You Asked for It

This is elections week.  What that means is one big vacation for all of Uganda.  Many businesses closed yesterday, (our office closed for a half-day,) NO ONE is working today, and who knows what tomorrow will bring?  The polls open in the morning and campaigning is going strong.  I don’t have a firm grasp on Ugandan politics, but I know in addition to electing a president, people are electing parliament as well.   I think it’s absolutely nuts that the town shuts down for three days.  Could you even imagine if every November everyone just took three days off because they needed to go place a five-minute vote?  Ridiculous.  But it’s Uganda.  And it means that there is a nice-sized group of expats with a long weekend.  We're taking advantage by going north to Kidepo National Park. It's right up next to the Sudanese border.  I’ve been told it’s too dry right now to see lions up there, but I should see loads of elephants.  I have some friends that went to Murchison Falls last week and they saw lions and hippos and all sorts, so I’ll have to make my way there soon as well.  Anyway, because it’s been a short week I don’t have much to report, but I thought I would post a few things. 

"Campaign" trucks drive around blaring music from these ridiculous speakers.  That's the favorite form of campaigning around here.  When this one isn't driving, it's parked (music still blaring) in front of our office.  Next door is a candidates office.  Lucky us. 

The little blue box that will send me your love.

First of all, I got a P.O. Box.  It’s in working order, but is sitting empty, so I would LOVE to see it full!! I looked it up before I left and it appears to be $0.98 to send a postcard or letter.  So send away!  There is nothing like getting real mail when you’re in a far away place.  And anyone that sends me mail will certainly be getting postcards in return!!  And who doesn’t want a post card coated with authentic African dirt??  So, please address all mail to Morgan Olsen, P.O. Box 993, Gulu, Uganda.  That's it.  The postal guy assures me it will make it to the right place with that address, so send away!!

Second, I thought I’d write a bit about my office life.  Since Barbara came and bought a large load of jewelry she hasn’t been able to put in a new order yet and I'm not sure when the next one will come.  That is a small source of frustration for me, since I don’t have much to do until there is business for these women.  Luckily, I’ve had lots to occupy me the last couple weeks with getting everything settled and trying to learn my way around the town.   

Me and David

When I say, "my office," it isn’t really my office at all.  There is a guy here from Ireland who is running a savings and loan business.  They create groups of people who get a box and every week they’re required to put some amount of money into it.  No one can take money out until everyone in the group agrees to open the box and use the savings.  The most common thing the box is opened for are school fees.  The group can also decide to loan money out to individuals, generally to improve their business, which of course has to be paid back.   David (Irish guy) has been here for a couple years and the business is now doing really really well.  I’ve gone with him a number of times to hear the spiel he gives to a group that is just starting up.  Each group has a sponsor, I’m not sure where the sponsor comes in to play, but David needs pictures and stories to send to them.  He’s asked me to help out and, given all my free time lately, I gladly accepted.  Anyway, all this is to say, this savings and loan business, Respond Restoring Northern Uganda (Respond ReNU), has an office.  David offered to let me have one of the desks in the back so the beading women know where to find me if they need.  It’s also just nice to have somewhere to go every day and someone who has been around so long to ask all my, “How do I….” and “Where can I….” questions.

 

OK, switching gears entirely, I’ve had several inquiries about my bathroom accommodations here.  So, because it is so absolutely foreign to the American way of life, I’m addressing it my blog.  If you have no desire to read about my current bathroom habits, feel free to skip down to the food section now.  

OK, for those of  you still with me, first of all, I have grown accustomed to being dirty all of the time.  All of the time.  Only the very-most main roads in town are paved.  And when I say paved, I know you have a regular city-street image in your mind.  Forget that.  It is a narrow road, with enormous dirt-filled pot-holes and a jaggedy shoulder.  There are gutters for water dug on either side of the road – the gutters are just dug into the dirt usually.  Sometimes there is some sort of side walk, usually, there’s just dirt.  Also, there is no AC to speak of in this place, so windows and doors are always open and there is no such thing as a screen.  So, especially now in the dry season, there is a thin layer of dust covering everything.  Everything.   

Our shower.  What's missing?....Oh, that's right, the shower part.

