Starting 2012 off running

I was running on a scenic desert trail, below the Tucson Mountains yesterday when I was so struck by the beauty of my surroundings that I decided that I needed to write about it.

Ok, I guess photos probably capture the scene better than I could ever describe it. I started out slowly to warm up the muscles and joints but also to avoid the situation that kept playing over and over in my head: typically clumsy, I roll an ankle, or my toe catches one of many rocks poking up through the trail and I tumble forward, face and palms meeting one of the huge Saguaro, or other, cacti that line the trail.

Thankfully I did not end up fulfilling my vision and meeting only 2 other runners in the 10 kilometers, I felt closer to nature than I have in a while. I was so energized by the environment that when I did get some wide flat trails, I was able to finish the run pretty strong.

I hope to make tomorrow's run a trail run too.

So why am I running so much? I have, in a moment of temporary insanity, signed up for the Paris Marathon, scheduled for April 14th. The training is actually going pretty well, minimal injuries and I'm up to 10 miles on my long weekly training run, over 11 this weekend. I've been really lucky to have the opportunity to run in some great places since I started training too. My long runs sites have included along Town Lake in Austin, TX, and around the mall and white house in Washington, DC.

This training schedule has given me more structure than I've had in a while. Working remotely has its benefits but it also means that I don't have that office time/home time dichotomy. Work often blends into personal time and personal time into work time but I can use running as a bookend.

I know that the hardest part of training for me will be training while traveling in West Africa. In some cases the weather is REALLY not conducive to running; high heat and humidity, and in others safety could be an issue.

In any case, the beautiful city of Paris will be the motivation I need to power through. Bring it on, 2012!

I heard this quote on one of my favorite podcasts and something about it spoke to me.

"We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here."

– Richard Dawkins

Free Hugs!!

I just got home after 4 hours of hugging people and I am quite tired but I feel invigorated at the same time. The Pay it Forward Foundation of Uganda put on a Free Hugs day at one of the shopping malls in Kampala today and it went fabulously.

At first members weren't so sure about the idea but I think they were convinced after a couple hugs and a couple reactions of strangers to being offered hugs. Even if people weren't really in the mood for a hug from a stranger, they rarely walked away without a big smile on their face. Most people did take us up on our offer of a free hug and nearly all did walk away smiling, I would say that the mission has been accomplished

Travel Tips

1. Never strive to be one of the first to go anywhere, never even strive to be in the place in a queue that might seem to be in line with the natural flow of things. You will inevitably be shoved or ignored, sidled and stepped in front of or on, and if you’re like me, you’ll end up thinking not-so-nice things about the people around you and possibly letting these things slip out verbally. The key is to be the last one, anywhere, then no one will be stepping in front of you in the queue, or shoving past you while you’re attempting to place your one small bag in the over-head compartment. Once I surrendered myself to this idea, air travel has been a much more pleasant experience for me and my fellow passengers.

2. Always be polite to airport and airline employees while traveling*. They have the power to either make your life a living hell or make your trip as painless as possible. Use phrases like “Hello, how are you today?” (even better if you can manage to do it in local language) “Please” “Thank you” “Would it be possible to…?” and they’ll get you a long way.

3. Assume that your fellow travelers are the world’s most impolite, socially retarded, self-serving group of people in the world, until proven otherwise. Act accordingly. Of course this isn’t always true and when proven wrong about this, one can meet some very interesting people but making these assumptions at the start can save disappointment in human kind later in your travel.

4. The Addis airport has fresh squeezed orange juice and (of course) coffee that might very well make it worthwhile to pay extra or even come out of one’s way to fly Ethiopian Airways

5. Bring a book. Everywhere.

6. The baristas at Dormann’s in the Nairobi airport will let you jump behind the counter and make a latte for a friend (if you have some experience, they aren’t too busy and they accept your challenge of a cappuccino-off)

7. When using the buses that take passengers from the terminal to the airplane in many airports (sometimes all of 20 feet in the case of the airport in Lome), recall tip number 3 when shoving past the 30 people who are the first to get on the bus, yet insist on standing right next to the door.

8. Strike up a conversation with someone who doesn’t seem to be one of those people mentioned in tip number 3. Good conversation can make a long trip short.


* I am sure to indicate that this rule is for during travel as if you have received unsatisfactory service from an airline, Kenya Airways for example, maybe they rerouted your colleague to the other side of the continent without permission, compensation and barely a notification. With something like this, feel free to release a wrath the likes of which have never even been felt, even at the KQ customer service counter in Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi.

