September 12, 2007
Nibanyeta Jen. Ninduga NY omuri America. Kwonka hati, ninntuura (…) omuri Uganda. Nyine emyaka babiri n'itaano. Ninkunda kurya na kubyama. Tinkukunda kwega.
I'm supposed to be studying for my first mock LPI that's tomorrow afternoon. But, instead, I'm being a master procrastinator and typing up this post. J At least I have the key phrase down: "Tinkumanya."= "I don't know." hehe Oh, and "Garukamu, mpora mpora". That's important too. "Repeat, slowly." With those two phrases, you can't go wrong!
Mosquitoes
I have been a mosquito magnet all my life. Whenever I went back to Taiwan, I'd come home with a minimum of 12 mosquito bites. My mom, on the other hand, would only come back with about a handful. (Maybe that's why she always brought me with her…?) She said it was b/c I was so sweet. Riiight. We all know that's a bunch of bull. As I'm sitting on my bed, inside my mosquito net, I've come to a brilliant conclusion. I've decided that the mosquito net does NOT help if you've trapped a mosquito in it with you. I'm good, aren't I? Told you. I could've/should've been a Fulbright Scholar, damn it. (That'll be my next venture. Just you wait and see.) My problem now is-how do I get it out without letting another one in? oh well. Good thing I'm still taking my Mefloquine. Sadly, no vivid dreams yet. Good thing-no insomnia. And, of course, no malaria. Although, Anni thinks I might have Giardia. But it's not likely. Thank God for that. I've run out of chocolate. (Giardia meds makes everything taste metallic.)
September 16, 2007
Pretty good week all around! I passed my LPI, received mail, went to K'la, annnnd…I found out my site!
Pig on the Road
On the way back from K'la, we witnessed something fall off the back of an open truck, traveling in the opposite direction. What I originally thought was a sack of grains or some such thing ended up being a pig, whose legs were tied together. The poor thing was squealing its head off, while the owners tried to move it back onto the truck. I have to give the pig credit; even after falling off the truck at a high speed, knocking its head on the ground, and rolling around a bit, it still put up quite the fight! According to my friend, that pig will be all the more juicy/tender after having bounced off the ground. Nice.
Future Site
Not a lot of details to give (for security reasons). I can say that I will be living in the Mbarara District for the next two years, working in a hospital. And I'm super-psyched for my assignment! Mbarara is the second largest city in Uganda, kind of like a mini K'la.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
September 8, 2007
Late Night Visit
I spent the night at my friend Caitlin's. As I was leaving her room to visit the pit latrine before bed, she mentioned that there would be cockroaches hanging about. I bravely stated that I didn't mind the cockroaches. It's all part of "the experience". The first cockroach didn't faze me. The second cockroach didn't faze me, either. The third one annoyed me. But as I went to close the door, I found about six cockroaches just hanging out, having a good time. I screamed like a girl and bemoaned my situation. Cockroaches are GROSS. Their little antennas were moving, but they didn't seem to want to leave the latrine. No matter how much I tried to cajole them into going down the hole that is the pit latrine, the more adamant they were to stay put. The sight of their antennas moving is what did me in. I just stood there, with my headlamp aimed at the party of roaches, watching them. They couldn't care less about my presence. It. was. GROSS. I HATE COCKROACHES!!! And I hate the latrine!
September 9, 2007
Today was a good day. I ran for 30 minutes this morning, without wanting to die, and I did my own laundry.
Washers and Dryers
I was in college when my parents bought a new washer/dryer set. My sister called me and told me that on the day they were installed, they sat in front of the machines, watching the clothes spin round, discussing/arguing about the speed at which it spun and how quiet the machines were. They were very happy with their new purchase.
