A Very Thankful Thanksgiving

When I think of the holiday season, one word comes to mind… Family.  People have many definitions for what family means, everything from a mom, dad, siblings, grandparents, cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts, and uncles, to friends, teachers, roommates, and Peace Corps Volunteers.  Well for the next one and a half holiday seasons, I will be spending it with the latter. 

Last week as my fellow PCV’s and I indulged in a Thanksgiving meal (more on that in the next post), we sat and did the traditional, “What I am Thankful For” activity.  I thought I would share…

- Clean water

- Ice

- Steady electricity

- Running water, both hot and cold

- Pillow top mattresses

- Meat that is already killed, cleaned, and packaged

- Refrigerators, which leads me to cold drinks, leftovers, and non-moldy cheese

- Lakes and rivers that do not contain Schistosomiasis

- Shaun T and his Insanity workouts

- Organized stores

- Ovens

- Wi-Fi Internet

- Police officers who distribute tickets and enforce traffic laws

- Reliable transportation options

- Taxi’s that do not exceed the amount of people allowed in the car

- Seatbelts

- American music

- A pen and paper to jot down moments of this crazy experience

- Greek yogurt

- A variety of food, which leads me to home cooked food

- Cold beer, cold soda, and cold water

- A compact rain jacket

- Kaiser Permanente

And now for some more meaningful ones…

- Living in a country filled with some of the most hospitable people I’ve met

- Family that is supportive, loving, and always there through the thick and thin

- Friends who still cherish our friendship despite the distance

- PCV’s who are there when you need to cry, scream, or share a breakthrough

- Family members of PCV’s who visit and bring American treasures

- Good health

I hope you all had a wonderful start to your holiday season and that you cherish every moment with your family… Whoever that may be.

A Day In The Life

Ask any current PCV or Returned PCV to talk about their daily routine and you will probably hear something along the lines of, “No such thing exists.”  I now know this to be (somewhat) true.  You never know what the developing world is going to throw at you.  For example, what you expect to be a simple 30-minute ride into town for fresh produce turns into a 120-minute, 3 different taxi ride experience.  Well, in hopes of giving all of my devoted blog followers, aka Daddy, Mamasita and sisters, here goes nothing…

Monday through Friday

6:00a – Rise and shine to the sound of goats and cows

6:10a – Lanudry!  I choose to do a little bit each morning so that the pile never gets to the size of Mt. Kilimanjaro. 

6:45a – Insanity workout with Shaun T

8:00a – Cold shower

8:30a – Prepare breakfast of egg whites or oatmeal or a protein shake or fresh pineapple or banana and peanut butter

9:00a to 4:00p – Head to the hospital for the day.  This can include helping organize the pharmacy, going on outreaches into the villages where I help conduct health education talks regarding HIV/AIDS, water and sanitation, hygiene, and nutrition.  This can also include simply talking with the hospital staff about America, helping clean mushrooms that’ll be used for sauce, or watching a football (soccer) game.

4:00p – Head back to my house to check email, get on Facebook, write a blog post, call the family, and decide what I will cook for dinner.

5:00p – Prepare dinner, which typically is sautéed vegetables over brown rice or eggs or homemade chips and salsa

6:30p – Writing and reflecting time.  This could be letters home to family and friends or to the 2^nd grade class I am corresponding with.  Sometimes this is in my journal or just on a piece of scrap paper.  Sometimes this is a simple to do list or shopping list.  Nonetheless, it includes pen and paper.

7:00p – Reading.  Thank gosh for my Nook.

8:00p – Movie time!  I know you are probably thinking, “A movie?  In the Peace Corps?!”  My response, “Heck yes!”  Thank gosh there are plenty of PCV’s out there with loaded external hard drives, which allows me the opportunity to watch everything from Glee and Modern Family to Grease and Toy Story.

10:00p – Lights out!  Unless there’s no electricity and they are out already. 

The above also includes the weekend, if I am at my site.  If I happen to be elsewhere, most likely at Brittany’s, it looks like this…

Friday

5:00p – Get to Brittany’s and begin to cook dinner.  This can include veggie enchiladas, macaroni and cheese, chicken flavored noodle soup, potato soup, or popcorn.

8:00p – Continue the epic 2-year cribbage battle.

11:30p – Lights out.

