Welcome Home

I arranged to stay with a couple named Herb and Ellen, who owned a Bed and Breakfast in Kampala. I was referred to them by a couple of people who had stayed here previously and just could not say enough wonderful things about them. When we finally arrived at Herb and Ellen’s on Saturday morning, I was instantly greeted by Papa Herb and Mama Ellen, as I’ve been instructed to call them. They wasted no time doing what Mamas and Papas do—they fed me a huge breakfast then sent me upstairs to have a shower and a nap. (Ellen woke me up from said nap about 2 hours later…she has a whole game plan for helping me to deal with the jet-lag. Thank goodness someone does because my game plan, or lack thereof, would find me sleeping all day and staying up all night).

Papa Herb and Mama Ellen’s Place!

View from the balcony to the right

View from the balcony to the left

For everyone worried about my safety, this is what is surrounding the house.  NOBODY is getting in. 

After lunch, Herb and Ellen took me into town to exchange my money and to set up my phone and internet. Here’s a little rundown of the currency in Uganda—
Ugandan currency is the shilling. 
1 US Dollar= about 2,500 shillings. 
shortcut to figuring out how much something costs in US dollars: divide the first number of the cost in shillings by 2(for example, 30,000 sillings = appox. $15 US Dollars) this is not an exact science, but it works for me. 
Like many things, I was aware of the exchange rate before arriving in Uganda and I happily exchanged $200 of my US Dollars for 500,000 shillings. However, when the cashier at the internet place said "that will be 130,000 shillings", I almost lost my lunch.
*sidenote: that was the cost for 4 months of internet and it comes out to around $50 US dollars…not a bad deal.

Shillings


We then went to a store to get my cell phone turned on, where I also learned the meaning of my name here in Uganda. I introduced myself the the sales associate and he told me, “In Uganda, Bliss means the ultimate, or maximum of something”. He then went on to give me examples like, the maximum of happiness you would say, ‘happiness bliss’ or the maximum of love you would say ‘love bliss’ or the maximum of pain would be ‘pain bliss’….(I chose to ignore his last example and focus on the first two, more positive ones). 

My new saaweeeet cellular device. yes, it has the game ’Snake’…be jealous.

We left the store and went down to a little cafe, where we had delicious African coffee--which is basically just coffee with hot milk mixed in it. By this time, I was going on my it had been 72 hours since my trip first commenced, and I had slept for about 6 of those. I was running on PURE adrenaline and that coffee wasn’t going to work to keep me awake if I had paid it to. We got home around 6 and I ate my first home-cooked meal in Africa…I couldn’t tell you what it was, but I can tell you it was wonderful. I wish that I had a story about how I lay in bed that first night, unable to sleep because of my excitement over finally being in Africa, but that just wasn’t the case. I crashed, and I crashed HARD. I slept for 12 hours and it was upon waking up in the morning that I had my overly excited “holy sh**, I’m in Africa!!!” moment. That sentiment was very quickly followed by a slightly less enthusiastic “holy sh**….I’m in Africa” moment. I’m not going to lie and say that my emotions weren’t engaged in an epic battle for the first couple of days, because they were. However, I’m writing this on my 5th day in Uganda, and I can safely say that the battle is finally over….and excitement has won :)

all of my love and happiness,
Bliss xxxx

Boda Boda? Don’t mind if I don’t.

Boda Boda: a motorbike taxi that is a very common mode of transportation in Uganda. 

see also: death on two wheels. 

   these two ladies look happy enough. I wonder if they’re still alive?

I had heard of a Boda Boda before moving to Uganda, but I did not quite understand the complexity of them until now.

First, I’ll share with you what my new friend, Jess, had to say about them. We first discussed these machines at the gate waiting to board our FIRST flight. Jess told me that she used Boda Boda all the time to get around, but that she was very selective regarding her driver. She had come to trust a few and used them most often. Her next statement to me went something like this…
“If you’re going to use them, get a helmet. I should probably get one, too. I’ve had several minor accidents while on a Boda Boda, but nothing too serious. One of my friends got thrown from one and broke his jaw”. 
Broken jaw? Been there, done that…and I have no desire to ever relive the experience.

