Acclimating

Before I came, many people told me "oh don't worry, Uganda is much nicer than Sierra Leone or Liberia."

All I have to say at this point, is if Uganda is so much nicer than Benji's mission, what was his mission like?! I know it will get easier every day, but adjusting is hard.

Yesterday we went to town, which is a general term for the area where everything is busiest and most things are sold. It's not like New York. New York has sidewalks and cross walks and organized commerce. Uganda has no sidewalks. There are people selling things everywhere, and you walk wherever you can fit your foot. Uganda has no crosswalks. You cross the road as fast as you can, weaving in between busses and motorcycles and other people.

Town was overwhelming. We attract A LOT of attention. When we got home Benji said "I made mean faces at all the African men who we're staring at you." Then he demonstrated his face and puffed out his chest and flexed his arms and I laughed.

Little street children followed us, shouting "Muzungu!" And begging for money. I could maybe help one of them, or five of them, but I could never help them all. It's a heart wrenching and hopeless feeling. There was also a man, thin and emaciated, with no legs, sitting on a piece of cardboard begging. What can I do?

We rode the taxis which are really halfway between a bus and a van. They are supposed to hold 14 people but I counted 17. There are women with babies everywhere, some in arms and some strapped to their backs. They are having a "cold" spell in Uganda right now, and the babies are all bundled and have hats on. We take cold showers to cool off, because we are on the Equator after all.

I like being at home, in the office with the women who come to sew. Often they speak Luganda and Benji and I just exist around them, but they all speak English if we talk to them first. I mentioned that I want to get an African dress and three of them brought out a skirt and dressed me up and gave me advice about where I could go to get fabric. I love Susan especially. She is a member of the church and sings hymns under her breath while she's working. She talks about her son and daughter, and how she wants to go to the Temple someday. The closest temple to Uganda is in South Africa. We told her that in Utah, we can reach ten different temples within an hour.

We sleep with only a fitted sheet on top of us. We tuck our feet into the edges and the other elastic curves around our shoulders. I accidentally stole one of the blankets from the airplane and sometimes I use that and let Benji have the sheet to himself. It is too hot to use anything else, but luckily we have a fan.

I trust that eventually, I will love this place. I'm thankful for prayer. I'm thankful for opportunities and circumstances that urge me to pray so specifically.