jaia ganesha

hindu temple, kampala

A day after getting back to Uganda, I went downtown to the fabric market with Sejal. During our downtown trip, Sejal spotted the birthday-cake spires of the Hindu temple, and begged for a visit. Sejal's own religion is Jainism, but she was eager to check out the temple, making comparisons with her Jain temple at home in Fort Lauderdale. I'd always been curious, my brush with Hinduism rooted in my yoga practice - and mostly in music and the strange connection I've felt with Ganesh since Justin brought back a little statue from his trip to Bali last year.

We slipped off our shoes and walked around the temple, admiring the ornate carvings and statues inside, and the lingering scent of incense. I asked about a shop (surprise, surprise), seeking a bigger Ganesh statue to add to my apartment. The priest directed us across the street to a building that faces Nakasero Market - the doors were shut tight, but there was a banner proclaiming "Hindu Religious Items."

In the weeks since that first trip, I swung by every time I emerged from the fabric market (during my daily vendor payment trips), and the doors were always shut - until last week, when I saw them flung open with all sorts of crazy Indian stuff pouring out. I ran up the steps, breathless, and came back cradling a big white Ganesh statue, with a lotus unfurling behind his head, and a very lopsided face (thanks to a poorly made plaster cast). The priest begged me to let him paint it, but one glance at the garish green and orange versions on the shelf behind him and I tucked a wad of shillings into his hands, thanked him profusely, and said I preferred the dusty white version.

Lucky for me, I brought Ganesh home just in time for Ganesh Utsav - the 11-day festival celebrating the deity's birth - it began yesterday. The priest offered to come to my house every day for pooja...but again I politely declined. I'm nowhere near a real Hindu anyway. I'm not even sure why the little Ganesh from Bali needed a big, pale twin... but yesterday, at the start of the festival, I lit some Nag Champa and put a bowl of flowers out in his honor. He's the Hindu God of Wisdom, after all, and who can't use a little more of that?

16 again

my new ride - the pajero - at the OMT compound in Gulu

"I'll drive! I'll drive!"
"You want me to come pick you up?"

After selling the Focus and committing to bike commuting last August, I never dreamed I'd own another vehicle, let alone fall in love with driving... a {gasp} diesel SUV. Sorry Earth, but I wouldn't do much good if I ended up another victim of the boda boda fate.

In June I bought a Pajero from my roommate's friend, assuming I could trust in a mzungu's car care enough. I was so busy before leaving that I didn't bother to have a mechanic check it out. I came back from my US holiday in July and a day later hopped in my new Pajero to drive up to Gulu - and shredded a tire on the way there...at which point I quickly realized that all four tires needed to be replaced. A few weeks and thousands of additional dollars in repairs later, I have a pretty reliable, rugged, diesel SUV that gets me everywhere I need to go.

And as for the driving-on-the-left (cake), traffic jams (not so bad), and obstacles (goat! chicken! woman with bananas on her head! man with a bicycle! twenty boda bodas riding my bumper! pothole!)... it's nothing. I learned by osmosis from all the other crazy drivers in this town. I hopped in the car and immediately became a part of the "flow" - if you can call it that.

The only time you find me on a boda boda these days is to go downtown to Nakivubo Mews to buy fabric/sponge/etc. It's too insane to get out of there - in one jaunt with Medi I ended up stuck on a street full of matatus for 1.5 hours. That's the point on the curve where risking your life on a boda boda actually sounds better than wasting another minute sucking matatu fumes and wondering if you'll ever get home.

All longish-term people in Uganda - I URGE you to get a vehicle. Just have a mechanic look at it before you buy it!

rainy season: my work

I've said it before - living and working in Uganda sometimes feels a bit bipolar. A self-fulfilling prophecy, the bipolarity reached extreme magnitudes this month.

Crest. Trough. Crest. Trough.

the pink palace - right before move-in

Perhaps the biggest crest of all was the opening of the new One Mango Tree workshop in Gulu. In one swoop we closed Unyama and Bobi locations and brought all the women together under one roof - Plot 9 Obiia Road, Gulu. The pink palace. One Mango Tree has an address, and it has a giant mango tree right outside the front gate. A compound manager, a guard, a cook, a guest house. All under the [invaluable] direction of Josh Engel and Hilary Dell - the One Mango Tree summer interns. With that huge move came big changes, and change is not always easy here. The personal and professional relationship with Lucy stretched and strained, as I sought to understand the reasons behind her choices; her decision to step aside as One Mango Tree achieves what she had dreamed. The smiles, laughs and gratitude of the other sixteen tailors shadowed by the confusion behind Lucy's refusal to take on a key role; the unhappiness that seems to grow proportionately with her successes.