When I go back to the states, I will spend days on end watching the wonder that is the modern-day washer/dryer. I love electricity and running water. Love it. I hate doing laundry by hand. It was "relaxing" in the beginning. But after about the 4th article of clothing, my arms were ready for a break. I don't mind the scrubbing and soaking. Hell, the soaking part's easy! But wringing out the damn clothes…forget it. It's a pain. Literally. Unfortunately, it's the second most important part in washing clothes by hand. If you don't do a good job of wringing out the water, your clothes won't be dry for at least two days. Considering how little underwear I brought with me, that's not an option. I was ready for a nap at the end. But there were still my flips and Chacos to scrub, and my room to sweep and "mop" out. By mopping, I mean getting on my hands and knees and wiping with a rag. That being said, I might devote one day to vacuuming and Swiffering when I get back home. My mother's dream has finally come true…
Late Night Visit
I spent the night at my friend Caitlin's. As I was leaving her room to visit the pit latrine before bed, she mentioned that there would be cockroaches hanging about. I bravely stated that I didn't mind the cockroaches. It's all part of "the experience". The first cockroach didn't faze me. The second cockroach didn't faze me, either. The third one annoyed me. But as I went to close the door, I found about six cockroaches just hanging out, having a good time. I screamed like a girl and bemoaned my situation. Cockroaches are GROSS. Their little antennas were moving, but they didn't seem to want to leave the latrine. No matter how much I tried to cajole them into going down the hole that is the pit latrine, the more adamant they were to stay put. The sight of their antennas moving is what did me in. I just stood there, with my headlamp aimed at the party of roaches, watching them. They couldn't care less about my presence. It. was. GROSS. I HATE COCKROACHES!!! And I hate the latrine!
September 9, 2007
Today was a good day. I ran for 30 minutes this morning, without wanting to die, and I did my own laundry.
Washers and Dryers
I was in college when my parents bought a new washer/dryer set. My sister called me and told me that on the day they were installed, they sat in front of the machines, watching the clothes spin round, discussing/arguing about the speed at which it spun and how quiet the machines were. They were very happy with their new purchase.
When I go back to the states, I will spend days on end watching the wonder that is the modern-day washer/dryer. I love electricity and running water. Love it. I hate doing laundry by hand. It was "relaxing" in the beginning. But after about the 4th article of clothing, my arms were ready for a break. I don't mind the scrubbing and soaking. Hell, the soaking part's easy! But wringing out the damn clothes…forget it. It's a pain. Literally. Unfortunately, it's the second most important part in washing clothes by hand. If you don't do a good job of wringing out the water, your clothes won't be dry for at least two days. Considering how little underwear I brought with me, that's not an option. I was ready for a nap at the end. But there were still my flips and Chacos to scrub, and my room to sweep and "mop" out. By mopping, I mean getting on my hands and knees and wiping with a rag. That being said, I might devote one day to vacuuming and Swiffering when I get back home. My mother's dream has finally come true…
Friday, September 7, 2007
August 26, 2007
I have learned that some things are not sacred in PC, body functions being one of them. Whether or not someone has pooped non-stop or the opposite is a topic in passing. In some cases, it is a rite of passage as a volunteer. Getting a disease is just part of the job.
Your Body is Your Temple
If you have an aversion to bodily functions, skip this part of the post. If not, read on!
I. am. Constipated. Note the capital c. It's there for a reason. I have been constipated since Banana Village. For those of you who don't know, that's since August 7th. Okay. Wait. I've gone once since then. But that's it. Life. Is. Awesome. Anni, our PCMO, suggested that I start taking Metamucil 3 times a day, religiously, until I go. AND, I have to get a suppository. Even more awesome. I'm very excited about this, because I get to do it to myself. According to my friend, this is a lot less traumatic than having a family member do it for you. Definitely a plus. Unfortunately for another one of my friends, she has already come down with Giardia. Note to self: just say no to juice from a bag. It is NOT good for you. So, I count my blessings that I am merely stopped up. I think I'd rather be constipated than have diarrhea and bloating and burps and gas that reek of sulfur. :D
On to non-bodily functioned news…we got to visit current PCVs at their sites this past Thursday through Sunday. I visited Jackie, who is a 3rd year educational PCV.
This included our first "trip" to Kampala. Not that we really got to hang out there. It was more "go to Kampala, try and find the matatu that gets you to the PCV's site, and don't die along the way. Or get lost." Kampala was completely overwhelming after being sheltered in Banana Village and Luweero for 2 weeks. I've forgotten what big city life is like…. but I remember loving it. I think.
