An Omani Christmas

To all the Christians out there and everyone else who just loves a reason to celebrate, Merry Christmas!

Christmas in a foreign country was an interesting experience. Oman is not just a foreign country but also a hot and sunny country and a Muslim country. Celebrating in the absence of most of the traditional cues of Christmas – cold, snow, Christmas carols, Christmas lights, crazy shoppers, etc. – forces you to think about what is really most important about this holiday. Here are the answers I came up with:

Family. Over the course of three carefully timed phone calls I spoke to no less than 30 individual family members! Even though these were short conversations, it was more than enough to remind myself what a blessing it is to have people caring about you no matter where you are.

Friends. I spent this Christmas with AIESEC friends. What is interesting about AIESEC is that when you are with a group of AIESEC interns, it is unlikely that two people are from the same country. Coming from very different parts of the world (China, Poland, Uganda, Cameroon…), I am sure we each had a unique image of the typical Christmas. But regardless of what we were comparing it to, there was no doubt that this one different. We were all equally determined to have an enjoyable Christmas and helped each other do just that.

Giving. We went to the souq to do some shopping on Christmas Day. I bought small trinkets for the people I was with. Nothing big, but this was enough to make it feel like Christmas to me!

Being together. With phones and internet at our disposal, physical proximity is not the only way to feel close to people. In fact, when you need to be a little creative to show people you care about them, it only makes you realize more than before what is important to you.

Tradition. I did not take part in most of my own traditions, but I did try new ones. For example, on Christmas Eve, I learned a Polish tradition that involves sharing pieces of a “Christmas wafer” (oplatek) and greeting each person around you one by one. Taking part in any tradition, familiar or unfamiliar, makes a holiday feel like a holiday.

I hope you all enjoyed Christmas and/or your respective holidays and that you are looking forward to the New Year! Cheers!


One of these sharks made a delicious Christmas Eve lunch.


Christmas Day at the yacht club.


Irene and I were excited to find a Christmas tree!


I never thought would hang out on a beach at Christmas!

One Day at a Time

In the United States, we are accustomed to very regular and predictable schedules. Living in a foreign country involves dropping this expectation. I can attempt to illustrate this point through road closings and holidays.

My arrival happened to coincide with a visit from the Queen of England. The problem was that this involved periodic and unpredicatable road closings for a few hours each day to allow the queen, the sultan, and other comrades to pass through. Since there is one main highway running through Muscat and dividing the city in half, this is a big deal. For my first few days, the time I left work was dictated by the road closings. More importantly, the decision to conduct or cancel English classes at AMIDEAST was based upon the state of the roads. If classes were cancelled, the decision was spur of the moment – no more than a day in advance and as little as a few hours. As far as I can tell, this ambiguity is no big deal for students.

If the road closings did not create confusion enough, add in the holidays. Three major holidays have affected the work schedule since I arrived. They are Eid, National Day, and the Islamic New Year. Eid started and finished before I got here. This year, Eid coincided with National Day, a holiday to honor Sultan Qaboos and the Sultanate of Oman, so celebrations were postponed. National Day is generally celebrated on the sultan’s birthday, November 18. Sultan Qaboos bin Said began his rule on July 23, 1970, after his father, Sultan Said bin Taimur, was overthrown. Since then, the country has undergone a remarkable period of development. This year marks a landmark – the 40th National Day – and this holiday is no joke! All the streets are strung with lights (picture the States at Christmas), there are small, large, and giant Omani flags everywhere, and cars are painted green, red and white. For weeks, kids have left school early to practice for National Day demonstrations. In the United States you may expect to go out and see a basketball game on in a bar, but around here lately, you may see, for example, the entire Omani military marching around a stadium, with the sultan solemnly looking on from the stands.

Right now, it is the Islamic New Year. Because the Islamic calendar is a few days shorter than the Gregorian calendar, this holiday does not fall on the same day each year. Instead, it is dictated by the location of moon. It was recently declared that Tuesday (yesterday) through Saturday is a holiday for the public sector. But up until a couple days ago, since there was no telling exactly when the crescent moon would be visible, these day off were not guaranteed. After much speculation and anticipation, people are now enjoying their breaks.

One implication for me is that the start date of our Access Program has been pushed from December 11 to December 13. This is actually a huge relief as it gives me two extra days to find a place to live! (This is a topic for another post which, Insha'Allah, will be a very positive report.)

