essentialmidwifery

I’m so used to planes leaving first thing in the morning, that I overestimated how long it would take to get out if town for a 6:15pm flight. I think I’m one of those people who work best under pressure. (But doesn’t everything think that? Well, everyone but my mother, who is fully packed three weeks before she goes anywhere. ) By 11 am, I had yet to put a single thing in my new, huge, bright blue I-could-climb-Mt.Everest-but-I-won’t because-I-don’t want-to-make-you-feel inferior backpack. By 12:30, Anna and Mitchell had just walked in the door from breakfast, and by 1:30, half an hour before my appointed time to leave for the airport, I had decided to completely switch carryons, almost leaving the anti-maleria prophylactics on the bed.

Wonders of wonders, come 2:30, merely half an hour past our original estimate, we had hugged the dog, found my sunglasses, and were on the road. The airport was basically empty when we arrived, which is my favorite kind of airport. Saying goodbye to Pat was hard, as always. Ursula K. LeQuin said, “If you can’t marry money, at least don’t marry envy.” Well, I did good on both counts. He has never been anything but incredibly supportive of the bizarre things I decide to do , and this was no exception. I love him unconditionally, and I just can’t imagine doing what I do (or anything really!) without him.
I was told conflicting stories regarding visas for Uganda. Everyone up to and including our contact in Uganda and the US state department, told us we could get them on the ground. For $50. Everyone, that is, except British Airways, who couldn’t actually make up its mind. So, rather than be sorry, I was safe, and bought them beforehand. For considerably more than $50. It seemed to work, as the counter lady just smiled at us, and complemented our backpacks. I’m still not convinced. (About the visas. Our backpacks are uncountably rad.)
We got through security with no hassles; we didn’t even have to go through the full body scanners. Dinner at the airport Anthony’s, a tram ride to the S terminal, a photo in front of the huge 747, and off we went!

Our first stop was London, were we spent our 9 hour layover encased in a small pod, sleeping, and attempting not to shower on each other. Look up Yotel. The only available word for them is cute, overused though it may be. Smaller than my bedroom at home, these mini hotel suites remind me of a beautifully painted submarine berth. With a toothbrush holder. These are clearly a Japanese invention, and rank up there under Ichiro, but above Hello Kitty as my favorite import.
When we got on the next plane, I was thrilled to see both “Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull,” AND “Return of the King” were playing on our personal entertainment systems. It was so nice to be going on this journey with friends!! I mean, Indy has probably already been to Uganda at least ten times, and Aragorn is so hot, it just doesn’t even matter. Naturally, exactly seven minutes after starting a movie, I fell asleep. Thank you, Ambien! I love you. I want to marry you.
Entebbe airport is very clean, and actually, at least today, AK-47 free. Also rooster free ,thank God, unlike last year’s Davao adventure. We were met by Ben, a Celine Dion loving, NASCAR worshipping love of a man who manages to talk intelligently about Ugandan building techniques while simultaneously not getting killed by turning left into traffic. I appreciated this so much, although I was still so tired that I may not even have noticed. After picking up Kristin, the center director, we drove for about two and a half hours, Anna falling asleep almost immediately.

As the pollution and traffic snarls faded away, I was struck by how absolutely beautiful this country is. It reminds me a bit of the Big Island, with hills that roll, clouds that race, and people who wave. And it is so clean! The red dirt roads look almost like a movie set; I wouldn’t be surprised to all of sudden bust through a huge picture of the road, a la “The Muppe t Movie.” The internet says it is the dry season, but it still rains frequently enough to keep the dust down. There are chickens everywhere, of course, and cows with horns that would make the University of Texas weep for the beauty.
Our digs in Kasana are a thick, mud paste house, painted white, inside a tall fence. Unlike my home in the PI, there is no concertina wire. I took this as a good sign. Anna and I are sharing a large bedroom, with a large bed, and a mosquito knew with large holes. I’m putting my faith in Malerone and deet to save us from that particular malady. Shanti rents two of the houses in the compound, one for the director, Kristin, and one for the volunteer. The other houses the landlord and her family, including the a very vocal, very opinionated three year old boy named Boy. They tell me that “Boy” is the Lugandan equivalent of calling somebody Junior, and belive them.. Its just hard for me to shake the American racial overtones, so he and I have compromised on “KIddo.”

A word about communications, or lack thereof. Jodilyn says she is living in 1999, where she has to buy internet time by the minute. I’m living in 1990, where the internet is kept in large rooms, outside of one’s own home. In this case, the nearest hook-up is at Read Uganda, an NGO (non-governmental organization) about a quarter of a mile away. They seem happy to let me buy some of their internets, but schedules being what they are, I’m just not sure how often I will be able to update. Also, there is almost no power here. I’ll do my best, because I miss you all.

Off to sleep, the jet lag is winning, and my mosquito net is calling. And Jodilyn, we also have a lizard on our wall. His name is Bob. Anna is playing flashlight tag with him. I don’t quite know where this will end.