Katy Goes to Uganda

Written on a bus going from Busia (Kenya-Uganda border) to Jinja, Uganda...

It's such a rush to start a trip, especially when you're doing it alone and on public transportation. I was sitting in my first matatu of the day in Kakamega, waiting for it to fill up with enough people to leave, when the thought struck me: I can go anywhere right now. I don't have to go to Jinja, I can get off and get on any other matatu at the stage, and not even ask where it's going. I have $100 in shillings in my money belt and a backpack with everything I need. I am not due to be anywhere for six days. I am completely self-contained and completely free. I can go wherever the spirit moves me.

Of course I stayed put, because I really did want to go to Jinja, but the feeling was elating.

I also felt good because I felt like I vaguely knew what I was doing: that the ride Mumias should cost about 100 shillings, that "I'm getting off here" in Swahili is "Nashuka hapa", that to get a tout selling stuff through the minibus window to go away, you stare at him blankly, and of course, that I should scootch to the edge of my seat to allow a little room for the butt of the woman sitting in the aisle "non-seat".

I didn't think twice when said woman got up to make room for someone to pass, and had her entire posterior pressed up against my cheek. No sweat!! We are all sisters!!

I have become culturally competent!!! (At least enough to get by!)

In addition to being satisfied with my new freedom of movement and basic ability to get around, I feel liberated not being an FSD intern/ACCES volunteer any longer. From the day I got here in January to my last day at work on Friday, I've been trying to fit in as much as is possible: to dress, talk and behave like everyone else in Kakamega. To be culturally aware and respectful, conservative in my dress and to act more like a "local" than a loud American. I've been trying to be a good representative of FSD, ACCES and the U.S.!

Now that I'm on the road, I'm only represent myself and am not expected to fit in: I really am a mzungu (foreigner/white person). It's nice not to have to think constantly about how my appearance and actions are being perceived. Right now, I'm wearing a t-shirt and cargo capris vs. my usual long skirt and shirt. Happiness!

I'm also pleased for having found a matatu WITH an airbag and seatbelt earlier today (although I know you're not supposed to sit in the front seat because most accidents are head-on) and for buying myself a nice little 20 shilling "wedding" ring from a guy selling cheap jewelry and biscuits (cookies) at the Mumais matatu stage. It's nice to have evidence to back up my "Sorry, Bwana*, I'm married" line.

The fact that I'm now on vacation doesn't hurt my mood either. Yesterday, when packing up my room, both impressed by and frustrated with how much crap I'd accumulated in 5 months, I almost didn't want to travel. I just wanted to jump on a plane to Nairobi and high-tail it back home. I was worried I'd be lonely, that my rough itinerary would prove to be a little too rough, and lastly, that I would go nuts with all the time I'm planning to spend on buses, ferries, matatus, piki pikis (motorbike taxis), boda bodas (bicycle taxis) and planes. But I'm actually very happy at the moment: I've got two seats to myself and more leg room than you'll find on business class. I'm writing in my journal and watching miles and miles of lush African countryside go by. It's the usual mix of banana trees, fields of corn and sugar cane, huts with thatch or tin roofs, cows being herded by little boys in ragged t-shirts and women carrying firewood and plastic shopping bags on their heads: all familiar and yet somehow different. I think the trip is going to work out alright.

*Bwana = Mister.