And as I walked out into the sea of black faces in Entebbe airport the memories all came flooding back to me. Moments later, whizzing through the African night with the window down I will filled with an intense sense of belonging. Surrounded by the loud, vibrant and chaotic street-life of Uganda I felt at that moment I was exactly where I was meant to be in the world. In a strange way I felt like I was home.
Don't get me wrong there is a harrowing grief and hard underbelly to Africa where the majority of people struggle to survive in a land pillaged of natural resources and prolific in life-threatening disease but under this shadow of the proximity of death there emerges a personal freedom within the Ugandan people. When you are threatened by so much hardship maybe you have little choice but to appreciate every precious moment you are given. This is something we have lost here in the progressive Western world being bound to rules and obligations of commercialism, advertising, fashion or social acceptability. Africa puts your life in sharp focus and perspective. It trivialises our supposed troubles. If I were a doctor I would recommend a high dosage of Africa to all first world patients. Stat.
In welcome and celebration of the raucous Ugandan nights I fell asleep that first evening to the soothing orchestral cacophony of a thousand, potentially rabid, dogs. Perhaps the previous 17 hours of wakefulness aided the melody although the wolfhounds in the string section seemed particularly accomplished musicians.
The next day as I set out to experience the work of A-Z Children's Charity first hand I was again reminded of an openness, as children randomly grabbed my hand or climbed up my leg. A few hours later in stark contrast to this image I was present at a volunteer HIV testing day in the clinic. The clients are provided with pre and post test counselling and get their results within minutes of their blood test. As I was being talked through the clinical and efficient testing process someone pressed pause on the world as I stared at one random positive blue dot. How could something so seemingly innocuous, like watching the negative of film develop, have such detrimental consequences to somebody's life? What's even more disturbing is the nonchalance with which the patients seemed to face the news. Its unfathomable. We tried and failed to psychoanalyse the reaction. Perhaps with death so close at hand, HIV looming in your future is just another way it could happen. In any case I could postulate for hours (or pages) and I think it will still remain incomprehensible to me. With 7% positive results that day, one of which was a child, (more or less the national average) it was a poignant encounter, and my closest with the disease illustrating quite plainly the huge impact it has on Ugandan life. Although difficult to understand at least this step in getting tested gives people the option to take some sort of proactive response to their illness.
The rest of my journey was spent on my sustainable architects soapbox waxing lyrical about the potential magnificence of soil stabilised blocks and generally interrogating our unsuspecting Ugandan architects in an effort to create the best Paediatric clinic possible. Then retiring home to dance around the lethal, randomly exploding, electric shower and passing out in my fairy princess mosquito net enclave. I have, since returning, acquired a mosquito net for my bed here in Ireland so I can maintain the regal illusion.
I managed one wild night out on the town where I was allowed, nay, encouraged to take pictures of skimpily clad ladies, gyrating their buttocks for my general pleasure. Strangely I had not, as per past travelling track records, wandered into the local seedy brothel (I know it surprised me too) or if it was, it paraded under the guise of African Cultural Appreciation. Needless to say when they invited audience participation in the “Booty Celebration Dance” I was the first on stage taking out 3 drummers, a goat and the eye of a small child in the rush to get there.
A week however was not long enough to be invited to or through “All The Kings Roundabouts”! A roundabout fitted with two gates that are opened ONLY for the King who after a brief 10 minute wait is allowed to drive through it. All us other mere mortals are forced to drive around it without having to stop at all. It has got to be in the top ten “Best Worst Inventions Ever”. When I get those keys though I know I will have made it in Uganda. Given the dilapidated state of the gates I imagine some people have attempted the drive-through feat sans-keys. Perhaps pumped up on some hallucinogenic local palm wine they are convinced of their ability to drive through metal. I'll have 3 bottles please.
Suffice to say I loved my time in Uganda but let's be honest despite all the aforementioned the real reason I developed such an affinity with the country is that my bulbous ass looked decidedly normal sized over there!
Luv Aunty Travelling Lisa
PS The Plug: Seen as I am in my new job I am obliged to get you to check out A-Z Children's Charity projects and all the events we run on www.azkids.ie
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