Confessions of a Addled Brain

It is 9:02 AM on what would appear an ordinary work day.  The day has already had an interesting beginning, but back to that later.  There is not a soul in sight at any office.  This is a clue.  I have missed it.  These are the District Offices - so this does not bode well.  I called my supervisor and apparently wake him up, tho this is unlikely as he as 4 children that I know of.  I start by asking "Why is no-one here."  he answers "How are you?"  Oh - damn, I forgot the lead in - "How are you, I'm fine, how was the night...  it was fine.  How is your home...."  Now WHERE IS EVERYONE?

I've given one of two sets of keys to a Program Officer who should be here, but it looks oddly like a holiday and everyone else knows but me.   Twilight zone music in the background...   Or was today simply cancelled due to lack of interest.   Well that's certainly possible.  But no, I'm not picking up on the clues.  In part of my mind I know that I've missed something, but for the life of me I can't figure it out.  Kind of like forgetting the rules at the last minute of a game you've played all your life...  

It started last night with my Smurf themed, plastic, zipper front clothing "closet" - perilously leaning,  finally collapsed into a heap on the floor.   Damn Smurfs.   Partying no doubt - or sniffing little vials of blue Smurfette glue.  OK - dug out all clothes and transferred to an extra bed.  Mice.  Nothing of value is left on the floor:  chocolate granola bars, clothes (good nesting material), etc.    Finally onward to bed.  I have finally - after three days of trying everything possible - connected with the help of Trav - to my leasing agent in Austin. This has caused lack of sleep.  Termite warning here (large, hungry infestation in the garage growing fat on LABE's paper goods) prompted me to remember  the lack of follow-up on the inspection I'd requested from my leasing agent for my Austin digs six months ago.   This is synchronicity at work.  Because the warranty had been allowed to lapse.  All ends well I think because the good people at Robert's Pest Control took mercy and and are extending the warranty with the condition that I pay the extra year.  Best possible outcome.   Termites serve as messengers...  that's a new one.

Into the night - the boom boxes in the distance rattle the windows.  In a civilized universe this could also be a clue that it's Friday night, but it's being going all week.   I had a good book and power.  So far, so good, not counting the collapse of the closet.   Into the night...

In my dream world courtesy of Mefloquin methinks,  I am in a hotel with a bunch of realtors and have to get to the second floor and by climbing a rope ladder with circle rings in it while wearing 6-inch heels (which even in my twenties I did not wear).  Once there, after a night of sleep I awake finding my hair (now a dark brown in the dream) all rolled up in fuzzy rollers of yesteryear and covered with not one, but two hair nets.  In the night it appears that someone has not only dyed my hair but set it.   I wander out and - to my great surprise - find that the security office is next door to my room BUT - they are all "in" on the joke.  I awaken relieved that I've not gone mad,  but I liked the pixie cut.

Now - as I sit here on the front steps of LABE and gather information, I discover it's a SATURDAY.  Not only have I failed to leave work early on my half-day Friday, I have somehow lost two days of time here in the Twilight Zone of Peace Corps Uganda.  I said to Geoffrey, my counterpart yesterday - see you tomorrow and he said "yes."  Maybe it was just "hmmmm" which can be yes - or I'm not listening.  Apparently the latter in this case.

Truly, I've fallen into a black hole and need that rope ladder to climb out.   Perhaps the chemicals I was breathing on the day I spent at home dealing with termites fried my brain.   At the very least it appears to have reset my mental clock. Or.... somewhere in the twilight zone in a parallel universe it's Thursday and a a brunette Peace Corps Volunteer is still asleep thinking it's Saturday.

Going home to start the day over... and put a calendar by my bed to mark of days of the week.
I am not a well woman it would appear...   Or I'm just living in a period of no time.  Monday - Friday seems to have no meaning here.  Everyday is the same, except for Sunday.  You know it's Sunday only because of the church music. 

Have a good weekend - because apparently - it's really Saturday - all day.

"Be the Peace..."

Today is the International Day of Peace for those of you who didn't know (I didn't until yesterday) and this year it seems particularly relevant.  Maybe it's because I'm half a world away from the normalcy of my daily life in Austin, where it's easy to think peace is always with us.  Here - not so much.   Here in this country newly at peace, among a host of nations in active conflict,  that nice soft cocoon of peace we take for granted in the States has some holes in it. 

