Parrot Sighting

I'm so embarrased that it's been 3 months since my last post!  How did that happen?  Almost every weekend I tell myself I'm going to write a great post, and then I run out of time or simply don't feel like doing it.  Honestly I think part of it is feeling this pressure to produce something substantive, high quality, and entertaining.  Well, in order to get myself posting again, I've been telling myself that I just need to write short entries about anything whatsoever that comes to mind.  So, since I was thinking about it, and since I happened to be online (looking up the equivalent of dry to canned beans), here goes:

I saw a parrot today. 

Yep, that's it.  Actually, I saw two!  I had heard mention of the occasional parrot sighting around here (I think they're African Grey Parrots), but wasn't sure I really bought it, or at least I assumed I'd never see them.  Well, this morning, there was some sort of pounding/tapping outside my apartment.  I ignored it for a while, since those types of unidentified noises are fairly common around here.  But it continued, so I went in search of noise, partially out of curiosity and partially out of concern that my cat may be destroying something in my apartment.  I found my cat sitting on my guest room window sill, staring intently up and to the side.  I followed her gaze and saw that there was some sort of bird sitting on the gutter of the roof overhang above my window.  This is also a very normal occurrence, but for some reason I kept looking, and then I realized that I was looking at the face of a parrot leaning over the side of the gutter!  The rear end that was sticking out about a foot away obviously could not have come from the same bird, so I realized that there were two.  Eventually both stuck their faces out over the edge, providing me with a very nice (albeit leaning over, angled, obstructed by screen and bars) view of two parrot heads!  It was so neat!  I would have taken a picture if I thought there was any way that that was possible.  I watched for a little bit while my cat continued her "I can take them!" stance, then went back to getting ready for work.  The end.

Tenant Meeting

I attended my first tenants’ meeting on Saturday.  Our landlady called a meeting, requesting a representative from each of the 13 units in my compound.  I was looking forward to this chance to not only meet some more of my neighbors but also to meet my landlady for the first time.  I’m the only North American in my compound, but there is one Indian family and what I think is an Italian father and son, and I believe that several African countries are represented.  It was quite an interesting snapshot of local culture, particularly the time aspect:

The meeting was set for 9am.  Being Uganda, I knew it wouldn’t start on time, so I casually started to head out of my apartment at 9:05.  (Ha!)  Fortunately, I was smart enough to first look out my windows to see if anyone else had gathered.  There was the house manager standing by a stack of chairs.  No one else was around and the chairs hadn’t even been unstacked yet, so I figured I should wait longer.  Around 9:20, I started feeling guilty for purposefully being late, so I decided to head down in case my appearance would magically initiate the gathering.  Or I thought I could at least help to unstack the chairs.  Just as I headed down, the house manager set out the chairs in a semi-circle in the shade, so I just chatted with her for a few minutes.  It was pretty obvious that no one else would be there for a while, and she went off to talk to someone, so I decided to go back to my apartment to kill some more time.

I completed random chores around my apartment until about 9:45, by which time 2 other women had gathered.  I figured it was a good opportunity to get to know my neighbors a little better, so I headed down.  It was funny how people kept telling me “You know, Ugandans don’t know how to keep time” in an apologetic way.  But it was nice to get to know a couple of my neighbors a little better.  It turns out that the single woman across the hall from me is actually an electrical engineer, so I told her about EMI and that we’re always looking for volunteers for our design projects.  Another lady told me about how she had been cheated out of more than $100 by some respectable-looking people who had offered her a ride!  After chatting for quite a while, and having no one else show up, I finally decided to go back to my apartment to do my dishes, in the hopes that at least the landlady herself might show up by the time I was done.

The landlady finally arrived to her 9am meeting around 10:15, and by the time I got downstairs, almost everyone had arrived.  We started the meeting a little before 10:30, but it was nice and succinct and so was over by 11:15.  It was a good chance to voice our concerns about the apartment (particularly the night guards who often sleep while on duty).  I also got to recommend the plumber that EMI uses since the plumbers the landlady had been using didn’t seem to be doing a very good job.  It’s always nice to be able to refer dependable people to more work opportunities.  There were also various concerns voiced about no lightening rod on the 3-story building, too many flies and cockroaches (fortunately they don’t make it up to my 3^rd floor much), noisy neighbors, security gates that don’t close/open well, and the need for more laundry clothes lines (as well as the reminder/appeal to return any clothes that you take off the communal line and later realize are not yours).  It was pretty fun to realize that I’m part of such a community.  I haven’t gotten to know my neighbors as quickly as I had hoped, but I do feel like it’s coming “slowly by slowly,” as they say here.

