Dark Star Safari

Anyone still coming here?

2009-07-19T23:21:00.000-07:00

Well, Amber and I are back and trying to adjust. It feels a little weird. I may come across as a jerk when I say that American culture is really bland compared to some other places I've been but it is. It could be just that I'm from here and therefore used to it but I'm not as inspired here, in an artistic sense, as when traveling. I do love my home region, especially its history and scenery, but I keep it in my heart and memory and take it with me when I go out in the world. Africa was grand, grand, grand. It was so great to experience another way of living. And the long break from work allowed me to put my body into deep charge. I notice a new reservoir of energy in me. I'm also very thankful that Amber and I did not bring malaria or giardia home. I feel we are blessed.

So now what? I've grown to love blogging. It's been easy to do given all the unique things I did and saw. Can America provide the same quality of inspiration? I don't know. I think I shall keep writing and posting but not here. I'm announcing the launch of my new blog called "What's Dean Doing?" where I will write about my continuing adventures and strange things I come up against in, I should say, North America since I'm going to Canada next weekend. I can't promise it will be as interesting as Dark Star Safari but I can promise that it will be an outlet for my writing which is important for me. It should also be a good way for me to keep anyone who's interested up to date on what I'm doing. Hence the name. Hopefully there will be another trip before too long but at this point there is no plan.

Okay, I'm posting this and then going to start the new blog. I'll email friends and family with the new address once I have it. Bye!

Last Thoughts Before We Go?

2009-06-12T03:27:00.000-07:00

We’re on our way back to the Northwest. Amber is finished with the data collection for her project and we are out of money. We fly back at the end of June and will be living with my Dad and Stepmom near Poulsbo until we figure out where we are going to live. I will be doing some construction projects on their house and Amber will be focusing on writing her dissertation and jumping through the necessary hoops to graduate. Although it feels a little weird to be moving in with my father and stepmother at age 36, I am thankful for a place to go that’s familiar, for work to jump into immediately, and for cheap rent. We look forward to seeing you all, it’s been a long time and we’ve missed you very much. We’re also going to miss Uganda and all of our friends we’ve made here. This has been an awesome adventure. This may be my last post from Uganda as I will be wrapping up projects, packing, trying to finish a couple of songs and paintings, soaking up a few more equatorial rays, and starting a daily regiment of pushups and situps to get my muscles back. Hope to see you all very soon but until then, here’s a few more thoughts on Uganda…

It hasn’t been difficult at all to communicate with Ugandans here as English is spoken quite fluently by many. But there are many phrases and sayings, colloquialisms if you will, that are endemic to Uganda as with anywhere you go. I know the way I speak sounds funny to them too so I’ve made some adjustments and I’ve been doing it for so long now that it’s natural and I don’t really notice I’m doing it. I’ve always been a bit of a parrot. What will happen when I get back to the States. Will I quickly revert to my old ways or will I keep talking the way I have been here for a while before slowly settling into my old vernacular? Many of these “Ugandanisms” I’ll call them, have become very dear to me and I’d like to keep a hold of them. The beauty of getting to know a new place is learning a new way of looking at things and the slang will often contain that unique angle on life. “How is the going?” and, “How is your good life?” are my top two favorite greetings. “Nice time!” is a common way of saying, “see you later” often with a “well done” thrown in for good measure. “Eehhh” with a descending tone, like you would say while you’re thinking, is a standard way of saying yes here. Perhaps the biggest change I’ve made in my speech, something I learned from Amber, is emphasizing my “t’s” when talking. This seems to go a long way in helping a Ugandan to understand what you are saying but it sounds pretty wierd.

I often hear people using a mixture of Runyankole (the local language) and English. In Runyankole, as in English, there are some rules and exceptions to them. One of these rules is used when a word sometimes will have an “L” sound and sometimes will have an “R” sound (just like “I before E except after C” doesn’t always work). This has created some fun effects when applied to English. There’s a shop in town that advertises selling photos “with flames”. There’s a truck driving around with a great big “Rastafalian” painted across the front in the red, green and gold rasta colors. I often see a boda boda go by with an advertisement on the back for “Papalazzi Photography”. “God bress you”, and “I’ll play for you”, are common phrases used at church. The best one is when our friends Drew and Erin saw a something run across the road in front of their car and when asking their Ugandan driver what it was he called it a squealer. After some thought, they realized what he meant. It was a squirrel.

One thing I’ll probably never be able to explain fully or understand is “The What”. When a Ugandan is talking they will frequently interject the monologue with this question and then answer the question. There is a pause but it’s too fast to answer. The question is rhetorical. For example, “After going shopping for the trip we are going to do what? We are going to pack for the trip.” Another example, “I want to show you my what? My house, so we are going to do what? We are going to walk there now.” It seems pointless, doesn’t it? But it happens a lot. Some of our muzungu friends equate it to our “umm” that is to say they are thinking about what they are saying as they are saying it, but that explanation is somewhat unsatisfactory to me. I think it is a device used to distinguish the speaker from the listener. It creates an “I am the teacher and you are my student” relationship. I think that might be a lot of the reason for it. Ugandans have a reputation of being very proud and this may be another manifestation of their pride. It’s just my humble opinion, though, I have no idea what the real reason for “The What” is.

A lot of the clothes people wear here have come from far away. It took me a long time to realize why I was seeing a lot of AIG shirts and Fly Emirates shirts. They’re the chief sponsors of Manchester United and Arsenal football teams. But when I ran into a guy wearing a jersey from my 4th grade soccer team at the gas station the other day I was a little surprised. The guy wearing it did not speak English but was willing to have his picture taken.

This man is hauling a bunch of matoke, an important staple, to the market. A bunch will sell for maybe 5000 Ush or 2.50 US, and last about a week in a household of 4. Some people I’ve seen live so far from the market, and in such hilly countryside, that they can push only 1 bunch of matoke at a time walking as far as 19km to the market, taking most of a day. Others I’ve seen can push 6 bunches at a time and make more than 1 trip to the market in a day, thus greatly increasing their hourly wage. Day to day living can be very different from village to village due to these differing conditions. It’s such an easy climate to live in but living is still a struggle. Our friend Danny, who recently went back to the states, has some great insight on this topic. See the link to his blog at the upper right hand corner of this page (Lynn And Danny’s Excellent Adventure) Miss you guys!

This may sound strange coming from me but I like to golf. I can count the number of times I’ve been golfing on my fingers and all but once they have been right here in my own backyard in Mbarara. It’s a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon. The cost is low (5000 Ush per person = $2.50 US and 2000 Ush per person tip for the caddy is standard) and the dress code is not enforced. It’s a 9 hole course but made 18 by using different places for teeing off. You have to watch for traffic as there are as many as 6 places where you are hitting over a road, and the neighborhood has no scruples about crossing the course for a shortcut. For clubs we borrow a friends, an Irish father named Charlie who has lived in Mbarara for some 20+ years. The set is incomplete and ancient, but I can’t complain. There’s me hitting one out of the park just before the gallery goes wild. The kids in the background are watching the game to learn how to be caddy’s and if we lose a ball they will find it for us, for a small fee of course. I’m going to miss playing golf because in the US it’s way too expensive and just not going to be the same.

Birds, Birds, Birds, Birds

2009-06-12T03:07:00.000-07:00

I’ve always had a fascination with birds but never considered myself a “birdwatcher” or “twitcher” as they say. But Africa being the amazing place that it is there’s no surprise that there are some amazing birds. Lots of amazing birds. One of the most common books I see in people’s hands, apart from the “The Bradt Guide of Uganda” is “The Birds of East Africa”. We got our guide hand delivered to us by a friend coming back from San Francisco after buying it online from Amazon for less than half the price you would get it for here, yeah!, and it has been put to great use on all of our trips, walks and drives through the Ugandan countryside. Of the mzungus I know I’d say about 90% of them are at least self admitted, if not what I would call avid, bird watchers. We love it. The only point we seem to differ on is whether or not to mark the book when you spot one. For those of you readers interested in birds (Kris) then this blog’s for you. The following is a list of birds I’ve seen with accompanying commentary where necessary explaining a particularly interesting sighting. If I were keeping an actual log I think I’d need to note the time and place of the sighting. I’m not quite that bird crazy yet.

Maribou Stork – One of the first things you’ll see in Uganda that’s rather shocking are these 4 foot tall inhabitors of the trash heap. They’re in every dumpster in every town and rarely spotted outside of the cities. This has prompted the use of their name to describe a person who never leaves the city even to visit relatives during the holidays. These birds, although cautious about humans, are quite accustomed to the presence of humans. They’re not afraid to fly close to your head or to grab your trash as soon as you let go of it. They’re hideous.

Crows – House, Pied. Pied means black and white.

Pied Wagtail - Black and white and wags its tail, hence the name.

Black Kite – Probably third in line for highest population. It’s still really cool every time to see a raptor flying nearby. They have a way of using their tail during flight that makes them easy to spot.

Hadada Ibis – I like to call them kazoo birds because they have a very loud kazoo like call. They like to gather in groups outside our house and honk together as if they’re ringing in the new year.

Shrikes – Common Fiscal, Grey Backed, Lesser Grey.

Brown Parrot – I see these about once a day eating guavas off the tree near our place. They’re only brown on the head and back. The rest of the body is bright green and yellow. Wild parrots, neat!

Plantain Eater – Kinda parrot shaped. Their flying style is aggressive and gangly as they lob themselves from tree to tree.