The unpredictable work schedule can be kind of a hassle, but on the bright side, there is a rumor circulating that December 25-December 29 will be declared a national holiday (a “National Week” to celebrate Oman – why not?). It looks like Christmas break is a real possibility!

An Exquisite Landscape

I arrived in Muscat on a Saturday night and on Sunday morning I started work. Until Thursday, my knowledge of Muscat was largely limited to whatever you can see out the car window between home and work. Thursday and Friday marked the weekend (the weekday is Saturday-Wednesday here) and luckily I got a chance to do some sight seeing. Between yesterday and today, I saw two of the most luxurious resorts in Oman (who knew 6-star hotels even existed), the sultan’s palace, a souq (market) in Muscat, and the Wadi Shab - one of the most beautiful and worthwhile destinations I've ever been to. The wadi is roughly like the Grand Canyon but with water cutting through the middle. I happened to wear my “Ithaca is Gorges” shirt today, so I naturally compared the wadi to the Ithaca gorges. We hiked over rocks and then swam to a small water-filled cave complete with a waterfall inside. I got a taste of Omani hospitality when a generous guy offered to be our “tour guide.” He was fantastic and made sure we enjoyed the cave to its full potential. This involved climbing up over some rocks and then jumping back in the water from a pretty decent height. For any Cornell readers, this was like gorge jumping in closed quarters. I was convinced to jump while holding hands with our impromptu guide. I figured that if I could not jump I did not deserve to continue wearing my Ithaca is Gorges shirt. Overall, the past two days have been great for seeing the absolutely gorgeous scenery of Oman. With mountains, beaches, and even a bit of greenery, Oman has all the elements you could hope to see in a landscape!

Where Am I Again?

Even though I have been in Muscat, Oman, for over 24 hours, I have alternated between being conscious of and completely oblivious to this fact. Before leaving it was hard for me to accept the magnitude of what I was doing. Perhaps I was too consumed with packing a bag of exactly 50 pounds (which I “accomplished” thanks to some rounding down and a generous tip at the airport). I figured that it would hit me once I got to the airport. Saying goodbye to my family, it did to some extent, but not fully. Even when I stopped in London and then Abu Dhabi, I felt like this could have been any old day. Luckily, on the third leg of the trip, as we descended toward Muscat, I felt it – the complete mixture of nervousness and excitement that one would expect when moving to an unfamiliar country for 7 ½ months. When I was certain that what I was seeing below was the real live Middle East, I stared out of that window like a little kid looking for Santa on Christmas Eve.

Then I arrived on the ground. After going through customs I easily spotted my “welcoming committee.” I was at an advantage, since I was looking for the familiar face of Irene, my friend from Uganda. We all quickly got into conversation mode and while talking to new and old friends, I yet again felt like I could have been anywhere. We drove to the AIESEC house, which is very spacious and nicer than I imagined.

I fell asleep pretty easily, but in the middle of the night I woke up in my big double bed thinking “where the heck am I?” As soon as I remembered, I had a moment of feeling very surreal. I soon drifted back to familiar dream world, but when I woke up at 6:15am (no jetlag recovery time for me!) and looked out the window at the mountains and unadorned-yet-elegant Omani architecture, I once again was aware that I was in an amazing place.

The reason I woke up so early was to attend an opening event for the English teaching program taking place in Muscat. I am not teaching in Muscat, but another intern is. It was a great intro to the program (the English Access Microscholarship Program, that is). Speakers included representatives from the Omani ministry of education, AMIDEAST (the nonprofit I am working with), and the U.S. Department of State (who is sponsoring the program). The day kept moving with a nice lunch at an outdoor restaurant with a view of the beach. I split a pizza with another intern (where am I again?). Then we visited the AMIDEAST office were I got a thorough tour and sat in on part of an upper-level English class. After learning more about the company and the program, I am feeling very grateful for the opportunity to work here!

Just as I was starting to accept that I was indeed in a new and very different part of the world, a friend drove me to the United States. I mean - to a nearby shopping mall. The first thing I saw was Sephora. The second thing I saw was Aldo (my favorite shoe store); and the third thing I saw was Forever 21. True - if you just looked around at the Arabic translations and the dress of men and women, you would notice distinct differences compared to the U.S., but just looking at the stores, I could have easly convinced myself that I was not just in an American mall, but one of the nicest one I’ve ever seen.

