Imminent

I’m writing this whilst sat in the Business section of Mbale Barclays Bank (so this may go on like the last one I wrote whilst waiting), pondering the varied meanings of the word imminent here in Uganda. The past week has offered a few examples of the word taking imaginative meanings, not typically associated (except in antagonism) with telling someone something will be ready soon.

Before any whinging begins, the most exciting imminence is that of my suit! That’s right, I’ve gone crazy and ordered a Ugandan suit complete with purple lining and purple pockets for the trousers (the tailor told me a purple fly was too far). Admittedly, there have been several issues along the way. The best was when the tailor decided to make it a three-button suit despite agreeing several times that it would have two. I pulled a sad face and it ended up being used to fill another order he had for three suits for a wedding. They might not know it yet, they’re now also having purple linings… chuckle. Despite this and one or two other things, Jude the tailor is fabulous at keeping time; he says Monday, he means Monday.

Wednesday had several people who’d pushed the definition of ‘soon’ a little too far including one corporation who had an outstanding bill from December. When inflation is at 26%, outstanding balances start to matter a bit more. Anyway, I cracked out my ‘I’m not smiling any more’ face a few times. The highlight of the day came when I finally chatted with the boss-lady responsible for the delay in the evening. When I complained that we were suffering due to the delay, she countered that they were suffering too from the damaged relationship. The approach was more draining than I expected it to be but has proved to be highly successful. Today I received the large cheque from the boss-lady and also the missing cash involved in another incident; seems a displeased mzungu (who knows where to find you) is not something people like so much.

Returning to Barclays (as I have countless times now), dear Vincent who I do like really (I’m still haven’t started not smiling at him yet) is starting to take the mic in terms of how many times the accounts we’ve been waiting on for at least a month now can be ‘ready later in the day’. Unfortunately, aside from guilt tripping, I’ve got little leverage to use so I’ve decided to call him every day the accounts aren’t ready, partially to enjoy being told ‘they’ll be finished this afternoon’, partially in an attempt to convey that the delay is now a bit inconvenient. From this experience, I can’t wait to see how long it’s going to take to close the account being replaced at Stanbic, an account that we first resolved to shut in November 2007, no jokes.

Dry run

In my enthusiasm to link my present location with the wider week, I neglected to mention Tuesday! I donned the Orange to finish the grouting (with 5 fingers to spare) and polishing and finished pretty early in the afternoon. This was despite a break to take the Cruiser into the village so someone could pick up some lunch stuff. The reaction to a mzungu in paint clothes was good in Mbale but it was a whole new level in the village. In Bukaweka, you can usually guarantee being stared at, even when smartly dressed, but the Orange was gulped down by the market crowd, golden times.

Village market

[Still waiting for Vincent to talk to me after telling me to be here at 4, now 4:36]

As I’d finished early and there were fewer patients this week, we got back to Mbale pretty early and I decided to pop back to the Dr’s house to drop off the tiling tools. Here, I discovered that the Rev was killing a chicken for his UK visitor and thus I obviously committed the rest of the afternoon to this rooster. Several times before, this rooster has gotten a little carried away in its crowing and I’ve jokingly threatened it (in a half-awake mutter) with death, seems I should be more careful what I say. After kind of helping to corner and catch the rooster (it got past me the first time so I was relegated to corralling) I was handed the bird and a knife and told how to carry out the plan. All I’ll say is that it didn’t go entirely to plan, that I’ve now got drops of chicken blood on my shoes (next to the other blood from the accident) and trousers and that not all of the fault is mine. After decapitation came plucking which is much easier than I’d always thought and then finally dissection. Once we’d taken off the head, feet and feathers, it looked so much like a store bought chicken that I forgot all about the innards. Anyway, I’m now fully trained (ish) in processing a chicken, and I can still look at a chicken (on a plate, in a garden or wandering down the street) without too much guilt.

So long Mr Rooster

We’ve had two American visitors at the BJH this week which has been nice but also busy. It started in a complicated way with trying to clear their room of excess beds (there had previously been 4 beds but these guys only wanted one each). Unfortunately, one bed would not fit through the doorway. Now, I know what you’re thinking, if it went in, it must come out. No. That’s what they said, but it’s not true. Every angle, height and twist was attempted (and can be traced from the missing paint on the door). I left as I had to go into town quickly to sort something (enigmatic, I know!) and was delighted to discover on return that they’d just sawn the offending knobs off the tops of the bedposts. Visitors have meant good food. Tiff and then Ali cooked up some delightful mzungu food (including lemon meringue pie and apple crumble). In turn, Dan and I cracked out some top-drawer dishes on Saturday and Sunday.

[Apparently it’s coming; we’ll see].

Also imminent is the return of the Dr (unfortunately not that Dr; Dr Who is top of the list of TV shows I’m catching up on ASAP on return to the UK) who arrives in less than 14 hours! I’ve gotten strangely used to life at work and home without her but it’ll be nice to return to the original routines. Work will probably be more busy but less stressful as there will be fewer decisions for me to make but more for me to follow through on. Home wise, it’s been really nice to stay at BJH (and I’m sure I’ll make a copious amount of trips over there) as cooking and general lounging with Dan (and the ladies who seem to be unable to stop coming round) has been quality. Still, moving back will be nice to see Joash, Joshua, David, Shad and the Rev and Aunt Dinah. Plus, apparently Aunt Grace has missed my noisy entrances to the house every evening (it seems not everyone shouts ‘I’m back’ when they come in from work?)

Shortly after she returns, I intend to run off on a week’s trip to somewhere in Uganda. This is partially cause I’m feeling a bit tired (I’ve got a cold in a country that’s on the equator) and partially cause I’m not sure it’s safe to work for more than four months without a holiday (I mean, what is this full time work thing!). Not quite sure where I’m gonna go as there are several locations pencilled in for trips later with people, but wherever it is, it’ll be a week with no spreadsheets involved.

Generally, I’m good. Interesting this week was visiting the cook at the village who was ill. Seeing her living in the same conditions I’d seen before was very different. Experiencing, even for a few minutes, how poor someone I worked and joked with was new. Also powerful has been chatting with one of the American visitors about Father’s heart for the kids here. I think that I’d found it too feasible to process lots of the issues here on the level of nationalities and what people can expect from each other (like Political Theory taught me to). Thinking about God’s love and grace for these people should lead to an emotional as well as physical response to the disasters that have befallen lots of people’s lives here.

[Finally left at 6:08 but with the new accounts! Amazing! I mean, one of them may have the wrong name despite the form and the minutes having the correct name on it but still! We have the accounts! What a day! I’ve got cheques, cash, opened two accounts and done interviews and recruited someone. Hello Monday.]