So I’ve been lazy lately in writing this blog, so most of this will just be little anecdotes I have recorded here and there.
Today was a good day; many things were accomplished. Chief of which was, at my suggestion, discipline, which was a chronic issue in the school last term has been reformed in to a centralized system. Most anyone reading this I’m sure went to a school at one time or another that had a disciplinarian that students were sent to. I have made the system now in place mirror that, with the exception that to reflect the seriousness of the position, I had it given the title “Commissar”. Some would object of the use of a military officer title being used in a school, others too would object to such a communist noun, and yet others would object to me holding that position. To all those detractors, I say to you what my father said to me so many times in the face of moral outrage; Deal with it.
Class idea: Advanced Pit Latrine technique; certificates will be awarded.
I watched my first Hidden Passions dream sequence; I feel like I popped my soap opera cherry all over again.
One of the stereotypes about Africa I now realize that I came here with was that naïve one where all the animals from discovery channel are right outside your door for your own purview. Well, they’re not. Like home, here is filled bugs, birds, mice, snakes, lizards, frogs, fish and all are as furtive and predictable as the American ones. An exception is the domesticated animals: Instead of dogs and cats and house plants, Uganda has cows, chickens, and goats. The other exception is that, bar the domesticated ones, all those things are trying to eat or kill you. Jumanji wasn’t too far off the mark. Which brings me to the other day. There, on the water tower outside my door, was a 3.5ft long monitor lizard, staring me down. I have never witnessed such defiance in an animal, but then remembered he could probably kill/eat me since this is Africa. I moved on quickly.
The guard for my compound thinks digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
(In response to why a volunteer wasn’t angry at her boyfriend for something stupid he did) His hair smells like tres seme. How can you be mad at him?
(Conversation between another volunteer and her boyfriend, both will remain nameless) I realize there will be times when you see me pee. I know we’ll really be close when one day I see you pee and come over to grab your penis to see what it feels like with the liquid running through it.
(Another volunteers anecdote) Back when me and my sister were little, we were in a bathtub together and she told me it would be funny if she punched me in the face. Then she did. We never really got along well.
I recently went to a colleague’s son’s birthday party. He turned 2.
Something I am disabused to accept as normal, thanks to my father, is that a party for a child <6 is an acceptable endeavor. I was conditioned to believe such an enterprise was futile at best and naïve at worst. This particular African ceremony, to my complete surprise, bore most of the semblance to all the other ceremonies (wedding, birth, death, etc.) I have been to. Provided was: Food, drinks (continuously), company, music, offers of marriage, snacks, old people dancing, and children attempting to catch chickens, normal African life. It was very similar to the infant birthday parties of my nephews and nieces, except that ours didn’t have a 7 part ceremony which required an MC.
(In response to why he doesn’t have a life skills skit prepared) I just got back from somewhere I shouldn’t have been, and doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.