It cracks me up how as I repeatedly find myself explaining in conversation that my research group left already and I’m here for a few days until heading out, how many people say, “you must be so bored!” what a shame that locals see their town as so boring! I’ve actually been really enjoying myself the past few days. Maybe the most I have since I’ve been here this trip. Maybe.
Saturday I worked a bit in the morning, ran some errands in town (water, internet, fabric drop-off), and then headed off to Kampala. I will admit I got really lucky; usually the fast talking, pushy conductor just shoves you in the van, but this time the driver was looming around and his aged friendly eyes caught my searching ones. I told him I needed to get to Uganda house on Kampala road and he sat me in the front seat next to him and an hour and a half later remembered exactly where I needed to hop out, which is the part I was worried about. My life is too easy, I know. I found the bookstore I needed just up the road and grabbed the Lonely Planet Morocco travel guide I’ve been eyeing thirstily for about a week. After an intense boda bartering session (no I will not pay you 3,000 shillings for a 500 shilling ride across town!) I met up with Mum at her shop, where I was shown the entire warehouse, introduced to everyone and their uncle, given a cushy seat, hot samosas, an ice cold Coke, and promptly ordered to count the number of bags of rice that were carried through the door. My life is too easy, I know. Mum drove me home, speaking to me only in Lugandan (she insists I won’t learn the language any other way, which is sort of true, I don’t always know exactly what she’s saying in a transliteral sense, but usually get the point). We stopped by the market on the way back and then let me cook dinner under her supervision all the while discussing her life and her thoughts on some current events in Uganda.
Ok, that was long. Sunday will be more to the point. I got home from church to find Doreen, Mum’s daughter, home and promptly was begged to come with her to visit Patrick (Mum’s oldest son) and his new baby in Ntinda. So, I tossed my scriptures on the bed and headed off with her for the taxi. We caught up on life on the way; she’s still brazenly independent and completely smitten with the idea of going to the US or UK. She really is very American in a lot of respects, talking with her is a lot like talking with my friends back home. We arrived at Patrick’s house, which is pretty nice, I would totally be ok living there. Patrick lives there with his girlfriend of 6 years, Marianne, who just had their first baby not even a month ago (and he is SOOOO precious!). Marianne’s twin sister, Becky, lives there as well along with Mum’s third born, Keith.
It was REALLY interesting to get a glimpse into the lives of 20 something up and coming Ugandans. There is a huge TV with a sweet stereo system in the living room, and all the bedrooms also have TV’s. Keith has the same laptop I do, which they all share via their “flashes” (jump-drives) that have more storage space than mine does. The kitchen has gas tanks instead of outdoor charcoal ovens. Becky’s floor was strewn with at least a dozen pairs of enviously stylish heels, her closet filled to the brim with pretty summer dresses, skinny leg jeans, leggings, and tank tops. As we gabbed about hair, babies, Kenya, and clubbing on her black and white flowered bed, I noted a ton of jewelry next to near empty bottles of Smirnoff and So Co. Was I really still in Uganda? It definitely put a contrast to the more traditional life at Mum’s house, just a generation older, where clothes are still washed by hand, house girls are a must, food is cooked outside, and the décor and clothing is noticeably less modern. Uganda is changing fast.
The thematic juxtaposition between traditional and modern continued when I found Drake, Mum’s 4th and final child who is still in secondary school (US 11th grade), at the gate upon my return (ouy…bad taxi ride home, long story, apparently something about merely sitting next to a muzungu was ROARING hilarious for the two girls on my bench) who waltzed into my room, invited himself to a seat and declared he was “hanging out.” He proceeded to tell me all about what’s “so fly” and what’s not so fly among kids his age, his escapades at the rugby club, how bored he gets during the weekdays, and the clubs and parties he goes to on the weekend. He has a best friend that’s a girl but he doesn’t want to date her for fear of losing the friendship, and admits it’s nice having her around because where she is, other girls will be, and what can you except, he’s young and free, can’t be tied down, and loves the ladies. He knows he’ll have to get more serious in a couple years, but right now, he’s joyous aware of his ability to “play.”
Mmmk, grr, another really long post that everyone is just going to skim over, assuming anyone is actually looking at this. Oh well!
No comments:
Post a Comment