Adventure to Bujagali Falls

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

As usual it was a hot Wednesday afternoon without a breeze coming into the office. Ruth and I decided to visit the Bujagali Falls, a popular tourist attraction. Wanting to get the best deal for our money we asked the staff the prices of transportation and the ticket costs. Everything in Uganda is negotiable, guess that’s why I like it so much, I love it when locals say it cost this much, you give them a look, and they say, “Did I mention the discount?” It’s like having coupons without having to spend Sunday afternoon clipping them. Back to the story: The directions were to get a van taxi (In Niger they were bush taxi’s) for 500 shillings to the round-about, then a boda-boda to the falls for 3,000 shillings. Ruth and I head out. As we are walking we start discussing the dark rain clouds above us. Both of us are worried that it looked like rain, but it’s not rainy season, so it won’t rain. We are used to the clouds threatening rain but then it never rains. We catch a taxi, tell the conductor where we need to go and we‘re off. A conductor is the guy who opens the door, takes your money, lets you off, etc. We were on of the last people on this packed taxi. Ruth and I are enjoying the ride and the breeze. Then it starts to downpour. The locals do not like getting wet, the windows shut immediately. No more cool breeze. Really? It’s just water and the air was so cool. Really? The taxi instantly becomes hotter, people start sweating and the smell is awful. Thankfully, because of the rain, more people want to get on, so every few minutes the doors would open.

As I was beginning to think, “Wow, for 500 shillings the taxi bus sure does take you a long way,“ the conductor turns to us and asks, “Where are you going?” We replied, “To the round about.” He shakes his head and states, “ You don’t know where you are going.” Sure we do, we are going to the Round-About. Looking around the taxi bus, we were the last people on the bus from the original starting place, there was maybe a few other people on the bus. The taxi is only 5 rows, with space for 3 or 4 people across. Well apparently the round-about was one of the first stops! Thankfully, he did not make us get out of the taxi in the pouring rain. We were to ride the rest of his route, then on the way back he would tell us where the round about was. After the lovely 45 minute to an hour extra on the taxi, the rain let up, and we reached the round-about. The taxi drive was supposed to be about a 5 minute drive, from where we got on to the round-about. Whoops. Mistake number one.

Now it’s time to find some boda-bodas. Ruth had to ride side saddle because of the skirt she was wearing so we flagged down two boda-bodas, negotiated the price, told them that we needed to stick together. No problem. Well as soon as we start moving, my boda-boda takes a sharp right turn while Ruth and her boda-boda continue straight. Now I do not know if my overreaction that is about to come happened because of the sexual violence work I am doing and I know about the horror stories of girls on boda-boda’s that occur late at night or if it was just because I was not the one driving therefore I wasn’t in control. Could have been a little of both. As soon as the man turned right, and I saw Ruth going straight, I flipped. I started screaming at the man, “What are you doing?!, No! You were suppose to follow my friend, What are you doing, I am getting off, go back!” I am pretty sure that with me being Italian and a spit in image of my mother and grandmother that my hands were flaring all around as I was yelling. We pull into a gas station, and I am still yelling, telling him that I am getting off and pointing in the direction that we came from. He calmly says me to, “Mzungu, look they are waiting.” I turn my head and sure enough Ruth and her boda-boda man are waiting. He then tell me, “The ride to Bujagali Falls is a long one, I needed to get some gas.” My only response was, “Well you should have told me first. You scared me. Don’t do that again!” Embarrassing crazy mzungu mistake number two.

As we get to the entrance of the falls we just keep walking in. The security guard stopped us to see if we paid. Whoops. Mistake number three. We never saw where we were suppose to pay. Well the guard was kind enough to walk us there; we had walked right passed the wooden booth. Since we are not Ugandans, we had to pay 3,000 shillings. I saved the recipe.

The Bujagali Falls were breathtaking. Luckily, since the rain Ruth and I were the only people there. Eventually more people showed up from a tour group but we had already finished. After we got the pictures we wanted and the video recordings we sat at the restaurant on the property, drank a Pepsi, sat in comfy chairs and watch and listened to the falls. It would be a great place to just sit and read a book, or have a date. Since Ruth and I had neither, we just talked about how great it would be. Haha.

