Holiday Letter from Amber

Happy New Year! This is Amber here. I thought I would write a quick holiday letter on Dean’s blog, since I have neglected writing my own. Anyhow, I will give a brief rundown of 2008’s travels and new developments in our life. This year, we went to Boston for a conference in March. It was nice to see the city and fun to have Dean come along. We visited a brewery, went to a market, ate Italian food and visited Harvard’s campus for a nap in the sun. We also wanted to see a lot of family across the country before heading to Uganda. So, we went to Dallas for my 31st birthday to celebrate with my grandmother, who turned 91. She stole the show! We also went to South Carolina to see Dean’s sister, Kelly, her husband and their son, Derek. It was a great visit. We went to Charleston and took a carriage ride, we drank a beer from the oldest brewery in the United States, and we spent some quality time just catching up. In July, we also went to Sweden for Cissi’s 30th birthday. It was so great to take Dean to Sweden, since it is a very special place for me and holds a unique spot in my heart. Cissi had a huge party in a tent overlooking the lake, where her family owns several ‘stugas’ or cottages. Truly amazing…and the sun dipped below the horizon for about 2 hours, then was up again! We stayed up all night and Dean played guitar for everyone. We also visited Uppsala to see the oldest university in Sweden and visit the garden of the fella who invented the two part naming system for plants. Then, we headed to a wedding of a friend of mine in Missoula. It turns out that the woman he married is a dear friend to my dear friend’s sister! So, I got to see Kristen Malone and surprise her in Missoula. And then we headed to Uganda in September and October…..We have also done a bit of moving around here, the capitol, to Rwanda, Queen Elizabeth National Park and to Lake Bunyonyi. This year I also experienced two firsts: I flew a Cessna airplane for the first time and I dug clams and oysters for the first time. Both were invigorating. I recommend both! But, as I reflect on this year, I am thinking primarily of all the support and love from friends and family that make our lives possible and bring magic and joy to us. We would not be living this dream in Uganda if it were not for each one of you being there along the way. A lot of people really pulled together for fundraising during our last months in Seattle. People also came together to wish us well and to let us know they are behind us. And, we think about your contribution to this stage in our life every day. Happy New Year!!! We love you!

Bzzzzzzzzzz

For the first time since 1993 I paid for a haircut for myself. I’ve been a DIY haircutter ever since I moved out on my own. My last haircut was from my Mom’s friend Forrest’s salon in Pioneer Square and it was just before I graduated from art school (I wonder what happened to that guy?). I’ve gone through 2 electric clippers since then. I decided not to bring them to Africa just for a change. They didn’t seem to be nervous about cutting muzungu hair so I wasn’t nervous either. I sat down in the barber’s chair and said “make it all one length please”. The barber pulled his clippers out of a contraption labeled “Super Afro Sanitizing Machine” and got to work. The people in the salon stared at me while Amber took photos. It wasn’t long before it was clear the guy wasn’t going to cut it all one length. I’m not sure what happened during the conversation when I said “make it all one length please” and the barber said “okay”, but he was clearly working on a fade. I’m not vain about my hair, a big reason why I always cut it myself, so I decided to be quiet and just see what happens. This guy was very into his work. He took a lot of care getting the fade just ever so smooth. He outlined my sideburns and hairline around my temples so they were clear and sharp. He sculpted a little poof front and center. And he gave me a flat top. Thanks, I think. Actually it’s not bad. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve had an actual “haircut”. Does this mean I need products? All in all I will go back to him. The only part that struck Amber and I wrong was at the end when going to pay they wanted to charge us 10,000Ush. The sign on the wall said “Haircut 3,000Ush”. Amber points to the sign “what do you mean?” They say that’s for black people’s hair. But muzungu hair costs 3 times the price? We offered 5,000Ush and left.

To all my friends!

Happy Solstice everyone! Amber and I gave each other the same Obama poster without knowing. Our Obama shrine is looking quite formidable. I hope you all are celebrating in your own special ways. I raise my glass of Ugandan whiskey and makea toast to our families and friends. Lets drink to our health and to a happy new year! We love you all!

I also want to bring attention to a new link on the right hand side of the page. Our friends Lynn and Danny, whom we live just a few doors down from and go on a lot of adventures together here, are avid bloggers. Check their page out for a different perspective on some of the same things we're seeing and doing here. You may even find a picture of Amber and I.

Cheers!

