When it rains, it pours
It rains. A lot. Almost every day. And always when I am out. The other day I stood pressed up against a wall under a tiny tin roof overhang trying to avoid the torretial downpour that occured as soon as I was as far away from shelter as possible. I waded ankle deep in muddy water across the busy Kampala street, trying not to be run over or to think of the many diseases I was probably catching. Drivers actually stopped their cars to let me cross. I think the sight of the skinny, dripping wet, gastly white Mzungu bouncing down the street through the flooded streets was enough to stop them in their tracks. What a sight I was.
Last week while picking up the littler kids from school, the rains came. It started as just a trickle, then harder, until we were soaking wet. Picture me running down a dirt road with 4 little Ugandan girls with their sweaters pulled up over their heads. Lifting them up and over rivers of water onto safe ground. Running onto the porches of strangers to avoid those few extra raindrops. This is my life here.
Dinner for how many?
Tonight I made dinner. For 32 children and 4 adults. That is a lot of food! Now try doing it outside, under a tin roof, over a fire. Yes, I succeeded and managed to produce a fantasticly delicious vegetable fried rice. I even was honored with a dance by Juliet (one of the girls). It was her "Balanced Diet, I'm Full" dance. Oh, and did I mention there was no power? That's right. This was all done in the dark with only the help of my head lamp which hung from a post.