Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Aug 31
I had a great day today. This morning I ran to the other side of Mukono to talk to the head of an NGO that serves isolated villages that are on islands in Lake Victoria. I have been twice to his office and he keeps telling me to come back later. This sums up my experience trying to get involved with non-profit organizations, it's difficult to get any commitments. After nearly getting ran over by a boda boda, I went on a walk with Jeremy, our new neighbor and a law student from the University of Georgia doing research here. He's super interested in East African politics and has told me a lot about the conflicts Uganda and it's neighbors are faces. On our walk to downtown, Jeremy and I swapped spiritual experiences/favorite scriptures, which was awesome. I loved learning about his Methodist faith and the strength it has given him. After we went to the canteen (super cheap restaurant/cafeteria) and then went to the children's library. I fixed bookshelves and read to kids (mostly Mckay) for a couple hours. Then me and dad went on splits with the elders. Dad got to set up a baptismal date with a truly amazing investigator and I traversed two valleys over to a house where the investigator wasn't home. It was fun contacting and learning from the examples of the amazing elders. In total I walked into town three times (almost two miles both ways) and probably two or three more with the elders.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Aug 30
In one week from right now I will be in Entebbe boarding a plane for Europe and I don't want to leave. I love everything about this country and its people. I feel like I'm just starting to learn Luganda and now I have to leave that all behind. More importantly than that though, I don't want to say good bye to the people. Our ward is amazing.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Aug 27
We went on two trips in the last week; one to Ssisegwa falls and the other to Jinja/Bujagali/Mbira. Both are touristy areas east of Mukono. Pretty fun, not much to talk about though. I did add some pictures on facebook.
It's sad how much people label whites with having a lot of money. Tourist locations here receive little attention from Europe/US so when a foreigner does come, everyone is on their toes trying to get their fair share of our money. There literally is a "white" price and a "black" price on everything. Paul, a friend from the ward, was telling us that he would spend no more than one half of what we paid to go to Jinja, and we thought we were getting a good deal. We have had similar experiences at the fruit market, although I have found that speaking Luganda lowers the price significantly. Still amazingly cheap though. Pineapples the size of a football cost around 50 cents.
There's an interesting paradox I have been noticing lately: Ugandans don't care about money. You would think that citizens of a third world nation would be ones scrimping for every penny, but then you would be wrong. In fact, I had a friend tell me I worry too much about money. Interesting, huh?
When I told someone that I was poor in Luganda, they corrected me. Apparently that phrase literally means "I have nothing," unlike our phrase which means I have a little. I love how their language reflects their culture! It's pretty simply and is spoken languidly (something I need to work on). I also love how day to day people are here. No one plans ahead. No one even asks what time it is. Time just kinda flows and when you do make commitments they usually fall through. I'm loving it.
Unlike Americans, Ugandans are unashamed to classify you by skin color. Saying "Hey white person" is not offensive (although Mckay is still irritated by it). In fact little kids love yelling "Mzungu, mzungu" when ever we pass. An white elder from South Africa said his favorite response is "Nwenda kolya" or "I am going to eat you." Unfortunately my dad has prohibited us from using it. When kids say "your white" I am going to start saying, "and Jesus still loves me!"
On our second trip we went to a dinky village isolated in the middle of a rain forest. Everyone was living off the land in housing made of mud, sticks, and straw. That was shocking. While on the subject of shocking, this week I went to an investigators house. He shared 64 square feet with his brother and was extremely proud of his situation. Most Americans live in what? 2000 to 3000 square feet?
Spiritual experience: I was struggling to make headway in my studies this last week when I realized that I had been reading the scriptures after finishing my school work, usually when I was exhausted and ready to hit the sack. I changed my ways, waking up an hour earlier to read the Book or Mormon. What a difference! I am able to focus better and life has run more smoothly. I know that when we put God first in our lives, we will see the positive consequences.
We recently found that the on-campus cafe sells heaping plates of food for only a dollar; even I struggle to finish their lunches. The local food they serve is extremely filling, although nearly void of taste. I might hit my "freshman fifteen" before stepping foot on campus as a freshman!