Repeated arguments used against rights of homosexuals and why they just don’t hold water

Even though the Bahati Bill has seemed to have gone dormant, the debate is still going about homosexuality in Uganda. Here is something I recently wrote for an online forum. Somewhat surprisingly, the forum has some strong, Ugandan voices in favor of gay rights, very encouraging. These are the main arguments that people in Uganda make against homosexuality:

1. It’s “unnatural”
a. Physiologically
As humans, we do many things that one could argue to be unnatural, yet we seem to be so hung up on this one. What about circumcision, birth by caesarian section, tattoos, piercings? What about flying? That’s pretty unnatural for humans.

So many people are so uneducated about the whole subject that they assume that homosexual sex is anal sex. It is a fact that there are many heterosexuals who enjoy anal sex and also that there are many homosexuals who don’t actually participate in anal sex.

As a human race there are far too many things that we do that would be deemed “unnatural” if we cared to think about it that this point

b. Doesn’t lead to procreation
Estimates are that between 5 and 10% of the global population is gay. Fear that because these people aren’t procreating in the standard way, we will die out as a species is just plain silly. Not only are there billions of heterosexuals procreating in the standard way to more than make up the difference but there are options like surrogacy, in vitro fertilization, sperm/egg donations and adoption so that people who could otherwise not procreate in the standard way can actually have children.

The idea that these people are should not have rights because they are not able to reproduce the standard way is also illogical, by this argument, people who don’t/can’t procreate should lose their rights. This includes nuns, priests, people who choose not to have children people who are biologically unable to have children, some people with spinal injuries, some people who have had cancer, the list goes on. We’re not talking about taking their rights away.

Another idea, how many people actually have the aim of procreation every time they have sex? I’m not sure about this but my guess is very few. Sex is not just a means to an end.

2. It’s un-African, imported by foreigners, not meant to be here
There are words in local languages all over the world for “homosexual” and sometimes there are words for the act of homosexual sex. Taking a look at linguistics, things that were brought by outsiders, often carry the foreign name or at least a name that is influenced by the foreign word, i.e. motoka = car in Luganda, abion = airplane in Wolof (avion is airplane in French). Stories about homosexuality go back to pre-colonial times. It was not imported.

3. Many of the world’s religions condemn it, it’s evil, it’s a sin
To me this argument is moot on the basis that your religion, no matter how popular or how many people adhere to it, cannot and should not govern my life. People in this country have freedom of religion. That freedom is severely diminished when laws are made based on one religion over another. If the laws were to be based on Islam or Judaism, pork would be outlawed for everyone. If laws were based on Christianity, no establishments would be allowed to be open on Sundays. And remember, freedom of religion also means that I have the freedom to chose no religion at all if that suits me.

4. It is taboo in many of the world’s cultures
There are far too many things to mention that were once considered taboo in many of the world’s cultures. How about mixed race marriage? That was once considered taboo in many, many places, still is in many. Many of the world’s cultures also considered people with darker skin to be somehow lesser than those with lighter skin – how do we feel about that one now? As the world progresses, values and ideas change. We evolve.

5. They are “recruiting” children to be gay
If this is true, which I doubt it is, these people are pedophiles no matter if they are gay or straight. Pedophilia is a problem because it involves a person who is not old enough to give their consent. Homosexuality is NOT equivalent to pedophilia. Homosexuality is a relationship between consenting adults and pedophilia is an adult taking advantage of a child, something that should be condemned no matter the genders of the adult and child.

6. It is in the same group with incest, bestiality and pedophilia.
As described above, homosexuality implies consenting adults, this is not the case with pedophilia or bestiality. Incest is usually not consensual for both parties but if it is, it can lead to severe genetic problems in offspring and is therefore illegal on the basis that it causes pretty major health issues for the population and future generations.

7. People choose to be this way
If homosexuality was a choice, why on earth would anyone in Uganda choose to be gay? This would mean opting into a life where you would be very likely to be shunned by family and loved ones and put yourself in danger any time you told someone about your true feelings. Why would anyone opt into this life it all they had to do was choose to be something else? Did you choose to be heterosexual? Is anyone able to choose their emotions or feelings? Is anyone able to choose who they fall in love with? I’m guessing the answer to all of these is “no.”


Thanks for reading!