It’s nice to feel comfortable and natural here, but I hope to eventually fully appreciate where I am. I have no doubt that I will, especially once I leave the capital and start teaching – but it might take some time!

Thank you sincerely to all the people reading this and supporting me with this experience. I love you!

xox
Meg

My Permanent Souvenir

Written Friday, July 31 – Sunday, August 2

I now have one fewer body part than I did when I arrived. Unfortunately, I lost a finger holding a stick of sugar cane while someone chopped it with a machete.

Kidding. (But the above is something I fear.)

Actually, the missing body part is my appendix. My body decided that while I was half way across the world was an appropriate time to come down with appendicitis. After two days and nights spent in a nearby clinic, I am back home (my Kampala home) with a scar and a story.

The symptoms were stomach pain and a fever. Convinced that I had a parasite (delightful, I know), I popped into the clinic around 10:30 am Tuesday to get checked out. Thought it would take ten minutes and I would go to work afterwards. Imagine my surprise when nine hours later, I was not only still there (I did get a lunch break) but informed I’d be staying the night to be monitored. The doctor suspected appendicitis, but was very hesitant to send me into unnecessary surgery. It felt like an episode of House; I’d never been the subject of such a thorough medical investigation. Around 10:00 pm he made the call and I was transferred by ambulance to another clinic for my first real operation. It seemed pretty surreal at the time. An appendectomy in Uganda. …And I intended to pop in for 10 minutes!

Random note about the ambulance: I had to laugh at the fact that literally the day before this, as Jo and I watched an ambulance attempt to “rush” through the congested streets of Kampala, I commented that I would hate to need an ambulance in Kampala. And the next day… I find myself in an ambulance in Kampala. Granted, this was not an extreme emergency, there were no sirens, and the streets we took were not busy at that time. But still…

Jo has been my personal angel during the whole thing. She has been my mother, my maid, my counselor, and my physical therapist and has barely left my side from the time I entered the clinic until now. She has been the liaison with my parents and with the other AIESECers and interns. The poor girl didn’t sleep the night of surgery and dealt with all my complaints. A gold star (or two) for Jo!!

All week (pre surgery) I’d been insisting on attending the last week of work and had to constantly be convinced by Mommy Jo not to. Unfortunately I missed a full week with the NGO and three out of four days teaching at my school. It was, however, really important to me not to miss the finale of our project called “Come and Ask Day.” This was a chance for the kids from each of our schools to showcase what they learned over two months. I had set the final week aside to plan and practice with my kids but I unfortunately had to relinquish most control to my substitute, Isaac.

Despite the speculation, I did make it to the ceremony. I was released from the clinic Friday morning and was at the school that afternoon. It was so nice seeing my kids again. I showed up a bit late and when I walked in I spotted my group and caught the relieved expressions on their faces. Made me really happy. I saw one kid (my favorite… don’t tell anyone) sort of throw his hands in the air and thank God. He was set to make a speech during the ceremony and told me afterwards that he could not have possibly made it without me there. Aaww!!

Now that the project is over, I can say that it was so wonderful working with these kids for two months. The group wittled down to just about ten kids by the end. But I feel like I really got to know them. They were all really appreciative of the class and let me know ho much they enjoyed it. They all expressed their sadness that I would be leaving them to go back the US so soon. Despite all the challenges we faced, this made the project very worthwhile. And they tried to get me to stay home…

The principal deserves a word, too. He has been just spectacular during my entire stay. Making sure I don’t miss any of Uganda’s greatest attractions, making me feel comfortable in his school, inviting me to lunch with his family, and being very cooperative when I asked the school to host Come and Ask Day. Not to mention that after my surgery, he was the very first to visit me with bananas and apple juice. He also arranged to have me picked up in a car so I could to come to the ceremony (since taxis and bodas are out of the question at the moment).

I don’t remember if I had mentioned my proposed trip to Nairobi or not. Anyway, our proposal turned to reality early this week when Jo and I purchased round trip tickets and our visas. And then crumbled (for me at least) when I cancelled my trip Friday. I debated but realized that I had a lot of reasons not to go. I’m now certain I made the right choice. Just gives me another reason to return to Africa. After a debate of her own, Jo is still going. We have accumulated lots of contacts there during the planning process, so she should be set with people to stay with and show her around.

While Jo is away, I will have plenty of support. Everyone has been super in terms of visiting me in the clinic and now at home. The AIESECers and interns. My Uganda family. The guys from work. The principal. Makes the healing process much easier.