Anyway, that's about all I can write about for now. I should add that starting Monday I am going to writing on this daily. I have a class requiring daily journal writing, and I think a blog counts.
Have a fun weekend!
Eric Reuben Smith
It's sad how much people label whites with having a lot of money. Tourist locations here receive little attention from Europe/US so when a foreigner does come, everyone is on their toes trying to get their fair share of our money. There literally is a "white" price and a "black" price on everything. Paul, a friend from the ward, was telling us that he would spend no more than one half of what we paid to go to Jinja, and we thought we were getting a good deal. We have had similar experiences at the fruit market, although I have found that speaking Luganda lowers the price significantly. Still amazingly cheap though. Pineapples the size of a football cost around 50 cents.
There's an interesting paradox I have been noticing lately: Ugandans don't care about money. You would think that citizens of a third world nation would be ones scrimping for every penny, but then you would be wrong. In fact, I had a friend tell me I worry too much about money. Interesting, huh?
When I told someone that I was poor in Luganda, they corrected me. Apparently that phrase literally means "I have nothing," unlike our phrase which means I have a little. I love how their language reflects their culture! It's pretty simply and is spoken languidly (something I need to work on). I also love how day to day people are here. No one plans ahead. No one even asks what time it is. Time just kinda flows and when you do make commitments they usually fall through. I'm loving it.
Unlike Americans, Ugandans are unashamed to classify you by skin color. Saying "Hey white person" is not offensive (although Mckay is still irritated by it). In fact little kids love yelling "Mzungu, mzungu" when ever we pass. An white elder from South Africa said his favorite response is "Nwenda kolya" or "I am going to eat you." Unfortunately my dad has prohibited us from using it. When kids say "your white" I am going to start saying, "and Jesus still loves me!"
On our second trip we went to a dinky village isolated in the middle of a rain forest. Everyone was living off the land in housing made of mud, sticks, and straw. That was shocking. While on the subject of shocking, this week I went to an investigators house. He shared 64 square feet with his brother and was extremely proud of his situation. Most Americans live in what? 2000 to 3000 square feet?
Spiritual experience: I was struggling to make headway in my studies this last week when I realized that I had been reading the scriptures after finishing my school work, usually when I was exhausted and ready to hit the sack. I changed my ways, waking up an hour earlier to read the Book or Mormon. What a difference! I am able to focus better and life has run more smoothly. I know that when we put God first in our lives, we will see the positive consequences.
We recently found that the on-campus cafe sells heaping plates of food for only a dollar; even I struggle to finish their lunches. The local food they serve is extremely filling, although nearly void of taste. I might hit my "freshman fifteen" before stepping foot on campus as a freshman!
Anyway, that's about all I can write about for now. I should add that starting Monday I am going to writing on this daily. I have a class requiring daily journal writing, and I think a blog counts.
Have a fun weekend!
Eric Reuben Smith
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Aug 22
The last three days have been amazing!
On Saturday we had a "Mormon Helping Hands Day." All of the church membership in Africa united to serve through community projects. We cleaned up an orphanage in the neighboring town. All 23 people that showed up crammed into a taxi that was meant to fit fifteen (in America it would have been 10 or so) and sang hymns. I got to cut the grass of the orphanage with these machete-like things that Ugandans use for trimming grass. We also got to give the children one of the soccer balls we brought to donate.
While serving I talked to three different refugees from the Rwanda genocide in 1994. Although all lost love ones, I was amazed at a guy named Douglas's story. He lost 8 brothers, 4 sisters, and a mom. I can't even imagine the heartache he must feel when he remembers his past.
Everyone I talk to wants to come to America. My response: I like Uganda better. They are shocked when I tell them that no one greets strangers in America, something that is common place here.
No one I invited to church showed up. It was sad.
Anyway, that's what's up in Uganda.
