Friday, December 25, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
red-eye mutatus and good decisions.
so - transportation here in uganda is dangerous. always. every single time i board any mode of transport (even my own two legs), i am sincerely risking my life. i'm not saying this to be dramatic, i'm saying it because it's a fact.
now, sure, some vehicles are safer than others. people (of the white variety) often vehemently curse boda-bodas...which happen to be my very favorite way of getting from point a to point b. i use them on an almost daily basis (who wouldn't?! it's a buck for a crazy motorcycle ride!) and i have never been in an accident. i've been in an almost accident about 100 times, but that's neither here nor there.
i would say the most risky traveling experience i've had has been on what i like to call the 'red-eye mutatu'. as i've said before, mutatus (also called taxis) are 15 passenger vans and there are HUNDREDS of them in uganda. they travel all over the country. the drivers are infamously crazy and i have been now hit (more like bumped aggressively) by two of them whilst strolling on the streets of kampala. they are equally annoying, convenient, and cheap.
the red-eye is a special breed of mutatu though. i like to think of it as more underground and i feel more african having experienced it and even just knowing about it (you can now add two cool points to your mental assessment of me). my first time traveling on it was when i went to kapchorwa. i didn't want to pay to stay overnight in an expensive lodge that my friends were staying in, but it was already 10:00 p.m. and the normal taxis had stopped running. the person driving me to the lodge mentioned that he 'knew a guy' who made trips from kapchorwa to kampala every saturday morning, leaving around 2:00 a.m. instant fear and excitement struck me which channeled itself as a laugh. he said, 'i'm serious!' and i said, 'so - am i, what's his number?' in true african style, we just so happened to be close to this guy's house so we pulled over and i met him, exchanged numbers, and he agreed to pick me up in about 4 hours.
sure enough, 2 a.m. rolls around and i get a phone call from andrew, the taxi driver. 'rachel - i am outside the lodge! are you coming??' i rolled out of the bed i was so graciously offered by my roomie and went outside. i climbed in and assessed the situation. 15 passenger van, 12 people - this is a miracle in uganda. i've never been in one that wasn't crammed! my excitement was premature. about every fifteen minutes for the next hour, the taxi would slow and a figure would step out from the shadows along the side of the road and into the (pitiful) beams of the headlights. the driver inevitably stopped and we added another sardine to the can. my spacious seat vanished before my eyes and i found myself sharing a space made for one person with at least two others. with my heavy backpack on my lap and a woman singing in luganda at the top of her lungs in my ear, i somehow fell asleep. when i woke up an hour later, there was a live chicken right next to my foot and the singing woman was claiming my shoulder as her pillow. what i wouldn't have given to have a photo at that moment. the rest of that trip consisted of me drifting in and out of non-productive sleep. i dreamt about more singing and a man clapping and a chicken flapping my sandaled feet with it's wings. then i realized i wasn't dreaming, :).
we got to kampala around 6:30 a.m. and of course, a trusty boda was waiting at the stage where i got dropped off. i hopped on with no greeting and simply said, 'muyenga/bukasa sabo...and hurry, i need to sleep' he said, 'mzungu - you are tired! you give me 6,000 shillings!' i said, 'i'll give you 4,000 - take it or i jump off' he drove me home very safely.