Long Crested Eagle – My friend Pasco has a great series of photos he took of one of these swallowing a rat whole.

Crested Crane – The national bird. Really stunning. I wonder if they would be good eating?

Bare Faced Go Away Bird – These really grab your attention. They’re really nosy and kind of clumsy fliers. They’re called this because their call supposedly sounds like they’re saying “Go away!” They must like me because I’ve never heard their call.

African Thrush – Everywhere. Boring

Brown Babbler – Everwhere. Also boring

Starlings – Ruppell’s,Purple. Also everywhere but, contrary to the starlings in the NW, really beautiful. The most common type I’ve seen is an iridescent indigo/purple/green with a bright yellow eye.

Sunbirds – Bronze, Green headed, Olive bellied, Scarlet Chested, Variable, This one is a Marico.

Palm Nut Vulture – One early morning drive through Queen Elizabeth National Park we saw about 30 of these so called “solitary raptors” just off the highway. We came back through the same place about 2 hours later and not a single vulture in sight. ?!?!

African Fish Eagle – Very similar to our bald eagle but with more white and a lighter brown body. I’ve seen them fishing up close on Lake Mburo.

Bateluer – Bad ass bird with a bad ass name.

Spoonbill Stork – Often seen filtering the water for algae on the lakeshore next to a crocodile. Maybe they don’t taste very good.

This picture contains all of these birds;

Great Cormorant –

Great White Pelican-

Pink Backed Pelican – Amber’s fave.

Black Headed Heron – Reminds me of home.

Sacred Ibis –

Yellow Billed Stork -

Long Tailed Cormorant –

Pied Kingfisher – A very smart looking black and white cliff dweller.

Malachite & African Pygmy Kingfisher – Despite being very small, they’re very bright orange and blue so they’re easy to spot.

Woodland Kingfisher – An early favorite of mine. This was one of the first brightly colored birds I saw here. They’re turquoise, black, and white with a bright orange bill.

Lilac Breasted Roller – A multi-colored bird with a similar shape as a kingfisher. One of my favorites.

Broad Billed Roller – Rusty red with a yellow beak. They like to sit on the cactus trees.

African Jacana –

African Finfoot – Extremely rare apparently. Our guide at Lake Mburo told us that serious birders come there specifically to see the finfoot.

Black Crake – Black body, bright red feet, a blue eye, and a yellow beak. The way this bird bops around looking for food looks like it’s got headphones on and is listening to techno music. I always think it’s about to do a moonwalk.

Guineafowl – Crested and Helmeted

Double Toothed Barbet –

Pelican –

Paradise Fly-Catcher –

Weavers – Black Headed, Lesser Masked, Northern Brown Throated, The males build a hanging nest by weaving grass hoping for approval by the females. If the potential mate does not approve of the nest she will destroy it by cutting it off the tree and letting it fall to the ground.

Black Headed Oriole –

African Green Pigeon-

Little Grebe-

Hamerkop – With a hammer shaped head this little bird is quite the builder. The nest it makes would be big enough for an ostrich but the hamerkop is about the size of a common seagull.

Saddle Billed Stork –

Egyptian Goose –

Spur Winged Goose –

Yellow billed Duck –

African White Backed Vulture –

Pallid Harrier –

Gabar Goshawk –

African Goshawk –

Great Sparrowhawk –

African Harrier Hawk –

Augur Buzzard –

Common Buzzard –

Tawny Eagle –

Wahlberg’s Eagle –

Lesser Spotted Eagle –

Scaly Francolin –

Red Necked Spurfowl –

Purple Swamphen –

Lesser Moorhen –

Black Bellied Bustard –

Black Winged Stilt –

Water Thick knee –

Lapwings – Spur winged, Long toed, African wattled, Crowned, Senegal

Green Sandpiper –

Lesser Black Backed Gull –

Speckeled Pigeon –

Doves – Blue Spotted Wood, Ring Necked, Laughing

Great Blue Turaco –

Coucals – Blue Headed, White Browed

Mousebirds – Speckled, Blue Naped

Cinnamon Chested Bee Eater –

This is truly fascinating, isn’t it?

Hornbills – African Grey, Black and White Casqued, this is a Crowned Hornbill sitting on my friend Tony’s car just outside our front door.

Double Toothed Barbet -

Swallows – Red Rumped, Mosque, Lesser Striped, Barn,

Red Shouldered Cuckoo Shrike –

Common Bulbul –

Robin Chats – White Browed, Red Capped, Grey Winged

Common Stonechat –

Northern Wheatear –

Flycathers – African Paradise, Red Bellied Paradise, African Blue,

Black Headed Gonolek –

Black Crowned Tchagra –

Fork Tailed Drongo -

Yellow Billed Oxpecker – Often seen picking lice off of Cape Buffalo.

Fan Tailed Widowbird –

Black Bishop –

Black Winged Red Bishop –

Red Billed Firefinch –

Black Crowned Waxbill –

Wydahs – Broad Tailed Paradise, Pin Tailed.

Whew!

Greetings from Uganda

2009-05-19T00:26:00.002-07:00

From the beginning this blog has not been only for you, family, friends and faithful readers. It has been a way for me to better my skills as a writer and to document the experience for the future. I feel successful on both counts but at this moment I’m feeling like it’s been a while since I’ve explained what Amber and I are up to on a more average, day to day level. It’s easy to write about the exciting stuff that happened but it’s much more difficult to convey what happens pretty much every day, and make it interesting to read for everyone. I’ve written about what it’s like to shop and to eat out and to get the car fixed. It’s still like that to me although some of the people I shop from know me by now and will sometimes add an extra tomato or throw a couple of oranges in with my lemons. My regular mechanic, I’m guessing he’s around 23 years old and a wiz on a RAV4, calls me once in a while to make sure the car is running well and if anything needs fixing. Sure, he’s trying to drum up business but he knows the car well and I have to say it’s nice to have his concern.

We’ve spent many weekends going somewhere or other to see as much of the country we can afford. Most weekends, however, are spent right here in Mbarara sitting in the sun, or shade depending on how hot the day, catching up on organization or projects. A Couple of times we’ve gone to the big hotel in town to swim in the pool (7000 Ush = $3.50 US roughly) and drink a cold Nile Special (approx. 22oz and only $1.25 thank you very much). In the afternoons our neighbors and ourselves often congregate somewhere whether it be for a walk or around a table on the porch for some drinks. Sometimes we go to Pasco and Alicia’s for a movie on the laptop projector and a potluck dinner. They have a big, flat, blank wall and plenty of space for seating. I have to say, I’m a huge fan of the potluck. Everyone here is a pretty decent cook and, with a short list of ingredients available to us, someone will make something great that I wouldn’t think of myself. So it’s a great place to exchange ideas about food and information about which store currently has what. The potluck is also a common place for people to show off their recent care package arrivals. We recently got a package from our friends Erin and George that contained Vegetarian Sloppy Joe Mix! Man, were we the hit that night.

During the week I’m usually up first and so I make the coffee. Sometimes we have a toasted piece of my homemade bread. Sometimes we have a fresh passionfuit and banana smoothie (8 passionfruit for 50cents and 1 bunch of size small bananas for 50 cents makes about 6 8oz. smoothies). I try to alternate my days with writing all day on one and painting all day on another, but end up spending most of my time writing or reading. Painting is fun but I feel like writing more these days. Amber, after sending her research staff out for the day to gather data, spends most of her days entering data or planning the next phase of the project. Sometimes she has to go out into the field to oversee some new procedure or, in the case of recent visitors Cissi and Todd, show our friends the ins and outs of her project. She’s also been giving advice and instruction to some of her staff on applying for graduate schools and showing some of the other researchers the capabilities of computer mapping or giving advice on their research. That’s Amber, always giving, always going. It’s great to see her perform in her element. As for me, I can complete a painting within a day but don’t usually get very far, even after spending most of the day, writing. It’s a painful, sometimes self-deflating job to try to write something worth reading. But when you do something good it really feels good. I do make progress, but I look forward to the days of more progress in less time.

Thursday has become the most productive night of the week for me. It’s the night I do Deano’s Pizzeria and many have said its their favorite night of the week. Orders average somewhere between 12 and 18 but often I make 20 to 30 pizzas in one night. The record right now is 32. Someone will put a few tables together and round up as many chairs as we can and it turns into a party. After making pizza for everyone I’ve often brought out the guitar and entertained folks as well. I get my orders the night before so I can make the dough and let it proof in the fridge overnight. On Thursday morning I go into town and do the shopping then come back and spend the rest of the day doing prep. It takes the whole day to get ready to make 20 + pizza’s. Around 5:00 p.m. Amber will put her research aside and help out by decorating the pizza’s as I roll out the crusts. Amber and I, with tons of kitchen experience collectively, are a powerful force in the kitchen and can crank out 30 pizza’s in just a couple of hours. I’m usually sitting down with my own dinner, kitchen clean and everything put away, by 9 or 9:30. My prices are similar to pizza prices in town, averaging 10,000 Ush per pizza. So let’s do the math. I put about 2 hours into getting orders and making dough on Wednesday. Then I work from 8 til 9:30 on Thursday. Amber puts in 2 hours to make the total hours of labor to be 15.5 for one pizza night. Lets say it’s a good night and I sold 22 pizzas. At 10,000 per pizza that 220,000 Ush gross income. The supplies for 22 pizzas cost 75,000 Ush which makes my net income to be 145,000 Ush. Divide that by 15.5 and you’ll find that I’m making 9,355 Ush per hour which, with the current exchange rate at 2100 Ush to the US dollar equals $4.54 per hour. That’s not enough to live on at home but here it pays our electric bill and gives us a little extra something to save for special occasions. It would be nice to pass this little business on to an entrepreneurial Ugandan to keep it going but for now it’s kinda saving our skin here. I even got a uniform from the Deano’s Pizza in Santa Barbara courtesy of Danny and Lynn. Thanks guys, I finally feel legit.