Eric
On Saturday we had a "Mormon Helping Hands Day." All of the church membership in Africa united to serve through community projects. We cleaned up an orphanage in the neighboring town. All 23 people that showed up crammed into a taxi that was meant to fit fifteen (in America it would have been 10 or so) and sang hymns. I got to cut the grass of the orphanage with these machete-like things that Ugandans use for trimming grass. We also got to give the children one of the soccer balls we brought to donate.
While serving I talked to three different refugees from the Rwanda genocide in 1994. Although all lost love ones, I was amazed at a guy named Douglas's story. He lost 8 brothers, 4 sisters, and a mom. I can't even imagine the heartache he must feel when he remembers his past.
Everyone I talk to wants to come to America. My response: I like Uganda better. They are shocked when I tell them that no one greets strangers in America, something that is common place here.
No one I invited to church showed up. It was sad.
Anyway, that's what's up in Uganda.
Eric
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Aug 19 part B
One story that needs to go on this blog:
We were playing soccer when I told someone that I wasn't wearing the right shoes (I had running shoes on). He responded, "you can walk in them, right?" After I said I could, he said, "then they are good shoes!"
Let's not forget life's many blessings that can so easily be forgotten.
We were playing soccer when I told someone that I wasn't wearing the right shoes (I had running shoes on). He responded, "you can walk in them, right?" After I said I could, he said, "then they are good shoes!"
Let's not forget life's many blessings that can so easily be forgotten.
Aug 19
Quick post:
While playing soccer, I found out that I was pronouncing "pass the ball" wrong. I was saying, "I'm satisfied." That got some laughs. It was nothing compared to the language mix up I had today though. Both my dad and I gaining confidence in Luganda, showing off to some friends. Turns out, we pronounced "amazzi" (water) as "amazze" (feces). Yep that was possibly the most embarrassing moment in my life.
Yesterday I went out with the missionaries for five hours. It was absolutely inspirational. Not once did they get shut down for an appointment/contact. The elders would go up to a stranger and mixing English with Luganda they would ask, "do you want to talk about Jesus?" Within a minute or two, they had appointments and phone numbers. Obviously a lot of that can be traced to the openness of Ugandan culture, but I still felt invincible walking home. One lady even set up a baptismal date.
There are hardly any fences in Mukono and because roads are few and far between, many times you walk through backyards to get places. The roads are narrow and riddled with pot holes. Major highways are about the diameter of Timpview Drive, although when unjammed, people drive in the 50's.
I tried bartering in Luganda today. It was a failure. About three sentences in, we had to switch to English. It is fun watching people light up when they realize you are making an effort to learn their language. Most whites don't even try.
Ugandan culture is not super open to change (partly due to their lack of seasons-- they don't even have a word for fall/winter/summer!), but their assimilation into Western culture is very prevalent. Although their culture is slow and people-centered, American/European influence is changing that. Because there are no land lines and the cell phones are pay-as-you-go, people talk really fast on the phones to save money (counter-culture). The introduction of cars and motorcycles also has a quickening effect. It's interesting that almost all advertisements use models with lighter complexions. People wear "stylin'" jackets because they see Americans doing so, although they definitely don't need them (it's always in the 80's temperature-wise). I'm a little perturbed by the west's dominant relationship with Uganda. You can literally see Satan using this change to introduce sin (although the pervasiveness of temptation, specifically in the media, is lagging ours by 15-20 years).
People start grunting when they agree with what you are saying, so mid-sentence you will here chains of grunting. Hilarious. I am picking that up. We also have a guy in my ward who sounds exactly like Julius the lemur king from Madagascar. He even uses phrases similar to the ones you hear Julius say in movies. Oh is that funny.
My studies are going well; I am about a third of the way done with my material for BYU.
We went to the embassy for security training. One of the things recommended was to be "unpredictable." In other words, change your schedule so creepers don't figure you out. Mckay and I have taken that to a whole new level. When dad asks us why we start spontaneously skipping, we say it is because we are being "unpredictable."
So that wasn't a short post. My bad. The great think about blogging is that if you get sick of hearing about Uganda, you can stop reading! Well have a good week mi amigos.
