Uncle Bryaneee!

So, no thanks to David and Gwen, I’m finally an uncle. I have literally hundreds of new nieces and nephews, not only at Musana, but scattered all throughout Iganga as well. The kids at Musana all call me Uncle Bryan, and many of them are dayschoolers, which means they only come to Musana for class and go home at night. I guess they go home and tell their friends my name or something, because basically everywhere I go in this town, some little kid will yell my name and run up on me. For some reason though, no one can just say Bryan, and they add a drawn out “eeee” sound at the end. I like to think it’s as close to celebrity as I’ll ever be, so I’m lovin it. There is one group of kids in particular who without fail has brightened my day. They all hang out by a house on the way to Musana, and will literally start chanting my name when they see me in the distance. When I’ve gotten pretty close, they will charge me, some hugging, some tackling, some just jumping cause everyone else is doing it. They are almost always led by a little girl named Angela, who has definitely stolen my heart. She’s tiny, like very tiny, and will run up yelling “Impetacu, impetacu,” which means pick me up. She loves to be carried just for the 30 or so feet that I walk by her house, and giggles, smiles, and repeats everything I say the whole time I’m with her. She’s my precious little parrot, and I’m trying to think of ways to smuggle her home.

In the last three weeks, I’ve spent much of my time at the farm. Musana has 15 acres deep in the village outside of Iganga. It is probably one of the most peaceful and beautiful places I’ve ever been, because modern technology hasn’t even touched it. The only roads to get there are tiny dirt paths that only a skilled motorcycle driver can navigate, and so there is literally no noise except birds and the thumping of hoes in the ground. Most of the time I’m out there I spend weeding the corn or beans, which is actually pretty intense work. I’m hunched over all day, because the hoe I use is only like three feet long, so my back is pretty much constantly in pain. My shoulders are sore all the time, too, because I’m basically just digging thousands of little holes for 5 hours straight. I really do love ding it though, because the guys I work with are fun to be around, and if I’m not in the itchy corn, I can take my shirt off and get jacked and tan. Most the farm workers speak little to no English, so communication is slim to none, but it’s entertaining to try. They teach me funny Lusoga phrases, and I try to teach English the best I can. I haven’t been out there this whole last week, though, because I somehow got malaria, so I’ve been worthless to the world up until a couple days ago.

I’m feeling much better now, and I feel like I got pretty lucky as far as malaria goes. I’ve heard some horror stories, and when my blood test came back positive, I feared the worst. I really just had a terrible sore throat, a lot of pressure in my ears which caused some gnarly headaches, and some awful muscle soreness and weakness. I got medicine for all of it though, and I feel good now, minus being a little tired. The thing that sucked the most about it was that this was the week all the kids got back from holiday. I got to meet all the little ones, but I felt too crappy to play for most the week. Luckily in the past couple of days I’ve felt better, and so I’ve had some fun with them. There are two little sisters named Bescha and Bella that I absolutely adore, and a little boy Brian who brings honor to the namesake. He’s very funny, but pretty shy, and I try and spend a lot of time with him.

I also went to Kampala last week with Pipih to go shopping while Morris picked up Andrea from the airport, and it was a great little journey. We went to the market there, which is an absolute zoo. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and I don’t think describing it could really do it justice, but I’ll try. It’s basically this country’s version of a shopping mall, except ghetto times a thousand. It’s a GIANT maze of little shops that are probably like five feet by five feet. You literally have like a two foot wide path to walk on, and you are absolutely surrounded by people and stuff. It’s somewhat organized into sections, like one second you’ll be surrounded by nothing but shoes, then t-shirts, then pants, then bedding, etc. But the stuff is just everywhere. Its on shelves, on the ground, hanging from the ceiling, just everywhere. The whole place was muddy and smelled god awful, and I was constantly be grabbed by people and pulled to their stuff to look at. You can find pretty much anything, though, and be it original or knock off, it’s pretty dang cheap. They had thousands of Chuck Taylor’s and Jordan’s, and you could get them for like 15 bucks. The people selling don’t really know what they have, and I managed to get a sweet Hundred’s hat, which is a brand, for five dollars. I almost bought the same exact hat this spring break in Vegas for $46, but thought better of it. Sure glad I made that decision. I also bought a shirt I used to have as a little kid, and a sweet pair of wingtip shoes. They are stylin, and Pipih swears that Ugandans will be very jealous.

I realize this is basically an essay, so I’ll cut it off. I’ll try to post sooner next time so I don’t have to write so much, but finding time and inspiration to sit down and write can be a bit difficult sometimes. I love you all, and have a wonderful day!

Mzungu Bonga!

