Uganda be lovin' life...

on the road

2010-04-03T03:32:00.000+03:00

this rocky hill looks like a medieval castle!

here's a closeup of petrified wood - if we took some home, we'd be cursed!

from boulder, utah, we took the burr trail into capitol reef national park
the dirt road was empty, beautiful, and in surprisingly good shape
(especially given this forbidding sign the the start)

it began with a dozen or so miles through the "long canyon"
(red cliffs on either side of the road)

we slithered/strolled into a surprising slot canyon just off the burr trail - cool!

(this is ryan's trusty taurus, all dusted up from the trail)
exiting the long canyon, the burr trail drops off into a valley
and enters capitol reef national park

the gorgeous, snow-capped henry mountains

in sharp contrast to the stop-and-go roads in zion, the burr trail was all ours

the henry mountains once again, as seen from a scenic pass on route 12

bryce canyon

2010-04-01T02:03:00.001+03:00

a fresh april fool's day snow had everything looking especially frosty

including the red hoodoos in the canyon

erosion can be a rather impressive thing

see? it can build a bridge

this animal friend was calm and enjoyed eating leaves
(vastly preferable to those who leap into moving vehicles)

zion

2010-03-31T02:19:00.002+03:00

zion is potentially cool, but was seriously overcrowded when we went
we enjoyed bryce and the capitol reef area much more

grand canyon

2010-03-29T01:53:00.000+03:00

we began our great southwestern national park tour at the grand canyon,
which is quite a bit more exciting than your average hole in the ground!

joshua tree

2010-03-24T20:22:00.000+03:00

on a wednesday, we drive into the desert!

joshua tree national park greets us with boulders

the rocks are surprisingly grippy and pretty easy to climb and scramble upon

like clouds, they beg our imagination to assign a likeness

the joshua tree, a real desert hero

joshua pose!

cholla cactus garden, a spiny, prickly place...

the san gorgonio pass wind farm is home to hundreds of whooshing windmills...
...quite a sight to behold

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 7)

2010-03-19T10:22:00.002+03:00

you thought he was gone, but no!
just enjoying a long cold winter in a furry ushanka.

the aptly named

2010-03-09T22:10:00.008+03:00

a cold february day on the great wall of china!

this is a "wild wall" portion of the greater great wall
(thankfully touristless)

"wild" because many sections of the wall in this area were in ruin...

...and in some cases, completely overgrown

it's mind-boggling how the wall clings to the terrain across intense elevation changes

further evidence of my visit!

a different type of streetwalker

2010-03-07T05:32:00.003+03:00

when you see something like this on the street in a foreign country...

i find it's best to do something like this!

bafflement: it's what's for dinner!

2010-03-05T11:11:00.003+03:00

when someone like me sits down to eat alone at a restaurant in beijing, knowing not a word of mandarin, it can be comforting to see some english descriptions of dishes on the menu. however, ripe with the finest chingrish around, these translations can cause more confusion (and tears of hilarity) than clarity. enjoy the following selections from a place i visited for lunch.

poor piggy

for those in a hurry

you might be too if you were scalloped

a vegetarian dish, perhaps?

?!?!?!

...

"sheep's leg greedy bullfrog (do the boiler...)"
i guess that's what the bullfrog gets for being greedy

BONUS: "jumbotron" description from an acrobats performance

"bounding vigorously - ball catching"
(what this turned out to be was a mind-blowing juggling show)

mondulkiri, cambodia

2010-02-21T14:31:00.002+03:00

my last major excursion in cambodia was to the eastern province of mondulkiri, a mountainous region where nights are cool, ants are many, and elephants are man's best friend.

my main goal was to travel by (elephant) foot into the forest,
which was pretty easy to do with twenty bucks.

i was only "saddled up" for half the day (i walked back alongside the elephants) because the "basket" in which we were seated was so small that my knees were tucked into my armpits for about the whole ride. not comfortable. but fun anyway.

we ended at a waterfall and swimming hole, where a group of kids were launching themselves into the water below. it would have been pretty interesting to have had access to such a playground as a kid.

after a much-needed bath, our elephant took a few minutes to scratch an itch...

this was how we moved (note the child "driver")

for five relaxing nights, i stayed in this simple little cabin -
an excellent way to wrap up my time in southeast asia

"rabbit island" (koh tonsey, cambodia)

2010-02-15T14:29:00.000+03:00

a short boat ride form the southern coastal town of kep is "rabbit island",
where we stayed for a couple nights in bamboo bungalows.

all along the beach were small groves of trees with hammocks strung on every available limb

bokor hill (kampot, cambodia)

2010-02-13T14:22:00.001+03:00

back on the motorcycle again, we set out to reach the top of bokor hill. it's a very eerie place, featuring some palatial old houses, hotels, a church and a casino, all long ago abandoned and in ruin. at the top of the hill (1000m), we were among the clouds, which added to the spookiness of the place. the main access road is under construction and usually off limits to anyone but organized tour groups. however, it was luckily open for a few days because of the chinese new year; we happily took advantage!

i suspect this was a concrete water tower in its day

here is the casino building, perhaps the largest structure on bokor hill.
every part of the building is still accessible.

behind the casino is a cliff that tumbles off into the whooping, chirping, cackling mountain forest, on this day almost completely obscured by the clouds

vientiane (laos)

2010-02-09T14:20:00.000+03:00

i was only in vientiane for one day, during which i visited a couple used bookshops and loa pdr's very own arc de triomphe style monument. form the top, i could see most of the city, which looks like little more than a town. it must be the calmest capital city in the world...

vang vieng (laos)

2010-02-07T14:09:00.000+03:00

on the road from luang prabang, there were some incredible rock formations and mountains...

...which i tried to capture out the window of our van

i learned to ride a small motorcycle and made myself busy cruising around the
villages west of vang vieng town

the mountains are riddled with caves and i squirmed through child-sized crevices and tunnels on my stomach until i realized they are certainly not made for giants. i spent the rest of my time in daylight.

with sunset approaching, i rode back to town, which has turned into an alarming, spring-break-esque party capital of southeast asia. i really don't know how a scene like vang vieng comes to be, but it is fairly shocking (seemingly oblivious to the local population)...and thankfully avoidable with some effort :)

luang prabang (laos)

2010-02-04T13:48:00.001+03:00

a gilded pagoda alongside a bend in the mekong river

peaceful mountain sunset...

...diligently captured by a frenzied gaggle of other point-and-shooters

on a bike ride, i came upon this nice view of town from a mountain pass

here is the street where i stayed for the first 3 nights
(i had to move because of babies and ringtones)

riverside gardening, with stylish hat

monks out for a stroll

kuang si falls (laos)

2010-02-01T10:45:00.004+03:00

numerous falls and turquoise pools in a jungle...

(throngs of tourists, not pictured)

ahhh...

the colors continue to boggle my mind...why so blue?

tuol sleng genocide museum

2010-01-27T13:43:00.000+03:00

it's a bizarre thing to have now visited two countries where an unimaginable genocide was perpetrated so recently. tuol sleng is a former prison in phnom penh where khmer rouge officials interrogated, tortured, and killed their captives. today it is a museum dedicated to telling the story of the brutal years of oppression suffered under pol pot and the khmer rouge.

prison cells, barely wide enough for my shoulders

a torture cell for those accused of leading opposition efforts against pol pot

ancient temples (siem reap, cambodia)

2010-01-22T13:07:00.000+03:00

the enormous, amazing angkor wat.
angkor wat is the most famous temple in the region, which
is home to dozens of ancient temples in varying degrees of ruin.
i imagine one could spend weeks here and not see it all.

a "finger dancer", one of countless etchings in the stone

one of more than 200 stone faces at the temple bayon, in angkor thom

a headless statue in preah khan
(all the statues with heads still in tact have been moved to museums)

nature vying to reclaim the east gate of ta som...

...as well as this inner chamber of ta prohm

banteay srey is small in comparison to other temples in the area, and remarkably well preserved
(with evident assistance from conservationists)

the carvings here are perhaps more intricate than those of any other temple...

...with a level of depth and detail that is hard to fathom

kbal spean is a series of carvings along a river in some nearby hills

known as "the river of a thousand lingas", kbal spean features, well,
thousands of stone phallic symbols called "lingas"

the lingas lead to a waterfall...

...where some local kids were cooling off

we ended our three-day templing spree at phnom bok, a ruined temple atop a large hill
with an impressive view of the surrounding countryside

cambodian countryside

2010-01-19T12:57:00.003+03:00

cycling some timber...

...perhaps to build a house like this one.
i thought it was interesting how most houses in rural areas here are built on stilts.
it obviously helps during times of high water, but i've been told the design
helps keep the house cool - a useful thing in this muggy climate.

a 2009 bush holiday

2010-01-03T19:44:00.008+03:00

very common traditional housing in busia, near lake victoria

most people in uganda have a place where they live and work, though it is almost always different from their village "home." in fact, given the proximity of these villages homes to the nearest employment opportunity, such a distinction is unavoidable. so whenever you ask someone where he/she is from, you should specify what you mean - do you want to know where they live or where their village is?

when the christmas holiday approaches, people begin migrating back to their village homes, where they will find children, grandparents, spouses, and siblings. transport prices double and in some cases triple as people shift from one part of the country to another. kampala (uganda's only major transport hub) slows to a frustrating crawl amidst choking throngs of pedestrians and trapped vehicles under an unusually thick haze of pollution. i had to travel through kampala several days before christmas last year and swore i'd never do it again. it is complete and utter madness - kind of like a giant, filthy mall.

this year, i happily accepted several invitations to visit friends of mine at their village homes, staying far away from the capital city and relying almost exclusively on the kindness and curiosity of several ugandan strangers who picked me up along the road...

* * *

neighbor's compound is situated in the midst of several enormous mango trees, around which sit five circular huts. the dwellings are modestly constructed out of crumbling, exposed brick and are more or less half-finished. i believe they might appear quite differently if this were the site of their original home, a permanent place built up over many years. but, sadly, her family was forced to flee from that established setting during "the insurgency" in 1989 during which soldiers commandeered the area, cutting down trees, destroying houses, looting the place and stripping it of all practical value. when neighbor came back more than a decade later, there was nothing left. her family decided to start over in a new location less than a kilometer away, which is where i visited.

a mango tree is rather impressive, like a wide, dense, towering cloud of leaves and branches whose ceiling is conveniently about six feet off the ground. it serves as a great shelter and allows most people (excluding yours truly) to walk comfortably underneath. to have one of these trees in your family's compound, let alone three, is a blessing, especially when they are producing. i was given a bowl of five ripe, juicy mangoes after lunch, which i enjoyed thoroughly. actually, i've eaten so many in the last couple weeks that my lips are raw.

it was coming to dusk as we sat drinking hot cocoa from mismatched mugs under one of the three mango trees, which had a pile of firewood - for cooking - stacked at its base. i almost didn't notice the hen as it approached, but my curiosity piqued when it hopped up from one piece of firewood to another until it was halfway up the tree trunk. once there, it stopped, looking befuddled. i asked my neighbor what was going on and she told me, very matter-of-factly that the chickens were getting ready for bed. they have been trained to sleep in trees! i think it's actually a regional phenomenon for this to happen and some chickens do it instinctively - up in the limbs, they are safe from predators and less prone to disease. as an added bonus for me, it's hilarious!

within minutes of my question, i saw a whole gaggle of hens climbing the mango tree on the opposite edge of the compound. one by one, they hopped up into its branches not to be seen again until morning. all were safely nestled above except for the rooster, who is apparently too heavy to hop to such a height on his own. but he's not left to his own devices on the ground; one of the (five) wives of the compound picked him up, walked him very calmly over to the edge of the tree's canopy, did a full-body wind-up, and threw him full-force into the mango tree! the rooster squawked and flapped and unsteadily came to rest amid his leafy evening surroundings. good night, delicious bird.

from a clear patch of night sky a half-moon was shining, the light of which was enough to illuminate the compound and allow us to do most of what we needed without a lantern. nights like these are neighbor's favorite; she can sit outside until very late, conversing with others and still able to observe the entire village. on this evening, as our yawning grew more and more contagious, we noticed dark storm clouds organizing themselves in the moon's glow from the opposite direction.

i entered one of the huts, which i shared on this night with the head of the compound and husband to the five wives. we settled in and, moments after we laid down, we could hear the first fat, heavy drops of what promised to be a solid rainfall. after several false starts, the sky opened up on our iron sheets, increasing in intensity until it was deafening. despite its alarming volume, this sound can be a very relaxing thing, conjuring a feeling similar to that of being warm in bed while cold winds are howling outside. just knowing that the crazy outside cannot touch the cozy inside amplifies this comfort. i was consciously appreciating this when i thought i felt something hit my leg... then my arm... and then my eyelid. the weather was no longer being held at bay by our roof - it had forced its way in and began raining onto my bed! i was too tired to react (nothing could be done, nothing at all) so i just pulled my sheet up and tried to settle in the dry spots. it was likely a wind-related issue, because my indoor rain stopped after only about ten minutes while the outdoor rain continued long after i fell asleep.

over a dinner of freshly roasted chicken earlier in the evening (the only bird who didn't make it up into the tree that night), i was informed of various "chicken customs" among the tribes of uganda. the common thread among all of them is that a chicken must be slaughtered for a visitor. but beyond that we find deviations: some cultures force the visitor(s) to eat the entire bird on his/her/their own while other cultures send the visitor away with a live chicken and any remaining cooked chicken from the meal. in the particular region of uganda i was visiting, the hosts customarily join the visitor(s) in the meal (which i think is a healthy practice) and then send a live chicken with the visitor when they go. the following day, i had the pleasure of carrying a living, pooping chicken on my 3 hour journey home, along with a guitar and a backpack stuffed with sweet potatoes, maize, freshly picked oranges, and an untouched change of clothes.