I’ve spent a lot of time the last couple of weeks patching holes in the fence where dogs come through at night. We have 2 dogs on the compound full time and one is in heat. This has attracted every scraggly male around and they get into fights right outside our door at the most in hospitable hour. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten out of bed at 3 a.m. to throw rocks and chase them off. It doesn’t matter if I successfully block off all the holes in the fence. Some of the dogs are so skinny they fit between the bars on the gate. Oh well, she won’t be in heat forever. And when she's not things will go back to normal and I'll get better rest.

Little White Boy

2009-04-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

Contrary to what he might like you to believe, D.O.G. is thriving here. As he moves into his golden years (he’s 16 now) he seems to be appreciating the sun and the shade in our compound while at the same time complaining about everything for attention, his usual modus operandi. He goes on little walks looking for mice (of which he’s eaten many and at least one lizard which he promptly threw back up). He has his spots in the bushes where he can sleep in the shade or the sun without worrying about being disturbed by anyone. And he has us to answer to his every need and to watch over him in case any stray cats or dogs threaten his way of life. He’s looking thinner than he ever has I assume from the exercise. He’s still an endless source of entertainment for Amber and I and now for our new friends here. D.O.G. must have scored high on the karma spectrum in his last life.

The first time D.O.G. went outside in our new home a large group of small birds landed on the fence nearby to check him out. It was as if they had never seen a cat before. I had yet to see a cat in Uganda too so I wondered what they were saying as the birds chirped up a storm and D.O.G. scowled back at them. Many of our Ugandan friends, upon meeting D.O.G., have been shocked at how big he is so I imagine those birds were maybe thinking the same. So D.O.G. is sitting outside in the fresh air for the first time in a long, long time, smelling the air and feeling the sunlight when someone walked by. You’d think he had never seen a black man before because he sunk to the ground and crawled back inside. Is our innocent little cat prejudiced? He’s having a hard time feeling comfortable with Ugandans. It doesn’t help that many of our Ugandan friends don’t know how to pet a cat properly. Our cleaning lady, while perfectly comfortable with him now, had a long period of getting used to an animal as big as D.O.G. lounging around the house. If it were a goat or a chicken I think they wouldn’t think twice but D.O.G. is a cat. Maybe they think of him as a small leopard. Maybe D.O.G. would like to be thought of as a small leopard.

Early one morning, the sun just a hint on the horizon, I woke up to something big and black flying around our bedroom. Recently our friend Danny and I spent 45 minutes trying to get a bat out of one of our neighbors’ apartment so it seemed it was our turn. D.O.G. was already on the case, following it around the room on the floor. Uh oh, I better keep him away from that so I got up and the thing flew into the other room with me and D.O.G. in pursuit. I didn’t really know what to do so for some reason I grabbed a towel. I could tell from D.O.G. that it had flown into the bookcase and was hanging out about 2 shelves down. What do I do? I moved to the other side of the room and crouched down to get a look. Just as I was kneeling down it flew out straight at me. I threw the towel over it. It sank to the ground and there was no movement, just me and the cat staring at a towel for a moment. Then I picked it up slowly. It wasn’t a bat it was a giant black butterfly. D.O.G. tried to bite it and took a piece if the wing off as it flew off somewhere. He also got a face full of black powder. I felt awful for traumatizing a butterfly. Traumatizing a bat is acceptable for some reason but a beautiful butterfly is kinda sacred, no? It survived our attack only for a few hours. Later that day I found it’s body on the floor.

Many of you know, D.O.G. makes friends pretty fast. I’ve pulled him out or and seen him run out of nearly every apartment in the row. If he sees an open door he takes it as an invitation to come in and have a look around. Some people love it when a cat unexpectedly rubs up against their leg, some people don’t. I think a lot of people don’t think of cats as pets. I’ve gotten the impression from many people that cats are dirty. Understandable when you get a look at a stray cat around here, and anywhere for that matter. This has led to some startling reactions when we tell them that he sleeps in our bed. We’ve had some puzzling expressions when we explain to them that D.O.G. doesn’t pee outside, he pees in this little tub where we put newspaper we’ve cut into little strips for him to pee on. “What does he eat?” you ask. Well, his prescription food is not sold in stores here so we had to carry over for him a YEARS SUPPLY! The lengths we go to please our little guy are not the practice of many folks, let alone many Ugandan folks. But after 16 years of taking care of what may in the end be the worlds’ most expensive cat, it’s just what you do. here's D.O.G. napping in his favorite mint patch just outside our place. Now that's inner peace.

The Leopard

2009-04-15T05:37:00.000-07:00

2 hours drive northwest of Mbarara, on the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo, and wedged between 2 mountain ranges is one of the most beautiful national parks I’ve ever seen. True, national parks are always in unique and beautiful places, so I guess it’s extraordinary-ness is normal. I don’t know why, but I always feel, when beginning a blog entry, that I need to make things sound extraordinary and amazing, so that you, the reader will be gripped by my story, riding the edge of “wow” and “I don’t believe you, Dean. That’s incredible!” I always tell the truth, though, and exaggerate only when necessary, which in a land of extremes is never. But being in Uganda and having so many new and different experiences, almost every day, does provide me with plenty of great stories to tell. That being said let me preclude this story with “WOW!! THAT IS EXTRAORDINARY” and continue.

Queen Elizabeth National Park is situated in the west arm of the Albertine Rift Valley. This valley is formed from 2 plates of the African continent ripping apart. The north plate is pushing northward into the Middle East and the Mediterranean and will eventually build a mountain range somewhere in Saudi Arabia. The south plate is going, well south I think. Also known as the Great Rift Valley, it and its surrounding mountains are home to the Nile River and many of its tributaries. You get the idea. It’s big. The park vegetation is diverse. There are many lakes that support fish and wetland plants and trees. There is jungle so thick you can’t see more than a couple of feet into. And there is vast, vast, vast arid grassland just like you see on National Geographic. The valley is full of big animals and there are lots of roads to drive on for viewing them, which we did, Amber and I with our friend Cissi visiting from London. It was Easter weekend and all the lodging in the park was booked full so our plan was to spend the day in the park, have dinner at the fancy lodge, and then drive to Kasese just outside the park for the night. We didn’t know this would be a problem. No one told us you’re not allowed to drive on the park roads at night. Sure, it makes perfect sense now that we have driven on the park road at night. All those big animals come out at night. And it gets really dark in Queen Elizabeth. You don’t see them until you are very close.

Ok, Ok, back up a little. Let me tell you about the beautiful day before I get into the exciting night. We woke up at 6:30 a.m., still dark, full moon reflecting on a smooth black lake, and ate breakfast at our favorite place, Jacana Safari Lodge. You have to get an early start if want to see any lions as they go to bed early in the day. Also, the light is best for photographs when the sun is low in the sky. And that day was gorgeous. Within the first few hundred meters of our game drive we were taking photos of a huge herd of Ugandan Kob eating grass still wet with morning dew and with a full view of the Rwenzori mountains in the background. That alone was worth getting up early for but the drive continued to be beautiful and cameras were firing at will as we watched herds of waterbuck, buffalo, exotic birds, and even a lone hippo grazing out of the water in full sun. Hey hippo, are you so hungry, hungry you don’t care about getting sunburnt. (Hippos generally stay in the water all day to keep cool and to keep from getting sunburnt and then go out at night to graze. FYI) We had lunch at the lodge and a few beers and then were back out for a boat ride in the Kazinga Channel and more animal viewing just before sunset. The Kazinga Channel connects 2 huge lakes, George and Edward, and is a great place to see animals interact as they bathe, drink, and keep cool on the lakeshore. Elephants clearly are the king of the jungle. Everyone moves out of their way as they stroll about getting wet and eating trees. Destroying trees actually. There are crocodiles strewn about the shore with their mouths open to attract bugs. The bugs, attracted to the saliva, will land in the crocs’ mouth and when there is enough to be bothered with the croc shuts it’s trap and down the gullet they go. We pass a sand bar with every square inch taken up by some bird drying their feathers and beaks off in the breeze coming off Lake Edward. I’m planning a blog entry entirely on birds so I’ll be going into this more then. There’s a fishing village on the channel. People living in harmony with the animals you think? Maybe but I met someone who works at the hospital nearby and she has seen many fishermen come in with injuries from hippos who get annoyed and decide to tip their boat and try to crush them. Hippos have a reputation of unfriendly behavior and they could snap you in half as easy as you can snap your fingers if they feel like it. The sun is going down and it’s coming up on time for dinner so we head back to the lodge for that and then it’s off to bed in Kasese.