Some of this has been brought home by the fact that we're in a little-bitty country literally surrounded by hot spots:  the Congo, Sudan, Kenya and those are rubbing shoulders with places like Libya, Egypt, Tunisia - all in some degree of deep conflict if not all out war.  Some of those seem constantly in discord, others more recently.  I'm not trying to over dramatize this - it's just fact.  Although I feel absolutely safe in Uganda, and especially so in Gulu, we were just  alerted again about anti-American demonstrations planned for Kampala this weekend.   Jokingly we call Kampala The Forbidden City, because we are "forbidden" to go there without approval and warned to stay away on the weekends.  Well - we don't always - stay away that is, but that's another can of worms.   We do generally avoid crowds - always a sure sign of mischief afoot.  As somewhat of an adrenaline junkie from my police and fire department days, I have to admit that my instincts are always to find out what's going on, but here - well - I'd get the hell out of Dodge if I saw a crowd building.

The point is, that here, the issue of "peace" is more in your face - and more than a concept.  Although September 21st is the official International Day of Peace,  Uganda for some reason decided it was yesterday - or at least that was the day chosen for the big celebration in Gulu.   I went to work as usual, knowing nothing about it - until a band tuned up outside and I slipped out to investigate. A gathering crowd was awaiting the start of the event.  There were the Cuk Madit (Main Market) Stage Boda Drivers all dressed up in their black T-shirts with Uganda's colors decorating the sleeves - waiting on their motor cycles splendidly decked out with streamers, small Ugandan flags and various and sundry shiny baubles along the handle bars.  Groups from several schools awaited - all gussied up in their school colors of pink and blue, black and white, blue and black - waiting to take their place in a parade through town. A group  that really caught my attention was one of twenty-some-odd young women dressed in hospital green and white all topped off with a tiny nurses cap bobby-pinned into their cropped fuzz.  They all have identical hair, purposely not a shaved head because there would be no place to pin the cap - and absolutely nothing frivolous like braids...  Each group held their banner: the ones in green - from the Gulu School of Nursing.

There was an award given to someone who had dedicated his life to education and specifically education regarding reconciliation, peace building and  non-violent conflict resolution.   Peace is serious stuff in a country ravaged by war for two-plus decades.  Most of the people here have had direct contact with atrocities Americans and those of us from more developed countries only read about - and make movies about - but by now you know this. These folks have lived it and yesterday were celebrating the absence of war, the presence of peace.     As I often am here,   I was humbled to be present at this small, but significant and emotionally powerful event.  As the parade started, everyone fell in line and marched in step as the procession wound around through the city - to finally land at the fair-grounds. The military band played loud, dramatic measures of something that sounded vaguely victorious and drum majorettes strutted their stuff with an earnestness that would put college marching bands to shame.  

Then just a few minutes ago,  something came into my inbox, titled "Be the Peace."   I followed the link (www.BeThePeace.com) to the youtube video of celebrations large and small around the world:  London, Paris, Rome, Chicago, Nepal, Bali and many others including - our very own - Austin, Texas.   I was moved. I am still moved.  Because, even as a child of the 60's I have not seen - or perhaps just not been aware of - such a public and peaceful outpouring and demonstration of the desire for PEACE.  The 60's were about rebellion, changing the status quo and often in  non-peaceful means.    Seldom were Peace Demonstrators received peacefully. These were.

Starting in the 80's there's been a huge focus on the ongoing global shift in consciousness and the accompanying earth changes. The topic has become large enough that is has moved beyond the domain of "New Age"  and is being embraced/addressed by every philosopher, spiritual leader and many prominent hard-scientific researchers of our time.  Those of you who know me know that I'm smack in the middle of it and have taught and lectured on this topic for years.  When I see the events that occurred on this Peace Day it makes me smile and give me hope.