Lucy in her shop, photo by Stephanie Makosky

But there are the other sixteen women, arriving early each day, picking soursop fruit from the tree out front, eagerly sweeping the production floor and settling in for a good day's work. The happy delivery of posho and cabbage cooked up by Mili while the morning hours pass. There is Prisca - eagerly taking on a management role at the workshop, commanding the ship with grace and ease. Crest.

Mili, dishing out posho and cabbage

Another crest was the visit from Stacey Edgar - the founder of Global Girlfriend. She arrived at an intense period of change for One Mango Tree; and provided a guiding voice for all of the difficult things I so needed to hear. We agreed on five apparel pieces to add to Global Girlfriend's best-selling organic cotton knit collection. We received our biggest order to date (this single order topping ALL of our orders combined from 2008), but it sent me packing to Kampala, a quick descent to the trough - to get the legal and financial pieces of One Mango Tree situated. NGO registration (constitution, bylaws, work plan, budget, LAWYERS...), export certificates, commercial invoices and GSPs...the export promotion board...a frantic (and still failing) search on how to take advantage of AGOA's duty-free policy on exports for our handbags. One million ush withdrawal limits at the ATMs, with 30 million ush due to the tailors and vendors. Daily trips to the ATM, hourly calls from vendors wanting their payments. Reserving a van to deliver materials and realizing it will take a lorry, not a van, to get all of the materials to Gulu. Realizing this after 500,000 ush is already sunk into the van rental.

Back and forth, up and down.

Cresting again - today I signed a contract with International Organization for Migration (IOM). We're receiving an in-kind grant through their USAID funding - 16 sewing machines and lots of fabric and liner to take on 10 referrals and provide them with work within the next six months.

I laugh, I cry, I scream, I slam my phone down after the fifth Sunday morning call from Joel the sponge guy asking for money ("Joel! we agreed on a payment schedule", "yes, madam but you know these African guys"). My chest gets all tight, I become convinced that I'm crazy, and then I chill out and breathe and start again.

rainy season: the weather

This morning, as I peered out the window at the now-familiar black clouds bunching in the distance, I realized that in all my trips to Uganda, I've never really experienced rainy season.

Each morning seems the same - clear and blue and even slightly hot, an otherwise beautiful dawn that now seems suspect and deceptive. I dress in my typical daily outfit - some random short-sleeved shirt, jeans and flops. And I hop into my Pajero and head to whatever meeting/coffee/internet/errand I have topping the list, turning on Fat Boy and Melanie for the Sanyu FM morning show.

I'm getting the point where I'm having a hard time remembering when the sky hasn't churned; the clouds materializing from sunshine, the heat magically evaporating, as if a vacuum is sucking the warmth from the air and turning it into gushing, weighty rivers pouring from the darkened and apocalyptic sky. It eventually fades to a light-ish gray, the green leaves freshly rinsed and the red earth churned into a sucking lurchy mess.

This week, as I drove from lunch near the US Embassy down to Lap Textiles, the rains began as I passed through the industrial area - which suddenly seemed totally abandoned - except for my lone SUV. To the right of the road I could see a sewer line exploding into the air, shooting waves of murky black water at least seven feet into the air, and then flooding the street, rushing across with a force that I imagine will sweep me away.

And then, as sudden as they came on, the rains will retreat, and a new day will dawn with another sunny, false optimism - as if no one suspects what's in store during the horrific afternoon lunch hour.

on ohio

Almost two months have passed since taking stock. Another cold trip in the big steel belly of KLM, a few weeks in Ohio with my family, a week in DC with friends, and back to Uganda again.

If I was writing while I was home, I would have told you all about Strongsville, the suburb where I grew up. I would have told you that I started each morning with a short drive to Starbucks, and how from there I proceeded to go to the mall. There wasn't much else to do. I would have shared my frustration at the bland emptiness of strip malls. The vaguely depressing feeling that sets in during the too-bright summer afternoon hours when there's nothing to do.

But then I would have told you about the evening spent with markers at a Little League game, dodging rain drops and drawing tattoos on Ella, my three-year-old god daughter (rainbows, ladybugs, a family of crabs, I LOVE USA, an American flag). Her first attempts at AcroYoga, and the warmth you feel when a little kid you love but rarely see starts to feel comfortable around you again. Voluntary hugs and kisses when you go home.