It’s 9:30 p.m. and we’re at the gate to leave the park. The ranger, not the first one we’ve talked to, is the first one to tell us that it’s illegal to drive in the park after dark. He’s telling us we can’t leave. But the lodge is full, there’s no place for us to stay, we have to leave. Amber gets out of the car and tries to reason with him. The ranger radios someone and they discuss what to do. It took a fair amount of convincing on Amber’s part but the ranger eventually concedes, not without instilling some fear in us. He explains that most of the animals are nocturnal and to drive very slow to avoid hitting one. He also gives us his personal cell phone number with instructions to call immediately if we run into any trouble. It’s about 16km on a dirt road to the park gate and the tarmac highway. Almost immediately we are scaring away birds that were warming themselves in the road so I’m going pretty slow. We come around a corner and about 20 feet in front is something big squatting at the edge of the road. It’s head turns halfway towards us and we get a profile. It’s a big cat! It’s spraying or peeing on a bush at the edge of the road and doesn’t stop what it’s doing for us. We wait a few seconds while the cat finishes and starts to move. I inch a little closer and we finally get a look at the markings. It’s a leopard and it’s at least as big as me but maybe a little bigger, made entirely of muscle and teeth, and not afraid. The cat steps calmly off the road and gives us the death stare, its mouth hanging open as we crawl past. Yes the windows were rolled up as soon as we saw it. Oh, My, God! That got the adrenaline flowing. I pick up some speed and come to a hook in the road. On the inside corner of the curve stands a bush about 8 feet tall. Above the bush, as we round the corner, I see a big black shape about 12 feet tall moving across the road. It’s an elephant and it’s running to get out of our way! It gives out a deep loud squeal as we peel past and get a close view of its rear end. Being that close to a running elephant, even from inside a car, you feel every step in your chest. Ok, we need to get off this road. It really isn’t safe at all. But driving faster would be the wrong thing to do. So I set the pace at about 20km per hour as the fastest we can safely go and we continue. We catch the moonlight shining off the backs of 2 hippos grazing just off the road. Keep going Dean, there’s a lot of eyes glowing out there. We do eventually reach the gate, get on the highway and make it to the hotel with time to spare for a beer to calm the nerves. The only regret I have is there aren’t any pictures of the leopard. I don’t think a camera flash would’ve helped our situation and we would’ve had to have the windows down to take a photo. That was not going to happen.

The rest of Cissis’ visit has been filled, leisurely of course, with showing her around Mbarara. We bought produce in the market, she bought some African fabrics to make some pillows as well as some gifts for her friends. She took a few boda boda rides which are a must for anyone visiting Uganda. We took a special (that’s a what you call a cab here) down to the gas station to put her on a bus to Kampala. Hejdo Cissi until next time. As for me I’m left feeling lucky for what I’ve seen and done and also feeling like I have a lot more to see and do. One thing I’d like to get better at here is haggling. I just learned that a pineapple should cost 800 Ush. I’ve been paying 1500 Ush and feeling like I’m getting a deal. Mzungu Prices! So unfair. The exchange rate for US dollars right now is 2100 Ush to the dollar. So that’s only a difference of about 30 cents but every cent counts when you don’t have an income.

Zanzibar

2009-04-03T04:19:00.000-07:00

Monday March 16th 2009

Zanzibar is where Arabia melds with Africa. This small archipelago off the coast of Tanzania in the Indian Ocean is paradise for anyone interested in swimming, snorkeling, diving, eating, history, shopping, you name it. Amber and I, along with our friends from Seattle Sarah, Steve, and Todd landed in the hot, sweaty night after a long but easy plane ride from Entebbe to Nairobi to here. After riding on the cramped, dusty buses of Uganda the economy class seats on Kenyan Air felt like first class.
After checking in to our hotel in Stonetown, the capital of Zanzibar, we took a walk to a beachside plaza to check out the seafood market. Every night vendors setup tables, oil lamps, and barbecues in this park and cook up skewers of fresh seafood. Tuna, marlin, lobster, calamari, mussles, snails, clams, octopus, you can have a giant crab claw, plus Indian flatbreads, falafel, vegetables, fresh squeezed sugarcane juice, chocolate covered bananas, heavenly heaven for a seafood lover like me. And cheap too. A lobster skewer will run you about $2 US, even less if you’ve got bargaining skills. At each table the cook has his inventory on display, most of the way cooked but not quite done. They grab plate and place on it the skewers of your choice, then when you’re ready the throw it back on the grill to finish cooking. Some of the vendors have a chili sauce, called pili pili, to brush on if you like. I like. If I lived here I would eat here every night. We sat in the grass amongst the Zanzibar stray cats and looked out at the wooden boats in the harbor and up at the stars in the sky.
The next day we got up early and ate breakfast together, included in most accommodations around these parts, on the rooftop lounge of the hotel. As you look out over Stonetown you’ll see that many hotels have rooftop places to hang out. The streets of Stonetown are extremely narrow and extremely not straight so the breeze doesn’t get down into the depths of it. But up on the roof you can see the ocean and feel the breeze coming off it and the sun heating up the day. It gets frickin’ hot here, by the way. Mid 90’s with a humidity of oh my god. We only plan to spend one day here and this is it so we all wanted to get the most out of it. We booked ourselves on a spice tour for the first part of the day. Zanzibar has built a reputation for its spices. They say that in the old days of the explorers you could smell the cloves long before you could see the island. I felt that it would be interesting but I have to admit I thought it might be a little too touristy for my taste. I was wrong, it was one of the coolest things I’ve done. After a short drive out of town and into the hills we got out for a walk through a spice plantation. They didn’t grow only one spice on this plantation. They grew pretty much every spice you can think of. As we walked the guide would stop a tree or bush and pick the fruit, flower, or leaves, pass it around and ask us to guess which spice it is. We had cinnamon bark straight off the cinnamon tree. Bite down on a fresh clove fruit and your whole mouth will go numb. Ginger, when eaten right out of the ground, is really really hot! Fresh nutmeg will make you feel light headed. All these spices were interspersed with the tasting of fresh fruit. We had the best grapefruit, lychee, orange, and coconut right off the tree. It was sensory overload.
The rest of that day the group split up and Amber and I walked around town to look for souvenier's. Stonetown is a labyrinth of narrow streets full of shops, mosques, hotels, and even workshops. Streets only had to be wide enough to get a hand cart down back then so buildings were put very close together. Getting lost is part of the experience, as is dodging scooters and warding off salesmen. Mostly built when it became the capital of the Omani kingdom in the 1800’s, it was the heart of the Arab slave trade. Many of its citizens became very wealthy. The doors on the houses are notorious for their elaborate display of the wealth of their inhabitants. And now, after over a hundred years of salt air, the town has developed a thick patina of Asian smells, African carvings, Muslim chanting and Swahili ballyhoo. It’s an ancient metropolis at a tropical island pace. They even have a phrase to use much like “hang loose’ in Hawaii is used. It’s “hakuna matata” and it means “no worries”. Amber and I dove into a few deep curio shops, bought some postcards, and just explored for a few hours before meeting up with our friends at a bar called Mercury’s which is named after the famous Zanzibar born singer Freddy.
After breakfast the next day I had a scooter driving lesson planned. We wanted to go to the other side of the island, mostly beach, and we thought scooter would be the best way to go. Since I don’t have an international driving license I had to pay for a temporary permit (about $7 US). After 20 minutes of starting, shifting gears, coming to a complete stop and then starting again, the instructor felt comfortable enough to let us go and our friends followed in a rented car. As we zipped across the island we were wafted by the smells of ocean and spices. What a way to go! It took a little over an hour to get to our little bungalow on a length of powder white beach stretching all the way up the northeast side of the island. We spent the next few days lounging in the shade, swimming in the pool, snorkeling around the atoll nearby, drinking blue and green cocktails at happy hour, and eating in luxury.
It’s Saturday now and time for our friends to head home. Amber and I have a couple more days to explore. After coffee on the beach watching the sunrise we ate breakfast and took one last dip in the pool before parting ways, until next time. We hopped on the scooter, me in the drivers seat backpack on my front, Amber on the back with a backpack on her back. We scooted straight down the middle of the island to Unguja Ukuu (South Zanzibar). We were stopped twice by the police to check our license but, contrary to much warning about it, never were pressured to pay a bribe. The police are not paid very well and so many have resorted to using their authority to extort innocent passersby. This is the reputation they have built anyway and while they didn’t come across to me as being friendly, I never felt like I was in a situation I didn’t want to be in. I have no problem proving to the authorities that I’m following their rules. I may need their help sometime.
2 hours later we found ourselves at Menai Bay Beach Resort, among huge baobab trees, in another piece of tropical wonderland overlooking the Menai Bay Nature Preserve. It’s pretty quiet on this side of the island. Upon signing the guest book we learned that we’re their first visitors in a month. Luckily we had called ahead and they were ready and willing to take us in. After settling in and washing off the road, scootering in paradise is dirty work you know, we walked down the beach to the only other business establishment in the area, a little mom and pop Thai restaurant. Run by an older couple, she’s from Thailand he’s from Italy, this little restaurant has it all figured out. Great spot, great food, great service. “We’ll be back for dinner, thanks”.
We got back on the scooter and went about 10km down the road to the Jozani National Park for a guided nature walk. For only $4 US + tip for the guide you can stroll through some of the strangest forest you’ve ever seen. The first part of our three part walk was through thick mahogany and palm trees. With the water table just 2 ½ feet below ground the trees don’t have much to grab on to and so, after reaching about 100 feet tall, they simply fall over. Some trees have adopted a strategy of grabbing on to other trees for support. These are called strangler trees and they end up killing the other tree and they both fall over together. Add to this a bizarre little native, the freshwater crab. What? We’re at least 5km from the ocean and there’s not a lake in sight. But with the water table so close these crabs have no problem getting the water they need by burrowing down to it.
Next we crossed the road into an almond grove that is home to a large colony of red colobus monkeys. These cute little guys have gotten quite used to people staring at them so they’ll get very close to you as they snack on fresh almond leaves. Watching them jump from limb to limb and swing from tree to tree will make you wish you were a monkey too. And they get so close you want to reach out a grab one for a hug if it weren’t for the many diseases you can get from simply touching a monkey. My folks always told me not to touch the monkeys. Sorry.
Next part of the walk was on a boardwalk through a mangrove forest. A mangrove forest is basically a swamp where trees are growing, in this particular forest, in brackish water. Brackish water is half salt, half fresh water. This mangrove happens to be a tidal flat so, although it was low tide when we walked through, at high tide the boardwalk is often underwater.