On our way back, we flagged down a boda-boda man who wanted to charge us 4,000 shillings from the falls to the Jinja office, we were trying to bypass the whole taxi ride. His friend came up, who was very old grizzled man (for a boda-boda driver), who was said he would do it for 3,300 shillings. His friend, unhappily agreed. During the ride back, I was finally brave enough to use the video camera. I do not think my driver was very thrilled. I tried to do it unsuspectingly, so we will see how to video comes out.

My boda-boda man tried to charge me 4,000. Well I had a quick talk with him about honestly, how that wasn’t nice to try to overcharge me after he agreed to a lower price, and taking advantage of mzungus was not a nice thing to do.

All in all, the 3 hour adventure was a lot of fun filled with care-free laughs.

Background on the falls:

Bujagali Falls (the seven falls) are created by a huge rocky ledge, rising in places to forested islands, where the River Nile drops 3 meters, taking it’s first big step on a 6,500 kilometer journey from Lake Victoria to the Mediterranean sea. The flow here averages 800,000 liters per second (Equator Rafts Uganda Pamphlet).

Jinja, Islands, and Random Updates

After some confusion with meeting up with the SHIM bus, I was finally with some of the team heading to the Entebbe to pick up Andy and Keeky, along with their son David. They arrived Sunday night after being gone for 4 or so months. This is at 11am Monday. We reach Entebbe at around noon. Then we head off to pick up Shannon, this amazingly strong and courageous 16 year old from Oregon who knows team members from back home. Shannon will be here for two months, she has volunteered at the local orphanage and is now joining the SHIM team after her friends had left. (Her friends stayed for about 2 weeks). The ride to Jinja from Kampala is roughly an hour and a half. We stop for some fast food at Mr. Tasty, a little hamburger/chicken joint at Lugogo shopping plaza. For 6,500 shillings for a burger, chips (fries), and a soda, it wasn’t bad.

We did not arrive to the Jinja office until almost 6pm. The traffic was horrible. An hour and half drive lasting more than twice the normal drive. We did have some great conversations, but with no air conditioning and a cool breeze only occurs when the vehicle is moving, you can imagine how hot it was. David, who is 8 months, was a very good sport. I have never met such a patient, perfect, calm, go with the flow baby.

That night, Ruth, Shannon, and I were tried of sitting, so we went on a walk around Jinja. Ruth was very generous and bought us ice cream from the local coffee and internet shop: The Source. I had the most amazing ice cream, covered in white chocolate with strawberry chucks and shortcake pieces in it. I am not ashamed to admit that when chocolate broke off and fell to the ground, I picked it up and ate it. I am not wasting precious chocolate. So far, I have not gotten sick.

Jinga is the city where the SHIM office is located. It is also the city where one would catch a boat to head to the Buvuma Islands. The front part of the house is the office, with two desks, computer, and shelves. This is also where we eat, work, and have meetings. So there is large kitchen table, a couch, and another small chair. In the back of the house there are two bedrooms, a bathroom, and the kitchen. At the SHIM office there is something called Table Ministry. I have fallen in love with Table Ministry, “reaching people, connecting people to people with food.”

We are staying here until maybe Thursday. This allows time for Andy and Keeky to visit friends in Jinja, as well as for the staff to get together for progress reports, and new directions for current and new projects. This is perfect time for me to continue to build relationships with the staff, get to know Andy and Keeky, type of my journals for my practicum, read materials from Raising Voices, and adjust. Today Keeky and Andy are going to try to meet to discuss my work: what they need, what I need to do for my requirements, what is feasible, how long it will take, background information, etc. So getting on common ground, setting the next steps, and begin the “actual” work. However, these past two weeks have been work, just not work in the American sense.

Yesterday was a very quite, relaxed day for me and most of the staff. Today will be as well. As you will be able to tell I have had time to type and post. I figured that you guys needed an update and since I am journaling for my practicum and blogging, some might overlap. There will be some very long entries. I do what I can, when I can.

I did do laundry today. That was fun. I do not hand wash things at home, so to hand wash everything, without running water mind you, it’s a big change. I am becoming very appreciative of the stuff I have at home, and the moments here that may seem little but are small joyful blessings. On a non-work related note, a group of us might try to go see the Source of the Nile or the Bujagali Falls here in Jinja.

Tomorrow, Thursday, we should be heading off to the Islands!


Update about Mr. Lwanga: He could not meet with me when I was in Kampala . We are going to try to meet next time I am in the city, with hopefully a few days heads-up.