Before ending, I’d like to give a shout out to my lucky stars. My illness was smacked right in between a trip to rural Kumi and a plane ride to Nairobi (flying and inflamed appendices don’t’ mix). If it had to happen it Uganda, this was the time.

So, I’ve left a little piece of me in Uganda. Some leave their hearts; I’ve left my appendix. And Uganda’s left its mark on me on the form of a scar. A permanent souvenir.

--------
Home in exactly one week! (sad, exciting, scary…)


Much love,

Meghan

A little work, a little play

Written July 26, 2009

In the past two weeks, I have visited Queen Elizabeth National Park (the play) to the west and a district called Kumi to the east (the work).
Queen Elizabeth was a fun outing with some of the interns. A budget safari with budget accommodations. Not that I’m complaining in the least. Our safari vehicle was no different than the taxis that we take through town. Since taxi windows are not designed for animal viewing, all 11 of us hopped on the top of the taxi for a panoramic view. The views were spectacular. The feeling of sitting on metal bars on top of a bumpy taxi was not. In fact, after two days’ worth of game drives, we all felt quite bruised in the backside. But the views were worth it. Seriously, I think our method beat sitting inside a typical jeep. And I must add that the discomfort of the drive was completely cancelled out by the extreme comfort of a HOT shower. Yes, the hostel we stayed in had a water heater! One of the best feelings in the world. I mean it.
The ride took about 8 hours each way (despite the 4 hour estimate we were given). Since we’ve travelled most weekends, such long taxi/ bus rides have really become a way of life. My favorite part is what you might call the “rest stops.” I feel that only a video camera could do the situation justice, but basically, you get to a certain point and uniformed men and women literally run/ sprint to the taxi carrying various food items. From all directions, sticks with meat, chicken, and liver get thrust in the windows and shoved in your face as the vendors try to get you to buy. Fried bananas, water bottles, etc. Chaos. The nourishment is sometimes quite welcome, though. I really wish I could video it because it because it is the image rather than the situation itself that is priceless.

July 22 through July 26 was spent in Kumi District in eastern Uganda. Jo and I went to do some field work with our NGO. This region is currently experiencing widespread drought and famine. After spending weeks mobilizing food and clothing donations from a giant market in Kampala, we travelled to Kumi to distribute the donations and also survey the situation there. Surprisingly, despite the drought, it rained every day we were there. We were praised for bringing the rains with us. It’s a good thing my Ugandan name means “fortune.” Hopefully the rains will stay.
It was really interesting and heart-wrenching to observe life and living conditions in this part of the country. Very different from Kampala. And of course very different from home, too. Although we stayed with a family in a relatively large mud house with a tin roof, mud huts with grass ceilings and a diameter of about 8 or 9 feet are the norm.
We went around to various communities and homes to talk to people there. Some of the stories are really touching. We spoke to a 53 or 63-year old woman (her ID and her statement didn’t line up) who is infected with HIV and has 3 infected children. We saw a woman of about 100 years who struggled to sit up outside her hut, but managed to muster out in her language some of her needs. A mosquito net, a mattress, etc. It is clear that these people are in fact facing a bad condition. Driving through the area, you can see the dried up crops. All people we interviewed said similar things about having relied on farming their gardens in the past, but being stuck now with no source of income.
We distributed lots of our donations in a struggling village called Oseera. Things were, to put it simply, hectic. Quite frustrating and overwhelming at times. It was clear that these people are indeed in strong need. Not that what we donated made much of a drop in the ocean, but it is amazing to see how eager people are to get a cupful each of flour and beans. When we gave out the clothes, people went crazy. Lots of pushing and grabbing. I’m now that much more aware that successful charity work of this type takes careful, careful planning.
Perhaps the most interesting part of the visit was sitting in a circle with some Oseera elders drinking from a communal pot of local brew. A very African tradition in which I’m glad I got to take part. Yes, I did sip from the pot. If you can’t picture it, imagine a big stationary pot of warm foamy beer with 5 or 10 windy, meter-long straws hanging out and getting passed along. Pretty good, I may add. This was a good opportunity to sit and chat with village members about all sorts of issues. Of course, the first thing I wanted to talk about was the details of this brew-drinking tradition. It is taken every day by the elders (about 40 and above). I was told that in light of the famine, elders often take brew as their lunch to save food for their kids. Shocking… But it remains an issue of interest to me whether the money spent on brew could be put toward actual food. Or if the millet used in the brew could be used to make bread. We talked of hunger (of course), marriage and polygamy (a conversation I somehow get wrapped up in very often), parent/ child relationships, and more. A pretty relaxed environment in which to chat.
We asked them what tends to be discussed around the pot. They answered that they discuss a variety of community issues. I’d love to sit in on one of those meetings.
It is worth noting that as we drove away from this “get-together” in our pickup, the guys (all men) I was with let me know that I had gone against African tradition by sitting in a chair. Apparently, women are meant to sit on the ground, especially if a man does not have a seat. Sure enough, I thought back and realized As in hindsight that I was in fact the only female with a chair. Honestly, if I had known before, I’m not sure what I would have done. I feel like more of a feminist here than I have been before. The thing, though, is that when it comes to views on women, everything is so intimately tied to culture, tradition, and history, so it’s not such a straightforward issue. Which is why I find this an interesting, if also frustrating, discussion.
The ride home to Kampala was an adventure as always. The 6-hour ride was bumpy as usual. This time, we had the very last row and I was seriously concerned that my head was going to hit the ceiling as we bounced down the road. I was thinking, though, if it was bad for me, it must have been worse for the poor chicken under my seat. Yes, there was lots of poultry and other animals on this journey. One of the chickens belonged to our group. I have to laugh at how quickly such foreign practices come to seem so normal.

