(Written on Aug 19) I have spent a little over a week in Mubende now, and I am about one fourth of the way done with my time here in Uganda. But today I’m returning to Sembabule. An interesting tidbit for you, it turns out that the Central Region has a HIV prevalence of 9%, which is known to be the highest in Uganda. The coverage of services to PHA and OVC is low in the districts my organization is working in, thus the organization is working with the community to address these gaps in services.
Staying at the regional office has been nice, since there’s an actual house to live in, running water, toilets, and an inverter, which means even if the power goes, we still have power at the office. If only we had an inverter in Sembabule! The internet connection is also ten times better here in Mubende than Sembabule, since it’s a bigger town. The organization I am working at has been experiencing a high volume of staff turnover, and tomorrow the new program manager for the Central Region will be arriving to start working in Mubende. It’s very exciting for everyone at the office, especially since it will alleviate some of the workload my supervisors (one in Mubende, one in Sembabule) have been experiencing. This week I’ve been training the F/CBOs in Mubende to use M&E tools. It’s not too glamorous but is an important aspect of compliance for the funding the organization receives.
My favorite meal in Mubende is definitely chips and eggs, which is strangely only served at dinnertime. (Chips = French fries, for those of you don’t know) I always go to the same restaurant that is down the hill from the office, and now when I walk in, they know exactly what I’ll be ordering for dinner. I’m pretty sure I’m one of the only people who orders this meal, considering that I’m a mzungu, I think that’s acceptable. After I return to Sembabule, no more chips and eggs for dinner! I’ll have to start cooking for myself again…
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Lake Bunyonyi Weekend
I was able to spend the weekend in Southwestern Uganda, specifically at Lake Bunyonyi. Bunyonyi means "the place of many little birds" and is almost 2000 meters above sea level. No one seems to know exactly how deep it is. My favorite aspect of this lake is that it is only one of the few lakes in Eastern Africa that is schistosomiasis free! Which translates into: the water was safe to swim in. If Lake Bunyonyi is not schisto-free... too late now and hello Praziquantal!
My friends and I took the overnight bus from Kampala to Kabale (not to be mixed up with Kibale which is a completely different town). It gets pretty cold at night and none of us packed accordingly. Consequently the bus ride was rather cold as we climbed to higher altitudes, and the bus windows next to me continuously rattled open ever 10 meters or so. Needless to say, we didn't get very much sleep during our 8 hour bus ride, which included mysterious stops in the dark and strange sounds coming from our bus. We sleepily arrived in Kabale around 7am and managed to secure a driver who drove us to the dock of Lake Bunyonyi. From this dock, we then got into a dug-out canoe, hoped we didn't capsize, and rowed to the island where we would be spending the weekend. Rowing a dug-out canoe is much harder than one would assume, but we safely arrived at Itambira Island.
We stayed at Byoona Amagara Island Retreat this weekend, which is a not-for-profit establishment which supports education and sustainable community development at Lake Bunyonyi. They have GeoDomes you can stay in, which were beautiful. But we opted for the cheaper dorm stay. Upon arrival, we indulged in breakfast and then napped for the better part of the afternoon. We were exhausted from all the traveling. The rest of the day was just spent relaxing and enjoying the view.
Jumper = Hoodie
 |
| Sunset over Lake Bunyonyi |
 |
| Our dug-out canoe |
The food was fantastic; if you ever go there, I recommend the Crayfish Avocado Meal for dinner. I had one friend order it for breakfast on Sunday because he insisted on having it one more time; it's that good. The rest of the weekend was spent hiking around the island, enjoying the fresh air, sun, and clean water, and in the company of friends. Over the weekend, I spent quality time with many British girls and was able to learn many new vocabulary words, including:
Jumper = Hoodie
He's fit = He's hot (the Brits never describe someone as cute, I'm told)
It was an amazing and relaxing weekend away from dust, pollution, noise, and motor vehicles. I really didn't want to leave this little paradise, but hopefully someday I'll be able to visit again.
