Risky Business

This past week and a half has been another quiet week at TASO. Friday provided the most excitement as I interacted with patients the whole day. I was stationed in the doctor’s office, where patients came with forms identifying the specific tests needing to be done on them. I spent the whole day pricking and squeezing ring fingers for small droplets of blood for malaria strips and sticking needles into clients’ arms for blood samples. I must say that my technique has drastically improved and I did not need to be relieved of duty. As promised, here is a picture! 

Taking a blood sample for CD4 analysis

I am happy that I was able to help out more efficiently than last time. There was only one other hired staff and me working to attend to 50 patients. I collected the samples while my colleague ran the tests on them. We worked efficiently and were able to call it a day at 4:30, but if one of us hadn’t been there, the workload easily could have dragged on for another two hours. And in a few weeks, my colleague may have to stay that late if someone doesn’t fill my shoes.

The weekend was pretty relaxing, as I hung around town. A big fair came to Jinja at the beginning of last week. The event is known as, “The Source of the Nile National Agriculture and Trade Fair” also known as the “Shop.” The shop is nationally and internationally accredited; Yoweri Museveni usually attends one of the days. Vendors from Kenya, Rwanda, Tanzania, and of course Uganda, came to campout and sell their crafts, agricultural products, and even farm animals. People from all around Uganda and surrounding countries make the journey to Jinja to peruse and buy anything striking their fancy. The Shop is literally open 24/7; it doesn’t close at night, only at the end of the week. I visited various craft stores with my host mother who was helping me decipher the authentic items from the cheap. Some vendors were sneaky and claimed to be from certain cities, even though their products indicated otherwise; the quality or make/design of the product gave clues as to the product’s origins and could not fool a local Ugandan, but only white people like me. Most items did not have fixed prices, so people bargained to come to a deal. I had been warned that vendors give white people “muzungo prices”; they jack up their initial offer by 100-150% when a white person is buying something, as they think they can get more money out of them. Once again, my host mother came to the rescue and helped negotiate some reasonable prices for authentic Kenyan crafts.

The Shop reminded me of a local fair back home, except it was more crowded and dusty. It took about two hours to walk around the entire campus, talking to different vendors about their products and stopping to admire agricultural products or animals. A small zoo-like section was set up on the edge of the fair, and displayed a leopard, lion, python, ostrich and a Crested crane, the national bird. But the animals that stood out the most were the 8ft long, 1500 pound boars sprawled out in their pens. I had never seen one so big before, and there were 6 of them! I didn’t even know boars could grow to that size in real life. I immediately equated these boars to the large devilish boar in Princess Mononoke; except these boars looked like they could hardly hold themselves up to walk. It was truly a sight that highlighted a fun and cultural morning.

The past weekend was the finals of the World Cup, and Ugandans could not have been more excited. In preparation for the games, news stations were constantly broad-casting stories about sports bars ramping up security and warning viewers to remain safe if they choose to watch the games in public. These frequent and rather excessive warnings were prompted by the 2010 World Cup Finals. The Ugandan 9/11 is only 2 digits too much; “7/11” as most Ugandans call it, refers to a bombing of a sports bar during the Spain vs Netherlands finale. 76 soccer patrons were killed and many more were injured. The attack was traced back to al-Shabaab, a faction of al-Qaeda located predominantly in Eastern Africa, and those directly responsible were caught. al-Shabaab has terrorized Eastern Africa, especially the coast of Kenya, in recent months; there have also been threats of attacks in Uganda. Just within the past week, the international airport in Entebbe (my way home) was threatened to be bombed. Additionally, my host mother informed me that four al-Shabaab members were caught trying to sneak into the Shop, trying to enter with bombs attached to themselves (they were apprehended before they could enter). As the games drew closer, a lot of Ugandans reminisced about that horrible day and their contempt towards the faction; most people remember exactly what they were doing when they heard about the bombing, signifying how much of an impact the event had on them.

In 3^rd grade, I had just been let out from school on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, when I was surprised to see my mom picking me up. The immediate excitement turned to confusion once she told me the Twin Towers had gone down. There is a look out point, Washington Rock, in my old town where it is possible to see the New York Skyline. My dad, brother and I tried to drive there to see the city, but it was too crowded to find parking. We were forced to the confines of our TV, where news stations replayed the planes crashing, the towers falling, and small flecks of people jumping to their deaths. At the time, I was scared and upset. I didn’t understand why there could be so much hatred by a group of people towards another. How could someone want to kill or be happy that 3000 people had died in one day, and hundreds more were injured? Even today, I still don’t understand. I could empathize with the Ugandans about the sorrow they felt, but a small part of me was pissed off. Any bombing resulting in the death of a group of people is horrible. But I have a hard time comparing the events when viewing them from a numbers perspective. The bombing in Kampala four years ago resulted in the deaths of less than a 100 people and a wrecked sports bar. 9/11 resulted in the death of 30 times the number of citizens and the destruction and damage of businesses and federal buildings. Both events are terrible, but I have a hard time accepting the way Ugandans feel about their 7/11, when they haven’t experienced the full wrath of al-Qaeda. They make it out to be the worst thing that has ever happened. I’m not saying they should feel any different, or that someone should exhibit a certain level of sadness or mourning depending on the number of deaths in an incident. Maybe it’s my American pride coming out, but Ugandans haven’t faced the level of terror and sorrow in their 7/11 as Americans did during 9/11. The events are comparable, but I believe they are so different. Fortunately, no major attacks occurred this past weekend, so everyone was able to enjoy the Dutch and German victories.

I would like to write another post soon about information on Busoga culture and information about Ugandan healthcare and the distribution of medicine at the end of this week, but it may be posted in the middle of next week, pending delays. Until then, stay safe.