Beating around in the bush

On field days we get up at 6 a.m. to take our malaria pills with coffee or tea and pack lunch for the day. We pick up Judith, Amber’s research assistant, at 7 and drive some 40km to Rwamuhuku village, located in Kiruhura District in southwestern Uganda (see map). The goal for the day is for Judith to conduct 4 interviews and for Amber and I to provide support. Amber can't participate in the interviews because her presence is a distraction to the villagers and that has a negative effect on the data. It’s a gorgeous morning and I’m looking forward to the drive because, as I saw last time out, the pothole crew has filled in most of the holes from Biharwe to Sanga (most of the stretch of highway we drive).
The first interviewee has been chosen by Amber from the village roster we obtained from the Village Chairman and we already know the general direction they live in so as we drive into the village we stop to ask for a safe place to park the car and to find out where the trailhead to their house is. We come upon a gathering of 20-30 men, women, and children, all holding plastic jugs. They’re buying milk from a man selling it from the back of his bicycle. He pours the milk from a large jerican into a measuring cup and then into the customers jug. A green banana forms the stopper in the jug. Judith hops out to ask while all the kids surround the car to stare at Amber and I and play with my arm hair. It turns out the milkman is the son of our interview subject. We were planning on walking to his house but the milkman says we can drive there. It’s too difficult to describe the way though and he can’t show us the way because he’s got to sell milk right now. I look around at the crowd as they are looking at us. The whole milk selling operation has ceased because of the 2 muzungus in town. Judith is so good, though, at making things happen. She jumps in front of the line to help get it going again and pretty soon it is. She’s cracking jokes, making the crowd laugh, as she’s passing empty jugs to the milkman and handing full jugs back to their owners. I turn the car around to help break up the crowd and to get pointed in the right direction. It’s not long before Judith, the milkman, Amber and I are driving through the grass and heading to the milkman’s house.
45 minutes later and Judith is conducting an interview of a wealthy rancher. These interviews can take over an hour so Amber and I go for a walk. It’s not long before we come upon a group of kids playing football with a ball made of a wad of plastic bags wrapped in a net. I think these kids were supposed to be in school because as we walk by they stop their game and join us, all the while asking us to come to school with them. Something you’ll see often in Uganda is two men holding hands while walking down the street together. They are showing affection for one another, sure, but this doesn’t mean they’re a couple, or “practicing gayism” as our friend Medard put it., it’s about friendship. As we walked one boy grabbed my hand and one boy grabbed Amber’s. Ironically, the boy who grabbed Amber’s hand was teased for it not the other way around like you might expect. A variation on hand holding you might see here is one guy holding the wrist of another guy. I don’t know if there’s a difference in meaning. Anyway these kids were sweet so we did go with them to their school and meet the teacher. Someone asked the teacher why our skin was it’s color and the teacher replied “they are your sisters and brothers”. This was all in rough translation, by the way, our translator was busy doing the interview, right? English is taught in school here but out in the villages there aren’t many people who speak it fluently. We get a lot of “Muzungu! How are you?! I am fine!”
It’s now hours later and while Judith is off somewhere hunting down an interviewee Amber and I have parked the RAV4 under a shady tree. I read a lot, we talk a lot, write a lot, Amber works on transcribing the interviews, we take pictures, we get visited by villagers who want to exercise their English. A man named Patrick comes by wanting me to see his property in case I might want to buy it. We take a walk up this little hill that borders the national park. His property is right next to the main gate to the park so there is a constant flow of traffic. There’s a great view of the park, it’s lake and the surrounding hills. From the hillside he explains to me his idea of building a lodge here for people visiting the park. He shows me where the bushes could be cleared for a parking lot and a little store with cold beverages. He tells me how at sunset the waterbuck and hippos come out to feed and from this hill you could sit with binoculars and watch. He’s really thought this through. His only obstacles are money and, the way he put it, not knowing the ways of the whites. He means he doesn’t know what we would like to eat or how to prepare it. Anyone interested? I could hook you up with Patrick. It would be a shame to spoil this spot, though.
As the sun ducks behind the hills Judith comes marching up to the car. She’s done her 4 interviews for the day so we load up and head for home while she tells us all about the people she’s come across today.