Mzungu, the movie (the final muse)

After a month to cool off and getting away from politics thankfully... I am offended by a new documentary called "Mzungu." I recently watched the trailer and offensive, even if it is far too repeated in recent posts, is the best word for it. It's meant to be about 4 young American kids who come to "Africa" to volunteer and "change the world." The trailer goes on, "On a continent plagued by disease, poverty, survival..." (plagued by survival???) Now, in all honesty, I have not seen this film in full, but if the trailer and all the other little snippets of awesomeness on the website are any indicator, I think my guess about this movie is pretty close.

I'll let you in on something: hundreds of "mzungus" come to Uganda every year thinking they are going to help, thinking they are going to effect change. If they are lucky they'll have a great experience, and like the trailer says, it's very likely that Africa will change them more than they have changed anyone or anything in Africa. We then go back, share our great experience with friends and family, maybe get a little embarrassed that we were so egotistical in thinking that we could just show up for a month or two and have any real effect on the people who have been living here forever. Here's what we don't do - make a documentary about it! Usually we all end up learning that Africa is not the place that Western media and education lead us to believe. That it is NOT a place totally and utterly ravaged by war, famine, disease, genocide and poverty and though those things do exist on the continent, the vast majority of Africans are going about living their lives and if they got the chance to see this trailer, as some of my Ugandan friends have, they would be quite offended too. They are offended by the implication that Africa needs these bored, young, American twentysomethings to come "change" them and save them from the war, famine, disease, genocide and poverty. They are offended by the implication that they strive for "survival." They are offended by the notion of being lumped all together as one: these bored, young, American twentysomethings spent some time in Uganda and Rwanda yet the trailer keeps saying "AFRICA" perpetuating the SarahPalinesque idea that Africa is one country and not the diverse continent of 52 countries that it is.

I have a morbid curiosity drawing me to see the film though I know if I did my eyes would be in a perpetual state of roll. If you have the opportunity to see this film, go for it, just know what you're getting into.

My Muse, Parts 2 and 4

This muse is a tricky one indeed. I was on such a roll last night that I broke my own rule, the one that says "Do not bring your laptop to bed with you." Before I knew it I was surfing around, looking at some of the stuff that had been earmarked to read later, re-reading my own old posts and then it was some obscene hour and I was telling myself that morning Becca was really going to be upset with us when the alarm goes off at 6:45am.

So here are parts 2 and 4 in the series, and yes I mean 2 and 4 number 3 is a long one so I thought I'd save it for last.

Part 2

Going hand in hand with the first point on my list, I am offended by the wealth of misinformation out there, the people who create and propagate it and the smear tactics used by all politicians around election time. I watched actual US television for about 2 hours in the past 10 months and I saw enough of this to throw my hands up in disgust several times. Americans, please read about topics, and from several different sources. Do not blindly accept as fact that which your political commentator (on either side) is telling you.

Part 4

Finally, I am deeply and personally offended by thievery. I guess I have been fortunate to have only been the victim of a major theft once (that's if you don't count when the city of Philadelphia and their towing company thugs stole my car right out of its parking space), when my laptop and wallet were stolen out of my Kisumu hotel room (Never, ever stay at the Sunset Hotel!). I remember having this offended feeling then and I had it again on Monday night when, while sitting in traffic with my window down, talking to a friend on the phone, a hand reaches in my window and tries to take said phone away. I was lucky this time and managed to hold onto the phone and yell at the guy until he ran away across the street. The idea that someone can just come and help themselves to my stuff makes me feel so violated - in a way that I could never fully understand until someone stole from me.

My Muse, Part 1

I really wish I knew what it was that gave me this itch. The itch to write, that is. I have some friends who write, seemingly effortlessly, several times per month. I have others who are motivated to write by sadness, ok, I guess I'm glad that I don't need to be in a deep funk to write but knowing how to put myself in one of these creative moods would vastly help with the frequency of my blogging.

I'm starting to think that it might be those times when I feel deeply and personally offended. Usually this feeling is not directed at any one person but it still makes me feel not so warm and fuzzy that it's a negative feeling, the need to bitch, that could quite possibly be my best muse. So, what am I so offended about?

