Uganda be kidding A detailed account of my experiences and travels through the thicket of malaria education and else.

June 24, 2007: Today is a slow day. I had much more than usual to drink last night, Alden and I shared a bottle of Shiraz he brought us, and then i had a rather dangerous Nile Special beer. Alden showed up Friday, a friend of a friend, and came with us on the malaria education sessions. He is working in Burundi, building a health clinic on a plateau overlooking Lake Tanganika. He was an outward bound kayaking paramedic, and studied architecture at Wesslyan, so his work overseeing this rural health clinic is a good fit. He also brought me some episodes of The Office (American version) which I had never seen and am very grateful to have. There were 3 overland trucks here last night, and one with a birthday party, requiring these overlanders to wear absurd fancy dresses and nighties from a bygone era. Where these outfits came from is unknown. Perhaps the truck carries a trunk of ridiculous, brightly colored costumes for just such an occasion. And then the funnel came out. The funnel beer bong, that only comes out on special nights of debauchery. Last night was one such special night, and this crew of Aussie overlanders, dutifully dosed themselves with the funnel, to cheers and hoots and hollars from their fellow passengers in ill-fitting negliges and retro dresses. This kind of spectacle offers a very interesting opportunity into observation. There is a science to the funnel beer bong, I realized, watching Jack, the barman, pour a bottle of beer into it, followed by an unmeasured amount of waragi (Ugandan gin). He then stirs the brew with his hand, mixing all the poisons together, holding the tube end closed by clasping his palm around the mouth. The beer foam travels up and down the tube, as he raises and lowers his arm, again mixing everything together, while decreasing the foam factor. And then it is ready. I watched about 20 people kneel down, on the bug-infested sandy ground, for their go at the funnel. A ritual of phony comraderie and nasty hangovers. These truckers travel for months on these rides, which is basically a pub crawl/un-safe sex romp through Africa. Going from one mzungu bar to the next, and their interaction with the locals is limited to waves from the truck or little kids asking them for money or something to eat. They see the bars of Africa and the expats that live at these bars. It is a different side of things to be sure. And as far as the group of people on these trucks, its a bit of a crap shoot. It's totally random if you will enjoy or despise each other. So far, I've seen both sides of that coin. Today I am doing a malaria education session and net sale. Since Jessie left on Friday, I have been and will be doing the sessions. I have never been one to enjoy standing in front of people, presenting something to them. In 9th grade, our history class had everyone playing a famous person, presenting what that person accomplished and why or how. I was to play Virgil. I remember talking to my teacher Daniel Sparler about how i could not present alone, and could my friend Cass be someone Virgil knew or something and present with me. He agreed but I was still terrified of doing it. Now, over a decade later, I have no choice but to do it and as my friend Mai said, Don't worry because most of the people i am talking to can't speak english anyway, so what the hell. Well, that seemed to help and I am far less nervous than I was in 9th grade. In fact, its rather fun. I introduce the "Soft Power Health Team" and say we are here to give an education session about malaria and then have a net sale afterwards, and everything is translated. Its the questions I have a hard time with. Since i am not a doctor or med student and am learning about Malaria as i go, i don't have all the answers. But i try. I will always try. Yesterday I cleaned up the banda, since this is my home for a while, and tried to make things tidy and organized. It's getting there. I am considering getting a few homey items, like a tea kettle that i can plug in and make myself tea in the morning, and even a few glasses, maybe a chair. Have a little hangout spot when I want to escape the bar. The only hard bit is how transient everything and everyone here is. I meet people everyday and cool people often, and then they are gone. I sometimes wonder when or if some of these people, who i swap contacts with, i will see again, realistically. like those overland trucks, it's a crapshoot.