Jul 12, 2010

last night...

Last night, I walked down the same hill I have walked down everyday since I have arrived in Kampala. I walked with Bea and Jonathan, two constants in my life here. We walked to same bar I have watched every world cup game I have been interested in. I drank a Bell beer Chatted with the waitress who adores me. Smiled at the Ugandans' enthusiasm for football. We watched a messy, yet entertaining game of football and then climber the same hill home.

The electricity at the house has been out all weekend, which is a good enough reason to go straight to bed. I awoke to a knock on my door at 7am like I do every weekday. I answered it, flipped the switch to see that the electricity was still not working. This was a good enough reason for me to crawl back in to bad. I awoke just before nine and was greeted with the news of the bombings.

My first thought was to call my mom. My phone had been off to conserve power so I had received no panicky phone calls from my parents or friends. I immediately called her and could hear the relief in her voice when she answered the phone. I instructed her to call my dad and the Clinton School to let them know I was okay.

I knew I needed to check my email and Facebook to let everyone know I was okay. I knew you'd be worried. But I was a bit anxious about leaving the cozy confines of the APP house. But here I am at an internet cafe in the city center.

It feels as though 64 people did not lose their lives last night in a terrorist attack during an event which was suppose to be celebratory. The matatus still rule the road and I am still called Muzungu. I will still go to Western Uganda tomorrow to complete my last prison visits in Uganda. And I will still be leaving next week.

Yet I am a bit shaken. I have never lived in a city which has been attacked. Ugandans have seen worse, alot worse, and therefore I somehow understand their lack of panic.


  1. You don't know what a relief it was to skype with you this morning, and to now read this entry.
    You say you leave next week, so no early return?

  2. So relieved to hear you are ok. Take extra care of yourself over these next couple of weeks. Hugs.

  3. My mom and sister were asking about you and the others in Uganda... I was happy to report that everything was well with my peeps. Good luck with your last few days! Be well.

  4. Maybe you also get a prize for being safe? Probably. I mean, I AM going to Target tonight.

  5. You have a target? Seriously, I hate you.