The Mzunga adapts well

I'm finally in Uganda. It's been five tough months of fundraising efforts, an eight-hour delayed flight and an inappropriate blog post later (see previous post) and here I am, sitting in my single bedroom, listening to the rain and taking advantage of the limited Internet access I have.

The days have been packed full of activity and every time I go to bed, I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow - despite having to adjust to the the foreign concept of a mosquito net.

Yesterday was very interesting. We met with an official from CIDA as well as the leader of the opposition in Uganda. Although I'm not incredibly interested in schmoozing with politicians and people that have "power" it was cool to see the parliament building.

We also went to our friend Carol's house and her sister's restaurant. While we were eating, a group of boys kept poking their heads around the corner to watch us eat. After we finished eating, a few of us talked to the kids; John gave some of them Jolly Ranchers and I took some videos of them. They were overjoyed to watch the videos after so it was very encouraging to be able to put smiles on their faces - although I'm sure they would be smiling no matter what.

At the end of the following video, you'll see that there's a moment of blurriness. The kids were just so excited to see themselves on camera that they nearly ripped the camera out of my hands to watch.


The children seemed unique at first but I noticed the same smiles on their faces that I've seen on the faces of Canadian children. Sure, there are many differences between Canada and Uganda but there are many more similarities than a lot of people might allow themselves to recognize.

Before coming to Uganda, everyone was asking me if I was excited to go and were trying to feel out my emotions but to be completely honest, I wasn't excited in the way that we often identify with. I haven't recently felt the type of excitement that I felt when Reyn first told me that they wanted me to come on the trip with them. That was more like a jumping up and down, screaming kind of excitement - something I think many people were searching for in me just days prior to my departure. I think if I had been at that level of excitement so close to the trip, I wouldn't have been able to stay grounded and be able to observe to the extent that I have been able to already.

My main thought when I decided that I want to travel is to bring recognition to the fact that we are all part of one humanity. Even though all of us are guilty of searching for differences in order to maintain the "us and them" mentality, we really are all the same. Cliche but true... at least, in my eyes.

Kampala is just another city to me. I compare Kampala to a dusty version of Toronto. And actually, much friendlier. The drivers work in organized chaos and although it's difficult to cross the road sometimes, numerous people have stopped for us to cross. You'd rarely see that happen in Toronto. Whether or not this is occurring out of friendliness (which I hope) or because most of us are white, is another story in itself. But the fact is, in those instances, there is a connection there between the driver and the pedestrian because the driver can understand how difficult it can be for someone to cross the road at a peak time.

Friends that I am making here have been asking me what I find the most shocking about Uganda. I find myself searching for words. Yesterday we saw a young boy (likely disabled) standing on the street completely naked, I've seen children under the age of five begging on the street late at night, locals shout "Mzungu" (a supposedly friendly term for "white person") in my face as I walk by and bartering is still very prevalent in the markets but I haven't really been shocked by anything that I've seen yet.

In fact, after having that very conversation with David (a masters student that I'm sure I'll write more about soon) I thought about it for awhile and came to the conclusion that the only thing that I've really been taken aback by is seeing the amount of clothing that people wear in this heat.

Although I'm not sure of exact temperatures, it's hot enough to get me sweating after walking down the street, even at a slow pace. Yet, some locals run around in suits and I don't see a drop of sweat coming from them. The other day, as we were all chugging back litres of water, I saw a guy wearing a jean jacket and a khaki vest. Aside from the obvious fashion flaw, the amount of clothing he had on in that moment is what blew me away.