(Author’s note: I’m struggling here to describe every strange detail when a few photos would save a lot of explaining. I’m uploading this entry on a friends high quality connection instead of my usual slow one. Hopefully this means I’ll get a few photos up.)

Just two days left here and feeling like we’ve grabbed a huge bite out of the place. We woke up feeling great and looking forward to the beaches of the southeast coast. It’s not surprising then, in hindsight, that something unexpected should happen. Well, we knew it could happen but were wishing it wouldn’t. About 4km before we reached the nearest petrol station we ran out of gas. It was 10 a.m. and the sun was just getting cooking. It was time to get off and push. I have to say, if I’m going to run out of gas at a place of my choosing it would be on Zanzibar at anytime of day. Everyone we passed wanted to know what the problem was and if they could help. Unfortunately there’s only one solution to no gas. We soaked ourselves in sweat doing it but we did get gas and dried ourselves off doing 40km per hour to the next beach. Just part of the adventure.

So that was Zanzibar. Back at the compound in Mbarara today the first lady, Janet Museveni is visiting to give us a speech. I think I saw her convoy go by a little while ago and now the place is crawling with soldiers. Maybe I’ll go try to look over the fence and get a peek. Talk at you later!

More Time In The Field

2009-03-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

The following is an account of happenings from the month of February. Sorry for the delay in putting up posts but Amber and I have been away or have had visitors or both so we've been very busy. We recently took a trip to Zanzibar so be looking for a post on that here very soon. I promise. Until then...

More Notes on the Field.

The past few days I’ve been working for Amber helping to enroll participants in her study. Amber, her 2 research assistants Judith and Sharon, and I have been hiking all over the beautiful Ugandan countryside knocking on doors and enrolling some very friendly and cooperative people. So far we’ve enrolled some 500 people. We don’t usually get close enough to the house to knock on the door before they see us coming. They usually see us or word comes down the pipe that we are in the neighborhood. It feels a lot like trick or treating to me. We stand out not only because we are strangers to the villages but because of our white skin and foreign clothes. Add to that the equipment we are carrying to measure the participants’ body mass index and it feels a lot like wearing a costume. The people we have met are so incredibly nice. When we ask for directions we usually get a guide to go with us, usually a young kid. Sometimes the kid ends up taking us to all of our households for the day, hiking through some grueling terrain up and over ridges and down into valleys inaccessible by car. For the locals a walk like this is no problem, often doing it in oversized worn out flip flops or even their bare feet. We often draw a good sized crowd usually made up of 90% children. They always say, “How are you’” hoping for the customary, “I am fine ,” response. They’ll repeat it many, many times. So many times that you get tired and just can’t say “I am fine” anymore. It’s fun to see their shock when you ask, “How is your day?” in their language. They usually gasp and say something to the effect of, “the muzungu knows our language!” Then you have to say, “just a little” and they laugh again.

One day as we were coming back to the car to take our lunch break we found a baby goat hanging out around it. A kid. It was timid and kept crawling under the car to hide from me so I tried to ignore it. We sat in the shade under a tree and the kid eventually came and sat with us. How cute. After we had our break we loaded into the car to drive to our next house and the goat started running after us. I don’t know what it wanted. One theory Judith had was that it thought it’s mother was inside the car. This persistant kid chased us for the better part of a mile, yelling and screaming all the way. At one point it managed to get in front of us, trying to force us to stop. Eventually we got to the trading center and the goat got distracted by a small herd of cows so we managed to escape. I have a feeling some little boy got a whipping that night when he brought the goats home for the night less one kid. It’s usually the young boys chore to take the goats out to graze for the day. Not while they’re in school of course. Some kids are put in charge of the calves as a form of training for the future job of taking care of the cows and for the calves future job of being an obedient cow.

While Judith and Sharon are introducing the project to each household I have time to look around. Everywhere we turn there is something new to see. White people don’t go to the places we are going to generally and, for some of the kids, we are the first white people they’ve ever seen. Understanding that helps to understand any strange behavior we experience. At one house a teenage boy is dancing to the reggae beat on his transistor radio while staring at me blankly. But what is he doing? Does he want to impress me with his moves or his tunes? Is this some form of intimidation? All I can do is try to act normal. In hindsight maybe I should have joined him.
Once a man walked by carrying a cow leg, hoof and skin still attached, and threw it down in the grass in the neighbors yard. Right behind him was another man carrying the rear legs of the cow, one on either end of a large stick, over his shoulder. As a small crowd formed around them they set to butchering the legs with machetes. When we finished with that house Judith asked what happened to the cow. It turns out the cow was killed by a leopard nearby!

Getting a close up look at how people live is forever interesting. There are many different sizes and shapes to their houses but most fall into three categories. The first category I would describe as the traditional “nice” Ugandan house. It is round in shape with a mud floor, often covered in goat skins or grass mats, mud walls and a grass thatch, reed, or banana fiber roof. These houses are generally separated into three rooms by mud walls. The walls however don’t extend to the ceiling, they generally end at the same height as the outer walls. The roof, being vaulted, is usually a good 5 or 6 feet higher than the top of the walls making privacy nonexistent. With a typical family size of 10 or more kids I’m pretty sure the oldest kids are well aware of sex pretty early in their lives. The door on these houses is usually a standard looking solid wood door with a deadbolt on the inside and a latch for a padlock on the outside. And the windows, called ventilators by the locals, are like a porthole on a ship, small and round. Typically one would remove their shoes, or gumboots, before entering the house. Despite the floor being mud Ugandans are concerned about cleanliness. Where the ceiling meets the top of the exterior wall there is a space to let in air. This creates a natural convection current which keeps the house cool. It also serves as a great spot to store extra shoes.

The second type of house we often see is constructed with a grid of sticks and mud. Large branches are stuck in the ground vertically along wall lines and smaller sticks are tied to them horizontally every 6 inches or more. This forms a structure to hold packed mud while it dries. The sticks eventually rot away but the mud keeps its shape. Sometimes you’ll see where the rain splashing off the ground has eroded a hole in the wall or the sticks have long rotted away. In these circumstances one simply packs some fresh mud into the hole effectively patching it for another season or two. I’ve seen these houses with any of the types of roof discussed above as well as corrugated sheet metal roofs. I like both of these styles of house. They are cheaply built using local materials and are 100% biodegradable. Even the sheet metal will eventually turn onto dust. Although the floor is uneven and the walls not straight or plumb, the houses have a natural, calming feel to them.

At our first few houses I noticed a lot of chickens hanging out in these detached huts and I mistook them for chicken coops. It took three or four house visits to realize they were actually kitchens. Cooking is commonly done here with charcoal or wood fuel. You can imagine how messy this can be. I’m guessing, but this must be the reason for the detached kitchen almost every house we visited has. The detached kitchens I saw were usually a smaller version of the round mud house. With the fire out of the house it can be kept going all day and night without risk of burning your house down and without turning all the walls, and your belongings, black with soot. Amber and I both grew up with kitchens full of chicken paraphernalia so it doesn’t seem strange at all but rather convenient. When you need an egg or two or are planning to have chicken for dinner you need not travel far.

The third commonly seen house is what Ugandans regard as a “nice” house. Picture an English cottage but with the Ugandan countryside in the periphery and you’ll know what one looks like. These cottages are constructed of a concrete floor and walls and have glass windows and doors, and a sheet metal roof. I saw many houses like this way up on hillsides overlooking the vast, scrubby countryside where no vehicle could venture to crawl. The yards of concrete, the steel bars and the metal sheets were brought to these beautiful perches, by hand. I was never invited in past the main room so I couldn’t say what the house is like past there but the furnishings we saw were generally similar to what you might expect in a house where you are. There’s a couch, a coffee table and a couple of chairs in the middle of the main room. In one corner there is always the milk cabinet. As I’ve mentioned in the past, this is cow country and the people here are way into their milk. I would even go so far to say that milk is their biggest source of, well, of everything their body needs. Matoke, the common staple, is cheap and readily available but it doesn’t offer much but a few carbohydrates. Milk gives them many nutrients and the fat they need to burn while they’re working in the fields on the matoke plantations are grazing cows. I’m pretty sure they drink more milk than water.

There has been no end to the new on these days in the field. What I’ve put forth here is but a small sampling of the most interesting. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to walk with and amongst these people in this beautiful land. I can assure you that along with these writings I am producing tons of photos, videos, paintings, and songs to capture every thing I can of our experiences. I’d love to share them here but the rate at which information moves on the interweb here wouldn’t catch a slug. They will just have to wait until next we meet. I will however have much more to write about so I’ll see you next blog.

Valentine. Be my little Valentine.

