Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Today was another day of many “firsts.” I woke up at 5:00 AM to finish my NYU column. For whatever reason I didn’t have “it” with the latest column. Not sure if its fatigue or the inability to boil down two weeks of experiences into 1,500 words. Nevertheless I sent in a column I wasn’t happy with…so that sucks.
Because I was frantically working on my NYU column I ended up leaving the compound late. I was supposed to catch a matatu at 7:30 in order to meet Solomon (the mentor I was travelling to Hoima with) at 8:15 near the Old Taxi Park. I ended up leaving at 7:45 and when I got to the stage there were no matatus…so I threw on my brand new helmet and jumped on a boda boda. The boda took me to Ggaba Road where I waited 15 minutes for a matatu.
While I was standing there an man walked over. “Excuse me. Do you see that store over there?” He pointed at a store with pottery spilling out the front door.
I nodded.
“That’s my store. Shop there often.”
Umm..okay?! I said I would and hopped on a matatu.
I’d never taken a matatu to Kampala by myself and I failed to account for the fact that I was trying to get into the city at rush hour. Long story short it took me an hour to get to Kampala. I told Solomon I needed to get to an ATM to pull out money.
(Side note…to access money via an ATM in Uganda, your ATM needs to have a VISA logo on it. The day before I left for Africa I realized mine said Mastercard. Anand, being the ever-wonderful friend gave me his VISA ATM and that’s how I’ve been accessing money. So far…so good.)
We tried 3 different banks and none of them would let me withdraw money. Sweet. I got on the bus to Hoima, the furthest destination I’d ever been from my home in Floral Park, with $15 USD on me. Sweeter.
Solomon and I ran over to the bus terminal, which is in a decrepit section of town (unpaved streets) next to New Taxi Park. We missed the 8:30 bus to Hoima, but we got the 9:00. Solomon didn’t want to get on the bus because he thought it might offend my senses. It was a very old (1970’s?) bus without air conditioning or really any other luxuries. We sat down all the way in the back. Just above our heads on the other side of the aisle was a speaker that looked like it had fallen out of the roof of the bus and been tied down with rubber ropes or something. They were blasting Madonna and Missy Elliot and the Pet Shop boys at 9:00 in the morning – haha.
The scenery wasn’t that spectacular…we stuck to highways the entire way. Solomon and I had great conversation though. He’s a great guy – he’s a recent graduate of Makere University (Uganda’s Harvard) where he majored in social work. His goal is to get a health degree from the US (not sure exactly what health degree) and then come back to Uganda to teach people how to take better care of themselves, which is a huge problem here.
Conversations between Solomon and I:
- The HUGE disparity between the US prices and Ugandan prices. Basically, I (and anyone reading this blog) are rich beyond belief by Ugandan standards. To give you an idea – my camera is 1,200,000 shillings…that’s four months of work for Solomon who is VERY well paid. I could buy a car for that much money.
- Almost nothing in Uganda is really new. He said that even if you buy something new its most likely been refurbished. Things such as cars…phones…TVs…etcetera. Something actually new is reserved for government officials who were typically the only ones that can afford them (sniff sniff...corruption?). Most of the matatus and buses were retired in other countries and shipped here.
- Blackberries, Ipods and Iphones are stupidly expensive here. Like 3 times the cost as they are in the US. They are basically impossible for people to afford here. When I asked Solomon if he’d ever seen an Iphone he laughed at me. He said things such as blackberries and Iphones are status symbols here and people will judge you for it. I told him he could have my old blackberry and he almost hit the roof he was so excited. I have since then regretted that promise as I’ve realized my blackberry has all my contacts in it…but I can’t renege. He’s been glowing ever since I told him. Oh well…
- “Kyeyo” is a Lugandan term for a Ugandan man or woman that leaves Uganda to do menial labor in the US (janitors...working at TATPC…etcetera). They are VERY much looked down upon. He said that many Ugandans still have a theory that once you get to the US you are “made in the shade” – even if you’re cleaning toilets. He knows people that graduated with PhDs and clean toilets in NYC.
- I asked him what his favorite food was – he said it was matoke (green plaintains mashed into a mashed potatoes type concoction). I was stunned. Its not tasty food.
- When Barack Obama was elected president all the Kenyans bragged that they would automatically get green cards. This fueled animosity between Ugandans and Kenyans. (Details on giving the entire country of Kenya green cards are forthcoming – haha).
- When Barack Obama was inaugurated it was declared a national holiday in Kenya.
- Nairobi is apparently a very bad place. Don’t think I’ll be visiting over there. He told me I’d be robber or killed in a day or two if I wasn’t careful.
We drove through the countryside without much ado. We would stop in random towns here and there over the course of the 3-hour drive. Vendors would run up to the windows and try to sell us stuff – as soon as they saw a mzungu they crowded underneath my window trying to sell me SIM cards and meat on a stick and G’Nuts…etc. I didn’t buy. Solomon told me the meat on the stick was rancid – I believe him.
