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