Saturday

7:00a – Rise and shine.  Again, to the sound of goats and cows or to her cat pouncing all over me like I am a bounce house.

8:00a – Begin to cook breakfast.  Eggs, potatoes, pineapple, tea…  Something along those lines.

9:00a to 5:00p – Play cribbage, watch How I Met Your Mother, nap, go for a hike, facials, nail painting, or simply watch her kitty for cheap entertainment.

5:00p – Figure out what to cook for dinner.

6:00p – Head to the market for food and cook dinner.

8:00p – Again, more cribbage to the sounds of Florence and The Machine, Mason Jennings, and Trampled by Turtles.

11:00p – Nighty night!

Sunday’s at Brittany’s looks pretty similar to Saturday, other than me returning to site by the early afternoon.

Amendments to the daily routine…

- Some days include a visit to Mbarara, my closest “city”, where I go to the market for fresh green beans, lettuce, eggplant, cucumbers, and carrots or stop by the Post Office to pick up letters and packages (Thanks Mom, Dad, Nana, sisters, and Copelands!)

- For weekend dinners I am usually with other Volunteers cooking Indian food, chili, Mexican (we really like Mexican!), amongst other cuisines.  This is usually followed by some sort of game.  Settlers of Katan anyone?

-  There are days at the hospital that are incredibly slow so sometimes I’ll head into town to visit with some of the friends I have made, like Ann.  My go to yogurt lady in town.

If you are any bit intrigued by this post please feel free to book your airline tickets over here.  If you do, the following can be inserted…

- A safari into Queen Elizabeth National Park

- Rafting The Nile

- Jinja (This includes milkshakes!)

- Making more Mexican food

- Visits with my awesome Peace Corps friends

- Lake Bunyoni

- Murchison Falls

Miss you all to the sky and back and even more…

(Adapted from my Mama’s saying of, “Love you to the sky and back and even more…”)  

¡Más Picturas!

For those who are not on Facebook (Daddy, this one is for you!), click on the link below and scroll to the end of the album for updated pictures... These include rafting The Nile, a day trip to the outskirts of Queen Elizabeth National Park, and my "2-room, concrete, bohemian jungle."  Thank you Clair, a fellow PCV, for that simple yet accurate description.

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.946155809310.2246303.29906868&type=3

Next post you ask?  A Day In The Life...  Keep your pretty little eyes out for it!

This Too Shall Pass

My biggest concerns when leaving America for Africa was how my emotional and mental states of mind were going to adapt.  Obviously this came after my family, friends, dog, gym, and spinach, banana, apple juice, and ice breakfast protein shakes.   

Up until the past couple of weeks, I have been great.  I was in what Peace Corps calls the Honeymoon Stage.  Please refer to the image at the end of this post.  Now don’t get me wrong, I experienced culture shock when I saw children in the streets begging for shillings, being introduced to the taxi parks in Kampala (Google an image), and having to watch for baboons and elephants crossing the road on a day drive through Queen Elizabeth National Park.  But this is nothing compared to the isolation one has at site. 

My site location could not be more ideal.  My original site had me far off the beaten path.  My closest volunteer would have been approximately 45 minutes away, up and down a dirt path.  I most definitely would have gone crazy.  Now I live in a well-populated area, where you can find eight Volunteers within a 30 minute, 3,000 shilling ($1.20 USD) taxi ride.  This means that the weekends are muzungu (white-person) friendly and typically include American food.  A definite boost for my mental health.  Now do not get me wrong, I absolutely love hanging out with Ugandans.  This is what the Peace Corps is all about…  Cultural exchange and friendship.  I am fortunate to work with a very intelligent group of Ugandans, who I enjoy walking through town with, attending the gym with, and talking about cultural differences.  The community members are great as well and most know me by my Runyankore name of Kyomuhendo.  Meaning: precious.  Thanks host mom! 

Things at site have been very, very slow.  There has been talk about relocating.  There have been rumors in local newspapers about the hospital being closed; therefore we are not getting any patients.  The hospital staff sits and watches television in between talking porridge for breakfast and matooke and beans for lunch.  These are issues that I do not know how to tackle.  These individuals are unbelievably intelligent and extremely hospitable, but the motivation is lacking for various reasons that are out of my control.  AKA commission.  AKA money.

