Good times, bad times, you know I had my share...

"Why are all the exciting things so uncomfortable, like fighting and exploring and skiing in Canada?"


I read that in This Side of Paradise recently and quite enjoyed it. I hope you did too.



The last week has been an interesting ol' time. There are times when I feel that what I'm doing right now is the best thing ever and I couldn't be happier. Let me give you an example:

I have become the de facto social studies/geography teacher for the school. Basically when teachers aren't around (which is quite frequently) I have to step up at ten minutes notice and teach a class. This is fun. I feel challenged. Teaching something I have no idea about to a class of a hundred students is more enjoyable than you might think.

Another example of the good times would be spending a day in the nearby city of Jinja and returning home to a rapturous reception from the kids and older folk alike. "Welcome back" is the uproarious cry as the little ones wrap themselves around my legs. These are the happy moments. The egoist inside me feels wanted.



There are other times when I'm not especially pleased with how this country is treating me. Observe:

"Africa time" is a whole new concept to me and I'm finding hard to adjust. I'm not talking about time-zones, just the pace of life. If you request something, make a general inquiry or even suggest a better method of doing something to anybody in Africa you can expect the response to take at least three times longer than back home. It can get quite frustrating.
I saw one teacher doing a science class about circuits using only two batteries and one bulb; sitting at the front saying "Look, look at the light. On. Off. On. Off", not a great lesson. I decide to take it upon myself to go out and buy some batteries and all the rest so that the kids could take part and create a circuit for themselves. I gave the teacher in question all the necessary stuff and waited with baited breath to observe what joyous things he might do. He did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have asked him since what has become of the things I bought. He tells me that he'll use them next term.

My second complaint is less serious: Ugandan primary school boys are fast. Really fast. I took part in athletics training for an upcoming competition between schools and I was asked to run against some of the (admittedly bigger) students in the 400metres. To say that I got schooled would be an understatement. The first 200metres saw me sprinting as hard as I physically could just to hold fourth place; the second 200metres saw me falling over (some damned bumpy ground) and stumbling home in last place. Bruised ego.

People tried to tell me that the conditions were against me - the heat, the poor surface, my beer-gut - but I still felt that I had been "dissed" by some 14 year olds.



Check the new pics at the top (if you wish) and have a wonderful day!

From Uganda, which is 3hours and a day or so behind, good evening.