Tubasanyukidde or Welcome!

I've taken on many challenges in life; keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week, successfully eating entire pints of Ben & Jerry's in a single sitting, and managing to survive my first two years of college. Now I take on the daunting task of keeping a blog during my one month stay at Amagezi Gemaanyi Youth Association (or for those of who have no idea how to pronounce that... AGYA), an educational community center in Kampala, Uganda.

While this is mostly is to keep my dad from pulling a Liam Neeson in Taken, it hopefully will provide some entertainment for those of you (aka my family and the people I pay $5/hr to pretend to be my friends) tired of watching Sex in the City re-reruns, bored at your internships, or sick of looking at the same newsfeed on facebook. Well, you've been warned.


Monday, July 25, 2011

Fallin

Well the halfway point of the trip has finally come. It feels like I’ve been here for ages, yet still no time at all. Two weeks without running water; two weeks of bucket showers; two weeks of teaching and hanging out with some of the coolest kids; and two weeks of crazy good times and adventures. Now the cool thing about being here for two weeks already is that now I’ve picked up on the cultural norms (whether they’re things I’m all for or totally against) and some key words in Luganda.

Muzungu = White person/Foreigner.
Ogambaki (pronounced ogambachi) = How are you.
Jamu empale = remove your pants.
Nyongera Omwenge = Give me another round.
Amazzi = water
Amaazzi =Shit.
Webale = Thank you.

The kids in the village still chant every time we pass. This whole time we thought they were saying “Bye Bye Muzungu” …only to find out that they actually were saying “Ba Ba Muzungu,” which means “The muzungus are coming!” Children are now surprised to hear us respond by asking them how they’re doing today. We also know how to dress appropriately, wash our clothes by hand, and how to haggle with Bota Bota drivers when we go into the city. Everyday we feel more and more apart of the Nabulagala community (the slum we are living in).

Now the 5 people who read this blog maybe thinking, Taylor (or as my 5 year old boyfriend Tata pronounces it Taylah...that is when he remembers my name) why entitle this blog entry "Fallin"? Well, there are a couple of reasons. As I mentioned earlier, I truly feel like im getting more and more of the cultural experience. So that naturally lead me to get my entire head braided by Fahrida and Sharon aka Diva (two young girls who live and work at AGYA). The process took close to five hours, due the massive amount of hair my Latina-Jewish Roots have so graciously provided me. Since there are no mirrors in the house, I was excited to see the reflection of myself in the window out front. When I caught a glimpse of the 5 hours of hard work dear Fahrida and 'Diva' had done, I found myself to resemble something in between a young Alicia Keys circa 2001 and an escaped convict from the Compton Women’s Correctional Facility. I was a hit among locals who had to wait a few seconds before realizing I indeed am a muzungu (or wait for the shock of my new bad ass look to settle in).

I was intrigued to find that my BAMF status braids gave me a certain sense of empowerment (Ugandan women are constantly re-styling their hair here). A couple of days ago a few of us were grabbing bota botas, motorcycle taxis that can carry up to 3 people (as well as goats, and several stacked mattresses). Unlike America, Uganda doesn't seem to feel the need to abide traffic laws and regulations, so basically driving in Uganda is a free for all...as well as a huge cluster fuck (pardon my English). Many people will warn you about going on bota botas. They speed, they zip in and out of traffic, and are constantly avoiding near-death accidents. They also are a total adrenaline rush. So timing is everything here. Anyway, a couple of days ago, Sean (an AGYA volunteer) and I hoped on a bota and right as he was telling me how he had just read an article saying how dangerous botas could be...our bota took a sharp turn and crashed (eye muffs mom and dad). Luckily it was a soft fall, there wasn't any traffic at the time, and I came out only losing a leg.

JOKES. I'm sure I'll now lose a leg, maybe even both, for having said that but hey you only live once. All I did was mess up my toe (which probably did my homeless looking feet some justice…as well as contributing to the badass look). Can't wait to see the look on the woman from Delacey's face when she has to give my fu man chu feet a pedicure. Sucker.

While my braids have provided a sense of power and invigoration, they’ve also made me scared shitless of my reflection. So the process of taking out my Alicia Key/Ex con braids has begun. My hair is currently what they call, "Afro-kink" (a look aspired by many women in Uganda, the process usually taking hours)...but to me it looks more like I tried to crimp my hair and the crimper exploded. While I thought this would instantly repel anyone in a 5 mile radius, it seems to only attract them more.
For instance, today I was asked by a man selling eggs and Chipati (the Ugandans version of a tortilla) "what's you're name and do you have an address?" Why yes, indeed I do sir thank you for asking.
Later on our way to the internet café, a man drinking out of a plastic bag of gin called out to us. He mumbled some words in Luganda with a smile and then gave what I took to be an attempt of a wave. I was later informed that he said something along the lines of “Screw you and your mother.” People truly are very welcoming here. And being able to catch a few words here and there really makes me feel like I'm becoming less of a muzungu and more apart of the Nabulagala community.

Anywhoo gotta finish taming my afrokink.

P.S. download the song "Sawale" it kicks ass and is the current anthem of our trip.

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