At this point, Lydia, the Ugandan woman I told you about earlier, chimed in. Her advice was this…
“Don’t use them. It is too risky. Your parents are too far away to receive bad news such as that”.
Simple, but effective.

For the time being, I plan to heed Lydia’s advice. I think Lydia’s words also left a mark on Jess, so hopefully she will avoid taking a Boda Boda, just as I plan to. Or, at least if she does choose to use them, she’ll invest in a helmet.


Second, I’ll share with you what I learned about the origin of the name Boda Boda from Abdul. On the way to Kampala from the airport, as countless Boda Bodas sped by us, weaving recklessly in and out of traffic, Abdul decided he would give me a little history lesson. I’m not usually a sucker for history, like the best friend, Tracey. However, I will say that this is definitely my favorite moment since I’ve been here. I’m sure it will be surpassed in the days, weeks and months to come. But for now, it sits at the very top. Here is Abdul's explanation of why they are called Boda Boda…

“do you know why they name them Boda Boda? It is because they first use them to get people across the Kenyan-Ugandan border, when it was very dangerous and illegal. You see, they used them to get people from boda (border) to boda (border)”. 

now, this probably sounds like the most trivial piece of information ever, and that’s probably because it is exactly that…trivia. But, for some reason, I was completely and utterly fascinated by this information. Seriously, you would have thought that he had just shared with me the secret of life...or the secret of how to meet One Direction (which, let’s face it, are pretty much the same thing in my eyes).

I’m not sure why this moment reigns supreme, as I have seen and heard so many incredible things in such a short period of time. Nevertheless, it does and I’m glad I got to share it with you :)

all of my love and happiness,
Bliss xxxx

Uganda 101

If my first 3 days in Uganda were a college course, it would be Introduction to Uganda. Much like many of my ‘101’ classes, Uganda 101 includes an endless influx of information and my incessant need to retain ALL of this information. This can be fairly anxiety provoking, unless you happen to be living your dream in Africa, then it’s just awe-inspiring. I’ve been trying to decide how best to go about sharing as much of this information as possible with you, without sending you into information overload. This is what I’ve come up with….trying to figure out how to do that IS provoking some anxiety, so I’m just gonna throw it all at ya. I’ll try to break up all of my stories into separate blog posts, so you aren’t left reading for hours on end. Good luck dealing with the anxiety that comes along with trying to decipher my incoherent thoughts. Remember, you asked for this and I never promised it would be easy J. Let’s start where we left off, shall we? With my Visa and luggage in tow, I set out to meet Abdul, the driver who was sent to collect me from the airport. I came face-to-face with a 6’2 Ugandan man holding a sign that said ‘Bliss’. He greeted me with a kiss on each cheek and a huge smile and I decided, right there and then, that we were going to be best friends. Like any good class, Uganda 101 had to start with an orientation. And, on the hour drive from Entebbe to Kampala, Abdul provided me exactly that. I won’t trouble you with all of my inane ramblings, but I will share with you just a few of Abdul’s pieces of advice, observations and warnings about life in Uganda---

1.) Don’t hold your phone or camera close to a rolled down window when driving at a low speed, or someone will reach in and take it.

2.) The Ugandan military and police are EVERYWHERE and they carry huge guns. However, Abdul alleviated any worry I had regarding this when he told me, “No worries, they do not like to shoot people much…only sometimes”.

3.) In Uganda, the scare tactic ‘smoking kills’ is to be taken literally. He informed me that one of the rare times these men with guns WILL shoot someone is if they are smoking in a public place where there is a no smoking sign. Abdul is not a fan of smokers and seemed to approve of this method of dealing with these careless citizens. In his words, “It say on package smoking may be dangerous to your health…they should have listen”. 

