the kampala diaries: day 14, celebrity.

Well, it’s official people: You can take the girl out of America, but you can’t take America out of the girl!

Today was a bit of a bummer in that there wasn’t much America around me to celebrate. Although I did hear Justin Timberlake on the radio once… We went out to another district to collect data for one of my professor’s projects, and I have to admit- it was GREAT to get out of the apartment finally. It took us an hour to get out of Kampala (think New York City without stop signs, crosswalks, or stop lights). When we finally got to the taxi park, we had about 3 million people trying to sell us things that we didn’t want. We were sitting in a mutatu, and one guy opened the window to reach his products through the window… still wasn’t interested, although I appreciated his persistence. One guy even said, “Hey, are you American? This is American bread! Buy it!” To which Bethany replied, “I know! American bread is the worst! I mean, if it were Italian bread or French bread, then maybe, but…” Haha!

Unique Restaurant- and their faulty advertisements :)

The hour and a half mutatu ride took about half an hour less due to the crazy driving, which made me feel sick, but got our team there almost on time. The day was filled with going to nonprofit organizations to take pictures of their documents. At lunch, we went with our guide Wilburforce (yes, that’s his real name) to a restaurant called “Unique Restaurant.” I had beans and rice, and actually enjoyed it. I eat a lot less here, so by the time we made it to dinner that night, I didn’t need very much to tie me over.

Towards the end of the day, we spent a long time walking on the side of the road back to the NGO forum. The problem with no sidewalks is that you have to constantly watch where you are going, and kind of watch your back. The boda drivers are incredibly skilled at snatching things from your hands while they are moving. Also, the mutatues and the semi trucks seriously speed by you at breakneck speed, and it kicks up a TON of dust… and basically makes you feel like you’re going to fall over.

Getting home took even longer than getting there. I think my patience goes away really quickly when I’m tired… and other than the cute little kids who run up to you singing mzungu, I could really work on my response to the men who should mzungu at me. Some curse and then say mzungu (only when you’re in their way), but others must think that it’s some compliment. I could work on taking it that way, but if you know me at all, I’ve never been into guys who hit on me because of my appearance first. I’ve noticed my patience wear thin when all I hear all day is “Mzungu! My sister! Mzungu!” I guess my thinking is that I would never go after a man simply because of his skin color, and if that’s grounds for attraction to someone, then that attraction is pretty shallow. For all of the cat calling that I’ve heard in the last two weeks, all I can think is, “You don’t really know me.” “That’s not really the way to get my attention.”

I know that we’re kind of novelties here, but it’s made me think a lot of the reasons people might notice me. I feel like we’re treated like celebrities a lot (that is until the taxi conductors try to dupe us and give us the mzungu price), but I want people to notice me for my ideas, for my testimony, and for my countenance- not my appearance, my skin color, or my figure.

Okay, off my soapbox. I’ll work on getting a better attitude this week.

As soon as we got home that night, I changed into my turquoise skinny jeans and my Washington Nationals hat. I was gross and sweaty, and the water was out so there was no chance of shower (in fact the water outage lasted about 36 hours)… typical. Despite all that, I HAD to celebrate America, even if it was only in that very small way. I may or may not have downloaded an episode of The Bachelorette, just to get my little America in, and corny as it sounds, I couldn’t stop smiling the whole time. It was good to feel like at least something from home got to follow me to Uganda, even if it’s only a silly t.v. show. 

I also Skyped my family and heard all about their adventures in Provo that day (Provo Independence Day is the BEST!) It was so fun to hear from them. I miss these goofy people!