The rest of my Saturday was spent having a relaxed, scenic lunch with a few friends, getting pedicures together, a mad dash through the on-coming afternoon downpour, banana bread baking, dinner, and watching a Batman DVD.

In other news, I found out Friday that my work permit had been approved!  I am so thankful.  For those who didn’t know, I applied back in January, it was denied in July, I appealed in September, and 9 months later it has finally come through!  It’ll be another 2 weeks or so until I actually get it in my passport, but at least I know that it’s been approved! 

On Tuesday, the EMI women took Paula out for her birthday, since her husband was out of the country on a project trip (note the beautiful background scenery):

Let me out!

Last Monday morning I had quite the unexpected adventure.  I got stuck in my bathroom for an hour and a half!  Thankfully Sarah, a new EMI staff member, is staying with me while she finds a place of her own.  I’m so thankful that she was home – otherwise, who knows how long I would have been stuck in there!
 

Bathroom door handle, after my escape

I never had any problems with the door handle before, but all of a sudden the mechanism that causes the “tongue” on the side of the door to pull in when you turn the door handle stopped working.  I could turn the handle just fine, but it had no effect on that tongue (I’m sure it has a better name) that holds the door closed.  At first I thought Sarah could free me by turning the handle on the outside.  When that didn’t work, I suggested the credit card trick (she tried to manually open it with a butter knife), but the door jam configuration wouldn’t allow that.  So she slid the butter knife under the door to me, and I tried to push the tongue in with the butter knife, but it wouldn’t budge.  Next Sarah tried to unscrew the outside of the door handle, but that didn’t reveal much of its inner workings.  Unfortunately the door was so low to the ground that all we could slide underneath was the butter knife.  It was a good thing I had a handy-dandy Leatherman-type device, of which we used several tools in the attempt at my freedom.

FORTUNATELY, all of the interior doors in my apartment have this large, screened opening above them which is meant to facilitate circulation throughout the apartment.  So Sarah climbed up on my handy-dandy step ladder, cut away the corner off the screen, and handed me the utility tool.  I then removed the door handle from my side of the door, revealing an equal amount of unhelpfulness, except that I now had a peep hole to the outside world.  At this point, the whole thing was getting pretty ridiculous.  Sarah’s next suggestion was to try to remove the pin from the door hinges.  Unfortunately, the pin seemed to have a cap at both the top AND the bottom.  I still haven’t figured out exactly how they work, but we figured you should be able to pry one or both of the heads off in order to free the pin.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get them to budge with either a flat-head screw driver or a paring knife.  It was at this point that I finally started calling for help.  I called Maggie, my next door neighbor and our office “granny,” to see if she knew of anyone who might know how Ugandan hinges worked.  I called my landlady, asking if she could get in touch with her carpenter to find out how the hinges worked.  I called Robert, another EMI friend, who I knew had removed a door in his house to see if HE knew how these hinges worked.  Unfortunately, no one seemed to know what I was talking about (I guess they are unusual even here), but there were several promises to pursue help.  Meanwhile, I allowed Sarah to go get ready for work while I tried my best to pry the heads off the hinge pins.  

Bathroom door, after escape

It was around this time that I started thinking about those people on TV who are kidnapped and then dig their way out with their fingernails.  And here I had a utility tool, a paring knife, and a small framing hammer – surely I could escape!  Then I started to consider whether I could crawl out the bathroom window (my apartment is on the 3rd floor) and somehow leap over to my back balcony which is only a couple feet from the window.  After entertaining this thought for a few minutes, I realized that would be impossible since there are wrought-iron security bars welded onto all my windows – duh!  We did entertain the idea of me somehow getting up to, through, and then down again from the opening over the door, but there was still the fact that the bathroom door would need to be opened at some point.  If there was no other way to get the door open, then we might as well go at it with a sledge hammer or machete or something.  (I later pondered whether I would have been able to kick my way through the door if no one else had been home….it’s only made of thin particle board, so I think I could have done it if needed.)  =)  