Back Up A Few Weeks

11/12/08

This week has been busy. And it’s only Wednesday! I’ve been acting as driver for Amber and her 2 research assistants as they start the preliminary work on her project. The map we have of the area we are working in is deceiving to the eye. It looks like it’s not that far but we’ve driven over 320km in 2 days. My explanation for it is that the roads are much less straight than the map suggests. One road we took was, if you were to scale it off the map, about 40km long. But the cars’ odometer tells me we actually went 60km. I suggested earlier that perhaps the odometer is not that accurate but that was when it seemed that the total mileage of the car (or should I say kilometerage?) was much smaller than I would’ve expected for its age. I don’t know what to think now. Perhaps I’ll start thinking of distances in matter of time. That drive will take 30minutes or 1 hour, for instance. But that kind of knowledge only comes from experience. And what I experienced this week is that you have to take some roads much slower than others depending on how wet the ground is. Which brings me to another experience we’ve had this week.
The rainy season started a month or so ago but it’s only in the last week that I could describe it this way. Oh yeah, it has rained quite a bit since I’ve been here, but it’s raining almost every day now. And when it rains it’s a real deluge. With thunder and lightening! And I bless those rains down here in Africa too, Toto. The green beans I saw planted along the road the first couple days of being here are looking pretty ripe already. I’d sure like to be able to throw a couple seeds in the ground every now and then to keep a constant rotation of fresh veggies coming in. Uganda is rich in land, that ‘s for sure. It’s a mixture of sensation because while it is raining or getting ready to rain the feeling is much like October at home. But we still get some sunshine almost everyday and when the sun comes out it is like July.

On Tuesday we traveled to the village of Nyanga on the shore of Lake Kichira. The size of the lake felt roughly the same size and shape of Lake Washington in Seattle. It was very far from the highway and the road is not heavily traveled. I figure this is due to the fact that most people seemed to be doing fine living mainly off the land. Most homes had large pieces of land, several cattle, goats, chickens, sheep, and their own matoke plantations. It felt a little like Ireland at times what with all the lush greenness. Part of the drive took us into Lake Mburo National Park. Cruising through low lying grasslands full of wild animals like zebra, impala, bushbuck, warthog, and red-crested crane (the national bird). It was also very swampy and people had taken to driving wherever it was dry so they wouldn’t get stuck. This made it very difficult to know if we were heading in the right direction and if we were going to be able to find our way back. Luckily a young man on a boda was going our direction and he signaled for us to follow him. He became our guide and scout for the dry path. People here keep surprising me with their courtesy and helpfulness. They’re really pleasant, especially when you get out into the countryside. We ran into the village chairman on our way out to the village. He was on his way to a funeral but told us we could see the village secretary in his absence to get the information we need. He said the secretary is at home now and actually has all the information Amber is looking for. The secretary’s home is situated at the top of a boulder encrusted hill, overlooking the lake. It’s a gorgeous piece of land that he tells me is going to be for sale soon. I didn’t ask why. From the top of a smooth piece of granite I can see the neighbors with their cattle grazing, a group of monkeys eating in the trees behind me, two fisher eagles in a dead tree on the lakeshore, and a lone fisherman out on the lake in a dugout canoe. Yeah, I could live here.

Luckily, since we lost our guide, we were able to follow our tracks back through the field. I should’ve brought a compass, however, Amber did one better and brought a GPS unit. We will be back to this village many times so plotting our route will make the drive much easier next time. The rainy season should be over in a few weeks too and that will also help.

As you can see, and much to my excitement, there are photos for all to see and enjoy! I've added a few more below to an older post. Our internet connection has greatly improved. Hopefully it stays that way.

A Few Examples of Daily Life

11/21/08 On Mondays our apartment is cleaned by a young girl named Scovia. She cleans everyone’s apartment in our little complex. She also does our laundry. For this we give her between 10,000 – 15,000 depending on the amount of laundry. It’s a really good job especially for someone her age. While she cleans we need to be out of her way so Amber and I go to the university canteen for black tea and chapatti breakfast. The canteen is like a cafeteria/pub and it’s run by a popular gentleman named Benin. There is a television and sometimes we get a little news from BBC but usually it’s set on football (which means soccer of course). They are never ready for us so we wait for sometimes up to an hour for service. This is typical in Ugandan restaurants. I’m told the restaurant industry is less than ten years old here. They’re still figuring things out. After breakfast Amber goes to her office at the university and I go to town and do our shopping for the week.

The central market is a very cool place. Often I find myself just scanning the booths trying to inventory everything there is to offer. Who has the best tomatoes and peppers and which pineapple looks best? Some stalls are very organized and full and the produce is polished to an attractive sheen. Some stalls have very little to offer and their avocados or bananas may be a couple days past ripe. In one corner of the market you can buy live chickens. It stinks over there so I try to avoid it. In another corner there are two long buildings with wire screen windows like livestock barns at the country fair. One building is the fish market. There’s really only one fish in there, tilapia. Dried, fresh, whole or fillets. The other building is the meat market. I’ll never go in there, it’s disgusting. I can see raw cow parts sitting on a wooden bench that’s drenched in old blood and other bits hanging from hooks. At least they’re in the shade. I can’t imagine what the smell would be like in an outdoor meat market. There isn’t much opportunity to haggle for produce. The sellers have their goods portioned out into even numbered price groups. Besides, produce is really cheap. A giant head of cabbage for 1000ush (56 cents), 1kg (2.2 pounds) of potatoes for 500ush, a large pineapple for 2000ush, how can you feel good about yourself if you want to pay less? I get packaged items at a regular grocery store. There are many in Mbarara and they each have a slightly different selection. We get instant coffee in a small tin can. It’s not bad. Better than Maxwell house, much better. The spices are leaps and bounds better and cheaper. I think they must be fresher because after a few visits to one store you get a feel for what’s new and I’ve noticed they go through a lot of spices. The peanut butter is local and out of this world! So is the honey. The crackers and cookies we buy come from Iran. We buy a lot of tomato paste and pasta as well as rice and dried beans. Out of this we can eat Italian or Mexican or Asian meals. I’ve even made tortillas from corn flour grown locally. It would be easier with a tortilla press though. It took me an hour to make a dozen using a coffee mug as a rolling pin and a bowl as a cookie cutter but they came out pretty good.