Transportation
If you value your life, you might want to try and avoid taking public transportation in Uganda. Actually, you might want to avoid transportation of any kind at all. Including walking. The roads are like Swiss cheese here. Driving in Uganda (on a boda-boda, bike, car, whatever) is like a slalom. If you swerve to avoid one pothole, you inevitably hit another. And the potholes are HUGE. There are chunks of road missing, so I don't even know if you can call these things potholes. Half the time you're driving on the "wrong side" of the road in order to avoid the potholes. On the way from Luweero to Kampala, we passed a bus that was upside down on the side of the road. On the way back from Kibaale to Kampala and Kampala to Luweero, we saw two more trucks flipped on their side. Riding in a sedan taxi is the worst. A normal sedan is meant for 5 people, max. The sedan I rode in held 7 adults and 2 children. And, theoretically, the driver could've squeezed one more person up front. With him. In the driver's seat. While driving stick. Don't ask me how that works, cause I just don't see it happening. (Though others in my group have experienced this phenomenon.) All I know is that I sat in the passenger seat up front, with Jackie, and had the hand-rest pressed into my back (I now have a bruise) and the stick shift shoved up my ass the entire trip.
Rural vs. Urban
I have come to the decision that rural does not equal bad. In fact, I prefer rural to urban. It is quiet, somewhat cleaner, and it's like Cheers: everyone knows your name. Plus, it's quite hard to go unnoticed since you're white. After stepping off the matatu in (insert town), all the locals automatically knew that Julie and I were headed to the local muzungu's, and they pointed us in the right direction. Everyone was really friendly, and Jackie seemed pretty well integrated into her community. The view from Jackie's place was really sweet, too. I wish I had brought my tent with me so I could camp outside at night. There was no need for a headlamp at night, because the moon and stars were so bright. Kampala, on the other hand, was crowded, noisy, and a bit stressful. Rural kicks Urban's ass any day of the week. (unless you're NYC)
It was really exciting to go out and see a current PCV at their site. It reminded me that there's life after Training and that life as a PCV can be pretty sweet. Jackie was totally comfortable at her site, was doing amazing work, and had even decided to extend her service for a third year. And it was great to get out of Luweero and be "on my own". Training is great because we're surrounded by fellow PCTs and learning essential skills. But, at the same time, the training staff dictates our daily schedule. Our lives are not our own. After the visit, I can't help but anticipate the day I get to leave for my own site, be on my own, and finally start working.
Bucket Bath
It is amazing how little water a person actually needs to wash their entire body and hair. I have discovered that taking showers is a luxury and complete waste of water. Hot water is also a luxury, but one that I enjoy thoroughly. Not that I have enjoyed it lately. So, despite the knowledge of how much water I'm wasting while taking a shower, I fully intend to indulge in a LONG, HOT shower when I get back to the States.
Idiot Moment of the Week
I locked myself out of my room. Every PCV is told that their room must have a lock on their door and that we should lock it every time we leave our room, even if it's for a short period of time. I have been following this suggestion religiously, knowing that one day I would end up forgetting my key. Today was that day. Go me! Luckily, I had opened my window before leaving my room. After a failed attempt by Jeremiah to squeeze in through the bars on my window (alas, his head was too big), some other boy managed to squeeze through and retrieve my keys that were sitting on my chair. Mind you, I purposely set my keys on the chair (and not my desk) so that they couldn't be reached from the window. Brilliant. What I learned from this experience…keep your window locked at all times, because not everyone has a big head. And maybe to buy a combination lock.
August 31, 2007
Countdowns are bad. They're not good for your psyche or your morale. And time goes by wayyy too slow if you do them. At least, that's what we were advised. And it makes sense. But, I still found myself thinking about the future again these past few days. Not the near future, but about life after PC, two years from now. It struck me that I would be thinking so far ahead when I haven't even started my PC service. But it's such a hard thing not to do; not because I can't wait to get out of here, but rather, because it's in my nature to do so. I like to make plans (and break them on occasion), have a goal, set a timeframe for things to be done... It's what I've always done. When I was in high school, I thought about where I wanted to go to college. When I was in college, I thought about how I was going to support myself. When I was a Fellow, I thought about what I wanted to do afterwards (teaching surely was not it.) And now, I'm thinking ahead again. But am I really doing myself a disservice for doing so? Am I somehow missing out on the here and now?
