An Inauspicious Sunday

Not an auspicious start to the day: Sunday, December 1st.  There's no Daddy.  No internet.  No power.  And not nearly enough sleep.

My iPad tells me that it is December, and the last time I saw Facebook there were incongruous things like families cutting down evergreen trees while wearing puffy jackets.  I kind of recall writing something several rounds of delays ago, about resigning myself to November but that I was going to put up a fuss about spending December in Uganda.  But it doesn't feel like December anyways; it's hot and sunny out and mangos are in season.  So I think it is more reasonable to assume that it is not December at all, and that I will be able to go home and have my own, pleasant, NORMAL December.  So that date on the iPad is highly unsettling.


As for the internet, this is a morning I would really like to sit down and half-veg-out with looking at different things that friends and family had written, and look at pictures and write little notes that someone might eventually read and say something to me.  I turned the router off and on again a dozen times, hoping that something would finally improve, but it didn't.  Finally I called the internet provider (which is complicated by itself) and they told me there was a fiber optic cable broken, and it was a "known problem" and they had a "team working on it," but no scheduled time it would be fixed.  Meanwhile, our whole side of the city has no internet.

I have read several books and editorials about the future of Africa.  Apparently there was a famous speech that said something like "while the world walks, Africa must run" so it can catch up and participate in the global world.  Whoever is referring to this speech, then they talk about frustrations that keep Africa from running: corruption, poor government, diaspora, etc.  But I see the problem in things much smaller than that.  Like the internet.  By having internet in my own home, and not connected through fallible wires, I have about the best set-up that anyone can buy.  Financially, it is obviously out of reach of most people, but not beyond what the middle class could afford -- but most people DON'T afford it.  Generally, they don't seem to know the options that exist, and work with the very limited Internet cafes or ten-years'-old dial-up.  But even with this "best" internet, there's a significant percentage of the time that it barely works or doesn't work at all.

How can anyone run to catch up with the world like that?  Like it or not, it's an internet world.  And from my understanding, it is open-serve software and personal internet connections that break down a lot of doors between rich and poor, which everyone agrees is essential for Africa.  But how can you reach across continents and break down doors when your tools are like this?  If a Ugandan did manage to have a great idea and create a great business or a great network, how would he work with people in New York or Tokyo or London?  Would they just accept, "oh, I didn't hear back from you for three days because a fiber optic cable broke and there was no internet any more"?  Even a few hours' delay is becoming unacceptable outside of Africa.



As for the power, that is more a frustration than a real challenge.  I appreciate that some lights work in this house, and even more that I can find some outlet somewhere that has power, so I don't have to worry about keeping all my devices' batteries charged all the time, just in case the power goes out.  But I can't use the washing machine and our clothes run out fast.  And I can't use the stove, I have to use the stupid propane tanks with burners on the top.  Which are at knee level, which is uncomfortable for me to stoop over, but just perfect for a child to go careening into an open flame with a giant pot of almost-boiling water balanced on top of it.


And there's no Daddy.  We dropped him off at the airport last night.  We warned the children what would happen in the morning, because I don't want them feeling like he disappears randomly.  They had a chaotic but cheerful morning around the house while Daddy and I packed suitcases.  He came straight from a trade show with only a carry-on, but agreed to take back two suitcases full of things in order to lessen our chances of having to leave things behind when we pack.  (I thought that with eight checked-bag limit, that wouldn't be a problem.  But that was two or three months ago!)  So I spent a while fussing around the house, trying to find the mediumly-necessary things.  Things that weren't so necessary that we would actively miss them if we were here another month or so, but not things so unnecessary that it wouldn't hurt to just give them away if we ran out of suitcase space.

With a departure as delayed and irritated as a three-kid, two-trip departure is bound to be, we finally piled into the car and drove to the zoo.  We managed to have a nice time there.  As I have said before, it is well laid out, with lots of open space for running around, and a restaurant overlooking Lake Victoria.  We have usually tried to get there first thing in the morning, when the zoo is fairly empty and the animals are still active in the morning's cool.  This time we were there at the opposite time, and indeed, we saw some animals moving around in the dusky evening light.  Most amazing, we got to watch the lions running around and playing.  There are some mostly-grown cubs, and one of them kept trying to get his mother to play, and they would suddenly chase each other and then collapse on the grass and wrestle, and then pretend to go to sleep for a while.  I have never seen lions that active!  Even so, they make kitty cats look like hyper over-acheivers; the percentage of pretend-sleeping to running-playing was quite striking!

Then we found a Chinese restaurant for dinner.  That was exciting variety for me!  It was kind of Ugandan-style Chinese, but at least there weren't actual plates of matoke on the table.  (I like matoke just fine, it just doesn't strike me as fitting in with a Chinese buffet!)  The tables were set under awnings outside, and after dinner we let the children run around on the lawn.  They were over-tired and over-excited, and there was a corresponding amount of bumping into things and falling down and disobeying the rules and having to Sit, but they were happy nonetheless.  I got to sit next to my husband, and we ALMOST had something resembling a conversation between all the owie kissing and rule enforcing and pants wetting.

Once again, I was thinking how much more fun this life is for Emerson.  Sometimes his sisters (especially one of them!) can be pretty overwhelming, and I think he misses the way that toys stayed in his hands and on his shelves.  But now, every pause and wait time can turn into a lively play time, and play is always more fun when someone else is adding in new ideas and following you down your motorcycle track.  I think he's enjoying this new life.

Eventually, we had to go to the airport, which is in the same city as the zoo.  We did pajamas and brushing teeth in the restaurant bathroom -- ooo, isn't it nice to have another set of hands to help me with confusing things like that!  Then we got in the car, and the girls got all upset because they didn't want to fall asleep and wake up with Daddy gone, but it wasn't that long of a drive and we stayed awake.  Then came the hard part.

Hibiscus declared she was going to "help Daddy" with his suitcases, because she didn't understand she wasn't going anywhere.  Emerson started getting agitated and needing "one more" hug and kiss.  Hibiscus started complaining about this and worrying about that, and giving preparatory little sobs.  Buttercup, who all week has been most worried about Daddy leaving, sat very quietly in her carseat and watched and didn't say anything at all.  Daddy and I made sure all the right things were in the right bags (and forgot to switch something over, of course!).  We put up the back seat and put in the second car seat, so the kids could sleep on the way home.  The kids got more nervous.  They needed one more hug and kiss.  Then they needed one more.  Daddy told them to think about how they would be getting on a plane and coming to America very soon.  They could only think about this moment.  Hibiscus was going with him.  No she wasn't.  Emerson needed ONE MORE hug and kiss.  I reminded Daddy to wave to Buttercup in her seat as he passed, so he wasn't sneaking away from her.  The driver, Yassim, picked up the missing-wheel bag to help him into the terminal.  Hibiscus started to cry for real.  Emerson was going to die without one more hug and kiss.  Daddy got sunscreen in his eye (or was that a tear?) and was trying to not rub it and not look pained as he smiled and waved at the kids and told them he loved them as he walked past.  Hibiscus started to jump up and down, flap her arms, and wail.  I picked up no-more-hugs Emerson and put him in his car seat.  Suddenly the whole situation hit him and he burst out in genuine screams of sadness and terror, which set Hibiscus totally off, and they both were completely hysterical.  Buttercup watched them carefully, debating whether she should start crying too.  Eventually she decided that she felt far too worried and sad to indulge in tears, and just sat quietly, watching and feeling.  We had to wait until Yassim came back again, to drive us away from Daddy.

So he could fly away and our family would once again be separated by most of the world.