I am lost!

No, I’m not. I’m sitting right here in my flat. It’s just Uganda’s way of saying “it’s been awhile.” Before August escapes without so much as a single blog entry, let’s plagiarize or slightly modify excerpts from emails to piece together recent events.

Since the last entries, I have:

Had 120,000 shillings and my ticket pick-pocketed while waiting to get into Wyclef. Everyone warned me. I thought I was being vigilant. And then I felt a tug, looked down, and saw not only that my purse was open and empty, but that some guys hand was coming out of it. Expletive. In an adrenaline-induced state, I grabbed him by the shirt and demanded my money back. Lexi latched on as well, while Josh went to get the po-po…who proceeded to lead us out of the crowd, up a dark street, and behind a car, where they strip searched said pick-pocketer - to no avail. We’re pretty sure he handed the goods off to his friend. The ticket theft resulted in the most awkward escort ever into the concert. Hundreds of people waiting to get in, and the police bring me to the front of the line and let me in special, all the while yelling, "The whites! Only the whites!"

Been a finalist in the groundnut spitting contest of the Diplo-Olympics. Organized by a bunch of newly found and dearly beloved US Embassy friends the night of the Opening Cermonies, other events included the lime-on-spoon relay race, the shoe flinging competition, the paper airplane throw-off, bocce, and making-as-many-words-as-you-can out of “Kandahar.”

Attended the launch of 'O', UHMG's new condom. Swaaaaank! And scandalous. Held at Silk Lounge, memorable moments included Ragga Dee’s performance of our condom theme song and a dancing duo’s re-enactment of a bedroom scene, which concluded with them under satin sheets seductively displaying ‘O’. Did I mention that it’s black, studded, and contoured?




Almost died. My preferred method of description is “food poisoning like whoa.” “Running stomachs” are fairly regular and almost expected, but this one was complete with fever, chills, and an inability to do anything other than sleep or hang out with my bathroom. 18 hours after onset, I was finally able to totter across the street to The Surgery for antibiotics and oral rehydration solution. Whether it was the salad bar or the severely undercooked steak would require data collection and an epidemiological assessment that I’ve long since forgotten how to conduct.

Added one of those egg crate things to my bed. While it may not seem blog-worthy, this has actually increased my quality of life significantly. During her visit, Carla helped me realize that what I was sleeping on was not a mattress, but a boxspring.

Run into a Hopkins classmate. Literally. While out for my Sunday morning sweat, I saw a mzungu running at me, gave and received the obligatory head nod and smile….when all of a sudden our faces twisted in recognition. Hugs and squeals ensued. To be fair, Janani had told me months ago that Daniela was coming in, but there’s nothing quite like the element of surprise.

Spent way too much time at the newly opened Kampala Latino Club. Killer mojitos, endless black beans, and salsa music that gets even the fuddiest of duddies out of their seats.

Attended my first kasiki (bachelor party) and Ugandan wedding. Highlights: the multiple white Jesus' adorning the church, the Ugandan flag displayed proudly above the pews, and the sermon in which the priest spoke of how the groom can no longer leave the house without telling his wife his purpose – except to go to confession.