Day 2 - TIA....need I say more?

TIA – This is Africa. It’s a phrase that I feel like I probably overuse. Every time that something happens that is not acceptable in our comfortable Western Culture, I explain it away with these three letters. Shame on me. While sometimes it’s a light-hearted way to express frustration in the lack of communication, people skipping meetings, or not being able to find phone or internet that works well (if at all), there are times when I don’t say it out loud, but it’s clearly in my mind. It is good to have my mom here because she reminds me of the feelings I felt the first time I was here and everything was a shock. When we woke up in the morning at the hotel she said she smelled smoke. “TIA”, I thought, that’s just what it smells like. It’s burning garbage, fire for cooking, exhaust from trucks, stuff burning that probably releases harmful fumes for people to breathe all day long as they work. Clearly not a good thing and we wouldn’t accept it at home, but since it’s Africa, we say it’s okay.
We waited for our driver for 2 hours this morning, not even knowing if he’d show up or if he’d be able to fit us in his van. My mom had a momentary freak out saying we should have known we could use a phone and we should have had this stuff arranged earlier. I tried to explain it away with “TIA” – this is how it works. It really is how we have to function here. With everything day to day changing and not always having a clear cut plan and knowing you have to wait around sometimes for anything to happen. Luckily for us, the driver showed up and we were able to get a ride. The front desk attempted to call Angella’s number for us, but promptly replied that the number was not working. My mom gave me a look and asked why I didn’t check the number or do something else to contact her earlier. I replied that we would try again once we get our phone cards working, assuming that the woman at the front desk didn’t really dial the number and we should try on our own.
The ride in to town was interesting as usual, but not surprising. Buildings are painted in bright colors to advertise for phone companies, brands of paint, a hair salon, or any number of products that Ugandans use on a daily basis. Cows, chickens, and goats line the front yards. Children in tattered cloths run around chasing each other or the animals. Men sit outside their shops with stoic faces just waiting for somebody to stop in to need their services. Women in traditional clothing wash clothes and sweep the ground with brooms made of bundled branches. To my mom, these sites are impactful, all so different and what she explains as “heartbreaking” to know that these people are so poor and that life is hard. In my head, I think “TIA”, these are the sites that I have come to know so well and it feels normal. But it shouldn’t be normal! I should be affected by all of it more! How can we accept that people here are often surviving on a few dollars a day to feed an entire family? How can we accept that children die not because the doctors can’t diagnose them, but because they can’t afford ten dollars worth of medication? How can we accept that people live in homes with no water and 10 people in one or two little rooms? Clearly the answer is “TIA”. This is Africa. I don’t like it, but I still try to explain it away as acceptable because it is Africa. I don’t want it to be that way, but I don’t know how to change it. What do I have to offer that can make a difference in this culture, a difference for the children, a difference for the hard-working women? Sometimes I wonder what on earth I think I’m doing here? I don’t really have a plan. I’ve got some medicine cabinets. My mom had some teaching materials. We’ve got some money to work with as donations. But what difference will it make? The problems are so great and there are SO MANY people. Even the wealthy ones would be below the poverty line in the States. I just have to remember that no matter what we do, we can make a difference in just one person. It might not feel like a lot because of the great numbers, but the difference will be for that one person and it matters to them what we do!

Once we got to Kampala, made a quick stop at Garden City (a shopping center that has everything a Mzungu could want or need!) for water, a quick lunch, and to get our phones working. As it turns out, Angella’s number worked just fine from my phone. I had to say I told you so, but I had a feeling I was right about the woman at the front desk! The driver dropped us off at the HVO house where we waited for Angella and her friend Susan to come in a car to get us. It was so wonderful to see Angella! She is such an amazing person with a heart of gold! Doctors don’t make a whole lot of money here, but they manage to do a lot with what they’ve got. She often uses her own money to pay for medicine that her patients can’t afford or to help out families that are struggling. It’s incredible to see her and many others like her give of their time and money even when they have so little left over for themselves.
Angella’s friend Susan offered to have my mom and I stay at her house for the entire month. Susan is so great! She has really tried hard to make us feel at home. She even gave up her bed for us to use. She’s going to sleep next door with her sister, Gloria. She’s going to be out of town for a lot of the month because Gloria is getting married. This weekend is the traditional “giving away” ceremony in their home village and on the 24th of July there will be a more modern ceremony in the city. We sat around for most of the afternoon discussing Uganda. I think my mom really appreciated being able to talk with somebody here about how people live and the problems that people face. A lot of it is stuff I’ve already known but I forget is important to know in order to understand the culture. My mom is probably a little bit on circuit-overload with all of the new things she’s seen and heard in the past 24 hours!
We went out to dinner at an Indian restaurant that we went to last year. It was my mom’s first experience with Indian food and she really liked it. Too bad the nearest Indian restaurant at home is in Duluth! We met Angella’s friend Gloria who is a doctor at an HIV clinic at Mulago. (yes it’s a different Gloria. I’m pretty sure that Angella makes it a point to only befriend people with the names Gloria, Susan, or Irene) We brought a computer for Gloria and she was very grateful to get finally get it. We had a great night of talking and laughing. It turns out that Angella is amused by most of the silly questions and stories about traveling that my mom has!
We got settled in tonight and unpacked most of the stuff from our suitcases. We’ve got plenty of things, now we just need to determine where we are going to bring all of them! Tomorrow the work will begin! We will find an internet connection to hopefully contact one of the orphanages, (and post this and yesterday’s! post!) get a pass to see the Woolies, and start to make a plan for when we are going to go to each of the orphanages to assess their needs. It feels like a lot to do and I have no idea where to start. Thank God for Angella, who is always taking care of us! It’s still a very strange concept that I am in charge and Ross is not around to get stuff moving! Hopefully we can come up with a good idea of how we are going to make things work so that by the time Pamela and Nick join us, we will have a great trip planned for them!