Sketchy

I really like the word sketchy. That's probably because it applies to so many different situations. For example, I rode a really sketchy camel this week. Now I'm in a really sketchy internet place. Sketchy as in no personal space. For a while there, some guy was reading my emails over my shoulder as he sat next to me arm-touching-arm. Ayayay. I mean, I like to snuggle, but usually I prefer snuggling with people I know or at least have been acquainted with. ANYWAY.

This week has involved a lot of time at the fair/trade show. I went on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Basically, any bit of shopping that I wanted to do is done. What's sad is that the best stuff there was made in Kenya. Kenyans are also really good at making you want to buy things. Fortunately, I've gotten pretty good at bargaining. One lady we met was named Rose. When I told her that my middle name is Rose, she embraced me and exclaimed that I was her "nameshake". Then she tried to get me to trade my sunglasses for a scarf. Many of the shopkeepers use the tactic of calling white people their brothers and sisters in order to make them want to buy things.

So I'm all stocked up.

Oh, and Christina and I rode a camel at the trade show. But I may have mentioned this already. There again, a very sketchy, ankle-biting camel. 

The rat problem is still around and wonderfully entertaining. On Thursday night, we found one in the dining room and tried to blockade it as Dale chased it with a broom. That was a failure. On Friday night, Rachael and I heard a bloodcurdling scream emanate from the kitchen as Kathy had re-found our malicious Rodney rat. Rachael grabbed her pocketknife and a plastic dagger and I got my panga (actually, it's Daniel's. shh, don't tell him about his wonderful new weapon). When we got to the kitchen, however, it has successfully been chased outside.

Six of our team left on Friday, which has been a little sad. Lydia our housekeeper cried when Christina gave her the final goodbye (oh yeah, and Lydia's basically the most awesome housekeeper ever). Rachael and I really weren't sure what to do with ourselves after everyone had gone. We went to movie night on Friday night at a missionary family's house and met some really clueless Canadian veterinary students. I'm sorry. Let me be nicer. Some Canadian vet students that I'm really glad weren't actually representing America. One of them didn't even know what a mosque was. Anyway, we watched Hitch and it was really strange when it ended, because it was like I'd gone to America for about an hour and a half.

On Saturday we had a pleasant pool party (yeah, alliteration) for Dade, one of the missionary kids. We even had a cookie cake and it was marvelous. After that, Rachael and I spent the evening with Crystal, helping her around the house. When the power went out, we put the boys to bed and watched a movie on her fully charged laptop. It was super.

Today I went to church at Bible Baptist, one of schools I teach at. There were about ten adults and forty children. I felt very tall. It was fun, though, because I actually knew the people I was at church with. Afterwards a guy named Rambo (he clarified for me: not Rainbow, but Rambo, like the movie guy) gave me a lift to a boda station on the back of his bicycle. I definitely got some air and clutched to the rickety back seat for dear life. Speaking of bodas, Rach and I found this really great boda guy. He's married, so he doesn't make marriage proposals. He even stopped on the side of the road to introduce us to his family. I definitely have his number and will be calling him in the future.

It's really nice to be starting to integrate into the community. Kids on the street know my name because I teach them in schools. On my way to church this morning, I got calls in the distance. "RORA!!" I would turn around and wave. It would be nice, though, if I could remember their names. One kid's named Timberlake. I do remember that. And  there's a Godwin. There's also about fifty Judiths and Ediths and Evases.

I saw army ants for the first time. They're super fierce.

This place is starting to feel like home, even with power outages and rats and sketchiness and really annoying people who call you "muzungu" everywhere you go. I think it starts when people know your name (even if they cant pronounce it right to save their lives. I don't know why I have the hardest name in the world to pronounce). I mean, there are all kinds of things to love about this place, and the number one thing is the people. The people who remember your name, who are genuine, who like to say "ndyaho" when you greet them with "agandi". The kids are my favorite, even if they're extremely blunt. Hugs and handshakes come in plenty.

Yay Uganda.