- Starting with the most timely, I am utterly offended that Wisconsinites voted out Russ Feingold yesterday in favor of some DB endorsed by the horrible Tea Party. Feingold was instrumental in Campaign Finance Reform, he was the ONLY senator to vote against the Patriot Act, he voted against invading Iraq and he's been quite active in the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations. He has spoken out against the Anti-Homosexuality Bill here in Uganda and has also been watching closely the run-up to the presidential election here, concerned that it wouldn't be free and fair. HE is who I want representing me in Washington, HE was a superior senator who actually did some good work in Washington, I am sad to see him go.


I was going to go on, and I will but realizing that this four-part bitch session went on for several paragraphs, I decided to spread it out a bit. Oh dear, I may have to follow this series with a four-part love session, with actual warm fuzzies. I'll start taking entries now...

Things left behind

Alphabet Manor, my humble abode, where I live with two roommates and two cats, has become a repository of sorts. As we host couchsurfers and as friends leave Kampala for new adventures, we become the, sometimes temporary, proprietors of all kinds of stuff. Some of this is stuff that was used and well-loved while its previous owners were here, but for reasons of practicality were left behind. For this reason we have an entire library of books, wine glasses, Cranium and a camping back-pack full of things deemed unnecessary for a trip to Southern Africa (the owner is coming back for that last one). For the same reason, a young family on the other side of town has a new dog.

The other category of stuff is that which the previous owner thought would be necessary to bring to Uganda but then found no use for it/could buy it here/was unable to use up the copious amounts that they brought. This is why we give free gifts of mosquito repellent, sunscreen and condoms to couchsurfers who pass through and why I have a bag full of at-home pregnancy tests in my closet.

I'm considering an analogy likening these quirky little gifts to the effect that these people have had on our lives, leaving us with lessons, memories and love, but it is just too schmaltzy for the moment, so I'll leave it up to your imagination.

Life, more or less ordinary

If you've been following my blog you've read a bit about life in other countries, life as an expatriate, specifically my life. A friend's blog about her family's move from Atlanta to Zurich, Switzerland has inspired me to post again after several instances of several months of radio silence. Her experience is so familiar yet so foreign to my own and I wish I could some day have the chance to sit down with her and compare notes.

I think that one reason that I've been so bad about posting is that I've stopped seeing my life here as something so noteworthy. It's normal to me and I'm less able to point out the abnormal, interesting parts for others. I did get a brief glimpse in February when I was preparing for my sister, Leah and cousin, Maura to come visit. One of the things I do automatically when preparing for a visitor from overseas is think about how they'll see and react to the various situations they'll inevitably be thrown into during their trip. How will they handle public transport? How will they react to the blatant poverty that's all around? or the disparity between the classes? or the taste of the food?...

I guess overall, I've gotten used to haggling over $0.25, the frighteningly terrible driving, the quirky greetings (Me: "Hello." ESL: "Fine, how are you?" Me: "uuh, also fine..."), the beautiful surroundings and perfect weather, the delicious and cheap produce... I've also gotten used to the very low cost of living (relatively speaking) that allows me to have things that really only the quite wealthy can afford in the US, and I've gotten used to the guilt associated with the aforementioned luxuries.

One thing that is very difficult to get used to, though, is the transient nature of the lives of expats. I've now been here for two years and in that time I've seen many of my expat friends come and go. One very good friend just left, I've gotten word that two more will be leaving in August and I will likely be following relatively shortly after. I remember talking with a friend who has been working in various embassies over the past several years, she was saying how lonely and isolating it can be, always saying goodbye and avoiding meeting new people depending on how long they plan to stay around.

On the up side, things never really get boring or predictable and I have people to visit in more or less any region of the world I could choose to go, but on the down side there's a never ending calendar of going-away parties to attend and people who used to be close enough to meet for a coffee are now on the other side of the world, but I guess it's all really part and parcel of the life that we've chosen.

The wind is in from Africa

I am the sales manager for a solar light distributor and it's part of my job to answer questions about our products. However, I'm fairly certain that the most common question I am asked these days is something to the effect of "How much longer do you think you'll stay in Africa/Uganda?" I get this question from family, friends, fellow RPCVs even people who themselves have been living here for a long time. My mom is certain that she will never reclaim her daughter from Africa, though every time I'm home she does her best to get me to commit to moving back.

The truth is that I'm not sure when and where I'll go next, but I am happy where I am, loving my job and comfortable in my skin. I miss my family and friends back in the US but I believe that each person has their own path to take and that this is mine.