Eric
While playing soccer, I found out that I was pronouncing "pass the ball" wrong. I was saying, "I'm satisfied." That got some laughs. It was nothing compared to the language mix up I had today though. Both my dad and I gaining confidence in Luganda, showing off to some friends. Turns out, we pronounced "amazzi" (water) as "amazze" (feces). Yep that was possibly the most embarrassing moment in my life.
Yesterday I went out with the missionaries for five hours. It was absolutely inspirational. Not once did they get shut down for an appointment/contact. The elders would go up to a stranger and mixing English with Luganda they would ask, "do you want to talk about Jesus?" Within a minute or two, they had appointments and phone numbers. Obviously a lot of that can be traced to the openness of Ugandan culture, but I still felt invincible walking home. One lady even set up a baptismal date.
There are hardly any fences in Mukono and because roads are few and far between, many times you walk through backyards to get places. The roads are narrow and riddled with pot holes. Major highways are about the diameter of Timpview Drive, although when unjammed, people drive in the 50's.
I tried bartering in Luganda today. It was a failure. About three sentences in, we had to switch to English. It is fun watching people light up when they realize you are making an effort to learn their language. Most whites don't even try.
Ugandan culture is not super open to change (partly due to their lack of seasons-- they don't even have a word for fall/winter/summer!), but their assimilation into Western culture is very prevalent. Although their culture is slow and people-centered, American/European influence is changing that. Because there are no land lines and the cell phones are pay-as-you-go, people talk really fast on the phones to save money (counter-culture). The introduction of cars and motorcycles also has a quickening effect. It's interesting that almost all advertisements use models with lighter complexions. People wear "stylin'" jackets because they see Americans doing so, although they definitely don't need them (it's always in the 80's temperature-wise). I'm a little perturbed by the west's dominant relationship with Uganda. You can literally see Satan using this change to introduce sin (although the pervasiveness of temptation, specifically in the media, is lagging ours by 15-20 years).
People start grunting when they agree with what you are saying, so mid-sentence you will here chains of grunting. Hilarious. I am picking that up. We also have a guy in my ward who sounds exactly like Julius the lemur king from Madagascar. He even uses phrases similar to the ones you hear Julius say in movies. Oh is that funny.
My studies are going well; I am about a third of the way done with my material for BYU.
We went to the embassy for security training. One of the things recommended was to be "unpredictable." In other words, change your schedule so creepers don't figure you out. Mckay and I have taken that to a whole new level. When dad asks us why we start spontaneously skipping, we say it is because we are being "unpredictable."
So that wasn't a short post. My bad. The great think about blogging is that if you get sick of hearing about Uganda, you can stop reading! Well have a good week mi amigos.
Eric
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Aug 17
It's pouring today, so my brother and I are stuck in the apartment. Anyway, I haven't figured out how to post pictures on this blog quite yet, so all the pictures taken thus far are on facebook.
Life has been going great lately. I played soccer with my priest quorum brothers yesterday, which was absolutely awesome. Half of the players played barefoot and the other half played with heavy duty boots; I was the only guy with real sports manufactured shoes. It must be anti-culture for girls to play soccer with men because when I pulled a girl watching into our game (against her will) and shouted, "she said she wanted to play!" everyone stop and stared. Mucho awkward. Speaking of awkwardness, I accidentally asked a kid "what are your teeth named," when I was trying to ask him his name in luganda. He started laughing and I didn't know why until a friend told me what happened.
I am so proud of my African accent. Yesterday a muzungu (white person) thought I had grown up in Africa because of my English. It gave me a warm fuzzy.
The separation between the white and the black community is really disgusting. This barrier is two-sided. The whites are skeptical of any friendliness shown by the natives because they feel that they are trying to use a friendship to get at their money (selfishness...). I think the natives feel that the whites are too stuck up to really connect too, but I might be wrong (judging..). Anyway, I feel the faculty at this university are especially exclusive, a stereotype I want to shatter!
I love Ugandan culture. No one is ever in a hurry. Most people arrived at our ward activity an hour (or more) late. Our driver said he had an appointment thirty minutes before he finally left us. People leave their chickens/goats/cows out to graze in the open, as well as leaving their clothes out to dry on community lines. Everything is shared. That's probably why they struggle to connect with westerners, because they don't share in the same way. Then again, if they did, they would be facing poverty just like everyone else.
