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!