I was completely enchanted by Abdul--so much so that I almost didn’t notice that there were people just walking alongside the Entebbe-Kampala highway that we were driving down.  Of course, I was aware that this was the most common mode of transportation in Uganda, but actualy witnessing it…that’s a horse of a different color (I imagine my reaction when I witness my first ‘smoker shooting’ will be similar to this—I will have been aware that it happens, but not prepared).  My fellow Texans, can you imagine people just casually strolling down I-35? And not just a few people…hundreds. When I asked why so many children were walking with their backpacks on this Saturday morning, he informed me that some children have to attend school on Saturday, as well as the rest of the week. I think it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, that many of these children were without proper footwear, if they had any footwear at all. As if Saturday school isn’t bad enough when you have a ride and a pair of shoes to wear. Suffice it to say, this was my first dose of hard reality and it was like being punched in the stomach. Abdul assured me that the children were used to it and it did not bother them, so I shouldn’t let it bother me too much. I’ll let you know how that works out….

In conclusion, Abdul is my new bestie and he will now be a permanent fixture in my life and in my subsequent blogs.

(sidenote: Abdul works for the couple who I am staying with in Kampala. This means that, although he really doesn’t have a choice about being my new best friend, at least I won’t have to stalk him in order to make sure it happens) 

all of my love and happiness,
Bliss xxxx

Murphy’s Law

We all know the old adage "whatever can go wrong, will go wrong” and I’m sure we have all had times when we feel that it applies directly to our life, and our life alone. I have had many, many times such as this, yet everything (and I mean everything) that I have ever wanted in my life has somehow worked out, despite the number of road blocks I might have met along the way. Knowing that this is the way things usually happen for me, I was in no way under the impression that my move to Africa would go any differently. That’s why, after a 12-hour layover at Heathrow, I really wasn’t all that shocked when a nice British gentleman came over the loudspeaker to announce that my flight to Uganda would be delayed overnight. I looked at the 2 women I had met while waiting in the gate area, and quickly offered them my apologies, as I was certain that my presence was the sole reason for this turn of events. Jess, who is from Pennsylvania and teaches at an International School in Kampala, assured me that it wasn’t my fault and that things like this happened to her all the time. Lydia, a Ugandan woman who was on holiday in Ft. Worth, of all places, assured me that things like this did NOT happen to her all the time and I got the impression that she was not opposed to placing the blame directly on my shoulders—which were already quite sore from carrying my 30 pound backpack (at this point I made a mental note to avoid Lydia on the streets of Kampala…however after spending the next 24 hours with her, I made a revision to that mental note to instead stalk her on the streets of Kampala, as she turned out to be lovely). Along with Jess and Lydia, I also spent the next day getting to know Stacy, who is 19 and came to Uganda for 3 months to work for an organization called Schools Building Schools. Upon delaying our flight, along with our hopes and dreams, British Airways (who, after their effortless handling of the situation, I am now in a monogamous relationship with) put us up in a 5-Star hotel in the airport and provided us with free meals.  So, 24 hours, 3 new friends and a plethora of mini-bar snacks later, we were back at Gate C. However, this time, the nice British gentleman decided to welcome us on board, choosing to cultivate our dreams rather than crush them. I spent the next 8 hours sat next to a precious 19 year old British chap, whose accent would have been enough, but then he kept using phrases like “use the loo” and “cheeky” (if you are familiar with my affinity for British men, then you understand that this is both the best and worst thing that could have happened to me). oh yeah, we are now Facebook friends and there is a chance that he is currently reading this so, Hi Chris! anywho, 8 hours, very little sleep and a lot of Teen Wolf and 30 Rock later, I stepped off of the airplane and onto African soil. I was more tired than I have ever been, but the realization that I was FINALLY in the exact place I had wanted to be for so long was not lost on me. I tried to keep it together while waiting in line for my Visa—had I expressed all of the emotions I was suppressing at the time, I am certain they would have sent me directly back to London, where they would have wasted no time putting me on a plane to America. and, after my seemingly endless journey to get there, that was a chance I was not willing to take. So, I remained calm, retrieved my Visa and luggage and headed out into the great (and I do mean great) unknown. I wholeheartedly believe in Murphy’s Law and can think of very few instances in my life to which it doesn’t apply. Having said that, I do think I would have to amend the adage a bit and have it go a little something like this--“whatever can go wrong, will go wrong…until it all goes right”.

all of my love and happiness,
Bliss xxxx