Yesterday was the second to last day of the week-long Jinja Agricultural Fair/show. The plan was to go the day with my counterpart, and tour around during the day. After meeting up in town, we joined one of the many long lines to get in. This was serious--metal detectors, bag checkers, full-uniformed soldiers...did the show always have this high of security, I wonder? After moving through the single-file line (which was almost orderly, I was quite impressed) and getting the too-personal pat-down, the woman checking my bag pulled out my contraband.
"Ah, you can't have a camera. We do not allow them today." WHAT?! Why, was all I was thinking, and where was the sign for that? The guard directed us towards a man in a short-sleeved, checkered, blue button up. That's odd, I thought, he doesn't look like he has any authority.
"You need to take your camera out," he explained.
"Now, where are we going to take this? We don't live around here?" My counterpart argued.
"Sorry, I can't do anything for you, if I had held onto all of the cameras that have come through here today, I'd have," and he made a gesture showing that he'd be holding a lot. "You can store it at the police station in town. No cameras today, the president is coming."
Oooooooooooohhhhhh. When I heard that, my first thought was, yeah right. Little did I know, the undercover man I was speaking with one of the President's security officers.
We felt defeated. We weren't about to walk back to town, so we did the next best thing and persuaded a traffic officer to hold onto my camera. "Ok, I'll see you in two hours," he said at 11:00 AM.
We thanked him profusely, and then cut the line to get back in. Multi-colored tents, flags, stands, stages and banners were everywhere, advertising things like "Movit" "Herbal Medicine" "Airtel" "Orange," and then some actual agriculture related things. School groups were moving together in clusters, recognizable by their uniforms. Even in the 80 degree weather, guys and gals alike were wearing sweater vests, long-sleeved button-ups, trousers for the gents and knee-lengthed skirts for the ladies, tube socks and dress shoes. I was sweating just looking at them. I suspect that several young gentlemen were changing out of their uniform mid-day, because about 100 Kid Cudi look-alikes were walking around. Music was coming from all directions, booming at maximum volume out of oversize stage speakers. We ate our first chicken meal of the day (we ate chicken all day, about five times total). Over brunch, we discussed my upcoming lesson next week. Reproductive health, family planning and STD prevention. My CP had been helping me think of ways to get free condoms for teaching purposes. My aim is to present a condom demonstration, and the students will be able to try it themselves (using a toilet paper tube). For this reason, I needed like, a LOT of condoms. So far, we hadn't had any luck, and we missed our chance to check out the Family Planning Resource Center in Jinja. Luckily, we came upon the TASO tent.
The AIDS Support Organization (TASO) works in several areas in Uganda, delivering treatment services (home based, outreach clinics, day care), sensitizing families of HIV+ patients and the community, offering free testing, educating school groups, carrying out research and so much more! It's a really fantastic group working to battle the HIV/AIDs rate in Uganda. Read more about them here. The people working at the tent were happy to see and talk to us. For some reason, I didn't know where to begin asking the nice people for as many free condoms as they could give me. Luckily, my CP was there, and in the very non-direct, roundabout Ugandan way of getting to the point, she smoothly transitioned to asking for as many free teaching materials they could afford to part with.
"Oh, yeah we can give you a whole box!" A man reached behind the table clothed display table and handed me an inconspicuous box of 100, which fit perfectly in my purse. Mission accomplished! At that point, it was the highlight of my day.
We moved around, looking at different types of corn (one type engineered to be drought-resistant), tomatoes, onions, rice, fish, nuts, and greens that are being grown in Uganda. At an impressive display of eggplants, my CP suggested that perhaps that would be better to use than toilet paper tubes, as it's more life-like. Ah, perhaps, but do I really want to buy 50 eggplants?! We then moved through the prison exhibit to see the projects that prisoners work on during their time. They do poultry farming, vegetable farming, or carpentry (depending on their interest). The furniture on display was beautiful, and magnificently crafted! However, the price was reflective of the quality, and so my CP and I just tried out a few comfortable chairs, and moved on. My CP pointed out that the booming music had ceased. I didn't even notice.
"His excellency must be here," she concluded.
Two popsicles and bottles of water later, we met up with another tutor from school who was the chaperone (ish) for our students. They're adult students, so the tutor let them loose. We joined him at the table where he was eating matooke, rice and envuluga under a tent, watching the people ride the spinning swings. We three tutors had a lot to talk about--Mbarara, end of term exams, the students today, and an unfortunate incident with counterfeit money.
Just behind us, about 100 feet from where we were sitting, in a brick gazebo-type building, a crowd was collecting....and then we saw the hat. WHOA. First thought? Too bad I don't have my camera! Second thought? That guy looks familiar....same blue-checkered shirt guy from the front gate was watching the perimeter. It was bizarre, sitting there staring at the president so closely. I believe for the 5 minute photo shoot, no one in that food tent moved or said much of anything. We just kind of stared. New highlight of the day.
From there, we saw the animal exhibit. I saw my first Crested Crane! (Still didn't have my camera with me). The exhibit exited to a bluff overlooking the source of the Nile. Clusters of uniform-clad students relaxed in the shade, watching the water that powers the Owen Falls Dam.
More tutors from college found us, and from afternoon to late late evening, it was a blur of chicken, music, dancing and all together a great time. I'm gaining strength, as I write this, to start my laundry....mpola mpola.
I did get my camera back. At about 4:04 PM, I found the traffic officer in the same spot.
"You said two hours," was the first thing he said to me. I have yet to find a Ugandan in Jinja who operates on 'Ugandan time.' It was all kale, though, no worries!
Tune in next week for updates on my sex-ed class.
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