No travel log today, unless one considers this a travel log of the nooks-and-crannies of my mind. Could be dangerous going there. Reminds me of a time when a client of mine in West Virginia, living at the edge of an old, flooded quarry invited me to go canoeing with
Raining…. Glorious long, slow rain foretold by black skies and great gusts of wind, accompanied by rolling thunder. We’ve had a lot of this and at some point I will tire of it, but it takes me back to the excited anticipation of hurricanes in Louisiana and the quickening
Early morning here. This one is quiet – oh so blissfully quiet. The rainy season does that. Since I was able to sleep without earplugs last night, I can awaken to these subtle sounds as slow drips become a soft patter on the tin roof. Jenna (housemate) is away and
It’s been one of those “interesting” days. Just about the time the unusual (hauling water, living by candle light, smacking white ants, flushing with bath water…) becomes usual, something comes along that tweaks the senses – or the sensibilities. A little of both drifted by today. The first came after
“We have a mouse,” the text from my housemate says…. “Have you named it?” I reply. “Skid.” “Did you or did he – skid, that is?” I asked. At the time I was half-way through my first solo bus ride back to Gulu. I mention “solo” because I had been dreading this
It finally happened… after a pretty decent day yesterday which started with a hike across town for a Cappuccino and an apple tart (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) my trusty Mac (called a dinosaur by some – its being a 2008 version) was put on life support today and has
Everything around here is just different – even things that would appear somehow the same – as in the language, which is English, but different somehow. Even the word somehow takes on meaning that is uniquely Ugandan – meanings almost, about, the-same-but-not-really, sometime, maybe, your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine, makes-no-sense etc. So everyday, there’s a
Well that’s not entirely true…. there IS water, sometime, but it has been cause for some minor panic. “Water is finished – again,” as they say and we are back to hauling it in. At one point, there was even a run on drinking water sold in the ubiquitous plastic
Some days not much happens here – and that would be a plus. Everyone, including supervisors has been in a pissy mood because of the heat. A friend mentioned to me that I talk a lot about what is happening over here, but not much about how I FEEL. Well,
There are many of these around – and that tells you something. Here’s another based on first hand experience… Thanks to fellow PCVs – you get a broader perspective 😉 Read it and weep, laugh and wonder, “Just how nuts do you have to be to do this?”
Aaaaah – Gulu Town. I remember this. Hot, dusty, noisy, dirty – but temporarily “home” nevertheless. Most of us have left the surrounds of IST and points in between and have returned “home.” Climbed on a Homeland Bus this morning and landed a decent seat thanks to another PCV
“I speak Acholi a little…” And at least well enough to pass the second round of testing. It was about as badly handled as something like that can be – our language trainers being the only bright spot in an otherwise dark journey. The whole remaining group of 40