Now that we've established that I'm dirty all the time and am more inclined to shower regularly than perhaps in my normal life...ahem....Since I live a couple miles out of the city, indoor plumbing is non-existent.  There is a tap in the backyard, which is nice.  I see loads of people everyday carrying water (yes – carrying it on their head.)  For us to shower though, we boil water and mix it in a bucket with the tap water. When it’s the right temperature we carry it back to the “shower.”  That’s what they call it, even though it is certainly not a shower.  I feel more like I’m in a water fight with myself than taking a shower.  I do a weird kind of sponge bath and then poor water over my head with a cup to get the shampoo out.  I do have a very satisfied feeling of clean when I’m done though.  For about 2.5 seconds, until I touch something.  

Yes, that's it. 

Toilets are a whole different story.  There are sit-down toilets, and there are squatter toilets.  Well, and there are sit-down toilets without the top part that allows you to sit on it.  Those are my favorite.  Totally pointless.  You have to do this weird balancing act, because you are not actually going to touch that thing, but you can’t just squat down.  You have to be very careful where the fluids go, and just make sure it’s not going to be a long bathroom experience before you start in on one of those. 

I have encountered three legitimate sit-down toilets in Gulu.  One was in my hotel room my first week, one is in the coffee shop that has free Internet (run by Ugandans who lived in the UK for 20 something years – bless them) and one was in the restaurant we ate in last night.  Other than that, it’s a squatter toilet.  At work, largely because we’re in town, it’s actually a flush squatter.  That’s the first time I’d seen one of those.  At home though, we have what is called The Long Drop.  A cement slab with a hole cut out is placed on top of a much larger hole.  It’s self-contained, you can’t see or smell anything once it’s down that hole, but, well, it’s all down the hole.  There is a spider that lives in the corner of our Long Drop.  We have a good understanding, I don’t bother him, and he doesn’t bother me.  Toilet paper is another oddity around here.  Sometimes it’s there, sometimes it isn’t.  Just make sure if you really need it, you check before-hand. 

Lastly, the issue of needing a bathroom at night.  All my life, this was never a problem.  My mom says even when I was a kid I would wake up in the morning and not need to go for hours.  If I ever have to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom it is very rare and an extreme annoyance.  Until I move to Uganda and for some reason have a bladder the size of a pea.  So after I’d been living with Mama Janet for a few days she asked me, “Moghan, do you go out at night?” 
      “Out, you mean leave?  No.  Sometimes I got out to use the bathroom, though.”
      “That is what I mean, you cannot do this.”
      “No?  Why not?”
      “Because we in Gulu never know if Kony is coming back.  So we do not go out in the night.” 
      “Yikes, ok, understood.  So then…what do you do when you have to use the bathroom at night?” 
      “We get you a bucket.” 
And thus was born my veritable piss-pot.  Not a nice term, I know, but what else do you call it?  Now, mom, don’t get too worried.  The likelihood of Joseph Kony coming back is quite low, and the chances that he will steal an American girl are even lower, but nonetheless, opening the metal door that leads from my room to the outside is a really really loud affair.  So, rather than discuss my nightly bathroom habits with the entire household daily, I just gave in and now have a paint can that hides under my table until, annoyingly, I wake up in the middle of the night and need it....

Whew, well, there you have it, all the African bathroom adventure you could ever want in all its gory glory.  Perhaps more than you ever wanted to know about my bathroom habits, but it is certainly one crazy aspect of my life here. 

Uh…feels a little weird to transition into food now, but here goes:

Concy frying up the goodness.

I think my absolute favorite thing I’ve tried so far….--OK, I can’t say that, there is too much goodness around -- but something that is so so SO good; Chapatti.  I guess it’s Indian and it resembles some mix between naan and a tortilla.  Women make them fresh every morning and sell them to the small convenience stores around.  Some flour, onion, oil, water and salt, grab a small ball of dough, roll it out and fry it up.  I love them best when Concy cooks them (though she doesn’t do it daily) for two reasons:  One, I get them hot and fresh, two she makes the outside just a little crispy, and I am in heaven.  Heaven, I tell you! 

My favorite soft drink here is called Mirinda, Fruity.  It’s like Fanta, it comes in different flavors.  But Fruity is my fav.  It’s dark purple and is so smooth.  Soda is smoother here in general, not so overly carbonated, and this one I love most.  Plus I love that they use the glass bottles still.  And they reuse all the bottles over and over again.  You get 300 shillings off if you’re refilling them with soda and they will give you 200 shillings for each bottle if you’re just returning them.  I love that.  So, a couple times a week at least, you'll catch me sipping my glass-bottled Mirinda from a straw.