 |
| On our hike around Itambira Island (The island behind us is Bwama Island which was formerly a leprosy colony but now is the location of a school) |
Mosquito bites from the island = 0Total bites to date = 19 (I'm losing track)I do have one very strange bite on my arm. Not from a mosquito. It makes me think of the girl from my Uganda trip 2 years ago we had a bump on her arm, which turned out to have a maggot-like thing inside of it. Sure hope that's not what mine is!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Off to Mubende
The Ugandan countryside never ceases to take my breath away. It's amazing and beautiful. It's something I highly recommend that you see for yourself and then you'll know what I mean. AND you just have to learn to ignore the terrible roads that give you fantastic ab and butt workouts and that are for stomachs of steel.
Today I traveled to Mubende (District and town), where our regional office is. I will be here for a few days, training people to do data entry in order to help with the monitoring and evaluation of different programs the organization has going. It's a much bigger town than Sembabule; it was one of the original Ugandan Districts before they created new district lines. I'm staying at the office and I am delighted to announce I have running water, a porcelain toilet that flushes, AND a fridge. It's only for a few days, but hey, I'll take what I can get.
Today I traveled to Mubende (District and town), where our regional office is. I will be here for a few days, training people to do data entry in order to help with the monitoring and evaluation of different programs the organization has going. It's a much bigger town than Sembabule; it was one of the original Ugandan Districts before they created new district lines. I'm staying at the office and I am delighted to announce I have running water, a porcelain toilet that flushes, AND a fridge. It's only for a few days, but hey, I'll take what I can get.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Bugs, Bugs Everywhere
I don't think I was ever the child who had a mad fascination with insects and I have never developed a true love of them. I find them either annoying or just terrifying (depending on size and bite lethality). And when at home, I usually scream like a little girl for my dad (or even my mom) to kill whatever bug I find. Well, my dad nor my mom is with me here...
Last night, I was happily eating my ramen for dinner when a small fly stupidly landed in my noodles. Normally I think I would have been disgusted and might not have continued eating. But since I'm here, I love my ramen, and there was no way I was going to make anything else for dinner, I drowned the fly with my fork, flicked it to the side of my pot, and proceeded eating. I did make sure, however, I didn't accidentally eat the fly.
When I lay in bed, I stare up at Fred, Murphy, and Sylvia in the corner of the ceiling (spiders). There's also Jack, the extra large spider, who hangs out above my door. Now, if these spiders were doing their jobs, they would be killing all the bugs that fly into my room for me. Instead, I spend at least half the night, running around my room like a crazy person and squashing as many mosquitoes and small flies as I can. Hey it's entertaining!
What isn't entertaining is laying awake and hearing a creepy rustling noise coming from the bag where you left your one onion to cook with the next day. It's extremely unsettling when you know you haven't opened your door for hours and there is definitely something crawling inside the plastic bag over in the corner of your room, where you were pretty sure the last time you checked there was only an onion in the bag. So in true, terrified girl fashion, I grabbed the chopsticks I brought with me, opened my door, hooked the bag on the chopsticks, and swung it out the door with an "ahhhhhh! ew ew ew!". Then I watched these large juicy cockroaches crawl out of the bag. That resulted with an "AHHHHHH!" and the slamming of my door. I decided I'd just leave the bag outside and deal with it when it was light out (when hopefully the cockroaches had left). Needless to say, I had the heebie jeebies for the rest of the night and I tucked my mosquito net in extra well.
**Update to my story** The guard found my bag this morning before I woke up and I guess he just threw it away. I tried to explain that there had been cockroaches in the bag and I was sorry he had to throw it away for me. I was going to take care of it when I woke up. I'm pretty sure he just stood there and thought: She's crazy. Plus if he'd heard me freaking out at my bag or if he'd heard me when I was dealing with Bob, he'd already know of my craziness.
Mosquito Bite Count To Date: 16
Last night, I was happily eating my ramen for dinner when a small fly stupidly landed in my noodles. Normally I think I would have been disgusted and might not have continued eating. But since I'm here, I love my ramen, and there was no way I was going to make anything else for dinner, I drowned the fly with my fork, flicked it to the side of my pot, and proceeded eating. I did make sure, however, I didn't accidentally eat the fly.