2009-02-27T04:53:00.003-08:00

Shortly after arriving in Mbarara I was introduced to an accountant at the University. He had heard that a muzungu musician was coming to town and was curious about what I might want to do while staying here. At the time I didn’t have an answer for him other than to enjoy not having to work constantly. Over time it has been shown to me that Ugandans love country music. It’s on the jukebox at the bar. It’s being played on the stereos for sale in the department stores in Kampala. There are country music radio stations to listen to. You can buy Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton cd’s at the music stalls in the market. Amber and I both realized at the same time that a country band would be a popular thing in Uganda. So I approached our accountant friend for advice on the matter. What he recommended for me was to go to the big hotel in town and try to setup a gig. If they are willing to pay for a country band then he would provide me with the musicians and instruments I needed to have a country band. It goes against my better judgement to try to sell a product before knowing exactly what the quality of the product is. And that is what I told him. His explanation was that the musicians will want to be paid and want rides and this and that from the start so it would be better to have the income first so I’m not investing in something that may not pan out. Ok, I understand that. It makes sense I suppose so I’ll trust him on this one. After all he has much more experience than I in promoting music in Uganda. His wife is a successful musician playing gigs all over the country.

Last Tuesday I approached the hotel with my proposal, to provide some light country music during dinner one night a week. Then something unexpected happened. They wanted my band to perform the following Saturday during their special Valentines day dinner program. I had to, embarrassingly, tell them that the band was not quite ready. But it’s hard for me to turn down an opportunity to play music to an audience so I offered to play solo. After a short conversation about the details of the gig we agreed that I would play this Saturday for about 40 minutes as an audition for later gigs with the full band. I went home excited but a little nervous since my repatoire did not include many love songs at the time. A few hours later the hotle called me back. “Can you bring us a sample of your music?” Doh! I don’t’ have a cd of my own and I can’t give them the very poor quality examples of my various bands playing at various weddings where the sound of the crowd is in the foreground and the sound of the band way in the back. I told them I would bring it at the end of the day. This bought me some time to learn a few love songs and record them on my laptop, albeit it only bought me about two hours. I pulled it off however and heard from them the next day that everything was good and they were excited to add me to the program.

On Wednesday as I was running an errand I ran into some friends in town. They had heard about the gig. ‘How?”, I had to ask. “They’re announcing it on the radio”. “What?” I went home and tuned in. Sure enough after about 15 minutes of listening there was the announcement that Dean Patrick Luce from America will be providing country music for the special Valentines Day dinner at the Lakeview Hotel Resort. Ironically they pronounced my name perfectly without being taught. That never happens in America. I didn’t know I would be that much of a draw though. I should have negotiated for more pay. Dang! This was pressure. I had to shine. I went to work learning love songs. If I was a hit they might want me to play for longer. By Saturday I had worked up 9 songs, mostly by Willie Nelson. I shined my boots and ironed my shirt and showed up to the gig on time. It turned out to be way too early. I was there before the PA had even arrived let alone been setup. In typical Ugandan fashion (sorry Uganda but you’ve built a reputation) things were running way behind schedule. I waited for two hours before sound check. No biggie. I started to form in my head witty things to say to introduce myself and to use in between songs. Then I was introduced to the MC. Oh great, someone is going to introduce me. That’s always nice. We work out a plan. Dinner is served and as people are eating I am introduced. I play one song and the MC comes up, “play three more songs.” Ok. Um. I just told you I could play for 40 minutes or so. I took this to mean play three back to back without talking in between. No problem. After two songs I’m interrupted by the MC again. I don’t think he’s comfortable with me talking. He neglected to explain the program to me. Instead of playing a full set of tunes like one would where I’m from, they had me play a couple of tunes, then the DJ played a few, then there was the photo of the contest winners (what contest? I didn’t know about a contest.) then there was a performance by another musician from Mbarara, and then me again, and then more contests, and so on. All in all it was a good experience, a little strange and off balancing, but good. I did receive many compliments, enough to feel good about the performance. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll do it again. By the way, I only played 5 songs.

Incidentally the other musician that performed did so in typical Ugandan fashion. She was a singer and didn’t have a band, just a CD. When you go to see a performance here it’s often of someone singing to their own CD like karaoke but with the original vocals present as well. They call it live music but it’s not what I would call live music. It’s not live music it’s recorded music with someone singing with it. I think this is due to the fact that instruments are expensive and most people can’t afford them let alone the lessons it takes to learn to play them. This makes someone with musical skills and instruments to show them a valuable commodity, something to keep in mind for the next time I negotiate a gig.

Welcome to Our Kitchen

2009-02-09T21:25:00.000-08:00

Our apartment here in Mbarara is really nice and comfortable. We have much more space than we did in Seattle. We even have rooms with doors that we can shut in case one of us needs to concentrate on something and one of us wants to watch a movie or listen to music. The building itself is built of concrete and brick and has some very large overhangs to keep the sun from getting in. It never gets unbearably hot inside even on the hottest of days. But enough about the whole apartment. This time I’d like to invite you to spend a few minutes with me in one of the most popular rooms in the place. Welcome to Dean and Amber’s kitchen.
Our little town has a few restaurants and bars to go to when one doesn’t want to cook but they all offer a very similar selection. You can imagine that being vegetarian here is limiting just like it is most places so Amber and I, both having decent cooking skills, usually eat at home. Our kitchen is about twice as big as the last kitchen we had in Seattle. We can actually both work in there at the same time, a huge plus since we spend a lot of time there. The main workstation is on the left side. We have about 5 feet of counter space and a large upper cabinet above it. Underneath the upper cabinet we’ve hung our utensils for quick access. The countertop is made of concrete. Amber bought some plastic to cover it just before I arrived for easy cleaning. Next to the counter sits the stove, a cute little electric baby with 4 burners and an oven Only three of the burners work and we don’t dare touch the dials because this often causes them to go out. The oven gets good and hot though and has been working quite well for baking bread and pizzas. There’s nothing quite like the comfort given from a warm piece of your own handmade bread with butter. We’re lucky, some of our neighbors’ ovens don’t work at all and some of them are unable to turn the oven off so every time they turn on the burner to cook they have the oven going full blast too.
Over on the right side we have a sink with a built in drainboard and the fridge. The sink has a small electric water heater over it for hot water. It definitely gets the water hot enough. It’ll burn you if you’re not careful. It took a little experimenting but we’ve got it adjusted so that it’s hot enough to cut the grease, but not so hot it hurts. The fridge is a cute little box sitting opposite and complementing the stove. There’s an icebox in the top, which holds the ice trays we bought on a recent trip to Kampala. It took three days for the water to turn to ice but it’s good to go now. We had to rig the door shelves so they would keep the contents in place when opening and closing the door. I bought some twine in town and Amber weaved 2 straps that I then tied on to the screws in the door. Good as new and now we’ve increased the capacity of the fridge by a lot. It’s also comforting to open the refrigerator at home and find it fully stocked with plenty to choose from. On the floor between the sink and the fridge is where we setup D.O.G.’s food and water dishes. One recent morning I noticed him go for breakfast and quickly shake his head and run off in disgust. Upon inspection I found his food totally inundated with ants. To solve this problem we put a ring of coffee grounds around his bowl and a line of coffee grounds across the front door where they were coming in. The ants won’t climb over them. It took a few days, but they eventually left. Also between the sink and the fridge is the customary window with a view of the walkway and our garden. I brought some seeds with me at Amber’s request and we finally managed to get them planted about 2 weeks ago. Things grow pretty fast here and we’re getting pretty excited at the prospect of fresh baby greens and basil, chives, rosemary, and parsley. (And I think there are more seeds on the way. Thanks Erika!). According to the book A Pattern Language by Christopher Alexander, a vegetable garden is not a hobby, it is a fundamental part of human life. In an economic state such as ours (globally speaking) it has become increasingly necessary for people to be self-sufficient. In a world such as this it becomes as natural to have your own vegetables as it is to have your own air. Growing your own food is rewarding yourself for being good. I have to admit, though, that Amber is the one keeping up with the garden. All I did was buy the pots and fill them with dirt.
The water here is not safe to drink straight from the tap. Boiling it is enough to kill the harmful bacteria but we go one step further and filter it as well. This is a frequent operation in our kitchen. Every couple of days we need to fill our 2 pots with water and take turns boiling them on the one burner hot enough to boil that much water. After they cool we then pump them, by hand, through Ambers filter she’s had for ten years and taken to Africa 4 times now. (New filter in the mail thanks to Dad and Edda). We keep a small collection of water bottles in a basket on top of the fridge right next to the basket of mangos, tomatoes and potatoes. It’s a bit of a workout but it only takes about 15 minutes to fill all of our water bottles.
One thing I’ve been filling my Thursdays with is a small business I started a couple of weeks ago. It’s called Deano’s Pizzeria! Amber helped me with designing the menu. I’ve had to get creative with available ingredients in order to provide a truly authentic and at the same time unique pizza. I make my own sundried tomatoes in the oven for example. And my roasted potato and roasted garlic pizza is an homage to a pizzeria I used to go to in Belltown in Seattle called World Pizza (r.i.p.). I usually end up making between 10 and 15 pizzas each Thursday so I’d say it’s a success. For those of us that have been here for a while it’s nice to have a meal that reminds you of home once in a while. And for those people who are here for only a week or two it’s hardly worth it to them to fill the fridge with groceries. I get my orders on Wednesday so I know how much to prep for and I spend most of the day Thursday shopping and making pizza. And on Friday we get to enjoy the leftovers. I’m saving all of the profits to go towards accommodations in Zanzibar in March. We are planning a trip there with our friend Todd, who’s coming from Seattle, and our friends Sarah and Steve who are also living in Uganda up in Kibale National Park.
So that’s our cute little kitchen. I hope you enjoyed it. I’ve been enjoying your comments so keep them up. I’m sorry I can’t respond to them all. The internet is darn slow. And there just ain’t no speeding it up from here.

