Giving in

Let's start at the very beginning..

I really resisted starting a blog, mostly because I was sure that by the end of my month here I would get too lazy to post. However, so much has happened that I just feel like I should write it down for myself and for those that want to know how things are going. Worse case scenario, I've just provided you with some really great bathroom material.

Anyway, my arrival in Kampala was so smooth. My flights were very easy. I slept, watched two movies (everyone needs to watch This Is Where I Leave You) and KLM British Airways stuffed more pasta, bread and free alcohol into me than I thought possible. We stopped in Rwanda (fun fact, Rwanda does not allow plastic bags into the country...*insert blank face emoji*) on our way to Entebbe. In Entebbe I flew through the Visa line and was greeted by the University Driver Erea (the first of many names whose spelling I will botch) who held a sign that said "Makram Cathreen". Close enough to Mali Kathleen I guess, so we drove. I finally arrived to Ham Suites at approximately 1 am sweaty and exhausted. I was escorted to my beautiful room with an almost functioning shower and a toilet that flushes. Score.

Ham Suites Ham

Monday morning I met my Ugandan medical student ambassador Derrik. We toured Makerere University campus which is the the Harvard, St. Olaf, Carleton and community college of Uganda all rolled into one. Derrik was an O.G. for me on day one. He helped me buy a SIM card for my 1997 burner phone, told me the history and political atmosphere of Uganda, and also introduced me to posho, a tasteless starch that is the staple of the Ugandan diet and I vow to never eat again. :p He also took me to dinner at another local restaurant called Club-5 which has a 4 page menu, but really only has the ingredients for 4 dishes (I've since learned this is typical in Uganda). Lastly, Derrik taught me the important art of crossing the street. Not to scare you mom, but this literally is a life or death event every time you cross. There are no cross walks, sidewalks, stop signs or street lights. It is you, the bodas (crazy motorcycle drivers that also function as taxi drivers), the millions of cars and God. Thankfully, I'm still here to blog about it. 


I woke up at about 1 AM that night to a RAGING storm. As in shaking the floors, rattling the windows raining cats and dogs kind of storm. The next day after talking to people I realized I had arrived in Uganda during the rainy season...classic Mali...I had no idea. Either way this actually works out well because this "mazungo" (Ugandan for white person) does not like raging heat and the rain brings cooler weather.

Uganda love this view