Can you believe it?

Fort Portal has a small, tight expat group. We met them all within the first week. It’s important to find people experiencing life in a way similar to you and to “speak fast English” with. (Uganda has certainly taught me the importance of annunciation.) That’s why it’s was great to visit the part of our study abroad group still stationed in Kampala last weekend.

Halfway between Kampala and Fort Portal, the bus pauses while approximately 87 hawkers attempt to sell chipati, gonja, water, or meat on a stick through the windows. In more rural stretches, peddlers instead sell produce and live chickens.

We got into the city on the day that taxi and boda drivers were on strike and without public transportation Kampala is a different place. I’ve never seen so many Ugandans walking. It is probably safe to say that Emily’s 21^st birthday in Uganda is not what it would have been in the US, but a dozen of us spent a fun but casual night sharing practicum stories.

Saturday turned out to be one of my favorite days of the semester. The biggest ordeal of the morning was walking down the mud road from the girls’ house. The Uganda-red muck caked on the bottom of our shoes and crept up the gentle curve of my black flats until there was danger of it overtaking the tops of my feet as well and I lost all hope of looking smart. A few of us had brunch in town just down the block from Christ the King Church where my host sister, Barbara, was getting married in the early afternoon. I was early (and of course they were late) but eventually I sat with the boys from my homestay: my brother Derrick, Ibram, and my neighbor Charles. The wedding was a long mass in Luganda for two couples, each with their own side of the church. The priest’s vernacular homily was occasionally interrupted by key Ugandan English phrases such as “can you believe it?” or “by the way…” Though the wedding party was outfitted in white dresses and suits, the colorful traditional garb that filled the pews ensured that the day felt truly Ugandan. The family was less central to the day’s events than I expected: the parents of the bride didn’t have an air of importance, Barbara’s sister Jackie acted as wedding coordinator rather than bridesmaid, and her brother Derrick was sitting halfway to the back of the church. The service was beautiful and it was wonderful to see everyone again after a break and with such a cause for celebration. After saying hello and goodbye to those I knew, I walked through Kampala and caught up with Katie before returning to Emily’s for a quiet night of cooking and watching DVDs.

Barbara, her husband Daniel, and the wedding party on the steps of the church. Can you spot the apple?

On Sunday Kimberly and I got in the same taxi as Yvonne and Eve, the sisters we’d met the previous weekend, and I knew F/P was a small town. For the last 90 minutes of the 4hr trip, we were 5 across in the front row of the taxi. Did I ever think 19 adults and 2 small children could go that far in one van? Nope, but we did. The walk home felt great. Now the countdown has begun: less than a month left.