* * *

$25 per person bought each of my friends 12.5 kilos of meat this year

yes, christmas in uganda is a pretty big deal. as one friend said, people begin planning (saving) for "their christmas" from the first of january. it is a time for people to come together...to come together and eat meat. groups of friends and colleagues pool resources and pay their share slowly, bit by bit, throughout the year to save enough money for a cow/bull. our college staff had organized such a group and held their slaughtering party on the 23rd. music blared from a boom-box while the meat was cut, weighed, and distributed in the blazing midday sun. on this day, it turned out that each $25 share bought 12.5 kilograms of beef for the share owner to carry home to his/her family. as a lucky bystander at the slaughtering party who grilled up four extraordinarily fresh charity steaks on the 23rd and as a guest at two of the homes, i had more than my fill of beef this holiday season. moving through villages on the road to my counterpart's home, he said (just as i was thinking the very same thing myself): "these festivities are smelly, as you can see..." it was in the air, the smell of raw, not-so-fresh-anymore meat. needless to say, by the end of it all i was just craving an apple and a celery stalk.

season's greetings, phonetically speaking

two years is long, but not forever

2009-12-04T22:53:00.000+03:00

somehow, there is only one page left on the 2009 calendar mom made for me last year and i have a feeling it's not gonna last long; i'm caught in one of those pockets where time just runs like mad. our students finished their final exams today and head home tomorrow morning for the long holiday. while i welcome the peace and quiet this change will bring, i'm less excited about the implications. the school year is now over and following soon after is my peace corps service. between now and january 14th, i'll be tying up the loose ends of all my projects and will hopefully be able to post something meaningful about what has been going on recently. i'm really pleased with how things are winding up and couldn't be more grateful for this opportunity i've had here. more to come soon...

chwarino?!

2009-11-08T19:10:00.004+03:00

watedo nangin (we're cooking clothes!)

there is a thing i usually say to people whenever i'm complimented on my local language skills: "afwonjere moth moth; kis ndelo amedo wach achiel..." which basically means, "i'm learning slowly, each day i add one word." this, sadly, is a lie. i have not consistently dedicated the time needed to advance my vocabulary on a daily basis, but this stock saying serves well in response to random praise from strangers. keep in mind, this praise is often triggered by the simplest things, like greeting, which i have been doing since week one.

having said all that, i love picking up new words in the language and try to seize every opportunity i can. i recently learned an obscure and somewhat depressing word: chwarino (bed bugs). i wish i could say i had no particular reason to ask, but i suspected them of having infiltrated my tiny ugandan home. i had been waking up fairly often with bites in suspicious patterns and finally decided to put my foam mattress under the sun. having never seen a bed bug before, i wasn't sure what to look for, but i did notice some conspicuous insect activity on the underside of the mattress. not certain whether they traveled outside with the foam or hopped on once it was under the sun, i chose to err on the side of caution. i've heard the horror stories and do not want to become another victim!

i quickly organized an extermination plan, which included a college maintenance staff member applying chemicals to my bed and wooden furniture on a tuesday. as we discussed our plan of attack, i jumped at the chance to employ some clever dhopadhola:

chwarino tye i ot paran...jorach maaa.
(bedbugs are in my house. they are so bad.)

wanyalo neko chwarino saw'adi?
(we are able to kill bedbugs at what time?)

as it turned out, 3pm was a good time. to give our poison a chance to dissipate afterward, i spent a couple nights in tororo town, 5km away - i had hoped the body count would be high but was not willing to be among the dead. the next step (which i grossly underestimated) was to come back home thursday morning and boil my clothes. to do so, i needed to first explain myself and request a big saucepan from the cooking staff upon my return:

tich aryo, waketho yath i kitanda paran.
(on tuesday, we put poison on my bed frame.)

konon, amito moro pii i sapik ma dwong t'atedo nangin jie.
(today i want to boil water in a big saucepan and cook all my clothes.)

i am by no means a dhopadhola specialist, but i love feeling conversational...especially when it allows me to say ridiculous things. in this case, i got to say such things while moving almost completely out of my house and then back in again over the course of a day. several students thankfully came to my aid in the boiling and poison-blasting effort. it's hard to say what effect this may ultimately have on the suspected invaders, but it was a pretty amusing and exhausting experience. so far so good - i've been sleeping soundly and bite-free. but just typing that makes me feel like i'm foolishly tempting the chwarino gods...

the inexplicable dismissal of our country director

2009-09-08T12:14:00.006+03:00

our peace corps post in uganda was thriving under the direction of larry brown, someone who is sincerely concerned about the safety, support, and effectiveness of each and every volunteer in the field. he is the best example i can imagine of a country director acting in the best interest of volunteers in the country he was serving. it certainly felt like he was indeed here to serve us. larry understood his reason for being here as a commitment to support each and every volunteer living and working in uganda and, by doing so, better serve the communities in which we live. put quite simply, he was an enthusiastic, outspoken advocate for us.

it was energizing to have an administration encourage us and pledge support so seriously. under larry's leadership, we felt empowered. not in a rebellious way, but in a positive way, we were urged to take personal responsibility and be proactive. he believed, quite correctly, that this post wouldn’t exist without the volunteers. larry gave us a voice, compelling us to personally invest in the future value of peace corps uganda. in my opinion, this is exactly the role a country director should play.

it is extremely disappointing to know that his efforts were not only ignored by those in a higher position, but that they may have ultimately lead to his termination. if the peace corps administration in washington does not exist for the purpose of supporting posts, volunteers, and the communities in which we live and work, then what purpose does it serve? i cannot imagine. but i do know that the decision to remove larry brown from his position as country director was not made in the interest of supporting myself and my fellow volunteers here in uganda. in fact, it has been a significant disservice to us.

although there has been a fair amount of speculation about larry brown’s removal, we volunteers have received absolutely no official explanation for the decision. perhaps more disturbingly, for three weeks we had not received a single piece of correspondence from peace corps administration, washington or otherwise, informing us that any decision was made at all. we all learned of the momentous development through a haphazard string of volunteer-to-volunteer cell phone calls, text messages, and speculative emails. as i write this, my country director has left uganda for his home in the us, and no one knows why. all signs on the ground suggest that the situation was severely mishandled and should be investigated.

i am confused and saddened by the departure of such an energetic and inspirational country director and disappointed in those who made this bewildering decision. the responsible person or group of people has clearly lost sight of the peace corps agency’s purpose – to act in the best interest of volunteers serving worldwide, and the communities in which we live. peace corps was created for that purpose and in this case i feel that it has failed. we deserve better.

transportation III: two wheels go a long way

2009-09-06T10:26:00.001+03:00

carrying what... local brew? paint? water? petrol?
my money is on the brew :)

it must have been a huge revolution when bicycles first reached tororo (around 1980 by some local accounts). it is difficult enough for me to imagine this area without the now ubiquitous motorcycles, but without bicycles? it would be an almost unrecognizable place. a significant portion of uganda's population gets around on two wheels these days; you can find bicycles, motorcycles, and their taxi incarnations (bodas) in even the smallest village trading centers.

a common means of generating income - the bicycle taxi
(note: a real bicycle taxi has a colorful, padded back seat...with tassels)

in addition to their drivers, bicycles and motorcycles are often seen carrying a mind-boggling variety of cargo, including: humans (several times, i've seen six people on one motorcycle), crates of soda and beer bottles (both full and empty), jerrycans of pretty much anything, enormous sacks of grain or charcoal, numerous bunches of green bananas, firewood, live animals (snorting pigs, wailing goats, clucking chickens, stupid turkeys who defecate on my veranda), less road-worthy bicycles on their way to be repaired, bed frames, couches, coffins, even a merchant's entire inventory displayed in a flimsy, ten-foot-high, plywood kiosk. it's rather incredible; if something needs to be transported, odds are good that it can be moved on two wheels. personally, i have been adventurous enough to strap my backpack, my guitar, and a jerrycan to my bike. but that's child's play here.

a shoe merchant transports his wares through mukono
(how does this work?!?!)
(note the driver's winter attire...it's 85 degrees!)

despite all these fancy, two-wheeled options, when it comes to moving around in uganda, nothing is cheaper or more readily available than your own two feet. this is how people got around for centuries; the adoption of wheels as a daily means of transportation for the masses has been a surprisingly recent development. even today you will find people walking prodigious distances to and from the nearest town, health center, a burial, or a workshop, simply because it is a free and reliable means of transport. and as with most things here, time is not often a big concern. maybe someday, as western influences and transport options permeate ugandan culture, the notion of "african time" may lose some of its authority. but this much is clear: for the slowly growing number of people with a little disposable income and/or a busy schedule, the quicker, two-wheeled alternatives are gradually becoming "the new feet."

19-0! perfect season!

2009-08-13T22:22:00.001+03:00

it makes sense. every year, two teams face off for the chance to be called super bowl champs. and every year, one of them emerges victorious from the fray, immediately and miraculously wearing t-shirts (so soon??) announcing their superiority to the world. logistically baffling, you say? indeed! but each year, as most people know, t-shirts are printed for both the winning and losing teams before the game is even played. then, whenever the winning team is known, its players can immediately be given their championship shirts. no waiting, no hassle, no messy clean-up. that is, unless you consider cleaning up after all those loser t-shirts. they cannot possibly be permitted to see the light of day and confuse the issue of who's really the best of the best. no, those loser shirts must be packed, sealed, and shipped to the deepest, most remote location in the world where they'll never be seen by an NFL fan. a place like kitgum, uganda, for instance.

while eating lunch one day on a recent trip to northern uganda, my friend, lisandro, noticed a super bowl champions t-shirt. as peace corps volunteers here, we're tuned to a slightly different frequency; things like this excite us and make us look more closely. lisandro called the young man over to get a better look at his shirt and found that, yes, it really was a loser shirt! after two years of searching, we had finally laid eyes on one! and it's not just any loser shirt, but a patriots "perfect 19-0 season" from super bowl 42. in reality of course, they lost the game and their perfect season to the giants that year. subsequently, this beautiful, xxl t-shirt which was so eager to broadcast that piece of history from the chest of a victorious lineman, was sent to a village in northern uganda only to be bought off the back of its owner for $2 by a giddy volunteer who promises to wear it non-stop the next time he goes to boston. good eye, lisandro, good eye.

as if...

close of service conference

2009-07-02T00:39:00.006+03:00

i am reclined on the veranda of a luxury bungalow watching the sun set behind a canopy of trees along the eastern bank of the nile river in jinja, while monkeys meander casually across a closely-cropped lawn in the low evening light to collect leaves from the landscaped foliage surrounding the buildings and pathways of this resort compound. it is a moment both uncommonly peaceful and frustrating, unfolding and ending of its own accord whether i'm ready or not.

this is my close of service conference for peace corps. the fifteen or so incredible and inspiring volunteers in attendance are being generously (and deservedly) put up for a few days in a luxury resort which would otherwise be well beyond the reach of our modest budget. the food has been outstanding, the atmosphere relaxed, and the mood optimistic if not a little apprehensive. two years in a developing country sounds like a long time, but it is not forever; our service here is winding down and it is now time to look forward to whatever may come next.

of course, this is not at all how i expected to reach this point and there are still numerous challenges to face before i say goodbye to our beautiful host country. if all had gone according to plan, i would have been in this position six months ago, alongside the stellar volunteers who went through every day of training with me way back in march of 2007. but things do not always go according to plan. i got sick and was sent home to the usa early in my service as a volunteer. i questioned the wisdom of fighting to come back to a place where i had encountered such misfortune and worried that something bad might happen to me again should i return. i grew weary of the reinstatement process, which took months longer than expected; i was literally two days from giving up entirely and moving on when i was finally cleared to be a peace corps volunteer in uganda once again. exhausted, anxious, and uncertain, i was thankfully (in hindsight) willing enough to take advantage of the second chance i had been given.

the purpose of this close of service conference is to help peace corps volunteers reflect on their service to date and make a work plan for their few remaining months in country. yes, there are projects to wrap up and administrative loose ends to tie, but there is also an intimidating set of cultural concerns to manage as we begin the process of easing out of our communities, both materially and socially. this will not be anything like moving out of my apartment in baltimore and i am thankful for the guidance we've been given and the time i now have to make a responsible plan.

the perspective i have gained in the last several months has been invaluable. i witnessed dozens of my colleagues go through the process of saying goodbye to their friends and communities as they close their service and move on to exciting travel adventures and, in some cases, uncertain futures. i am acutely aware of the fact i am present here and now...but will not be forever. in fewer than six months, i'll likely be packing my bags to leave uganda indefinitely. this time will pass on its own, completely independent of my will; all i can do is stay true to the promises i have made to myself and my community and consciously appreciate how lucky, blessed, and extremely proud i feel to be in the position i'm in. none of this has been particularly easy, but the rewards have been satisfying and rich beyond expectation.

as the glow fades to gloaming, i stroll down the walkway on my way to one last delicious dinner before packing my bags and mentally preparing for all of the work waiting for me at site. tomorrow will be an adjustment, as i say goodbye to these several days in a luxurious fantasy land and re-enter the real world of work and struggle, all the while respecting the uncertainty of what comes after all this...which will undoubtedly be a much bigger and jarring transition.

a new friend!