DVD review

2009-02-09T21:21:00.001-08:00

Titanic Battle parts 1 and 2 – A Sequel to Prince Of My Heart

I finally worked up the nerve to ask our regular DVD rental store clerk for a recommendation on a Nigerian flick (commonly known as Nollywood) After a brief chuckle the clerk handed me one saying, “You watch this one”. I could have asked why he chose it but I didn’t. The clerk could have asked me what I like in a movie but he did not. I decided to take his recommendation first and to ask questions later. On my way home I noticed that the movie is a sequel. I think my first question will be why he didn’t want me to see the first part of the story.

It took a few days but Amber and I finally worked up the courage to put the movie in and give it a try. We’ve seen a few bits and pieces of these films on television in restaurants enough to know that these films are hard to sit through. They often have long segues between scenes where you are forced to see, for the twentieth time, the same clip of Lagos at rush hour and the same cars going over the same bridge, or a close up of the same ship in the harbor and then a pan out to the rest of the city’s skyline. During these segues there will be playing a bit of music. The same bit of music you’ve been hearing the whole way through the movie. It sounds like something that came already automated on a keyboard from Taiwan. No offense Taiwan, it’s just a reflection of the kind of budget the movie is working with. To clarify, these are low budget movies. The acting is amateur, the music is cheap, the footage is shot with a handheld digital camera, you get the feeling there is no script from time to time. So you can imagine why it took a while to work up the courage to watch one. It’s not that Amber and I are getting bored either. I feel pretty strongly about trying it before knocking it this time. I’m trying to understand the culture

After about twenty minutes of “The Story So Far” we’re feeling pretty well up to speed and I realize why we didn’t need to rent “The Prince Of My Heart”, the movie officially starts. Here is the outline. A young student named Collins played by Emeka Ike is caught between two rival girls. One girl, Evelyn played by Chika Ike (related?) is the daughter of a senator and the other, Stacy played by Omotola Jolade, is the daughter of the President of the Senate. Both are wealthy and one has it out for the other because of some beef between their fathers. They shower Collins with gifts and attention until one day while Collins and Evelyn are hanging out in the house that Stacy bought for Collins, Stacy walks in disgusted to find Evelyn in her house. Collins took off and, to his credit, warned Evelyn that Stacy was coming but she wasn’t budging. After a few harsh words a fight breaks out wherein Evelyn breaks a bottle for a weapon but Stacy clobbers her with a stool. The chapter ends with scenes of the recovery of Evelyn. She shows her strength by enduring a painful bandage removal process followed by some fancy jogging work and calisthenics on the roadside.

Part two begins with Collins up to his old shenanigans again. (That is what he calls them) This time it’s with his best friends little sister. He’s living in a part of town that is apparently unknown to Evelyn and Stacy because they seem to have lost track of him. They also seem to still be pissed about the whole thing. After a rather angry speech by Collins best friend, Charles, to his little sister, Benny, we find Collins and her in a hotel laughing and getting on rather well. Then they move to the bar. Collins explains that he is just hanging around until he writes his last paper for school and then he’s heading back home. She asks him about the other women. He explains he’s under pressure and can’t put up with their shenanigans. Yes, he uses the word “shenanigans”. Benny goes to the bathroom or something and comes back into the wrong room. The room where Evelyn is hanging out with her friends! And Stacy is staying in this hotel too! What are the odds? Collins and Benny get in a taxi and leave to go to Charles’s house. Stacy and her posse also get into a fluorescent green VW Jetta and go to interrogate Charles. Luckily Stacy and crew are much faster than Collins because they have enough time to get their info and leave before Collins shows up. I’d be mad at that taxi driver if I were Collins. Then it becomes apparent that Collins has a paper due so he sets to doing homework while Charles and Benny yell “What’s wrong with you?” The next scene is of a classroom getting ready for an exam. I assume this is Collins’s class but he’s not there. Collins is missing his exam to study! What? I’m lost. Sometimes it’s hard to hear what the actors are saying not only due to their accents but also because the dialog is often quieter than the music or the traffic on the street for that matter. Oh, I see. Collins is missing his exam because Stacy and her posse have captured him, Charles, and his little sister and are holding them hostage. It seems that Stacy is out to punish them and Stacy has guns. They take Benny from the room and as she screams Charles and Collins get into a fight. “Don’t take it too far man. You’ll regret it Charles.” “That’s my sister screaming, man. It’s because of you, man. You’ve taken it too far, man.” The next scene Stacy explains that Collins must marry her in order to get her freedom from her father. She must be married in order to get out of his tutelage or something. But Collins won’t marry her against his wish. Stacy loads them all into her car and drives to a dark street to try to convince Collins again. This is the big climax where Evelyn shows up with the cops to try to save Collins and his friends. I guess she really cared about him after all. In the end things don’t bode well for Stacy as the police shoots her because she wouldn’t drop her gun. Everyone leaves with Evelyn except for Collins who is taken in by the cops for questioning. The End

I realize that this review wouldn’t fit on the back of a DVD case. I’m sorry, I hope I haven’t bored you. I could have just written out the lyrics to the song played during the credits for it seems to be composed just for this movie. The lyrics describe the story perfectly. Jealously, Bitterness and hatred is what you get at the end. When you play love like a game and it’s for a selfish gain. Oh, oh, oh. His life is in danger for he has kindled her anger. She wants nothing more than to be his wife. Huh? That Stacy is totally nuts.

The Internet Shuffle

2009-02-09T21:18:00.000-08:00

It's been a month since my last post! So sorry to leave you hanging. The internet has once again become a difficult force to deal with here. I'm not confident I'll be able to post photos anymore but I'll keep trying. Stay tuned!

Friendly, Progressive, Rwanda

2009-01-16T21:39:00.000-08:00

The internet is not cooperating with me so I'll have to add photos to this post later. Stay tuned.

On a Friday morning, 6:30 a.m. Amber and I, along with our neighbor and friend Lynn went down to the gas station to catch a bus to Kigale, the capitol of Rwanda. The plan was to meet Lynn’s husband Danny there, along with his two friends (one from Canada, one from Rwanda, a married couple), for a weekend of luxury and exploration. There is a proper bus station in Mbarara but it seems that most buses don’t bother to stop there since it’s a little off the main road and very congested. All the buses going to Kigale are coming from Kampala and unless you want to pay for a ticket starting in Kampala you won’t know if there’s a seat available until you talk to the agent in Mbarara, who then calls the bus driver en route to see if it’s full or not. It doesn’t really matter if it’s full though because often people get off mid route. The bus drivers don’t really keep track of who’s going where. That responsibility lies on the passenger. So when the bus pulls into the gas station in Mbarara to fuel up and let the people go to the bathroom we find out that it’s full and it’s going to stay that way for the rest of the journey. The agent is willing to sell us a ticket though, providing we are willing to stand in the aisle. Fortunately there are several bus companies so we decide to wait for the next one.

7:30 a.m. The three of us are sitting comfortably on a coach to Kigale, on the bonnet which is a padded engine cover at the front of the bus between the drivers seat and the opposite row of seats, I’m facing backwards and sitting next to a nun who is holding a giant toy helicopter. I still manage to twist around enough to get look at the gorgeous scenery during the 5 hour trip. It’s incredible to imagine how long this land has been walked by humans. The first humans ever lived in these hills and valleys. My mind folds over on itself trying to grasp it all. Occasionally you can see the remnants of a terraced garden stepping down the hillside. There are also some very impressive churches and mosques looming over the valley from the top of a hill. I’ve been reading Alan Mooreheads’ “The White Nile” and learning a lot about the European exploration of this part of the globe. Only 150 years ago this land wasn’t on any map. It was a total mystery what existed here. Slave trading ended just over 100 years ago, about 40 years after the end of the American civil war.

12:30 p.m. After a one hour break at the border where we went through customs twice, once for leaving Uganda and once for entering Rwanda, during which the entire bus was emptied out and luggage searched for, of all things, plastic bags, we’re rolling through Kigale in a car with Danny and his two friends, Virgil and Elisa. Rwanda has banned the use of plastic bags throughout the country and seems to be more intolerant of them than anything else. It’s one of the many signs of progression I saw in Rwanda. The differences between Rwanda and Uganda are obvious the moment you cross the border. It’s very clean (they had their “national service day” the previous Saturday where everything is closed in order to clean the streets and sidewalks), the roads are being maintained (yeah there were potholes but there were road crews out fixing them) and there was very clear signage throughout, lots of nice cars in the city and people appeared to be fairly well off (although there were beggars too). I didn’t get to learn much about it but they have a managed healthcare system that costs about 1 dollar to buy into. Overall Kigale has a very “European” feel to it. After a short discussion over lattes (our first decent cup of coffee since leaving the U.S.) about where we want to eat for dinner, we head to our hotel for a nap.