When I lay in bed, I stare up at Fred, Murphy, and Sylvia in the corner of the ceiling (spiders). There's also Jack, the extra large spider, who hangs out above my door. Now, if these spiders were doing their jobs, they would be killing all the bugs that fly into my room for me. Instead, I spend at least half the night, running around my room like a crazy person and squashing as many mosquitoes and small flies as I can. Hey it's entertaining!
What isn't entertaining is laying awake and hearing a creepy rustling noise coming from the bag where you left your one onion to cook with the next day. It's extremely unsettling when you know you haven't opened your door for hours and there is definitely something crawling inside the plastic bag over in the corner of your room, where you were pretty sure the last time you checked there was only an onion in the bag. So in true, terrified girl fashion, I grabbed the chopsticks I brought with me, opened my door, hooked the bag on the chopsticks, and swung it out the door with an "ahhhhhh! ew ew ew!". Then I watched these large juicy cockroaches crawl out of the bag. That resulted with an "AHHHHHH!" and the slamming of my door. I decided I'd just leave the bag outside and deal with it when it was light out (when hopefully the cockroaches had left). Needless to say, I had the heebie jeebies for the rest of the night and I tucked my mosquito net in extra well.
**Update to my story** The guard found my bag this morning before I woke up and I guess he just threw it away. I tried to explain that there had been cockroaches in the bag and I was sorry he had to throw it away for me. I was going to take care of it when I woke up. I'm pretty sure he just stood there and thought: She's crazy. Plus if he'd heard me freaking out at my bag or if he'd heard me when I was dealing with Bob, he'd already know of my craziness.
Mosquito Bite Count To Date: 16
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Electricity, Mosquitoes & Music in Sembabule
We didn’t have power for much of Tuesday, which proved to be a blessing. I walked outside at one point to use the bathroom and look up at the sky. It took my breath away. The sky was so clear, and I could see hundreds of stars up in the sky. It was so unpolluted since there was no electricity and no big city close by. Utterly amazing. I have never seen anything like it. This is one reason why being outside a big city is such a refreshing experience. You would never see stars like those in Kampala or when the electricity is working.
Total mosquito bite count to date: 15
Total mosquito killed by my hand: 2
Times I’ve had malaria: 0
If I could put a numerical value to the itchiness of my mosquito bites, it'd be around the one billion value. My legs look more like I'm growing red tumors every day. One of those dead mosquitoes is a new stain on my wall since I managed to kill it after it had bitten me. It may have bitten me, but I still had the guilty pleasure of crushing the life out of it. There is still at least one mosquito escaping death around my room. I spent much of last night trying to hunt it down, but as of right now, it is still alive. I truly despise mosquitoes.
There is a store across from our office that blasts African music almost every single day. So while I'm working, I get a constant supply of upbeat music to jam out to. It's never bothersome, unless I'm trying to talk to someone and then it can prove to be challenging to hear what the other person is saying.
Yesterday, after work, I took a walk with one of my coworkers around the town where I live. Sembabule is the name of the district I am living in AND it is the name of the "chief town" or town council, as they call it here. The district headquarters is located about a kilometer from our office. To give you some perspective on where I live, Sembabule is a relatively new district. It was carved out of the neighboring district, Masaka District (where Masaka the main town is) in 1997. So Sembabule District is bordered by Mubende District to the north (where the regional office for my organization is), Mpigi District to the east, Masaka District to the east and the south, Lyantonde District to the southwest, and Kiruhura District to the west. My district is considered fairly rural, which receives relatively little rain and has long dry spells- accounting for the large amount of dust. It is estimated that the town Sembabule has a population of about 4000-5000. I can walk around the area where most people live completely in under an hour. The people in Sembabule are mostly either Buganda or Banyankole (though I've heard there are a few Rwandese and some other ethnic groups mixed in). Which made for some confusion on my part when I first arrived because sometimes I see Sembabule spelled as Sembabule and other times as Ssembabule. I have been taught that the Buganda would spell it with a double s, whereas the Banyankole will spell it with a single s. I decided to follow Wikipedia and spell it with one, but I'm not even sure if that's correct (it's Wikipedia, so it must be correct, right?!).
