Two Years In, Two Months Out

Exactly two years ago, 45 strangers embarked on a journey together, having touched down on African soil (a first for many of us) at Entebbe Airport at approximately 6:00PM on August 11, 2010.

We originated from all different parts of the United States. Wisconsin, California, Virginia, New Jersey, Texas, Iowa, Maine. Some of us had very extensive travel experience; others had never previously been out of the country. Some of us just graduated from college; others were leaving husbands, wives, and children behind. We came in with a variety of experiences, perspectives, interests, backgrounds, and reasons for joining the Peace Corps. Racially, we were not a diverse group, but individualistically, we were an incredibly diverse and unique group.

Now that I really think about it, it boggles my mind that I've lived in Africa for nearly 1/12 of my life, two years that have given me far more than I have given it.

What does it mean numerically, living in Uganda for 730 days?

4 training groups, about 160 PCV's, have sworn in throughout that time. A little fewer than 729 nights have been slept under a mosquito net. 3 mango flies have been extracted and squeezed out of my left leg. I have fathered 1 dog and 2 cats. 24,000 books have been sorted, labeled, cataloged, and shelved at various schools around Uganda. 20 pounds have unintentionally been lost. 1 Boston sports team (Bruins) won the Stanley Cup, another (Patriots) broke my heart by losing in the Super Bowl, another (Celtics) infuriated me by choking to the egocentric "King James" and the Miami Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals, and one (Red Sox) can't even play .500 baseball at the moment. The weather never dipped below 65 degrees. Many friends have been made, both in Peace Corps and in Kachumbala.

More than just numbers, though, living in Africa for 730 days has made me even more so appreciate my family, friends, and life back home. It has taught me new things about myself, and reaffirmed things I already knew. It has exposed me to new customs and different ways of thinking about things. It has exposed me to cultural quirks I will never again be exposed to. Unless history repeats itself, and I make a baby cry because of my muzungu exterior, become the victim of another person's vomit, or have the unfortunate priveledge of eating matooke or posho.

Here's to the 44 other people I started this crazy journey with two years ago!


January 2011 - A post-IST shot of the majority of our group on the Nile River

October 2011 - A Midservice shot of all 45 of us still in Uganda

What's in store for me the last two months?

Officially opening Kongunga Secondary School's new library in September when school starts back up, and working alongside Denis, the newly hired librarian, to ensure that everything runs smoothly (pictures on the way). Filling out and reading COS paperwork. Refining my resume. Having my final medical checkup. Cementing travel plans and booking flights. Reflecting. Savoring every last minute I have here. Saying my (hopefully not final) goodbyes.  

Countdown to October 12th

October 12th = Closing-of-service (COS) date.

I plan on traveling for a month or so to Turkey (Istanbul), Israel (Tel Aviv, Haifa, Jerusalem), Spain (Barcelona, Madrid, Granada, Sevilla, Tarifa), and Morocco (Tangier, Chefchaouen, Fez, Marrakech, Casablanca), so it's looking like I will be home for good around mid-November.

Can't wait!

The Beginning of the End

Next week, July 10th-13th, marks my training group's COS (closing of service) conference, essentially the beginning of the end, and what we've all been working toward since we arrived in Uganda nearly two years ago.

The conference is when we receive our official departure dates (September-October) and return tickets back to Obama Land, discuss the process of readjusting back to American life, learn about the various benefits of gaining official PC status, start to think about potential job prospects after Peace Corps, and evaluate/reflect upon our service as a whole over the past two years. It is also the last time we PCV's will all be together as a group in country.

For me, it feels really bitter sweet.

On the one hand, COS felt like years away last October at our mid-service conference. There have been days, if not weeks, where I have reguarly counted down the days to COS. Without question, I look forward to reuniting with family and friends after a two-year absence. I look forward to reenjoying the luxuries (washing machines, dryers, dishwashers, hot showers, reliable internet, paved roads, flat-screen TV's) of America, certainly none of which I will ever again take for granted. I look forward to gorging on all the Chipotle, Coldstone, and home-cooked cookin' I can stomach. I look forward to the freedom of driving, the ability to drive wherever, whenever, without having to cram five people to a seat. I look forward to timeliness and structure. I look forward to tuning into NESN everyday to cheer on the Pats and Sox. I look forward to facing my unknown future head on, seeing what life has in store for me next.

On the other hand, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't scared shitless (pardon the derogatory language). I've created a life here in Uganda over the past 23 months for which I'm very comfortable and can't fathom leaving. I've formed some great friendships (of which I hope to maintain) with people whom I don't know I will ever see again. I certainly won't miss the boredom, but I will miss the freedom to do what I want where and when I want to do it. I will miss the quirks of Uganda, the "only in Uganda" and TIA moments. I will miss Nurali's delicious chicken tikka, as I imagine they will equally miss my business. I will miss the rare moments for which I feel that I truly am making a positive impact in the lives of the people of Kachumbala. I will miss my dog, who has been a loyal and loving companion. I will miss Flo, Silver, Tina, Apio, Junior, Emma, and everybody else at Kachumbala Mission, whom have seemingly become a second family to me.

