i have a door!

I spent Easter with a few other volunteers about 45 minutes from my house. We got a little sunburned, as happens here on the equator, ate delicious food cooked by Heather, drank room temperature tequila and krest (a sprite-ish wannabe), watched Anastasia, and passed out by 10 pm. When it gets dark at 7:30, and as a girl you have to lock yourself in pretty much by that point, staying up late loses some of its appeal. (I went to bed at NINE last night and it felt amazing.) Anyway, as I was laying in a bed that was not my own, I thought about how I, in no way, have that "ugh, I just wish I was HOME" feeling. Mostly, I think, because I don't have a home right now. It's way less sad that it sounds, so don't feel too badly for me just yet. A lot of times when I'm away for long periods of time, all I want is my own bed, in my own room, but I haven't had that for a long time, so I'm kind of content bouncing from place to place, packing an overnight bag to hang out with some cool people I know, crossing my fingers that my belongings, which have been strewn all over this country in the middle of Africa in various storage rooms, hotels, home stays, etc., are safe and sound. Maybe this is part of what Peace Corps instills in a person. I know for damn sure I can pack lighter that I have been able to in the past.

 Day 1, less of a home than a room with my things in it. 

I think the saddest part about all of that was that, technically, I have a home now. I have fourish rooms all to myself for the next two years, but they don't feel like "me" yet. When I got back to Lira on Monday morning, I went shopping for a few more things I needed (rope for laundry, clothespins, plates, silverware, bleach, hand soap, and a gas tank for my stove). The gas tank was way to heavy to even consider carrying the 6k back to Boroboro (not that I'd wanted to walk it anyway) so I called my principal/next door neighbor who said he could pick me up on the way back. The afternoon was spent watching two carpenters make a mess of my room as they knocked a hole in the wall between my sitting room and bedroom. I wish they had let me know it was going to be a messy affair, because I totally would have, oh, I don't know, zipped up my luggage. Closed my cabinet doors. Put away my iPod. Any number of things that would have avoided the clusterfuck of DUST that I had to deal with when the ordeal was through. My Ugandan broom is a joke when trying to deal with this, I'm going to have to buy a giant squeegee (yes, we have those here) and just dump water on my floor and squeegee it out... but not till they cut the second door into the kitchen.

Denis the Carpenter, with his chisel and block of wood. 

Hoooooly mess

My doorway!!!! (standing in the bedroom, looking into the sitting room)

I spent last night kind of rearranging my things after trying my best to clean it all up (some things might never be the same). It felt a lot more like home after I had access to more than one room at a time, and with a mirror up over my dresser. This morning I walked around the village with the principal and was introduced to the Bishop and the LC1 (the Local Council Chairperson, highest office on the most local level). I then returned home and washed my mosquito net and sheets, since they were embedded with concrete dust still. Apparently my water doesn't work until the afternoon, so I had to wait until then to rinse everything (I'd collected enough rainwater the night before to wash, but not rinse. Yes, I collect rain water. I actually just put my buckets out, hope they don't get stolen!) I also did dishes, ate some ramen noodles, and finished another book. (13!) The carpenter came back to frame the doorway (they cut the hole with only a hammer and chisel, it took like five hours) with wood and cement, and again they made somewhat of a mess. The art of throwing cement into a gap between a chiseled out doorway and a wooden frame must be a tough one to master. There was cement everywhere (this was after I was like.. hey, should I move my things today, is it going to be messy? and was answered, no you leave them, it's ok.) Oh, Uganda.

There is a gnarly looking storm a-brewin', and I wish I wasn't such a scaredy cat that I don't want to hang out in my yard and watch it. Speaking of cats, three stories. One, there was an intense cat-fight outside last night, I really wanted to go check it out, but my mosquito net proves to be enough of a barrier to keep me in bed unless it's something like I've had to pee for 4 hours and my bladder is screaming in pain. Two, today I heard another mad cat fight while I was sitting outside reading, except it was followed by peels of children's laughter. The angry cat noises/laughter alternated back and forth enough times to make me think a cat was being tortured by children somewhere around me. I wanted to go investigate, but I don't think I have a place in the community enough yet to go up to someones house and demand they treat animals with kindness. Three, a cat sat by the edge of my yard this evening and yowled so so sadly. It was a pretty tuxedo cat, and when I went to check it out, I was told that the cat is stubborn and steals things. I think I will put out some dried fish for it and see if I can't get myself a pet. Or better yet, see if it has kittens somewhere for me to steal. This will surely end well, there are no downsides.

Also, my internet is suuuuper slow out here in the village, and I'm really lucky that I have it at all... that being said, pictures are not going to be uploaded or emailed for a while, until I can get into town and be closer to civilization. Sorry :(

Love and miss you all!

