A normal day?

Some days feel something like normal - or what normal might feel like in Northern Uganda. And the day is winding down as I sit on the floor in the living room on a woven mat I bought in the market today.  Here in the world of papyrus, it is not a papyrus mat, but woven with plastic strands.  It’s hard to find anything that’s not plastic in fact.  One has to adjust... still, it’s pretty – purple and green.  It’s an 8x10 and I got another in pink and brown for the bedroom.  The floor is gritty concrete – so these really help.   And it’s raining – again.  This is not a bad thing.  When we first arrived we thought rainy season would be a drag.  Here in Gulu it’s a blessing - settling the dust, cleaning the town a bit and bringing a hush of calm. Knowing what’s coming – dry season – makes one appreciate this even more.  I got a taste of what dry season will be when the wind kicked up this afternoon and I got a another face full of dust.   his will be a dust-bowl by mid-December and I may be putting those bandanas to use as a dust mask. 

Floor sitting is NOT going to cut it.  Don’t know if it’s age, or sitting on concrete – leaning against concrete that’s doing it, but my back is rebelling.  Couches are hard to negotiate – they have to be made and there is much discussion around cost and wood and is it seasoned and how would I know until three months down the road it splits. Also, they say “It is much because it is mahogany.” You cannot convince them that you don’t need or want mahogany. “Yes you do you are Muzungu/Munu.”  But I am realizing that two years on the floor, even with cushions is probably not going to cut it.   So the search goes on.

Am bit-by-bit feeling more a part of this place.  Went to the market and bought veggies, mats, a beautiful woven straw hamper and oil for the lantern – all using my Acholi.  People are patient letting me practice with them – they’d rather speak English, but tell me “Ha! You a fluent!  How long have you been here?”  God I wish my language tester could here this…  Interesting what happens in town when the locals see you carrying things like a mop, local broom, mats and household things.  It signals that you’re not a Mzungo staying in a hotel – that you’re living here in their neighborhood as opposed to the high end compounds. A Mzungu who does her own laundry and cleaning???  Always met with surprise.

Well – certainly there is a good mystery on my Kindle.  So this was written Tuesday and published today.  Never did bite into a good mystery - still working on Obama's The Audacity of Hope.