2009-06-16T22:57:00.005+03:00

i almost stepped on this fella right outside my house.
about an inch in diameter and covered in spikes, this caterpillar is punk rock.

("real" posts are coming soon, i promise.)

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 6)

2009-06-16T22:10:00.005+03:00

currently seeking oil (hopelessly?) in saudi arabia's empty quarter
* today's poo fly is dedicated to the porters - thanks for the support :)

surrounded by monkeys!

2009-05-14T11:16:00.001+03:00

not long after pitching our tent at lake nkuruba...

...we looked up to find a tree full of colobus monkeys!

they resemble jumping tree skunks and have very long tails!

i thought they had a rather villainous appearance and was amused
at the furious pace with which they devoured leaves.

i think there were just as many vervet monkeys as well,
who occasionally wrestled with their colobus friends.

my favorite colobus monkey skill is jumping between trees.
as they grew tired of the leaves on one tree, they leaped one by one
to the branches of another. awesome!

bwindi impenetrable forest

2009-05-13T14:34:00.012+03:00

almost every day in bwindi impenetrable forest, a group of white people who have parted with silly amounts of money are led through dense jungle forest by seriously skilled guides and trackers to locate the incredibly rare and amazing mountain gorillas!

we were tracking habinyanja group, the largest of the habituated gorilla families at bwindi.

this was our first poop sighting - exciting and very well-formed!
we were on the right track...

after three hours of hiking, we finally came upon the habinyanja family lazing about in a small clearing. space was limited, but we were able to see some funny and just plain excellent things in our brief hour together.
intersting note: gorillas, much like humans, release gas.
i think our fellow tourist randy said it best:
"oh, they're a bunch of fartypants!"

here is an elder female intently eating tasty leaves.

kicked back with a foot in the air, this gorilla is stripping a branch of its outer layer so that he/she can enjoy the spongy, white marrow inside.

this one's for you, lisa! a baby gorilla, 8 months old!
(there's also hilarious video of a baby climbing/swinging...)

we were apparently very lucky to find a silverback out in the open. normally, they stay rather hidden to supervise and keep watch for the family. in our case, he sat up right in front of us for a good 5-10 minutes. sweet!

walking in and out of the forest on an exposed ridge, you can easily see where the protected forest begins and cultivated land ends. agricultural/logging encroachment has been a problem and the goverment has only recently put a stop to it. some programs are now in place to keep the national park and the public happily co-existing; hopefully they are adequate and sustainable.

hell's gate national park

2009-05-06T13:54:00.012+03:00

there is a national park near naivasha, kenya, called hell's gate. it is pretty unique in that visitors are allowed to rent bicycles and guide themselves around the entire park (which even contains a few predators!). the day after climbing mt. longenot, we decided to check it out. pictured above is hell's rather gorgeous entrance!

i actually meant to capture some zebras with this photo and missed entirely.

we saw ostriches and lamented eating their meatballs a few days earlier.

animals were everywhere in and around the road...

...so it was pretty easy to get up close and personal with things
i'd previously seen only in cartoons or on crackers!

i think my favorite were the giraffes...

...who were pretty scared of us...

...but were kind enough to pose for a few nice photos.

climbing mt. longenot

2009-05-05T18:58:00.008+03:00

near naivasha, kenya lies an old volcano called "longenot" which is covered in zebras.

inside longenot is a massive crater, around which you can walk to reach the summit.

we walked around all 360 degrees, which was windy, sandy, long, and beautiful.

behold the crater in approximately half its majesty, as seen from longenot's peak!

sorry, lisa :(

2009-05-04T13:15:00.006+03:00

there is a restaurant in nairobi called carnivore which became famous for cooking almost any animal (even the ones you see on safari!) and serving the meat to guests...crazy! you only live once, so we decided to check it out for lunch. nowadays carnivore has stopped serving the very "exotic" meats, but we did get to try ostrich meatballs and crocodile meat (along with excellent grilled beef, lamb, pork, chicken, and turkey). not surprisingly, i had no room for dinner that night. it was, by far, the most expensive single meal i have paid for in africa - about $30.

every table has a revolving sauce and salad bar, on top of which is a white flag.
the meaning of the flag is quite simple - as long as it is still up...

...carvers will keep on bringing the meat!

until your plate becomes too crowded...

... and you have no choice but to surrender!
(note: i was fairly pleased with my meat-management skills throughout the meal -
my plate was almost clean at the end!)

lamu!

2009-05-01T18:42:00.001+03:00

these are the rooftops of lamu town on the kenyan coast. there are no cars here, only donkeys.

here is our isolated patch of sand, where we hid from the blazing sun before enjoying a fresh fish barbecue on the beach!

kenyan coconuts!

2009-04-26T18:29:00.001+03:00

this was my first encounter with real coconuts. friendly.

i was given no instructions and challenged to open a coconut. to everyone's surprise, i succeeded.

apparently, the furry insides are used as toilet paper. surprisingly soft!

baby steps

2009-04-14T16:27:00.002+03:00

the text of the billboard reads: "family planning is the way forward: have a small family that fits in a [14 passenger] taxi." really? believe it or not, a "less than fourteen people" guideline may be a step in the right direction as far as family planning in uganda is concerned. this country, which i love, has one of the highest birth rates in the world. i have met people who tell me they have eight, twelve, twenty, sometimes even thirty children. culturally speaking, i can understand these numbers. polygamy is common and there is a belief that having many children signifies power, wealth, and success. in fact, family planning campaigns are occasionally received with hostility among locals who think it's an outside attempt to reduce their power and influence, or even a racially motivated tactic to slowly eliminate africans. keeping in mind cultural differences, these feelings are easy to understand. it is a very delicate matter to offer advice to people on the number of children they should have, and when this advice comes from outside one's community, or even continent, skepticism should be expected.

looking around, however, one can easily see the strain this country is already under: jobs are scarce; trees and forests are disappearing; many unfortunate children go uneducated because their parents cannot afford to send them to school or cannot afford supplies for them; arable land is largely saturated with crops. if population growth estimates hold true, the number of people living in uganda could quadruple in the next two generations. that number is not just surprising, it's scary. i hear about peoples' struggles here every day, struggles that exist because of the current scarcity of jobs and resources. i don't even want to imagine how difficult life could be here in forty years if four times the number of people are competing for essentially the same resources. sadly, this rich and beautiful piece of land in east africa cannot get any bigger to accommodate a rapidly growing population. for the good of all ugandans, i hope the idea of responsible family planning gains widespread acceptance...and soon.

face down, ass up...

2009-04-07T10:45:00.005+03:00

...that's the way you have to mop!

sometimes it's best not to challenge methods of doing something that have been developed and tested over many years. mopping a floor in uganda is a perfect example. as you settle into your new place here and go out to purchase household items, you may be tempted to bring home what seems like a perfectly reasonable thing: a mop. you've perhaps seen many ugandans bent over at the waist mopping their floors and decided that you'd rather stand up, relax, and mop the way we all do back in the good old usa. but take heed! you'll wish you could have those 5000 shillings back. ass-up mopping is simply the only way to get your polished concrete floor fresh and clean! just follow these easy instructions:

pour some water in your plastic basin
mix in some lemon-fresh vim (complete with "clorex bleach")
grab an old t-shirt, dunk it in your vim-water, and wring it out
bend at the waist, making sure your ass remains high
slap your wet t-shirt on the floor and begin mopping up the filth (this process involves side-to-side sweeping motions with your hands as you shimmy backwards, one cheek at a time)
when your shirt has become intolerably soiled, rinse, wring and resume the position!

i can assure you, there's nothing quite like the feeling of bare feet on a cool, freshly ass-up mopped floor. happy cleaning!

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 5)

2009-02-11T16:17:00.004+03:00

freezing in regina, saskatchewan, pondering his next move...
...moose jaw?
...swift current?

six strings to work with

2009-02-07T15:08:00.010+03:00

wazee aryo (two elders) in the village...

we met for the first time well over a year ago in my old trading center. i was hanging out with the bicycle mechanic and a "saloon" (barber shop) manager when an old man came strolling down the main dirt road strumming the most weathered, beaten-up guitar i've ever seen. he was wearing a new york giants baseball cap and a humble, self-satisfied grin as he sang a song in dhopadhola - something about riding a bicycle, if i understood correctly. the whole scene shocked and thrilled me; i had spent months in the area without ever seeing a guitar aside from my own, let alone someone who could play. it was therefore easy to forgive his immediate request that i bring him new strings from america. in this case, i was not so annoyed; i saw a lot of potential for friendship and exchange and so the following day i left him a set of very nice, long-lasting guitar strings in the trading center.

mzee's original guitar
(i could barely play the thing but he somehow made it sound good!)

his style is a happy, finger-picked kind of blues, performing songs in many languages from the immediate local vicinity to the wider region and even a few vaguely familiar european and island tunes. he plays almost exclusively in the key of C and gets a surprising amount of mileage from its three major chords. his brother also plays, but has clearly absorbed a very different set of influences. having lived in kenya and the seychelles and traveled extensively while employed by a tobacco company, he absorbed a variety of styles and his playing is now seasoned by traces of spanish and reggae. the brothers live about an hour from my house by bicycle and i visit them fairly often, usually once a month, to jam and learn new local songs. my favorite so far is definitely nyir ma nagongera:

in dhopadhola:

nyir ma nagongera kibeyo de be
odikin g'othieno jochomo yo town
nyor'aromo g'alowo ka chamo samosa
alowo, alowo, ango mumienin?

in english:

girls from nagongera(*) are not very good
morning and evening, they run off to town(+)
yesterday i found alowo(#) eating samosa
alowo, alowo, what's wrong with your head?

(*) nagongera is a town believed to be the center of the original jopadhola settlement
(+) town refers to tororo town, i.e. "the big city"
(#) alowo is a common girl's name

after trading guitars

an adhola school of rock...

when joining the peace corps, a person must understand that there will inevitably be many things that are beyond one's control. one of those very important things is the volunteer's site, their home for these two years of service. i've unfortunately seen some very bright and capable volunteers struggling at sites that clearly don't fit their skills, interests, or tolerance for corruption. thankfully, mine is not such a site. i certainly did not expect to be living and working at this teachers college, but my expectations are not necessarily based on things i can control. i was unable to do anything about the fact that my site was shifted away from a place i really loved to one i was initially unhappy with after my improbable return to service here in uganda. but thankfully i was able to recognize that, while starting over again would be frustrating, there would likely be many more work opportunities here than i had found at my old site.

i suppose sooner or later i would have thought of beginning a guitar education project here, at a school which already has a music department. countless times, i was begged by the possibility as students and community members repeatedly asked me to teach them. my answer to their requests was apologetic and sadly repetitive: "i'd love to, but without a guitar to practice on, you'll not be able to learn properly." after numerous such refusals, it dawned on me that i might be able to help them after all if i could only do something about the lack of instruments here. so i wrote a project proposal to begin a small guitar school which was generously funded by my former jazz guitar instructor. through patience, networking, and some hard bargaining, i was able to turn the project budget (for the purchase of only two guitars) into nine guitars - a blend of old and new from a range of kampala music stores, second-hand markets, and departing volunteers.

six of our nine guitars are shown here, including:
- one with the words "j. page led zeppelin" on it and
- one with a built-in speaker and tremolo control (!)

i am currently trying to organize this newfound fleet of instruments and restore some of the more badly treated of the lot. i imagine that a significant portion of them will be kept here at the school for use by the students and college staff, while a few others may go to a youth center or other appropriate community location which can provide security for the guitars and allow students to come for regular practice. in the meantime, i am teaching at the college and inviting aspiring musicians to join me here for training. i have teamed up with the head of the music department at the college, who is working closely with me to learn the basics of guitar playing and maintenance. he commented excitedly as his nyap (weak) beginner fingers gradually became tek (strong) with regular practice. he plays often for his children at home, and one of his sons is quickly learning how to play.

the head of our music department singing
"he's got the whole world in his hands"

individual lessons

word is beginning to spread about guitar lessons here and my students are increasing in number. in every case, they are not only excited by the opportunity, but motivated to make the most of it. they are practicing harder than i would have ever expected and come back to me not only having mastered the assignment i gave them, but bringing with them additional discoveries they've made along the way. for example, more than one student has taken a few chords i've taught and used them to play songs they know from church or school. essentially, they return teaching me songs!

one student of mine is a painter who recently decided to give the guitar a try. like my other students, he is a very determined person and is not discouraged by a somewhat unique struggle to fit several of his very large fingers onto a relatively tiny fretboard to form the chords i'm teaching him. he just fights through it, succeeds, and moves on to the next challenge. when i see investment and dedication like this in my students, it's not hard to imagine that they are chasing something beyond simply making their A chord sound right. not long before christmas, this student gave me a painting of his which ventures to depict the way he feels while playing the guitar (which i think any musician can relate to) - he feels like a different person, like he's temporarily escaped reality to become someone else.

timothy's painting of the masked guitarist

dry season is hot!