The haggling comes into play when we’re buying services or things for the car. The roads are bad, as I’ve told you, and we’ve taken some pretty big potholes harder than I would’ve liked to, so today I had a stabilizer and some bushings replaced. I’ve got a regular mechanic already. I’m trying to develop a relationship with him so he doesn’t automatically double the price for a muzungu like me, a standard practice around here. His name is Abas and he looks to be about 22 – 25 years old. He and a friend worked on the RAV for about an hour and the bill came to 15,000ush for parts ($8.36) and 25,000ush for labor ($13.93). When I compute the exchange rate it sounds like a bargain but compared to what I hear other people paying for work coupled with the feeling that every price is doubled for a foreigner I try to haggle with him. It’s not the price it’s the principle. Just because I’m not from here doesn’t mean I should pay double, right? There are a lot of tricks to haggling and I have a lot to learn. One thing I try to do is always get a price up front, before any work has been done. Abas told me he would do the work for 15,000 before he started. I said okay but when he was done he added the 25,000 for labor. He said 15,000 was just for parts! I felt a little stuck since he had done the work already but I told him I would need his services again and I certainly would’ve paid more than 15,000 for what he did so I offered 20,000 more for the labor. He knows his way around a RAV4 and his work is good. Maybe someday I’ll feel like I’m getting a local price.

Being here has definitely made me more of a skeptic. I was going down a city street the other day and was stopped by a man saying I was going the wrong way down a one way. No big deal, there was plenty of room to turn around. But as I was turning around he came to my window and said I needed to pay him a fine before I go. Nice try but I think I’ll just go. He was just some dude on the street, not a cop. Shortly after this incident I found a parking place and headed into the market. On the way in I was approached by a man who had just come from a lighting store. They sell light bulbs exclusively. He tells me he noticed as I was parking that my brake lights weren’t working and I need new bulbs. “Really? I’ll get my mechanic to take a look at them. Thanks.” They were working just fine. Can you blame me for my skepticism? I think it’s saving me money.

The compound we live in is really comfortable. There is a group of about 12 of us that hang out regularly. We cook meals for each other or together. Sometimes we play cards. Sometimes we all go out for dinner. Sometimes we split up and do things as smaller groups. Most of us are American but there are some Brits, some Canadians, Cubans, a few Indians, a Kiwi, 2 Belgians and a Swiss. And there is a constant rotation of guests. Every few weeks we lose a couple and gain a couple more but it feels pretty balanced as far as personalities and interests go. Danny from Santa Barbara runs yoga sessions three times a week out on the lawn. Amber, Danny, and I are helping a local man put together an aid trip to the north of Uganda. There are people there that have lived in refugee camps their whole lives because of the civil war. The war is now over and the refugees are being asked to leave the camps and start their own lives but they have nothing. No possessions and no skills. They’ve been living on handouts, they don’t know how to get a job or how to plant crops or anything. Many of the muzungus living here are doctors and are working in the hospital at the university together. Some of them work for the U.N. and the Millennium Villages Project so they go out into the field for a week or two at a time. Everyone of them has an interesting story to tell every time we get together. This Thanksgiving about 8 of us will get together for a potluck feast. The Brits, affectionately calling it “Good Riddance Day”, are still willing to pig out with us even though it’s not their holiday. I’ll be making my vegetarian stuffing with homemade bread this year because the only bread sold in the stores here is the Ugandan equivalent of “Wonder Bread”. Amber is going to make a pumpkin pie from fresh pumpkin. I hope yours is enjoyable and ful-FILLING!