the second time i got the red-eye was last weekend. i was in mbale for the week and i wanted to stay until friday night for the proctor's christmas party - best people and food ever, why would i leave?! but i know that traveling to kampala on a saturday is ridiculous and traffic is awful. so...i called andrew and asked him to pick me up saturday morning at 3:00. he told me it would be no problem. so, after some great food and fun with the proctor's and my mbale friends, i hung out in the CURE guest house until andrew came. like clockwork, he called at 3...'rachel!!!! i am at the CURE place. are you coming or i go?' me - 'coming andrew, hang on.' i ran outside the gate and the guard giggled at my sweatpants and luggage that i was dragging behind me. before i could stop them, they threw my bag on top of the taxi (thank goodness it made it to kampala with me!). i still had my backpack and crawled into the front row. i had my ipod in and was grooving for about an hour. i didn't even get annoyed when my seat partner snuggled up against me for a nap. john mayer was in my ears and i wasn't squished! an hour and a half into the four hour journey, we picked up a small family. for some reason, two of the children decided to sit in the front row with me, my snuggle buddy, and the conductor (guy who collects money for the driver). that means five people in three seats. i instantly got annoyed and started sweating. i now had a child asleep in my armpit and a man's arm hooked through mine while sleeping on my other shoulder. i put up with it quite well in my opinion until the young chap behind me decided to puke all over the floor. then i said, 'right peeps...let's get some windows open.' ugandans hate wind therefore they hate having the windows open. after a brief fight with my comrade to the right, i won and sat gripping the window open for fresh air. my feet were now up on the seat with me. for at least an hour i sat with a butt cramp. never have i been happier to see a boda. he didn't even argue with me for my price. i got dropped off at home around 7 and slept til noon.
i'm aware that traveling four hours through dark bushland is probably not the safest endeavor in the world. but that's why you're hearing about it now and not before i did it. i didn't want pat to worry about anything for no reason - now she knows i make intelligent decisions, :).
now, sure, some vehicles are safer than others. people (of the white variety) often vehemently curse boda-bodas...which happen to be my very favorite way of getting from point a to point b. i use them on an almost daily basis (who wouldn't?! it's a buck for a crazy motorcycle ride!) and i have never been in an accident. i've been in an almost accident about 100 times, but that's neither here nor there.
i would say the most risky traveling experience i've had has been on what i like to call the 'red-eye mutatu'. as i've said before, mutatus (also called taxis) are 15 passenger vans and there are HUNDREDS of them in uganda. they travel all over the country. the drivers are infamously crazy and i have been now hit (more like bumped aggressively) by two of them whilst strolling on the streets of kampala. they are equally annoying, convenient, and cheap.
the red-eye is a special breed of mutatu though. i like to think of it as more underground and i feel more african having experienced it and even just knowing about it (you can now add two cool points to your mental assessment of me). my first time traveling on it was when i went to kapchorwa. i didn't want to pay to stay overnight in an expensive lodge that my friends were staying in, but it was already 10:00 p.m. and the normal taxis had stopped running. the person driving me to the lodge mentioned that he 'knew a guy' who made trips from kapchorwa to kampala every saturday morning, leaving around 2:00 a.m. instant fear and excitement struck me which channeled itself as a laugh. he said, 'i'm serious!' and i said, 'so - am i, what's his number?' in true african style, we just so happened to be close to this guy's house so we pulled over and i met him, exchanged numbers, and he agreed to pick me up in about 4 hours.
sure enough, 2 a.m. rolls around and i get a phone call from andrew, the taxi driver. 'rachel - i am outside the lodge! are you coming??' i rolled out of the bed i was so graciously offered by my roomie and went outside. i climbed in and assessed the situation. 15 passenger van, 12 people - this is a miracle in uganda. i've never been in one that wasn't crammed! my excitement was premature. about every fifteen minutes for the next hour, the taxi would slow and a figure would step out from the shadows along the side of the road and into the (pitiful) beams of the headlights. the driver inevitably stopped and we added another sardine to the can. my spacious seat vanished before my eyes and i found myself sharing a space made for one person with at least two others. with my heavy backpack on my lap and a woman singing in luganda at the top of her lungs in my ear, i somehow fell asleep. when i woke up an hour later, there was a live chicken right next to my foot and the singing woman was claiming my shoulder as her pillow. what i wouldn't have given to have a photo at that moment. the rest of that trip consisted of me drifting in and out of non-productive sleep. i dreamt about more singing and a man clapping and a chicken flapping my sandaled feet with it's wings. then i realized i wasn't dreaming, :).
we got to kampala around 6:30 a.m. and of course, a trusty boda was waiting at the stage where i got dropped off. i hopped on with no greeting and simply said, 'muyenga/bukasa sabo...and hurry, i need to sleep' he said, 'mzungu - you are tired! you give me 6,000 shillings!' i said, 'i'll give you 4,000 - take it or i jump off' he drove me home very safely.