I would have told you about IngenuityFest, where my heart pounded viciously as I strutted down the runway in a super short yellow dress and a wide straw hat for the Revive Fair Trade Fashion Show. I would have told you my parents were near tears at the event and talked about it for weeks afterward.

I did get to see a different sort of Cleveland - the east side is still pretty vibrant, and with a wrong turn on the GPS, one day I ended up in a neighborhood that used to be home to the industrialists that once made Cleveland a beautiful city. I would have described the leafy and winding, yet broad streets; the houses reminiscent of English tudors.

I certainly would have told you about the day I took my dad to songwriter night at The Winchester in Lakewood. The small front room with little candles on the tables. The musicians pouring in to listen and cheer each other on. I couldn't possibly have described the look on my dad's face as his mind raced imagining himself up on the stage.

I took a trip to the Cleveland Museum of Art. Armed with my iPod and a playlist mostly in sanskrit, I walked around a new exhibit - Streams and Mountains Without End: Asian Art and the Legacy of Sherman Lee at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Outside the museum, I felt a world away from Strongsville. I would have described how taken aback I was at the shimmering silver surfaces of what had to be a Frank Gehry building.


On the weekends we took the drive out to the cottage, where I lazed away the afternoons with Life of Pi (I certainly would have posted on the weirdness of that book!) and annoyed my brother with my cooking and excitement over peaches and berries at the farmers market. I would have written about the cocky joy in Henry's gait when he ran on the beach, ears cocked and paws prancing, stopping to pee on every sand castle. How good it felt to snuggle up with his salty paws. I would have written about the ice cream at Dairy Dock, the sunsets that turned the bay into a pool of liquid gold, and the joy of riding my Surly through the quarry to have coffee in Marblehead.


All this I would have written, but instead chose not to write at all, until this rainy Monday in Kampala, a month after my return; the intermittent weeks shedding a golden light of nostalgia on the memory, like photographs with the edges worn - a bit more loved for their distance from the present moment.

taking stock

stopping to smell the flowers - these flowers were in ruhengeri

I'm halfway done with my layover at Schipol, en route to DC and Ohio for some R&R. It seems a good time to take stock of what's transpired since the last time I was in this airport.

Here are some of the highlights:

I finally started teaching yoga, and I love it. I started a weekly class at the US Embassy.

I met Alison, fellow Clevelander and yogini (and incredible friend), and starting August 1, she'll be the full-time sales rep for One Mango Tree in the US.

I traveled. A lot - I spent a week in Rwanda with Julie, a few days in Jo'burg and then assisted Hitesh with a case study on an eco-lodge for his forthcoming book, took another Nile cruise in Murchison, spent a weekend in Sipi Falls, spent a weekend in Mabira Forest, and logged a dozen or so trips to Gulu.

I moved out of the Cronin's lovely Kololo guest house, and into a flat in Muyenga with my friend Whitney.

I bought a Pajero.

I rented a compound for One Mango Tree, forging a partnership with Greater Good to increase our production and begin to make exclusive products for their brands (starting with organic cotton apparel for Global Girlfriend).

I started working with interns - bringing Josh and Hilary on board to do some awesome stuff for One Mango Tree - Josh is delving into operations, and Hilary is a fashion designer. The One Mango Tree family continues to grow...

I completed a two-month consultancy with Chemonics, working on a bid for a new project in northern Uganda, and became an expert on local government capacity building and labor-intensive infrastructure projects. I think I met every government official in Gulu, Amuru and Kitgum.

Oh, and I quit AIR. But you knew that already.

-----------------

And those are just the tangible outcomes of the first four months in Uganda. In the wee hours of the long nights in Gulu I learned some big huge lessons about forgiveness and moving on.

I cannot wait to see what's next, following this little breather at my family's cabin. It's been an absolutely incredible first half of 2009.

ugandlisht 6 - traveling. traveling.

This week I'm traveling back to the US on holiday, so I figured I'd give some pointers related to traveling in and out of Uganda.

1. Visa.
Unless you are coming to Uganda long-term for work, I'd suggest getting a travel visa at the airport - it's $50 and a lot easier than dealing with the back-and-forth of sending out your passport and photos to the Ugandan Embassy in DC.