Just a few random facts and phrases I’ve learned……
1. The last time the highway was paved was back in the 60’s. No wonder it sucks!
2. That whole water spinning the opposite direction in the southern hemisphere thing is true. You can witness it for yourself at a café on the equator. And directly over the equator the water doesn’t spin it just goes straight down!
3. The town we’re living in (roughly the population of Bellingham) doesn’t have a mayor but they’re working on it. Also, there are no stop lights or stop signs.
4. It’s grasshopper season here. For the next few weeks you can buy fried grasshoppers, or live ones to fry yourself, in the markets and on the street. They’re legs have been amputated in case you’re worried they might get away.
5. There are a lot of bats hanging in trees around town. They only live in a certain type of tree. I think because the bark of this tree is easy to hold on to. A few days ago they all left. To where I’m not sure.
6. We experience regular blackouts. The power company can’t keep up with the demand of the country so it has to take from one area to satisfy another every few days. There are two dams on the Nile but only one is in operation.
7. The phone numbers have 10 digits and there are no zip codes anywhere in Uganda.

Fort Portal and Kibale National Park

November 6th

So much of my faith has been restored in America today! For the first time in my life we have a President I am excited about. I can’t believe it. It almost doesn’t seem real. Even the locals are excited about it. The front page of all the papers have headlines reading "OBAMA!". I was stopped in the market by an older man. He said "Where are you from? Who is your president? Is it Bush?" I replied "No sir, it's Obama." He pulled a poster from out of his jacket. It was a poster of Obama. He then put his arm around me, hugged me, kissed the back of my hand and said "He is one of us! I love you!" I guess if I'm going to be the center of attention in the middle of the town market then these are pretty good circumstances to be under. I could think of much worse things to have happen but still, I was embarrassed. Everyone there was laughing. Luckily I was done with my shopping so I saluted the man and said the only two things I know how to say in his language, "thank you, goodbye".

October 31st
Friday afternoon we pack the car and head north to visit our friends Steve and Sarah in Kibale National Park. Sarah is also a medical geography phd candidate at the University of Washington. She is doing research into diseases shared by humans and monkeys.
It’s a gorgeous day for a drive. Our destination is approximately 235 km away and, depending on the condition of the road, the drive should take us between 3.5 and 4.5hrs. Amber and I are excited to go to a new place and to try out the new car and to listen to the music mixes I made this week for the drive.

Just west of Mbarara and for the first 80km or so the landscape is mostly agricultural. Matoke fields, the staple crop for Ugandans, is a type of banana. I’ve grown to like it a lot and to be able to tell if it’s of good quality or not. The countryside is so lush and wet. The growing season is year round here and there isn’t any need to irrigate. Uganda is very fortunate to have Mother Nature looking after them so well. They haven’t had the famines like you hear about in Ethiopia and other countries. The sun is out but there is rain in the distance. Soon we go up and over a short mountain pass which reveals a tremendous view of the Great Rift Valley. This valley, created by some rather drastic plate tectonics, is an intersection of dry grasslands and swamp from the east and the Rwenzori Mountains on the western border of Uganda. This is also the valley the River Nile is flowing through. The grassland we are now in has been designated as Queen Elizabeth National Park. It is home to a lot of wildlife including elephants and antelope so we are hoping for a chance encounter. The scale of things is tremendous, reminding me of Wyoming from I-90 looking south to the Big Horn Mountains. We pass a sign depicting a head on collision of a bus with an elephant but this is as close as we get to seeing an elephant. I must tell you, because I’m rather shocked, that the road is by far the nicest road I’ve seen in Uganda. I was told it was recently rebuilt by the Chinese as an aid project I think, to prepare for a visit from Queen Elizabeth herself. In the end she never came but sent Prince Charles instead.
3hrs and 45 minutes later we arrive in the town of Fort Portal and meet Sarah and Steve and at a popular hotel for a post drive beer. There are many brands to pick from here but they all taste similar. Lagers and Pilsners go well with the climate and, even though there is no IPA, I’m happy to have something cold to sip. Our first night of the trip we stayed at The Rwenzori View Guest House. A lovely B&B style inn built by a brit named Maurice. Breakfast is simple and lovely, served around a large table and shared by all the guests. This encourages conversation of course, which is dominated by Maurice, but that is quite alright for he’s got some interesting insight on Uganda. He has been here for some 35 years and has in that time served on the city council. By his account the country is a rapidly changing place not only in landscape but in social aspects as well. The conversation predictably turns to the election in the U.S. You at home, believe me when I tell you that yes, the rest of the world is watching. Even in our small town in rural Uganda the newspaper headlines are all talking about Obama.