I remember my urge to travel the world starting at some point during my college days at Iowa. I can remember walking along the Iowa River under an overcast sky, listening, through my headphones, to Joni Mitchell singing about far-off places and all the interesting people there are to meet out there, all the wonderful adventures there are to be had.

At that time I was limited by school and my swimming career, otherwise I might have participated in a study-abroad program. I had to settle for vacations being more or less centered on competitions or training but Joni's poetry never left me.

There is a bit of irony in the fact that my mom is the one who introduced me to Joni Mitchell's music, one of the things that inspired me to travel and live abroad. Her songs mentioning stamps of many countries and passport smiles, Paris, Rome and Grecian Isles and that "Urge for Going."

With this as well as a fascination I found in talking to people I met previously who had lived in other countries, spoke more languages than English pushed me on my way to where I am now. Now I have lived in three countries, speak three languages (ok, not fluently but I get by) and have visited 15% of the world's countries and when I think about returning to the states another of Joni's lines comes to mind: "Will you take me as I am?... Strung out on another man?" from her song "California." To me the line questions whether a readjustment to the US is ever fully possible.

Maybe I'll find out one day.

Final Goodbyes

Any time you say goodbye to someone, there’s really no telling if it’s that last time you will see them. Living so far away from family, I am a bit more cognizant of that fact and this is definitely one of the drawbacks to living abroad. If I simply lived in Philadelphia, a last-minute trip to the mid-west would be much more feasible for many reasons.

Ever since I started Peace Corps, goodbyes, especially with my grandparents began to hold a lot more meaning than they used to. The price of a ticket home along with the time it takes (12-15hr for Senegal, 24-30hr for Uganda) would likely prove prohibitive for me.

In the past few months, I have gone through this last goodbye twice with my grandpa. With the help of family, I was able make the last minute trip home to attend my grandma’s funeral in September and at the end of that trip, not knowing when I’d next be home, I anticipated the likelihood that I would not see my grandpa again and I know that he was thinking the same thing.
It was an emotionally stressful time with my grandma’s passing; all the family together, making decisions, etc (Side note: I’m pretty sure the phrase “too many cooks in the kitchen” was coined at a function where many Jews were in attendance. My Jewish family, with plenty of big personalities is no exception – everyone has their opinion and it’s their way or the highway).

I was able to make the trip home because of some generous relatives and I felt like I needed to be there for my grandpa more than anyone else. Being home for the funeral also turned out to be nice in that I got to see family and friends that I hadn’t seen in years, I would say that one of the high points about living abroad is that when you come home, people are more happy and excited to see me but sometimes I’m also starting to think that it’s wearing off. Since my grandma was 85 years old with 3 sons, 6 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren, she had lived a very full life and her funeral was much more a celebration of her life than mourning for a life left unlived.

Coincidentally, during my short stay, I celebrated my 30th birthday. Another drawback to living so far away is that I am rarely with family on birthdays or holidays. This was my first birthday home since 2005.

At the end of my visit, I said a tearful goodbye to my grandpa. I should say that the last few times we’ve gone through this, he has also cried – something I can’t ever remember seeing before and something that gets me choked up every time I think about it.

After this experience I decided to make a trip home for the holidays because contrary to what my lifestyle might say about me, family is very important to me and I miss passing the holidays with my family. Again, hadn’t done this since 2004. The trip was great and relaxing and just what I needed but at the end I found myself saying a potentially last goodbye to my grandpa.

The difference is that this time, I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Flash Back

I've been living here for going on 2 years now and although I have an admittedly horrible memory, I cannot remember it being this hot in Kampala since I've arrived. Everyone seems to be complaining about the heat. I'm currently laying in bed, not doing anything, sweating. Today was a two-shower day, reminding me of my days in Kaolack, though there are a good couple months per year with three-shower days in Kaolack.

Oh, another thing, I'm actually writing another blog these days. Not that I'm proud of it but just wanted to let you know that I have actually been writing regularly, it's just drivel. I've found myself as the Hash Scribe for the Kampala Hash House Harriers. Be warned that it won't be funny or even interesting for those of you who don't know the hash and it may not be funny or interesting for some of you who are even members of the hash but here it is: http://www.kampalahashhouseharriers.blogspot.com/

Smiles

Acting a fool

It's an obscene hour for a week night and I'm awake. I have several posts in the works that are much heavier and therefore a bit intimidating to sit down and finish but I will eventually do it. I've been reading friends' blogs and have been reminded of how neglected mine has been. Work and extracurriculars have been keeping me busy in 2010 and I'm looking forward to a great year; a visit from my sister (the last member of my family to make the trip to Africa) and a cousin and a trip to Zanzibar (inch'allah) are slated for the first part of the year.

