Pros and Cons in Uganda

About being an expat...

Pro: There is a really great community of friendly expats who are very open to get to know new people. Making friends from all over the world is really easy.

Con: The boda drivers assume that muzungus don't like to walk and don't know any better, so they'll often try to charge you 2 to 4 times the price of the trip. Haggling every time I have to get on a boda, which is very often at least twice a day, is EXHAUSTING.

About being "Chinese"...

Pro: Apparently happy Chinese FOB door salesmen - not door-to-door, but their company makes doors - will mistake you for one of their own, stop on the road, and offer to give you a ride to your next destination. =)

Con: Every single day (and I promise I am not overstating), I am greeted by obnoxious shouts of, "Hey China!" or "How are you China?". I'm sorry. Would the country of China like to respond on my behalf? Or are they okay if I severely misrepresent them?

About being American...

Pro: People seem to really like Americans.

Con: People really like Americans because they often assume you will be able to buy them a camera or laptop for example, or that your passport is also somehow their free ticket to America too. I am generalizing of course, but these conversations happen a lot.

About having an American accent...

Pro: My Asian face makes most people think that I just speak English remarkably well.

Con: Nobody understands when you ask for water. "I'd like some water." "Pardon?" "Water." "Excuse me?". Ugh.... "I'd like some Woh-tah." "Oh, okay." Apparently it only translates with a British accent or at least only with strong annunciation of the letter "t".

About having a housemate...

Pro: The buddy system is highly encouraged here for personal safety if you don't drive, I almost always have a default person with which to travel.

Con: My housemate is Japanese, so we are constantly asked if we are brother and sister. People are severely confused when we say that he's from Japan and I'm from Korea. And then at that point, it's just too much trouble to explain. Now we've conceded to just say we're related.

About interviewing victims of domestic abuse...

Pro: You see that women are willing to speak up about their hardships and willing to fight for their rights and what they deserve

Con: You look like a complete ass when you give a hearty handshake to the recently battered victim whose hand has not completely healed.

About spending time with adolescent girls in their community based clubs (called ELA program at BRAC)...

Pro: They groups greet you with these great welcome songs and dances, and they want you to play games like netball with them

Con: They expect me to also give them an embarassing display of song and dance in return, and I become the old lady in the group running around with a bunch of teenagers.

About being dirty all the time...

Pro: I've found that the grimier I am at the end of the day, the less likely I am to get bitten by mosquitos.

Con: I have actually employed this as a strategy to combat mosquito bites.

About the various ethnic cuisine in Kampala...

Pro: You can find everything from Ethiopian to Mexican, Thai, American, Indian, Chinese, Italian... not a bad selection all in all.

Con: Most of the food tends to be what we call "Kampala good", meaning that in times of urgent cravings and desperation it will suffice. If it were a restaurant in NYC, they would've posted the store for lease sign on most of these places.

Name That Fruit

I believe I've hit the pinnacle of awkward dinner conversations this week.

I've come to an area called Masaka, which is about 2-3 hours west of Kampala. I've been staying in the guest room of the area office, and as it turns out, there is only one other gentleman who lives here full time. Yes, he is another Bangladeshi. Now, he is very nice, super polite and very accommodating, but he's also unbelievably shy and awkward. I've realized that if I don't maintain some sort of superficial conversation at mealtime, he will most likely not say a single word and sit in silence for fear of not knowing the right thing to say. After exhausting all the small talk I could think of -- how long have you been here, how is your family, how do you like the work, etc -- our conversations have devolved to games of name that fruit.

"Do you have this in your country?" "Have you ever tried _____?"

Yes, no, maybe...

He gets most excited when he asks this question, and I tell him no, I've never seen such a fruit or that we don't have that in my country. He also takes great joy in showing me a fruit that I have ostensibly never seen before. The only problem is that most of the time, it actually IS a fruit that I know or have tried; I've just misunderstood his accent, or it's called by a different name here.

The first night, we had a misunderstanding about paw paw fruit (which actually turned out to be papaya by a different name here). This evening, I guess he had asked me if I had ever had avocado before, but he said it in such an indiscernible accent that I had told him I've never had such a fruit. Well, he was appropriately disappointed when he made the house boy go and fetch one to show me, and I had to confess that we actually see those quite frequently in America but that they are much less delicious there.

I also got laughed at by him (and the houseboy who overheard) when I told him that I thought that pineapples grew on trees for the longest time. I mean, honest mistake right? It's not as though I got to see so many pineapple plantations growing up in Jersey, Garden State or not. Oh, but if I may digress for a bit, the pineapples are delicious here!! They're wonderfully sweet and so nice and ripe that you can eat the entire thing. None of this eating around the hard, petrified core.

