One week from today, I will have arrived in NYC after passing through Nairobe and Dubai. As Doreen (daughter of host family) has been saying for the past few weeks, “Alice’s days here are numberrrrrred” (frown). And I don’t feel ready to leave; in the past 8 weeks I have become quite attached to this place, the people, the hospitality, the scenic landscapes….and so much more. My time here is running out, and I already feel nostalgic about leaving even though I haven’t left yet.
Not ready to leave
Since I came to Africa alone, I expected to spend the summer in solitude. Little did I expect to not have *any* idle time, and even feel that I don’t have enough time to say bye to everyone I have connected with here. There’s my Ugandan colleagues, Ugandan University friends, my host family (especially Daphne who I’ve spent the most time with), and Daphne’s friends. There’s also expats – American, british – here for medical school electives, research, volunteering and various other things. Some I’ve definitely connected with, others frustrate me…but there is still “muzungu solidarity.” Then there’s the pocket of Chinese people in Kampala, who I met at a Chinese restaurant, then went to one of their homes a few times for dinner…and they even helped me get chopsticks, soy sauce and a Chinese frying wok for my host family – it’s not available in the stores, one has to bring it from China. The people I’ve met and spent time with here have definitely shaped my experience. In conversations with Ugandan friends and visits to their homes, I understand more of the culture…with expat friends I learn of other mediums to do international work…with my friend Tina, who just graduated from Univ. of Michigan, whom I met in Uganda thanks to mutual friends (in Michigan), I experience Ugandan culture in her home, and experience a bit of America when we go out clubbing with her brothers. Also, in America, if you smile or greet someone you don’t know, they look at you strangely. In Ugandan, I am so noticeably different and people will stare and even shout things (muzungu! China! Marry me! I love you!)...other look at me strangely…and still others seem afraid to talk to or approach me. What I’ve learned is the Ugandan thing to do (and also to break the barrier as a foreigner) is to always have a smile on your face and greet people the local way. It’s really impressed me how much people respond; and makes me happy that with the patients I encounter at our field sites, most of them don’t speak English but that simple smile and nod of acknowledgment is returned with an equally warm greeting, and allows me connect with them. Some giggle and chuckle, the children jump up and down – all have beautiful, genuine smiles.
Surprisingly, I haven’t gotten homesick. There’s enough opportunities to hang out with expats when I start to miss America, although I want to soak in everything here when I can and haven’t felt the need to do “expat” things. And everywhere I go, I hear Western music anyway – sean paul, 50 cent..and they *really* love shakira. While I do miss friends and family, people here are so hospitable and friendly that I’ve made more friends than I can keep up with.
I’ve learnt Ugandan traditional dances (some serious African buttshaking and “dance of the cow”), how to make chapattis, Luganda, Luo and Ugandan English, fancied roadside food – roasted bananas and maize are my favorites, gotten used to being in the dark most of the time…living without power and sometimes without running water…and learned how to communicate and connect with Ugandans. (note: Ugandans are not all equal, significant regional and tribal differences exists that seems to contribute to disunity among the people)…
The family is throwing me a farewell party today (we got up ridiculously early to make juice) – I don’t think any gift can repay them for all that they have done for me, they truly treat me as one of their own daughters. The other homestay would have cost me $5 a night, but here they are hosting me not for profits, but as a kind gesture on behalf of a mutual friend….which means I need to get them a really really reallllly nice gift (it would be offensive to give money as if it’s rent).
Will reflect on work and travels in next blog