Therefore, for these and many other reasons, I have mixed feelings about COS rapidly approaching next week. It feels surreal to think about where I started from so many months back to where I am and what I know now. For all the ups, downs, frustrations, euphoric moments, challenges, and successes I've had during my time here, I am grateful for having the unique, once-in-a-lifetime experience that is Peace Corps.

My Namesake

This past month, Flo, one of my best friends in the village, delivered her fifth child.

In Uganda, it is common for one to be given two names: a local/village name and a Christian name. The baby was given the Christian name Silver (after her father, the parish cook) and the local name "Apollo" (meaning development in Ateso), named after, yes, me. An honor to say the least!

I look forward to returning to Uganda in 5, 10, 15 years down the road to see how child Apollo feels about being named after a muzungu!

Baby Apollo and Mama Flo

Take 2

Posing for his namesake's camera

Tick Fever

The past few weeks have been trying, painful, and potentially life-threatening for Fugoso. A few weeks ago, he returned from one of his typical evening strolls - visiting other dogs/competing with other males for the right to mate with the village female - with a deep wound on the bottom-half of his front right leg. Thinking that it was merely an innocent cut, I didn't think too much of it. Not until he started behaving strangely, not acting himself. He refused to eat. He slept all day. He didn't bark at other dogs. He didn't follow me out of the Mission. He kept his head down. He could hardly stand for more than five seconds without falling back down again. He was visibly very sick.

At first, I thought that he was bit by a rabid dog, the deep wound on his right leg as proof. Being the concerned father and owner that I am, I had a Mbale veterinarian rush out to Kachumbala to take a look at him. The veterinarian diagnosed him as not having rabies, but rather tick fever.

Tick fever? How could he have tick fever when he wears a tick repellant collar daily, and is washed with a tick/flea repellant shampoo every 3-4 days?

Apparently, all it took was the bite of one infected tick for the disease to spread.

Tick fever, or ehrlichiosis, is a tick-borne disease of dogs caused by the organism Ehrlichia canis. Dogs get ehrlichiosis from the brown dog tick, which passes an ehrlichia organism into the bloodstream when it bites. Minor symptoms include fever, fatigue, and loss of appetite. The disease stays with the dog for the duration of its life, if left untreated.

The veterinarian promised to return to Kachumbala the following day to administer the treatment (injections). He never came, nor did he bother to call. I was enraged. Here, my dog hasn't eaten in 4+ days, having probably lost 1/4 of his weight, and the vet can't even bother (nor have the decency) to call me.

Frantic, I make my way into Mbale to the animal pharmacy the next morning, demanding to know from the vet why he failed to show. His answer? He needed a break from work. Oh, okay. Livid, dissatisfied, and refusing to leave, I caused enough verbal commotion at the pharmacy - Ugandans generally avoid confrontation - to get a different vet to come back with me to Kachumbala to administer the injections.

All the vet told me was that he would give Fugoso three injections: one to treat the symptoms of tick fever, another to increase his appetite back up (having not eaten in days), and an antibiotic. What the vet failed to inform me, however, was that the antibiotic would render Fugoso immobile. He legitimately couldn't move or walk for the next 48 hours. The next 48 hours happened to be last weekend, Uganda Martyrs' Day, when hundreds of people would make their way to/camp out at the Mission to honor the 22 Catholic martyrs who sacrificed their lives for religious freedom. Of course my luck would have it that the one day there'd be 2,000+ people at the Mission was the same day Fugoso could barely walk.

In the early morning of Martyrs' Day, I found Fugoso camped out in my backyard, sleeping in the middle of a field where the celebrations were to take place. I repeatedly tried moving him back to my room so that he wouldn't disturb the celebrations, nor would mobs of children disturb him. No such luck. Everytime I tried carrying him, he yelped in pain. I even tried rolling him over a tarp, and carrying the tarp to my room. He refused to move. I felt helpless. So I did what any other owner, concerned for his dog's life, would do: I sat with him for 7+ hours, throughout the entirety of the celebrations, to ensure that he wasn't disturbed, stepped on, or stoned. Luck would again have it that Fugoso allowed me to carry him back to my room immediately after the celebrations concluded.

Despite rendering him temporarily immobile, the injections successfully treated him. Fugoso is now eating, barking, begging, chasing children, and back to his usual stubborn (which he got from his owner) self.

If anything, the experience has made me feel more guilty and worried about leaving him behind come October. Because if he were to get tick fever again after I'm gone, the disease would likely be left untreated, and he'd have it for the rest of his life. 

The Books Have Arrived!

The Books for Africa container, to which many of you kindly donated, finally arrived in Uganda two Saturdays ago, after months of planning, fundraising/soliciting for donations, coordinating logistics, meeting with school staff, renovating the library room, budgeting for the construction of necessary library furniture (bookshelves, tables, chairs), organizing transportation, meeting with and calling my port agent repeatedly, and waiting (lots of waiting).