2009-02-04T14:57:00.004+03:00

124 degrees!

i'm not complaining. i was just surprised last weekend when i decided to put my alarm clock thermometer out in the sun to see how hot it actually was. a few moments before this photo was taken, it read 127.5 degrees! this is winter on the equator, and that's ok with me :)

it's been quiet in tororo...

2009-02-02T12:22:00.001+03:00

...but not for too much longer.

the holiday malaise is lifting as students return to school and work shifts back into high gear. there has been a lot going on in terms of planning and organizing for the coming school term and i'm excited for the opportunities it will bring. [uganda has 3 school terms beginning in february, may, and september.]

i apologize for the lack of content recently; i've been pulled in many directions and my time online has been brief and sporadic. however, i promise some more news from the work front as my projects develop. in the meantime, enjoy photos from my recent trip to rwanda!

christmas 2008 - rwanda

2009-02-02T11:31:00.008+03:00

on the gorgeous, hilly road to rwanda

changing ugandan shillings into rwandan francs

nyungwe: a dense, enormous, mountain rain forest

hacking through nyungwe in search of chimps!

view of lake kivu on one spectacular hillside drive

old man slowly moving up from the kisoro-kabale road

the virunga volcanoes on the border of uganda, rwanda, congo

transportation II: it's the dry season

2009-01-17T17:08:00.005+03:00

"if you live in uganda, you must agree to swallow dust."
- boniface

it's been at least a month since the last significant rainfall and i am seated next to boniface, who is deftly maneuvering his late model mercedes, perhaps a bit too confidently, at 160 km/hr through a dizzying gauntlet of potholes, motorcycles, roadside tilapia vendors, petrol tankers, and oncoming traffic. i am seriously beginning to question this particular alternative to public transport when a stall of irish potatoes piques his interest and he quickly pulls over.

for a moment, i can relax.

this is not the first time we've stopped to purchase food; the road from mbarara to kampala is lined with periodic clusters of stalls featuring a particular type of item. one region offers stunningly fresh fruits and vegetables, another potatoes, another fish, yet another beef. it is a veritable "some assembly required" drive-through feast. there was even one stretch of road several kilometers long lined with enormous bathing loofahs jabbed onto the ends of bare tree limbs.

roadside meat vendors await drive-thru customers

boniface had earlier stopped to buy meat, but decided against it after several minutes spent anxiously eying the dozen or so animal carcasses hanging from a wooden beam because he felt like they were likely covered in too much dirt. i guess that's just the additional price you pay for anything on the roadside in this country. where there's traffic without rain in uganda, anything within 50 meters of the road gets coated in a layer of orange dust. green trees turn a ruddy brown, cattle resting lazily on a roadside garbage heap squint and flap their ears against the airborne onslaught, while innocent people choke on the polluted blend of powdered earth and nauseating emissions from poorly maintained diesel engines. this is quite simply not a nice time to move around the country, especially with the windows down, but that's what boniface and i do all the way from mbarara to kampala. i take a few shallow breaths and enjoy the relative comfort of my self-imposed hitching holiday from public transport...

season's greetings from father christmas

2008-12-14T16:24:00.003+03:00

as the end of the school term approached at my teacher's college, plans were made for the annual christmas show, which includes drama sketches, readings, carols, and for the first time ever, an appearance by father christmas himself (played by yours truly). i was honored and amused when the show's organizers approached me about the gig and so i eagerly accepted the offer. my costume was a cultural hodgepodge of ugandan formalwear, a pillow to increase my waistline, and an american-style hat and beard. thanks to a pair of muzungu elves and a sack full of candy, it was a great success.

merry christmas to all!

where in the world is poo fly (vol 4)

2008-12-05T14:28:00.003+03:00

making benefit glorious nation of kazakhstan

thanksgiving in tororo

2008-12-05T13:17:00.006+03:00

lots of food, lots of friends, and one very long table!

on saturday, november 29th, a healthy contingent of peace corps volunteers descended upon tororo town to celebrate thanksgiving. not only was there an impressive amount of delicious food, but everyone got to eat at the same time... off of plates... with their own utensils! typically, a small gathering of only a few people will exhaust a volunteer's flatware supply. but for thanksgiving, we planned ahead!

for a mere 40,000 ugandan shillings ($20-$25),
i turned one of my supervisor's turkeys into thanksgiving dinner!

for the first time in my life, i was directly involved in deep-frying a turkey. under the expert, patient tutelage of a fellow volunteer (from the southern u.s.), i learned the ropes. after injecting the meat with an intense mixture of special spices using a veterinary syringe, i spent most of the afternoon dunking, checking, and replacing chunks of our holiday bird in 10 liters of bubbling vegetable oil. all in all, it was a pretty delicious experience that i hope to repeat someday...

clockwise from top: turkey/chicken, stuffing, green beans,
mac-n-cheese, sweet corn.
not pictured: cornbread, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie,
spice cake, apple pie, and more!

transportation I: injury time

2008-11-19T15:41:00.003+03:00

most taxis have a slogan of some kind written on the back.
this is the most appropriate one i've seen thus far :)

since childhood, my brain has been assembling a perception of what i should expect while traveling; this includes such things as the type of cars i see on the road and their frequency, the number of people inside those cars, the speed at which they're moving, the road on which they're driving, the presence of seat belts (or lack thereof), the use of headlights and horns, rules of the road and common courtesy, maneuvers that are considered safe, and the anticipated time required to reach my destination. altogether, this prior evidence is responsible for my current expectations. if everything i experience during a particular journey falls within the scope of these expectations, i am likely to feel relaxed, safe, and maybe even a little bored. but when my senses present something inconsistent with my perception of "normal," i get a wake-up call and my awareness instantly kicks in, whether as a result of being squeezed into the same row as five other adults or perhaps after witnessing a car try to overtake other vehicles around a blind curve. to a foreigner like myself, coming from a country where structure dominates and safety rules are taken seriously, transportation networks in uganda set off a wide variety of alarm bells. after a lifetime of conditioning in the developed world, it's difficult not to feel a little uneasy at times while moving around in a flimsy van stuffed beyond capacity with people, moving at high speeds, dodging countless potholes, guided by the priorities of a driver for whom passing a slow-moving vehicle is apparently more appealing than guarding the safety of himself and his passengers.

why is public transportation so dangerous in this country? for one, ugandans generally do not have a lot of money and therefore tend to take advantage of any income-generating opportunity that presents itself. operators of public transportation are no exception. a taxi in uganda, which is the most common means of transport, typically operates on a specific route making round-trips (e.g. between tororo and kampala). the driver and conductor of a taxi work together to make as much money as they can during a given day, which is obviously dependent on how many trips they can make and how many passengers they can carry. it's not surprising, then, that they pack their vehicles as full as possible and drive them as fast as possible.

the speed of a vehicle in this country is not limited by (enforcement of) the law or even its driver's sensibilities, but rather by the condition of the road on which it is moving. as much as people complain about poorly maintained roads in this country, those potholes provide a natural limit to the speed at which vehicles can move. (un)fortunately, the road between my site and kampala has been greatly improved and, for the time being, resembles a decently maintained two-lane road in any developed country. the problem is that this two-lane road is shared not only by local traffic, but by literally ALL of the traffic that needs to move between the kenyan port city of mombasa and kampala, uganda. this includes tankers, tractor-trailers, taxis, buses, sugar-cane trucks, motorcycles, bicycles, private vehicles and even the president's motorcade. as you can easily imagine, these vehicles naturally move at a wide variety of speeds and frequently need to overtake each other (as often on hills and around corners as on long straight-aways). on occasion a taxi driver may encounter a police checkpoint and slow down, perhaps even buckling his seat belt. but as soon as the checkpoint is passed, his foot again gets heavy on the accelerator and he tosses the seat belt aside.

i find it bewildering that the very same drivers who show absolutely no patience while driving on the road will wait as long as it takes to (over)fill their taxi before leaving or will make countless inexplicable stops along the way. you can imagine how frustrating it is at times to be a passenger in such a system; and when all the taxis look essentially the same, choosing one is a gamble. in most cases, i (along with most people in uganda) choose to take the first vehicle i find moving in my direction. the only time i refuse a ride is if the vehicle is already full and there's no way i can physically fit my 6'5" frame inside. otherwise, i feel compelled to go; there is no way of knowing when another opportunity may come along and my culturally instilled time consciousness says "if you can go now, why wait?" it would be nice to screen taxis beforehand, to know how mechanically sound the vehicle is and how safety (un)conscious the driver may be, but there's unfortunately no way. if you've gotta go, you've gotta go!

goatstock 2008

2008-11-13T16:14:00.000+03:00

each october, uganda pcvs gather for their annual halloween party, aka "goatstock..."

which was held this year on the serene shores of lake nabugabo...

where there are monkeys to feed...

wiffleball games to be played...

silly costumes to be worn...

and lots of jumping around...

all of which can easily wear someone out.

proud at last

2008-11-06T20:34:00.004+03:00

if uganda was eligible to vote in our recent election, i can assure you it would have been a deep, dark blue on cnn's electoral map tuesday night. the idea that an african man could be freely elected to what is arguably the highest office in the world simply boggles their collective mind. every ugandan i have seen since the results were announced on wednesday morning greets me, not by asking "how are you" but instead "how is obama?" they love hearing americans talk about how happy they are just as much as they love obama himself.

there are many, many reasons that americans should be proud of who they are and where they come from. but i don't think i need to explain how difficult it has been to feel that way in the last 7 years. when our small group of nine volunteers gathered on tuesday night to grill up a bunch of cheeseburgers, bake some delicious apple crisp, and wait patiently on fake leather couches at a nearby hotel for the votes to be counted, there was a growing sense that it was all about to change. swing state after swing state was called for obama and we began doing the math, guarding our optimism carefully. the announcement finally came at around 7am local time, sparking several hours of cheers, high-fives, hugs, tears, and flat out astonishment. as much as we all had hoped this would happen, i don't think anyone was fully prepared for the happiness that comes with knowing we no longer have to use disclaimers or make excuses or feel embarrased to say we're american. we can simply feel proud.

i'm not naive enough to believe that this one election, this one man, will fix all the problems currently facing our nation and the world. but i do believe that this election of this man has changed the course of history. this was an enormous accomplishment and i could not be happier that i was a small part of it.

transportation: intro

2008-10-31T17:05:00.002+03:00

i think transportation is one of the most interesting and important aspects of life here in uganda. it is enabling, frustrating, chaotically structured, relatively affordable, and very dangerous. i will dedicate a series of blog posts (coming soon) to the discussion of this topic. stay tuned!

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 3)

2008-10-31T17:01:00.000+03:00

cooling off in nyeboe land, north greenland

part of the process!

