.12.
Africa is accustomed to losing power and water at any time of the day, any day of the week. I think the taps have gone dry about a dozen times since I have been here. No big deal. Substitute a couple of jerry cans and basins into the equation, and all is fine.
.7.
Kampala is known as the city of seven hills. … Seven hills that each hosts a palace for the king. Seven hill tops that present glorious views of the city below. Seven hills that threaten to terrify me every time I catch a ride on the back of a motorbike.
.800.
The cost of a rolex, a Uganda dish made at a tiny, shabby stand on the side of the street, should be around 800 Ugandan shillings. Of course, the mzungu price on my last purchase was increased to 1,000.
Chapatti wrapped around an omelet is something that I have not yet been able to perfectly recreate in the States.
.765.
The dirt roads that jut out from the main paved streets are dramatically uneven and littered with deep potholes, trash, and rocks. The drive across the surface rivals the Jeep commercials that boastfully show off the vehicle’s ability to handle off-roading. Try driving over 765 potholes on a quarter mile stretch. Watch your head.
.2.
To get home from the inner city of Kampala yesterday, it took about 2 hours. Our matatu failed to fill up with passengers along the way, so- we waited. We waited by the market, defeated by the better deals offered by competing matatu conductors who pulled ahead of us in line and recruited all who were headed to Ntinda. The waves of heat, dust, and exhaust filled our vehicle through the open windows, and I eventually gave up watching and hoping for passengers; closed my eyes, and accepted that we would be stranded for quite some time.
.52.
Despite sleeping with a mosquito net at night, I daily add to the collection of bug bites across my skin. It’s difficult to pin the exact number of irritating bites that speckle across my legs and face, but I’m going to estimate about 52.
Ugh. Ouch! [Slap] Make that 53…
1,265,739.
In Uganda, a white person has no name. The Swahili word for traveler instead replaces “Joe”, “Jane”, or “Dani”.
“MZUNGU!” is the word I hear as I walk to the store, down the alleyway where people loiter and lounge by the scrap yard. It’s almost become a runway catwalk to me, as I strut through that small stretch and endure catcalls and shouted Mzungu’s. I sometimes acknowledge the people shouting to me with a nod or an “Ogambaki”; other times I ignore it. The children run after me shrieking “Bye, Mzungu! Bye!”
I hear this term about 1,265,739 times a day.
3 comments:
Merry Christmas Eve! I am not sure of the time difference...ahead or behind but it is the morning of Christmas Eve here in Illinois. I know that you will have a blessed, holy experience today. You are the stranger in a strange land and you do have a place to lay your head yet in your work you are also "welcoming the stranger." Christ is present in all and in welcoming all into your life you welcome Him.
Peace to you on this day!
dani, wonderful post. putting it into numbers makes your experience more real and powerful for someone sitting in her cozy office in her MANCE (the MANCE) in the US. Thanks!
Thinking of you on this Christmas. My skype will be on all day, so if you want to chat, let me know. I will look for you!
One more thing: Munzu... is this a pet name or a harsh name? Is it your new nickname when you get back to the states?
Classic. Love the market description. Despite the fact that foreign markets are aways a huge hassle, I know they provide travelers with memories that are difficult to fade.
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