"When I get ooooldah, I will be strooongah..."

[Note: the following bit of blog is from two days ago when I was still in Kampala. Ahora, I’m in KIGALI, RWANDA!!!! Which is gorgeous and has paved roads and the most amazing rolling hills I’ve ever seen… Like I screamed out the window as we passed by this beautiful ravine/hill/awesomeness, “I’M IN LOVE!!!!” However, I’m also dead tired from 13 hours of mind-boggling window-scenery, so for now, please enjoy this outdated post below!]

So. Tonight I decided to spend some quality time with my Dinkpad, Marsha, so I could bang out the Blog Post I Would’ve Written Had I Known What to Say Earlier. Most likely it won’t get posted before I reach Rwanda, but we’ll see. I must warn you: this is probably going to be lengthy…because I feel like I’ve been here for weeks even though it’s only been what, two days?!? However, if you’d like an abridged version, here’s a haiku:

Kampala is fab,

though they don’t have traffic laws,

so life’s like Frogger.

Ha, that’s not the encapsulation of my time here by any means, but I just got back from walking to dinner so the crazy traffic is fresh on my mind… Essentially, stoplights, stop signs, and the concepts of yielding, braking, lanes, and passenger limits don’t exist here… I thought sidewalks existed... until my pals and I realized a giant truck was following us down the “sidewalk.” So, walking is always an adventure, especially when people hanging off of the backs of trucks (some of them rolling along wearing rollerblades and kneepads, no lie) see us and yell, “Muzungu!!” meaning “White Person!!”

I got my first two shouts of “Muzungu!!” today, and they were both yelled quite affectionately. Come to think of it, Ugandans have been nothing but sweet and affectionate to me so far! And trust me, that’s not because I’m anything special; they are sweet to everyone. I can’t tell you how many strangers have seen us looking lost and dumb, and have then dropped everything they’re doing to guide us blocks down the street to where we’re supposed to be. And can I just brag on the hotel staff too? First of all, upon my arrival, my sweet maid friend, Annette, straight up asked me, “you? born again?” and starting praaaaaaaising God when I said yes.  Now, when I see her running about the hotel, she calls out, “Mary Mary Mary Mary!!” to which I reply, “Annnnnnneeeettttteeeee!!!!”  Plus the cooks here—who specialize in banana mush (matoke), potatoes, pasta, rice and samosas—give us ridiculously large portions and serve us tea/coffee constantly. So, yeah, we’re at a legit nice hotel, with soft mattresses, sparkly mosquito nets, and the occasional hot shower (meaning, it’s always hot…when we actually have water…for some reason our water just decided not to exist at all this morning).

More bragging….my group is a bottomless pit of interesting. More than half the kids here have studied or lived abroad before, or done amazingly intriguing things with their lives/summers. Not gonna lie, it can be so intimidating, because everyone is so smart and they all have really great research ideas and impressively diverse interests/talents, la la la… but THEN, I remember, oh wait, I am not here to be applauded and exalted and better than everyone else. I’m here to learn and grow and to be humbled! Thank goodness.

But here’s my main boast: I absolutely love being here, if not for the adventurous living conditions, cool people, sweet Ugandans, and hilarious/terrifying sights, then for the mere fact that I’ve been thrown off a metaphorical cliff, and I just have to trust that underneath are the everlasting arms ready to catch me. I have to boast in the Lord, because I don’t know how many times I’ve been saved from getting slammed by a boda-boda (meaning very fast, very crazy motorcycle taxi deal that we’re not allowed to ride…sad day) or protected from everything from sketchy food to downright despair over certain aspects of being here, simply because God is merciful and answers those panicky, whispered prayers I say when I step onto the street, or when I take a bite of lunch or when I want to pack up everything and go home…  Like Annette says, “Praaaaaaise the Lord!” 

“Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.

Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death.

…

For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling,

that I may walk before the LORD in the land of the living.”

Word.

An epilogue of observations: I don’t know if the malaria medication is messing with my depth perception, but I feel like the sky is much higher here than in America… Or just more immense if that makes any sense. Also, there are these GINORMOUS birds here…like 5’ storks…with Michael Phelps-ish wingspans, that are extremely awesome and alarming. Like my friend/roomie for the time being, Sarah, said upon seeing them, “they’re like…swooping death!” And the rain…oh the rain…is magnificent… today we had to stop one of our orientation sessions for about 20 minutes because our academic director couldn’t yell loud enough to be heard over the downpour outside. It sounded like we were behind a waterfall! It is obnoxious and glorious and I love it. Our orientation also featured surprise guests like this random goat that was munching on leaves outside the window and a lizard that suspended itself from the ceiling. Have I mentioned that I love Africa?

Orientation itself included such fun things as “What to Do When You’re Proposed To” because apparently it will happen on a regular basis. The best response? “I cannot marry you today…maybe tomorrow.” Apparently that’s a much better excuse than saying that you’re already married or have a boyfriend back home…que interesante! I haven’t been proposed to as of now, though the internet café owner-man did give me his number. I didn’t ask for it mind you—I was too busy trying to coax the computer to go faster—but he handed me his card, and wrote on the back, “Please good sister kindly wish and pray for your contact.” I was all, “Ok, thanks, PLEASE GO FASTER, COMPUTER!” Rude.

Anyway, now that I’ve practically written a novella aqui, I’m going to go stand out on our balcony and creep on Kampala. As for blog posts following this one, I don’t expect them to be as long, or incredibly frequent seeing as “classes” haven’t started yet so I have way more free time now… However, no matter when/where/if I give updates, just know that seven-ish hours ahead of your time, there’s a little muzungu girl most likely missing you.

:) Mary