Interacting with another culture is a lot of work. You really don’t realize how much until you come home for the evening and just have no more energy. It’s exausting to be speaking another language and interacting with people who are so different all the time. It’s a lot of work just to make yourself understood.
It’s even harder when you are technically living in two worlds. Wednesday morning I woke up from a dream about the FAFSA in a state of near panic. Joel made me take the day off and I spent the whole morning filling out forms, making phone calls and sending emails. The result: I have successfully applied to both RTS (which I should be hearing from on Tuesday) and UTC (which will take a few more weeks). I also did all my banking and applied for three or four jobs. Whew. Joel reminded me that these little daily things of life are all part of the missionary experience.
That evening, we made dinner for our family. Lauren and I did the whole process: we went to the market and bargained for vegetables, we walked home and prepared them, and right before we were going to start the power went out. So we cooked on a gas stove by the light of a lantern. Dade and Dara helped with cooking and preparing the vegetables and the four of us spent about two hours in the kitchen. It took a whole lot longer, but it was really fun, and the food turned out great. Daily life in Uganda: hard but good.
Then yesterday I taught kindergarten down the street. It certainly keeps you on your toes. There are no copiers or worksheets, so everything the students do has to be made up as you go along. Add to that the average class size of around 50, and it is quite a challenge. But fun. The kids hugged me goodbye and told me they loved me, and they are so precious.
Last night I made dinner for the guys on our team and our fried chicken took so much longer than it should have, but was certainly the better for the wait. In the US we would have just stuck the chicken in the microwave, but our only option was a gas camping stove.
A few other misdemeanors:
1. Getting lost. I asked a boda driver to take me to Nkokenjeru and ended up in Ruharo. They’re both suburbs of Mbarara, and they’re right next to each other. Not the end of the world, right? An hour later, I finally found the people I was supposed to meet. I was hot and tired and very sunburned. Now I know not to get off the boda unless you know where you are.
2. In the village market, I was kindly greeting an older woman in Rinyunkoli. The danger is when people think you know more than you actually do. In a few minutes, we were having a complex conversation in which the only words I understood were “abaana” and “ente”–children and cows. I said “ego” (yes) and “nimanya kakiie” (I know only a little) a few times before finally escaping. A few steps down the road I met Janessa and Josiah, who asked me where all the children came from. I turned around to see a group of 20 children, whom I had apparently just purchased for a bunch of cows!
So life in Uganda, like everywhere, is hard, but good.
20 kids for a couple cows? Sounds like you got exactly what you wanted!