Because of the corruption of the Ugandan government, friends really get you places here. For example, in our orientation at the embassy, we were told a story of my dad's predecessor. Government officials asked her to pay a teaching "bond," worth about 500 US dollars. Lucky for her, she had befriended an influential clergyman who talked to the president of Uganda, easily persuading him to let her off the hook. It's probably because this version of corruption is everywhere that people come up to me asking to help them get into BYU. I think they are hoping that I could talk to an admissions worker and let them in. The sad thing is that these people don't stand a chance to get into any American college, let alone BYU. They would need to get into the "Harvard" of Uganda and maintain a high GPA to even have a shot at BYU.
Well my horizons in medical service aren't looking good. Apparently they have had too many whites tell them what to do, and really don't let you get involved. You need to have an MD to do just about anything in this country. But all is not lost. I am looking at helping teach kids soccer or building infrastructure through church development projects. I just need to pray to figure out how best to use my time.
Today we had a maid come in and clean our apartment for three and a half hours. We paid her five dollars. That's pittance right? Wrong. Apparently we could have paid her one fifth that amount. She was a single mother with four children. No work skills, rudimentary English.
One of our security guards is probably going to give me a Luganda name. I'm pumped.
Looks like I've ran out of things to say. Hope you guys have an enjoyable rest of your summer. Over and out.
Eric
Life has been going great lately. I played soccer with my priest quorum brothers yesterday, which was absolutely awesome. Half of the players played barefoot and the other half played with heavy duty boots; I was the only guy with real sports manufactured shoes. It must be anti-culture for girls to play soccer with men because when I pulled a girl watching into our game (against her will) and shouted, "she said she wanted to play!" everyone stop and stared. Mucho awkward. Speaking of awkwardness, I accidentally asked a kid "what are your teeth named," when I was trying to ask him his name in luganda. He started laughing and I didn't know why until a friend told me what happened.
I am so proud of my African accent. Yesterday a muzungu (white person) thought I had grown up in Africa because of my English. It gave me a warm fuzzy.
The separation between the white and the black community is really disgusting. This barrier is two-sided. The whites are skeptical of any friendliness shown by the natives because they feel that they are trying to use a friendship to get at their money (selfishness...). I think the natives feel that the whites are too stuck up to really connect too, but I might be wrong (judging..). Anyway, I feel the faculty at this university are especially exclusive, a stereotype I want to shatter!
I love Ugandan culture. No one is ever in a hurry. Most people arrived at our ward activity an hour (or more) late. Our driver said he had an appointment thirty minutes before he finally left us. People leave their chickens/goats/cows out to graze in the open, as well as leaving their clothes out to dry on community lines. Everything is shared. That's probably why they struggle to connect with westerners, because they don't share in the same way. Then again, if they did, they would be facing poverty just like everyone else.
Because of the corruption of the Ugandan government, friends really get you places here. For example, in our orientation at the embassy, we were told a story of my dad's predecessor. Government officials asked her to pay a teaching "bond," worth about 500 US dollars. Lucky for her, she had befriended an influential clergyman who talked to the president of Uganda, easily persuading him to let her off the hook. It's probably because this version of corruption is everywhere that people come up to me asking to help them get into BYU. I think they are hoping that I could talk to an admissions worker and let them in. The sad thing is that these people don't stand a chance to get into any American college, let alone BYU. They would need to get into the "Harvard" of Uganda and maintain a high GPA to even have a shot at BYU.
Well my horizons in medical service aren't looking good. Apparently they have had too many whites tell them what to do, and really don't let you get involved. You need to have an MD to do just about anything in this country. But all is not lost. I am looking at helping teach kids soccer or building infrastructure through church development projects. I just need to pray to figure out how best to use my time.
Today we had a maid come in and clean our apartment for three and a half hours. We paid her five dollars. That's pittance right? Wrong. Apparently we could have paid her one fifth that amount. She was a single mother with four children. No work skills, rudimentary English.
