Matoke and Milk in Mbarara

I arrived to the land of Matoke and Milk on Monday. The town of Mbarara is about half a million people. I am staying with the Yesu Ahiire (He is Alive) community about 8 miles outside of the city. It is a quiet country, set back from the road. The community buildings are on a hill, looking out across as some beautiful butterscotch colored mountains. They sooth my soul.

Things here are alright. It has been a challenging adjustment. Fr. Emmanuel and his house staff have been incredible. I am so well taken care of! When I am with Fr. E we have great conversations about development, community, and he explains everything that I don't understand about Africa to me.

However, he works in Mbarara all day, everyday. So I see him in the evenings, and have a word or two before he dashes in the mornings. Otherwise it is a bit challenging to get to know people. The members of the community DO speak english, but prefer to always speak the local language here. It basically sounds like really fast baby giberish. All of the songs, anything that happens at meals, conversations, mass, almost everything is in their language.

It is interesting to examine myself and my own reactions to this challenge. I have a been a bit annoyed, wishing people would make more of an effort. But then, I also realize that no, I need to make an effort... to put myself out there, and not to expect them to do it until I do my part.

I am trying. I am rather tired, or more uncomfortable mostly because of the food. I feel a bit unsteady, so I don't have my normal extroverted energy. But there is grace in all of this too. And I am trying.

So I wash dishes, pack medicine for people with AIDS, host random strangers from Germany in Father's house... and other random things. It is A LOT colder here. My body had adjusted to the heat of Sudan and central Uganda. The cold has made me use pants under my skirt in the morning and wrap really well in my African shall.

I eat Matoke. 2-3 times a day, Matoke. Matoke is mashed green bananas, and my body has decided that it doesn't appreciate it very much. But I have to eat it. A huge plate of it, twice a day. So I am trying to eat peanut butter and crackers once a day to see if that will help me a bit. They also have cows here, so we get fresh milk each morning. Boiled of course. Yum.

There is time for writing here. This has been good. I am working on "transformational development models" ... blah blah blah. You probably don't want to hear about all that. But it's a bit like doing research. It has been wonderful to get my brain working in a more academic way. So when there is nothing to do, I pray, I write or I read. That is good. We have a small chapel in the priest's house which is a wonderfully peaceful place.

I write by hand, on little note books I buy at the canteen. I don't mind writing by hand, but have been thinking more and more than a little computer would be fantastic. Depending on how life shakes out, I might buy one. Fr. Herald had a really small one, he called it a toy. But it did everything that was needed. Perhaps one day. But for now, paper... and lots of hoping that nothing happens to the notebooks!

Next week I will be working all day at the community school. I'll be helping in classes and also teaching some geography! I hope that this goes well.

Tomorrow I go into the mountains to meet with people with AIDS, and on Saturday we are going to meet some youth at a parish. Should be good! I am sure that things will improve here. There is always transitional time. I am grateful that I am not feeling lonely. :)