the second time i got the red-eye was last weekend. i was in mbale for the week and i wanted to stay until friday night for the proctor's christmas party - best people and food ever, why would i leave?! but i know that traveling to kampala on a saturday is ridiculous and traffic is awful. so...i called andrew and asked him to pick me up saturday morning at 3:00. he told me it would be no problem. so, after some great food and fun with the proctor's and my mbale friends, i hung out in the CURE guest house until andrew came. like clockwork, he called at 3...'rachel!!!! i am at the CURE place. are you coming or i go?' me - 'coming andrew, hang on.' i ran outside the gate and the guard giggled at my sweatpants and luggage that i was dragging behind me. before i could stop them, they threw my bag on top of the taxi (thank goodness it made it to kampala with me!). i still had my backpack and crawled into the front row. i had my ipod in and was grooving for about an hour. i didn't even get annoyed when my seat partner snuggled up against me for a nap. john mayer was in my ears and i wasn't squished! an hour and a half into the four hour journey, we picked up a small family. for some reason, two of the children decided to sit in the front row with me, my snuggle buddy, and the conductor (guy who collects money for the driver). that means five people in three seats. i instantly got annoyed and started sweating. i now had a child asleep in my armpit and a man's arm hooked through mine while sleeping on my other shoulder. i put up with it quite well in my opinion until the young chap behind me decided to puke all over the floor. then i said, 'right peeps...let's get some windows open.' ugandans hate wind therefore they hate having the windows open. after a brief fight with my comrade to the right, i won and sat gripping the window open for fresh air. my feet were now up on the seat with me. for at least an hour i sat with a butt cramp. never have i been happier to see a boda. he didn't even argue with me for my price. i got dropped off at home around 7 and slept til noon.
i'm aware that traveling four hours through dark bushland is probably not the safest endeavor in the world. but that's why you're hearing about it now and not before i did it. i didn't want pat to worry about anything for no reason - now she knows i make intelligent decisions, :).
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
six months...and counting.
buckle up - this here's gonna be a long one.
we're back to the lowercase letters. it's easier to type this way and also, i'm not in college and i'm not writing a paper so whatever, i do what i want, :).
i don't even know where to begin. it feels like sooo much has happened since i last posted. some worth writing about, some not - i'll probably include some of both.
i recently tried to write a poem about why i'll never make a great poet. the reason i couldn't write it is because my reasoning for why i'll never make a great poet is so true. you see, when i write, i can't narrow things down. i tend to beat things/ideas/concepts/trains of thought until they are completely dead. i like to really nail down what i'm saying using parentheses, ellipses, back slashes, brackets, hyphens - really, i'll use anything that lets me keep adding descriptive words. poetry is about vague references and succinct phrases. i'm all about run-on sentences. the more the better.
anyway - i'm saying all this because i was just in ethiopia and trying to explain it to all of you is gonna be a headache. i'll try but it's gonna be cliche, long, inundated with adjectives, and probably confusing. here goes...
ethiopia was a place of D.R.A.M.A. everything seemed exaggerated there. the gap between the poor and the rich was huge - much bigger and much easier to see than in the other countries i've been in. the patients at the hospital were literally among the craziest cases i've seen here. i felt more blessed there than i have in maybe my entire life and a stronger sense of injustice than anywhere else as well. i'll explain...
first, there were the gokcen's, a family from yardley (right outside philadelphia!). eric is the medical director at CURE ethiopia. he and his wife, corinne, live in addis and serve - they are amazing. they had me over to their place for dinner, t.v., and games practically every night. i was unbelievably lucky to have been in their care and their generosity left me humbly overwhelmed. great (home-cooked) food, the philadelphia eagles, and rook...i could have cried i was so happy. they also have a son, curt, who is my age and it was so nice to have a youngin around while i was traveling. it's usually just me and whoever works at the hospital. i could go on and on - just know that the gokcen's are good people. great people. all the staff were fantastic at the ethiopia hospital. so kind, so friendly, sooo helpful. i feel like i got so much accomplished there (work-wise) and i'm really starting to feel 'in the groove' of what i'm doing.