One of our security guards is probably going to give me a Luganda name. I'm pumped.
Looks like I've ran out of things to say. Hope you guys have an enjoyable rest of your summer. Over and out.
Eric
Monday, August 16, 2010
Sunday Aug 15
Today we had a great time at church. Their priest quorum is AWESOME!!! Some of the best people in the world are in that group, no joke. We are walking about 1.6 miles to church one way, but that makes our meetings all the more spiritual. Great people. We were asked to bear our testimonies in sacrament meeting and I hope the congregation understood me, because we all struggle to understand them. Sometimes their accents are so thick you aren't sure whether they are speaking English or Luganda. People say we "look smart" when we are dressed in white shirts because that is an expression denoting that you look "sharp." Funny. Probably because the people who have the means to dress like us are those that are educated. New goal: bear testimony entirely in Luganda. I'm on my way. I now know how to say, "this is the church of God" in Luganda.
Anyway, we are going to FHE at the church tomorrow which is apparently a big party with fun and games. I'm pretty excited. Luganda is the most dialectual languages ever. Depending on where people are from in the area, you will get different pronunciations. I won't be able to train for a marathon as I had hoped because the air here is junk (everyone burns firewood for cooking). I'm still trying to get over that.
Anyway, we are going to FHE at the church tomorrow which is apparently a big party with fun and games. I'm pretty excited. Luganda is the most dialectual languages ever. Depending on where people are from in the area, you will get different pronunciations. I won't be able to train for a marathon as I had hoped because the air here is junk (everyone burns firewood for cooking). I'm still trying to get over that.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Aug 12
Greetings from Uganda! Sorry it's taken me an eternity to start emailing, jet lag definitely paid it's toll in France. Here's me trying to remember what's happened on our trip so far:
When we reached Paris we found that the hotel where we were going to store our bags only accepted Europeanized credit cards. That meant we would have to haul our 300 pounds of medical supplies across town on bustling metro and train lines. One of our trains broke down and we had to squeeze on a train full of glaring Parisians who were undoubtedly wondering why we needed so many bags. I'm sure they thought we were a trio of high-maintenance Americans who need their whole wardrobe to survive a vacation. Yah those bags were filled with life-saving medical equipment. Moral of the story: don't judge.
Besides someone trying to pickpocket my dad (luckily my dad's catlike reflexes saved the day), the rest of Paris was quite uneventful. We ate like royalty at amazing bread shops for three days. It was glorious.
We flew to Amsterdam before boarding a sparsely populated flight to Entebbe, Uganda. On my row there were five empty seats! Anyway, that scared me a little bit (knowing that we were heading to a place that no one wanted to go). This fear evaporated when I realized that I could lay down on the four empty seats around me. I slept like a brick.
Within two minutes of stepping off of our plane, both my brother and I received our inaugural mosquito bites. We were grateful for the malaria pills we had taken that morning. This luxury cannot be afforded by most locals, and because contracting malaria doesn't procure a lifelong immunity, many suffer from its debilitating symptoms time after time.
A driver from the embassy greeted us at the airport and drove us to our hotel. That drive was the most terrifying ride I have ever had in my entire life. The roads in Uganda are pure anarchy. Little motorcycle taxis (mbuti buti's) seem to have no fear of the nearly equally reckless cars, making for a white knuckle experience. Through the darkness we could see the destitute slums of Entebbe and Kampala, filled with buildings that seemed ready to fall apart any second. Expecting to be sleeping in a shack, we rolled up to the most extravagant hotel I have ever seen, furnished with leather furniture and marble flooring. Guys, it was disheartening. Within a mile of our 5 star hotel, people were living without plumbing/electricity, living off of practically nothing. You would expect to see these people devoid of happiness, but then you would expect wrong. I honestly have never seen a happier people. Everywhere you go, you see smiles on the very same people who you know are going to bed hungry each night. Amazing isn't it? The media preaches that money will bring us happiness, but this is anything but the truth. Living righteously is the one and only path to true happiness.