These issues have not helped to contribute to the fact that the past week has been really difficult in terms of being homesick.  I miss my family.  A lot.  I thought the pictures lining my walls would help.  It does, but not as much as seeing them in person.  Then I log on to Facebook to see my friends’ statuses about new and exciting life events, only to realize that I am not there to help celebrate and congratulate.  I would kill for the gym, to see the familiar faces that occupied the free weights, spin bikes, and treadmills next to mine.  I miss my Mama’s cooking.  I miss running water that doesn’t run out when your hair is full of shampoo.

Even with missing all of these things in America, I love Uganda.  I love every moment that each new day brings.  I love the conversations that I have with Ugandans – about my family, friends, American healthcare, President Obama, and dispelling rumors that vampires are real.  I love that I have reconnected with my faith.  I love that I have time to read, reflect, and ruminate about my future.  I love having to decide what to eat for dinner – oatmeal, popcorn, or eggs.  I love feeling like a princess when I sleep under my mosquito net.  I love being in a country that got to celebrate a gold medal at the recent Olympics and bring in their 50^th year of independence.  

I have so much to look forward to in the coming months that my funk should pass.  I have Thanksgiving at Lake Bunyoni (again, Google an image) and Christmas with newfound friends.  I will be reunited with my training class for In-Service Training in which case we will then tackle rafting the Nile River.  I have been selected as a camp Counselor for National Camp GLOW.

There will be highs and there will be lows.  There is no doubt that these are what will make me a better-rounded individual.  This is just all a part of the experience that is the Peace Corps.  

You Must Be 48’’ To Ride

Even given my brief travel throughout Uganda, I am confident that I live off of one of the nicest roads in the country.  This has mainly come from other PCV’s stories and my exploration of the dirt roads that exist out in the deep villages.  More on that later.

Most of my travel is from Mbarara to my site, which is a simple 30-minute taxi ride on a paved road, minimal potholes, and no crazy winding roads.  Granted the taxi drivers will crush nine to ten full sized humans in a 1988 Toyota Corolla, five in the back, four in the front, including one in the driver’s seat, plus a couple babies and a flock of chickens in the trunk, the drive is relatively pleasant.  The two lessons I have learned is to one, bring an iPod to drown out the blasting Ugandan music they blast over the speakers, and two, the more people there are to squish you in the better.  It replaces the concept of seatbelts, which are clearly not a viable option.

Since being at site, I have been able to accompany the hospital staff into the surrounding villages when they go on antenatal and treatment clinics.  Now these are the roads I do not envy!  We are talking the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, minus the awesome troop vehicle.  The hospital has a truck, in which case I feel somewhat safe and secure in.  Lately though the truck has been out of commission, which means we get to take the 1990 Toyota Corolla.  It’s a popular car option.  When we go over the humps and bumps, I am terrified the bottom of the car is going to fall off, leaving us to Flintstone it to our designated location.  My head bobbles like those dolls, leaving me with a pounding headache by the time we arrive, in which case I have screaming babies receiving immunizations to help ease the pain. 

I understand this is all a part of the experience of living in a developing country with a developing infrastructure.  Like I said, many roads are pleasant to drive on – Kampala to Mbarara, Mbarara to Ishaka – and many roads are getting work done to make the drive more pleasant – Masaka to Kampala, Mbarara to Kabale.  These are the trips where I can even manage a to take a catnap.  With the good comes the bad though.  And oh are they bad.  My friend who lives about an hour from me is approximately 14 kilometers, 8.69 miles, off the main road, where you have to travel in a taxi up a terrible dirt road with 12-14 other Ugandans because the driver wants to ensure he will get his moneys worth in the event no one wants to travel the opposite way.  This trip, which would take between 15 and 20 minutes in America, takes 45 to 60 minutes in Uganda. 

Traveling in this country is one of the most tiresome adventures yet also one of the most rewarding.  You tend to met incredible people, like a young woman about to graduate with her Masters in Business Administration who has traveled to Australia, and you get to answer all sorts of questions about America, such as, “I heard that there are no cars in America and that you all take airplanes to your destinations.”  Sheer entertainment.

For those under 48’’ and booking their tickets to come and visit yours truly, bring a booster seat.  That way you can guarantee a seat to yourself.  Maybe.  Even those under 60’’, AKA Juls, just know that you will find yourself between four Ugandans in the backseat, one who is probably breastfeeding her child. 

This is Africa.