Culture Shock - Uncensored

The following is a silly story designed for the eMi East Africa website, the culture shock section. It was supposed to inform future interns and volunteers about some things they might find frustrating in Uganda. The final published version is significantly cut, much more tame, and even includes a disclaimer. Lousy editors. But, I decided to preserve this story here. Remember, this is written to someone who is about to go to Uganda to serve at eMi for a period of their life. The story is a collection of true stories people here have experienced put into a narrative about someone who just arrived in Uganda. In other words, it's real. Here it is: Culture Shock You read every millimeter of this website along with the Ugandan culture book, you have an encyclopedic knowledge of Museveni’s presidency; you volunteered for several invisible children screenings at your university, you even sought out 13 Ugandan’s in your town and had dinner with them. You were ready for Uganda, or so you thought. In the dead of night your flight is about to land and you look out the window to see Africa up close for the first time, and you are surprised to see nothing at all. Blackness, along with about two or three cars. Then you land and look out the window and see that the strobe light on the tip of your plane’s wing has attracted a swarm of large insects equal in number to the population of Wyoming. You get off the plane, get your luggage and exit the airport terminal. The first thing to catch your eye is a mass of chickens tied to a small van. Then you learn that this van is how you and 13 other passengers plus luggage are getting to Kampala. You have never been so squished in a car in your life, you wonder if anyone’s legs can fit in these seats and the lady nursing next to you isn’t helping anything. You almost gag when you notice she’s nursing twins. Then there is what’s going on outside the car. Aside from the awkwardness of driving on the left side of the road and no street lights, the driver seems to be in a rush. He is constantly honking at people while passing and swerving into oncoming traffic. At the same time there are Boda Boda’s (small motorcycles) everywhere, who appear to be allowed to drive anywhere there is space for them to fit. One of them was even carrying 13 foam mattresses (yes, you counted). Another had a row of chickens tied to the handle bars, with a rooster hanging near the center. If it tilted it’s head, just a little bit, it’s life would be cut short by the front wheel. The bus finally stops where you see what seems like 300 other buses that are crammed as tightly as possible in a parking lot. High density seems to be a theme in Uganda. While you are carrying your luggage you were instructed to keep shouting “Kiwafu” over and over again to find the bus that takes you to meet the eMi missionaries. You keep shouting it and everyone looks at you as though you are crazy, finally one person looks you and says “Oh CHEEwafu.” You are curious why the website misspelled such an important word. After another crammed taxi ride, you arrive home and are surprised to see that your new neighbor, an 11 year old boy, is completely naked. He doesn’t seem to mind though, he stops using his porch as a slip and slide for a moment and turns toward you and to your horror says “Hi my name is Joseph.” Awkwardly you state your own name and he looks at you curiously and then asks your name again. After repeating your name several times he finally realizes that the word you are speaking must be your name, and repeats it with a confused tone. After your shower at 7 degrees Celsius (that’s Ugandan for very very cold) you lie down in bed at last. Before you are rested the roosters start crowing, and continue to for the remaining four hours of night. Then you wake up and realize you left your razor back home. That’s ok, they will surely have something acceptable at the grocery store. Once you acquire some schillings, you head to the grocery store and ask for a razor, you are told to go to a different grocery store. This occurs at least eight more times before you finally conclude that you will have to email Mom back home and request your first care package. You find an internet cafe and learn that slow internet connection refers to something quite different back home. After 13 minutes of loading, you finally get to the page that allows you to type your message. You type out an email explaining that you are safely in Uganda and requests a razor. You press send. The next page that pops up is, alas, the error page. You click back and then type the entire thing out again, press send and by then your email service has timed out. You have now experienced culture shock. Your preparations are futile. You will experience this while you are in Uganda. The question now is… How will you react?