then, there were the patients. ethiopia had some incredible stories. mohammed is a boy that has lived at the hospital since february. he was badly burned in a fire when he was 8 months old and his leg healed with his right heel stuck to his right butt cheek. so, he hasn't ever walked and he is 12 years old! they operated on him and 'unstuck' (pardon my lack of medical terminology) his leg and he is now in therapy, learning how to walk for the first time. this kid has a killer smile and would melt hearts all across the world if he traveled, :). tarikwa was the little girl that i e-mailed everyone in my life about. if you didn't get an email, sorry. quick explanation: she lives in a REMOTE part of ethiopia and finally made it to the CURE hospital. she had a benign tumor growing in her nasal cavity that would have suffocated her within the next three months. it just so happened that less than a month after she got to the hospital, there were two amazing german surgeons scheduled to come to some operations. they were this girl's only chance of survival and they removed the tumor and saved her life! it was nothing short of a miracle! in addition to these two gems, there were three different patients that literally had their faces bitten off by hyenas. the plastic surgeon reconstructed what was left - incredible. last one: there were 10-15 patients there that were suffering from a disease called 'noma.' wikipedia it if you want an explanation. basically, a lot of these people were missing sections of their faces. no nose, missing an eye, or missing a cheek. shocking, humbling, and if you don't mind me saying, UNFAIR.
in all of these things, i found the richest fulfillment and the most heart-wrenching pangs of anger. the fulfillment came from the satisfaction of knowing that lives were being changed dramatically and that i got to witness it. i got to stand in on surgeries, play with some of the sweetest children in the world, and photograph every part of it. the anger came from wondering why? why these people? honestly, i've been here six months and i've never felt emotions that strong. part of it has been because i'm constantly counting down the days til i get to see my family and be home. i forget to look back at what i've seen and where i've been. the LORD has given me a protective kind of eye in all of this. i've gone to the hospitals and thought, 'look at all the good being done. look at all the people truly living out their vocations in life.' and i felt that more than ever at the hospital. but at least once a day, different thoughts would creep into my consciousness. i would think - but why? why is this necessary? why do horrible things/accidents/tumors/diseases exist in the world so that hospitals like CURE are necessary? it seems like a simple question. it's one that we ask about any type of pain - why does it happen? but i just don't know - i can't begin to answer it, i'm not even really looking for answers. i just know that i asked it genuinely for the first time at the hospital.
so i left ethiopia on friday and my head was spinning - i cried a little on the plane. for lots of reasons. i really didn't feel ready to leave ethiopia, i got pretty attached to most of the patients there and a lot of the staff to be honest. i wanted the plane to be flying to philadelphia, not kampala. i was ready to see my family. it's not like i need to stay there, but i needed to see my momma. i was also pretty sick and my ears were popping. AND there was a kenyan man sitting next to me that was def hogging the arm rest and i really wanted it! i was pissed that i was pitying myself after seeing actual problems (you know, like missing a nose). all these factors made me all snotty and teary the whole way back. then the taxi was late picking me up and it took almost 3 hours to drive back to my house from the airport. i was crabby. thank goodness my roomie was there to salvage the night with an episode of the office, :).
so i have been in kampala, reorganizing life, hanging out with some friends (watching a lot of 'its always sunny in philadelphia' and 'greys' - also went to a spinning class last night...50 cent and faith hill on the track list, haha), eating good food, etc. life is good there. but you all know this.
anyway, i came to mbale today to get some footage for the u.s. this place is also great. i get to see the proctor's, hang out with derek, and enjoy jack fruit (i will miss that so much when i get home). i don't have many interesting things to post. nothing funny that i can think of. i'll try to get some pics on here or a story soon! miss you all and love you! (countdown: 88 days!)
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