Liz

I woke up about an hour ago, after my first night in my new home. It wasn't as traumatic as it had the potential to be, my first night in the middle of Uganda, pretty much all alone. At training Rachelle told us that it might be a night to lock ourselves and just cry, something it seemed like she did two years ago when she first got to site. I locked myself in when it got dark, but no crying, amazingly (I'm a crier).

I went to Lira yesterday afternoon, after what felt like one of the 4 longest days of my life, and bought two basins, a jerrycan, two cooking pots, toilet paper, peanut butter, rolls, two bowls, ramen noodles, a big ladle, a mattress, a bigger mosquito net (double bed, what what), and four screw hooks to set up said mosquito net. I did not manage to buy a gas can for my stove, but will try again today. I made it home about 3 minutes before a huge storm and really had to pee. I tried to brave my latrine for the first time but there were spiders and a gecko and a moth that kept ambushing me, so I called uncle and went inside and peed in a basin (not the weirdest thing I've peed in while in Uganda).

I rearranged my room, set up my bed, and hung a map of Uganda on the wall. It's probably right where the new door between the bedroom and the sitting room will go, so it's definitely not permanent, I just wanted something up. As I was moving things around, I discovered a leak in my ceiling, great. My principal came over and invited me for dinner and I let him know about it. I declined the dinner offer because I'd bought a couple things to eat in town, and was so tired that all I wanted to do was finish up and lay down. I didn't feel like being "on" and social again. I had to explain that I'm not going to church tomorrow, or ever really, and I hope I did it tactfully. Sometimes (read: a lot of the times) Ugandans can be very persistent when you give an answer they don't want to hear. I haven't gone to church regularly since I was in high school, and don't really plan on it while I'm here. It's such a religious culture though that the concept of not being religious, or even not having a religion doesn't make sense to them sometimes. I would probably be more relaxed about it and willing to go once in a while if I knew that it would be understood when I didn't want to go. Maybe I'm just being way too stubborn.

I'm super pumped that I have power at my site, however, I have this nifty little gadget called a powermatic that monitors the current coming through and shuts it off if there is a surge or fluctuation that would damage my electronics. When the power is unstable, the light is red, when it calms down, the light changes to yellow while it monitors it for a bit, and then if the power is stable it changes to green to let it through. In the 15 hours that I have been here, the light has only changed to green three times, for a total of about five minutes. Fuck. I can totally plug things in, but I'm knowingly taking a risk of blowing everything up and rendering them useless. Gotta solve this, because what's the use in having electricity if I can't use it?

It's going to take a while to arrange my house, there are so many things that I'm going to have to improvise and make up as I go along. For instance, I don't have a kitchen sink, but I do know that somehow I can put a tap in the bottom of a jerrycan and put it over a basin. But I have no idea how to do that and my limited Lango mixed with Lira residents' limited English = we have no idea what we're talking about. There should be a door soonish between my bedroom and sitting room that will let me move about my house at night, but it's not there yet, so ALL of my things are in my bedroom for now. Water pools on the floor of my latrine and soaked a roll of toilet paper last night. My walls are cement and the pushpins I brought are useless. This is going to be a fun few months. I'll post pictures today or tomorrow hopefully.

Love & miss you!

PCV!!!

Today I totally took an oath to defend the constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic, and some other stuff that I forget. But I'm legit now and it feels so much better than I could have imagined. I'm so proud of myself for doing this... I was sitting there the whole time listening to the ambassador and our country director and a couple of my fellow volunteers speak about what Peace Corps means, its history, and the impact it will have on our lives. I was trying to think back through my application process and remember what it felt like when I first filled out the application, when it was kind of just a castle in the sky, and the fact that I did it. I put aside my life, said goodbye, got on a plane and moved across the world. Damn. I have a million things to pack up and forty three other people to celebrate with tonight before we say our goodbyes and move off on our own tomorrow. As much as a pain in the ass as it was today, I'm glad that I mapped out my first five weeks at site and made a quasi-calendar of things to accomplish, and that we get assignments to complete such as "greet five people and let them know what you'll be doing in their community for two years."

I ate so many canapes at the swearing in. I'm stuffed, but the chicken nuggets and garlic mayo were to *die* for.

kistchy entry about nothing important.

I'm sitting on a bed, with what has been the most comfortable mattress I've slept on in over two months. I must find one just like it when I go to site. I'm in a hotel outside of Kampala, getting ready to swear in as a PCV tomorrow afternoon. FINALLY. I'm pumped. I'm so proud that all 44 of us made it through and will swear in together. I love us.

