Christmas Rains and a Country Club

I know what you're thinking....  Is is ALWAYS raining in Uganda?  Because in most of my entries there is a comment about rain.  So, in answer to that, it doesn't always rain, but when it rains it is always fairly torrential and all movement in any direction short of getting out of the rain ceases.   Often, that's why I am inside and have a moment to write - and yes, I almost always have the computer with me because I'm still a bit concerned it will grow legs and walk away.  I'm not quite understanding this "dry season" threat, but I hear even in areas where it's a reality, three are the "Christmas rains."  I think this is one of them.  And it's chilly - and here in my temporary refuge there is the first Christmas tree I've seen actually in place and decorated in all of Uganda.  So I'll take this as a gift.

This rain finds me having escaped the doldrums of the Bukota Guest House and hobbled to the Kabira Country Club just down the road.  And my friends, this is a side of Uganda that most of us don't see - unless you're in Kampala on Medical and you use your entire day's per-diem and then some for a meal.  I have done precisely that.  Having just moved inside,  the rain is coming down with a vengeance through a canopy of wrought iron and Bougainvillea, Palm trees and other lush tropical greenery.   The Olympic size swimming pool has emptied and an army of little kids have shrieked inside dragging their towels and floats in their wake.    I've finished my latte and it was appropriately decadent, topped with a two inch froth and a drizzle of chocolate sauce.   I am a real sucker for a good cup of dark roast coffee - in fact that is where no small portion of my per-diem has gone: to finding and imbibing in really good coffee known to chase the Grinch away.

Since Peace Corps has sent out a notice warning people showing up at HQ, this will be day three of hanging out in the burbs with myself, a stack of books, language flash cards and a computer with limited and random Internet access.  I know at some point in my life I will relish being able to sit and do nothing - but this is not that point and I'm tired of sitting and doing nothing.  (Yes - I'd like a little cheese with that whine... )  Back to the falling wall - which is serious, and with this rain, more will certainly come down.  This is not the first time it's happened, so PC is scurrying to move offices into temporary space and find a different place altogether I hear.  Dr. Quissiga (spelling - sorry doc) has called to say he is bring supplies and that he'll bring enough for me to start doing my own dressing changes which I can easily do now that I don't have to "pull" skin off.   The end is near ;-)

Kabira is a gorgeous place and I do see how it would be a sweet life as an Expat here in certain parts of Kampala.  But one would have to inure oneself against the reality of what's beyond this manufactured abundance.  It would be hard to keep those "rose tinted glasses" clean for long and I'm content with a peek through them.  I find myself missing some tastes, friends and conveniences, but oddly enough most of us - and I include myself - are really quite content (secure in the knowledge that this is not forever and that we have options) with fewer choices, just a few pairs of clothes and supply of terrible candles, etc.  I WANT things from time to time, but need is probably not a word I would use.  Still, my head is turned by some of the lovely homes with manicured tropical gardens tucked into the seven rolling hills of Kampala and I've put some effort and funds into making  home-away-from-home reasonably comfortable and functional.   But this is a Country Club in the Western sense of the word.

So - wrapping up in time to hopefully be picked up by Dr. Quissiga - (also know affectionally as Dr. Uganda) and not make him wait.   A ride anywhere is a fine thing and not to be trifled with.

Ah - the rain, which had slackened to a mere gully washer, is back up to typhoon proportions.    Again - glad I have a ride!    Oh! And I hear there's another volunteer headed to the Bukota - it is seldom tomorrow - it's seldom with a few PCVs.