Door jam, carved hole, broken metal

Finally help arrived in the form of Stephen, the head of security at EMI.  Everyone’s first instinct was to try to pick the lock.  I had to assure different people several times that I had a key on the inside with me and that the door was not locked.  Stephen came up with the idea of cutting the hinges off with a saw (destroying the hinges, but saving the door), so he went back to EMI to get the saw.  Robert returned with Stephen per my request, in case he was able to offer any help, but by the time they had returned, my landlady and a carpenter of some sort had arrived.  They tried wiggling and forcing the door for a while, but after they realized that would not work, the man climbed the step ladder, punched out the screen, and then crawled through the opening over the door, feet first – quite an awkward, yet rather impressive feat considering he had nothing to step onto on the other side.  He tried the butter knife (with more vigor than I had) for a while and then the saw, but at the end of the day, the only solution was to chip away a hole in the door jam to free the “tongue” and allow the door to be forced open from the outside, twisting the thin piece of metal holding the tongue in place.  

Some of my rescuers; Note the emergency egress over the door

I was very grateful for all of my rescuers – all 5 of them.  =)  By the time I got out, I had been stuck for 1.5 hours!  Understandably, Sarah and I were allowed to come into work late that morning.  I never felt too anxious about being stuck in the bathroom since I knew I would eventually get out somehow, even if it was by breaking down the door, and because I knew that at least people knew where I was and were working on getting me out.  I began to wonder how long it would have been before someone would have come to check on me if I had been by myself.  Work starts at 8:30, so I’m sure someone would have called me by 9 to see where I was.  But since I didn’t have my phone, would they have thought my battery had died or I was busy doing some volunteer activity in the community?  How worried would they have to get before someone actually came over to my apartment to knock on my door?  Fortunately, I think they could have heard me yell if they did come to my door.  I also wondered if anyone would have heard me or thought anything of it if I had yelled for help out my bathroom window.  Since I got stuck at 7am, I’m sure I would have been there for several more hours if I had been home alone.  I feel like it was an answer to an unanticipated prayer that Sarah had NOT yet found an apartment of her own and was there to facilitate my rescue.  =)  Interestingly, the very next day she DID find a place to live, although she still hasn’t been able to move into it yet.

Now, I wonder if I should take my cell phone into the bathroom with me whenever I’m home by myself….

Building Relationships through Reading

I continue to visit to my friend's small shop most Saturdays in order to read books to the local kids.  Last year, an EMI intern did this every Saturday around the same time, so he developed quite a following of kids who would expect him.  This year, I've been doing it much more informally and sporadically, so I usually just read to my friend's kids, Jordan & Janet, and perhaps 2-4 others who gather around.  Today, I arrived around 4:30, and Jordan & Janet were taking a nap, and no other kids were hanging around the shop, so I thought I'd just be leaving right away.  But their auntie decided to wake up the kids, so I read a few books to them.  Before I knew it, I was surrounded by a small mob of 2-8-year-olds.  It's the biggest crowd of kids I've read to since the formal Saturday readings of last year ended.  It was fun, although a bit chaotic.  Jordan, who's in 2nd grade, even read them a book! 

I feel bad for the kids because most of them can't understand what I'm reading most of the time anyway, so they lose focus quickly.  But they did seem to enjoy the occasion - maybe it was just the novelty of hanging out with a "mzungu."  They definitely enjoy the more-interactive or rhythmic books.  I found a book of babies dressed up as different insects - they thought that was pretty funny.  Then I was sure to end with what has probably become their favorite: a Veggie Tales book, throughout which I attempt to do all the funny voices of the different characters.  The book ends with "Toodle-doo!" so as we departed, we all waved goodbye saying "toodle-doo" over and over.  =)  The large crowd and general enthusiasm from the kids was a good encouragement.  At first, I didn't really feel like going today, but I'm really glad I did.  It was a good reminder of how, even though it takes more energy for me (spreadsheets come a lot more naturally), I do really enjoy building relationships here.

ZANZIBAR!

