Written on Saturday. Sitting here with my hoof up – as one friend has called it, I’m listening to the wind rustle and the first spattering of rain. Soon I’ll make an effort to get presentable for dinner with the Country Director of Peace Corps, a rare treat. What to wear – I’ve brought two t-shirts, two pairs of Capri pants and a skirt, most of it is dirty and none worthy of dinner with more civilized folk. But my host while I’m in medical has accumulated quite an array of clothes from people who have been graced by her care. She has managed to come up with a blouse that matches my skirt and I think that will work. Hair needs cutting and I’ve left my salon accouterments in Gulu. But! Help! I’ve fallen from grace and can’t get up! And from one night of sleeping without the net, there is a large mosquito bite on my face. Vanity being what it is – even in Africa, this is humbling… But then, the sawed off sock covering the non-bandaged part of the foot is such a fashion statement, how can anything else compete? And the crutches are a nice touch – if not for walking then for weapons.
Anyway – I’m looking forward to meeting some new folk and have had quite a week at ground-zero aka Peace Corps Headquarters. All the gossip and politics are there and it’s rich fodder for an otherwise gossip starved volunteer, far from the world of Charlie Sheens, the Demi Moore and Ashton Kutchers malaise and oh yes – US Politics. But the contact with the international realm is much more real here and Ugandans are very news conscious. They often know more about what’s going on in the US and Europe than I do – a sad statement indeed. But many of us are here precisely to detach from all the drama.
Back from the dinner now, it was very nice. And I was totally surprised to find our host and hostess had made a huge mostly American (he is ex Peace Corps and she is Armenian) meal of Chili (the real thing – and a Texan knows Chili), potato salad, tabbouleh (Ok not American) and slaw. There was also Armenian Apricot? vodka, a fabulous banana bread torta and CHOCOLATE CHIP OATMEAL COOKIES brought by another Armenian friend who had great tales to tell about her travels in the US.
The US is just as odd in many ways to a traveler as going elsewhere is for us.
I’ve certainly eaten better here than I would at “home” in Gulu. Betsy’s a good cook and feeds me more than I should eat, all the time saying it’s for the foot! Yeah – well tell the hips that…
I am off to visit with one of Betsy’s cancer patients who is in a local hospice.