2008-10-24T14:34:00.004+03:00

this moment was a lot more exciting than i imagined it would be. for a while, i doubted my absentee ballot would even arrive in time for me to send it back. right before a week-long trip to kampala for my mid-service conference, i decided to check our local post office one last time. amazingly, my ballot had arrived that very morning! i carried it away carefully, exitedly, guarding it from the alarmingly long sunshower that was soaking the cement capital of uganda. there was a rainbow over tororo rock.

the ugandans i've spoken to are amazed that i am able to fill out my federal election ballot and send it from so far away...and presumably have it counted. the common assumption is that i would need to fly back home to cast my vote, a notion which sounds ridiculous, but ugandans tend to underestimate the hassles of round-the-world travel while grossly overestimating the amount of money i have access to.

the act of filling out the ballot itself was incredibly satisfying. i took out my most emphatic black pen and marked every last fiber inside of "my candidate's" box. i triple-checked it to make sure i hadn't overlooked anything. i sealed the envelope. when i reached kampala the next morning, i marched straight to the post office, dropped it into the international slot, and voted.

clarification, uganda-style

2008-09-19T11:15:00.006+03:00

i'm relieved as i inspect my bag of millet flour...

...and slightly confused as i check into my hotel

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 2)

2008-09-13T11:15:00.001+03:00

today: the ancient walled city of katsina, home to the housa tribe of northern nigeria

lake mburo national park

2008-09-02T13:14:00.007+03:00

zebras!

hippos underwater!

hippos on land!

impala!

water buffalo!

symbols of freedom!

warthogs!

hoopin' it up in the bush

2008-08-30T14:01:00.000+03:00

not too long after returning to uganda, a small group of volunteers met at joe's site to play basketball. this is a project joe has been working on for a long time, and with some help from the u.s. and the local community, he was able to construct a totally viable basketball court in the middle of nowhere. the goal, net, and ball were carried to uganda from the states, while the backboard and support system were assembled locally. i can't really describe how fun it was to pick up and play that afternoon in such an improbable setting. hope you enjoy the photos...

demonstrating how to shoot with a child on your back

where's the open man?

for three!

where in the world is poo fly? (vol 1)

2008-08-23T20:56:00.004+03:00

Today: Johannesburg's Apartheid Museum, South Africa

oh!-vacado

2008-08-18T12:33:00.002+03:00

i was recently given an ovacado as big as my face. and today it is ripe!

kulukulu!

2008-07-31T14:04:00.002+03:00

the noise was strange; unlike any of the noises i have become accustomed to hearing. it sounded like fowl, but was neither clucking nor gobbling. i looked out the window and saw what can only be described as a gang of turkeys (kulukulu) mid-melee. they had traded their gobbles for more urgent, higher-pitched shrieking and were actually attacking each other. every turkey for itself.

of course, i went in for a closer look, with the intention of breaking up the fight to restore momentary peace and quiet to my sick bay veranda. but these brazen turkeys were oblivious to my presence. i walked into their midst and even lightly kicked a few but got no response. they just continued head-butting each other and howling indiscriminately. the brawl soon spilled onto my veranda, after which several of the turkeys angrily shat in front of my door.

a peek inside the studio

2008-07-30T18:18:00.010+03:00

my new house at the teacher's college can best be described as a studio apartment with a detached bathroom. much to my shock and pleasure, the place features nearly constant electricity and running water - a tap in the kitchen and a (cold) SHOWER for bathing. the only downside is that running water in uganda is no guarantee. there are water crises (shortages) nearly every week, so it is smart to be prepared with jerrycans full of backup h2o. also, running water by its very nature must travel great distances through many pipes, which are not necessarily clean. after a week of boiling and drinking my tap water, i concluded that i would be better off to find a borehole to supply fresh, clean water for drinking and cooking. so, once or twice a week, i set out with my jerrycans to fetch water. it's definitely worth the effort.

my "apartment" itself is tiny but really quite nice. as far as i know, it's not in line with peace corps policy for volunteer housing (i.e. we're supposed to have at least two rooms) but i am oddly comfortable in my small space here. the college doesn't really have anything else to offer, so i don't see a point in complaining. aside from the ever-present noise (radios, crying babies, loitering students, religious events at ALL HOURS, whistle-blowing cross country practices at 4am, footsteps right outside my windows,...), i feel quite happy with my home here. equipped with my guitar and/or my portable speakers, i'm not shy about returning the racket. nature will achieve a balance :)

here is the building where i live. the two right-most windows are mine.

a closer inspection reveals that...yes, i really do live in the sick bay. and yes, i think it is more than amusing that i got reinstated after medical separation only to get placed in a freaking sick bay upon my return.
wtf, peace corps, wtf.

let's have a look inside...

here is my bed, ethereally draped in mosquito netting. note that there is only about six inches of clearance at the foot of the bed - installation was a close call!

this window looks out onto tororo rock and, occasionally, a gang of turkeys. the giant cabinet was an amazing addition and greatly facilitates much-needed vertical storage.

on the left is my all-purpose table and on the right is a handy stackable plastic shelf in which i keep almost all of my clothes.

this is a peek inside my kitchen from the aforementioned all-purpose table. notice the sink and incredible full-length (and tall-person-friendly) counter, complete with many avocados (in uganda, they are called ovacados). i have been eating them daily in an effort to get fat. so far, it's not working.

here is a better view of my kitchen setup, which is simply awesome. i am able to easily cook pretty much anything i want (which i do 2-3 times a day). to fill in the cracks between meals, i snack on many bananas slathered in odi paste (which is an alarmingly tasty ugandan blend of sesame seeds and peanuts).

Back in Uganda!

2008-06-26T14:04:00.002+03:00

a view mt. wanali from the road between my new and old site

it's been a pretty busy month and i feel like the smoke is just now beginning to clear a bit. somewhere around the middle of june, peace corps called me to say that i was finally all set to return to uganda and my old house in the village. after receiving this very exciting news, i immediately arranged my flight, giving myself about a week to prepare and pack.

i arrived in kampala on june 22nd with every expectation of being re-settled in my old house by the end of the week. i guess i'd been away long enough to forget that one really should not assume or make serious expectations about anything happening in peace corps. i suppose i felt a little untrusting of the promise that i'd be returning to my old home and knew i wouldn't really believe it until i was back. in one brief phone conversation on the day before i was supposed to move in, i learned that my housing situation at the school would be impossible to work out. i can't really blame anyone, but it is really disappointing and i wish i hadn't been promised my old house without having any assurances. an alternate plan was quickly made and i am in the process of making a fresh start. it is unexpected and challenging, but i suppose that is why i am here. i promise to post more about my new home once i have time to process it more completely.

anyway, i thought i would share some of my thoughts from "moving day":

"um, where did the taxi go?"

[upon arrival in tororo, i hired a car to help me move my many things to my new home. before leaving town, i needed to stop by a friend's place to collect some belongings i had left here in october. the car brought us there and parked outside the gate. as we brought the last of my stuff out of the house and through the gate, i noticed the car (containing everything i own in this country) was gone. apparently, another vehicle had come down the road and the driver needed to move. at any rate, it was kinda scary.]

"ok, just eat everything except the head."

[that's all you get, haha!]

"man, i wish i was living here"

[this was all that went through my head as i picked up my old bed from the house where i used to live. peace corps told me prior to my return that i would be able to move back into the very same house i had before, which ended up being just a tiny bit false. i am now about an hour away and missing my old village - one of the reasons i came back to uganda. but it is a fresh start and quite honestly may offer more opportunities in the way of meaningful work. so. moving onward...]

"did we just hit a cow...AGAIN?"

[you may recall a previous post in which i was in a college vehicle, moving to site after training, when we t-boned a cow. well, this time, i was in a college vehicle, moving to site after reinstatement, and BAM, we plowed right into another cow. wtf??? if there are any cows reading this, STAY OUT OF THE ROAD! THEY WON'T STOP FOR YOU!]

"so when exactly is the shouting and conversation outside my window going to stop?"

[it's 11pm and i am sitting inside my new home (essentially a studio apartment). it is small, clean, and has a plenty of potential. however, there is an unreasonable amount of commotion coming from a group of students outside. in fact, because of the acoustics of the veranda, it sounds as if they are all inside. i am hoping it will not be a regular occurrence. this muzungu is gonna need some sleep...]

big ideas (don't get any)

2008-06-01T19:53:00.000+03:00

this past weekend has been alarmingly productive on many digital fronts (ones and zeroes everywhere!). i completed a remix of radiohead's "nude" this afternoon and am very pleased with the result. have a listen on myspace:

http://www.myspace.com/johnnyawesomeoats

(you'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking...)

funniest batch of frozen spinach ever

2008-06-01T19:03:00.001+03:00

in the pot

listen to my album!

2008-05-16T21:12:00.007+03:00

as some of you already know, i was recently blessed with enough free time to dust off my audio gear and do some good, old-fashioned bedroom recording (sorry, no video). i am thrilled to finally cross this project off my to-do list and my newly finished, eleven song acoustic album is now available for download at the following convenient location:

JAMENDO:
http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/25013

separation makes it easy is a creative commons release. it is free to you as a special unlimited time courtesy and you are encouraged to take it, listen to it, enjoy it, hate it, cook with it, run from it, love it, forget about it, and/or pass it around. so go for it. you've got a friend in johnny awesome.

MYSPACE:
http://www.myspace.com/johnnyawesomeoats

FACEBOOK:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Johnny-Awesome/21938209952

jimmy vanderslice

2008-04-10T23:59:00.006+03:00

turning a corner on my way back from the bathroom at chronic town hookah lounge in state college, pa, i overheard a trio of young females discussing the evening's entertainment. "so i think the main guy is on next. his name is james vanderslice - he's pretty famous." oh my. i had to laugh to myself at the way she not only incorrectly referred to the "famous" john vanderslice as james, but that she also went out of her way to emphasize the james. brilliant! a dawson's creek fan, perhaps?

having missed jv's lancaster show last night, i decided to make the two hour drive northwest to state college and catch him up there with my brother. simply put, that turned out to be a very wise and fortunate move. had i attended the lancaster show, i can guarantee i would not have been able to see such a high caliber performance in such an intimate setting, while leaning on a pillow on the floor right in front of the stage. it was seriously as if john vanderslice were playing in my living room.

the live manifestation of his songs was fascinating. stripped down and re-arranged to suit the palette of sounds available on stage, each one took on a whole new color and feel - much more so than most bands i've seen perform. nearing the end of an extremely tight and energetic set, vanderslice shared his thoughts about the pretension of encores. so, instead of pretending to say goodnight, he and his band grabbed one acoustic instrument apiece and moved to the floor, where they continued their set with four completely unplugged songs as we all circled around.

i've witnessed countless performances in my life, but i would have to say this, my first john vanderslice show, was one of the coolest. and while i was watching him play and sing, i felt a stab of recognition threatening the tip of my brain. about halfway through the show, i was able to squeeze it out. i might be crazy, but john vanderslice reminds me of jim adkins from jimmy eat world! not at all in the music he writes or the way he looks, but in the way he carries himself on stage. the two have very similar mannerisms, hair-management maneuvers, head-tilts, and guitar stances. i'm not sure what this means, exactly, but i now feel compelled to be a tad more forgiving of any james slip-ups.

It's Jimmy (L) Vanderslice (R)!

aruba? dushi yiu!

2008-03-13T01:20:00.009+03:00

how we roll...

2008-02-09T01:04:00.001+03:00

whenever i tell people i'm from lancaster, i'm almost always asked if that means i'm amish. of course, i am not. but i guess the question makes a certain amount of sense, given that i come from an area boasting the second-highest amish population in the country (ohio is first). what bothers me about the question is in the wording. the correct way to ask is this:

"so...have you ever ridden in an amish buggy?"

because now my answer is yes!

last week, i paid a few dollars for a wet, chilly, bumpy ride along the shoulder of several roads buried deep in lancaster county (bird in hand, to be exact). and quite honestly, it was fantastic. our driver was very friendly and talkative, and i could smell the horse (authentic). we got passed not only by horseless carriages, but also by a speed-buggy which may have broken 10 mph. it felt like we were standing still!

snow plug!

2008-01-18T06:05:00.001+03:00

behold! the mighty snow plug!
behold! the real thing!

in peace corps, we learn all about coping mechanisms. you've gotta know how to creatively handle difficult situations and any accompanying stress. for example, if you are a volunteer who has been abruptly sent home to a cold, unforgiving winter in the northeastern united states, you might choose to make a snow-replica of your favorite geological feature from uganda.

death valley, ca

2008-01-03T23:35:00.000+03:00

vast.

diverse.

weird.

wild.

spectacular.

san diego, ca

2007-12-29T23:18:00.000+03:00

on a beautiful (and a bit chilly) harbor cruise with extended family

the great beyond

2007-10-10T16:08:00.000+03:00

of course you know by now that i've got some serious guns. but did you know i could bend a banana as easily as the circus strongman can bend an iron rod??? maybe you didn't know that, which is why this post is so necessary. there were no camera tricks involved in capturing the above photo. i owned that ripe little guy, and he was alarmingly easy to peel...

goatstock!

