My Typical Life

Truly, I don't think the proper words even exist to explain the situation I have just endured except to say it was "typically African". To understand, appreciate, and see the hilarity of it all some imagining must take place. Okay, so imagine four muzungus (2 Americans, 1 Brit, and 1 German, ranging in age from 25-34) who have just come from work, dressed in skirts and blouses of the sort, jump into a taxi to the one and only shopping mall in Uganda. After refraining from all the temptations of consumerism, I walk out with some pizza, a can of tuna, and a bottle of wine. My friends didn't have as much self discipline as myself and purchased shopping carts full of lamps, batiks, statues, and other obscure items to decorate an apartment. Due to my lack of purchases, I headed to the taxi stand with intentions of collecting a reliable, decent sized taxi to carry the goods and my friends home safely. I opted for the hatchback, yellow, metered taxi and strictly instructed him to pull up to the very front of Garden City Shopping Mall and wait for my friends. I ensured him it would only be two minutes. After three arguments with the security guard over blocking traffic and twenty minutes later, my first friend appeared with a shopping cart of goods. We carefully filled the taxi nearly taking up all the empty space. The taxi driver anxiously started up the engine and stepped on the gas. I screeched STOP and informed him that we were still waiting for my other two friends. Ten minutes later they appeared with carts stuffed to the brim, nearly overflowing, filled with lamp posts, shades, light bulbs, and of course, cases of wine, all essential to survival in the pearl of Africa. The taxi itself was now overflowing with items literally hanging out the window. The taxi driver a.k.a Captain Asia, as he called himself, headed out of the chaos of the shopping mall parking lot only to enter a more chaotic traffic jam. He had told me he needed to stop for gas and I agreed as long as he didn't start the meter until after he filled up. On the way to the petrol station, as they call it here, we found ourselves in what we thought was the worlds worse traffic jam, really it was just a red light. My friend spontaneously decided to buy a newspaper as she saw the 9 year old boy pass selling them. The second he handed her the paper the light turned green and off we went. The problem being she had not paid the paper boy yet. He started running alongside the cab in crazy traffic and her anxiety caused her to just start throwing coins out the window. This was the beginning of the craziest taxi ride I have yet encountered in Uganda. As we made our way around the round about and up a small yet significant hill towards the petrol station, we, of course, ran out of gas. The taxi driver was afraid to enlighten us of our reality, but we already knew and we thought it was absolutely hilarious and so typically African. All four of us were eager to jump out of the cab and use all our strength to push the damn thing up the hill. Now this is where the imagining, visualization, needs to take place. Here we have four muzungus pushing a taxi, dressed in work attire, with lamps and what not hanging out the windows up a hill in the middle of downtown Kampala. We are barely able to do the taxi driver, who is trying to steer, any good as we are all laughing so hard we are nearly pissing our pants. All the while bodas, matatus, and every other form of transportation are honking, swearing, yelling, and everything else you can imagine at us. After about five minutes we all practically fall to the ground due to exhaustion and laughter and we had barely moved an inch. The greatest part of it all is none of us felt frustrated or angry. In fact, it was one of my greatest experiences in Africa yet. Captain Asia, who must be used to the situation, calmly walked to the gas station and returned with hardly any gas. As he returned to the taxi and poured only half a liter of gas into the tank through a rolled up newspaper, we asked him if it would be enough to get home. He ensured us that if we took the route home that was mostly downhill we would be fine. We eventually, nearly two hours later, made it home safely and were left with a fantastic memory. What seems like an awful situation is really the most desirable experience a traveler can ask for. It was incredible and I will remember today forever.

As far as, the rest of my life here in Uganda, well I have found myself at the gym a lot as I have committed to climbing in Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. In addition to the gym I have joined a running club on Monday nights all in part of my preparation for the big climb. My newly found friends and I have also agreed to drive to Rwanda at the end of October for the purpose of seeing Rwanda, but also just for the shits and giggles that will accompany three muzungus driving through Africa. Tomorrow I am off to the goat races which I am sure will lead to more unforgettable memories and interesting blogs.

Oh yeah, and school, the reason why I came to Uganda, is going extraordinarily well. While I do have to adjust my teaching style, slightly, to the National English Curriculum, it has all been a positive learning experience. We have spent the past two weeks planning curriculum and preparing our classrooms. I am also in charge of running an extra-curricular club, free to my choice where I have chose "Creative Writing for Change". My intentions are to run a creative writing club where at the end of the year we produce a "publication" which we sell to parents, etc. and donate the profits to a local organization. It should all be interesting .

Living in a new country always means enduring a series of highs and lows upon arrival. I have definitely experienced both thus far and can predict that there will be a series more of highs and lows. But really, the highs greatly outweigh the lows and that is why I am addicted to my gypsy lifestyle. Uganda, Uganda, Uganda, for now it is my home and it all feels so natural. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else.