Rule #1: Be Flexible.

    Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't blogged in a few days... I have been prioritizing my free time with some more important things... like fighting the Capitol alongside Katniss Everdeen in Catching Fire and of course, sleeping.
    This Tuesday morning just as KK and I were about to leave for school we were reminded once again that we aren't in Kansas anymore... I mean, that we aren't in Alabama anymore. The weather here in Uganda is always changing. One moment the sky is perfectly clear and the next it's filled with dark, heavy rain clouds. Well, that's exactly what we experienced this morning. Mrs. Darlene said that once it starts raining even an umbrella won't help you keep dry. With that in mind, KK and I decided to wait out the storm.
    We arrived at school an hour late, but thankfully so. Our day with the children can be summed up in a nutshell, "Change in weather makes children and cattle crazy". I just kept thinking, How do teachers do it? The children were crying, hitting, crying, pulling hair... did I mention they were crying? I think I heard "Teacher, he's beating me" a hundred times. If there's anything I left the school with today, it's a much greater understanding and appreciation for teachers. So to all you teachers out there, I thank you kindly.
    Whatever trouble the children posed, we made it through the school day knowing the afternoon would be much better. Oh, how wrong we were.
    The plan was to go into Kampala with our African guide, Jean-Pierre, for lunch and some shopping. KK and I were so excited to get a taste of the bustling city and culture! Things were beginning to look up when we boarded the "orange bus" and comfortably road into town. Kampala is a world apart from Zana. Horns raging, people pushing and shoving, voices on loud speakers, whistles directing traffic... My head was spinning. We rounded the corner, and then another corner, walked a little farther, and farther... Finally, KK, feeling quite tired and hungry asked, "J.P. are we going anywhere specific? Or are you just showing us around?" "Oh no, no. We're going to the mall, Garden City." He responded. We knew very well where we were supposed to be going. But after thirty minutes of what seemed to be aimless walking, it made us wander if he knew.
     Our doubts were confirmed when he stopped to ask for directions, not once, but three times. Forty-five minutes later, we arrived at Garden City. Ah, a shopping mall has never looked so beautiful in my entire life. We took lunch in the "mizungu hot-spot", CafeJava. KK had a teriyaki chicken wrap and I had a beef burger and fries. We inhaled the food and unfortunately, it was soon time to walk again. We went into Garden City and then to another mall just a ways down the road.
    Leaving the mall was when all the fun really began. J.P. informed us that he wanted to see his cousin in town before we headed back home and promised it'd only be five minutes out of the way. Five o'clock traffic flooded the streets and the sidewalks. The pushing and shoving had increased by 100%. It took everything in me to focus on simply keeping up with J.P. and KK. My concentration was broken by a rough tapping on my shoulder. "Zip up your bag!" I heard a woman yell. "Your bag is open. Carry it in front of you. They're trying to..." I looked at my backpack to find it hanging wide open. KK was looking with the same disbelief at her own bag. In a crowd full of dark, we, pasty Americans, stick out like a sore thumb. Of course, we were walking targets. Fortunately, the thief was too short on time, we supposed, and left everything untouched.
    We walked with our arms tightly wrapped around the bags, frantically watching everyone pass expecting a second attempt at steeling our things. Already feeling unsafe, we turned a corner into a very sketchy alley and entered the textile warehouse. Presently consumed with the Hunger Games, I couldn't help but feel I was in the Hub and that Peacekeepers would be there to arrest us at any minute. To my relief they never showed up. Instead, our initial waiting time of five minutes was extended to twenty.
    J.P.'s cousin escorted us to the place where we were to find a taxi. And trust me, there were plenty to choose from. The sea of taxis swarmed with people trying to sell us anything and everything. I remember thinking how stupid KK and I were to think we could face Kampala on our own.
    The ride home was more or less a blur seeing how all I wanted to do was rehydrate and shower all the exhaust and dust from town off of my sweaty body. We finally made it home, greeted by Mrs. Darlene and Mr. Dave who we practically ran to for comfort.
    Today puts a whole, new meaning behind Rule #1: Be flexible.




                                                                                                - Mary Grace