Off topic, but before signing off, I want to mention discuss how happy I am that I came abroad with AIESEC of all organizations. It allows you to meet and connect with people from all over the world which I find so perfect. I now have friends from: England, the Netherlands, Japan, Egypt, Sweden, Canada, France, Rwanda, and more. And of course, lots of friends from Uganda. Despite the [many] associated challenges, the fact that this is a student organization makes it really easy to connect to people. As I sat at dinner with about 10 people the other night and realized that no two people were from the same country, I had a corny song we sang in an elementary school (6th grade I believe) concert running through my head. [Picnic of the World: “…All sitting at the same big picnic with the same big blanket eating hamburgers and sandwiches…”] (Anyone remember it?!)

On that uplifting and corny note I bid farewell. 7 ½ weeks down and 2 to go! See you soon.

Meghan

finally

Written July 6 - 11

Things are going quite swimmingly now. I have become accustomed to 10:00 dinner, taxi rides, bargaining with boda boda drivers, and my permanently dirty feet. I am still not used to cold showers and I really miss iced coffee.

I have not written in a long time and have lots to say (note the time span above). For the skimmers out there, enjoy the subtitles.

KAMPALA MEETS UNITED STATES
Uganda turned into the Unites States for a bit on July 4. Happy Independence Day everyone. I went to an event at the American Recreation Center. There was a barbecue and fireworks. With the exception of the tribal dances we watched as entertainment, I felt like I could have been at home celebrating the 4th. Hotdogs and hamburgers, a kid with a football (no, not a soccer ball), and mothers spraying bug spray on their kids. Very American. Jo came along. Imagine… they let her in even though we were celebrating our independence from her own country…

Actually the United States’ presence is felt almost every day thanks to the African roots of our president. I still find it hysterical to see… “Obama Supermarket,” the “Obama Hair Salon,” and my personal favorite… the “Barack Obama Street Ghetto.” (the first are actual names; the last is graffiti). I’ve bough chapati from “Obama Smart Takeaway” and have had a soda opened with an Obama bottle opener. Then there are the Obama bracelets, belt buckles, and scarves. I may try to determine the most ridiculous item and then take it home as a souvenir.

TRIP TO JINJA
To finish off the July 4 weekend, I went with Jo and Isaac to Jinja in the East. Highlights were seeing the source of the Nile, visiting the absolutely beautiful Bujagali Falls, and experiencing a 3-person boda ride to get from one to the other (certainly illegal). The lowlight was the 2-hour taxi ride home where about half of my behind and three quarters of my back had a place to rest. Did I mention the resting part was on a metal bar and the ride was bumpy… Something that made me laugh out loud was that just when you thought this little taxi was filled to capacity (actually, officially past capacity), the conductor opens the door and lets a mother, her baby, and her toddler on. I think I exclaimed, “You have to be kidding me,” pretty loudly. When it comes to public transportation, though, anything goes. (Did I mention how many people we almost ran over as we drove down the shoulder of the road to bypass traffic?)

