Currently, I am on a plane to Senegal. Yeah yeah yeah, I’m stoked to be going to West Africa, even if it is for work, but traveling just brings the bitching out of me. I need someone to travel with so I can bitch and complain to them. I’m contemplating hiring a travel buddy just so I can bitch to someone about the absurdities of travelling. Bitching in my head is not satisfying, and ends up just firing me up. This is why I decided to write my latest blog entry on the plane; this way I can vent through my blog. I mean sure, this way I get no feedback on the legitimacy of my complaints, and I can’t reciprocate my feelings to my fellow travel companion who would definitely be bitching too (it’s inevitable), but it might be good therapy. Ok here we go…It won’t be too bad. Firstly, I would like to focus on the overall logistics of my journey. I had to leave my hotel at 2 a.m. in order to have enough time to drive the hour to the airport and make my way through the egregious, yet probably justifiable, airport security to make my 5 a.m. flight to Kenya. For those geographically inclined, you should see a problem with this. Yep, starting in Uganda, Kenya is in the opposite direction of Senegal; an hour in the wrong direction. But hey, can I really bitch when it’s completely paid for, and I’m getting paid to make the flight? (eventually I won’t find work travel that amusing) Anyway, when I got to the airport in Uganda, at 3 a.m., I headed straight for the coffee shop. I procured a grande cup of coffee, and a tub of strawberry yoghurt (notice I used tub not cup!). Because I barely get any calcium from the food I have access to in Uganda, I have been hitting the yoghurt hard to make up for the lack of it. I hammered the coffee and yoghurt in no time, and eventually got on the plane. During the flight, they served this delicious plain yoghurt for breakfast, and I hammered it too. You getting the point!? By the time I arrived in Kenya my stomach was punching itself in the face. Damn that delicious yoghurt!! Secondly, I really love how people get incredibly antsy to board the plane. On both the flights that I have boarded today I have had to take a bus to the airplane on the tarmac in order to board it. The majority of people push and shove their way to get in front of anyone they can in order to board the plane faster. It is really f’ing annoying! The plane will not leave you on the tarmac of the airport. What, the pilot is just going to say “oh that guy is walking too slowly and, well, he might smell like rotten cabbage so let’s close the doors on him and taxi out”. It won’t happen, so what’s the hurry? Take it easy. No need to push and shove and create gridlock. Can’t wait to get pushed and shoved getting off this flight. Thirdly, there is this really big guy sitting in front of me who won’t stop moving. His movements are equitable to a small earthquake with its epicenter three inches from my face. He had his chair fully reclined before we even taxied to the runway. Come on guy! Have you ever flown on a plane… “Please put all treys in the closed position and make sure your seat is fully upright for takeoff.” That’s day one stuff buddy. Not to mention it feels like you’re giving birth in the chair as you convulse back and forth violently. He just leaned the chair forward a bit and then hammered it back on my laptop. This guy is out of control. I think we need to test etiquette before we let people fly. Anyway, on a lighter and much more comical note, there is this really sweet Chinaman, whoops sorry that’s not the proper nomenclature (for those who don’t know that is a Big Lebowski quote-I love that movie), Chinese gentleman sitting next to me. Before we even taxied to the runway, the Chinese dude was chin to chest making sounds as if he snorted his nose inside-out from his flagrant snoring. The little Senegalese kid across from him got frightened. He was stone-cold three minutes after sitting down. The flight attendants were still closing all the overhead compartments! Currently, he is snoring. Granite we just ate, so now is the perfect time for him to hit the hay. Poor guy, the Kenyan flight attendant couldn’t understand him, so he got the vegetarian quiche for lunch instead of the chicken. I could tell he was heartbroken. Well time to fight through people and head to customs…
I’m back on the plane now heading home to Uganda. I had a great time at the malaria boot camp. I’m genuinely sad to be leaving our group in Senegal. The material presented was great, but the group of people who attended just topped it all off. Man we had some good times geeking-out on malaria (malarias, d’accord). I love when you meet a great group of people who are as motivated and interested in a movement as you are, and to top it all off, they are amazingly awesome-Bismillah. Our group represented over 10 countries throughout Africa in which my colleague and I represented Uganda. We are now part of the Stomping Out Malaria in Africa team. Check out the website at stompoutmalaria.org. I will be developing the Uganda country profile with my colleague on the webpage soon. You can also follow us on Facebook and Twitter-stomp out malaria. We are all doing some great things in the malaria prevention field throughout Africa. One of our initial goals is to get the stomp out malaria initiative off the ground, and create awareness throughout the world. So hype the cause and spread the word!! Furthermore, I am excited for the laborious work I have ahead of me. I’ve already been taking home work on a daily basis, but now I’m sure I will be dreaming about it too. Oh well, all it means is I’m motivated, and have achieved master geek status.
Now to explain my local pork experience. After work one day a few local colleagues of mine invited me to the local “pork place”. I agreed to accompany them, and to see what it was all about. Wheels off!! We went to this sketchy bar, which is always pretty sweet, and headed to the back “patio” area. It was hardly a patio; it was more like a dirt area with a hut. Inside the hut hanging from meat hooks was a pig that had been cut in half. I thought that was awesome. Of course all the people in the bar and outside were curious as to why there was a mzungu (white man) in the bar, and let alone a mzungu ready to put down 3kg of pork with his local friends (that’s right we got 3kg). I had the pork guy cut off a portion of the pork shoulder with his machete. He proceeded to hack at it on this dilapidated bloody piece of wood, aka village cutting board. We took a few beers and waited for the lady to fry the pork shoulder up. The pork was amazing. My two colleagues and I put down 3kgs of pork in no time. It might have been the best pork feast ever. This is why you never turn down new cultural experiences. I mean sure, due to the sketchiness of the bar I won’t ever go there alone, but I will never turn down an opportunity to go back with them. I really enjoyed it, and to say the least, I represented for the mzungus. I like to think of it as cultural sensitization, one mzungu at a time.