 My mom visited me for 2.5 weeks in July.  To celebrate my big 3-0, we went to Zanzibar!  If you are like me, you may have heard of it, and may even have a vague impression of tropical beaches, but you have no idea where it is.  Apparently it’s an island (or group of islands, really) off the coast of Tanzania.  Like most of East Africa, it was once a British colony, but interestingly, was ruled simultaneously by Sultans from Oman.  It has a very complex mix of cultures from East Africa, the Middle East, and India.  It is now a part of Tanzania and is known for its former spice trade and slave trade and its current architecture and beautiful white sand beaches.

Evelyne and I

On the way to Zanzibar (we flew), we arranged for an 8 hour layover in Nairobi so that we could get out into the city and visit with a friend of ours.  Our 8 hour layover turned into almost 10, but we eventually made it with no mishaps to Zanzibar.  Fortunately our hotel was only about 10 minutes from the small airport, as we were pretty tired by the time we got in. 

 
My mom and I aren’t really the “stay in an exclusive resort and sit on the beach all day” type people, so we stayed in “Stone Town” or Old Zanzibar Town at a cute “boutique hotel” which had only 9 rooms.  It was like a large old 4-story house divided into big rooms and outfitted with Zanzibar-ian crafts and antiques.

Traditional lamps in our hotel

 

The first day, we explored Stone Town and shopped for gifts to bring back.  It was interesting that while there were some similarities to Uganda, Zanzibar definitely has that island-type feel.  Stone Town is kind of like triangle, bordered on 2 sides by water.  It was wonderful to walk along the harbor (the swimming beaches are not at Stone Town) and feel the strong sea breeze (for which we were very grateful, considering the heat).  The architecture of Stone Town is famous, especially the carved wooden doors.

Famous street view found in many paintings

The narrow streets zigzag around buildings, with barely enough room to fit a car.  The buildings seem to have tumbled out of a box of Legos so that each building, although touching it, doesn’t line up with the next, and narrow corridors, sometime too narrow for a human, appear unexpectedly between buildings.  In the evening, we ventured out to the local market, where the street was lined with tables selling fresh dates (I stocked up!) and fresh bread, in addition to tarps on the ground filled with fruits, vegetables, and random household items.  It was exciting to see items (like dates) that aren’t easily available/affordable in Uganda.  I even bought a small bunch of grapes (my first time in East Africa) because they were so cheap!

Each night, a night food market appears in a small park by the water.  Locals set up small tables, charcoal "grills", and lanterns and sell meat, fruit, and other local foods to a lively, international crowd.  Something called a "Zanzibar pizza" has become very popular.  It's kind of like a flat crepe with fillings, either savory or sweet - the definite favorite being Nutella and banana, topped with caramel and chocolate drizzles.

Nutmeg & Mace

On the second morning, we took a “spice tour.”  We had a walking tour around a working spice (and fruit) farm.  We learned about breadfruit (which apparently only tastes good if you cook it, but then it’s very filling) and kapok (a cotton-like substance that grows in pods on a tree) and saw how nutmeg, turmeric, vanilla beans, cardamom pods, cloves, lemongrass, peppercorns, star fruits, lychees, and various other interesting spices and plants grow.  Many of the spices on Zanzibar were actually brought there from India, Indonesia, and other places, but some are indigenous (I think cloves are). 

Peppercorns

We then were treated to a filling taste-test of various local fruits and teas.  Our guides were very friendly and entertaining, and it was a very informative and interesting time.  Did you know that mace is a red lace that surrounds the large nutmeg seed inside a fruit that you don’t eat?  And white pepper comes from regular peppercorns that are peeled before they are dried?  And turmeric is a root much like ginger?  And there’s a fruit/seed pod that is called the “lipstick plant” because it can be rubbed into a bright red paste?  It was also interesting to learn that the growing and sale/export of cloves is regulated by the government, as some of the proceeds are still required to be given to the government.  It’s almost like the government still kind of “owns” all cloves on the island.

"Lipstick Plant"

Vanilla Beans

Fresh Cloves

Mom & I feeding the tortoises

On the third day, we took a small boat ride out to Changuu or “Prison Island.”  It is a small island just off the coast of Stone Town that housed what was intended to be a prison but only ever functioned as a medical quarantine facility for boats of slaves or other travelers as they made their way into East Africa.  The historical ruins are still there, and the island is now home to a small resort and a tortoise wildlife refuge.  Unfortunately the seas were very choppy every morning, so by the end of the 30-minute boat ride, I repeating to myself “don’t throw up, don’t throw up” despite having taken a Dramamine.  It was fun to see the tortoises and feed them (trying not to get your fingers bitten off by their strong mouth), some of whom were over 150 years old! 