Saturday morning and Steve and Sarah have gone to town to do their shopping for the week. Their cabin is about 45 minutes outside of town down a dirt road and inside Kibale National Park so they only get to town about once a week. After a relaxing morning writing in our journals, Amber and I follow to pick them up and head to their cabin for the next night. Their lifestyle is much more rough than ours. I feel pretty lucky now to have a toilet to sit on and a bathtub that I fit in. They have a latrine, meaning nothing but a hole to squat over, and the hot water in the shower is solar heated so it takes a couple hours to heat five minutes worth of hot water. And that’s if the sun is out. They live in a rainforest and the big thing you have to watch out for there, other than the aggressive baboons, are mango flies. These flies land on wet clothing and leave their larvae which then hatch and burrow into your skin to develop into a fly. If you get one you have to cover it with nail polish to kill it and then, after a day or two, extract the dead larva (EEEWW!!). All laundry is left to dry under bug nets that are treated with insecticide and once it is dry it is then ironed for extra posterity. I never saw a mango fly and I never want to.

Kibale National Park is well known for monkeys and chimpanzees. A lot of people go there to research them and tourists go for guided tracking tours. Over the course of the next 24hrs we see probably fifty of them. Among them are Black and White Colobus, Red Colobus, Red-tailed, Blue monkeys, and Grey monkeys. If I ever manage to get pictures up you’ll see why they’re called blue monkeys. They are so fun to watch jump from limb to limb. Each species has their own style of climbing. Some are better than others.

The drive back was also glorious and we took a detour into Queen Elizabeth for lunch at a very posh lodge overlooking a lake. Jacana Safari Lodge is about 14km off the road but every bit worth the detour. I’m talking breaded fish served over sautéed vegetables and covered in a mustard sauce with rice pilaf like you don’t get in Mbarara. We will definitely be back here. The car performed beautifully, we had a great time and D.o.g. was happy to see that we didn’t leave him for good.

I’ve been here for a month now. It’s starting to feel natural and comfortable. I have only learned a couple of words in runyankole, the local language, but I am able to go to the market and do the shopping. We will be getting lessons soon. Amber has hired two research assistants and I’m sure we could ask one of them to teach us. Perhaps while we’re out in the field doing Amber’s research. They’re starting initial interviews next week and I will go with some of the time just for the chance to see more of the countryside. I’ve been spending a lot of the weekdays working on my writing and playing music. I’m very lucky!

