greetings from jinja

holy frijoles! i actually made it! here i am in jinja, uganda at 5:30 am sitting on the uncomfortable brown couch in the front room listening to george sweep leaves and the rooster send his greetings to the neighborhood. uganda remains: the smell of humidity and burning and dust, damp mornings, the fastest sunrises. the compound and the house are oddly unchanged. betty and i stood chatting at the facing sinks: she was outside hand washing clothes, i washed dishes inside. i have to keep reminding myself that one year has passed.

yesterday andrea and i drove from the entebbe backpackers (all of my belongings and i arrived unscathed, i was so happy i pulled out my harmonica and started tooting away until the shout from the room next door reminded me that it was well past midnight) to kampala (the driver, abdullah, and i had a lovely chat about ugandan and american concepts family and the benefits and detriments of one's responsibility to their relations) and on to jinja (i was greeted by all of betty's wild jumping and dancing and ululating) ululating is an undulating high pitched call that many african women make when they are happy. it can best be described as an opera singer impersonating a rooster or perhaps a rooster impersonating an opera singer.

well, the sun is nearly up. although i don't think anyone inside this house is close. i think i'll go for a walk before the sun realizes its full potential.