2. Money.
MasterCard really is not accepted in Uganda, so try not to bring it. If you must, I've heard Crane Bank works. Other ATMs are strictly VISA. With that said, Uganda is still a cash economy. With the exception of fancy-schmancy hotels, credit cards are not accepted. Best bet is to bring USD to get your travel visa and then hit up the Barclay's ATM right outside international arrivals at the airport to take out some cash. If you bring USD, make sure they are 2000 or later date - there's no one in Uganda that will buy 1996-series bills. And bring $50 and $100 denominations, otherwise you get jacked on the exchange rate. The forex at Grand Imperial Hotel in town is the best place to exchange, but all major banks (Barclay's being my personal favorite) will buy your USD.

3. Special Hire.
That's what we call taxis in Uganda. If you say "taxi," Ugandans will think you're referring to matatus, which are the little minibuses that serve as public transit in the country. There are tons of drivers waiting for fares at the airport. The airport fare is typically 60,000 (about $30) to get anywhere in Kampala. Entebbe is about an hour from Kampala.

4. Duty-Free.
If you're en route to your travel destination via an EU airport, forget about all the duty-free liquids at the Entebbe Airport. They'll confiscate them at the EU airport and you'll have to buy your booze all over again. Stupid rule, but it's a rule.

5. Caffeine and wireless.
Good African Coffee opened up a shop inside the airport (finally! something besides Crane Cafeteria!), so now getting to the airport the suggested 3 hours before your flight is not nearly as painful. They have awesome espresso drinks and muffins, and Uganda Telecom hotspot, so surf away while you wait to board. As a side note, EBB is really stepping it up a notch. I can't believe the continual improvements at the airport - every trip it gets better.

6. Time.
Give yourself at least 1.5 hours to get from downtown Kampala to the airport. You never know what kind of jam you're going to run into getting through town or on Entebbe Road.

7. Airlines.
I always fly KLM, because I love Schipol Airport. I used to fly Emirates, but the 10-hour layover at Dubai Airport was NOT worth the comfy cabin, air freshener and good food. There's just something about the Dutch that make that Uganda-America or America-Uganda transition just right. And they have plentiful wireless, delicious coffee, and typically play jazz Muzak, so it makes me really nostalgic for America. Haven't tried Brussels Air yet, but they and British Airways also fly from the US to Uganda. And apparently you can now do a direct DC-Addis and then Addis-EBB on Ethiopian Airways. I'm sticking with KLM and my World Perks.

I'm ready for a holiday!

ugandlisht 5 - getting pretty

This should probably be a list, but I'm so excited about the salon I went to this week that I'm dedicating this post only to Sunel Lourenco Hair & Beauty in Bugolobi. Prior to visiting Sunel, I lived under the impression that to live in Uganda meant to deal with my grown out roots and flat hair. Not so.

Sunel's salon is in a converted garage - looks boring from the outside...

totally beautiful inside (that's Sunel, working on some caramel-colored highlights)

Sunel (pronounced sue-kneel), originally from South Africa, has lived in Uganda for the past five years. Her jewel of a salon is a converted garage. The style is simple and modern. Sunel did a combo of highlights and lowlights on me - full-head color - for 150,000 ush ($75). In my long history of hair agony, that's a steal. And she did an amazing job. Ladies haircuts are 35,000 ($17). Angel assised Sunel with my hair, and gave me the most incredible shampoo/massage...

She gets all of her products imported from Italy - including ammonia-free hair dyes. After getting a lesson from Sunel on how Uganda is damaging my hair (sun, heavily chlorinated tap water), I stocked up on real shampoo, conditioner and a hair mask. Those are a bit expensive ($20 for each and $25 for the mask), but a massive difference. I put the remnants of my Palmolive stuff under the sink.

And Sunel's place has plenty of salon-ness. You know - the chit chat, flipping through glossy South African fashion mags, drinking coffee.

Location:
Plot 12 Hanlon Road, Bugolobi, Kampala
Make an appointment! +256 (0) 782 571 816
sunellourenco@gmail.com

reason #176: why I love kampala

the sunsets.

resurfacing...and roads

Ugandlisht was supposed to keep me on track with updating this blog, but it failed miserably. A few nights ago, while hiding under the mosquito net in my room at Bomah, I started making Ugandlishts. A few hours later, when I was ready to call up friends to get a vote on "best pizza in kampala," I looked at my phone - it was past 1 am. I decided to give Ugandlishts and myself a rest.