WORK AT VISION FOR SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT
On to work… I am so grateful for the NGO I ended up in. It is seriously perfect for me. We have done very varied work. No day is exactly like any of the others. As I mentioned earlier, they describe themselves as a family and I have been welcomed with very, very open arms. Jo has now been welcomed too. She joined me working there recently. These people are not only an inspiration due to their vision, but also some of the most hysterical, charismatic, fun people I have ever met. A superb combination.

Selected things I have done so far:

SCHOOLS
I’ve visited many schools with the team to discuss HIV/ AIDS and life skills. The character of the schools vary. Some large some small. Some primary some secondary. Some groups clearly more knowledgeable than others. The largest group I’ve encountered so far I estimated to have about 175 kids. A good challenge.
Speaking about HIV and AIDS in primary and secondary schools is enlightening. Judging by the questions we get, there are so many misconceptions. Some deal with the US and the western world. For example: “Where was AIDS manufactured? Is it true it was manufactured in Florida, America?”

The hardest thing about the schools is the language barrier. Although all the kids we work with know English for the most part, many of them, especially the younger ones, either prefer Luganda or have a really hard time understanding different accents. So a lot of the time, I need to have a translator. When the language keeps changing, sometimes it is hard to keep up with the flow of the class.

CONDOM OUTREACH
In other words, condom demonstrations for large groups of boda boda drivers on the streets of Bwaise. I was surprised to see how little these guys knew about condoms. Again, I was unfortunately more of an observer since the conversations tend to occur in Luganda. But body language and tones of voice told me that they were eager to learn.

HOME VISITS
I have met various people with various medical and personal conditions. There are many but I will illuminate two of the stories. One is a 12 year old boy named Willy who was not only born with an intestinal condition that resulted in him having a hole on his side instead of the usual place, but also has Down’s Syndrome. He is the sweetest kid you’ve ever seen. It’s frustrating discussing the best ways to help him. His issues are simultaneously medical and social. He is not in school now. According to the story I’ve been told, when he was in school, the kids made fun of him and he had to leave. We visited the hospital the other day and the doctor said that a) despite what his caretaker had thought, there is no procedure that can help him right now and b) he strongly advises schooling. But he will have to attend nursery school with 3 and 4 year olds. In my non-expert opinion, neither nursery school nor school with other normally developing 12 year olds will be ideal for him in this complicated situation. But the type of support he really needs in not available to him. When you can’t have everything, which part do you sacrifice?

Another story that touched me is that of a woman and her adorable 9 and 10 year old boys. All are HIV positive. But all were so upbeat and happy. The boys, I was told, know of their condition, but don’t necessarily yet know the seriousness of it. One moment that stuck with me was when I got a chance to look at one of the boys’ school notebooks. I had been told he was very bright. As I looked through and saw the neat handwriting and the perfect grades on homework assignments, I thought, here’s a kid that has so much potential—has everything he needs to go far in life… plus one thing that will definitely hold him back. That suddenly became a very overwhelming reality.

FINDING MY CALLING AS A RADIO PERSONALITY
Okay, this is probably not my calling, but Jo and I did get to speak on the radio recently. In a couple of weeks, Jo and I are traveling with Vision to a northern district called Kumi. Kumi is a very impoverished area—closer to what you might call the “stereotypical Africa.” Currently, there is a famine occurring there and lots of people are dying of hunger. As Vision has done in the past, we are going to travel there with donations. We used this radio show to get publicity and encourage people to give what they can. When we got there—Surprise! Jo and I are the ones presenting. So we discussed our cause and got interviewed on air. Finally, I can check appearing on radio off my life to-do list.

MY BIRTHDAY
I have officially turned 21 in Kampala! I had a fun couple of nights celebrating. I went out with some of the AIESECers and celebrated at midnight. Appropriately, we entered to a casino where I lost exactly 21,000 schillings to blackjack (you know, the game where you count up to 21…). So appropriate. The following night, on my “actual” birthday, the guys from Vision threw me the nicest birthday party. Complete with some traditional Ugandan flair. Lots of speeches and stand-up comedy (Did I mention they are hysterical?). A big local feast, cake, dancing, presents that were presented in a procession. And the highlight of the night: the presentation of my Ugandan name, Mukisa (means “fortune”). Definitely made for a memorable birthday.

That’s all for now.

Signed,

Mukisa Meghan S. (as it appears on my Vision ID card)