A Day In The Life: Just Another Uganda Muzungu

I awoke this morning feeling the usual clammy heat. As a muzungu from the northwest United States I have not quite acclimated to this constant February heat and humidity. While the evening and early mornings find most Ugandans adorned in long-sleeve shirts and pants to ward of the chilling 24 degrees C (~75 F) brought on by absence of the sun, I find my life, day and night, to exist in a perpetual sauna. This feeling is compounded in the morning due to the need to keep my windows closed at night to ward off unwanted arms probing into my room looking for treasures. I jump out of bed, get tangled in the mosquito netting in my sleep induced stupor, and open the windows to see the sun beginning to illuminate the banana tree leaves outside my room. Ahhhhhhhh! I sigh as I turn the shower nozzle to cascade the cold water over my sticky body.
I exit my room to find the house relatively empty. As the holiday ended last week, both of my host parents and all of the children have returned to school. Johnson teaches at a secondary school NW of our house in Bugembe, while Sarah is off to her school to the east. The children are well spread out through the region at various schools and although it is 7:45 AM, they have all left an hour ago to walk to their places of learning. But I am not totally alone.
I sit down to take my morning tea and bread and hear the distinctive giggle and “eh, eh ehs!” of my favorite breakfast companion, three year old Barbara. She comes around the corner of the kitchen waddling, wide-legged with her hands up like she is Steve Martin performing the Egyptian dance. She has a rag wrapped around her head as she proudly yells “Ndi muzungu! Ndi muzungu!” declaring that she is a person of white skin. While it is clear she is implying this with the rag simulating a Caucasian’s hair, I tell her that I can’t look that dorky when I walk around. She understands only part of my broken Luganda-English but we share a laugh before sharing tea.
I’m on my bike and heading down the driveway by 8:15. When I reach the highway which takes me to Jinja I check for oncoming buses, bunny-hop over the median and kick it into high gear. Being the stretch of road that runs from Nairobi, through Jinja, to Kampala and Kigali, this is the busiest highway in all of Uganda. I must have my full attention on the auto traffic passing me as I ride through the mass of cyclists on the shoulder. It is not long until the young men begin to form around me pumping as fast as they can to test their Indian and Chinese technology against my American made Cannondale. I find myself in another morning race and I exchange smiles, jeers, and lead drafting with my fellow Ugandan bikers. While I possess superior technology, I am faced with real competition as I am racing against determined Boda-Boda (bicycle taxi) riders who are strong with years of riding daily. As we come into Jinja the pack disintegrates as the Boda-Boda start looking for morning fares.
I pull up to FABIO at around 8:40 and lock my bicycle to the rack of rental bikes out front. I am greeted with a warm reception from Christine and Anne, the two employees who are generally to work first. They inform me that it is a good day as the dial up internet connected on the first try! I sit down behind the counter and am careful not to defibrillate myself on the shotty power strip as I plug my laptop in.
When my Gmail finally uploads I find a fresh message from Yuba Bicycles. I have been starting a contact with Yuba who manufacture the Mudo work bicycle, an ideal upgrade from the current bicycle options here in Uganda. The message informs me of Yuba’s desire to sell more bikes in Africa and is hopeful in my prospect of finding an assembly area here in Jinja and opening a Ugandan market for the bike. The biggest hurtle is cost cutting which we are currently collaborating on to achieve. The plan is to import a few bicycles to be sold through FABIO’s bicycle credit program.
At around 10:00 FABIO’s bicycle technician, Steven, comes in. Steven is pivotal in the bicycle ambulance program run out of Katakwi in the north, as well as an invaluable bicycle repairman. We sit down to design a repair and maintenance curriculum to be taught to groups who purchase bikes through our bicycle credit program. It is my intention to use the money from my FSD seed grant to compile 2 comprehensive tool kits and travel to Butagaya on 4 different days to teach classes in bicycle maintenance and financial planning. When I last visited Butagaya many of the women indicated their lack of knowledge and tools to properly maintain the bicycles they had purchased. Upon further investigation the women agreed that they would stand to gain a great deal through repair and maintenance education. Namakose Sarah, one of the women I interviewed, especially sparked my interest by what she showed me. Sarah had bought a bicycle from FABIO last July and then promptly rented it out to a Boda-Boda driver. By the new year, she had enough money from the lease to purchase a new bicycle. She showed me the one she had purchased in January as well as a piece of notebook paper charting out all of the inputs and outputs from her bicycles, both resources and finances. I came to the realization that we must now include a financial education plan as well.
It is 1pm and time for lunch when Steven and I wrap up our teaching curriculum. As the two girls come in the door with our lunch, I pray for anything but fish again. The food is prepared at a residence by the girls’ aunt and they bring it by every day for a small fee. I open the lid to find a smiling fish head with eye still in socket. I smile at the girls and give them a thumbs-up before digging in. Fish is everyone’s favorite here in the office so I tell myself: if they love all love it, it has to be good!
I spend my afternoon creating a functioning work-plan and budget that integrates both the bicycle education program and the importation of the new Mundo bicycle. I am thankful to have Steven’s local knowledge once again to list out the prices of all the tools we will need in the tool boxes we will give to the women. I balance the budget and see that it is feasible to provide the women 4 days of education and 2 full tool kits if they can come together to provide 15% of the cost.
At 5:30 I wrap up what I am working on and hit the road bound for the FSD office. As Thailand is 4 hours ahead of Uganda, 9:30 proves to be the optimal time to reach Kelly. Along with faster, more reliable internet, FSD has the headphones with microphone attachments to make Skyping possible. I spend a half-hour catching up with my girlfriend before packing up for the evening ride to Bugembe. As I am on my way out I run into the FSD Program Director, Margaret. I decide to sit and run my work ideas by her to get valuable feedback. When we are finished, our wise leader reminds me with a shake of the finger that all interns needs to have a work-plan in by Friday to attend the retreat in Sipi Falls this coming weekend. You can bet dollars to shillings I’ll have that work-plan in.
As I ride home I find myself enjoying the best hour Uganda has to offer. Between 6:30 and 7:30 the sun is setting leaving behind a glowing warmth as the ground cools down from a day under scorching rays. I navigate my pedal-driven steed off the highway and past all the children who yell “Muzungu bye! Muzungu HOW are you?!?” in a competition to see who I will wave at first. I get home in time to shower and join Johnson for evening tea and conversation. Dinner is served at 9:00 and afterwards I bid my large family goodnight and retire to my room to recharge my batteries. Maybe if I get a good nights rest I can beat all those Boda-Boda to Jinja tomorrow…

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