I’ve finally arrive at the job that I applied for in Canada before coming to Uganda. 3 months late, I’m now living  12km down a crazy little dirt road in the hills or rural southwestern Uganda. I have my own place on campus with 2 rooms, my 2 windows, 2 doors, a small backyard, my own latrine and my own bucket bathing area. It’s a big step up from using public toilets at the hooker hotel in Isingiro so I’m pretty happy about only dealing with my own filth. I get free beans and free matoke (plantain) for every meal if I want it so I’ve been eating that once a day and cooking the rest.  I can only buy tomatoes and bananas in my town so cooking is somewhat limited.

My first day of work was canceled so that I could attend the funeral of the principal’s “mozahi” (old man father figure). I wore a full suit for 4 hours in the blistering sun, while listening to a service that I couldn’t understand. I that’s why they say “how are you?” then “how is life?” then “how is the day?” then “how is it?” every morning… cause they want me to rant about nothing for 5 minutes without thinking or stopping like they often do. I’m getting used to that.

The new town things that I’m the strangest thing in the world but they’re all pretty normal to me now. I played pool on the outdoor pool table and won 7 of 10 games. There were 30 or 40 spectators as the weird white guy playing pool is the best entertainment in  the little town of about 100.

I made a few friends in town over pool. My latest friends is a guy named Dixon who introduced himself by saying “I’m a cattle man. I’m a hard man”. He then found that I don’t have a wife and said that’s good cause WIFE stands for “worries invested for ever”. I like these acronyms that everyone seems to make up in this country.

The school is very very religious as most groups and people are in Uganda. They asked me if I pray and I said yes. They asked me who I pray to and I said “nobody in particular” and they had a fit. I understand that people need this religion in Uganda cause they need heaven to look forward to. I don’t need it so much cause I already live in heaven… a western world with running water, flush toilets, tvs, cars etc etc.

After that conversation I sat on a stool, looking at my latrine and remembered something from when I was in the second grade at St. Mary’s School in Canada. The teacher asked us “What does Jesus really want?” and my old friend Jesse Gregory said “an outdoor toilet”  before being kicked out of class. Thinking about it, if Jesus had lived Uganda so that he could help his fellow man like I do, I think that he maybe would REALLY want an outdoor toilet.

I’ve been on a “development tour” for the past couple weeks, learning about development in Uganda by visiting different schools, hospitals and factories because I’ve been killing time in between my two jobs. As my organization placed me at one job in one town and then transfered my to another half way through, I’ve been extremely busy. I basically have to start over again and adapt to a new job, community, environment, housing etc. It’s really two bad that I’ve been moved around and screwed around like this but I’m trying to think positively about it. My new place is very isolated and my motorcycle is in for repairs so I have difficulty accessing the internet. My new housing is bigger and I have my own latrine and bathing area so I can do my bucket showers with more peace. The new turn is that I only have electricity from 9pm to 6am and I must teach computers all day. I have cell phone reception at one corner of the campus. I’m figuring out how to update my blog using test messages on my cell phone and I think it’s possible. I’ll be online next week with a big update as I’ll be settled in the new place by then. All is generally well but just a little demanding. I’ve got some great photos from the tour and meetings in Kampala to go up next week when I bus it to Mbarara.

This Monday a lot of children went off to different schools and boarding schools in the area so my housing area in Isingiro is a lot quieter than usual. There is one kid left who is too young for school and so instead he spends the pissing and sitting it in, rubbing dirt over his face and snot into his hair. I let him sit on my motorycle and then I drove around really slowly while he sat in front of me, holding the handlebars. He had so much fun that he pissed himself and now he gets onto my bike on a regular basis, trying to start the kick start. Other kids around have heard about the magic white man who can put a pencil in his ear and pull it out his nose. They’ve heard about his magic gas cooker and now about his carnival ride motorcycle. I’ll be leaving to my new town on Sunday so I think I’ll have to sneak away without saying goodbye. I plan on going back to that town from time to time to work on some side projects with Bryan.

We got up at 5:30 in the morning, before the sun had risen, and jumped into one of 3 taxis filled with the people from yesterdays meeting. An hour or so later we were at Queen Elizabeth II National Park. Bryan, the Englishman who has no plans to return to his country, talked about how the Queen, in all her years as one of the richest women on earth, hasn’t left anything of value for her people. She hasn’t left hospital, a research centre, a library or anything in her country, colonies or former colonies - except for a few prisons and Queen Elizabeth National Park.