After my walk, I went to the "hangout" spot my coworker always goes to, the salon her friend owns. Her friend then spent some time playing with my mzungu hair, admiring its straightness, and complaining that I shouldn't have cut it before I came to Uganda. I was told I should grow my hair out again, come back to Uganda, cut it off, and donate it to the salon, so they can use my hair for weaves. I found that amusing.
Total mosquito bite count to date: 15
Total mosquito killed by my hand: 2
Times I’ve had malaria: 0
If I could put a numerical value to the itchiness of my mosquito bites, it'd be around the one billion value. My legs look more like I'm growing red tumors every day. One of those dead mosquitoes is a new stain on my wall since I managed to kill it after it had bitten me. It may have bitten me, but I still had the guilty pleasure of crushing the life out of it. There is still at least one mosquito escaping death around my room. I spent much of last night trying to hunt it down, but as of right now, it is still alive. I truly despise mosquitoes.
There is a store across from our office that blasts African music almost every single day. So while I'm working, I get a constant supply of upbeat music to jam out to. It's never bothersome, unless I'm trying to talk to someone and then it can prove to be challenging to hear what the other person is saying.
Yesterday, after work, I took a walk with one of my coworkers around the town where I live. Sembabule is the name of the district I am living in AND it is the name of the "chief town" or town council, as they call it here. The district headquarters is located about a kilometer from our office. To give you some perspective on where I live, Sembabule is a relatively new district. It was carved out of the neighboring district, Masaka District (where Masaka the main town is) in 1997. So Sembabule District is bordered by Mubende District to the north (where the regional office for my organization is), Mpigi District to the east, Masaka District to the east and the south, Lyantonde District to the southwest, and Kiruhura District to the west. My district is considered fairly rural, which receives relatively little rain and has long dry spells- accounting for the large amount of dust. It is estimated that the town Sembabule has a population of about 4000-5000. I can walk around the area where most people live completely in under an hour. The people in Sembabule are mostly either Buganda or Banyankole (though I've heard there are a few Rwandese and some other ethnic groups mixed in). Which made for some confusion on my part when I first arrived because sometimes I see Sembabule spelled as Sembabule and other times as Ssembabule. I have been taught that the Buganda would spell it with a double s, whereas the Banyankole will spell it with a single s. I decided to follow Wikipedia and spell it with one, but I'm not even sure if that's correct (it's Wikipedia, so it must be correct, right?!).
After my walk, I went to the "hangout" spot my coworker always goes to, the salon her friend owns. Her friend then spent some time playing with my mzungu hair, admiring its straightness, and complaining that I shouldn't have cut it before I came to Uganda. I was told I should grow my hair out again, come back to Uganda, cut it off, and donate it to the salon, so they can use my hair for weaves. I found that amusing.
Monday, August 2, 2010
No Gas Stove Necessary
Fresh avocado, tomato and onion salad with a dash of salt!
My dinner tonight plus a side of chapati. Love the freshness of the avocado here!!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A Weekend in Kampala
The weekend started with my first official TIA (This is Africa) moment. Imagine: The back seat of a small compact car filled from left to right: me, a grandma, two very generously sized women, a mom, an 8 year old, and a baby. Then in the front: two men squeezed together in the driver's seat. The trunk was filled with at least 100 pounds of stuff and one live chicken. This was how I traveled from Sembabule to Masaka. There is no direct route from Sembabule to Kampala, so you have to go to a largest trade town in the area, Masaka, and then travel from Masaka to Kampala. I spent several hours crushed against the left door, hoping we wouldn't get into an accident, wondering why we kept stopping, pitying the chicken who was squaking away in the trunk, and making sure I kept breathing, due to a combination of feeling crushed, closed windows, and no air circulation). It was definitely an adventure and made me really realize I am now in Africa.