Operation: Buy a Car

Let me preclude this story by saying that this mission would not have been completed without the enourmous help and connections of Charles Muchunguzi, Amber’s advisor at Mbarara University. So…
On Thursday, October 23rd I went with Charles to the capitol city of Kampala to procure a vehicle, mainly for use in Amber’s project, but also to give us a little freedom to go when and where we please. At 1 in the afternoon Charles and I walked down to the gas station to catch a bus. As you can imagine, the bus schedule here is very loose. You can wait for hours for a bus to show up and then wait for hours for the bus to fill up before it starts moving again. Charles happens to know the manager of the bus company in Mbarara so we got the inside information that a bus won’t be coming until 3 at the earliest. However, one of Charles’s friends just happened to be at the gas station getting her car serviced just before heading to Masaka, a town halfway between Mbarara and Kampala. Our likelihood of catching a bus there is much greater so we climbed in her car, with another woman and two children, and headed out amidst torrential downpours, thunder and lightening.
After a 45 minute wait for the bus to fill in Masaka (not bad) and being subjected to very bad music videos of Africans acting like gangsters and divas during the 3 hour bus ride, we arrive in a very dark, and very crazy, Kampala. There are so many people! And they’re all trying to sell you something! By candlelight! The bus depot can best be described as total chaos and, for that matter, so can the entire city. It’s 7 o’clock and we’re tired so Charles and I make a plan to meet at nine the next morning to go talk to his car dealer friend (another connection).
9 a.m. Turns out the dealership, I use this term loosely like the bus schedule, is very close to my hotel. So we tell them our criteria for a vehicle and one is presented to us immediately. It is a 1994 model of the popular Toyota Rav4 with 75,000 km on the odometer. Seems low to me but the engine looks to be in good shape so we take it for a test drive and to Charles’s mechanic (another friend) for a buyers check. Turns out when looking at the underside of the car it’s in pretty bad shape. Understandable when you consider the roads. Even in Kampala there are potholes so big that two lane roads are turned into one lane roads while everyone takes a turn at going around the grave size hole. They also have a practice of putting speed bumps the size of hippopotamus’s in the road where they want the traffic to utterly crawl. These are called “sleeping policemen” and a lot of cars bottom out on them so they have to take them at an angle which again turns a two lane road into a one lane road and all the while the boda-boda’s (that’s a scooter taxi) swerve around everyone and from every direction.
So the car needs about 1 million Ugandan shillings worth of work to the suspension and drive train. They’re asking 9 million, which is, of course, the inflated dealer price so I tell Charles I won’t buy it unless we get them down to 7.2 at least (the exchange rate is about 1600 shillings to 1 U.S. dollar, you do the math). No go. The lowest they go is 8.5 so we talk to a few more people there, look at a few options but there’s nothing that fits our criteria perfectly. Now, the way the dealership works is thus. We’re on a city block that is lined with parked cars from end to end. There are also three or four parking lots on one side completely stuffed to the gills with cars. Some being worked on, some being washed, some being parted out. They’re all for sale, however, certain cars are owned by certain people so if there’s one you like you have to find the owner of that car and they may or may not be there. Anyway, after about an hour of looking and waiting and talking and making phonecalls a car that fits our bill shows up. It’s also a 1994 Rav4 but in much better shape. He’s asking 9 but we, and by we I should say Charles, get him down to 8.8 million. We do the test drive and look underneath and it’s in great shape. I don’t think it’s been outside of Kampala much because the suspension is like new. All that’s left is the paperwork which, let me just say, takes a long time and requires more negotiating as to the wording of the bill of sale and when will the title be transferred, details that without Charles there to manage I would have been screwed. So at 5 o’clock that afternoon we sign on the agreement on the hood of the car and we’re rolling in Uganda! Now I’ve got to figure out how to drive in this city (they drive on the left here, most of the time) and where to park it. Luckily my hotel is not far.
7:30 a.m. Saturday I wake up with the intention of going straight home. A quick breakfast and I’m out the door, pretty sure of the general direction I’m heading. I’ll spare you the detailed account of the next 7 hours and just tell you I took a few wrong turns, headed out of town on the wrong road, realized this after 60km, ran dangerously low on funds for gas, had to find some friends who just happened to be in Kampala too, borrow some money from them, get a better map than the out of date piece of crap I had, get good directions, drive thru downtown for the 4th or 5th time to get to the road home. The 5 hour drive home towards the sunset was quite pleasant compared to the previous 7 hours stuck in traffic and going the wrong way. Yeah, the street sign system, and I doubt there is one, is pretty loose too. If there is a sign it could be the name of the street, the name of the neighborhood, or the name of the bus stop which is named for the business that was there at the time of putting up the sign. It’s not that they are so relaxed or don’t care about having an infrastructure. The leaders seem so wrapped up in their image or their status that a lot of the budget gets spent on things for them. The mayor of Kampala drives a Hummer. I wonder how many potholes could be fixed or street signs put up for the price of one of those. One of my problems that day was that my map, 2 years old, showed a roundabout that had been removed about a year and a half ago and turned into a four way intersection. The reason why was not revealed to me. It has been my experience that roundabouts always work better than four ways. And the President of Uganda, Museveni, just had his house on the lake completely remodeled by the Chinese. Meanwhile the people of Uganda suffer from many problems that, to our standards, seem unacceptable. And they pay about 30% of their income to taxes.

Landed Safely, thanks!

Whoa! Long trip. 2 nine hour flights with a 9 hour layover in Heathrow airport. I made it safely to Uganda just one day after independence day (their 46th). My first wildlife sighting was a lizard about 12” long. It was bright orange on the ends which faded to gray and then white and then charcoal around the belly. My second animal sighting was D.o.g. He seemed pretty shaken up but otherwise fine so we loaded him up and started a five hour drive to Kampala and then Mbarara, our final destination and hometown for the next year or so.
Keeping pets is not commonplace here so the fact that we brought ours is strange even to the other muzungas (foreigners). It’s also become apparent that D.o.g. hasn’t seen many black people in his life because he’s afraid of them. Skovia, our cleaning lady, came in the other day and D.o.g. greeted her with a curious “maow”. She was startled by this and jumped a little. This made D.o.g. skeptical of her so he hid under the couch. His fear though, is adding a sense of security to Amber and I. Our apartment is in the staff housing complex of the University of Science and Technology Mbarara (MUST). We’re fenced in and have a security guard posted at the gate. It seems really safe here so we’ve let D.o.g. out to smell the flowers and eat the grass, some of his favorite activities. Every time someone walks by he runs into the house so he doesn’t have much of a chance to go far. The birds come gather by and check him out. I think they’re trying to decide if he’s friend or foe.
Everything is new to me here. This place is completely different to what I’m used to. You drive on the left. At least you do when someone else is coming. You can’t just drink from the tap, you have to boil or filter your water, so cooking has to be done carefully so as not to cross contaminate. The birds eating out of the dumpster aren’t crows they’re 4 foot tall Maribou Storks! A bus is called a coach, a smaller bus is called a matatu or taxi, a taxi is called a special hire and most times you catch a boda boda which is a scooter you ride on the back of. The boda drivers are notoriously dangerous. They don’t stop for anything except a fare. I wake up at 5:30 a.m. to the muslim call to prayer coming from the mosque across town. Actually I think there are two mosques calling at the same time. The moon is tilted a little more to the left and there are a few different stars to keep it company. But most importantly I don’t have to scrabble off to work first thing. I have time to think. A luxury I haven’t had in some time. I expect some songs to come out of this time as well as some changes in my outlook on the world.
By the way, you may not have noticed but there is an opportunity here to leave me comments on my writing or to just say hello. Please do leave comments. I want to keep up with all my friends and family. Just know that any comments you leave can be read by all.

