Mzungu Memories

Mukono

COPYRIGHT© 2018 KRISTEN BOWEN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Foundation Training. This week aims to build foundations of knowledge which we can then bring to the community to build upon, but most importantly, it aims to build foundations of friendships that will outlast our three months spent working together. Small groups of us will be living, socialising and working with each other 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the next 12 weeks. Having shared a room with my sister my whole life I know how crazy that can get! And I didn't have to teach with her too.

The highlight of training week so far has been our day trip into Mukono. The Ankrah Foundation Hotel we are based in towers over this beautiful town, perched on a mountainside overlooking the zig-zagging streets. We all slowly picked our way down, with monkeys clambouring in the trees above our heads, as excited as we were. We spent some time roaming through the streets, taking in the new smells and noises of an alien place.

Kids raced out of buildings shouting "Mzungu, mzungu!" This is a word I would soon grow very accustomed to hearing. A Bantu language term used in the African Great Lakes region to describe any white or rich person, literally translated to "wanderer". At first, a few of us were a little off-put by it's use, but I grew to love and cherish it. In fact, to this day I wear a hand-woven wristband with the word embroidered into it, even 2 years after returning home.

The sloping hills of Mukono brought us down into markets that assaulted every sense we had. Stall after stall of intricate jewelry, ornate shoes, Ugandan football Strips, fresh vegetables, the most delicious smelling cakes and pastries. The stallholders and customers alike stared as we walked past, fascinated with our every move. We stopped to talk to people; helped by our Ugandan National Volunteers and high-fived kids as we wove our way through the narrow marketplace and onto the open stretch of the high street.

The Nationals ushered us into Uganda's answer to a department store and we all sifted through our brains to remember what our advisors back in the UK said we'd need as we tried to ram it all into the little baskets we picked up on the way in. Pillows, washing buckets, laundry soap, notebooks, stationery supplies and a few sneaky bags of Ugandan treats later and we were queuing to get out. It felt very weird to spend 70k on a few basic essentials, even though that only worked out at around £15.

With overflowing bags in hand, we headed back to our "home from home" on the hill above us. Most of the volunteers took bodo-bodas back, which was strictly against the rules. I chose to trek it with a small handful of British volunteers and two Nationals, Patrick and Pius. I have never climbed anything so steep in my life; and just when we thought we had reached the top we turned a corner and there was another even steeper hill. It was all worth it though when we finally reached the path to Ankrah and took a rest. The 8 of us sat sprawled out on the side of a cliff, with an uninterrupted view of Mukono that stretched as far as the capital Kampala 30 miles in the distance. Patrick found a banana tree and we all picked one and ate it, the freshest fruit you could possibly ask for. No banana could ever compare to the one I ate on a hillside in Africa with the sun beating down on me alongside people who would soon turn into family.