Day 3

Friday Feb. 16:

David, another intern from Atlanta who arrived last week, and I shared stories with curious people about Jewish identity, walmart and home depot, and the aquarium. Apollo K, one of my favorite people so far, laughed and laughed about his experience in a US supermarket and the varieties and options of milk. In Uganda, you have milk. Just a plain old carton of milk. Come to the US and one could spend “an afternoon” in the milk section, choosing the right jug. The cross-cultural comparisons really are funny when you break down as such and look at it from both perspectives.

David and I made our way through the city to the American Embassy. I’ve been told that after the bombings in Kenya that security has been heightened and it certainly shows. I was made to check my camera and cell-phone (with camera), wear proper badge, and wait, wait, wait. The landscaping and architecture was absolutely fantastic – they must’ve shipped everything, down to the door knobs and window treatments here from the states. At least now they, meaning those far off states of the American governmental power know that I’m here in Uganda and will call me boss if something happens (supposedly).

Francis brought me to a combination of a petrol station/ice-creamery/wine shop, which listed “ice-cream spaghetti” on the menu and we proceeded to a serious ex-pat party in Bugolobi. This was by far the most international crowd I’ve had the opportunity to party with – hailing from all corners of the earth the main thing we shared was our foreignness to Uganda. Well, except for Francis and Janet. I met AP writers, Princeton students studying abroad, aid-works, medics doing their residencies, BBC correspondents, conflict resolution experts, etc. On one hand this made me feel very connected, but on the other, I felt quite fresh; hopefully a few weeks from now I’ll be able to tell the new muzungu to “just relax” too.