Travel
The sound, like distant thunder, vibrated in my ears. Constant. Dull. Roaring. The thin brown trail, a muddy groove tread into the lush greenery of the mountain side slipped underfoot, sucked at the bottom of my shoes, and cascaded rocks below. The view varied, sometimes obscured by banana trees and dried corn stalks, others, open […]
Iganga Town, Uganda September 25, 2010 They smiled at me through my open window, me splayed out in the bed watching a movie on my laptop. I’d just pulled my earplugs out because I…I guess I heard them coming. Our guard grinned down at me as I waved them all in the direction of the […]
Iganga Town, Uganda September 24, 2010 I love Zimbabwean noses, think John Amos from good times; Liberian bodies, ebony skin pulled taut and shiny over highlighted muscle. In Uganda it is the lips. Full, soft, dark. They defy comparison, only the reality that they are what lips should be. I file these things away and […]
September 19, 2010 Iganga Town, Uganda The music meandered from marvin gaye’s sexual healing with a techno beat dropped in, it to shakira’s world cup African anthem. Bubbles O’Leary, one of Kampala’s busiest night spots, was equally diverse. I spent most of the evening trying not to stare as people mingled inexplicably. I say inexplicably […]
September 15, 2010 Iganga Town, Uganda (Mum’s resort) The water steamed immediately. On the wood paneled walls, against the rocks and the metal pipe pushing out the wood burned heat. We set our vinyl covered cushions on the slatted bench and chatted quietly, sweat pooling on my upper lip, the center of his chest. Just […]
September 4, 2010 Iganga Town (en route to Jinja), Ugnada Mutatus are exercises in patience, tolerance, and humor. Every president, general, and potential saint should have to ride in one for at least a three-hour journey. The mutatu, a minivan divided into four rows of seats that could comfortably (if you ignore your knees) seat […]
Iganga Town, Uganda September 1, 2010 “I’m thinking about Columbia.” My mother’s perfect composure cracked and she whispered fiercely, “why do you always have to go so far away?” I’d just gotten back from South Africa and my mother mistook my interest in Columbia, for graduate school, with an interest in South America. She was […]
September 1, 2010 Iganga Town, Uganda The issue with long distance sick-ing is two-fold. There is the long distance part. The idea that folks who care about you are worried and can’t do anything. They can’t bring you soup or see you to make sure you aren’t worse than you say (which when far away […]
Iganga Town, Uganda August 31, 2010 There are some americanism, my inner mzungo so to speak, that I would presume are rigid and inflexible. I’d be wrong but I sometimes argue with myself that it is true. Personal space is one of those things. From my history I know that I can work through the […]
mad mzungo
September 4, 2010 Iganga Town, Uganda I was fuming. My mind working out possible solutions to a work problem. The sun glaring down on me, perspiration filming salty and shiny on my top lip. The ground, uneven and muddy, passed unnoticed beneath my feet. . “Mzungo goodbye,” somehow penetrated the roar in my head and […]
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