Oh, but I do take credit for showing this gentleman his first Kiwi fruit thanks to the magic of the internet.

In any case, if this all seems really inane and mundane -- well, that's because it is. But such has been the course of my evenings every day this week.

Wow. I cannot wait to go back to overpriced ethnic food amongst random strangers in Kampala.

Updates

Oh, there have been so many random things to write about...

I hope nobody minds if I just got for efficiency this time and report everything in list form and in no particular order.

1. I am moved into my permanent residence for the summer. It's a nice house that is empty for the better portion of this summer, and I have to say that I got really, really lucky with accommodations. It would've been very difficult to find a furnished residence for just two months, especially for next to nothing!
2. I have a new housemate who arrived last week. He's a Japanese student who's come via Spain because that's where he's pursuing his MBA. He's supposed to learn Spanish as a requirement for his program, so we practice our broken Spanish together. Haha. It's pretty sad, but I'm his best and only option for a conversation partner.
3. I did my first out of town trip to Jinja. It's a really nice area about 2 hours outside of Kampala where you can enjoy nature, go rafting, bungee jumping, etc. I actually didn't get to do any of the rafting and adventure stuff, so instead, I decided to follow the lead of some Aussies and sort of body surf through the rapids. Seemed harmless enough. Yeah, I almost lost a chunk of my pinky toe in the rapids. It seems my poor form at entry left a lot to be desired. Haha. Good thing I wasn't in the Amazon, or I would've lost a limb to piranhas. I have a great picture of my toe looking pretty gnarly, but I will spare you that for now.
4. I tried my bunch of the local food since my last post. First and foremost, the rolex. No, not the watch. It's a different kind of rolex. Say it very slowly... rooolleexx = roll-eggs. Basically, it's a roti/chipati with a friend egg in it. The fancier option is basically like a veggie omlette (always best with fresh avocado). It is soooo delicious and my favorite thing so far. Too bad they are so greasy and usually wrapped in newspaper. This is why I try not to eat them too often -- the grease and the off chance that I will be poisoned by the news ink that I know I'm ingesting. Next, I tried the big staple foods of the country -- posho (a doughy mash made of maize) and matoke (green banana mash). These were ok. As one of my colleagues put it, Ugandan cuisine can be "a bit uninspired". I don't know if I'd quite put it that way, but I don't think that I'll be craving any of this stuff once I am gone. And talk about starch...
5. This one gets its own bullet point. I got to try Korean food in Kampala -- it's totally fake!!! Fake Korean food made by Chinese people. Haha. Not to stereotype, but I find that fact kind of amusing. I mean, I know that they are the ultimate purveyors of bootleg DVDs, but I didn't know that it extended to cuisine. All my colleagues seemed to love it (I don't think a single person, not even the expats had ever had Korean before). I was appalled because it was soooo not representative of how truly amazing Korean food can be, so I was apologizing the entire time, even though they were enjoying their meal immensely.
6. I had my first really negative experience in the town center at the taxi park. A bit of harassment during the day when I was out commuting by myself for meetings. I had to wack a passerby, who couldn't keep his hands to himself, with my umbrella. That and I had to repress the stream of profanities that were about to pour out of my mouth. I think I was reluctant to be the foreigner causing a scene in public. But I've decided. Next time, I'm totally causing a scene! Oh, and maybe drawing blood.
7. I also got to start my field research as of this week. I've been out in an area called Iganga, and it's been an interesting experience to say the least. Being different has never been so welcoming and isolating all at once. It's fairly poor and rural here, so the sight of a muzungu (european/white/foreigner) is pretty rare. The groups/communities I interact with for my research seem to be laughing about or at me fairly often from what I can tell. And I realize that I am a grown woman, but I think no matter how old you get, that is never a good feeling. However, when I walk down the street, the children are soooo excited at the sight of a muzungu that they always yell, "how are you muzungu?" and "bye muzungu". They love it when I wave at them or acknowledge them. Some children will even run down the road just to greet me and for the chance to shake my hand. The novelty of the experience literally gets them all giddy. It's the cutest thing ever.

Okay. I'll stop there for now. I wish I could share pictures of all of this. Hopefully soon. For now, please use your imaginations. =)

Celebrity Sightings

Y'all are gonna love this one. =)

I've had some free time since arriving, which I have used as opportunities to go running in the area around the compound. As you might imagine, an Asian girl running up and down the roadside is not a common sight and has drawn some attention from the locals.

