Last night Carolyn and I went to another prayer service at Dr. Opio's clinic. I think when someone is sick the whole family comes and hangs out at the clinic because it is a cool place to be. Dr Opio had a crackling and squeaking PA system set up, and there was singing and dancing. One song was performed by the clinic staff in English just for us. I am continually amazed by the natural voice and rhythm ability of these people. I feel like a clunky white girl. Forget about all the "how black are you" facebook quizzes. I am as white as they come. Ok, maybe Carolyn has me beat by a step or two. Here they tell her that she smells like "wet chips" or potato chips when she sweats. I wonder what I smell like?
My sunburn is intensifying. My favorite is when the strap of my bag or camera chafe across my neck just right. And my face feels like it is perpetually on fire.
This morning we went to the market to buy oxen for the villages. It was great. Funny that all the animals made me feel at home. I just felt like the cows and goats would probably speak English if they could talk at all, and we would get along like gangbusters. With the help of Emmanuel, Francis, Jasper, and a very handsome Tony, Carolyn bought six handsome bulls, one goat (for emmanuel) 100 oranges and a pile of casava. The guys herded their livestock back to their respective villages and we took the oranges and casava home.
When we got back, somehow Carolyn miraculously talked the girls out of making lunch for us so I was spared another foray into the adventureland of the Ugandan diet. Felix told us that on his last visit to the US, his host had stocked his apartment with food for him, which he didn't discover for about 5 days, and when he did, he told his host that all the food wouldn't do him any good because as an African man he could no more cook than birth a child. Leeroy would love it here.
Esther took us to the shops to buy fabric to make me an african dress. She is a very skilled seamstress. Even I am impressed.