So I have officially been in Iganga for a week now, so I figure it's probably about time I post a blog. Let me just start off by saying that this place is more amazing than I dreamed, and I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with Uganda and its culture. For those of you who don't know, I am currently volunteering at a pretty good sized orphanage/school called Musana Children's Home in Iganga, Uganda. It's a dream come true for me, and I feel I have finally arrived at where I am supposed to be at this point in my life.
I arrived at Entebbe Airport last Monday, and was scared half to death when I thought no one was there to pick me up. I was walking around trying to push two baggage carts completely loaded with bags, trying to find Morris, whom I was told was picking me up. He is one of the directoirs of Musana, and I had a pretty good idea on what he looked like. I didn't see him anywhere, though, and was flocked by cab drivers whom I could barely understand. People here are very pushy here towards white people, or mzungus, which means ghost. They assume you have money, so everyone fights for your business. Luckily I was approached by what I thought was some random kid, but when he asked if I was Bryan I was forever thankful that i wasn't stuck. Turns out this was Pipih, Morris's brother and a volunteer coordinator for Musana. He is 23 (I think. supposedly he lies a lot about his age), and quite possibly one of the coolest people I have ever met. He helped me take my bags to his friends car, and we left for Kampala.
Basically as soon as we got to Kampala, our driver got "pulled over," which is actually just whistled at by some girl cop standing in the middle of the street. From what i could tell, there are absolutely no traffic laws in this country, but I guess I was wrong. She told Pipih to get out of the passenger seat and into the back with me, and then she hopped in the front. I was already confused at this point, but then she just chilled up there for at least another half hour while we drove around and did errands. The driver and her were whispering to each other in Lusoga, and he was trying to hand her some bills for her to leave. She was offended and took us to the "police station," aka a parking lot full of dudes with AKs. We were only there for like 10 minutes, though, cause Pipih knows some people who he called and got us off skotch free.
After we left Kampala, we drove the approximate 3 hours to Iganga, and I was welcoming by dozens of singing children when we got to Musana. The kids are AMAZING! They all crowded around me when I came in and grabbed me by hands and led me around the campus. They sat me down in a classroom and a group of girls came and danced and sang songs for me. I'll try upload some video of it, cause it was awesome.
So that was day one, and I'm definitely rambling, so I'll try and summarize the next six days. Important things you should know:
A. No pet monkey :( Guess some townspeople killed it cause it stole food. Turns out Ugandans hate all animals besides goats, cows, and chickens, which all three are pretty much everywhere. Like literally, they just roam all around town, eating the plethora of trash off the street. And they abuse every other kind of cool animal, like cats, rabbits and dogs. It's some BS, but there's nothing I can do.
B. Everything here is ridiculously cheap. like dirt cheap. Which is great, but also sad for the people that live here. like average salary is less then $2 a day, or 4000 Ugandan shillings, which means a full plate of food is like a dollar, or a buck fifty if you want a giant beer with it.
C. The food here is suprisingly pretty awesome. I've tried some weird stuff, but i'm impressed by most of it. I had some goat testicle with lunch the other day, and not too shabby really.
D. I rented bodas, which are the motrocycle taxis, with another volunteer Ryan and one of the older Musana kids, Emma. This guys gave us each their bikes for 3 dollars for 3 hours, and we road all around town causing ruckus. I'm an awful boda driver, but it was a blast.
E. I live in a sweet house, minus the mice, bugs, and lizards. Its a pretty good size, and everything is done for me. We have a house keeper, Raheema, who is fantastic. She's my age, but she does all our sleaning, cooking, laundry, everything. Its amazing and I try to thank her everyday. We have a pretty major mouse problem though, although i think they are funny. They are tiny, and chase each other all over the house. they aren't really afraid of people, so you see them all the time. The lizards I don't mind, cause they are cool and eat some of the many bugs. But sometimes when they are in my bed, i get a little creeped out.
F. The kids in the street are my favorite part of this country thus far. They absolutely love white people, cause they rarely see them, and some expect you to give them stuff. I don't, cause there are too many of them, but most just really are very friendly. As soonas they see you, they will run from all directions yelling "Mzungu! Mzungu Bonga!" and then put up there fists for you to bop. This is the bonga part, and they get so happy. Even the smallest little toddlers will waddle over to you and bop you. It makes my dsay evryday. Some will hug you or climb up you, and i almost always have 3 or 4 on each hand as i walk to Musana. It's a pretty amazing feeling to see that kind of love form complete strangers, and I can't stop smiling when it happens.

Alright I'm far past the "too long" point, so I'm gonna end it here. I'll try to write more regularly, but I doubt it will happen. If you want to kno anything, email or facebook me. I love you all, and thanks for reading it this far.