September 1, 2007
Today was a good day. My friend slaughtered a chicken and I had good food for lunch. As part of our "education", we had a cooking day. I learned how to make chapati, abatoga (matooke w/tomatoes and onions), ground-nut sauce, beans w/tomatoes and onions, dodo (yes, that's actually what it's called, but you can call them greens if you want), eggplant, guacamole (I know it's not Ugandan, but it tasted damn good w/the chapati), fruit salad, and, of course, the poor chicken who lost its life in Diana's hands. I didn't watch the slaughtering or de-feathering of the chicken. Nor did I eat it. I just didn't have the heart after seeing Kabayo (my language trainer) bring it home and watch it sit in his garage, waiting to be slaughtered. Apparently, Lisandro didn't have the heart to slaughter his group's chicken after having ridden with it tied to his bike. He said the chicken squawked every time he hit a bump and realized that the chicken could feel pain. Chicken slaughtering and de-feathering aside, I had an awesome time. It was fun hanging out with my friends and just talking and listening to music. No pressure to hang out with the Homestay fam or pay attention to lectures/speeches. I felt like an actual human being today. A really full and satisfied one at that.
I also learned how to wash my clothes by hand today. This wasn't as much fun as cooking. But, clean clothes and sheets for sleeping on are a plus. So, I won't complain too much. My arms and hands are tired from scrubbing and wringing things dry. And I think I used the last of the water supply in the house. oops.
The Little Things
It's amazing what things bring joy to a PCT. For instance, I'm happy that I was able to do a "long call" today on my own. Just some good ole fiber, veggies, and fruit. I'm also happy that we received 3-month-old copies of Newsweek. Luckily, I never stole my dad's copy to read back in the States. I'll be entertained for at least 2 days. And, I was able to run for the first time today since I left the States. I only ran for about 15 minutes, but it still felt damn good. And you thought I was easy to please and entertain back then…
Lesson of the Week
I can't weave for shit. We visited an NGO on Wed. and Thurs. Part of their IGAs include making their own soap, baskets, mats, pre-fabbed food, and tapestries. Some of the women were demonstrating how to weave baskets and mats. I did my best to try and weave some of the banana leaves together, but, alas, I am not a weaver. C'est la vie. I can, however, make awesome chapati and guac. If you're ever in my neck of the woods, rest assured, you will not go hungry.
Acronyms/Other
Here's a reference of all those pesky acronyms and other terms I keep using. Sorry if they're annoying. I'll keep adding as I keep using.
PCT-Peace Corps Trainee (i.e.-me)
PCV-Peace Corps Volunteer (i.e.-future me)
PCMO- PC medical officer
APCD- associate pc director
CD- country director
ET- early termination
Med Sep- medical separation
Ad Sep- administrative separation
COS- close of service
Med Evac- medical evacuation
HBHC- home based health care
PWA/PLWHA- People Living With HIV/AIDS
NGO- non-governmental organization
CBO- community based organization
IGA- income generating activity
post- country of service
site- where a PCV lives and serves
I have learned that some things are not sacred in PC, body functions being one of them. Whether or not someone has pooped non-stop or the opposite is a topic in passing. In some cases, it is a rite of passage as a volunteer. Getting a disease is just part of the job.
Your Body is Your Temple
If you have an aversion to bodily functions, skip this part of the post. If not, read on!