I started a consultancy on 1 May, and it's kept me pretty occupied. We're working on a proposal for a new USAID project in Northern Uganda. It will bring a big investment in local government capacity-building - by implementing lots of infrastructure projects using the procurement process in place at the district level. That means lots of community roads in the north - using labor-intensive construction methods. Aside from general development (and the very obvious fact that NU needs lots of road improvements), roads mean a lot for economic development. In NU, it's the difference between farming for subsistence and farming for livelihood - the road connects to market. In the case of this project, it's also infusing much needed cash into the economy through the provision of jobs for unskilled laborers within returning communities. Community roads are pretty easy to construct, they just need oversight and lots of willing and able labor.

So, since the beginning of May, I've been immersed in the world of - gasp - planning. It's been a truly engaging project, and I'm loving how much it gets me up to Gulu. I'm currently logging my fourth trip since the consultancy began. It also pushed back my return to the US for visiting the family (sorry mom and dad), which means I won't be on the road til June 24. Roads, roads, roads. On the road again...tomorrow morning, back to Kampala.

ugandlisht 4 - work + caffeine

coffee in sipi falls - image courtesy of joe shymanski

Every day of my life is "work from home," and the only down side is that it can feel pretty anti-social after a while. Here's where I head when I need to caffeinate and get some work done.

**Cafe Pap - Parliament Avenue - Infocom Hotspot, outlets lining the padded both seats in the inside along the walls, excellent coffee (single capp is my favorite) - they also have a really great juicer. If you don't need a plug in, it's great to sit out on the patio. I've been a fan of Pap for some time - some will say the prices are too high (and they are), but it still draws a sort of fascinating crowd of Ugandan professionals mixed in with expats in hemp wear.

**1,000 cups - Buganda Road - no wifi here - across the street from the Buganda Road craft market and has it's own plentiful craft shop. Better for meetings than all day hang out, and no food here, but the coffee selection is incredible and delicious and the outdoor chairs are comfy if you can snag one. You can also get a french press and buy whole/ground coffee beans grown in Uganda.

**Javas - Bombo Road in City Oil - Infocom Hotspot - the classiest truck stop coffee shop I've ever seen. Close to Mak U, and has excellent and cheap coffee and food. I get the mocha here. Air conditioning inside, and a cute patio (though if you stay too long, it gets pretty dusty from bombo road).

**Good African Coffee - Lugogo shopping center Jinja Road - UTL hotspot - fantastic coffee drinks and a nice menu (great pastries too!). Only down side is that the plug-ins are upstairs and the ambience isn't as nice up there. Outdoor seating available too - great if you have to run other errands - Lugogo has Shoprite, Game, Banana Boat, Silverback pharmacy, MTN, and ATMs galore.

and when in Gulu...

**Cafe Larem - just opened! between Jojo's Palace and Acholi Ber Inn, this cafe is operated by American couple Justin and Rita Garson, who just opened up two weeks ago - fantastic addition to Gulu. Hookups for internet, simple mahogany furniture, soothing colors and just flat out nice people - Cafe Larem is soon to outgrow its current shoe box space. Justin and Rita really know what they are doing. Excellent coffee (including espresso-based beverages and iced coffee!), cookies, and brownies. Other snacks and some One Mango Tree products coming soon.

on shifting

St. Stephen's Church - providing all-day Sunday gospel - right behind my house

Universal alignment has been the theme of 2009 - particularly in my living situation. When I decided to move to Uganda, the Cronins offered up their guest house in Kololo rent-free. I lived there for my first four months. When the Cronins told me they'd hired a live-in nanny and needed the space back, at first I was really nervous. But then a few days later I met Whitney, who works with Grameen Foundation. We met at a yoga class, and later that afternoon while chatting at the pool she told me she needed a roommate starting June 1.

So it goes.

the living room - I had some sofas made at a shop on ggaba road

After only two trips in his little gray sedan, Medi and I moved (Ugandans call it "shifting") all of my worldly belongings to the new place and I started settling in. I can't even begin to describe how happy I am to live in Muyenga. I've dreamt for three years about making a home in Uganda, and it's finally real.

my bedroom - with blanket from khana khazana

I am within walking distance to Helle's yoga classes, Ciao Ciao gelato and the Italian supermarket, Fuego Cocktails (with it's fantastic drinks and fire pit), and the raucous bars and shops of Kabalagala (including Lalibela, my favorite Ethiopian joint). In the mornings I make some French press and sit on the balcony watching the kids from the neighboring school go through their exercise classes.