Update on the Dobson Volunteer Service Program: I am still waiting to hear about my application. The Dobson program provides funding for students and faculty for their volunteer service projects. They will fund up to half of your trip in exchange for ten lectures about your projects with certain requirements on what to include. My application was to be reviewed earlier but they have decided to wait to review it with the other applications. Since I will not be in town when the Board meets, they have requested an update of my project with possible pictures. Keep your fingers crossed. Not only would the money be more than helpful (I am funding this trip, paying out of state tuition, and wanting to try to fund this myself since my family and friends have already given me so much in the past, that their support and encouragement was more than I needed this time) I enjoyed sharing my Peace Corps experience with people that I want this opportunity again to share my experience and hopefully inspire other people.
Part of any experience is to share it...Maybe that’s why my blog posts are so long.

15 Day Personal Reflection

I cannot believe I have been away from home for 15 days. At moments it seems so much shorter than that but the emotional side it seems so much longer. (Emotional side meaning home sick, missing love ones, adjusting, learning the ways, making new friends, finding new “comforts” and letting go of my normal routine and comforts.)
My total trip is about 65 days; 50 more days to go seems like a lifetime. Well not that extreme but a long time compared to two months in the States. Everyday things gets easier and more enjoyable, like my second nature. Before you know it, I will be on the plane home. Then I will be thinking the opposite, where did the time go, I just got here!

As many of you know, I am very hard on myself, always thinking what else do I need to get done, to cross of my never ending to-do list. I am learning, to give myself credit on what I HAVE accomplished and not worry about what I have not or how much more I have left to do. This new mindset is helping me become less of a stress ball and more relaxed. In my perfectionist ways, I am learning that failure is NOT taking the first step. It’s the NOT trying that is failure. My grandfather used to say, “If it was easy, everyone would do it.”

Thank you everyone for your support, encouragement, and prayers.
Feel free to email me at Buell.Katherine@gmail.com. I will try to respond when I can, but know that it is nice to receive emails, to keep that little connection with friends and family.

Something I read on a card Ruth received that I am marinating on:

Contentment: "When you think of yesterday with pride and tomorrow with hope, you can live peacefully with today."

Time in the Big City- Kampala

If you are interested, this is how I experienced the Uganda culture in Kampala. It's hard to capture the experiences in words. It's one of those things that you HAVE to do it yourself. The full experiences are the smells, the noises, the thoughts and emotions, how hot is was that day, the interactions with the people, everything. I do not think that video recording would help. Although I am determined to video tape a boda-boda ride in the Kampala traffic.

Thursday 1/28

I was a little nervous not about finding Raising Voices, but finding my way back. The major roads in Kampala have street signs, I haven’t seen them but I know they are there. The other roads do not have street signs, so I assume directions are given by major landmarks and areas in Kampala. From the map of Kampala there are quite a few “suburbs”. I was fortunate enough to meet a young boda-boda man at the end of the street, Bonny, who was willing to drive me across the city, then also pick me back up whenever I called or texted. What a blessing. The stress, anxiety, worry, etc of trying to figure out how to get back was gone. Bonny was my Knight in Shinning Armor!

Raising Voices gave me an enormous amount of material- posters, pamphlets, training materials, programs, and research papers. I am excited to show the team when we return to the Islands. I have my reading cut out for me these next few days.

I always seem to meet the most interesting people when I am waiting. This man, Sharif, sounds like my Niger name Charifa but without the “a”. Anyhow, we started chatting and loves Obama, wants to know why I am not married, asks me why I can’t have a boyfriend in the states and a husband here, he tells me about his wife, and is shocked that I only have a brother while he has six children and his wife is pregnant again. It was an interesting, quickly changing topics, short conversation.

Leicia was kind enough to invite me out to dinner with her home-school mom’s group- mom’s date night out. We went to a place called The Lawn. One could sit on the lawn in huge chairs or in the covered outside restaurant area. We chose the restaurant area because it had an actual table. Dinner was fabulous; I had a vegetable pasta in a white sauce, of course. It’s still weird to me that water cost money, somewhere between 1,000 to 1,500 shillings, not even a dollar. So from what I have seen, instead of paying for water people will order soda because it’s the same price or just a tad more. Public Health issue? Can be. I do not think that obesity is a major concern in this country, at least not among the locals. But I have decided that Uganda does not have calories.