I. am. Constipated. Note the capital c. It's there for a reason. I have been constipated since Banana Village. For those of you who don't know, that's since August 7th. Okay. Wait. I've gone once since then. But that's it. Life. Is. Awesome. Anni, our PCMO, suggested that I start taking Metamucil 3 times a day, religiously, until I go. AND, I have to get a suppository. Even more awesome. I'm very excited about this, because I get to do it to myself. According to my friend, this is a lot less traumatic than having a family member do it for you. Definitely a plus. Unfortunately for another one of my friends, she has already come down with Giardia. Note to self: just say no to juice from a bag. It is NOT good for you. So, I count my blessings that I am merely stopped up. I think I'd rather be constipated than have diarrhea and bloating and burps and gas that reek of sulfur. :D
On to non-bodily functioned news…we got to visit current PCVs at their sites this past Thursday through Sunday. I visited Jackie, who is a 3rd year educational PCV.
This included our first "trip" to Kampala. Not that we really got to hang out there. It was more "go to Kampala, try and find the matatu that gets you to the PCV's site, and don't die along the way. Or get lost." Kampala was completely overwhelming after being sheltered in Banana Village and Luweero for 2 weeks. I've forgotten what big city life is like…. but I remember loving it. I think.
Transportation
If you value your life, you might want to try and avoid taking public transportation in Uganda. Actually, you might want to avoid transportation of any kind at all. Including walking. The roads are like Swiss cheese here. Driving in Uganda (on a boda-boda, bike, car, whatever) is like a slalom. If you swerve to avoid one pothole, you inevitably hit another. And the potholes are HUGE. There are chunks of road missing, so I don't even know if you can call these things potholes. Half the time you're driving on the "wrong side" of the road in order to avoid the potholes. On the way from Luweero to Kampala, we passed a bus that was upside down on the side of the road. On the way back from Kibaale to Kampala and Kampala to Luweero, we saw two more trucks flipped on their side. Riding in a sedan taxi is the worst. A normal sedan is meant for 5 people, max. The sedan I rode in held 7 adults and 2 children. And, theoretically, the driver could've squeezed one more person up front. With him. In the driver's seat. While driving stick. Don't ask me how that works, cause I just don't see it happening. (Though others in my group have experienced this phenomenon.) All I know is that I sat in the passenger seat up front, with Jackie, and had the hand-rest pressed into my back (I now have a bruise) and the stick shift shoved up my ass the entire trip.
Rural vs. Urban
I have come to the decision that rural does not equal bad. In fact, I prefer rural to urban. It is quiet, somewhat cleaner, and it's like Cheers: everyone knows your name. Plus, it's quite hard to go unnoticed since you're white. After stepping off the matatu in (insert town), all the locals automatically knew that Julie and I were headed to the local muzungu's, and they pointed us in the right direction. Everyone was really friendly, and Jackie seemed pretty well integrated into her community. The view from Jackie's place was really sweet, too. I wish I had brought my tent with me so I could camp outside at night. There was no need for a headlamp at night, because the moon and stars were so bright. Kampala, on the other hand, was crowded, noisy, and a bit stressful. Rural kicks Urban's ass any day of the week. (unless you're NYC)
It was really exciting to go out and see a current PCV at their site. It reminded me that there's life after Training and that life as a PCV can be pretty sweet. Jackie was totally comfortable at her site, was doing amazing work, and had even decided to extend her service for a third year. And it was great to get out of Luweero and be "on my own". Training is great because we're surrounded by fellow PCTs and learning essential skills. But, at the same time, the training staff dictates our daily schedule. Our lives are not our own. After the visit, I can't help but anticipate the day I get to leave for my own site, be on my own, and finally start working.
Bucket Bath
It is amazing how little water a person actually needs to wash their entire body and hair. I have discovered that taking showers is a luxury and complete waste of water. Hot water is also a luxury, but one that I enjoy thoroughly. Not that I have enjoyed it lately. So, despite the knowledge of how much water I'm wasting while taking a shower, I fully intend to indulge in a LONG, HOT shower when I get back to the States.
Idiot Moment of the Week
I locked myself out of my room. Every PCV is told that their room must have a lock on their door and that we should lock it every time we leave our room, even if it's for a short period of time. I have been following this suggestion religiously, knowing that one day I would end up forgetting my key. Today was that day. Go me! Luckily, I had opened my window before leaving my room. After a failed attempt by Jeremiah to squeeze in through the bars on my window (alas, his head was too big), some other boy managed to squeeze through and retrieve my keys that were sitting on my chair. Mind you, I purposely set my keys on the chair (and not my desk) so that they couldn't be reached from the window. Brilliant. What I learned from this experience…keep your window locked at all times, because not everyone has a big head. And maybe to buy a combination lock.