2007-10-09T15:55:00.000+03:00

yes children, it's that time of year again - time for uganda peace corps volunteers to converge in one beautiful place for a weekend of hiking, dancing, drinking, wiffling, arranging/performing ridiculous musical medleys, slaughtering goats, eating goats, dressing in bizarre costumes, and generally acting afool.*

* see two fools above

i iron everything

2007-10-06T15:57:00.000+03:00

the orange stripes are for when i'm feeling funky!

one perfectly understandable cog in the conservative machine of ugandan culture is an unwritten rule that one should not hang his/her unmentionables outside where others may see or perhaps mention them. this is, of course, fine, and i make my best attempt to comply by hanging my wet (from washing, come on!) underthings on the three dental floss clotheslines in my sitting room. i find it mildly amusing, however, that it is perfectly acceptable in our american culture to post a photo of those same underthings on the internets where anyone in the entire world (including my neighbor who i am trying to protect by hanging them inside) may view them. so be it. this is just part of the delicate cultural balance i have struck since my arrival here - adapt as much as possible while still maintaining my own identity. my underwear is safely out of sight in my house but freely available online. excellent. everyone wins.

the rest of my clothing i am free to hang indiscriminately on the line outside my house, where it will dry at an amazing rate of speed in the direct equatorial sunlight - a convenience that sadly does not come without a price.

enter the mango fly. said fly enjoys good conversation, long, lazy flights in the bush, ripe mangoes, and laying eggs in and/or on warm, wet fabrics...exactly like those on a clothesline! if undetected and undefeated, the spawn of the mango fly may hatch from its egg in your shirt and burrow into your skin, leaving behind a hideous boil and a small hole through which it will breathe and perhaps wink at you. if this occasional eye contact with mango larvae makes you uncomfortable, you are free to smear a bit of vaseline over the airhole of the boil, effectively suffocating your little friend, who will soon expire and be forced out through the very passage meant to keep him alive.

thankfully, i have yet to play host to one of my mango brethren. we had been told in peace corps medical training classes that we should, for the purpose of neutralizing mango larvae with heat, iron all of our clothes. at first i thought it was a cruel ploy to frighten potentially slovenly pcvs into pressing our clothes and looking smart, but after checking my facts, i realized that these mango flies are indeed real! so now, i have made a complete 180 degree turn away from my wrinkled american lifestyle, where i may have ironed five items of clothing in my entire life. in uganda, i iron everything - underwear, socks, pants, t-shirts, dress shirts, towels, bedsheets, and more! it's completely mad! but so is allowing a tropical insect to hatch in my skin. this is one time i am more than happy to be called conservative.

i don't know how to put this, but i'm kind of a big deal...

2007-10-02T12:51:00.002+03:00

i must say i was not anticipating this. after two weeks of visiting family and friends, traveling across the usa to familiar cities, houses, and offices in relative anonymity, i was ill-prepared for my return to uganda and the center of attention among people who are at best a little closer to me than strangers. being frequently engaged by friends and family is one thing, but having random ugandans call me by name and ask me daily, ceaselessly, about my nonexistent wife (“what? no wife? let me give you one!”), my travel plans, my work schedule, and my diet is quite another. to punctuate my frustration, a group of villagers can be counted upon to huddle nearby as i pass, rattling off a string of indecipherable dhopadhola followed by uncontrollable laughter, which i can only assume is directed, in some way (likely harmless and playful), at me.

when i meet children on the street, it is typically after they have been chanting my name ("mr. ofwono!") or more likely my color ("muzungu!") repeatedly and from a safe distance. the object of this game is clearly to capture my attention, although most of the time they have no idea what to do once they have it. some run away, some cry and flail their youthful limbs, some stand motionless and wide-eyed in shocked silence as i approach. having gotten this far, i will attempt to shake hands and greet them. often their replies are brief and barely audible; their eyes not on mine but rather the hand they are shaking, or even more specifically the skin on that hand, as they inspect it, rubbing it carefully to see if they can glean any information about why it looks so different from theirs.

on days like today i feel lucky to have the energy to face these interactions with patience and good humor. at other times, however, the exposure can become exhausting and leave me with nothing more than the desire to disappear someplace quiet, secret, and impenetrable. but even if a temporary vanishing act succeeds, it only makes me more conspicuous, for it is contrary to the extremely social culture in which i now live.

let's assume that i have opted to hide away for a while. now suppose i choose to step out of that place, even just for a moment; there will invariably be some children nearby who stop what they are doing to stare, wave, and wonder what incredibly mundane task i am about to undertake. is the muzungu going to the bathroom? short call or long call? is he going to take his clothes off the line? sweep the lizard leavings off his doorstep?

whatever it is i end up doing will ultimately be broadcast through a series of elaborate word-of-mouth networks to the rest of the community and beyond. in fact, i spend a great deal of my time in conversations with the local population confirming or denying information they have been given about my whereabouts, my friends, my sleeping and cleaning habits, and my meals. i sometimes feel like i am policing an extremely boring word-of-mouth tabloid. every once in a while, their information is wrong ("no - i was not in nagongera on tuesday! i went to TOWN! haha!"), and i feel as if i have won a small victory over the machine. of course, i have done absolutely nothing remarkable to earn this attention other than be a white man in africa, but i suppose that is really all it takes.

this experience has lead me to only one logical (well, i think so) conclusion. i, ofwono richard, am famous. not five touchdowns in a friday night high school football game famous, or even local news anchor famous, but REALLY FREAKING FAMOUS. i am, like, a big deal. so save that handwritten note from me or the photo of my hands facetiously clasped around your neck; you'll get all kinds of "cool points" by showing them off to your friends. because you, dear reader, know (or have been choked by) a celebrity.

congratulations, lisa!

2007-09-09T10:48:00.000+03:00

undaunted (or perhaps only mildly daunted) by the relentless paparazzi, my sister was happily married in l.a. in a beautiful ceremony at rancho palos verdes. congratulations to her and jon, and best wishes for the future...i was so happy to be there!

the happy couple beforehand!

my sister and i enjoying the classy catering!

MARRIED!

mama i'm coming home!

2007-09-05T16:09:00.000+03:00

the road leading out of my village

the taxi park in kampala (hmmm, which one goes to entebbe?)

yesterday, i began my long journey back to the usa - a trip that will have taken two and a half days by the time my plane touches down in los angeles.

i set out on foot shortly after sunrise, carrying my bags to the trading center nearby where i was able to hop on the back of a bicycle and ride up to the main road into town. once there, i waited by the side of the road for a car, chatting with a ugandan friend who is very committed to making me appreciate his religion - jehovah's witness (i have been confronted about religion more times in the last six months than ever before in my life). after about a half hour, i heard an engine in the distance and soon after a subaru-esque hatchback pulled over to the side of the road. i loaded my bags into the back, where two children were already seated. the driver motioned to me and indicated that i should sit in the front...in his seat...with him. i have seen this arrangement countless times before (from the back seat) so i did not hesitate to give it a try. there were already four people in the backseat and two in the front passenger seat, so it seemed like the only option. i tried several different configurations, most of them involving knees, feet, and/or torsos where they really should not have been. ultimately, the driver concluded that this tall white man was not going to fit up there with him, so he swapped me for one of the passengers in the back. we continued like that into town - two children in the back cargo area with my bags, myself and three other adults in the backseat, two adults in the front passenger seat, and two adults in the driver's seat.

after a leisurely breakfast in town, i carried my bags (one on my head for good measure...i am in africa, after all) to the taxi park. i want to go to kampala, but only after a stop in jinja for various gift purchases. so, i take a seat in the jinja taxi and wait for it to fill up with people. i wait...and wait...and wait. finally the driver hops in and we take off, soon bouncing and swerving around on some of the worst paved roads i have ever seen. after three hours, i am in jinja, eager to drop my bags and take care of some shopping in one of the many local craft shops. the one i have targeted is run by a woman i met previously, who is more than happy to see me, help me find the right things, and receive my payment...so happy, in fact, that she carries all of my purchases from the store all the way to the taxi park with me, about fifteen minutes away. i leave soon after on a much more comfortable ride into kampala.

i am currently sitting at the peace corps office, taking care of some business on the internets. all that remains is a mid-day feast right around the corner, a hired car ride to the taxi park shown above, a taxi to entebbe town, another hired car ride to the airport and a couple of short, 10 hour flights to los angeles!

the landmark gecko v. roach decision

2007-08-29T16:02:00.001+03:00

i woke up early this morning, alone in my dorm room at our teachers college, a bit startled by an unusual scratchy crunching noise not unlike the sound of a cautious footfall on a dry leaf. i was pretty sure the sound was coming from inside, perhaps near the corner of the room. upon investigation, i discovered something quite magical. here in uganda, i have encountered cockroaches and geckos aplenty, but this morning i bore witness to the hilarious predatory union of the two. my friend the gecko was clinging to the wall behind a neighboring bed with his little gray-green jaw clamped down tightly on the head of an enormous cockroach. as if this wasn't enough to get me excited, the gecko was "jump-chomping" on his prey's miserable face - leaving his back feet planted on the wall, he would raise his front feet, torso, and roach-filled maw up in the air and, with all the gecko force he could muster, let it come crashing down in one crunchy, heroic bite.

i have beaten, burned, drowned, eaten (inadvertently), and/or crushed many cockroaches in my day, only to see them later run away, after i believed they were long dead, to have another 1000 babies in my cupboard. based on such experience, i was convinced this wretched beast before me was still very much alive, perhaps merely playing along with the gecko, mildly inconvenienced in the same way you or i might feel when we've been roped into a conversation we never wanted in the first place with a person who does not respond predictably to standard and widely understood social cues. sure enough, i left the two of them alone for a minute to put my camera away and i returned to find only the gecko remaining. the cockroach was nowhere in sight, presumably back on task being filthy somewhere dark. apparently, our young gecko finally got the hint.

i am not fearing...?

2007-08-25T16:07:00.000+03:00

well, back to work!

2007-08-13T16:28:00.000+03:00

clearly, it's been all business and no party (unlike my hair) since my return to uganda.

actually, things have gotten quite busy here and for that i am glad. it just so happens that i do not take pictures of myself at work...though perhaps i should start?

there have been two major developments on the work front recently. first, the computer lab project i mentioned in an earlier post is now off the ground, and we have begun work refreshing some machines at the teacher college. second, my counterpart and i are preparing our coordinating center for what could/should be a worthwhile resource room, full of teaching materials and hopefully a computer. like most projects here, we are simply waiting for some financial support.

anyway, it's nice to feel somewhat useful here. my next big event is a three-day language workshop, in which i hope to rise to a new level of jap proficiency.

bedi maber.

go to the light, little friend...

2007-08-13T16:23:00.000+03:00

do not feed the baboons?

2007-08-13T16:05:00.000+03:00

i may have mentioned to some of you that there is a magical forest just short of tororo on the road from kampala. on the edge of this forest, you can sometimes spot a small pack of hungry baboons waiting for handouts from passing vehicles. i have seen these fellas several times before, but only from the back corner of a taxi at 110 km/hr.

however, luck was on my side after my medical voyage to south africa. instead of a taxi, i got a ride back in the sweet peace corps land rover. and, as an added benefit, i was being driven by a ugandan who was just as enthusiastic as i was about seeing "our friends." sure enough, they were waiting for us by the side of the road. the driver slowed to a stop, tossed an apple core and a half-empty sack of yogurt out the window, and i snapped the photo above.

nuggies, at long last

2007-07-30T11:10:00.001+03:00

under normal circumstances, i would be both morally and nutritionally opposed to eating anything from mcdonald's. i know the food is bad and the corporation is worse. hell, i've only ordered one solitary extra value meal in the last 6 years. but my friends, these are not normal circumstances. i have been living in a wonderful ugandan village for the last four months, meeting incredibly friendly people and settling into my new home, which features endless summer weather, waterfalls, tea breaks, mountains, banana plantations, and lizards. but the food, while delicious and satisfying, has been a big change from what i am used to. for perhaps the first time in my life, my body is regularly informing me that i have not eaten enough fatty, unhealthy foods. i crave burgers, fries, pizza, and cakes, and go to great lengths to eat such things. but perhaps the most specific and unexpected craving i had was for a hot "chicken" mcnugget dipped in a tub of "fresh" sweet & sour sauce. i don't know where that craving came from or why it surfaced. but like harold & kumar, i knew i would not rest until my stomach got exactly what it wanted. which is why i was so happy upon my arrival in pretoria (i.e. america in africa). within walking distance of the guest house were two large golden arches, promising an end to my quest.

nugget in the sauce!

nuggies in the mouth!

robots, robots, everywhere!

2007-07-25T12:06:00.000+03:00

ok, i am sure you are all aware of the fact that the english spoken in different parts of the world may not always be your english. it is largely the same, but there will inevitably be words or phrases that surprise or confuse you. juicy bits in your orange juice for example. or the theater highlighted in my previous post.

i recently stumbled upon what, to this point, is the most awesome regional english term i have ever heard. there are no traffic signals in south africa. there are only robots, and they are everywhere. for the last week, i have been sleeping in a city where robots live on nearly every street corner, and they are tirelessly running the show. by law, you must obey them. and if you fail...may god have mercy on your soul.

poo fly!