Frog Strangler

Trips out of Gulu are always an adventure, but I am once again reminded of the sailing adage: If you add your most hideous days and your most exquisite and the average is zero, you've had a fabulous trip.  Starting with the walk to the bus, this score came in at a resounding negative whose origins no doubt are in the pits of hell.  A new school term began that week, so all transport is historically packed (translate bodies and mattresses bulging from the windows) at that time of year.  A group had gone the day before and reported upon their arrival at 5:15 the bus was already crammed.   So, smart Muzungos that we are, we got up at 4AM and were greeted by the worst downpour of the season - a real frog strangler.  Now, if this had been the States or even Kampala, we would have called a private hire  (or hopped in our OWN car) and gotten a mile ride in.  But alas, it was not Kampala and I don't have the name of a reliable private hire (one can wait an hour) and we certainly don't have a CAR, so we donned our ponchos, repacked some bags to accommodate an extra pair of shoes and rain gear and headed out to navigate the mud and the rain through the pitch dark streets.  NO one except idiots and Muzungus (is that a redundancy?) venture out in the rain.  But we slogged through raging muddy, ankle deep, sewer tainted waters and reached the bus 4:45-ish and it was all locked up.  It's raining - and NO ONE is going to open until it stops.  We arrived totally drenched.  We'd put our computers in plastic bags and thank goodness, because even though they were in backpacks under our parkas once we boarded the bus and commenced the trip, a shallow river of water deep to soak every piece of clothing I own and fry any electronic gear sloshed forward.

The PO guard finally opened up at about 5:45AM and we boarded a dark and empty bus.  No one else arrived until 6:30 and we finally pulled out at 7:20, continuing to pick up people (Ugandans who know better than to walk through water and mud) and arrived at 1:30 or so and were deposited at a police station where there was no place to sit, find food or wait.  We found a private hire and got a roller coaster tour of the innards of  Uganda slums and finally  arrived at a sandwich shop, ate and caught the PC shuttle to Masaka.  By that time I was nursing a horrid upset stomach and 3.5 hours later we finally arrived.  Fifteen hours of travel in all.  As I have said, travel in Uganda is not for the weak of heart or frail of body.  Oh - did I mention that we passed a bus that had turned over in the middle of the road not more that a few hours earlier?  Not confidence inspiring...  

Thank god - I was given a private room, running water, flush toilet.   Food fine, great to see people, but otherwise a total cluster.  We did however, go to Friday night BBQ at a place run by a Danish family and had some of the best food I've had in country.  Not just food that was  good "for Uganda," but great food worth the wait.  There are many countries in Africa where the food is great, but - and I wonder if it is the English colonization influence - but food here has not met salt or seasonings on any kind.  Mean when available is tough and hiding shards of bone.

Back in Kampala.  Sandals broken again - needed to find something here. Miraculously found some Preevos only one size too big (there was only ONE pair and in ONE size).  They clump a little when I walk, but I've become very adaptive.  Found a grand pair of Panama Jacks for basically half of my monthly PC stipend and passed on them.  besides, i would have been murderous the first time I had to submerge them in sewer water and mud...

Since I first drafted this blog, we have been through both the highs and the lows of trying to plan travel to Egypt.  The best news was that we had purchased our airline tickets to Egypt and Ethiopia for our over-Christmas trip.  The plan was to leave on the 17th of  December and return on January the 4th or so.  Coming back through Ethiopia!  We were so excited about being among the pyramids on 12/21/2012.  Not more than three days later all the hubbub erupted in Libya and Egypt and PC is not approving any travel to Egypt!   Tho that MAY change, we are back to the drawing board and are relieved that we can get a refund on our tickets, minus $50.  Since that time, Embassies in Tunis and Khartoum have been closed except for essential personnel.

Got commandeered to work on the Annual Report for PC and spent an intense couple of days doing work around software issues, etc.  Ate too much.   Slept too little courtesy of the night staff at the Annex who persist in cleaning the bathrooms and showers at 4Am turning on all the lights so they blaze like high-noon into the rooms and make enough racket to wake the dead - even through earplugs.

Back in Gulu - enjoying an quiet and empty house.  Came home, got horizontal and fell into the sleep-of-the-dead for three hours at 4PM.  Probably explains why my sleep pattern is out of whack - with my waking at 4AM this morning - this time to the sounds of a train whistle.  And thee re no trains up here.  (Museveni destroyed the tracks for fear they would be used for hostile purposes. ) Housemate is in US for two weeks and the town is relatively quiet, though church music is in full tilt as of this writing.  The new US Ambassador to Uganda is coming to town tonight and a number of us have been invited to the reception.  so that's tonight.

My successes of the week include finding a home for Dingo, a sweet dog left in Kampala by his former family.  Rare to come across a dog in Uganda who has been a pet.  For the most part Ugandan's are "not nice" to dogs and most are so abused by the time you find them that they have to been seriously retrained.  He looks like every other dog you see in Uganda (tan, the size of a small German shephard) and now has a new home in Gulu with a new USAID worker ;-)

Off to do hand laundry.  The only way...