Looking at the date has left me baffled several times already. 2010 means that it has been 5 years since I graduated from graduate school, 9 since undergrad and since my retirement from competitive swimming, 13 (ugh!) since I graduated high school and 18 since I was called to the Torah as a Bat Mitzvah. Time definitely moves differently as I get older but I have this sneaking suspicion that it somehow moves faster in Uganda, well, for me at least. Weeks seemingly gone in the blink of an eye.

Before this becomes another year of neglecting the blog I wanted to share a humiliating but funny story. Last weekend I went to see Avatar with my friend Dan. After seeing it here and loving it I'm really kicking myself for not seeing it in 3-D in the US. But I digress. After the movie Dan and I were discussing what we had just seen while walking down the ramp that takes you from floor to floor in the Garden City shopping mall. As we got to the end of one part of the ramp I look up and notice a man with his camera phone pointed at me. I stare at him for a moment before saying in an obviously irritated way "WHAT are you doing?" The man responds by shifting the aim of camera phone to a location behind be. Dan and I both turn to look and find a group of kids smiling, posing for a photo. Foot inserted in mouth, (let's be honest, this isn't an uncommon position for me) I apologize and scurry down the rest of the ramp.

All the best in 2010.

Accidents (cont.)

As I was in the middle of writing the previous post on the accident, just about a week later, I was on the porch of our office/house, meeting with a colleague when I heard a terrible screeching followed by a crash from the road. We ran over to get a clear vantage point and we saw a car in the middle of the T intersection and a crowd starting to gather. We went out to investigate and found a screaming woman (driver of the car), a young man bleeding profusely (driver of the motorcycle), a young boy laying on the ground (motorcycle passenger #1) and a young girl standing near the boy, crying (motorcycle passenger #2). The woman had been driving too fast while talking on her cell phone. She went to make a right turn (crossing the lane of traffic since we drive on the left here), didn't see the motorcycle coming from straight ahead and pulled right in front of the motorcycle with it's two young passengers. The motorcycle was also going too fast, especially considering the kids on the back and that no one was wearing helmets. The motorcycle driver hit the side of the car then smashed into the windshield, earning him a deep gash in his forehead causing him to bleed all over. The boy must have been thrown by the accident because he was laying several meters from the car and his sister was standing over him.

As soon as I came out of our gate I saw members of the crowd trying to move the boy. I screamed to the group to stop but it was no use, they continued to pick up the boy and move him to the side of the road. Soon after that, it became evident that the motorcycle driver was intending to take the boy and the girl on another motorcycle to the hospital, that means 3 passengers plus the driver on one small motorcycle. I stood in front of that motorcycle and ordered him not to move. Upon checking out the boy and girl, the boy had a large goose egg on his head and was bleeding a little from scratches on his face but didn't have any other visible injuries. The girl, while frightened, didn't seem to be hurt. The man was the scariest for me with my fear of blood, he was bleeding all over; bright, red blood. He also must have been in shock because he was walking around, talking on his phone (presumably to the kids' parents), checking on the kids and bleeding all over everything. While my colleague was on the phone, trying to get an ambulance, we got the driver a clean cloth to put pressure on his head and managed to get him to sit down.

Eventually the kids and driver were loaded into the car of a good Samaritan and we assume that they met up with the ambulance before they reached the end of our road but the scene had still been so chaotic, as I guess any accident scene is. The driver of the car was still screaming - praying to Jesus that she would be taken instead of the children. Dozens of people were milling around just to watch. The police showed up surprisingly quickly but didn't do anything aside from arresting the driver of the car. After the car had left, a man I could only assume to be the father of the two children arrived. He was, understandably, a wreck and after he got an explanation, he boarded a motorcycle taxi to go find his kids.

It was a frustrating and emotionally-charged week but I learned a couple days later that all three of the accident victims had been released from the hospital. I also learned that the boda driver is back to driving bodas. I've been told that he "sometimes" wears a helmet.

There is something just wrong about this

I'd like you to take a look at this photo. What is your first reaction?