2007-07-10T09:46:00.000+03:00

behold the poo fly. perhaps not surprisingly, i first encountered this tiny, stink-obsessed creature long before i arrived in uganda. but what always bewildered me about him was that i had only ever seen one single poo fly in my entire life. he lived in the men's bathroom on the 3rd floor of my old office building in baltimore. sure, there were some days when the interior of that room was enough of a disaster that i would perhaps hold my breath and/or forgo a hand-washing to minimize my time commitment inside...but i never felt it was quite bad enough to spawn a new insect species. at any rate, it seemed to be exactly what had happened, and the poo fly achieved a near mythical status in my mind. this was clearly a creature that loved filth and had exquisitely discriminating taste. i felt oddly proud of the fact it had chosen a bathroom i used everyday to call its home.

you can imagine my surprise when, soon after arriving here in uganda, on the other side of the world, i encountered my old friend. i played it cool though, addressing him in a even tone. "poo fly," i said. that's as far as our conversation went. he pretended not to hear and clung lazily to the wall of the putrid pit latrine to which i was contributing. but what i did not realize at the time was that i had not been followed here by the familiar feces fiend from the 3rd floor. no...this was one of his countless relatives, who must have existed in uganda all along! perhaps my old friend grew up here and, by some odd twist of fate, i caught him on a holiday trip to our bathroom in baltimore, which he undoubtedly read about in a poo fly budget travel publication. i don't know. what i do know that my illusion was shattered. i had not, in fact, witnessed the dawn of a species.

burdened by the weight of this realization, my relationship with the poo fly quickly soured. we still speak, but it is always one-sided and my tone grows harsher each time i see him. well, actually, now it is them. they seem to be everywhere. "f*&#ing poo flies!" i mutter every time upon entering the latrine. for some reason, these tiny creatures plague me more than anything else. it is not so much that they interfere with my life or play any active role in disturbing me. for the most part, they keep to themselves. it's what they stand for...

the african carry-all

2007-07-06T09:30:00.000+03:00

it is quickly evident to anyone who is visiting uganda for the first time that the bicycles here are for more than riding. every day, i see people heroically carrying literally anything on their bicycles. giant bunches of bananas, enormous bundles of firewood, dozens of jerrycans, shelves, beds, and even entire storefronts have been spotted. however, i think my favorite cargo-spotting so far has been the bundle of live chickens shown above, enjoying a brief pit stop before continuing on to the local market. it is also worth noting that, not 10 seconds after i took this photo, one of the chickens began bocking and swaying enthusiastically (perhaps suddenly aware of his fate), causing the bicycle to tip over!

celebrating the 4th

2007-07-05T15:10:00.000+03:00

several people have contacted me wondering how ugandans celebrate the 4th of july. yesterday, i was able to witness this rich cultural showcase first-hand. people from all over the country piled into their giant, shiny SUVs and drove (sometimes great) distances to meet behind the houses of friends and/or relatives, where they proceeded to roast massive quantities of processed meats over an open flame. once the meats had been sufficiently seared, they were placed on pre-sliced bread products and coated in yellow, red, and green sauces. the participants then ate everything in sight, drank impressive amounts of alcohol, and lit the fuses of what appeared to be rockets or bombs of some kind, which were launched and thankfully exploded harmlessly in mid-air, sparing the lives of those they had so unskillfully targeted for (perhaps) threatening dependence.

i hope you can imagine such a celebration. i know it must be a stretch, as cultures can be so very different. but uganda is fiercely proud of america's independence, and they left nothing in the tank. it was an all-out celebration!

or maybe it was just like any other day...though a bit cooler and rainier than usual. you pick the story you would like to believe! i miss all of you and hope you had an excellent time celebrating the 4th, cooking out, and being merry. instead of hot dogs and hamburgers, i ate the plate of posho and beans shown below (topped off with some taco bell sauce that my friend got in a care package!)

is that a lizard up there?

2007-06-27T17:48:00.003+03:00

nope. it's three.

it has been a while since i've seen all of you. this is what i look like as of a few days ago. i have not cut my hair since february, which is actually quite fun (especially when bucket-shampooing). i have the beginnings of a mullet-curl working it's way into being back there, though this photo unfortunately belies its majesty. i am also recovering from a 2 month "beard-off", which ended recently after a cease-fire agreement was reached at the base of sipi falls. i have since been maintaining the more respectable level of growth seen here. and i am happy to report that i have not lost much (if any) weight, thanks in part to the care package chocolate i've been housing and the pancakes i've been making from scratch on those lazy mornings...

oh, and the farmer's tan has never been so...um...pronounced. the skin under my shirt is so white it's blue.

every car is a taxi...

2007-06-23T16:57:00.000+03:00

...and every driver is a mechanic.

in order to get from my village to tororo town (unless i ride my bicycle), i need to walk or hop on the back of a bike to the main road (40 minutes away by foot) and wait for a taxi, which essentially means waiting for anything with an engine on four wheels. i will sit for a while under a tree, watching some bicycles and pedestrians pass, looking northwest for any sign of a motor vehicle. when i see one, i just walk to the road and make the universal "pick me up, please" gesture with my raised hand. unless the car is beyond full or driven by someone with more than enough money to care (unlikely), they will stop and "extend a bit," making room for me and my 1000 shillings somewhere, somehow.

there are no standards. if the car is moving in the right direction, it is good enough. the ride into town is a relatively short, but often eventful one. once i had a flat tire and was stranded for an hour in the blistering mid-day sun waiting for a spare to arrive. on another occasion, the car ran out of gas...not once, but several times. at first i did not realize what had happened. as the driver walked to the front of the car and popped the hood, i thought, oh, he knows what the problem is and will try to fix it. what i did not expect was to see him try to prime the starter/engine/whatever with gasoline that he had *sucked into his mouth*. wow. i was really hoping we would get to town at that point so i could buy him a drink...either to thank him for going that extra mile, or just to clean the freakin petrol from his mouth. but, of course, we didn't make it. out of gas for good this time, stranded again by the side of the road. but, what do you know...another car soon approaches with just enough room for me...so i hop inside, surprise some people with my novice dhopadhola skills, and finally reach my destination.

so what would you say you DO here?

2007-06-23T16:52:00.000+03:00

a lot of people have been asking me about my job and the types of things i am doing here in uganda. it is a little strange at this point, as an education volunteer, because things have been moving along exactly as we have been told they would: frustratingly slow. what is keeping me from growing impatient are all the warnings we received throughout training about this very situation. volunteers in the education sector typically find that they initially have a lot of free time. little by little, though, meetings happen, schools are visited, workshops are held, projects are conceived. i am currently at the stage where work is not so plentiful, but i am eager to get rolling and trusting that things will start picking up soon.

that said, i have been quite busy. being a peace corps volunteer is not like working nine to five. rather, we are told on countless occasions that our job is 24/7. that does not mean we are planning lessons and writing reports non-stop; a big part of being here is learning how to integrate into an african community, speak a new language, grow comfortable with transport and local resources, and simply how to survive in such a foreign environment. it makes sense then that, at the beginning, these types of things would demand a majority of our time. that just about answers the question then, right? but it makes me feel a little strange when i hear people tell me how proud they are about the good i am doing in the world. sure, i am here with the best intentions, but if my job did not change over my two years here, i would honestly feel like this has been nothing more than one long, educational vacation. however, please know that i do not expect that to be the case! it's just gonna take some patience, creativity, discipline, and motivation to accomplish the goals i set for my work here. and i think i have come well-equipped.

i am still very new to this environment and the ugandan education system, but i feel like i have a couple decent ideas for projects while i am here. i recently met with the man in charge of the computer lab at our teachers' college. the lab is astonishingly well-equipped, thanks to contributions from usaid. the ten computers are old, but completely usable. they just need some tlc and reconfiguration, as well as a modest software library on hand for support if things go wrong. we discussed plans for installing a lean software set that will improve the performance of the machines and protect them from viruses and tampering without the need for any cash outlay on the part of the college. if this works out, i will have trained the lab manager on how to do all that we discussed and he will be equipped to pass that information along to others as he pleases. that, for me, would be a pretty satisfying victory.

another, more challenging, project i am committed to is that of encouraging a more creative approach to learning among uganda's crop of new teachers. in my brief exposure to the education system here, it is clear that instruction is very off-the-shelf. the teachers have been taught using a limited set of methods and have been trained to teach in that same way. i have witnessed young teachers exhibit an exciting amount of energy and enthusiasm in the classroom, but it is almost as if it is being wasted on teacher-centered methods which fail to actively engage the students or promote critical thinking skills. their personality, rich as it undoubtedly is, is sadly underutilized. my hope is to encourage even just a few of these young teachers to draw a little outside of the lines of habit and routine that have been confining education here. i believe that critical thought and a creative approach to learning are very crucial in recognizing limitations, facing challenges, and moving forward.

so, yeah, i don't think i'll be at a loss for things to do over the next two years. i just have to tune my expectations for this new environment that operates so differently from the one i am used to. as they say in dhopadhola, "moth moth..." (slowly, slowly...)

my neighbor

2007-06-14T18:03:00.001+03:00

when i open my backdoor, i see my neghbor's house. he is a primary 7 student (approximate equivalent to our grade 7) at our school, and incredibly friendly and courteous. it actually just occurred to me that he will soon be leaving and moving on to secondary school. this is too bad; he is one of the good ones. and he has seen many of your pictures...

my borehole brings all the boys to the yard!

2007-06-14T17:50:00.001+03:00

here is a picture of my jerrycans (and cell phone charging atop). that's the term in uganda for these plastic containers which are used primarily for transporting water. running water is more prevalent here than i would have suspected, but a vast majority of people still live without access to such luxury. in my case, i live about a 5-10 minute walk from my borehole. that is the term for a hole that is bor-ed into the ground to yield water. the science behind it escapes me. all i know is that you pump a bit and water comes out. and when the water comes out, it usually ends up in one of thse jerrycans which are subsequently carried by hand, head, or bicycle back to where it will be used (e.g. home).

water was a constant struggle for me when i first arrived, because i had no help and could only carry about 20 liters (approximate daily need) at a time. but with some help, i have assembled a healthy supply of water so that i do not have to go fetch it every day. i must boil (and let cool) all of my drinking water to kill any bacteria that may be lurking invisibly, waiting to wreak havoc on my weak muzungu plumbing. and much to my pleasure...my borehole tastes great.

moo

2007-06-14T17:43:00.000+03:00

here is a peek at my pit latrine and bathing area. the door on the left is where i go when i need to....ahem...poop into a hole. the door on the right is where i go with a bucket of water and some soap when i'm sufficiently coated in grime. and the two cows sometimes eat my grass. the one on the left has quite possibly been photographed in mid-dump. i went outside soon after to find a fresh, steaming pile right outside my latrine door. hoo-ray.

1 message received

2007-06-14T17:25:00.000+03:00

this is my cell phone (lifeline). never had i imagined how attached i would become to a such a thing. i resisted for a while in the states, but gave in like almost everyone else after a time. it is admittedly convenient and addicting. even still, i would leave it behind whenever possible and enjoyed the ensuing freedom. but it is amazing how essential it has become to my life now...in africa of all places. communications here are like this: texting is the primary means and keeps all of the volunteers united in an otherwise very isolating situation; outgoing calls are expensive and therefore rare; incoming calls are free, welcomed, and usually received with a great deal of excitment; email is the new snail mail; snail mail is the new christmas.

you may wonder how cell phones work in africa, especially when they can suck so badly at times in the u.s. in fact, i find the network coverage here as good as, if not better than, the coverage i got back home. i was shocked at first, but it began to make sense once i thought about it. of all the infrastructure a profit-seeking company could install in a place like this (water, electricity, roads, sewer), what is faster/easier than building cell towers here and there on top of rocks? there are no connections to be made; it all happens thorugh the air. magical. and once these towers are in place, the cell companies can just kick back and collect our airtime fees. cost < benefit.

and the benefits are quite mutual, i assure you.

you can send me mail!