We got into Hoima and I settled into my little motel room at Nsoma Motel. It’s pretty simple and pretty cheap. There was a Hoima-wide power outage so we couldn’t test to see if the lights worked (a standarn test in Uganda according to Solomon) (they ended up working – hurray!). It cost me $21 for THREE nights. The prior guest was even thoughtful enough to leave me a surprise in the toilet – yay! It looked like someone else was still living there (water on the desk, sandals on the floor, toilet surprise, bag of garbage). Fortunately my roommate never came back.
After getting settled in Solomon and I walked to THREE – yes THREE – different ATM’s until one finally worked. I was getting a tad nervous…Hoima with no loot is no bueno. We ate the staple Ugandan lunch lunch (matoke, beans, posho, spinach and two mountain dews) and it cost $2.50 for all that – for BOTH of us. Gotta love it. We had to go there because the first place charged $2.00 per person and that was too rich for Solomon’s blood. (I offered to pay – he wouldn’t have it).
On the way back to the motel we saw people cutting old car tires with razors and making the rubber into sandals. It was hysterical – they made these chic-looking sandals with HUGE truck treads on the bottom. Solomon said they lasted forever, and I don’t doubt him.
At Duhaga I spoke with the kind, soft-spoken assistant headmaster, Phillip (His picture is posted). We talked about the challenges of getting Ugandan children a good education –the problems of public schools versus private schools. The problem with parents pulling their children out of school so they can help with manual labor. We discussed his retirement – he’s leaving his post after teaching for 34 years – he wants to found a private school for disadvantaged children but doesn’t know if he’ll have enough money. At one point someone walked in and Phillip needed a pen. I lent him mine.
After he used it he looked up. “Oh, its such a nice pen. I do wish you had more.”
“You can keep it.”
He was very happy. They apparently only had ball-point pens in that school.
Afterwards Phillip and I walked all around the compound looking for the goats the students had purchased for their goat-rearing project. The goats cost 60,000 each and the students intended to cross-breed these hybrid (good goats) with the village goats (bad goats) to improve the breed.
A group of girls told us they had last seen the goats in the girls section of the boarding school. We walked to the girls section which was surrounded by 10 foot high fences and barbed wire.
“I guess the boys are really girl crazy here!” I joked.
“Ahh yes…You know how young love is.”
We walked ALL around the girls campus…past the shy girls who were doing their evening laundry. Finally we found the goats behind one of the buildings.
Afterwards I went to the class where Solomon was teaching. The lesson was using principles from Nelson Mandela’s life to learn leadership tactics.
At one point Solomon asked the students to list the “enemies of Uganda.” The students listed:
- Joseph Kony (leader of LRA that abducts children from towns not far from Hoima)
- Sudan
- Democratic Republic of Congo
- Kenya
And I just thought…how must it feel to literally be surrounded by your enemies. What if Canada and Mexico were malicious towards the US? How different would our mindset be? What are the long-term effects of this animosity and fear of neighboring countries? Yet another one of the challenges Africa faces.
At the end of class I introduced myself and what I’ll be doing at Educate. One of the students in the back of class raised his hand, “Well. Since you are European perhaps you can explain to us why the Europeans suppressed the blacks for hundreds of years.”
Gulp.
Umm. Uhh. Stammer. Stutter. I didn’t know how to answer this question without going over the student’s heads or offending someone. I gave a very boring answer, “people tend to group themselves with like-minded, similar people…and they don’t like what they don’t understand. So that’s why they chose to oppress the certain groups of Africans. They didn’t understand their culture.” Yeah…terrible.
Class dismissed!
Earlier in the day Phillip (assistant headmaster) told me that 99% of the students board at the school. Only the very poorest commute to school. On the way back to Hoima - Solomon and I walked with Ishmael – a girl too poor to afford school. We walked through the dark streets talking about the goat project, NYC, Barack Obama, Ugandan politics…etc. I asked her where her parents lived – she said both her parents died when she was young. I don’t know how they died. She lived with her aunt and her cousins in a small apartment in town. She invited us back to meet her Aunt – we accepted.
Her Aunt wasn’t home, but I did see Ishmaels house…very sad.
Afterwards Solomon and I went back to the SAME restaurant where we ate lunch and, yup, you guessed it – matoke, posho, beans, rice and soda. Honestly the people here eat this stuff almost constantly – it’s crazy.
During dinner Solomon told me most Ugandans don’t have refrigerators. He admitted he didn’t have one either – he was saving to buy one. He told me to “keep” meat he cures them with salt. To keep milk he boils it first – then it never rots. To preserve yogurt you put it in a bucket of water.
Afterwards we talked about Jay Z and Fifty Cent…just weird that Solomon knew my references to pop culture, but didn’t have a refrigerator. I felt bad he was so hard up for cash so I paid for dinner.
Got back to the hotel. They didn’t give me sheets. It looks like someone was murdered on my bed…huge stain in the middle (picture posted). Lovely.
Update – sitting in my room. The only working electric device is my computer and my cell phone. Complete blackout. How do I get myself into these situations? LOL. Looking out my window and city is completely black.
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