Friday 1/29

On a practicum note: I am hearing stories about sexual violence in Kampala with girls riding on boda-boda’s. However, the stories I have heard, happen in the evening or late at night. My personal safety awareness has extremely heightened, and I am only traveling in the day. But I assume that with the topic at hand, I will be affected some what emotionally.

Today I spent the day at American Club reading the material from Raising Voices. Wow. So many ways to take this practicum. I have a small feelings that my actual practicum contract goals may change or alter slightly. That’s Africa, and that’s life! As public heath people we must be flexible. I know I will be continuing to enhance my adaptability/flexibility skills.

Saturday 1/30

Saturday = Shopping day! I went to a craft fair to experience the culture, see parts of Kampala, buy some gifts, and just enjoy a lovely 80 degree weather day. I did a funny tan line from riding on the boda-boda with Bonny. He was actually nice enough to stop at the little stores on the side of the road so I could try to bargain for a new skirt and shirt. Well not new but new to me. What crazy prices they were trying to give me a because I am a Mzungu. (white person, actually means English in Luganda from what I‘ve been told)
While at the craft fair I was very on-my-guard, probably a little to much. I would not go into this man store because it was in a little corner part of the market where you had to walk a few steps in best describe as a hallway built by the walls of surrounding stores. The man was sitting under a tree, saw me walk by, him and his three males friends got up trying to get me to look at fabric in his store. I was polite and went as far as I was comfortable, which wasn’t very far, and made him bring the cloth to me. It’s horrible to think like this, to judge someone, however, in my defense, my safety is my first priority.
I have been thinking of what kind a gift to get Brent, and I didn’t have a clue. Buying a gift for your boyfriend is completely different than buying your dad, brother, and male friends presents. Now buying for my mom and female friends and family, that was fun! But Brent . . . I’m lost, nothing seem to fit what I was looking for, nothing really grabbed my attention. Then . . . I found it. It’s perfect, just the right touch of manliness, love, Uganda, with a twist of my taste/style. I cannot wait to give it to him, I would have probably already spoiled the surprise if I knew what it was called or how to describe it well enough to were I don’t have to end with, “Well you just have to see it.”

Vince and Leicia had a lovely date night at an Italian restaurant. I babysat, the least I could do for their hospitality, and made the kids the American classic dinner: mac n cheese and hotdogs! (with a side of carrots) The two younger kids, fully enjoyed it, as did I!!!


Sunday 1/31

I accompanied the family to church, I think the name was Kampala International Church. The pastor was very inactive with the members. We went outside to act out the passage, which the sermon was based upon. Luke 5:17, Jesus Heals a Paralytic.
After lunch with some friends at a restaurant that reminded all of us of an Applebees, or TGIFs the day was very relaxed, as Sundays should be. Oh, I had a steak that was covered in cheese and a creamy mushroom sauce with chips (fries).The steak was good, but the cheese I didn’t care for. I have learned very quickly that cheese here, has aged for quite some time before it is used.
While I was packing, I think I lost my jump drive that I started to use. Luckily, it wasn’t one of the nice ones Brent bought me for Christmas in my “Uganda Survival Kit” but one that he had received from a teachers’ convention seminar thing that I took and cleared off. Another luckily, I had been writing my journals on paper in note form and just began to type them, so I only lost a few. I think I still have the notes. The only downfall, was that I was not able to upload photos this past week.


Monday 2/1

A SPECIAL THANK YOU!!!

After almost a week of being spoiled by good food, hot running water, a/c, electricity, a comfy bed, and new friends it was time to say goodbye and head back to the Islands. Many thanks and a special place in my heart for the Golembeski family.

The Golembeski family: Vince and Leicia and their beautiful children: Matt, Carter, Josh, and Bailey. I cannot say thank you enough for hosting me for the few days, and then even more when my second connection fell through (a young American lawyer in the city, I met her parents in the visa line at the airport). The Golembeski’s made me feel apart of their family, it was like being at home. When you are thousands of miles away from the ones you love, with limited communication, away from everything that you know, finding the feeling of “home” is a blessing. You guys are forever on the Christmas card list!

Dr. Sean Norman, thank you so much for connecting me with your old friends from college. What would we do without Facebook? And I heard some stories . . . Haha just kidding.