After reaching Masaka (which involved stopping and starting the car every 5 minutes for an hour for reasons unknown to my Luganda-deficient ears), I hopped into a special hire van and off we rolled to Kampala. About half way there, we hit a giant speed hump that I didn't see coming (since I was sitting in the back, am short, and thus visually challenged in the back). I flew up, hit my head on the ceiling/window, bounced back down, hit my tail bone on the seat belt buckle, bounced back up, and finally stopped bouncing. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the ride rubbing my head, not being able to feel my behind, and hanging on for dear life. One exciting thing about the Masaka to Kampala drive, I finally got to see the marker from the Equator.
I arrived safely in Kampala and met up with a girl from the Netherlands, who had gotten my number from one of the people I went to Entebbe with. We got dinner at an Indian restaurant: Haandi. I highly recommend it- the food was amazing.
On Saturday, some girls and I went to a pool. It ended up being 3 Americans (none of which were Caucasian), a Dutch, and a Brit. We relaxed, got some sun, and chatted. Then we were invited to play volleyball with a few American military guys. They were really friendly and nice, and we spent the afternoon narrowly missing smashing people in the face with the ball. After the sunset and we left the pool, a few of the girls made dinner at their apartment. Our night ended with a trip to an "Irish" pub, Bubbles O'Leary, where we met up with the military guys again (plus one military girl). It was an exciting evening of dodging certain persistent men, music, and lots of dancing.
This morning involved a quick trip to Garden City to pick up a new book to read, since I found out the larger bookstore I wanted to go to wasn't open on Sundays. It's called Wuhu Diary and is about an American who adopted a little Chinese girl. Then she brought her five year old daughter back to Wuhu, China, where she was adopted from. The book is about their experience in China. My trip back to Sembabule was a little smoother, but did involve a cramped bus ride on the Masaka Coaster (a bus that goes straight from Kampala to Masaka) and stuffing 5 average sized people in the back of a car for only about half an hour. I had a great time this weekend, which is in many thanks to my coworker who helped navigate me to and from Kampala and the girls I had the privilege of hanging out with.
After reaching Masaka (which involved stopping and starting the car every 5 minutes for an hour for reasons unknown to my Luganda-deficient ears), I hopped into a special hire van and off we rolled to Kampala. About half way there, we hit a giant speed hump that I didn't see coming (since I was sitting in the back, am short, and thus visually challenged in the back). I flew up, hit my head on the ceiling/window, bounced back down, hit my tail bone on the seat belt buckle, bounced back up, and finally stopped bouncing. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the ride rubbing my head, not being able to feel my behind, and hanging on for dear life. One exciting thing about the Masaka to Kampala drive, I finally got to see the marker from the Equator.
I arrived safely in Kampala and met up with a girl from the Netherlands, who had gotten my number from one of the people I went to Entebbe with. We got dinner at an Indian restaurant: Haandi. I highly recommend it- the food was amazing.
On Saturday, some girls and I went to a pool. It ended up being 3 Americans (none of which were Caucasian), a Dutch, and a Brit. We relaxed, got some sun, and chatted. Then we were invited to play volleyball with a few American military guys. They were really friendly and nice, and we spent the afternoon narrowly missing smashing people in the face with the ball. After the sunset and we left the pool, a few of the girls made dinner at their apartment. Our night ended with a trip to an "Irish" pub, Bubbles O'Leary, where we met up with the military guys again (plus one military girl). It was an exciting evening of dodging certain persistent men, music, and lots of dancing.
This morning involved a quick trip to Garden City to pick up a new book to read, since I found out the larger bookstore I wanted to go to wasn't open on Sundays. It's called Wuhu Diary and is about an American who adopted a little Chinese girl. Then she brought her five year old daughter back to Wuhu, China, where she was adopted from. The book is about their experience in China. My trip back to Sembabule was a little smoother, but did involve a cramped bus ride on the Masaka Coaster (a bus that goes straight from Kampala to Masaka) and stuffing 5 average sized people in the back of a car for only about half an hour. I had a great time this weekend, which is in many thanks to my coworker who helped navigate me to and from Kampala and the girls I had the privilege of hanging out with.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)