August 31, 2007
Countdowns are bad. They're not good for your psyche or your morale. And time goes by wayyy too slow if you do them. At least, that's what we were advised. And it makes sense. But, I still found myself thinking about the future again these past few days. Not the near future, but about life after PC, two years from now. It struck me that I would be thinking so far ahead when I haven't even started my PC service. But it's such a hard thing not to do; not because I can't wait to get out of here, but rather, because it's in my nature to do so. I like to make plans (and break them on occasion), have a goal, set a timeframe for things to be done... It's what I've always done. When I was in high school, I thought about where I wanted to go to college. When I was in college, I thought about how I was going to support myself. When I was a Fellow, I thought about what I wanted to do afterwards (teaching surely was not it.) And now, I'm thinking ahead again. But am I really doing myself a disservice for doing so? Am I somehow missing out on the here and now?
September 1, 2007
Today was a good day. My friend slaughtered a chicken and I had good food for lunch. As part of our "education", we had a cooking day. I learned how to make chapati, abatoga (matooke w/tomatoes and onions), ground-nut sauce, beans w/tomatoes and onions, dodo (yes, that's actually what it's called, but you can call them greens if you want), eggplant, guacamole (I know it's not Ugandan, but it tasted damn good w/the chapati), fruit salad, and, of course, the poor chicken who lost its life in Diana's hands. I didn't watch the slaughtering or de-feathering of the chicken. Nor did I eat it. I just didn't have the heart after seeing Kabayo (my language trainer) bring it home and watch it sit in his garage, waiting to be slaughtered. Apparently, Lisandro didn't have the heart to slaughter his group's chicken after having ridden with it tied to his bike. He said the chicken squawked every time he hit a bump and realized that the chicken could feel pain. Chicken slaughtering and de-feathering aside, I had an awesome time. It was fun hanging out with my friends and just talking and listening to music. No pressure to hang out with the Homestay fam or pay attention to lectures/speeches. I felt like an actual human being today. A really full and satisfied one at that.
I also learned how to wash my clothes by hand today. This wasn't as much fun as cooking. But, clean clothes and sheets for sleeping on are a plus. So, I won't complain too much. My arms and hands are tired from scrubbing and wringing things dry. And I think I used the last of the water supply in the house. oops.
The Little Things
It's amazing what things bring joy to a PCT. For instance, I'm happy that I was able to do a "long call" today on my own. Just some good ole fiber, veggies, and fruit. I'm also happy that we received 3-month-old copies of Newsweek. Luckily, I never stole my dad's copy to read back in the States. I'll be entertained for at least 2 days. And, I was able to run for the first time today since I left the States. I only ran for about 15 minutes, but it still felt damn good. And you thought I was easy to please and entertain back then…
Lesson of the Week
I can't weave for shit. We visited an NGO on Wed. and Thurs. Part of their IGAs include making their own soap, baskets, mats, pre-fabbed food, and tapestries. Some of the women were demonstrating how to weave baskets and mats. I did my best to try and weave some of the banana leaves together, but, alas, I am not a weaver. C'est la vie. I can, however, make awesome chapati and guac. If you're ever in my neck of the woods, rest assured, you will not go hungry.
Acronyms/Other
Here's a reference of all those pesky acronyms and other terms I keep using. Sorry if they're annoying. I'll keep adding as I keep using.
PCT-Peace Corps Trainee (i.e.-me)
PCV-Peace Corps Volunteer (i.e.-future me)
PCMO- PC medical officer
APCD- associate pc director
CD- country director
ET- early termination
Med Sep- medical separation
Ad Sep- administrative separation
COS- close of service
Med Evac- medical evacuation
HBHC- home based health care
PWA/PLWHA- People Living With HIV/AIDS
NGO- non-governmental organization
CBO- community based organization
IGA- income generating activity
post- country of service
site- where a PCV lives and serves
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