, back spasms, and suspected worms, giardia, amoebas, and tropical spores, this Bostonian has been a trooper.  Even with the above, we can boneshake the night away with his signature move.  The seagull.  Book a flight and you can see this happen in person.

Kendra:  Our designated regional social chair and hair cutter, she too can boneshake til the early morning.  A fellow Rolex enthusiast, this lively Wisconsinite with a Minnesota accent, is a central part of our Southwest nucleus.  Our friendship was destined from the beginning since we were meant to be in Guatemala together.  Now we’ll take on Africa. 

Jim:  This beautiful Ginger from Colorado (via Santa Barbara) is an awe-inspiring photographer and a wooden but magical dancer.  This Buddhist with a heart of gold is a favorite among our Peace Corps group.  Actually, among Peace Corps Uganda.  Due to his winning personality, even in times of pantless-ness, he will overcome any obstacle.  (Again, written by Murph). 

Front Row, From Left to Right: Meish, Mary, Robyn
Back Row, Left to Right: Murph, Jim, Clair, Candy, Me, Kendra, Brittany, Pat, Eric

I should also give a shout out to the other PCT’s in my group who have been an awesome support system, a wealth of information, and a group of amazing people who I anticipate will remain in my friend group long after this experience.  Love you all more than the Ugandans love their matooke! 

1 Month Down. 23 Left To Go.

It seems like a year ago when I decided to fly half way across the world to begin the adventure of a lifetime.  Well.  It’s actually only been 110 days. 

A lot has happened.  A lot has changed.  And every bit has helped me recognize who I am and the potential of who I can become.  Both here and when I return.  In 687 days. 

So.  Go and grab a cup of coffee, short call (pee) if you have too, and make sure your chair is comfy.  This is going to be a long one…

After a day, or two, of a crazy travel itinerary (SF to Philly, Philly to NY, NY to South Africa, and South Africa to Uganda), my fellow PCT’s and I arrived in Uganda.  After meeting some of the staff and locating 180 pieces of luggage, only 1 of which was lost, we were transported to Lweza Conference Center, where we got our first taste of Ugandan food.  Which lacks one very important thing.  Flavor.  Matooke for example.  Mashed plantains.  Boiled beyond the point that one can imagine.  It’s essentially like eating water.  We were given our malaria prophylaxis and spent the night under our princess mosquito nets.  The days of hot showers had officially ended. 

From there we moved to an awesome organic farm in Wakiso District called Kulika.  It was here that we began our training on cross culture, Luganda, which is the language spoken around the capital, Kampala, and talked to medical about malaria, worms, mango and Nairobi fly, jiggers, and of course, poop.  Lots and lots of poop.  We had one on one conversations with our Country Director, Program Manager, and Program Specialist, all of whom are incredibly intelligent and are constantly working to help improve the program.  We also were given the language that we’d be learning, which allowed us to learn where we’d be living during our service.  I was assigned Runyankore/Rukiga, which is spoken in the Southwestern Region of Uganda.  The land of gorilla trekking, Queen Elizabeth National Park, tasty honey, tea fields, Lake Bunyoni, and lots of plantain fields.  This is the only region that is located in the Southern Hemisphere, which is awesome.  Also, it was rumored that this area was the coldest in the country.  I attest that this is false.  I am rocking shorts and tanks day and night.  And cold to Ugandans is like 70 degrees Fahrenheit. 

After the language announcement, the 11 other PCT’s and I assigned to learn R/R traveled to our satellite region in Kabwohe, where we would live with host families for one month and study our language with PC instructors.  I lived with some of the most hospitable people I have met to date.  My host family is Muslim, but as my host mom would say, “Tara, we are Modern Muslims.”  Tank tops are completely acceptable, shorts were a-okay, and going to the Mosque was not high on the priority list.  I had two host sisters, a mom, and a dad.  My host mom gave me a local name, Chomhendo, which means precious.  Cute, right?  The family owned two coffee factories, one in town and one in Mbarara, which my host dad was always at, since it was coffee season.  I have still yet to meet him.  My host mom is a caterer and would prepare food for weddings, funerals, and other large-scale events.  Ironically, she rarely cooked at home and rather employed a friend to cook for her.  5,000 a day to cook, go to the market, clean, and do laundry.  That’s $2USD.  Outside our back door, were small 1-bedroom places that other family members lived in, so I was around family, children, and friends.  Yes, I had to use a pit latrine.  Yes, I had to bucket bathe.  As my host mom said, “Peace Corps said the best volunteers are ones who don’t have a toilet and have to bucket bathe.”  My quads may disagree.

For forty-eight days, eight hours a day, I lived, breathed, and studied R/R.  I talked with community members, did homework with my sister, and had mock LPI’s with my teachers.  Why you ask?  Why study a language only spoken in a tiny corner of a country the size of Oregon?  Simple answer.  I had to pass my Language Proficiency Interview at Intermediate Low.  Which I did.  Except I got Intermediate Med.  I have a fancy certificate to prove it. 

Oh.  I also met the President and shook his hand.  He was in town for the birthday party of one of his assistant’s father’s 110^th birthday. 

We left satellite and headed back to Kulika for technical health training, which will help us perform our volunteer responsibilities at site.  We also got our site announcements, which you can read more about in Minor Change of Plans.  We traveled back to Lweza for a Supervisor’s Workshop, where I met one of the clinical officers at Hunter’s Foundation Hospital (HFH) and then on July 26, we took the fancy oath that the President takes to become official Volunteers.  The 45 of us that started training together finished together.  We danced the night away and the following morning left for our sites.

I moved into what one of my fellow PCV’s calls my, “Bohemian, romantic, concrete cottage.”  Pictures to be uploaded soon.  I spent the first week painting, meeting my carpenter to make furniture, learning how to cook for one, integrating into my community, and meeting the hospital staff.  I spent the last week getting rid of Fred and Stuart.  The gecko and the mouse.  They have left. 

I am now just over one month at site and loving it.  My house is becoming a home.  I am recognizing my role at HFH.  My neighbors continue to help tutor me in R/R.  I get enough Internet to keep in contact with those back home.  The children hug me when I make the 10-minute walk from town to my compound and muzungu is no longer a name shouted to me when I walk the streets. 

Life is looking good.