Would Be a Katie Story

Would only happen to Katie type of stories:
A collection of mini stories that if I was in the States I would call or text you so we could share a laugh. I thought this might be a fun way to sum up some of my days and/or experiences. Some are out loud funny and some are just embarrasing.

Here we go. . . Happy reading.

>Ruth and I were told that a public boat left the islands at 9am. When we finished breakfast, realizing it was 8:40am, with the last touches of packing, and getting ready, plus walking to the village, we figured we still had plenty of time. We were on “African” time. Well not so much. Dan, Mamma and Pappa O’s grandson ran ahead to tell them to wait. He was maybe a minute or two ahead of us. We made it to the boat at 9:15am, it had already left! Surprisingly, they actually came back for us. They were not that far away, maybe just pulled away from what we would a dock. Luckily, Ruth and I are not fluent in Luganda because we might have understood what the mean, annoyed looks of peoples’ faces actually meant.


This one if for Dr. Brenner and the Epidemiology of Infectious Disease class. Who knew I would retain the information I did about the diseases I came in contact with, that I had no prior interest in, I would be super excited, and I get no response. The team must think I am the biggest nerd, like a walking textbook. No one wants to be known as the walking textbook, they‘re boring. Personally, I’m okay with that. :p
In one of the villages on the island there is a health clinic in the YWAM (Youth With A Mission) compound/property. Ruth and I are sitting in the YWAM compound talking to some friends, meanwhile this couple comes in carrying a sick baby who sits next to me waiting for the health clinic to open. In the short conversation I had with them, the child who is less than one, maybe 7 months of age, has a fever, a cough, was covered in this bumpy looking rash on its face and down it’s chest, and has not been vaccinated. I am not an expert, or any kind of medical professional, but I remembered a picture of baby with a similar rash and it was measles. Again, if so, a public health issue. After taking Dr. Brenner’s class my mind is turning quite quickly about modes of transmission, incubation periods, etc. I politely bring my thoughts to the pastor we were sitting with, well more asking him questions about if they will test for measles, questions about the clinic, and who is in charge of a clinic etc. From what I understood, the man who works the clinic does not have a medical education/degree but might have some kind of training. He diagnosed the child with a cough and sent him home. I am curious to find out about the child when I return to the village.

>I knew from my time in Niger, that when you travel on a “bus” you want the single window seat. Normally in these buses, there is about 7 rows of single seats next to a window, a seat that fits 2 or so people on the by the other window, then the dreaded folded middle seat in the aisle. When anyone next to you or behind you, needs to get off, you have to get up, fold your seat, move your stuff, move yourself out of the way, then the vise versa to sit back down. This happens often. When traveling from Jinja to Kampala on Wednesday, the time I made it to the bus, all the window seats were taken. Using my “southern charm” I talked a man into giving me his single window seat. I was, in a way, proud of myself, some anxiety had left, and I could enjoy the almost 2 hour ride and not care about the many many stops. Well it turns out, the man I charmed out of his seat, worked on the bus, he collected money from people and called out the stops. WOW. Talk about feeling like a goober.


I have a cell phone charger, and two battery/solar chargers. Did I bring them to Jinja. Yes. DLING_ERROR_9">id I bring them to Kampala, no. By Saturday my phone was barley hanging on. The family I was staying with did not have a Nokia phone. Out of luck, no, there is always a way. I went outside to their guard station. Working for the embassy, they are provided 24hour guard security. The night guard did not have a phone charger for my phone, but his friend did. He said that he would give it to the morning guard, fully charged. I handed it over, sounded good to me. Then my “American mind” set in, what did I just do! I thought of the worst things that could happen: the phone comes back with no money on it, my sim card is m_11">issing, the phone is broken, the phone comes back but is not charged or the phone does not come back. I am not sure how things work in Uganda, or how things get done, but somehow, sometimes, they do. I don’t need to understand everything, I just need to appreciate when things work out well. My phone came back in the morning before church fully charged and properly working.


I somehow picked up my own boda-boda man, well young man, when I was in Kampala. Talk about a blessing. Bonny, my blessing. I could call him, he would come get me from the family’s home, take me where I needed to go, when I was ready I would call him, he would get me, and drop me off. There is no way I could even give directions, let alone an address, to a boda-boda that I picked up when I needed a ride back. We even went shopping together when I was looking for a new-used skirt. I tried to hurry, because I know how Brent feels when he shops with me so I didn’t want to be rude or have him jack up the price of the ride.