Mom wading on the soft, white-sand beach

The resort’s restaurant was closed for renovation, so there wasn’t really any place to hang out, since I wasn’t particularly eager to get back on the boat right away.  We were told that the island had amazing beaches and had planned to spend the day swimming and snorkeling.  Well, we found out that the snorkeling was actually a ways out from the island, so we would have to do it by jumping off the boat.  We decided that didn’t sound so fun, especially since we would also be thrown around by the choppy waves.  The beach was beautiful but only about 20 feet long.  The only place to swim was around the anchored boats, and we didn’t really feel like being the only ones swimming in the 20-foot “harbor.”  So we just spent a little while walking around the (small) beautiful white sand beach and looking and various shells, rocks, and pieces of coral that lined the water.

The amazing beaches on the east side of the island

For my birthday, our 4th day in Zanzibar, we went to the other side of the island (the northeast, which supposedly has the best beaches) to spend part of the day on the beach.  We went to a resort which allowed us in for free, provided we ate at the restaurant.  The white sand beach, and especially the light turquoise of the water, was beautiful!  We swam in the Indian Ocean for a while, although the day was a little overcast and windy, so the cool water wasn’t quite as refreshing as we expected.  =)  Then, after swimming in the ocean, we swam in the pool (well, you know, you don’t have to battle the waves or worry about stepping on coral), then we sat on lounge chairs under a tree and read for a while.  We dried off and ate lunch while overlooking the sand and the waves.

For dinner, we ate at a distinctly “Swahili cuisine” restaurant.  The entrees seemed like a mixture of East Africa and Indian food, and each one came with a variety of sides, including cooked greens, pumpkin, chapatti, beans, and others, all surrounding a pile of delicious, spiced rice.  I think the rice was my favorite part; it was so flavorful – it had whole slices of cinnamon bark!  In all, it was an wonderful, relaxing, and fascinating trip!

I'm now spending a week in Seattle (enjoying family, friends, food, and fun!), and next week I'll be in Colorado for a world-wide EMI staff conference!

"Fire, Fire, Fire; Fire Fall on Me"

I went with a friend to church today, and about half way through the service, it looked like the lights flickered and then the projector started flashing, so at first I assumed the power was going out (not too unusual around here).  Then the projector turned off, but the rest of the lights didn’t, and I noticed that some lights were still flashing from overhead.  I finally looked up, and the projector that was mounted about 30 feet over my head was raining down sparks!  For a few seconds, we all stared in amazement and waited for the sparks to stop.  Finally (this was one of those slow-motion situations where all of this probably happened in less than 10 seconds), the 20 or so of us under the raining sparks decided it was best to move so that we didn’t get a burning ember in our faces.  The sparks finally stopped, and at first my friend and I decided to sit back down just outside of the 10’-radius of danger, just in case the sparks started up again.  All this time no one in the church seemed to be doing anything other than staring at the projector.  All the poor worship leader could do was say “Don’t panic.  I think the service will still continue.”  I suppose some leader types were doing something in the background (it’s a large building that seats over 1,000, so I’m sure it takes a while to get anything done quickly), but to those of us in the crowd, it didn’t seem like anyone was doing anything about the fire hazard over our heads.  I guess the hard part was that if anyone had a plan or directions, no one was communicating it to those of us in the crowd.  I can see how these disaster situations happen so quickly and yet it can feel like an eternity before anyone is able to react.  Finally the power to the building was turned off and some of the ushers came by and told us to clear out a larger section under the projector.  Once I got further away, I looked up and realized that the projector was STILL ON FIRE!  I couldn’t believe 1,000 people were just standing there watching these healthy flames suspended in the sky for several minutes!  I think everyone was starting to worry that the flames would eventually weaken whatever was holding it up there.

