A NEW WORLD

I need to preface this by saying that no matter what I write, I do not have the words to describe this incredible place. Uganda is unlike anywhere I have ever been and my words cannot do justice to the experience of walking into a place so amazingly foreign.

I arrived late Friday night and walked off the plane into a very dark African night. They have rolling blackouts here to distribute electricity more evenly but even when the electricity is on...it's so dark at night. There were swarming bugs everywhere,I was convinced they were mosquitoes and resigned myself to catching malaria my first night in town. Turns out they were swamp gnats, not terrible to eat which I discovered while running through the backstreets of Entebbe the next morning. Entebbe is next to Lake Victoria which attracts alot of funky bugs and frogs-many of which meet there end on the roads here. People drive crazy fast here-last night I took a Motattoo (taxi)-we hit potholes so hard, I was convinced the bottom of the van would fall off. I tentatively asked someone if there were driving laws in Uganda, they assured me there were...hmmmm.

It's been overwhelming these past few days. There is so much to see and take in. All of my senses are assailed with foreign experiences. It smells like burning paper, it is incredibly dusty and people are everywhere, Luganda is being spoken but many people speak some English. The people are very friendly, they do not say hello..there greeting is 'how are you?' I met a woman named Caroline today...she is a social studies teacher at a local school. I told her I used to teach social studies in America and she was very excited. She has agreed to meet with me at her school, once a week, to help me learn Luganda (the local language). I will be moving into my village Nagallama tomorrow and will undoubtedly learn much Lugandan, speaking with my compound-mates but I would like some formal instruction as well. It's also good that I can pay someone for a service here-there is EXTREME poverty everywhere.

The homes are made of brick or cement with tin roofs. Latrines are outside and consist of a stall with a hole in the ground. There is a small room attached to the house with a drain in it-this is where people shower. You fill up a bucket of water and go to it. My first bucket shower was pathetic-pretty much just a wipe and dry...the water jugs were empty and I'm not sure yet where to get more water. My hand sanitizer has come in handy.

I've spent Saturday and today meeting other volunteers and being shown around. I did a shop yesterday for my home supplies-toilet paper, washcloth and cup (for rinsing). Couldn't help but compare it to my Target runs when I moved into a new place in the States. Last night I went with a group of westerners into Kampala to a roast pork restaurant. We sat around a table, lit by candle, underneath a straw roof and ate with our fingers from dishes of pork that was cooked in a pit nearby. One of the volunteers requested fries so our waiter left the restaurant, bought fries and brought them back. Withholding commentary at this point, just describing the experiences.

This morning met a VSO (British Peace Corps) worker at a pool in a nearby village and witnessed a mass baptism. Wanted so much to know what they were thinking, did they believe in what they were doing, etc... Want to be in the hearts and minds of these people. I'm chomping at the bit to learn the language. So far I know the word for white person 'Muzungu'. They like to call me that when I walk by, apparently they think it's funny if you yell back 'black person.' Color and racial differences seems to be much more matter-of-fact here.

My volunteer role will begin tomorrow. I'm still pretty unsure how to be of service in this wonderful place. I'm going into camcorder mode for my first month here-just taking it all in. Hopefully I will be able to assess what the needs are and how I might be useful.

I used to think that I wanted to save the world when I grew up. My heroes have been Nelson Mandela, Ghandi, Mother Teresa, etc... people who moved nations or saved many lives. I don't feel the same way anymore. I still admire heroes but accept that I don't need to be one. I cannot save the world, nor am I sure that it needs saving.

America is seen as this wonderful place, a model for some nations to aspire to. America has so much money, decent healthcare, blah, blah, blah but are Americans happier than Ugandans? It has been explained to me already that Ugandas live today. Period. They do not plan for the future, they do not rush through their lives...their life is right now. Relationships are the most important thing after survival. Living in the moment, letting myself just be-that is how I aspire to live. I read books, practice meditation, do hours of yoga-searching for now. A man named Frank picked me up from the airport. On our way to his hostel, he told me that he was happy with his life here-wouldn't want to live in a western world. He has enough money to live on and the weather is always nice. Wow. I wonder if many Ugandans feel this way. Clearly these are complicated issues, hardly black and white but my ideas are being challenged and I welcome it.

Wanting to save the world all these years provided me with lots of passion to help, to do, to change... How can I find my passion again now that I understand that no matter what I do, people will struggle, lives will be hard, the world won't be 'saved.' I don't even know what a better world would look like. Now I simply hope that I can be an effective cog in the machine of people trying to improve lives, one at a time. But I'm still not as passionate as I once was, a calm acceptance is settling in that this is the way the world is. How can I regain that passion and belief that what I do in this life matters, that helping people matters?

I came here to teach. Class is definitely in session but I am not the teacher.