HIV, Shutterspeed, and WWE

I wake up to rain on the tin roof. I will never be upset about waking up because of rain. It makes me feel so happy and comfortable. Rain on a tin roof is beautiful. I go back to sleep to celebrate.

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Erin calls me. She is asking if someone can please take her spot at the hospital, there has been a situation and she needs to go to Kampala. Right away I know that somehow she came in contact with Sarah’s blood. Later, I found out I was right. She was helping to take out Sarah’s IV and blood spurted up into her eye.

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I call Wasswa over to the nurses. They are going to look at his elbow. The last time I saw him it looked terrible. It was the size of two half dollars. It was white and …gross. He comes timidly to the yard, despite Simba being there. All the kids are terrified of that dog.

I think he knows that we are going to help. Fran gets her plastic gloves and some hydrogen peroxide. Marilyn holds his hand as Fran pours the Peroxide over his wound and it foams.

“Bulunge, Wasswa! Bulunge..bulunge..” Bulunge means good in Luganda, and it’s the only way I know how to tell him we are trying to help him.

He is very brave and doesn’t even cry. Fran puts on a special bandage that is designed to not come off for five days. It uses the natural fluids your body produces to heal the sore. We have Gracie tell his mom not to take it off.

I go and get two tootsie rolls and give out my first “sweetie.” He deserves it. I want him to be less hesitant about coming next time we need to look at it. Later his mom sees me and says, “Thank you so much for your treatment.”

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I’m going to Mukono to give Frank a photography lesson. Meghan got me a place to stay the night so I don’t have to go home and come right back again for church. I catch a matatu at the bottom of the hill. Each matatu has decaled words on the windshield, and I keep forgetting that the one that says, “Ever Smart” is dangerous.

Usually a ride to Kisoga takes about half and hour. We got there in eight minutes. There were three taxis all in a row on the road and they were fighting for passengers. My taxi decided that its best bet would be to reach the next town before they did and just drove straight through Ntenjeru.

I’ve had this feeling a couple times here, and at home. Something is very dangerous, but at the same time it’s thrilling. So half of me is angry at how fast this driver is going and the other half of me is giddy with the adventure.

I was thinking if I wanted to get out and see Joe in Kisoga, and this ride made up my mind. I get out and walk to where Joe told me he lived. I ask for him but neither Joe nor his wife are home.

I get a call from Kenny. He has been in Kampala and is calling to see if I’m in Mukono or Kisoga. I tell him I’m in Kisoga and he tells me to meet him at Mandela. I meet him there a few minutes later. He has things for me.

Last night he called and asked if I wanted him to pick me up anything in Kampala and I was confused and said, “yeah, it’s no problem, sure.”

He pulls out a pair of sandals from his bag and I laugh out loud. They have a strap to go over the foot and one to go over the big toe. They are decorated with hair/fur.. “Do you like them?”

I realize they are not a joke, and say that I love them. Haha. African style is crazy. Then he takes of his bracelet and gives it to me and pulls out a matching necklace. They are tiny beads in African colors. I tell him he can have the necklace and I’ll keep the bracelet. Then he gets out two apples and a chocolate bar.

Kenny is building a house in Kampala for his eventual family. I find out that he doesn’t have a pregnant girlfriend like he said when I first met him. He thinks it’s hilarious that I don’t understand why he told me that. Ha. He buys me a soda and we sit with his roommate and talk about a reggae singer in South Africa who was shot last night.

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I walk to the Kisoga trading center to get a taxi and there are two. Obviously I want the one that is leaving first. I walked towards the parked one, because the one that was moving looked like it was leaving. Then the conductor called me over, so I started to walk past the first taxi and that conductor grabbed my arm.

I ripped his hands off of me and told him not to touch me. People in the trading center burst out laughing and muzungu this muzungu that. The conductor of the other taxi gave me a seat of honor in the front.

Then we sit for fifteen minutes after the first taxi drives off towards Mukono. Whatever.

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In Mukono, I’m walking out of the taxi park and I’m just a little late for my 4pm appointment with Frank. So I consider a boda boda. I ask the first driver how much to the Mormon church and he tells me 500. I’ll walk. Then the boda next to him calls me over as if he won’t charge me that much. “How much?” I ask.

“2000.” I can’t even help it, I laugh right in his face so loud and then walk away as I’m still laughing and then with my second breath let out a big, “Wooooooo!” – Ugandan style. The driver laughs sheepishly as everyone else around him laughs. I walk towards church.

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The young men have an activity today at church. They are playing football (soccer). Frank’s pretty good. They go inside for lunch. They’re having typical Uganda food, along with this “egg roll” that I’ve never had before. It is a boiled egg that has been packed in the middle of mashed potatoes and then wrapped in .. something else. I’ve forgotten what it is. Looks delicious, but there are no more left.

I teach Frank and another kid from church, Martin. (not the same Martin that wanted dance lessons in Kololo..) I teach them about shutter speed and aperture and how the two work together to give a photo the proper exposure.

It’s helpful to have my digital SLR there, so I can show them right away the difference between f/stops.

We are in a classroom at church and I am writing with chalk. After about 20 – 30 minutes Frank says he is going to go pray. “Pray? Where? Now, like as a closing prayer?”

“No outside!”

Then I realize he means he’s going to go play outside. We end the lesson and the two go outside to play more football. I take photos of them outside.

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I walk with Paul from church into town. I’m going to go use the internet. I ask him about how church members here deal with the cultural view of women in Buganda, and the doctrine of the church that husbands and wives are equal partners. He says that the church definitely has a different culture about woman and I correct him. Women’s place in our church is not cultural but doctrinal. He likes the church’s view of women and says that the rising generation in Uganda aren’t as strict as their grandparents were.

Traditionally woman in the Buganda tribe are never allowed to sit in chairs. They always have to sit on the floor. Every time they see a man they have to kneel as a greeting and sign of respect. Women are not allowed to eat chicken. etc. etc..

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I’m in the internet café for three hours. I’m not finished, but decide its time to leave just as Meghan shows up with the others to pick me up. We go grocery shopping. I buy a basin and some bleach to wash my own dishes and to bathe. I get my boxes of milk and juice and a thing of Pringles.

I’m going to get home and be perfectly OK with drinking powdered milk. In the mornings I have these boxes of milk, which are warm, and I still think they are delicious. The only flavor that I’ll never get again is bubblegum. I had to try it at least once. Other than that, chocolate, strawberry, vanilla and especially banana are delicious.

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I’m staying with Mike and Dan. Mike is the first or second counselor in the branch presidency at church. I think he’s about my age. I can’t see much when we get to their house because it’s dark, but it smells so good. They have flowers blooming in their yard and perfectly shaped trees and hedges in their garden.

Mike and Dan’s room has two beds and a refrigerator (only used for storage). A picture of President Hinckley hangs above Mike’s bed. Dan is sleeping in his brother’s room next door. Their family’s house is two building facing each other. Each room’s door leads outside to the little courtyard.

The brothers are next door watching WWE wrestling on a black and white TV. I go inside and watch the snowy picture and laugh out loud. They ask my if it’s real or fake. I laugh some more. I tell them people will still argue about it, but it’s definitely fake. Dan is very satisfied with this answer.

I stay up talking to Mike about his mission. He served in Johannesburg, South Africa. I ask when was the last time he’s been to the Temple. He tells me it has been two years. I can’t believe it and tell him I’m having a hard time being away for three months. He says we are so lucky in the States because we have temples everywhere. I tell him maybe someday there’ll be one in Uganda. I hope so.