the landmark gecko v. roach decision

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...?

well, back to work!

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...

do not feed the baboons?

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

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!

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!

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

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

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?

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...

...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.