At that point, my friend and I decided to leave and have coffee.  I know, I know… but we had nowhere to sit and had no idea when/if the service was going to start up again.  I left a little slowly, processing my shock at the flames that I had been calmly sitting under and wondering what was going to happen next, when all of a sudden, the projector swayed a little and dropped a few inches!  SCREAMS and PUSHING and PANIC as people ran for the doors!  I definitely thought it was coming down, but just before someone pushed me out of the door, I saw it start to move UPWARD – apparently someone had gone into the ceiling and was pulling it up from above.  A few seconds later, I looked back through the door to see half the giant sanctuary filled with white smoke.  I’m assuming our savior in the sky used a fire extinguisher. 

Maybe that was the fastest anything could be done in such a large church, but I did leave feeling a little disappointed in the church’s response time.  It seemed like someone should have been able to run to a power switch somewhere and turn the power off sooner so that the projector would stop sparking, but I suppose once the fire started, it would have continued on its own anyway.  I guess I’m used to US fire codes where a church would have an automatic sprinkler system (in which case the whole congregation would be miserably wet), or at least someone would be able to reach for a nearby fire extinguisher.  Unfortunately in this case, a normal fire extinguisher wouldn’t have reached that high (I think the sanctuary is a former movie theater) and 200 people underneath would need to be evacuated first if they wanted to avoid getting wet/dirty.  Plus, in this city built of bricks, fire safety is not usually something one has to think too much about.

Anyway, quite a few other people left church with us, although apparently they eventually went on with the service.  About an hour later, I saw two different people ask me if I was at church, one who said “Why did you leave?  Let’s talk about it.” (presumably a pastor or something)  I think my friend and I were recognizable as the only Mzungus directly under the projector who initially had to get up and move while the congregation looked on.  Fortunately, throughout the whole thing, I don’t think anyone got hurt.  I bet you didn’t think your prayers for my safety would have anything to do with THAT!  Definitely the most dramatic church service I’ve been to!

For anyone who is wondering about the blog title reference, it’s an old gospel song referring to Pentecost.  Yes, flames were over my head during the middle of a pentecostal church service....  =P

Fourth of July in Africa

I generally don’t consider myself very patriotic.  I often roll my eyes at all the patriotic t-shirts and “God bless America” bumper stickers (I’d much rather ask that God bless the World).  I cringe when people talk about how great America is (generally because I assume that they are ignorant about the rest of the world and about the negative things the US has done, and I assume that they look down on others for being inferior – in short, I [hypocritically] look down on them).  “Pooh-pooh”-ing American patriotism is in fact quite easy to do while I enjoy all of the freedoms and rights and access to power that being an American gives me.

BUT, all that to say, that I felt quite “proud to be an American” last night while watching fireworks and singing along to “Born in the USA” and “Surfing USA.”  =)  Basically, I love the fact that part of being an American involves watching large firework displays choreographed to music (yes, this part is very important) each 4th of July.  After living in Boston for 8 years, and watching the Boston Pops live in concert while surrounded by hundreds of others picnicing on the grass by the side of the Charles River, followed by the best fireworks displays I’ve ever seen (and I’m a fairly critical judge), nothing else can really compare.  But, small by comparison though it was, I found myself quite enjoying the American Independence Day festivities last night at the American Recreation Association in Kampala, Uganda.  I think it was mostly that it was something familiar from home.

Of course everyone in Uganda has to work on the 4th (well, unless you work at the US Embassy), so the celebration was held on Sunday the 3rd.  I went with my mom (who’s visiting for 2 weeks) and a friend and her son.  We sat on the grass and had hamburgers and hot dogs while watching various acts: the color guard, a speech from the US Ambassador, some American students talking and singing about American history, a Ugandan children’s choir/dance troupe, a Karate demonstration, adult Ugandan dancers, and some fairly talented gymnasts/jugglers.  It was funny to be surrounded by so many Americans (there were also many non-Americans there), since even when you find yourself in a mostly-White crowd here, many people are often European.  My mom had brought some s’mores fixings with her from the US, so we happily ate cold s’mores.  (On Saturday, we introduced our Ugandan staff to real s’mores at a 4th of July-themed potluck lunch.  They seemed to be quite entertained.)  The best part of the night, of course, was the fireworks.  I was actually quite impressed with the display.  Many of them were the small-town-looking (or expensive personal) fireworks, but some were actually the large, loud real deal, with gold sparkles and everything.  Well, as I said, I was quite impressed and had a great time.  What a nice surprise: 4th of July fireworks, even in Uganda!  Happy 4th everybody!