This morning Uganda Christian University sent a driver to take us to Mukono, about an hours drive. The drive turned into a Lugandan lesson. Emmaneul, our driver, rewarded our correct pronunciation with grunts and complements in almost incomprehensible English. Despite his praise, I'm pretty sure we are struggling. Walking around the city we would say, "Osiibe otya nno nyabu" or "oli otya ssebu" (good afternoon or what's up?) to strangers: about half responded. Yep, this language is kicking my trash. My goal is to learn how to keep up a conversation by the time we leave, but that will definitely be a challenge. I was blessed to find a phrase book that includes a health section, so I hope to assimilate the language into my service at the local clinics. That's one big hope though.
Anyway, sorry for the lengthy email. I'll strive to keep these letters as brief as possible, partly because I know you are all extremely busy with school around the corner and also because I need to spend time on my studies/learning Lugandan. Thanks for being supportive friends!
Eric Smith
When we reached Paris we found that the hotel where we were going to store our bags only accepted Europeanized credit cards. That meant we would have to haul our 300 pounds of medical supplies across town on bustling metro and train lines. One of our trains broke down and we had to squeeze on a train full of glaring Parisians who were undoubtedly wondering why we needed so many bags. I'm sure they thought we were a trio of high-maintenance Americans who need their whole wardrobe to survive a vacation. Yah those bags were filled with life-saving medical equipment. Moral of the story: don't judge.
Besides someone trying to pickpocket my dad (luckily my dad's catlike reflexes saved the day), the rest of Paris was quite uneventful. We ate like royalty at amazing bread shops for three days. It was glorious.
We flew to Amsterdam before boarding a sparsely populated flight to Entebbe, Uganda. On my row there were five empty seats! Anyway, that scared me a little bit (knowing that we were heading to a place that no one wanted to go). This fear evaporated when I realized that I could lay down on the four empty seats around me. I slept like a brick.
Within two minutes of stepping off of our plane, both my brother and I received our inaugural mosquito bites. We were grateful for the malaria pills we had taken that morning. This luxury cannot be afforded by most locals, and because contracting malaria doesn't procure a lifelong immunity, many suffer from its debilitating symptoms time after time.
A driver from the embassy greeted us at the airport and drove us to our hotel. That drive was the most terrifying ride I have ever had in my entire life. The roads in Uganda are pure anarchy. Little motorcycle taxis (mbuti buti's) seem to have no fear of the nearly equally reckless cars, making for a white knuckle experience. Through the darkness we could see the destitute slums of Entebbe and Kampala, filled with buildings that seemed ready to fall apart any second. Expecting to be sleeping in a shack, we rolled up to the most extravagant hotel I have ever seen, furnished with leather furniture and marble flooring. Guys, it was disheartening. Within a mile of our 5 star hotel, people were living without plumbing/electricity, living off of practically nothing. You would expect to see these people devoid of happiness, but then you would expect wrong. I honestly have never seen a happier people. Everywhere you go, you see smiles on the very same people who you know are going to bed hungry each night. Amazing isn't it? The media preaches that money will bring us happiness, but this is anything but the truth. Living righteously is the one and only path to true happiness.
This morning Uganda Christian University sent a driver to take us to Mukono, about an hours drive. The drive turned into a Lugandan lesson. Emmaneul, our driver, rewarded our correct pronunciation with grunts and complements in almost incomprehensible English. Despite his praise, I'm pretty sure we are struggling. Walking around the city we would say, "Osiibe otya nno nyabu" or "oli otya ssebu" (good afternoon or what's up?) to strangers: about half responded. Yep, this language is kicking my trash. My goal is to learn how to keep up a conversation by the time we leave, but that will definitely be a challenge. I was blessed to find a phrase book that includes a health section, so I hope to assimilate the language into my service at the local clinics. That's one big hope though.
Anyway, sorry for the lengthy email. I'll strive to keep these letters as brief as possible, partly because I know you are all extremely busy with school around the corner and also because I need to spend time on my studies/learning Lugandan. Thanks for being supportive friends!
Eric Smith
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