Clearing the container from Mbale port/customs proved to be frustrating, tiresome, and no easy task. It took much longer (5 days) than it should have (2 days). To put it mildly, having to resolve a Books for Africa packing issue (no labels that identified the number of books in each box) and dealing with customs/Ugandan bureaucracy - finding out about unexpected charges the day of, people trying to cheat more money out of you, constantly being lied to, waiting for a customs officer to show up to unlock the storage warehouse - was a major pain in my butt.

In the end, though, it was worth it.

This past Saturday, the "Libraries for Life" team sorted the container - comprising approximately 22,000 fiction/nonfiction books, workbooks, textbooks, and reference books - at the Musana Children's Home in Iganga. First, we organized the boxes of books by subject (English Literature, Math, Science, Fiction, Reference). Then, we unpacked each subject of books separately, and sorted them into piles, matching corresponding workbooks with their texbooks. Finally, we divvied up and repacked the books into boxes according to the needs and preferences of our schools. While it was a physically and mentally exhausting process, seeing the tangible result of months of hard work made it all worthwhile.

For now, my school's portion of the books are still boxed and locked in a guestroom at the Mission, until the library room is finished being renovated and a qualified librarian is hired/trained. My current focus is how to ensure the future sustainability of the library at Kongunga Secondary School long after I leave. One idea is that I've formed a Staff Library Committee to be in charge of monitoring the library, and to ensure that it achieves its intended objectives. I've also asked the teachers to nominate two students to serve as Library Monitors; this ensures that students hold each other accountable, and take as much ownership in the library as the staff.

Updates to come!

A truck full of  22,000 books, solar lights, computers, and pens.

2 trucks were barely enough to transport the container to Iganga.

A pile of empty boxes.

Books sorted into piles.

The children at the Home eagerly helped us carry the books to be sorted.

Excited for books!

The Libraries for life crew, minus the photographer.

How To Catch A Bus Thief

I never thought it would, or could, happen to me. Peace Corps staff warned us repeatedly about it during training. I took note of their warnings, but I trusted my gut instincts and skills of perception/observation. I never imagined that I could be the victim of bus theft.

I was naive.

I (and my possessions) was targeted, and I didn't even know it.

January 2011. Aboard Elgon Flyer, heading back to site after spending Christmas with my homestay family, my Mac computer was snatched from my backpack after I left my seat for a short-call. I had stored my backpack in the overhead luggage space above my seat amongst other passengers' belongings. I couldn't have been away for longer than a minute, but it was a minute too long, a minute I still regret, a minute in which I left my backpack, and everything inside it, unprotected.

No, the bathroom break was not worth $1,800 (the value of my ex-MacBook Pro).

The thief was smart. He/she did not steal my backpack, as I surely, hopefully, would have noticed its disappearence, but only my computer and power cable. Upon returning to my seat, it never crossed my mind to check inside my backpack to ensure that everything was still there. It didn't feel any noticeably lighter when I carried it, pack on back, getting off the bus in Mbale. I was completely unaware that my computer was gone until I arrived back in Kachumbala. By then, it was too late.

From then onward, I've sworn to myself never to again make such a stupid, costly mistake. This would soon be tested.

Traveling back to site after Easter weekend a few weeks ago, I was targeted for a second time. This time, I was prepared.

1) Halfway through the trip back to Mbale, the suspected thief quietly moved from the back of the bus into the seat across from mine, even with plenty of other vacant seats available. This was my first warning sign.
2) He continually looked at my backpack. When I'd catch his glance and stare back at him, he'd instantly look away. This happened numerous times.
3) He wore a winter jacket, a winter jacket on a hot day, and carried a briefcase, a briefcase large enough to stash away and hide a stolen laptop (claiming its his own).
4) His body language and facial expressions came off as apprehensive yet alert and preoccupied, as if he had a specific target (my backpack) and objective (to steal it). He did not come off as just any other normal passenger.
5) He seemed to really focus in on the passengers and things around him when the bus stopped for a pit stop midway through the trip. He was actively looking around at the seats in front of, behind, next to, and across from (my seat) his, as if looking for the ideal theft opportunity.

What You Should Avoid:
1) Never fall asleep without first securing/locking your possessions.
2) Never leave your things unprotected and open for the taking, for any period of time, especially if you are traveling alone.
3) Never let your attention get diverted. It only takes a few seconds of distraction for a thief to steal your stuff when you’re not expecting it. Also be aware of potential secondary parties that could be assisting the thief.
4) Never entrust any stranger you just met with your things, even the friendly grandma sitting next to you.

What You Should Do:
1) Always remain alert.
2) Use travel locks to secure bag pockets and zippers.
3) Trust your gut instincts. More often than not, they're right.

My intention for writing this post is not to garner sympathy from readers by recounting my situational stupidity. Rather, I hope that other PCV's, travellers, volunteers, and anyone else reading this can learn from my experience to avoid repeating the same mistake.