The Art of Being Idle

The pace in Uganda is very slow.  Frustrating slow.  From walking to eating to timekeeping, everything moves with fluidity and an absolute lack of impetus.  It’s maddening.

 Our normal day at Keframa begins the promise of an 8:30am departure.  Usually we are on the bike between 9:15-9:30.   That gets us to school around 10.  Enough time to greet the entire staff, settle in and precisely nothing before its tea time at 11.  We then work from about 11:30 – 2:00 when we break for lunch.  Light work is done from 2-3, and then we usually sit in the yard and chat with the students.  While it may seem like ineffective work day, without emails binging and phones ringing constantly you can actually get a lot done in that short window.  We are also limited by the lack of electricity – laptop batteries only last so long. 

 We usually return home around 4:30-5ish and have some tea.  From there it’s a long stretch until dinner at 9pm, with only the highlight of a cold “shower” to break it up.  For me, it is a struggle to be this idle.  Days are long and filled with a lot of porch sitting and chicken watching.  I did have the pleasure of witnessing a rooster (referred to as a “cock” here which childishly makes me giggle) chase down, tackle and sex up a hen right before my eyes yesterday.  So there’s that.  I need a better book….

 To combat our boredom, Chelsea and I have taken to working out in our bedroom.  This puzzles the children, who like to peer at us from under the curtain and giggle.  Augustine has suggested we go for a run on the main road, but I am not yet confident enough in my anti-kidnapping skills. 

 Sitting outside this much also requires a vigilant application of bug spray.  Although we haven’t really seen any mosquitoes, a girl at the school, a pregnant family friend and their own son Justin have all had malaria in the past month.  I mistakenly got some of my 40% DEET bug lotion on my lip the other day, and was terrified to discover that it made my face go numb.  MGH colleagues – please find a cure for a cancer.  Because it’s coming my way.

 On Friday, Augustine suggested we take a break from Keframa and go visit its’ parent school – the Christian Institute for Advanced Education.  This is the school that Sam, one of our initial drivers, is the director of.  The Institute provided the initial funding for Keframa, and has continued to be one of its most steadfast supporters.  Although not an official employee, Augustine remains close with the organization and is actually on some of the founding paperwork.

 Arriving at the Institute, we were introduced to a number of folks.  The most notable was the Registrar, David.  His first question was whether we were democrats or republicans.  Second question:  “Are you not afraid of the black man?” 

 He then ushered us into his office where we had a lengthy discussion the housing market, availability of land, welfare and the social security system.  After answering thousands of questions about the coldness of snow, it was a pleasure to discuss something, anything, else about my country.

 From there it was off to the new nursing school being built by the Institute.  It is an impressive structure complete with a real library, computer lab and skills lab.  Most important – it has an actual toilet!!!  Although not functional at the moment, and located randomly in a hallway, Chelsea and I were both salivating.  

 That night Augustine and Susan told us they had “overnight duty.”  Apparently, it is common practice for churches to have all night dancing and prayer sessions.  Both Augustine and Susan were scheduled to speak at their respective churches that night, and would be leaving around 10pm.  Neither returned until the wee hours of the morning.  The children were left asleep in the bedroom.  I get the impression that would have happened whether we were present at the house or not.  Communal child rearing at its finest.

With our hosts out late partying it up for Jesus, that left Chelsea and I the luxury of sleeping in on Saturday.  And by that I mean 9am.  After a lethargic morning, Chelsea and I decided to set out on a big adventure– a trip to the internet café in town.  This trip served several purposes:  fast internet to allow for Skyping with the family, the opportunity to sneak to a restaurant we had seen promising pizza and a chance for some down time.  Our hosts are incredibly welcoming, but the amount of small talk required is exhausting.  Particularly when there are constant visitors with varying degrees of English.  And I’ll be honest...the children are getting to me. 

 

Downtown Lira

 

 The internet café turned out to be a glorious mecca.  Not only was there food – pizza, burgers, sandwiches and other recognizable items.  There was beer.  Sweet, sweet beer.  I don’t even care that it was a shitty pilsner.  But the holy grail….a flushing toilet.  A real, live toilet!  And a mirror!  I haven’t seen a mirror since we arrived.  We stuffed ourselves full of pizza and sipped  beer.  It was a celebrated return to sanity. 

 It was so magnificent in fact that we quickly lost track of time.  Suddenly it was 7pm and getting dark.  With a 45 minute walk ahead of us, we feared the worst.  A game time decision was made to hire our first boda boda.  The process was surprisingly easy, but we soon discovered we didn’t know the address.  A combination of shouts, gestures and vague landmarks landed us successfully back about 100 yards from our home.  We may have been charged double the going rate, but we were so grateful to arrive safely – and before  dark – that we gladly paid the extra $1.

 Bonus, one beer apparently is now enough for me to actually enjoy the usually terrifying boda rides.  No Koala clinging for me this time – I was letting my hair fly in the wind!