1.1

okay kids, this is what we've got going. that's right, im back. back in the saddle again. i've got limited time at this internet cafe here (i might have to strongarm to desk person for some more time) so what i was thinking was that i would simply record three experts from my journal in one new blog. forgive me if my grammer is lacking or if there are things here which you do not agree with as these are my thoughts only in the first 3 weeks and do not necessarily represent developed experiences. but maybe they do. we will see. also, my shift/caps button is off and on so i will be avoiding it like i avoided being tackled by number 27 in my days of middle school football.

1- The first night, arrival. we stepped off the plane, not into a terminal, but down a series of steps onto the tarmac. My first steps on African soil. The fist aspect I noticed was not the temperature of the air against my body, but the way the air felt as I breathed it in. It was warm and comforting the way I took it in. The air was thick with moisture such that I felt like little drops of water were forming inside my nostrils then slowly, silently fading back out to the air with my exhale. My body agree with these thoughts. As I slowly made my way towards customs i felt wrapped in this big warm blanket of mystery and arrival, like finally it had come. These were the first, overwhelming emotions that i took with me to customs. i levitated on these as i stood in line, waiting to give my passport to a man who had no idea what i was doing there, but would trust what i said...hopefully. As i stood in line, i wanted desperately to be back out in the warmth so i went back out the double doors that were near by. This time though, the overwhelming emotion came from sight. i looked up and saw a sky i had seen many times, but never before in such a manner. the stars were bright but just little specks in a larger ocean. what overwhelmed me was this ocean. looking up, i saw a sky, not blue, not even dark blue, but black. i do not know why, or if i'll ever see that again, but that night, the sky was a black bed sheet with tiny spots of light and a yellow, contented moon. we got through customs, received out luggage (which all but one received their luggage which is an amazing blessing and hopefully she will receive this soon) and met some very friendly peace corps directors who would take us 20 minutes by bus to the training site where we would spend the night. sitting shotgun (which is on the left side) in the bus next to our african driver i slid the window back and let my hand feel the breeze of our motion. This is when the african aroma blew in. as we passed villages and stretches of people out celebrating valentines day i caught the smell of what we passed. the smell was that of day old bread rolls and candles burnt down to the wax (no i do not understand this either). i don't know if this is accurate, it's just what the smell brought to my mind. it wasn't particularly pleasant nor was it repulsive. it just was. now though, i try to breath in that same smell and find it not there. i wonder if it was only for that day. it wasn't until just before bed that night that i caught the sound of africa...as i looked at the moon, and stars, and expanse of black, i heard the night. closer than any other of the previous sensations the sound resembled indiana. what was alive at night were the insects. they were active in sound. the night sounded similar to the crickets and cicadas that offer their call to the sinking sun back home. there were subtle differences though. a differing pitch here, a longer shrill there. these were the african bugs, calling out to their diminishing sun.

2-it has been nearly 10 days in africa and though a part of me feels that these 10 days have gone by as the african cheetah runs, another part feels they have trodden as slowly as the ever present bull, and with as much enthusiasm. the lows have been low, such as the first night staying with my host family, sitting as the dinner table with a family that i did not know eating by the light of the kerosene lantern, wondering what they were thinking, who they were, and realizing that i too was a stranger to them, living in their house. that night, i lay motionless in my twin mattress, mosquito net overhead. not only did the darkness surround me physically but it grabbed for my soul and spirit as well. then there was the time in central uganda where i looked out onto the african hillside with the african sun blazing overhead. it was beautiful. i longed for someone to share it with, but there was no one. but as the lows have most assuredly been low, so too have the highs been high. last night i sat on the wall surrounding my host family's house and their young niece (who is maybe 6 years old) sat beside me. With my hand holding hers so she wouldn't fall, she and her unlce taught me words in lugandan. sun, star, moon, flower. dusk had brought in a night fog over the hills and with it came peace in what tomorrow would be a village full of unrest, joy, sorry, hunger, and happiness.

3-some key points after the first few weeks (these are generalizations that i understand do not apply to all, if any for that matter)
-the guy that sells rollex continues to rip me off, but these egg rollups are so good that he has power over me and i cannot refuse
-after slaughtering a chicken, put it in hot water to remove the feathers more readily
-there is a simply joy in riding down ugandan dirt roads on a one speed bike with helmet on and kids yelling at the strange looking muzungu on the bike
-one of the girls who lives in the same house is named flavia. her nick name is flava flav
-i received a shot for yellow fever and typhoid fever. this was never a life goal of mine and frankly freaks me out a bit
-taking a cold bath outside under the african night sky is...somehow special. in the midst of hunger, disease, and maybe even fear, it is crisp and cooling and peaceful
-central ugandan's have a dish called matooke at least once a day and sometimes twice. i cannot really describe it except to say that it is a main dish made of a type of cooked bananas with a consistency like mashed potatoes. i asked one of the members of my homestay what his favorite food was. Expecting a rare delicacy, i was surprised when he said, matooke. how could a dish he ate every day be his favorite? i think this describes a piece of the ugandans. they know what they have and they are grateful for it. maybe content is a better word? i don't know yet.
-some people the ugandan's like in a tremendous amount: president obama, celene dion, and mr. bean.