Things that drive me crazy...

“Ugandan time” —you can expect Ugandans to come anywhere between an hour late to never.  Often, they won’t ‘pick’ their phones when you try calling; or if they do, they are always “on de way”, which really just means that they are probably still at home. 

The first project I worked on in Kampala as a volunteer was an HIV/AIDS Awareness Day.  It was quite eye opening as to how Ugandans actually work, which is to say, not very efficiently.  I had this contact at the local hospital that I was working with to mobilize the community for the event.  We had a series of meetings set up for the mobilization; with each meeting, his timeliness got worse and worse.  One meeting he was 2 hours late and “on de way”; another meeting he just didn’t show up, or answer his phone.  I left after 2 hours.  The next time I saw him was at the event, and I chastised him a bit on how rude his behavior was, especially for a muzungu, whom takes time seriously, blah blah blah.  A colleague later told me that my actions were rude to him!  At that same event, my emcee showed up 4 hours late and still wanted to be paid in full.  And my ‘big event’, a big-name Ugandan musician, showed up 2 hours late, just in time to see us packing up, and declared he won’t perform because there weren’t enough people. 

The men while walking down the street—for some reason it is just hilarious to call after me.  When I ignore them, you can be sure that entire groups of men will be cracking up about it for some time.  I get a lot of “Hey, sexy/beautiful” “I love you” “MUZUNGU HOW ARE YOU” (from some distance across the street, which is not a greeting in this case) and the ever present kissing noises as they pass.  A few try to grab my arm as they walk by also. 

Lack of clarity—you can have entire conversations here that just go round and round, because you can never seem to get the proper information you need to make the conversation make sense.  For example, I received a text message from a colleague from Kampala (in town to help with the project) the other evening: “is it too late for 2moro, coz i was attending there office early 2moro.”  Don’t get it?  I didn’t either, and had no idea to what he was referring.  I respond with: “I don’t understand your message, pls explain.”  His response: “I mearnt cant i see doz guys 2moro.”  Me: “What guys?  Pls be more specific.”  And of course, I heard nothing back from him.  And of course, he showed up for work the next morning 3 hours late.  When I called him to ask when he was coming for work, his response…ya, you got it… “on de way”.

Boda bodas—or motorcycle taxis, are incredibly dangerous here.  Now, I’m not a lightweight…I rode motorbike taxis pretty much everyday in Thailand, and even drove them myself through Laos, parts of Thailand, and Bali.  In Kampala, you have the matatus (minibus taxis) and the cars, and the bodas, all competing to get ‘there’ fastest.  While it’s still crazy, often the road congestion slows things down.  Out here in small-town Hoima, people drive like @&*holes.  They all drive as fast as possible on short, dirt roads.  The boda bodas are the worst, attempting to reach Mach 3 in 100 yards, just for the sake of it.  And they have two games they play: drive as close as possible to the pedestrians and see who can get closest without hitting them, and drive as fast as possible while honking and see who can get farthest without hitting someone.  Not to mention they also piss me off because they sit in their little ‘gangs’ and harass me as I walk by.  And when I say ‘gangs’, I kinda mean it.  There are many a story about one boda guy getting ripped off, or hit by a car, or generally put-out, and the entire ‘gang’ goes after the perpetrator.  This is a culture where mob mentality is still very real.  I read in the paper just the other day about a man who was lynched for stealing.  

Now, don’t get me wrong…I don’t hate it here.  I’m really looking forward to seeing my project come together, am learning a lot about beekeeping (bees are really fascinating!) and trying to enjoy living a simple life.  I enjoy my staff and want to start learning some Runyoro, the local language.  I’ve even started exercising…well, that’s more because I can’t bear getting in my FREEZING cold shower without first getting hot…but the point is that I’m getting healthier.  So it’s not all bad.