the ultimate half/half

So, for those of you who have had the pleasure of going on multi-state road trips with me, you know that my absolute favorite game is half/half. I'm pretty sure this picture cements my place in the permanent winner hall of fame. (As if there was any question about my already undisputed undefeated status ;)) I was SO excited when we drove over the Equator itself, I'd been ready to yell "half/half" for quite awhile. When the moment came and I delivered the message, all I got was a bunch of blank stares.


Tough break for the Spartans, but look out next year :) (If you want to jump on the bandwagon do it NOW!)

Unfortunately, I didn't get to see the game but not because I'm in Uganda and late night college basketball isn't a big thing. Nope, I spent the weekend in Kampala and a friend and I had convinced a bartender at our hostel to keep the bar open late as we would DEFINITELY be back for the 1am tip off! I thought we were set! All evening I was so nervous, looking at my watch and estimating times to leave/get back. When the time comes we grab a "special hire" (More or less an American style taxi.) and make our way to drop some friends off at a bar before going to watch the game. Because these transport prices aren't set, bartering is involved and a price is agreed upon before the group sets out. Well, after the first stop this driver decided he was no longer copacetic with the agreed upon price. It is common to be given higher prices as a muzungu but we are often able to talk them back down as we know the REAL price. This man, however, wasn't having it and when we tried to get out of the car to get a different driver he locked the doors and started driving away telling us he was taking us to the police station. My friend Chris and I were arguing with him, telling him he had a legal obligation to let us out of the car, etc. but he wasn't having it. He drove us through some EXCEPTIONALLY seedy and sketchy parts of Kampala, places where had he forced us out of the car we would have been in a world of trouble.

To answer your question, no, I wasn't scared - I was annoyed! I wanted to watch the basketball game! I have spent so much time in the past letting anxiety impact how I view and handle things and since I've been here I've finally been able to consciously make the decision that I was no longer going to operate that way. Like last weekend when the mob at the soccer game was coming at us for money, I wasn't nervous at all. In fact, my first instinct was to ask if I could take a picture of the group. I didn't do that :)

Back to THIS WEEK'S legal story, we finally arrived at the police station, each side told their side of the story and finally were forced to compromise. I was fairly pleased with the fairness and legality of the officer we dealt with but the station itself was an entirely different story; an inner-city African police station isn't really my first choice of Saturday night destinations. But, if I HAD to miss the game, this type of experience was ideal, so rich in culture and learning ;)

A couple of other pictures from Kampala this weekend:

Here are a bunch of boda drivers waiting for a customer to come along. Notice how they're wearing jackets? Yeah, it was close to 90 degrees. If it drops into the lower 80's they wear down-filled puffy coats. I don't pretend to understand.

And here's me and my friend Carly on a motorcycle arcade game or, as I call it, "I'm a boda driver!" We were trying to make it very lifelike so Carly is sitting like a lady because of her skirt but from the looks of things, I forgot my puffy coat. I do have the creepy eyes and hand down pat, though.


This is a shot of some mutatus, honking and screaming at one another to get out of the way. In an earlier post I mentioned the slogans across the front of mutatus. The more I look the more I find they're nearly allllll based around Jesus and God being the light. I've decided they are the motivation for Tim Tebow's eye black scripture messages.


And here is a shot of a mutatu all loaded up with live chickens. Can you think of a more effective way to transport them? :)


Standard flooded mud street in Kampala. Whenever that water touches my skin, a little part of me dies.

Last night I went to a very cool African dance forum that was being held for Easter Sunday; Africans are better at all things physical than Caucasians. And, in between dances, almost as if to just underline their athletic superiority, they would do tumbling. I felt like an oaf.

I certainly have been blog visual media heavy the past three days!

This week I will be doing home visits and girl's health counseling out in Golomolo; I'm really looking forward to it! Then, on Friday morning, barring any major political upheaval, some friends are I are headed down to Rwanda for the weekend.
Enjoy your week! And although during the opening days of April I always think of the line from the T.S. Eliott poem, "April is the cruelest month..." in truth, I rather like it! Have a great day!!!

L-o-v-e,
Frannie

Also, I would like you to all have a moment of silence for my ipod, which died this morning. It is a significant personal tragedy for me.