Life as a Zoo Creature in the Twilight Zone

Ah – are any of you out there old enough to remember the Twilight Zone episode where a man ends up in a different universe, is greeted by strange creatures who treat him well and even build him a house?  Come on….   I know some of you saw that one.  Awakening in his new digs and surprised by the generosity of his hosts, he surveys the joint. Opening the curtains of a large picture window, he sees an expanse of fence, on the other side of which are the locals observing MAN {that’d be him} new addition to the Zoo:  Species –  Homo Sapiens –  in His Natural Habitat.

Well there were flashes of that last night for me as I met some new friends (a newly transplanted USAID couple) at the Indian Restaurant near my house.  So near in fact, that the gaggle of little girls who have finally stopped tormenting me on the ally leading home – found me at the restaurant.  There we were enjoying a quite conversation under the Bat-tree (yes – bats swooping in and out), when the gawking-gaggle-of-girls showed up.   They waved – I waved and smiled. They lined up along the fence, hands curled into the mesh, noses poking through the spaces watching our every move.  They stayed.  They yammered at me – “you give me…” and then it turned ugly.  I was polite for about five minutes into the taunting.     This is unusual in my experience here.   We’ve all been “observed,” but it’s always been a little more innocent.  The ring leader must be about nine and I finally suggested that they go “that way.”  One said, “First we just come inside.”  On no…  The new friends were not amused and were getting uncomfortable and so was I.   I replied “No – first you go home,”  this accompanied by “the look” I have had to adapt to let them know I am serious.  So they straggled  off, but one of the younger ones grown brave began calling out a taunt I think I’m glad I didn’t understand.  Welcome to the Zoo – and by the way – you’re the entertainment.  This never happens with the adults here, who are very respectful.  For the most part it doesn’t happen with the kids either. After a few giggles, they are gone.  But these little girls have all the makings of a street gang.  In talking to them a few weeks ago about “manners” I guess I forgot to include gawking at the restaurant…    This might have the makings of a Miss Manners Does Uganda column. 
 
But other than that, life here bumbles along.  My friend Karla who was assigned not one, but TWO horrible NGO’s to work with  (the one who went to the lovely town of Ft. Portal to work with an NGO where her discoveries resulted in her being told to “be careful, people get poisoned for less,”) decided she wouldn’t wait around to experience the truth of that.  She has spent the last year giving her all, offering productive suggestions and projects all to no avail.  Peace Corps really dropped the ball on this one and we are all sad to see her go.   BUT – and Karla, I know you will appreciate this – she has relinquished her title as the WalMart Pancake Diva and sent me her remaining pancake mix!  By Post Bus no less! Thank you Karla and  we will toast you this weekend with pancakes and fake maple syrup.  Admittedly,  we will also indulge in some envy as you will certainly be basking in the luxury of a hot bath, fresh linens and good food somewhere in Zurich.
 
On a different note altogether, I’ve had an article about my Peace Corps experience published online at  The Journal of Humanitarian Affairs (http://greenheritagenews.com/living-with-the-power-of-choice/) if you’d like to check it out. 

 

The Marching Band has “finished,” turning over its share of air space to the Muslim Call to Prayer. Oh – in answer to the question about the tenacity of the marching band, this is a group of local folks who no doubt play for fun, but also make money with their music.  People hire them for all manner of celebrations and events. Remember the Male Circumcision parade?  Yep!   And the Hand Washing Day parade?  Same folks.  They practice every day and always end with the Ugandan National Anthem. What they lack in musicality, they more than make up for in enthusiasm. They still make me smile.