The good news is I can now almost remember and pronounce my new Ugandan name, Kemigisha (ke-MI-ji-sha). The bad news is Ugandans now laugh even harder when I introduce myself in Runyankore (the local language). Didn’t think that was possible. And if you’ve ever been laughed at by a Ugandan you know how discouraging it can be. Luckily I’ve become quite accustomed to making an ass out of myself on a daily basis. In fact I’ve forgotten what it feels like not to feel awkward in every single social interaction… like today when my male neighbor informed me I’m the perfect size because I’m “very portable.” You see, Uganda is nearly the exact size of Oregon but has 27 million more people, so portability is key. He went on to warn me against drinking too much milk because it would decrease my portability. It’s just nice to know someone is looking out for me!
My life in Uganda is not at all what I thought it would be even though I really didn’t know what to expect. A perfect example: Two nights ago I found myself eating bacon and potato bread at 9 o’clock at night with four Irish people and I stopped and thought to myself, ‘What is going on here?’ I thought I came to Uganda prepared for anything but I could have never, ever foreseen that moment. Let me backtrack… Two weeks ago when all the volunteers were meeting their counterparts and supervisors I saw a blonde women pouring herself coffee among all the Ugandans and thought 'Wow, that tourist is either really lost or really ballsy.' But it turns out that tourist is actually the Irish administrator of the hospital where I’ll be working for the next two years. And it turns out that tourist, Patricia, has many Irish friends who are here in Uganda for various reasons. Consequently, I’ve been getting a very unique cross-cultural experience, just not the kind I was anticipating.
Having an Irish counterpart (and neighbor) is not without it’s benefits… sure I may be missing out on vital language training but just last week I found myself listening to Amy Winehouse and sipping South African white wine while Patricia made me spaghetti bolognaise. In the middle of Uganda. Or at least in the middle of southwest Uganda, which is better than the real middle anyway. I didn’t exactly come to Africa dreaming of Amy Winehouse and thick Irish accents but it’s been a pretty amazing experience so far!
This week I'm going to begin teaching health at a local primary school and I'm nervous and excited. More nervous than excited, really. I walked to the school yesterday with a random villager that I befriended, intodroduced myself to the headmaster and asked if I could come teach and he immediately gave me a weekly timeslot. He wasn't even particularly interested in what I was going to teach. It was strange. So this week I think I'll just start with who I am, where I'm from and why I'm here... although sometimes I don't have that last point completely figured out.
I always have appreciated how portable you are. Good luck with teaching your kids! Sounds exciting!
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