Grace, our housekeeper, is quite possibly the sweetest woman I've ever met. I've been giving her money each week to pick up fresh fruits and veggies at Nakasero market (she likes to go early to get the best prices as the farmers arrive at the market). This morning I looked in the fridge and found she'd made fresh watermelon-pineapple juice.

In short, I feel like I won the lottery, and I hope friends and family will take up the offer and come visit.

ugandlisht 3 - sweet cravings in kla

When you're fiending for sugar in Kampala - here's the low down on where to satisfy your sweet tooth needs.

1. gelato - ciao ciao's and cafe roma gelato in tank hill
   
2. banana split - crocodile cafe in kisementi
3. mango sticky rice - krua thai in kololo
4. sweet plantains - mama ashanti's bombo road
5. chocolate cake - i love new york kitchen garden city
6. corn pudding - lotus mexicana nakasero
7. chocolate mousse - la patisserie ggaba road
8. snickers ice cream bar - nakumatt oasis mall
9. banana milk shake - kabira country club bukoto
10. baklava - lebanese store in basement of garden city

ugandlisht 2 - three great places to have a drink in kla

for the context
Lalibela - Kabalagala - directly above Fancy This lingerie shop, Lalibela is a little slice of Ethiopia tucked away in Kampala's rowdiest neighborhood. Hang out on their balcony - a church pew width overhang that gives you the perfect leverage to people watch and sip on a club. Background music shifts between Ethiopian beats and 90s movie soundtracks. Stick around for dinner too - no menu, but whatever they're serving promises to be delicious.

for the view
Hotel Diplomate - Muyenga - a dusty bit of the old Africa, complete with a stuffed lion chained to the staircase. the hotel feels pretty vacant, which only adds to the romance of the sunset over Kampala. Add a g&t and watch the jam build up on Ggaba road as the clouds and sky turns all shades of magic.

for the atmosphere
Emin Pasha - Nakasero - this hotel is simply gorgeous - the most well-sited and tastefully-designed piece of architecture I've seen in Kampala to date. Build into the hill-side in Nakasero, Emin Pasha has infinite options for seating experiences - on the patio, in the cozy bar, in the garden, next to the fire pit. Pick one and settle in with a glass of house red. Perfect opportunity to put on your best fancy lounge-y clothes and feel utterly luxurious.

ugandlisht 1 - what to do in gulu

A new feature! Each Wednesday I'll be adding a list to this blog, related to all the Uganda PR I tend to naturally do. Ugandlisht (a combo of the peculiar dialect of English spoken here + list) will pull together all things strange, interesting and useful about living and working in Uganda.

View of Owino Market from the balcony of Jojo's Palace

Ugandlisht 1: For some reason, you find yourself in Gulu. What to do?

1. Stay at Jojo's Palace. Book with Denis at +256 (0) 782925004, single self-contained at ush 35,000, breakfast of hard-boiled egg, pineapple, banana, bread, jam, coffee and tea included.
2. Bring mosquito repellant, take your anti-malarials, and sleep under the net. Gulu is not Kampala. They are vicious little suckers up there. A little Deet goes a long way.
3. Say "acho maber" (good morning in Acholi) to Mama Lucy at One Mango Tree - enter Owino Market right across from Jojo's Palace, and you'll find One Mango Tree about a 30-second walk down, on the left. The tailors make lots of One Mango Tree designs to sell at a discount to locals, so stock up!
4. Check out the rest of Owino, particularly the food section. You'll find stalls with some traditional products too - like metal ankle bells used for Acholi dance, and carved out gourds used for carrying water and food, as well the local clay bowls, which are a pretty shade of deep red.
   
5. Get yourself some African shirts or dresses from the tailors in Owino. Pick out crazy African fabric (roller skates? chickens?) and play fashion designer. Eat lunch while you're there. A delicious plate of rice and beans is only ush 1,500, or try some malakwang, bo, cassava, or odii.
6. Eat some paneer (the tikka masala is delicious) and naan at Obama Inn (ask any boda driver to find the place, right in town)
7. Treat yourself to a massage at Bomah - ask for Judy (a delightful Kenyan therapist) and enjoy the rubdown and, even better, the after-massage scrub with a hot wash cloth - only ush 20,000. If you're feeling really adventurous, join the big men of Gulu for a steam bath and talk shop. And afterwards...
   
8. Have a feast in their restaurant. Introduce yourself to Jacob, the manager, and bring your own avocado for the chef to slice and add to your greek salad. If cheese is there, the macaroni au gratin will satisfy your garlic craving and fill an empty belly. Steak with pepper sauce is pretty good too.
   