On one of the rides with Bonny, he starts asking me about pregnancy, seriously as we are driving down the road going pretty fast. Asking me how soon can you tell if a 17 year old is pregnant, that his girlfriend might be pregnant, and he is really scared. I’m thinking, stop turning around to talk to me, you’re driving! We chatted when we came to a proper stopping place. Bonny was quite knowledge, more than I had expected; he knew about periods, pregnancy tests, and this and that. The conversation, switch to condoms and birth control. I told him very firmly, “You remember this fear, and next time wear a condom. Men in American wear condoms. They are seen as respectful, mature, and loving men. They love their women. And they are faithful.” (the gist of it, there was more, some abstinence stuff too, I’m pretty wordy, but I do sum things up at the end.) I figured that he might not like condoms, or hear the myths or excuses men use, but from what I gather, America is the land of all, so if they are doing it, I want to do it etc. I found out Monday, that his girlfriend went to the clinic and is not pregnant. I’ll have to call him later to see if the test was true negative and ask him about our “talk.” But who would have thought, Bonny knew that I would be the Mzungu that would know about pregnancy and protection.


When shopping at the craft market on Saturday in Kampala, I received a discount on this dress I wanted because the seamstress thought I was pretty and she wanted me to marry her brother. Original price of Dress 40,000 shillings. I paid 30,000 shillings and free alterations.


Who knew that mechanical bull riding, from college nights at The Saloon with Jerilyn and Nicole, would beblsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">come boda-boda riding skills. My ass="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Boda-boda man, Bonny, complimenteass="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">d me> on my boda-boda riding, saying it was not Mzungu like. I took that as a good thing. Now whether or not he was trying to get a tip . . . Don’t knock down my skills.


I was tapped on the shoulder right, outside the meat section of the market, by a young man who puckered his lips wanting a kiss from me. I was so taken back and confused I’m sure I gave this horrified look and laughed.


Today I was talking with Chief, one of the SHIM staff members and I we could not understand each other. After a few “Huh?“ “What?“ we had a few laughs and he told me that I have an exotic accent. What?!?!?! My accent is not that southern, I may have a Texas twang every once and awhile and I might have a “Yankee” moment but not exotic. However, I will take the compliment. When my family or friends tell me, “I talk funny,” I can now proudly say, “It’s exotic.”

r>Oh the joys of bargaining when shopping. Stone statues, cannot give too much details they are surprise gifts for people. The sales man wanted 8,000 shillings for it. No. No. No. He started asking me, “Why aren’t you at a place for Mzungu’s.” I responded, “Because I am not a Mzungu, I stay on the Buvuma Islands.” By the end, I got 2 for 6,000 shillings and a free pair of earrings.


Another one if for Dr. Brenner and the Epidemiology of Infectious Disease class.
I am going to the bathroom at the office in Jinja, I look out the open window and I was so surprised I couldn’t let out a “girlie I see a spider cry.” Under the roof ledge on the next door neighbors house, maybe 4 feet away, is a line of 20 or so bats hanging upside down, napping. My first thought was rabies, Post-exposure Prophylaxis (PEP), shortage of rabies vaccinations in the States, Dr. Brenner’s midterm, different rabies cases I read in the MMWR, etc. I’m in the bathroom taking photos, video recording, and just watching intrigued by them since the only time I’ve seen a bat up close, not behind glass at a zoo, was in Niger when a bat was attached to my mosquito net while I was laying in bed. So I am talking about the limited knowledge I have about bats and the public health issue to anyone who comes in hearing distance, as well as, being the dork I am being fascinated by these creatures, while everyone in the office said, “Oh yeah, bats. Okay.”


Fun fact from Buz: The origin of the word boda-boda was taker from the idea that you could go from border to border with the a motor bike, hence boda boda (if you listen carefully, they pronounce it bodah bodah).
I've been listening, and it's true.

Hair Experiment: No I am not shaving it, mom and dad. I brought with me a two in one shampoo and conditioner. My hair is not adapting as well to Uganda or to this two-in-one shampoo. Instead of buying conditioner for 7,000 shillings, my hair is not that important I just want the curls somewhat manageable, I bought some Hair Food to put in my hair, even though it is not meant for “white people hair“. No joke it’s called Hair Food. So my hair is drying now, and I am hoping it does not look greasy or just plain gross but it smells good!!!