Valentine. Be my little Valentine.

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

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

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

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!