Boda-licious

Saturday did not start well as my screwed up internal clock woke me wide awake at 3:30am without hope of further sleep. This may not have been the end of the world under normal circumstances, but my circumstances are not normal and nighttime has a way of intensifying emotions. Due to the fact that I was still feeling unsure, alone and fearful of my 10 month commitment, that gave me about 3 ½ hours to dwell, fixate and turn mole hills into big giant mountains. I was in a sad state by morning. My negative mood was only compounded when I opened my computer to find an email from my mom. I sat there on the floor, a blubbering fool, going on about my woes in what was, in retrospect, quite a pathetic reply. In my defense though, I hadn’t shed a tear since leaving my mom and my sister at security at YVR and as I am quite an emotional being, it was very well stored up inside me waiting for such an occasion. I closed my computer, composed myself the best I could and wandered into the kitchen to find Zeke sitting at the table looking rather forlorn. I sat down beside him and he pulled himself onto my lap, wrapped his legs around me and laid his head against my chest. I couldn’t help but tear up again and he looked up at me with a mixture of confusion and concern leading me to attempt to assure him in a language he didn’t understand that I was ok. Zeke reminded me why I was here and suddenly things didn’t seem so daunting. From that point on, my day only got better and better and that momentum carried on through Sunday.

After lunch, Jessica, Becky, Rachel and I hopped on boda-bodas and made our way into town. I’m no stranger to the back of a bike, but I’m used to the security of having my arms fastened tight around whoever’s driving, but this is not common practice due to its intimate nature, instead using a small metal handle attached to the back of the bike. When I first got on, I half-jokingly asked the driver if he would mind if I felt the need to grab onto him. He found this quite funny and agreed that would be no problem, but to my relief and delight I found such a thing completely unnecessary. The only thing I would have done differently would have been to avoid lubing up my hands with sunscreen immediately before boarding as that made holding onto the smooth metal handle a little precarious. I loved it…the passing scenery, the wind in my face…the element of danger… Town was hot, but not terribly overwhelming. We made stops at the bank to get out some much needed local currency, some basic personal food items from the grocery store, a data stick so I had complete control over my own internet usage and stopped at a common café on main street called The Source for a quick refreshment before taking the 6 or 7 minute ride back home. I have a feeling I will be making the trip often.

Sunday is a day off and we definitely made the most of it. Morning was an improvement for me as I didn’t wake up until 5:30, and although I would have rather been sleeping, I did enjoy hearing Michael W. Smith’s Open the Eyes of my Heart and Brooke Fraser’s Desert Song drifting into my bedroom from the radio the night guard uses to keep himself awake throughout the night. The morning started slow but our first stop was church. It was a missionary church called Acacia Community Church and it’s held outside at the home of the pastor; everyone sitting on lined up plastic chairs under the stippled shade of some beautiful African trees. The pastor was going on about marriage and divorce so I had a hard time paying too close attention due to the fact that the subject matter isn’t something I currently relate to, but I could have just sat there enjoying the community atmosphere, the breeze, the birds and watching the hundreds of little ants crawl up and down a nearby tree trunk. And I especially enjoyed the first introductions to a few of the people in the direct social circle of the Ekisa family and whom I will surely have the pleasure of knowing better in the future. We came home and I barely had time to change before Emily H (the British one) asked if I’d like to go to town, so we set off to run a few errands involving the bank, the market and the grocery store where I was able to do a much more substantial shop due to the fact that we’d driven. This was incredibly important as my breakfasts up until this point have been a piece of toast with Nutella, lunch has been rice and beans (I don’t do well with bland food so I was never able to eat much) and dinner has been Matoke (ma-toke-eh), an even blander concoction that is made with a kind of banana that tastes like potato mixed with a oatmeal-like, blended nut mixture. I was able to eat even less of that. In other words, I’ve been hungry for about 4 days. I wouldn’t have been able to keep that up much longer with the serious risk of losing weight; something I am consciously trying to avoid. I now have fruit, cheese, yogurt, pasta, and some other staples that will keep me from fading away completely. I have to say, the orange that I bought and consumed after my typical rice and beans lunch that afternoon was pretty much the best tasting, most amazing smelling little miracle and I savored every bite. As if that wasn’t enough for one day, after lunch we headed to a nearby resort to swim and read our books pool-side while the Nile drifted by behind us and topped off the evening with a night out at the Black Lantern, a rather upscale restaurant, to celebrate Emily H’s birthday with some of her friends. I am actually quite shocked at how many young British/Canadian/American women there are in Jinja who are fostering or actively adopting children; some who have committed to living in Jinja for the 2-3 year timeframe that is necessary if you’re anything but American. These amazing women humble me.

Each day just gets better and better.