Gone Daddy, Gone! Gone to Uganda!

In less than a week I'll be unpacking in my new digs in Mbarara (look it up on Google Earth or Wikipedia).  My last few days have been totally full of moving out of the condo, running the cat to the vet and to the airport to get preapproval on his crate, closing bank accounts and wiring money, buying a few "can't do withouts", driving to Olympia to get the cats export paperwork signed by the USDA veterinarian, finishing the kayaks and a few other projects, moving out of the shop, etc. etc. etc.  It's a lot of work to take a complicated lifestyle apart and put it away let alone prepare for and move overseas.  My parents lived in Japan before I was born.  They had their dog shipped over after they got there so they could be there to pick it up.  But the dog came into the wrong airport and they had to take a taxi for several hours to get it.  That's just the kind of luck I have.  Something like that is going to happen to me I just know it (and as I write this Amber's voice comes in my head saying "it happens because you think it's going to happen" or something to the effect of).  I sure hope I get all the T's crossed.  The I's dotted too, don't forget the I's, Dean, it'll be really hard to dot the I's when you're in Uganda.  

I'm ready, though.  I'm ready for the next thing in my life.  For the next phase.  It's time to switch it up.  I keep hearing this talk about change, real change, and I guess it soaked in.  Amber has been there before so she knows what to expect.  I, however have no idea what it will be like.  No expectations.  I find that exciting.  Discovering the best place to get whatever it is we need.  The best combination of clothing to wear.  Which restaurant has the best food (i.e. won't give you traveler's diarrhea) .  Where can one find the coldest and cheapest Nile Special Lager.  What the locals like to do for fun.  What's important and what doesn't really matter in a meduim sized town in the middle of Africa.   And mostly I'm excited to see how this whole experience will affect and change me.  Yeah!! Uganda here I come from Seattle, USA!

So, Friends, here's where you'll find me for the next while.  Thanks for checking in and do come back again.  I'll have lots of spare time so i expect to keep the frog up to date.  Here's a few informative websites if you want to learn more about Uganda:

http://www.radiouganda.com/

http://newvision.co.ug/

http://www.africa.upenn.edu/Country_Specific/Uganda.html

I don't know much about these things but my friend Charlie says you can setup a deal with Google to send you an email every time I write a new entry.  How convenient.  That Google makes life so much easier and complicated at the same time.  I mean, how the heck do you set that up?  Where do you go to learn about that?  Ask Charlie I guess.

Feed the blog

Hi there.  Just checking in.  It's been a month since I set up this blog and I have yet to write a serious entry.  Not off to a strong start but I have an excuse.  There is a lot of details involved in moving your life to the other side of the planet.  Yeah, I'm still in Ballard and trying hard to get my gal ready to go.  I'll follow in about a month but I'll have a lot to do even after she goes.  There will be packing to do still.  I have a lot of stuff to get rid of or sell or find a home for.  I have to work as much as possible to make as much money as I can before I go because I won't be working while I'm there.  Not for money anyway.

How do I put a freakin' picture up on this thing?

A minor intro

Hello Friends and Family,

Well, I don't have my ticket yet due to circumstances that will soon be worked out, but I'm packing my cat and my guitar and following my love Amber to Africa.  FOR A YEAR!!!  I'm pretty darn stoked and a little nervous but I know I'll be fine in the end.  Actually I'm pretty sure this experience is going to be incredible.

There are many reasons why sending and receiving letters from Uganda is impractical.  (Perhaps I'll get into that in future blogs) (I think I hate that word and it feels weird to say it)   I think I'll call it my Frog.   This will be the quickest way to get up to date information on how I am doing and how Amber is doing from my perspective.  Amber will also be writing and posting on her academic website 

portfolio.washington.edu/amberp37

Make sure and check that out as well.

I hope this works and I hope I will be capable of keeping you all from missing us too much.  A year can go by pretty quick though, so don't cry all your tears away.  We'll be back before you know it.

DL