"You know they call it the New York of East Africa"

My body is still in shock from the last 48 hours, I think. I can't say I would ever suggest taking 18 hours of bus rides to spend a day in Kampala during the rainy season. To say the trip was brutal would be generous. I wrote a long email to my family describing most of the trip, and it was, of course, lost on the hostel computer. Incredibly aggravating - I'll try to recount here but my head is about to explode.

Everyone says Kigali is the best city in Africa - beautiful and clean clean clean. I can tell it's well maintained, but you don't actually realize how clean it is until you've actually traveled elsewhere in Africa. Now that I can add Uganda to the list, I really understand what everyone means. I went to the store this afternoon (in Kigali) and the streets seemed to be paved of gold after being in Kampala yesterday.

It never stopped raining on Friday when I was there, so that definitely adds to the dirtiness. There are very, very few sidewalks, mostly just little rivers of mud, and huge potholes you can either willingly step in or unintentionally fall into; either way you're going in. After the first hour of walking around, I completely gave up, and by the time I went back to the hostel in the afternoon, my feet and ankles were caked in mud. My black jeans are now black and bright dirt red spotted. My hair was matted and my overall feeling was clammy and gross.

Unfortunately, I didn't take a single photo the entire trip - it was never conducive. There are so many amazing shots I wanted to take, but it was pouring rain, there were 30 million people around, my camera was inaccessible ... etc. I googled some photos and none really seemed to be accuratively descriptive - I guess you have to be there and in the midst of the people, the buildings, the mud, the cars, the buses, the motos, the livestock, the stalls, the incessant stores, the noise, the chaos.

The people were quite a bit kinder than in Rwanda, though, and incredibly honest. They never tried to cheat us in price on the motos (they call them boda bodas in Uganda) whereas in Rwanda the guys quote you a price that is usually inflated about 300%. A guy ran after us and handed us 2000 shillings ($1) he said he saw us drop. We were in shock (especially since we don't think the money was ours anyway). I only heard muzungu twice and it was no way near as condescending as it sounds here.

The boda bodas, however, were pure insanity. Apparently there are 5 deaths a day related to motos in Kampala. All of the rides I took were quite scary, but there was one where I was sure that we were going to get in an accident - I eventually just started laughing hysterically out of sheer fear and adrenaline. It was pouring rain during rush hour, and the traffic was so tight. Nonetheless, the driver felt the need to drive at breakneck speed, going in and out of cars that were so close together I'd have to turn sideways to get through. We slipped and slid, he would dash in front of oncoming traffic and I'd feel the graze of the bus that just barely didn't kill me. When we finally got to where we were going, I practically fell off the moto and had to regain my mental state for a second; my legs were shaking.

There were some fun parts - mainly to do with shopping. They even had a mall and a cineplex. We saw Valentine's Day (even a first run movie!) and it was so nice to sit in a theatre and relax, especially after the day it had been. When it was over I said to Megan, "You know, when we walk out of this theatre, we're still going to be in Africa." Definitely didn't feel like it.

It was shocking to see how well stocked the stores were - they had so many products, things you would never dream of finding in Kigali. We got giant bottles of olive oil and balsamic for about $4 each - in Kigali they are about $20. We bought box cake and frosting, vodka ($7 compared to $40 here), microwave popcorn, granola, maple syrup, and probably some other things.

I was able to buy some clothes very cheaply too - some shirts, sweater, shorts, and dresses, all for about $40. The highlight of my trip was at one of the stores where I was bartering for a tshirt and a sweater - I wanted them for 10k and 20k (Ugandan shillings - $5 and $10) and he would not go down from 40k total. We're doing the usual routine - arguing, yelling, waving hands up and down, pacing, threatening to go to another store - and he will just not take my offer. Finally, a genius idea strikes and I say, "Ok! I'll give you 15 for this one and 15 for this one." "Ok sister!!" he accepts joyfully. I stood there in shock for a second, my mouth agape, expecting him to realize what he just agreed to. Amazingly enough, he proceeded to put the clothes in a bag, hand me his card, and ask me to come back to the shop. I definitely will next time I am in Kampala - afterall, I didn't get the 10 and 20 price that I wanted, but I did get 15 and 15.

Running in the land of a thousand hills a.k.a. STUPID

So I've decided to run a half marathon. Dano coerced me into doing it with him, and sent me this link for a 'training program.'

It seems simple enough ... except for the fact that in 7 weeks I am supposed to be running 10 miles! The run is on 23 May and starts at Amahoro stadium, making two loops around the city. As the website says "The running course is a bit hilly. You will not break your personal record!" Wow, reassuring, thank you!