The most common thing that I have heard is "muzungu!" (Luganda for European or someone who is white). It's been most amusing when small children, who are so curious and excited to see someone so strange looking, attempt to come running alongside me shouting, "Hi, muzungu!!" or "Bye, muzungu", as their little hands are waving frantically back and forth. The Kool-Aid smiles when you say hello and wave back are the best.

Sometimes, I will also hear, "Hey, Mchina!" (Luganda for someone who is not necessarily Chinese but is of East Asian descent in general. Most people here have not seen enough East Asians to be able to differentiate). That's something I have tended not to respond to because I get harassed with that by primarily adult males.

Then on occasion, I would hear someone say, "Hey, nina!". This one was a new one for me. I had no idea what it mean, and at first, I thought that maybe it was something derogatory. However, I realized that small children and adults alike were calling me this, so I decided to ask my Ugandan colleague if that sounded familiar. I told her that I wasn't sure what the word was exactly, but it sounded like "nina" (Naturally, I made this association to my sister's name). I asked her what "nina" meant in Luganda, and she said that I must be mistaken because "nina" means "I have" in the language. She was certain that I was confusing it with China, and was I certain that they weren't saying China? However, I had heard it so many times at this point, I felt fairly confident that they were calling me "nina". Oh well, at least I had learned a new phrase. Nevertheless, this still had not solved the issue of why everyone was calling me "nina".

Then today, I met up with a new Ugandan friend that I had been put in touch with by a classmate at school. We were chit-chatting as she was driving me back to the compound, and I was recounting some of my experiences with the locals and their reactions to seeing me out and about the town. We happened back upon the subject of people calling me all these names. I told her, "People keep calling me this name, but nobody knows what they mean. They keep calling me 'nina'."

She immediately started cracking up and said, "Oh my god. I was just going to ask you if that's what they were calling you. I knew it. Hahaha. I know why they are calling you that."

FINALLY!! An answer!!! But I was totally not expecting the explanation that she was about to give me.

It seems people think that I am this woman...

Meet Kristine Hermosa, pinay acress and model, otherwise known as Yna. A-ha! She is the female lead on the Filipino soap opera, 'The Promise' (original title Pangako Sa 'Yo (English: My Promise to You) ).

But then I thought, seriously?!? Wow. I look nothing like her. She is an attractive woman to be certain, but these poor people -- the children especially -- were getting all excited thinking they've had an Yna sighting on the streets of Kampala. This soap opera has been broadcasting here for some time, completely translated into the local language, and it's wildly popular amongst Ugandans. As in, stop-talking-I-have-to-go-home-because-Yna-is-on popular. As in, I-cannot-focus-on-doing-your-hair-so-sit-in-the-chair-and-wait-until-Yna-is-over distracting. I am told it has become somewhat of a national obsession.

Thus, before learning any other phrases in Luganda, I immediately decided to ask one of the local staff guys to teach me how to say "I am not Yna" in Luganda. Hahaha. I figured I should know how to respond accordingly and attempt to set the people straight because, apparently, all Asians DO look alike after all. Come to think of it, maybe I should've asked him to teach me how to say, "Why yes, I AM Yna. Very nice to meet you." =P

I Think I'm Getting The Black Lung, Pop!

SHARON: (high pitched coughing) eh-heh, eh-heh-heh...

(As SHARON carefully wipes her face off with a cotton ball. She then throws it into, or rather, onto the trash can that is now overflowing with ashen coal-like lumps.)

Okay. So, I like to add a little dramatic effect. But SERIOUSLY!!! I did my first real trip into the city center of Kampala today, public transportation and all. It was ridiculousness on a level that might be incomprehensible until you actually witness it. I wish I could post up some pictures, but I didn't bring my camera out with me this afternoon. Promise that those are forthcoming.

