So we're at about the half way point - does this stuff always have to go so quickly? The days are slow - especially the work days, pumping out a hundred or so bricks a day really tires you out - but the weeks fly by.
Our schedule is pretty routine by now. Every day we work from about 9 - 4 at the work site. Some days we make it to town to use the internet or shop for the house, but transportation is a whole chaotic ordeal of bargaining down 'mzungu prices' and finding enough moda-bodas (motorcycle taxis - which are my new favorite thing, by the way) to get us all there. So, we usually save it for the weekends - in between our day trips.
Friday night we went to the Jewish community here in Mbale where just two days earlier Uganda's first Rabbi had been officially announced. There are about 500 practicing Jews in Mbale - a small number as a result of Idi Amin's persecuting 'reign' as President. The open-air synagogue is located on top of a hill, just above a store called "Shalom Shopping Center" where I bought a Coke before Shabbat (oh, new thing - I drink soda. It's the most refreshing thing in the world after a hot work day. That, and this natural juice stuff they call Splash and comes in Passion Fruit, Pina Colada, Mango, mmmmmmmmm. Mgy sweet tooth is OUT here - I think it's a result of a lack of fresh foods in our diet. More about food later.) The service included mostly traditional Jewish ceremonial practices (says my Jewish friends), with African music and a change of order (and adorable Ugandan boys running around with yarmulkes on their head).
Saturday we climbed Mount Wanali - a five-hour guided hike in Mbale. The mountain is stunning, and we can see it clearly from our compound and work site. People live all the way up the mountain, so the trail led right through people's backyards and at the very top, over 3,000 people grow crops and collect rainwater to survive, barely ever coming down. I saw about 20 - I don't know where the rest were hiding. Despite the fact that the mountain is one of Mbale's only tourist attractions, we saw no other hikers and the natives at the top started covering themselves a little more when we arrived. I'm assuming they usually just run around naked - it's like another world up there. Children living and playing on the edge of a mountain, women gracefully balancing baskets of goods on their head as they climb the path barefoot, as we pant and sweat.
The hike was great, and the guide stopped enough to let us breathe and talk about local traditions on the mountain, including sacrificial practices pre-circumcision ceremony. OH and how to kill a leopard - which apparently inhabit the area. In case you didn't know, here's the best way to kill a leopard:
1. Bring along your machete. That way, when the beast roars at you, you can grab his tongue and slice it off - automatically killing the leopard. (?)
2. Just in case you forgot to bring along your machete the day - ya know, just in case - there are a few things you can do. If you are weak - or a woman - lie on your back and allow the animal to tear at you until you bleed. Once it sees blood it will leave you alone and thing you are dead. If you are brave and man and strong - make a 'V' turn (because leopards apparently can only make 'U' turns), grab it's tail and spin as it spins, and scream for help until someone comes to help.
And that is how you kill a leopard. Good luck.
Saturday night we spent drinking the noun wine we've found here - yes, the convent is also a winery, and the only wine we have found in town. It's very sweet and comes in a variety of random flavors and recycled bottles. OH and we had alter wine that was given as a present to one of the members in our group. So we spent the night wondering if we were drinking the Blood of Christ or just having fun. Who knows. A bunch of our Ugandan friends joined us for it - along with a dinner of rice. lots of rice here. and then a few of us went to dance party up the hill. That was good and fun - it's nice to be so accepted by the community here - but after a while the amount of attention you get for being a mzungu gets old, and we went home.
So here we are on Sunday. There are so many stories that happen every day. I try to keep track of them in my journal, but I feel like every time I put my head down to write them down, I miss something.
Like the always-developing and ever-changing tale of Gifty. Gifty is a 3 year-old that lives next door with her mom, Joy, sister, Blessing, and aunt, Naomi (who is 9 - more like a sister). Joy's husband is a soldier and comes home 2-3 times a year. When we first got here, we didn't know if Gifty was a boy or girl because every time she saw us, she would run screaming back in the house, crying out of sheer terror at the sight of our skin color. It's been about a month now, and I'm happy to report that Gifty is our most frequented visitor. We often see her big eyes peeking through the lace curtains of our front door at breakfast. And when it's play time, she's a riot. She has so much attitude and such a little personality already. Sometimes I catch her making dinner for the family - yesterday she was cutting up eggplants - and when she saw one of us, she just said in a demanding tone, "Mzungu come." She refuses to learn our names, pops every bubble we blow at her, and when she doesn't want to do something she pretends to not understand English. I love her.
There are so many other little stories like Gifty - in the people, in the animals, in the earth. You can find pleasantries in everything here, if you just dig past the rest of it. Sometimes its hard to forget - or make others forget - that my skin is a different color, that my cultural, financial and spiritual background is completely different - but there are tiny moments that do occur when everyone forgets, and those have been my favorite so far.