On Wednesday I ran two miles. On Friday, two more miles, this time in 24 minutes. On Saturday, three 12 minute miles. I actually don't feel too bad. I am committed to doing this - I've always wanted to do a marathon so a half marathon seems like the logical first step. I really hope I don't burn out in the first three weeks. I'm going for the gold. In it to win it.

P.S. On Thursday Megan and I are getting on a 7am 'bus' to Kampala to do some shopping. It's a 9 hour drive through the mountains. We've booked the nicest room at the Backpackers Hotel ($25) and both have meetings Friday morning - mine with the Kampala Ballet and hers with Compassion. Mostly I think we just want to see something new and also need to do visa runs. Expect an exciting post this weekend.

Pictures are worth so much more

Yes, I am completely behind in posting. That being said, I'll have you know that that 15 January - 15 February was the busiest I have ever been in my entire life. I am surprised I am still alive, to be honest.

We did move into the new studio/house, which, while breaking my bank, has been the exactly right decision, and the ballet school has been able to flourish in this new space. I quickly went from 60 students to 80 shortly after opening for classes here. The studio is so much larger and cooler. Outside there is a swing set, a gazebo, and a large yard, so it has been great for parents, sibling, cousins, nannies, and everyone else who waits while the girls are in class.

My friend Megan moved in with me, and it's been so great having a friend around. We spend quite a lot of time together, doing ridiculous things like buying a kiddie pool and sitting in it when it gets high in the 90s (which it has been doing a lot lately).

We've started choreographing for the Spring Recital - it's going quite well, though I'm having a hard time remembering which group is doing which piece - working on six different ones concurrently! The oldest group (11-16 years old) is doing so well, they love coming to class and you can see them all working very hard to progress.

We had a party on Friday night - everyone brought something for dinner, then we watched Center Stage (classic ballet teen movie) with one of the family's projectors. It was quite a bit of fun.

Last Sunday Megan and I decided to take a day trip and drive two and a half hours east to Akagera, a national park of Rwanda. We borrowed Jen and Dano's car, the beautiful '93 Toyota Carina that has had a good amount of trouble, but keeps on keeping on. I threw it into fifth gear and enjoyed cruising through the beautiful, beautiful country that is Rwanda.

It was an incredibly hot day, and the drive was quite long, but we arrived expectantly. Fred was waiting for us.


We said our hellos and then he walked away, in search of greener pastures.

We then ran into close friends Joe, Tabitha, and Murray. They joined up with about 5 other friends shortly thereafter, and let me tell you, a herd of zebras is quite a beautiful thing - especially when you're in dry, dry, flat, grasslands; a stark contrast to the lush hills of Kigali. It was hard to believe we were still in Rwanda.

Later, we watched Jimbo, Clarissa, and Talia hang out with their fellow hippo friends, staying in a group so as not to taunt the ever present crocodiles (who refused to be photographed).

Of course, it wouldn't be a real day off in Rwanda if something didn't go wrong, so the Toyota took this opportunity to break down in the middle of the elephant section of the park (even though we didn't see any). It began to overheat so we pulled over and sat for 40 minutes, refreshed the water, and hung out with the baboons.

We decided to try again, and got about 1000 meters before we could see the water boiling up again. Another 40 minute break, another 1000 meters ... three hours later we hadn't completed a mile and it was turning into dusk. The way back to the park station was all up hill, not to mention the fact that we were still 3 hours from home and that the J's needed their car back...

I was so dirty (had been crawling under the car to figure stuff out) and hot and overall not in a good mood. I really don't do well when I feel unclean. We stood around, stared at the car, did some war dances, screamed, laughed, and mocked ourselves for thinking the day was going to go smoothly. A mutatu (VW bus stuffed with at least 16 people and invariably several chickens) pulled over at one point, and everyone piled out - men, women, children, and everything else in between. They all crowded around me at the hood of the car and start talking and laughing and prodding. I was so paranoid they were going to take off the radiator cover and steam burn the 30 faces that were over the hood. I eventually just yelled, "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!" I think they got the hint cause shortly thereafter they all shook their heads and got back into the bus. Eventually, some dudes showed up and wove a threadbare string in between the car and their truck. It definitely did not seem like it would work.

Fortunately, it did, and ten minutes later we were parked at the station. Still, we had no way to get home. A mechanic was going to come in the morning to fix the car. Fortunately, there were a couple of cars leaving the park and we quickly accosted them, begging for a ride back to Kigali. A group of Americans graciously said yes, and we piled into a massive SUV. We got dropped off about 20 minutes from our house in Kigali, and couldn't find motos, so just started walking...I think we were both pretty delirious at that point, it was about 8pm. After walking for a while we got on mutatu and I hung out the window yelling at people ... like I said - delirious. After what seemed like years, we got home, and in true form, the power was off.