It's like being smack in the middle of an old western a la The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: dust swirling in the air, tensions are palpable, Ennio Morricone is playing in the background... and when the dust clears... well, it's more dust that's kicked up by a veritable stampede of taxis, motorcycles, cars, and pedestrians. So maybe it's more like Mad Max meets the Lion King!!! (So sad when Mufasa dies by the way... *sniff*) And the dust, the unimaginable amounts of dust!! It's literally enough to make you feel a little bit ill at the end of the day because of all the dust, not to mention exhaust fumes, that you've inhaled -- well, practically ingested. It makes me happy to be sitting here in the quiet BRAC compound, nestled under my mosquito net with the soft glow of my laptop. =)

I was actually warned about the nightmare that is public transportation in Kampala but a couple of people. Needless to say, traffic is pretty horrendous. The 4 or so kilometer trip from Kampala city center to Nyanama should take about 15 minutes or so by car. However, by public transport and with traffic, it can take you up to an hour and a half. This figure was just recounted to me over dinner by one of the gentlemen who oversees the Small Medium Enterprises (SME) program. Obviously, if you have a car, this is the quickest, easiest means of traveling. However, the other options are as follows:

1. Private Taxi - This isn't necessarily a yellow cab (or city cab as they call them here). However, it akin to having private car service that is taken at a pre-negotiated just prior to departure. It's also the safest option at night but generally the costliest option.
2. Boda - These are motorcycle taxis. Good for short to medium distance trips, but not more than that because things like dust, heat, or just general potential for bodily injury. They drive kinda crazy-like. Nevertheless, they can take you right where you need to go, and they are a more affordable option than private cars of course. You sort of need to negotiate your prices here as well, and it can get moderately expensive to make this your regular mode of transport depending. Oh, by the way, do you know that moms straight-up ride with babies in their lap?!?! It's like some Britney Spears craziness, yet oddly enough, I feel like these babies are actually safer. Haha.
3. Taxi (Matatus for those who have been to Kenya/Tanzania) - So these are not actually taxis. They're more like a public bus system, but they're all Mystery Mobile-esque van cabs. They are supposed to seat about 12-14 people safely... but, you know... safety is all relative here (see point number 2). People will shout out the general area they are going to, and chances are you will get to that general area. However, if there's too much traffic or some other such inconvenience, they'll just stop and tell you to get out. If that's the case, you basically walk to where you thought you'd be dropped off. The walking is not terrible, but it's not helpful if you're new to the area and don't know exactly where you're going. On the whole, it is a bit crowded, time consuming, and dirty (I actually saw the conductor lean over and wipe the sweat off his forehead on the upholstered headrest of the seat next to him). However, it will generally not cost you more than 1000 shilling, or about 50 cents. Actually, the base fare is 500 shilling, the equivalent to about a quarter, maybe not even. You can even get to Jinja, which is 45 minutes to an hour away, for about 2 dollars!! Amazingly inexpensive if you're willing to suck it up and roll like a local.

So, the long and the short of it is that I still don't really know where I'm going, but I'm learning!! Certainly ready and willing to keep trying my hand at becoming a proficient at the public transport system. However, this all does makes me regret not having brought my swine flu/yellow dust/fob mask that I used in Korea last year. I already stick out like a sort thumb anyway; there wouldn't be much harm in looking like a ridiculous Asian hypochondriac on top of it. Oh, and my stomach still feels a little gross from the day's adventure. Nevertheless, I am somehow left feeling consoled by the mental image of me emerging from the dust - perhaps a little dirty, perhaps a little worse for the wear - but ultimately victorious from my battle with the seemingly dystopian elements of this city.

Starched!

Most of you who know me will not be surprised that I’ve already decided to talk about my mealtimes and food. Perhaps you are expecting that I will describe every savory detail about Ugandan food and all the new things that I’ve tried, and I will…

just not today. The reality is that the only Ugandan food that I’ve eaten here so far are those really cute baby bananas (going on day 3 of the same gigantic bundle). So what, you might ask, have I been eating for 2 days straight? Bangladeshi food of course – generally in the company of no less than 3 Bangladeshi men. In essence, the food itself is not really that new since the cuisine is very similar to Indian food, which I love. Though, I have to say that the meals are so heavy (rice, potatoes, and/or chipati) that I become virtually narcoleptic after meals, as all the blood leaves the rest of my body to attempt to digest the massive wad of starch that had stubbornly decided to reside in my stomach. I actually have to resist the urge to go gnaw on random greenery or a piece of bark or something.

Sorry. Slight digression. In any case, my dining experience has been quite interesting. I am generally the only person in the room who uses utensils, which makes me feel almost apologetic for wanting to eat with a fork. Everyone else is all up in their food with their hands, and it was admittedly a bit unappetizing at first, strictly speaking as one who has not come from such a culture. Needless to say, I got used to it all rather quickly – the sort of squishing noise of mixing sauce and food with rice, the licking and smacking noises of getting that last bit of food off hands and plates, and even the freely shared burps of a happily sated Bangladeshi. Haha. I just have to laugh about it.

