I realize I have been MIA. Where have I been? Mainly in Italy. Living life in the real world and not in the blogosphere. In truth, life has just been too turbulent in the last few years; there have been too many changes. New love. New job. New home. Lost love. New friends. Dating (unsuccessfully… oh so many stories). Travel adventures (mainly involving conference centres for work… oh so many boring stories). More details to come…
An Ode to Dinner
Warning: this story is graphic and not for everyone.
Today I decided to face reality and come to terms with food sourcing. In other words, I slaughtered a turkey, or at least supervised while someone else did. As an omnivore and semi-regular meat-eater, I felt it was time I gain an appreciation for the life that is taken in order for me to have sustenance. The man who sacrificed my turkey laughed at this concept as I documented the event, but as someone accustomed to the luxuries and conveniences of the developed world where meat comes beautifully packaged and perfectly trimmed, I thought it was an important and necessary rite of passage.
In a Sea of Yellow, Black & Red
I went to the Uganda Cranes versus Togo football game. Sadly, Uganda lost 1-0. Togo dominated the first half and although Uganda got their act back together, it was a little too late in the end. But enough of the game commentary…
The best way to describe the experience was organized chaos. From the rows of vendors lined along the road into the stadium selling snacks, beverages, hats and fan paraphernalia; to the women’s security line (there was only 1 for women and 4 for men) where they confiscated all the beverages bought outside; to the stands… it was a fantastic gong show filled with nationalistic pride and energy that I hope to repeat again in the near future. (Uganda versus Ghana hopefully. I am still trying to figure out how to deal with torn loyalties between my Black Stars of my old home and the Cranes of my new home…)
You Know You Are In Africa When…
I had an epiphany last week: I am in (East) Africa! I know that this sounds obvious and ridiculous, but it really didn’t hit me until I had left the hustle and bustle of the city and been confronted by baboons and elephants on the road, and was able to watch the sun set over the savannah woodlands that made up the Ugandan landscape. I felt puny, insignificant and in awe.
When you are in the city, it feels like you could be anywhere. Yes, race and culture will come into play, but when a city has a substantial expat population and has bee influenced by the global economy (aka global shrinkage) for long enough, the goods and services available, the city attitude and happenings, and the general pulse of the city seem almost universal. Cities and capitals of developing nations have a similar vibe to them. The real culture of a country is easiest observed in the rural areas.
How time flies… A month in Uganda!
Anyone can tell you that adjusting to a new place takes time. It takes even longer when you are in a new country and culture. In fact, there is a whole science to explain the ebbs and flows one faces while adjusting to a new culture. Many of you may be familiar with the culture shock (cultural adjustment) curve describing the various stages of the intercultural journey… For those less familiar, it is a squiggly line explaining the highs and lows of leaving your comfort zone.
For some this journey is dramatic. Call me a sage, a pro, emotionally desensitized or acutely self-aware, but it appears that a lifetime of international travel and living abroad has resulted in more subtle ebbs and flows. This means that I am less reactive to my new surroundings: my honeymoon period is less “wows and OMGs” in amazement and bewilderment and more “cools,” usually because I have seen something similar before. Similarly, my culture shock is less severe: it may last mere minutes or hours rather than days, weeks or months. In fact, sometimes I am not aware that I have been affected by an incident until various issues have accumulated and I burst with a confusing mixture of emotional responses: angry outbursts, tears, uncontrollable laughter. Needless to say, it is not an attractive look.
The wild side of Uganda…
I have discovered I am a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I came to this realization while white water rafting on the Nile River, one of the world’s premiere rafting locations and home to the Nile Special (an awesome enough rapid that one of Uganda’s best beers was named after it). Most of the other people in the group was freaking out, hearts thumping and getting goosebumps as we plunged over waterfalls, got thrashed around by turbulent rapids and flipped out of our inflatable rafts into the white water; however, I seemed to be the epitome of cool and relaxed, enjoying the sensation of getting sucked under the rapids and being spit back out. In fact, I seemed to like it so much that I felt the need to get tossed out of my boat one more time while the rest of my friends and raft mates remained in the boat. It was fun and exciting as I realized the sheer force of nature and was reminded how insignificant I am.
And so the adventure begins…
Uganda. What a beautiful country. On the flight from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, my nap was broken by glimpses of semi-arid regions, savannahs with forested riverbanks (sadly, I did not spot any elephants or giraffes – I tried really hard), and burnt red earth juxtaposed by lush green hills. We landed and I had to put my scarf back on because it was wet and cool. It reminded me of a rainy summer day in Vancouver.
My first impressions of this new country I am to call home (for the next several months, anyway)…
The Little Global Nomad 