[Early Morning at the Gorge Where We Trekked]

On the dirt road to the trekking area, we picked up a guy from Australia named Simon who’s backpacking around Africa before getting his first job after chiropractic school. He was very chilled out, positive about everything, well traveled and eccentric. I think that it’s really good to be eccentric. It’s a sign of great intelligence and a great sense of wonder. He carried a stuffed Elmo doll and took all his pictures with it in the foreground. He said that it encourages him to take more pictures and that he has thousands with Elmo all over every continent.

[Elmo in Elephant Tracks]

We started the trek and were led by an army guy in search of chimpanzees and other primates in the gorge jungle. It’s green, unlike the savanna above because of the small river that feeds it.

We didn’t end up seeing any chimps but we saw a few monkeys and some baboons while going up and down through the gorge. One of the taxi drivers, who took the trek with us, found monkey’s skull and waved it around happily for use to see. It was a good day as we walked under the canopy of the forest, listening to the sounds of the jungle, smelling the smells of all the life and telling dirty stories in French so that the other volunteers couldn’t be offended.

Kabingo’s 3 Muzungus (Bryan, Matthew, Me) lett were waiting for the 8:30 bus to Mbarara on Saturday morning but the bus never came. We called a special hire taxi and got seats to ourselves for the full 2 hours through Mbarara and then to Bushenyi. We had a meeting there so we met up with the other volunteers in the cluster and discussed small issues about this and that in our jobs. I had 3 beers and ate 2 plates of spaghetti with a some kind of tomato fish sauce during the meeting. When the meal is free and it’s not goat sauce and steamed plantains I take advantage.  The meeting drizzled into a whole day of blurry socializing and then it was bed time. I slept at Olly’s house. Olly is a 2 year IT volunteer from England. He likes computers, his Uganda girlfriend, cooking, debates, story telling,  his side projects in computer training for development, drinking waragi (gin) and crest (bitter lemon soda), motorcycle touring and the rotary club.

It’s a common sight to see little girls carrying babies that aren’t much smaller than them.

On Sunday morning, Bryan, Matthew, Annette (the bar girl across the dirt), and the grubbiest guy in town got into a taxi to visit Annette’s family in her village. I didn’t at first recognize the grubbiest guy in town cause he was wearing a clean and pressed dress shirt, he had showered and he was wearing a little Muslim hat - this was all the impress Annette’s parents because he has 6 cows to trade for her tucked up his sleeve.

We were greeted so warmly by everyone. They’d never seen a white person before and they were overwhelmed by having 3 in their home. Everyone from the surrounding villages came to peer at our weird skin from around the villages

They served us papaya, pineapple, mango, tomatoes, beans, rice, plantains, and even brand name beer. I felt guilty drinking it as I know they must have really budgeted for it on their pennies a day earnings.

Their house was the cleanest mud house I’d ever been to. The walls were made of mud and cow dung but they were brushed clean. The floor was swept, and the table cloth and curtains were as white as they could be. It’s great to see people maintain their dignity when in poverty.

We tried to pay something for out beer but they wouldn’t let us so we played with the kids and watched the goat head-butt eachother while everyone stared and laughed. They wanted to slaughter a goat for us but we said “ngaha webale” (no thanks), as Bryan is a vegetarian and they’d already given us much more than they had.

We got back into the taxi and waved goodbye while everyone thanked us like we had done something for them. We maybe gave them the story of the white visitors for the next 20 years but it was us who they bend over backwards for and it was us who walked away feeling grateful for such generosity and such warm experiences.

It’s often those who have nothing who are willing to give and those who have plenty who clench their pockets.

She wouldn’t let me take a regular photo… the water had to be in the shot.

…we walked together, back to the little pieces of remaining jungle and set it free.

I’ve been hiking to the top of big hill a lot lately. I’ve got a lot on my mind as my organization has transfered me and I have to say goodbye and start again next week. With Matthew (the new volunteer) here, I don’t really have a job to do. So I’ve been exploring for the past couple of days. Along with exploring I’ve been thinking and reflecting on life, as I often do, but from the top of a mountain. I found that at the summit I can talk to myself as loud as I want to. I can voice concerns, wants, needs instead of thinking about them. It’s a great way to settle the mind… I guess that’s why some people pray. I accept and understand people’s extreme religious views here, as I already come from heaven (the western world with its money, clean water, toilets, TVs and cars) so I don’t need something to look forward, to get through today, like the people do here.