We arrived at the hotel on Monday morning, after a hurried goodbye to my homestay family who, for some reason, waited until 20 minutes before I was leaving to decide they want a family picture with me, and all needed to bathe and get ready. The picture did not happen. Sorry. We had a huge week of Peace Corps office tours, Embassy tours, shopping for site, etc., planned, but that was all thrown off by a political/social demonstration that has been going on for a week and a half now. Basically food prices and oil prices are out of control here (Nutella went from 3500/= to 11,200/=. I mean come on.) and the opposition parties have decided to walk to work on Mondays and Thursdays to protest the rising cost of living. The only problem is that, in an effort to curtail any possibly violent protests, the police have preemptively shut down the demonstrations, arrested the leaders, shot at people, and fired tear gas into the crowds. Effective, no? Peace Corps is all about keeping us safe, so at the first sign of anything going on, we were put on standfast at the hotel, meaning we weren't allowed to leave the property. Shopping at the mall-that-is-like-America was out. (Sorry.) We spent the rest of the day laying by the pool, drinking beer, and feeling like we were on spring break. My thighs may or may not have gotten sunburned. (It's ok.)

Tuesday we were able to go to the embassy, find out more about the foreign service than I ever thought I would, and then go to the PC office and eat some delicious sandwiches. (Salami, garlic lettuce tomato and CHEESE!) We went shopping at Garden City, where I bought coffee, a milkshake, and a lot of airtime for my phones and computer. Super successful trip, if you ask me. I guess I also bought a gas stove and a hammock that looks like the Ugandan flag, so my house will have a few things in it :) We have been eating the most amazing food while we're at the hotel - I had REAL Heinz ketchup tonight with my potatoes, I gorged myself on bread pudding at lunch, and there are made to order omelets every morning. There is also flan. Apparently this is where we have our In Service Training conference in July or August of this year, so we are all incredibly psyched to come back here after three months.

Tomorrow we're leaving the hotel by seven so that we can avoid the protests and get to where we need to be before any shit goes down. We have more workshops with our supervisors, kind of just to let them know what's expected of them, what's expected of us, what we are like as Americans, and what Peace Corps expects from our time working with them. We swear in tomorrow afternoon, and then hopefully come back to the hotel to celebrate. Friday I'm traveling up to Lira, gonna buy a sweet mattress and some paint, and spend the weekend making my house a home! (That's what I'm anticipating anyway, I have some new movies, a jar of nutella, and some nail polish if things go south.)

I realized the other day that I kind of maybe have less than two years at this point, a thought which I found oddly comforting. I've been counting down from 27, but in reality I think it's less than that. I don't know why one or two months makes such a difference in my mind, but knowing that I'm on this side of "two years" makes me feel better. Maybe a career in the foreign service isn't realistic for me... so sad. The power has gone out a couple times tonight, and every time it does I just stare up at the sky and see all the stars that I never have before. In relation to the US, there is very little light pollution here, and we're up pretty high (I think about 3,000 feet?) so the stars are much more impressive here, I can't wait to take pictures of them!

I'm so excited to take a shower and lay in bed and read tonight. I'm such a nerd, but I'm really looking forward to it. I'm freaking exhausted, this has been a long ten weeks. Oh, and of course my stuff is strewn EVERYWHERE and I'm doubting my ability to fit it all back into my bags. Sorry.

Luggage & Bread. Or, I'm really, really procrastinating here this evening, folks.

Tomorrow morning while I'm at training, doing five hours of language in preparation for my LPI, a Peace Corps driver is coming by my homestay house to pick up my luggage. Other than the fact that I'm not leaving until Monday, this is great news. I have two bags in storage at training right now, and will add one more (plus a bucket and some bedding) to that pile. I am so tired of sorting my things into bags according to when I'll need them next. I am tired of living out of suitcases and constantly packing and unpacking my things. I am tired of being in transition. My biggest fear right now is shuffling through the streets of Kampala with all my crap in tow, and somehow something important not making it to site, or making it to site broken (camera, computer, I'm thinking of you right now). All the other trainees and I can talk about is how badly we just want to be in our own homes, where we can eat what and when we want, and not have to ask permission to bathe or wash clothes. It's really the simple things in life that matter, no?

In other, more fun news, I've decided that while I'm here in Uganda, I want to learn how to bake amazing bread. We were given a cookbook (that I am PUMPED about, I kid you not) that has several bread recipes. I will start with those and then see where it takes me. I lived with my cousins this summer, and Molly is a bread baking aficionado, which is where this little flirtation of an idea is coming from. She and I discussed opening a bakery/restaurant/whatever else we want it to be someday, when we're both done doing what we need to in life, and can settle in to what we want to do. I fully plan on photo-documenting this endeavor and writing about it, of course, so that I can publish it when I get home and then someone can make a movie about it, a la Julie & Julia. No, I'm not kidding.

Ok, I'm obviously just avoiding doing any work in the way of studying for language (kop ango?) or packing up my shit. I'm off.

Miss & love you all.

Liz