Mine is to kind of shudder and grimace, as one does when one sees something creepy. It conjures images from the movies "Deliverance" or "The Village." Those poor, hillbilly children, the little one is so ill, probably the result of generations of inbreeding, that she doesn't have the strength to go on a walk with her big sis/mother, with the ultra-creepy long, long hair and weird hat combo.

So I first saw this image in Kisumu, Kenya. It was a horrible trip for me but I saw the image on a billboard before things went bad - maybe it was an omen.

Making this billboard even more strange is the geographical location of the company; this insurance company is in operation in East Africa (Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania), in fact they say they're the "#1 Insurer in East Africa." If you're in East Africa, why on earth are you using weird and so-pale-they're-nearly-translucent hillbillies in your ads? Maybe you should take all that money you're making as the #1 insurer and hire a better designer next time. Ick!

Accidents

In my time in Senegal and Uganda, I have now witnessed the aftermath of two accidents, one in each country. Thankfully the most recent one in Uganda was not as bad as the one in Senegal that resulted in the death of a young boy, but it did bring up some similar feelings of frustration and disbelief.

To set the scene; I was jogging in Kololo (an affluent part of town that is home to embassies and diplomats) with my friend Dan. As we came up one of the many hills that make Kampala such a joy to jog in, it was clear that there had just been an accident. A crowd of about 20 people had already gathered including one other American who had witnessed the accident. A man was laying in the middle of the road, unconscious, wearing the uniform of a security guard. It was quickly recounted that the guard had been riding on the back of a motorcycle taxi (boda-boda) when a car nearly hit them and the boda-boda swerved to avoid the car, knocking the passenger off.

Cars had stopped, thankfully stopping traffic. This is rare in other parts of town because once any car stops they are often blamed for the accident, fined and sometimes subject to an angry mob. The man woke up and started to move. Dan and I were both yelling to him to stop moving but he didn't listen, he sat up and spat out some blood. At this point we had no idea how bad his injuries were but he insisted on trying to stand up at which point it became evident that he had, at least, an obviously broken leg.

Several guards from other companies were among the group that had gathered, when I asked them to radio for help, they refused. Eventually a man from the victim's company came by but he was totally worthless. After some shouting (on our part) we finally figured out that if anything was going to happen, we were going to be the ones to instigate and pay. We needed to get him to the hospital, his guard company wasn't going to do anything for him. Neither Dan nor I had a phone or money with us so we couldn't call for a car, though nearly every other person in the group had a phone in their pocket. One man was finally convinced by my yelling and got the phone out of his pocket just in time for us to decide to send a motorcycle to bring a car.

Since the victim didn't have any money, Dan and I rode to the hospital with him, waited for quite a while for them to bring out a stretcher, as the man was moaning in agony. We told the doctors what we knew while they were interrogating him about whether he was drunk. We had the taxi drop us where our things were, where he ended up charging us double what he should have.

The truly frustrating part is what always seems like a lack of value for human life to the outsider, though I know that's not the case. The crowd of 20 standing around staring at the accident victim, not doing anything to help; the bus full of people that just ran over a boy and won't tell me what number to call when I'm screaming at them in their own language and offering to make the call. A Ugandan friend told me, when I recounted the story, that it's not uncommon for these crowds to rob accident victims if they are unconscious or dead. It is so difficult for me to fathom this behavior but I also come from a culture that learns first aid and "steps in case of emergency" from a very young age, I also, incidentally, come from a family of lifeguards and EMTs. The communal "it takes a village" mentality rules over much of Ugandan and Senegalese society but is oddly absent at other times. I'm still trying to figure out which is which.

As we left the man in the hands of the doctors at Mulago Hospital, I wrote down my phone number for him, trying to be a good samaritan. In two days I was called and told to come to a specific market to pay for the crutches he was having made and a few weeks after that I was sent messages and called to deposit money in a bank account because he was "in crisis." I didn't buy him crutches nor did I deposit money in the strange bank account.

Expatriate Life

Expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat): a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence. The word comes from the Latin ex (out of) and patria (country, fatherland).

When I was in the Peace Corps we had mixed emotions about expats. We envied them because they often live in very nice houses with AC, have salaries that far more than cover living expenses in a developing country and have access to all the luxuries that the capital city and the diplomatic pouch have to offer. We also often thought them out of touch with the real needs of host-country communities and sometimes, when they were in touch with those needs, big bureaucratic NGOs (non-governmental organizations) and other aid organizations often have big, expensive projects that don't help in a sustainable way. This gets into the whole debate on aid which I'll avoid this time around. Anyway, I find myself now living as an expat.