7:00 p.m. We’re at the New Cactus Restaurant dining on wood fired pizza and draft beer (insert Homer Simpson moan) but we’re trying to hurry to meet Virgil and Elisa at the soccer stadium for a concert. Virgil works at the Rwandan embassy in Beijing. With his job come a lot of high-powered connections. Fortunately for us we are in the position of benefiting from his connections this weekend. Virgil gets us all into this sold out performance of musicians from all over Africa and the U.S. for free! The setup is a little strange. The Minister of Sports didn’t want the grass on the pitch ruined so no one was allowed to go on it. (A pitch is the proper name for a soccer field). The stage was on one side of the stadium at midfield and everyone sat in the bleachers all the way around the outside. We were quite far from the stage but the performers all found ways to connect with the crowd. Many of them came out into the center of the field with a wireless microphone and danced. I’ll name some of the performers here but I won’t get the spelling right. Let’s see there was Koffi from Ghana, Baby Cool from Uganda, some dude from Burundi, another dude from Rwanda, and the headliner (from the U.S.) was Sean Paul. I’ve never heard of Sean Paul but I saw just as many t shirts for him as I saw for Eminem during our stay in Rwandaso I guess that says something. Great night!

9:00 a.m.ish More lattes and a croissant (!! such things are not available in Mbarara) from a starbucksy coffee shop called Bourbon Coffee Co. Then it’s off to the genocide memorial for some very heavy sightseeing. This is the main attraction for a first time in Kigale. It’s located within a 5,000Rwf (this is Rwandan francs. The rate is .555 this weekend, so 5,000Rwf is basically $2.50) taxi ride of the center of town and admission to the memorial is free. It’s built on the burial site of 250,000 people. They’re not sure how many were killed in the genocide in 94 but they say it’s around 1 million. The memorial is ¼ about genocides throughout history, ¼ memorial for the children killed in 94’, and ½ about the Rwandan genocide during which the world in general turned their backs for 90 days while Hutu’s ran around and killed as many Tutsi’s as possible, mostly with machete’s. It’s a very well done memorial and I don’t think a visit to Kigale would be complete without a visit to it. But man! That was hard to see. It has just recently been reported that the Rwandan military is supporting the Tutsi rebels cause in the Congo. These are Tutsi’s, who fled Rwanda for their lives, killing as many Hutu’s as they can in a “preemptive strike” type defense. The scars from the genocide of 94’ may never heal.

The rest of the stay we spent exploring, having lunch, and shopping for handicrafts at an artists cooperative. We also witness a game of boda-boda polo. I’m not sure but it looks like a group of muzungus hired a bunch of bodas for this. It looks like a good way to get hurt if you ask me. Amber and I found a great bookstore. Half of the books are in French and half are in English but we didn’t have trouble finding lots we’d like to read. Books are an important part of life here in Africa, and Amber and I are swallowing them as fast as we can. We also picked up some art supplies for more paintings and drawings by yours truly. The bus ride home was easy and uneventful. The best part was it dropped us off practically right on our doorstep. I heart Kigale!

More Of The Day To Day

2009-01-11T20:32:00.000-08:00

The longer my stay in Uganda, the harder it is for me to relate to you, the reader. Day to day living here is quite different than in the U.S. and I’ve become quite comfortable with the ins and outs of it. From time to time I’ll use a word or phrase that is quite common here but you may not be familiar with. I try to inform you of the meaning as we go along but lets review, shall we?

Muzungu = White skinned person but is also used to describe any foreigner including Asian and Indians. It’s just like honke or haole. Amber recently asked to learn the word for black skinned person (omwiraguzu) and now we get to give them a dose of what it feels like.

Boda-Boda = Scooter taxi. They are everywhere and really come in handy. I usually walk to town for groceries and take a boda back. This ride takes about 3 minutes and costs 500Ush (27 cents U.S.)

Matatu = Mini van bus or combi if you’ve been to Mexico.

I guess that’s it for now. There will be more later I’m sure.

Using A Cell Phones

It doesn’t take long to see that cell phone companies probably spend the most on advertising out of all businesses here. There is a lack of large franchise organizations in Uganda. There are no McD’s, no Burger Kings’, no Subway’s, no Borders or Barnes and Nobles, no Best Buy, no WalMart, no Starbucks, no KFC, nothing. But you could find yourself driving way out in the middle of nowhere, through neighborhood buildings half built of brick and half of mud and sticks, and see some shops painted head to toe with the colors and logo of one of the four or five cell providers operating in Uganda. It’s nice not to have phone poles and wires running every which way, interfering with the beautiful scenery. Cellphone promotions are the majority of billboard advertising too. One phone company has been clever enough, which I really appreciate, to put up the signs on the highway that tell you how far it is to the next major town.

Paying for airtime for your cell phone here is quite unique. You see, a lot of Ugandans don’t have a mailbox. Heck I’m not even sure they have an address given the system, or lack of a system, for demarcating property lines (bushes and rocks). Without a mailbox it would be hard to receive a bill for your cell phone plan so the cell phone company has setup a pay-as-you-go system. Upon arriving in Uganda one of the first errands Amber took me on was to get a SIM card for my phone. By the way, American cell phones work on a bandwidth that no one else in the world uses (Shocking!). I bought an unlocked quad band phone (a phone that can utilize four different frequencies and isn’t locked into any particular phone company) before I came. When you buy a SIM card you are essentially deciding which phone company you are going to use. We didn’t try to comparison shop but, from what I’ve heard from others, they’re all about the same price (3,000ush approx. which isequal to $1.63 as of this writing). After you get a SIM card in your phone you then purchase some airtime. This comes in the form of a scratch ticket much like the lottery. The ticket will have a number to dial and a small patch of scratchable grey area. You simply send a text message to the provider containing the number you’ve revealed and the credit is added to your phone accordingly. You can buy airtime in many different increments from 1,000Ush up to I don’t know how high. I think it’s a great system. It’s very easy and convenient.

There is no voicemail here, which may seem hugely inconvenient, but it’s not. People mainly use text messaging which works very similarly to voicemail (the message goes into your inbox to be read at your convenience). A text message will cost you between 3-9 cents U.S. depending on the time of day you send it and a phone call will cost between 10-20 cents per minute. So you can see the reason everyone sends texts. Another practice used here is to “flash” someone. This is to call someone and let it ring just long enough for them to see your name on their screen. This can be used in a number of applications. For example, you agree with someone ahead of time to meet somewhere when you flash him or her. Or you flash them to tell them you are on your way.

Watching A Movie

There are lots of DVD’s in Mbarara. They all have a slightly different selection but one thing they all have in common is they’re all bootlegs and they’re all in pretty bad shape. There have been many times when sitting down to enjoy a flick we’ve not been able to watch it due to the terrible amount of scratches on it. I’ve taken these discs back to the store and they usually let me take another free of charge. If you do manage to get one going, you’ll often find that the movie was recorded by someone sitting in a theater with a video camera. You can tell because eventually someone sitting in front has to get up, presumably to pee, and their head is blocking the screen. The first few times it’s really funny, especially when they come back to find their seat again, but eventually it becomes nostalgic of actually going to the movies. An advantage to bootlegs is that the selection at the store is quite current. You can rent movies here that are still in the theatre back home. We’ve mainly been renting television shows. It’s more bang for your buck since there can be 10 hours of tv show on one disk. We’ve watched a few seasons of Cold Case and ER, and now we’re working through Six Feet Under and The Wire. Something else they do at the DVD store is put several movies that relate onto one disk. We rented a quadruple feature of Leonardo DiCaprio flicks once. There is also a HUGE section of Nigerian cinema, called Nollywood, to pick from. I’ve seen some clips playing in the store while looking for something to rent and I couldn’t imagine sitting through a whole Nollywood movie. Not only are they worse than a Mexican soap opera, atrocious acting and inconsistent storylines full of superstitions and customs you’re not familiar with, but they’re often 4 hours long! But in the spirit of trying new things, next time I’m in the video store I will ask which Nollywood is the best and try to get through it. A full review will follow. Africans in general have different tastes when it comes to video entertainment. After football (soccer to you in America) the next most watched thing on tv is the African version of Big Brother. In their version the participants don’t do anything. There are no contests or challenges. They just sit in a room and annoy each other. And this show is on everyday!

Nose Picking

It is not uncommon to see people pick their nose in public here. It is socially acceptable to pick your nose in public. Since everyone picks their nose, you don’t have to admit it to me cause I already know you do, you may find it convenient. No more trying to hide it from the other drivers while waiting for the light to change. What’s the big deal? You have an itch or something poking you inside your nostril so go ahead and scratch it.

Grasshopper trap

Ingredients:

1 Big, Bright fluorescent light mounted approx. 10 feet off the ground.
1 Full sheet of corrugated metal roofing, 2’x8’
1 Bucket, as big as you can get

Place the bucket directly underneath the light. With the metal roofing bend one of the ends into a funnel. Place the funnel into the bucket, leaning the roofing up against whatever you have the light mounted to (whether it’s on a pole or on the side of a building). When night falls turn on the light. You will discover that the light attracts the bugs that grasshoppers feed on so in turn attracts grasshoppers. For some reason unknown to me the grasshoppers will jump into the metal roofing so hard that they will be stunned and fall right into the bucket. The small hole of the funnel is enough to keep the grasshoppers from escaping.

Fried Grasshoppers

As many grasshoppers you can eat
Enough frying oil to fill a pan to 1” deep

Peel the legs and wings off the live grasshoppers. Heat the frying oil in the pan. Fry the grasshoppers until golden. Allow to cool. Enjoy! Kinda’ shrimpy I’m told.

Holiday Letter from Amber

2008-12-23T10:56:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-23T07:28:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-12-20T23:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-20T23:11:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-28T20:44:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-24T10:33:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-08T00:55:00.000-08:00

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

2008-10-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-10-21T09:41:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-10-03T18:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-05T22:35:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-12T19:54:00.000-07:00

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.