Thoughts of home and a slice of Jinja

My first week here flew by and now during my second week I'm experiencing that flux in emotions in which I'm glad to still be here but anticipating getting home. This is heightened by the fact that two of my friends and roommates have left this week. Emily left last night and the guest house seemed quiet without her. There are only three of us left now in the house. And even though Anne and I are the only ones in the big room, with two other empty bunkbeds, we still remain on the same bunk, she's on the bottom, I'm on the top bed. I guess I could have moved, but it seemed like a waste to put on new sheets on another bed when I'm leaving in four days, and there are two new girls coming tomorrow so I figured I would give them a choice in beds.

In addition to volunteers leaving, several kids have left as their adoptions have been finalized. One of my favorite kids (and probably the cutest kid ever!), Nathaniel, left with his adoptive mother. We weren't even aware that it was taking place and then one day this week he was just gone. It's been neat to see two other adoptive families hang out around Amani. The adoption process is long and all about uncertainty and waiting. Mark is here from Utah and has been here for several weeks. He travels back and forth to Kampala to the embassy with an older mother and her college-aged son from California who are adopting two children, Weiss, a toddler, and Savannah, a baby girl. Certain family members often have to return to the states or can't be here through the whole process. Mark's wife is coming in this weekend, while the older woman's husband had to leave the weekend I got in. Unfortunately, the promise of adoption creates a strange dynamic for the older children being adopted. Weiss can get a little bratty after being out with his new mom and returning to all his friends at Amani. But he will panic if his mom leaves him here, afraid that it might not be true and she is leaving for good. Similarly, there are three girls who have been adopted by some of the women who work here and they run around with a sense of entitlement, knowing they have loving families, while still being fully integrated into the life of the home with all the other orphans. I suppose they are too young to understand or behave any differently but their behavior and attitudes really rub me the wrong way some times.

One dark spot for us volunteers in our time here happened last night as two girls got mugged on their way home to their guest house. There are so many volunteers in the summer that the Amani guest house can't fit everyone. Six girls are staying at Calvary Chapel, just a 5 minute walk down the road and around the corner, and three other people are staying at the Fisheries, along with the adopting families. Most of us don't really even walk around alone during the day, and most of the girls had been smart about getting back to their guesthouses before dark or making sure that one of the male volunteers accompanied them home. But last night two girls were walking by themselves at 8 pm and reached the intersection where they were about to turn when they were approached by four men. Jordan was picked up and started kicking and screaming and Michelle was grabbed around the throat from behind, her glasses knocked off, and her backpack pulled off her. Jordan managed to escape the grasp of the men and ran ahead to Calvary to get help. We're so thankful that nothing else happened. They are ok but shaken up and Michelle lost a lot of money, her credit cards, and her camera. Jinja itself is a pretty safe town but you still have to be smart.

So on an entirely different note...it's pineapple season here in Jinja. Christy and I went to the town market last week which was such an experience--so many sounds, sights, and smells. I couldn't even take it all in because I was so concentrated on keeping a strong grip on my bag and looking at the ground trying not to trip over something. It was crowded between the make shift stalls and the paths were narrow. Most of the vendors sold food but there was also clothing and other goods for sale. We were on a mission to get a pineapple and some bananas. Christy knew a good man to buy the pineapples from so we made our way over to him and purchased two. The market is at the far end of Jinja so we each took a motorbike boda boda back. This time I didn't sit side saddle since I had on pants and I wanted to feel more secure after my terrifying bicycle boda experience. I had my groceries and pineapple in one hand and I held on to the back of the bike with the other. Even though I felt more balanced, the ride was equally as scary since we went so fast. I realized I had never been on a motorbike or motorcycle before so this was a whole new experience for me. I just kept praying that we wouldn't get hit by a car. Boda accidents are quite common. In fact, my rafting guide had a bandaged knee and elbow. When he first got in the boat I was little concerned by this (and in the end, a British guy in my boat and I nicknamed him, The Crip, since he almost hobbled about like a cripple). It turns out that he hadn't been involved in a bad rafting accident but rather had had a bad boda experience.

Jinja is also the sight of the one of the largest "fairs" in Uganda. Much like a county fair in the states, the trade show, as they call it here, has entertainment, food, and crafts. Apparently it's a really big deal. On Tuesday night a marching band walked through the streets to signify the beginning of the show and we heard that the presidents of Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya were all in attendance on the first day. Judith and Floris went to check it out yesterday and said that a larger group of people should probably go together as it was very loud and crowded and they were two of very few mzungus. In Jinja itself there are quite a few western tourists but this fair is at the edge of town in the fairgrounds. I think a group of eight of us are going to go tomorrow but we will have to see now that everyone is a little on edge after last night.

The kids are still great. I've started taking care of the girls after dinner. They go into their little room and strip off their clothes and basically run around naked, dancing, singing, and screaming until a mama comes to wash them. They have so much fun and look up at me with these big smiles--it's so funny. After they come out of the bathroom soaking wet I dry them off and help them get on their pjs. Then when everyone is settled I read them a story and give them a hug when I am done.