My
freshman year of high school, I failed my geometry class. It was the first
class in my life that I had failed, and my parents were far from happy. As a
punishment of sorts, my dad tasked me with constructing a perimeter wall along
the driveway in our front yard. It was no more than a hundred feet long, about
three feet high, with probably about 400 pre made bricks in total. I don’t
remember ever working on it for more than a few hours a day, I took as many
breaks as I saw fit, and my dad helped me much more than he probably should
have. Looking back, it wasn't a very difficult job, yet it took me all summer
and well into fall to finish, and I hated every second of it. If I only knew
what was to come, I may have appreciated that menial labor as preparation for
much bigger things in my future.
Just
about a decade later, I’ve broken ground on a much larger perimeter wall. This
one will be 362 meters long, well over ten times the previous one. It will be
six foot tall, with a 2ft x 2ft trench filled with concrete as the foundation,
all to be hand dug with hoes and pick axes.
Every brick will be hand pressed on site, then after sitting for a month
to let the concrete set, will be stacked and mortared into place. The total
number of bricks needed is estimated to be just under 40,000, each one weighing
between 10 and 15 pounds. It’s a
daunting task, and yet I’m very excited about it.
Needless
to say, I won’t be doing this by myself. There is a crew of fifteen guys eager
and willing to work 8 hours a day in the hot sun to get it done. I have willed
myself to work alongside them at least a few days a week, but thankfully I have
other responsibilities that require some of my time. Now, for example, I’m
waiting for a meeting with the probation officer of Jinja, originally scheduled
at 10:00, but after arriving there, I was told to come back at 2:00, and I
imagine we won’t meet till around 3:00. This type of thing used to bother me
greatly, but I’ve learned that this is just how things go here sometimes, and
getting upset doesn’t do anything for me. The meeting is for a holiday here
called the Day of the African Child, essentially celebrating kids all around
Africa. Shocker, eh? I have ended up on a delegation that’s supposedly going around
to all the organizations in the district that work with children to remind them
about the day, an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. I’ll be doing a little a**
kissing of an important government officer, while also networking with other
organizations that have similar interests, something I hoped to do before I
came. Hopefully it actually happens.
As for
the last couple weeks, not a whole lot has happened to report on. Ally and I
went to a wedding last Saturday, a nine hour ordeal, the highlight being giving
the bride and groom the goat that I had insisted to Ally would be the best
possible gift. I was constantly trying to stifle my laughter as people were
giving seemingly endless speeches at the reception, which were regularly being
interrupted by the bleating of a very confused goat. Also, I was able to get a
copy of Microsoft office. I was originally planning on having a volunteer bring
it, but then I remembered that finding an illegally downloaded copy of just
about anything here isn’t very tough. So I hit the black market, no pun
intended, (Okay, pun intended) and I was able to get a copy of Office Pro Plus
2010, a $500 plus program in America, for 4,000 Ugandan shillings, or
approximately $1.75. I don’t even feel bad about it.
School is finally back in session,
which means neither Ally nor I should spend our days in restless boredom
anymore, so I’m excited about that. We went to a local church in the village
the Sunday before last, which was long, hot, and full of joy. Rarely have I
seen people so excited about God, which was great. This past Sunday we went to
a church closer to Jinja, pastored by a white Baptist preacher and attended by
primarily Mzungus. The contrasts from the week before were staggering, with a
little more of the traditional comforts of an American church but a lot less
excitement than the Ugandan one. I enjoyed both, but there are a few more I’d
like to try.
I’ll end
this rambling with a “lost in translation” moment that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Last Friday, the construction crew and I had just finished leveling a piece of
land and were sitting in the shade enjoying some porridge. Yeko, the project
leader and my go-to guy, commented that we should take turns buying “escorts”
for the crew. “Maybe I buy everyone escorts today, Bryan buys tomorrow, and so
on.” Having known only my American definition of escorts, I had to make sure I understood
correctly. I mean, these are primarily a bunch of young, single men who work
hard all day, but surely he must not mean what I thought he meant. So after
asking him what he meant by escorts, he simply responded, ”You know,
accompaniment.” He had basically confirmed my suspicions, but I had to be sure.
“You mean… prostitutes?” The entire crew erupted with laughter, while Yeko
looked both amused and appalled that I would assume that. “No no no! Something
to escort the porridge in the morning, like bread or biscuits.” I think some of
the crew may be disappointed when I never end up buying them hookers, but at least
now I know what to call my toast in the morning.
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