But do you know what? I have never seen consistently cleaner plates at mealtime in any other culture that I have encountered. Nothing goes to waste, and that is awesome. Not only this, but I have rarely encountered such politeness in so many other ways at the meal table. Today, someone looked at me and asked me if he could be excused since he was finished. I was thinking ‘Dude, I’m not your mother and you are grown. You can do whatever you’d like!’ Haha. But I just told him, ‘of course!’ I mean, it is kind of odd when a much older gentleman asks you for permission to leave the dinner table.

In any case, everyone wants to make sure that I enjoy what has been prepared. If I tell them that I like eggplant or spicy food in general, they say ‘thank you very much’. In fact, they say ‘thank you very much’ for almost everything. I suppose it might be overkill, but then again, I think it’s just good practice. When in doubt, just make 'thank you' your default response, and life is that much more pleasant. Though, the random thank you-ing also leads me to a point about the sometimes awkward mealtime conversations. I might sit there and eat quietly as conversations progress in Bangla. Other times, the curious group chooses to engage me in conversations such as the one that occurred when I told everyone how old I was. Naturally, they all thought I was about 20 years old, and naturally, they were pretty shocked when I told them I was actually 29. Immediately following this one of the gentleman asked me,

“What about your baby?”

“Baby?”

“Yes, your baby.”

“Oh, but I don’t have a baby. No baby yet.”

“No baby. Ok. Then your husband? What about your husband?”

“Oh, I’m not married either. No husband.”

“Not married? No husband?”

The man was discernibly shocked and confused, and I had this odd feeling of déjà vu...

“You sound just like my mother," I told him. The 'Where's your husband?' 'Where are your babies???' 'You’re getting old!!' (by the way, thanks a lot mom...)

Haha. Thankfully the conversation did not progress any further, and there were no comments about my eggs getting old, or shriveling ovaries, or such pleasantries at the dinner table.

Kicking-Off My Next Adventure: Dubai & Uganda

It's finally happening folks!

I am resurrecting my travel blog as I have finally made my way over to Uganda for the summer. The trip was long and tiring but not without its perks. I managed to take advantage of a layover in Dubai and take a quick peek at the city at night. I will dash off a few highlights via some extended ramblings. =) Oh, and it takes about 20 minutes to upload a single photo, so I'd like to make the disclaimer that blogs may be more rambling heavy than picture heavy. That being said, please read on if you so desire!

Basically, everything in Dubai is bright, and shiny, and new! Case in point - here's the new terminal at the airport exclusively for Emirates.

Then, of course, there are the iconic burjes of the city: Burj ( برج‎ being the Arabic word for tower) Al Arab and Burj Khalifa, which is now the tallest building in the world. Sorry. The poor picture quality doesn't do the structure any justice. It was so tall, I couldn't even fit the whole thing in the picture.

My tour of Dubai consisted mostly of a driving/drive-by tour of the city, so part and parcel of my experience was a fun game I made up for myself in search of the "best" license plate. I realize this may seem utterly and completely lame and inane, but the impetus for it is quite relevant to how things operate socially and culturally in Dubai. Basically, the lower your license plate number, the wealthier you are. Not only is the car a status symbol, but the license plate solidifies the degree of your wealth because to have a plate like the one below, you have to pay thousands of dollars extra for the "good" plate number.
If your car doesn't even have a letter on the license plate, then you must really be somebody!! I was told that the Sheikh of UAE has like 5 of the same car all with the plate number 1 on them. And speaking of cars - there must be more luxury and exotic cars per capita than any other country in the world. It's like an Aston Martin is the Toyota Camry of Dubai.

Anyway, shout-out to my old colleague and friend for driving me all around to see the city in the middle of the night!!

Now, onto my arrival in Uganda...

Lake Victoria (2nd largest lake in the world)

It really is the beautiful country that everyone said it to be. The driver who came to pick me up from the airport proudly boasted of his country as he quoted Winston Churchill, who dubbed Uganda as 'the Pearl of Africa'.

Here's a look at the BRAC country office in Uganda. Pretty nice huh? This is where I will be based out of and working for the bulk of my summer when I am not out in the field.

As beautiful as the country appears to be, the people seem even lovelier. Everyone here as been just so wonderful, friendly, and welcoming. Being back here again instantly reminded me of what I loved about Africa the first time around, and an overwhelming sense of comfort and familiarity seemed to well up inside as I took all of this in my first day. All in all, I think that it is going to be a fruitful and amazing time in Uganda.

And as they say here, "You are welcome!" So come visit!!!