9. Pick up some handicrafts at Wawoto Kacel - a little craft shop across from Pearl Afrique Hotel in town. Gorgeous natural jewelry, banana leaf cards, tie-and-dye and creative bark cloth products made by Comboni Samaritans - a coop supporting HIV+, widows, orphans and the disabled. Schedule a visit to Comboni with Godfrey, who works at Wawoto Kacel. It's about a 10-minute boda ride outside of town, but their operations are truly worth a visit.
10. Stop by any of the many bicycle vendors in town. Talk them into letting you rent a bike for the day and take a ride around the outskirts of Gulu - head for the Cathedral to check out Gulu's architectural marvel and a nice big statue of Jesus.
11. Take a late afternoon beer at Havana or Da Pub, or head there after hours to get a taste of the Gulu night scene.
12. Have dessert. At Bomah, bring your own mango to add to the pancake and drizzle it with honey. Perfect washed down with spiced African tea. At Bambu, it's the Sweet Temptation. Indulgent; if you're lucky and they have all the ingredients in stock.
13. Before you head out of town, stop by Country Bakery for provisions - chicken and veg samosas are excellent, as is the banana bread; and pick up a bag of vanilla yogurt (bite the corner, insert straw - instant smoothie) is great for a hot day in Gulu.
14. If you're taking the bus back to K'la, try for the first Northern Tours bus (leaves around 6:45). It takes only 4 hours to reach the outskirts of K'la from there. Keep your luggage on the bus with you and when you get to Kawempe, tell the conductor to let you off and hop a boda. It will save you up to two hours of sitting in traffic and the hassle of the bus park.
    

Apwoyo (pronounced ah-pho-yo) means thanks, use it liberally, and in response to pretty much anything anyone says to you in Acholi. Have a great time!

entrepreneurial explosion

Turns out I'm an entrepreneur. One of the side effects of living and working in Uganda - opportunity abounds. One Mango Tree continues to grow - adding products and continually widening our customer base, delving into organic cotton and other craft - screen-printing, seed jewelry, etc.

I'm not sure if it's Uganda or it's my changed modus operandi - but all of the businesses I've dreamed of in the past somehow seem much more realistic.

Like...

The eco-B&B somewhere breathtakingly beautiful with a yoga deck.
The yoga studio cafe with a fair trade shop.
The smoothie/juice/coffee shop with wifi.

sipi river lodge at night photo credits joe shymanski

It's a compilation of all of the things that I love. I don't just want to do yoga - I want to design and market organic cotton yoga clothes. I want to organize retreat weekends bringing together Ugandan massage therapists and yoga teachers with beautiful spots like Sipi River Lodge and Rainforest Lodge. The colors, the smell, the taste, the sounds. Right now it all just keeps me energetic and inspired, but at some point I know I'm going to find a spot and put down some roots - build an experience for people to enjoy.

----

let's dry these suckers!

And then there's food processing. This week, while working in Gulu on a consulting assignment, I was talking with a colleague about how to dry fruits (merely out of curiosity - brought on by the mounds of mangoes to be found all over northern Uganda right now). After hearing how she dried fruits in Peace Corps in Benin, my mind went crazy over the idea of artisan-dried fruits to market and sell within East Africa and possibly abroad! One Mango Tree dried fruits!

Sometimes I wonder if I've totally lost it. Or found it?

let's hang out at the cineplex

Garden City Mall in Kampala

courtesy of farm3's flickrstream

In the three years I've been traveling to Uganda, I've only ventured into the Garden City Cineplex once, to see Vantage Point with Steve last April. Being as that I'm a Butvin, movie-going runs deep in my blood. Trips home to Strongsville are not complete without at least one dinner-and-a-movie combo - not to mention the scores of flicks we watch out at the cottage on rainy summer days. I always forget how much I love the experience until I'm watching the previews. At which point I get so excited that I forget you also get to see a full-length feature film after the previews are done!

After a hot hot hot afternoon walking around the various tents at the Europe-Uganda Village on Saturday, we decided to see a matinee - Duplicity. Popcorn, spies, love and air conditioning - perfect.

So perfect, in fact, that today, after an extended brunch at Emin Pasha, we decided to hit up the Cineplex again - this time for X-Men Origins: Wolverine. We stopped at the new Nakumatt that opened up at Oasis Mall, spending a very American sum ($10) on a Snickers ice cream bar, gummy bears and one very small bag of peanut M&Ms. It felt just like home.

