Kids fly kites in Uganda

Before I left to come here, I "google-imaged" Uganda as much as possible to help paint a picture of what life is like here. Not successful. There is no way to understand a place without visiting and observing for yourself. I have compiled a few of my observations to share how life is the same, yet very different, for me here in Uganda.

So, like the title says, kids fly kites here. While walking home from training the other day, a kid came running at me, kite in hand. Now, this wasn't your classic colorful, made-in-China kite. It was a homemade kite:

*cut-open black plastic bags (probably found as litter on the street)
*scrap pieces of wood (probably sticks found on the ground)
*string tied to the kite and long enough to make the kite fly 3 meters in the air (again, probably found on the ground)
*extra plastic bags ripped into strips, tied down the string to create those pretty ribbons

Further along my journey home a kid ran up from behind me. When he was just far enough ahead, he began doing cartwheels in the street. Another seemingly universal pastime for kids. Only here, kids roam freely through the streets, no kid-leashes necessary.

I couldn't believe it, but was happy that I witnessed the same day as the kite and the cartwheel...

Paper planes! Yahoo-paper planes are also a universal pastime for kids. Again, the same but different from home. Paper to make paper planes is recycled. Good blank paper is used for school. Used paper found in the streets is used for paper places. Genius. Free, recycled toy.

So moving on, every time the latest pop song comes on the radio (especially any Rhianna  song) I find myself with an echo as I sing. No, my sound waves aren't bouncing back at me. My 5 and 6 year old brothers are singing along with me. Probably one of the coolest things I've experienced here so far. In my life before Peace Corps Uganda, I was belting those Rhianna songs in the car in upstate NY. Here, I am singing with my little Ugandan brothers via the 1980s massive boom-box in our dining/living room with a fork as the antenna. Otherwise the Rhianna songs would come in fuzzy! The fork is completely necessary to thoroughly enjoy the music. Please don't stop the music, music, music...yeah, they play a lot of Rhianna here. Needless to say, listening to music is the same, yet very different here. Did I mention we check to see if the power has gone out by seeing if the radio has stopped playing or not. Yup, it's the best way to check.

I think I've mentioned the hand-washing of my clothes here. Having a washing machine here is a funny joke. I actually really enjoy washing my stuff by hand. Just like back home, I get my laundry done on the weekends (every weekend because 2 weeks worth of clothes would take all day to wash). So I spent a few hours washing my clothes this morning, including my sheets, which isn't fun. Anyway, you know when you fill your arms with clothes and walk from the washing machine to the drier? And you inevitably drop a few socks or some other article of clothing on the floor? Yeah, that happens here too. Except, I wash my clothes in basins outside, so when I drop something on my way from the basin to the clothes line I have to rewash it. Not because I am a germ-a-phobe but because it is covered in dirt and mud...instantly. So that happened a few times this morning. I wish my clumsiness of dropping my laundry a few feet from the clothes line stayed back in the states. Oh-well.

Oh and fun fact: while washing my clothes this morning my sister grabbed a chicken out of no where...I had no idea it was roaming around the property...with knife in hand. It startled me and all I could say was, "since when have we had a chicken?!" Now, I probably dodge 50 chickens every day in the streets so seeing one isn't a big deal. But seeing one in my sister's hand was shocking. Anyway, she responded how she usually responds to my questions...she just laughed. Then proceeded to say, "I do not fear killing it." So right then and there she killed it and cleaned it. Since I don't eat meat I can't tell you how it tasted, but I heard it was good! Very fresh and every single part of the chicken will be used and eaten since we cannot afford waste and do not have a fridge to keep it longer.

There is also the concept of landscaping here. My mom tried to "cut" the grass the other day, which is basically just hacking at it with a long machete type thing, but it was too dull. So she hired a man to come today with everything he needed literally strapped to his bicycle. In no time the grass was "cut." Awesome.

I will end on my most-favorite observation. Today while putting my clothes away and making my bed I heard the jingle, "it's a small world after all." So I ran next door to my sister's room to ask why the man on the motorbike was playing that song. She looked at me like I was dumb and said, "ice cream."

Ahh!!! The classic ice cream truck exists in Uganda! Now it isn't a pimped out ice cream truck, but that little motorbike with a cooler attached filled with ice cream and music playing does the trick. And of all possible ice cream truck songs to be playing it had to be playing, "it's a small world after all." So there you have it. Irony in its most pure form.

So, life for me here is very different from home, but I'm finding similarities all the same.