Life

It's hard being here sometimes, walking along the streets. You want so badly to help just about everyone you see...but you can't, because the kids either want to take all the money you have on you, or the guys just want to marry you. Because you're white. Because you're "rich". Because they think you can take them back to the US, or the UK. Or they can get a passport.


Actually, it makes me laugh when they hit on you. They have the dumbest pick up lines, stuff that would never work in America. Like, "You look very smart!"...which is their version of pretty or nice. Or, "I love you!". As blunt as that. Or the kids just outright ask you for your money. Even the adults do sometimes. They never do anything about it, they just want to see if maybe they'll get lucky this time. Nope. The best is when they try to rip you off at the Market. Rachel and I went clothes "shopping" last week...and this one guy tried to get me to pay 20,000 shillings for a skirt. It was nice, and that's only like, ten bucks in the US. But still it was a rip off. Cause he probably only bought it for 4,000. And he only tried to charge me five times as much because I'm white. So this Ugandan lady walks up along side us, and Rachel goes, "Miabo, how much would you buy this skirt for?"..."Eeeh...maaaybe, maybe 8,000.". hahaha We laughed and said, "See Sabo!"...but he still wouldn't give in, so we moved on. Sabo means Sir and Miabo means Mam, by the way.

The other day we went to Flavours, this Internet cafe on Main Street for a movie night...plus all the beverages were half off for two hours...so we went and got on the Internet and bought something to drink and waited to see what movie would be playing. The movie nights are free and go pretty late, and usually it's all Mzungu's who show up. I ran into Sara and she gave me a hug and said Hello. I like her, she's very friendly. The movie ended up being something super lame like Bridget Jones, so Kate and I shared a boda and went home.

Sometimes I feel ridiculous, going to the village where poverty is everywhere. That's all there is. The kids have holes in their clothes...or they're just naked. There are stray dogs. Garbage everywhere. The smell not so appealing. The little shacks are run down...and I feel ridiculous, because I boda or walk home to this great little house, that is clean and has good water, and mosquito nets, and wonderful people, and I watch pirated copies of Gilmore Girls and Arrested Development on my laptop. It's almost like you forget where you are and where those kids you just played with are going to sleep.

On Friday night we went to the boys home down the road from our house. Nancy walked us there to show us. All the Ugandan kids are deathly afraid of the dogs here, so when the boys opened the gate and three dogs ran out, she tried hiding behind me. Oh poor Nancy...we told her she could go home and off she went. haha The boys were insanely sweet...they are street boys, mostly orphans. This lady Sara (a different Sara than the one I know in town) started this home for them, instead of going to America to attend a University. That amazes me.

The boys didn't call us Mzungu, they only called us Auntie and Uncle. We asked Sara why they were so well behaved and she simply answered, "I cane them."...which sounds worse than it is. It's just their version of spanking their kids, except they use a little switch. They even do it in the schools. Though sometimes it can be super harsh. Which makes me sad. But these boys were very good...they took us on a tour of their house and then turned on some music videos on this TV in the main room...the house isn't very big and there's no way they bought the TV, it was definitely donated to them. They had Beyonce and Usher and Chris Brown. This made me laugh. And they all sang along and knew them by heart and danced for us. It turned out to be a huge dancing party.

Afterwards we went out to the yard and the boys all played football and the dogs ran around and us girls just sat on a bench and talked with Sara and listened to her story. Soon after, the cook, Grace, brought us hot sweet tea and four slices of bread. It was enjoyable for a little while, but most of us ended up feeding it to the dogs. That's awful, isn't it? I know. But it's hard to eat all the food they give you, especially when it isn't so great. I have yet to be fed actual food by one of the women, except Florence who gave us those eggs last week. After we ate, and the boys ate, all the guys started tumbling and doing flips and stuff. One of the boys has a broken arm, but he can't get a cast or anything, so he just holds it there. He still played around though.