2007-06-08T16:24:00.000+03:00

my address for the next two years is, and will likely remain:

rick barley, pcv
p.o. box 881
tororo, uganda

conquering the plug

2007-06-03T15:50:00.000+03:00

it's a blazing hot sunday afternoon in tororo, and i've taken shelter at my friend erin's place in town. she has a nice little mac laptop that she's been kind enough to let me borrow for a few hours so i can type for free. it's a good feeling. and there's a paul simon concert happening in the background, courtesy of itunes. this all makes me really wish i had a laptop here. it sounds a bit crazy, and i sure felt that way before i left, but it would be so nice to have. if i end up coming home for a little wedding or something, i'm gonna try to find a cheap little lappy to take back here with me.

yesterday was an interesting (and pretty fun) day. as usual, nothing went quite as expected. this peace corps experience, if nothing else, will have provided me with an excellent ability to just roll with the punches and not put too much stock in any expectations i may foolishly formulate. the day began early, as i scrambled to get ready in time to catch a car that was supposed to leave my village for tororo at 7:30am. just as i was about to leave, i heard from the driver that he had "a puncture" and was seeking a mechanic, so he would not be able to give me a ride. at least he was cool enough to call, which i never would have expected. ah, expectations.

so what to do now? i know i am supposed to meet some fellow volunteers in the morning so we can climb that enticing "volcanic plug" (pictured above) on the edge of town. but i don't know when, and i don't want to hold up the operation. i could walk 40 minutes to the main road and try to flag down a car...but that might take hours. i could also hop on my bike (yes, the interwolf!) and take that into town, but that single lane, bumpy, dirt track is long, hilly, generally insane and my bike is not really road-tested yet. but there's wolfy, sittng by my door, with that look on his "well fitted body" (yes it also says that, in addition to "interwolf," on the frame) that i just can't say no to...so i bungee corded my backpack to the carrier, rolled up my pants, put on my helmet, and began my ride.

thankfully, i left early enough to beat the heat and the bulk of the traffic, which consists not only of bikes (some of which are carrying six-foot wide bundles of firewood or perhaps 100 liters of "local brew" in multiple jerry cans), but pedestrians, animals, motorcycles, cars, and trucks as well. all sharing the same single, bumpy dirt lane, flanked on both sides by...gorge-like gutters. it's quite a scene. I could try, but I would not be able to describe it nearly as well as ryszard kapuscinski:

driving a car...is kind of an unending process of compromise: everyone knows the road is narrow, old, crammed with people and vehicles, but they also know that they must somehow find a spot for themselves on it, and not only find a spot, but actually move, advance forward, make their way toward their destination. every few moments, each driver, cattle herder, or pedestrian is confronted by an obstacle, a conundrum, a problem that needs solving: how to pass without colliding with the car approaching from the opposite direction; how to hurry along one’s cows, sheep, and camels without trampling the children and crawling beggars; how to cross without getting run over by a truck, being impaled on the horns of a bull, knocking over that woman carrying a twenty kilogram weight on her head. and yet no one shouts at anyone else, no one falls into a fury, no one curses or threatens – patiently and silently, they all perform their slalom, execute their pirouettes, dodge and evade, maneuver and hedge, turn here, converge there, and, most important, move forward.

after about an hour of negotiating my way through this minefield-in-motion, i coasted into town sweaty and a bit tired...not only physically, but mentally as well. one can only here "muzungu!" so many times in such a short period of time and still maintain sanity.

over the next several hours, a hearty team of "japland" volunteers assembled, all eager to set out on our mission to climb tororo rock. it's an odd quirk about this area, where dhopadhola speakers are known as jopadhola (singular: japadhola) and the place where they live as japland. yes, the volunteers in this region have all been having a little too much fun with that fact (e.g. check out the flag we made to plant at the top of the rock). enough said, i guess...

by mid-afternoon, the team of seven enthusiastic jap volunteers set out on our quest. the sun was hot as we began our climb, but the vegetation soon provided sufficient cover for our 45 minute long climb to the top.

most of the path was pretty steep and rocky, and there were three ladders fixed to the rock near the top to help us up the especially steep sections.

the top of the rock itself was a bit disappointing, dominated by a large, fenced-off cell phone tower and some other random equipment. it was a little difficult navigating the terrain up there, with shoulder-high grasses obscuring our view of the ground and where might be a good place to step. but, holy crap, the view up there was pretty incredible. to the east, we could see our little town, the foothills of mount elgon in the distance, and a bit of kenya beyond. to the west is a beautiful little green "hill range" and the magical tororo cement factory. overall, well worth the climb and a good afternoon of exercise. and then the con-men showed up.

not something you'd expect at the top of a volcanic plug, but then again, what good are expectations?

one of the men was wearing a security guard's uniform and the other was wearing street clothes but was carrying a night stick (almost a policeman, i guess). they were both sweaty and visibly fatigued from chasing us up the side of the rock. they feigned authority with an almost amusing amount of commitment and claimed that we needed to pay them for our climb, especially because we had already come to the top and taken pictures. we were surprised at this whole bizarre scene, and their insistence quickly soured our mood. instead of enjoying the view, we had to deal with these idiots trying to trick the stupid "whites" into emptying their pockets with no documentation of entry fees or anything. to make a long story short, we hiked down the rock, argued with them some more, and got rescued by the supervisor of one of the other volunteers (erin) who just happened to be nearby. he had picked up one of the local police chiefs who confirmed that these men were simply trying to rob us; the hike up the rock is free for all and requires only that we register with the town beforehand (oops). no big deal, though. just another surprise, another saturday in africa.

the daily afternoon rainstorm was just starting to kick into high gear, so erin's supervisor offered us a lift back into town in his pickup truck. of course, non of us want to get sent home early (riding in the back is a no-no), so the seven of us packed into the CAB of a pickup truck and off we went. in all honesty, I feel an odd sense of comfort and accomplishment at being packed like a sardine into the vehicles here.

blog practice

2007-05-30T18:52:00.000+03:00

ok, it has been a long time since i did anything with my blog. in fact, i believe i was sitting in my half empty apartment in baltimore the last time i logged into this thing. but that is all about to change now! i am converting all of my previous mass emails to blog posts soon and will make a point of posting here for the rest of my time in uganda. in the meantime, enjoy this glorious thunderhead.

in the middle of a great book...

2007-05-25T15:33:00.000+03:00

for most people, the real world ends on the threshold of their house, at the edge of their village, or, at the very most, on the border of their valley. that which is beyond is unreal, unimportant, and even useless, whereas that which we have at our fingertips, in our field of vision, expands until it seems an entire universe overshadowing all else. often, the native and the newcomer have difficulty finding a common language, because each looks at the same place through a different lens. the newcomer has a wide-angle lens, which gives him a distant, diminished view, although with a long horizon line, while the local always employs a telescopic lens that magnifies the slightest detail.

- ryszard kapuscinski, shadow of the sun (a book i highly recommend to anyone looking for an extremely thoughtful, well-written, and captivating book about africa)

glorious sipi falls

2007-05-20T12:45:00.000+03:00

yesterday, a group of us went up into some incredible mountains east of here to a waterfall to chill out and spend the night. it is like paradise - perfect temperature, no mosquitoes, incredible colors (red clay, green vegetation, blue sky, white clouds, gray/brown rock, waterfalls), amazing views, and a sunset from on top of a peak looking out over the never-ending plains to the west.

i had already been to this place once before and hiked to the base of the main waterfall (see above), so i wanted to do something different. a few of us went with a guide through the small village nearby, walking up a dirt road to a small trail entering some matooke (green banana) fields. he told us there was a path to a "lookout" that he could take us to but we would have to pay 1000 shillings to pass through someone's property. no big deal, so we continued on through an impressive maze of small walking trails through these matooke fields, past thatch-roofed mud huts, women washing clothes and children carrying water, cows and chickens milling about...it was a surreal glimpse at a life that is far from anything i have ever experienced...an amazing degree of isolation and resilience, i guess. after 10 or 15 minutes, we reached a clearing onto a rock face which dropped several hundred feet straight down below to a patchwork of matooke and coffee fields on a plain leading up the continuation of the mountain range. i counted 5 waterfalls on the side of the mountain facing us before an old man, the owner of the land, came out to greet us (and collect our shillings). i greeted him in one of the local languages i know and he was shocked to hear a white person greeting him like that. it was great...one of those "i can't believe this is my life" moments. and so far, there have been many here in uganda.

got my v-card!

2007-05-16T12:44:00.001+03:00

hello once again everyone!

i am wrapping up my first week "at site" (my new home). it has been much more eventful than i would have imagined, mainly because i have been scrambling around between my village (kisoko), the nearest town (tororo), and the coolest city i've been to in uganda (mbale) looking for things i need. i wonder if you can find those places on google maps or ms live local or something. i'm not really able to try on these machines :)

I HAVE A NEW ADDRESS NOW!

send all letters, packages, and rubber chickens to:

******************
rick barley, pcv
po box 881
tororo, uganda
******************

anything sent previously will end up in kampala and i will have to retrieve it myself when i return there (sometime soon, i hope). so unless otherwise directed, send all mail to the new tororo address!

you may notice that i am a pcv now, no longer a pct. i received the big V last week during our swearing-in ceremony at the ambassador's house in kampala, (see group photo above) shortly before our many-hour hour ride in a pickup truck containing 6 people and 3 volunteers' worth of luggage. we got in an accident, too. t-boned a cow. it was amazing. and the best part was when the cow just got up and walked away. i thought it was dead!

my new home is pretty great, though still filthy. i have yet to spend a full day there to really lean into a much needed cleaning project. we painted the place on monday, which made a huge difference...now i need to clean up the cement floor and kill all of the termites. i was fascinated to see them in action yesterday...they start on the floor at the base of a (freshly painted) wall and move upwards, making a trail of dirt or something brown on the wall. it starts as a single line (about 1cm wide) near the floor and branches off in many directions to form what looks like a dirt rendering of a leafless tree on my wall. greaaat. check out the photo below!

lots of scrubbing and killing to do. and speaking of scrubbing, i've taken my first few african bucket baths (i was spoiled to have running water at homestay). the first one took about 40 minutes until i discovered the "splash-n-rub" technique, which is key. oh, and my house has electricity! (though it's mostly off and problematic when on...)

i bought a "sports bike" (mountain bike) yesterday in mbale. it is very used, but serviced well, i think. the gears shift a bit unpredictably, which is fun. the best part is the name on the side of it: INTERWOLF. i love it. it will be my means of transport for most of the next 2 years. riding the wolf.

i will keep this short(ish) for now. thanks for all of your messages, calls, and mail. i'm feeling pretty good (though eating less now that i need to hunt and gather on my own) and surprisingly busy for just arriving. i leave today for a 2 week workshop at one of the training colleges...so by the time june comes, i will have stayed at my house only 3 nights. oh, and one more thing about the house...it will have a GUEST ROOM (with bed and 'skeeto net). so do not fear the accommodations if you want to visit (and you should!)

i hope you're all doing well...talk to you soon...

my new home

2007-04-26T12:23:00.000+03:00

the main purpose of this session is to share some pictures that i was finally able to "develop". it's been pretty difficult to get access to proper technological resources (not surprising), but i'm excited to finally be able to share a bit with you all!

the basketball hoop was actually constructed from scratch by another volunteer and mounted on a "found" bamboo tripod. it's awesome! note: a soccer ball serves as a better basketball than the volleyball pictured...

here i am with tim (left, with mad shillings) and joe (center) on my birthday. our beards are still young in this photo, and would last another 6 weeks before being scaled back.

anything is funny after a few nile specials.

torso in the north, legs in the south.

this is my amazing homestay family, having a phenomenal mid-day meal to celebrate easter and my brother lawrence's birthday. from left to right, we have: josephine (mama wange, who was an excellent stand-in for my real mom and kept me very well-fed), rita, sam, joseph (crushing some chicken), and the birthday boy, lawrence.

here i am at the source of the nile, in the town of jinja.

ok, those are my pictures. stay tuned for more!

i am now in tororo, the cement capital of uganda. it is the nearest city to my home for the next 2 years (kisoko, 7 miles away). the surrounding area is quite beautiful and is dominated by a "volcanic plug" which rises inexplicably hundreds of feet from the base of the town, covered in thick vegetation and most annoyingly by a cell phone tower at the top. it's climbable and offers a pretty excellent view, i'm sure. i hope to hike up there soon after i move to my new home...

my school in kisoko seems great...it is quite peaceful there and my first impression of my colleagues has been good. this morning i caught a glimpse of mount elgon in the distance...ah, mountains. there is a farming project at the school, which means that cows are free to walk and crap on my grass...so far it is quirky and charming, but only until i step into a steaming pile in the middle of the night on my way to the latrine. haha. my school is only 5 miles from the teachers college, which is GREAT. that's where i can teach workshops to teachers-in-training and is probably where i will want to focus my efforts. they have a pretty well-stocked computer lab with internet and "always-on" power, which is pretty rare in uganda. i'm still not so sure i believe that claim!

two weeks from now, i will officially be a resident of kisoko. that's pretty hard to believe. we have one week of training left and then we swear in and move off to site. i'll be excited once i get a few of my housing issues ironed out. it seems like the school is a little less prepared for me than they should be. but i'll just have to trust that things will work out...and i expect that they will :)

ok, i should probably go. thanks for all of your email, snail mail, text messages, and phone calls. i remain amazed at how available communication has been, even if it is just a small fraction of what i'm used to...

take care, everyone!