Two Hugh-filled hours later, we reconvened in the food court. Yes, the food court. This was the weekend of the American teenager. I'm full of gummy bears, paneer wrap and pop culture. Life is good.

pollan fever

I love Alain de Botton. Travel, love, status anxiety, physical space - he wraps it all up in an artsy philosophical package that you just can't wait to tear open.

Michael Pollan has done the same thing for the tangible world, totally re-shaping the way we look at food - and writing about it in that page-turning way only Pollan can do.

pollan's writing house

While perusing the used bookshops in Melville last month, I came across A Place of My Own, Pollan's treatise on personal architecture. Written after finishing renovation of his own home and upon entering into fatherhood, the book winds elegantly between construction handbook and the individual's need for personal space.

my writing house?

When I was growing up, I had a little hideaway under the basement stairs. My dad creeped me out by telling me it was because it was only 8 years earlier that I was just a little seed in my mom's womb. Twenty years, later, it makes sense, but the desire to have a "place of my own" has never subsided. Pollan's place is a shingled writing shack in the woods near his home. I've visualized a whole range of my own places, from one of those prefab houses dropped on a plot in rural West Virginia, to a house on stilts in Belize with zero decoration - just warm wood tones and sea breezes. Or a Bon Iver-ish dark cabin in the woods with a hearth and blankets of snow outside.

Pollan's descriptions totally hit home - from my own dreams about place to his education on architecture. The book traipses from framing to Le Corbusier, from roofing to Frank Lloyd Wright, and from site selection to Peter Eisenman (eek! I still hate him!). Ultimately, he brings it back to architecture as shelter, and the very personal architecture of creating a space that suits who we are. Bravo.

jumping ship - with both feet

go for it, and don't look back

No more of this one-toe-testing-the-water stuff. After spending three years gazing out at the vast, inviting and unsure waters, I just dove in head first.

It's been about a year since my friend Ivan gave me the book The 4-Hour Work Week. It took me a few months to not feel silly reading it - a business self-help book of sorts with a gilded guy in a hammock on the front. When I finally did pick it up (after removing the jacket), I hid myself away for a few days and emerged with a fresh perspective on life. The impact the book had on me cannot be exaggerated. Of course it provided valuable lessons for One Mango Tree - finding a good fulfillment service, outsourcing anything and everything you can, being comfortable with delegating. But bigger than that, I realized there were other people out there like me - people who felt completely stifled and discouraged by the 9-to-5 career existence.

There is another way to live.

When I left DC, I intended to stay with the day job I've had since moving there in 2005. All fall I'd been experimenting with working remote, and started taking Fridays off to work on my business. I'd convinced myself it was the office environment, not the work itself, that was killing me. Once I got to Uganda, I continued the remote work thing; checking in, doing my reports, trying to make the conference calls work. And then, suddenly, One Mango Tree really started working. And I started teaching yoga. And I realized how little it really costs to have a great life in Uganda.

And so on Friday, I took the leap. I quit AIR.

I dove in head first. And let me tell you - the water feels really damn good.

on teaching

svasana adjustment at sipi river lodge

photo credits joe shymanski

When I was finishing up the "apprenticeship" component of my yoga teaching training last year, I had to teach parts of a few private group classes in my mentor Judy's home in Woodley Park. I'd head off on the Surly in the early summer light; the anxiety and the bike ride making me feel very much alive. Judy didn't like to prep me too much before the classes - she'd be teaching and then say, "and now Halle will lead us through balancing postures." At which point my brain would start to sift and scroll through sanskrit and posture nicknames. No matter how much my nerves would cause me to sweat and shake, I always left class feeling totally invigorated.

I moved to Uganda with the full intention of teaching yoga at Kevin and Gavin's studio in Munyonyo, but it took me almost two full months to finally accept an invite to teach. I'd just returned from South Africa, and Kevin suggested that I sub their Sunday morning class. I laughed nervously and then accepted. At 2:30 am on Sunday morning I was still burning incense and perfecting my playlist.

I love to practice yoga, but I'm coming to realize that I love teaching yoga in a completely different way. Much like giving and receiving gifts, there's something to be said for experiencing both sides of the equation. The giving part I like the most is svasana, when I can prance around the room with herbal eye pillows, adjusting all the students and giving them head massages. I love the squinty-eyed bliss that follows svasana after a class that really pushed you.

All in all, I really love teaching, and I'm truly enjoying being the newbie teacher in town.