Once that was over, all the guys started challenging Adam, Randy and Alex to arm wrestling matches...which after awhile, I decided I wanted in on. One of the boys ran up to me and said, "Auntie! We go!" and so I arm wrestled him, and beat him. And then another boy ran up, and I beat him too. And another one, and I also beat him. I promise I'm not lying. I'm as amazed as you are, trust me. So I must have beaten like, ten guys. Again, I am not lying. They were freaking out, and then they all wanted to challenge me, just to see who could beat me. Later after we had handed out candy, and gotten a million hugs for it, I asked Donald, the oldest, who is probably 15, but doesn't know his age, if he wanted to arm wrestle, since he was the only one I hadn't tried to beat already. He of course said yes...so we did, and it was a tie with my right arm, because he gave up after awhile. But then he asked to switch arms and ended up beating me, because my left arm isn't my good arm. haha I'm ridiculous. He told me he would write me a song..later on that night Alex told me my ego was showing...which was probably true. haha Adam and I are planning on going back to visit all of them again sometime soon. They all walked us home in the dark, dogs and all. It was something I won't forget. Probably one of my favorite memories since being here. They gave us a ton of sugar cane at the gate and then went home, making us promise to come back and visit. The whole way home they would hold our hands. Oh, I love them also. They remind me of Zack. It makes me sad, but they are so happy, all the time.

Yesterday we met a guy named Andrew. I guess he is a friend of Rachel and Randy's, and he knows Kate, Alex and Becca. He was a lot of fun to hang out with, very smart...he's four months younger than me and is alone. He doesn't have any living family I guess. His sister died last Spring, and his grandma just died two weeks ago. Still he is a joy to be around. He was happy to hear that I was his age, because, he said, "The volunteers are always older than me...21 or 28 or 35!"...so he continued to hang out with us for most of the afternoon, until we went to the Suubi meeting in Danida at three. We dropped him off at his home in Walukuba, I am not sure who he is living with. His English is very good, so that makes it easy to talk with him. I asked him what it meant if someone told me I looked very humble, and so he tried to explain that it meant you are a calm, mostly quiet or not very talkative person. Then he told me he was just about to tell me that when I asked what it meant. I laughed. Betty tells me this almost everyday. Which is funny, because I feel like I have been somewhat outgoing since I have been here. Ugandan people can read you so easily, even if they barely know you. I kind of love it.

Yesterday at the Suubi meeting, my job was to clasp the necklaces again, and make sure the stoppers worked. This is when you ask the women if you can come to visit them, I was a little nervous because I do not know many of them. The first woman I asked was a lady named Sali (Sally), who was familiar to me, because I had seen her around whenever I had come to the villages...I can't imagine her being that much older than me...but she lives in Danida near the Suubi building and I believe she has a little baby. When I asked, her face lit up and so I am going to visit her on Tuesday. This makes me happy. Between me and Rachel asking the women, we are going to see atleast one every day this week. Except Sali I am visiting on my own, which should be nice. This way it can be one on one and I can maybe help her with some chores and what-not. On Thursday we are going to see Agnes, who, even though I know you're not suppose to have favorites, is my favorite. I'm awful, I know. She lives in Walukuba West and is so sweet. I know I have mentioned her before.

The other day, I really wanted to go to Danida and play with the village kids. So Rachel and Adam wanted to come along, too. We brought a football and some skipping ropes and cut up a bunch of the sugar cane the boys had given us (or should I say, Nancy cut it up, because we are incapable of cutting through it with a machete, but she isn't) . We each got on a boda near the house and took off down the road...Rachel's driver ended up taking her toward Main Street (which is completely off)...but once he understood they went the right way. Adam's driver followed them. And mine stopped on a street corner, just sitting there for like, ten minutes. I tried to communicate with him and ask him why we were stopped. He seemed confused. Just as I was planning on getting off and getting on another boda, he said, "I am not understanding, exactly where it is we are going.", so I said "Danida."...which I had said about a million times already. He just made a noise, still in confusion. "Past Walukuba!"...now he understands where to go. FINALLY. haha So we drive to Walukuba, and I had to point him in each direction everytime we had to make a turn. He dropped me off a ways from the road I was going to, and I got off, stuffed 700 shillings in his hand and walked away down the road. He started yelling (they usually do) for me to pay him more, "Mzungu, you add more!"...and his friend, who I think was Adam's driver and had driven up in the opposite direction and was sitting there also, was laughing, laughing, laughing. I just kept walking. It was pretty funny. I would have paid him more except he was a super lousy driver. haha

Well, this is long. I'll write more another day. The end.