While my salary is modest and in my opinion AC isn't necessary here, I rarely leave Kampala. I've only visited a couple villages and I find myself partaking of the Kampala luxuries (restaurants, bars, salons) quite often. Each time I encounter a Peace Corps Volunteer here I wonder if I have become one of those out-of-touch expats.

I believe in the company I am working for and I think that it already has and will continue to create sustainable development but I still do wonder if there's something out there, a cultural glitch in the plan, just waiting to pop up and make things impossible. I am often the one in our office who brings up the place of culture and cross-cultural communication in what we're doing but I am no expert in Ugandan culture of styles of communication. I usually turn to one of our Ugandan colleagues and ask them, hoping I know the right questions to ask, but when I think about it, my Ugandan colleagues really belong to almost a separate culture from that of our target market; as in any society, an urban, middle-class citizen doesn't have a lot in common with the poor, rural citizen. Do any of us know the right questions to ask while developing a project to make that project as successful as possible?

Another part of expat life in a developing country is living in great comfort and relative luxury while many of those around me are impoverished live in squalor. Kampala is not as segregated as some other cities in the region, many neighborhoods, including mine, have large colonial era houses in close proximity to slums. This poverty is why I am here but I feel so ambivalent about it. I see people living below the poverty line so often that most of the time it doesn't even phase me, but then, occasionally it'll push its way through my desensitization and hits me in the gut.

Some of the things that get to me: The small children, as young as toddlers, who beg amongst the traffic-laden streets at the insistence of their mothers; The children who live down the hill from me who fetch water all day, instead of going to school, from a small stream that happens to be right across the street from a nice private school; The hawkers around town who carry loads of merchandise around, trying to sell it and razor-thin margins, maybe end up making about $2 per day; The man who is wearing his Sunday best suit that is 5 sizes too big.

Interwebs in Africa

A friend recently wrote to me asking about internet access here in Uganda, specifically in more rural areas. I thought that it might be something that others are interested in so here is my response to him:

Our business is running on the fact that the national electricity provider only has 300,000 customers in a country of 30+ million people. At least 90% of the population is living off the grid so this pretty much makes internet impossible for now since something has to power the computers. So far there isn't a great option for running them on solar but we're working on it.

In the towns that are connected to the grid there are usually internet cafes that I imagine use dial-up so slow you wouldn't even recognize it as the internet ;) Also some of my friends in Kampala have little modems for their laptops, put out by cell phone service providers, about the size of business cards, that are supposed to connect them to the internet where ever there is cell coverage for that particular company. There is a satellite company here but I'm not sure exactly how it works. In any case, internet is quite expensive, that little modem is about $150 for the modem itself then about $65/month.

The big news for geeks here is that the "cable" is going to "hit the continent" any day now. Meaning that fiber-optic cables are being extended from somewhere in the middle-east to the Kenyan coast. This is supposed to speed things up a lot and decrease the price maybe but no one seems to know exactly what will happen when it lands - the feeling is akin to that leading up to Y2K, except that it can really only get better.

My friend Jon has a very popular blog about technology in Africa that you might be interested in, he's recently been recognized for his efforts by some pretty big players like Google. http://appfrica.net/blog/

Keeping Time

I just had a meeting canceled on me because I was running 10-15 minutes late, this is actually early for African meeting standards, at least from my experience, but the meeting was with an American who apparently hasn't adjusted to life here. With meeting times, if we muzungus don't adapt to the idea that meetings will always start between 15 min and 1.5 hrs late, we won't last very long here without some sort of break down.

For those of you who may be visiting for work, or are new to this idea, here are some tips:

1. Bring something to work on - this way you won't get too enraged/worried about the work that you're not doing back at the office.

2. Bring something to read - I caught on to this one in the Peace Corps when I didn't have a laptop to haul around with me, incidentally it was the two most literary years of my entire life.

3. Show up late - I haven't really adjusted to this one, as it seems to perpetuate the whole problem. But then again, as per the story above, I guess I have kind of adjusted... I've heard stories about government officials purposely showing up an hour late to big meetings because they know it won't start until then. Then again, the Prime Minister here just shows up on time and berates the diplomats and government officials who show up even 5 minutes late.

4. Schedule the meeting for an hour earlier than you need it to start - This one works well if the meeting is at your place of work or where you'll be anyway