Panty Pegs

In the late night/early morning of my going away shin dig, several of my close friends and I were sitting in my friend Victor’s living room bantering back and forth. Among those in attendance was my pal Doreen. Doreen’s family is whom I am staying with in Uganda. While chatting she brought up “panty pegs.” She informed me that while in Uganda I would be using them. The term “panty pegs” struck an inquisitive note in most of my friends; including me. Since being in Uganda I have received several e-mails from those people present at my shin dig inquiring about panty pegs; thus the title of this blog.

In Uganda and I imagine much of the world; people wash their laundry by hand. Many houses employ a “house girl” or maid to do much of the work (cooking, cleaning, and laundry). Washing someone else’s underwear however is unacceptable (understandably so). Thus, it is everyone’s individual duty to wash their own underwear (panties). After washing they are hung in your closet on something similar to a hanger called a “panty peg.” Most of them are either pink or blue.



I hope everyone’s curiosity is satisfied!

Recent Adventures

I have been in Uganda close to one and a half months. Realizing this, I decided that it was time to visit a couple of the Kampala historical sights. Kampala itself is a bustling city with an amazing nightlife, but little in terms of historic places to visit. Most tourist books recommend going outside of Kampala for the “touristy sights.” There are a couple of sights however, and I chose to visit them recently.

The fist sight I visited is The Uganda Museum: A display of Uganda's cultural heritage. It is a vivid reminder of the country's colorful past. One of its most interesting features is the collection of traditional musical instruments, which one is free to play. The Uganda Society’s library is housed in one room of the Uganda National Museum. Started in the 1930’s by a group of scholars, the collection is comprised of approximately 3,000 volumes, maps, periodicals and photographs, all pertaining to African history, culture, sociology, travel and science. In addition to its collection, the library houses the books of the East African Wildlife Society and a number of books from the museum which were given to the society’s care some years ago. The Uganda Museum (founded in 1908) in Kampala has exhibits of traditional culture, archeology, history, science, and natural history. It regularly presents performances of traditional music.



The following day I visited some historic tombs. The Kasubi tombs are one of the burial grounds/royal tombs of the Kabakas of Buganda, and the site is an example of traditional Ganda Architecture, culture and living traditions. The palace was built by Kabaka Mutesa I in 1882 and according to culture, each king was supposed to be buried at a separate site when he died and a royal shrine to house his jawbone which was believed to contain his spirit was to be established at another site. Mutesa I was the 35th King of Buganda (1856-1884) and the first king to be buried in his former palace (the Tombs) at Kasubi without removing his jawbone. Mwanga II who succeeded his father Mutesa in 1884 was the second king to be buried at the Tombs after his remains were brought back from exile (Seychelles islands) in 1910. His son Daudi Chwa II succeeded him at the age of one year in 1896 and ruled until his death in 1939. He too was buried in the Tombs. Daudi Chwa II was succeeded by his son Edward Mutesa II and the then governor of the Uganda protectorate. He died in 1966 in exile (London) and his remains were brought back and buried in the Tombs in 1971.
The Kasubi Tombs is an important Burial site for the Kabakas of Buganda because old traditions were broken at the site when the Kabakas were buried together. Each prince and princess who is a descendant of the four Kabakas is also buried at Kasubi behind the main shrine. The site is important as a cemetery of the royalty of the Buganda kingdom.

The tombs comprise the Bujjabukula (Gatehouse) a beautifully built gate, which is the entrance of the site. It's constructed with wooden columns and a wall made of wooden woven reeds. The gate leads to a small courtyard with a circular house-House of Royal drums (Ndoga-obukaba) where the drums are kept. In the main courtyard, there are several houses built for the widows of the kabakas and other ritual purposes. At Kasubi and all other royal tombs, there is an area behind a back-cloth curtain known as kibira (forest) where the real Tombs of the kabakas are and where certain royal ceremonies are performed like the new moon ceremony and the consultations of the mediums. In front of the curtain, there are raised platforms corresponding to the position of each kabakas tomb behind the curtain. Entrance to the "Secret forest" is only limited to the widows of the Kabakas, the royal family, the Buganda Prime-minister (katikkiro) and the Nalinya (kabakas official sister).
The Kasubi Tombs are adorned with royal regalia like spears, drums, medals, photographs and shields of the kabakas buried there. The structure is supported by wooden poles wrapped in backcloth and the floor covered with grass and palm leaves mats. Backcloth traditionally popular for clothing is a fabric made from the soft back of a fig tree (Ficus natalensis) and has a strong ritual importance to the people of Uganda. Thatching of the roof is carried out by members of the Ngeye clan (colobus monkey clan) ant the decorators of the poles are from the Leopard clan, who are the only people allowed to do this work.
Pregnant women and widows are not allowed to enter the building while its being thatched since this is believed to cause leakage. Similarly, the thatchers are not supposed to have sexual intercourse during the thatching period. The great roof is supported by 52 rings, which represent the 52 clans culture.


Overall, both visits were fun and educational. Anyone whom decides to come visit Uganda should visit both of these sights!

"Drinking Club with a Running Problem"

Within a few days of arriving in Uganda I joined a "drinking club with a running problem" as most people describe it. Florence is the Hash mistress, thus every Monday I go with her and Daphne to run. Generally speaking we run around 6k and then eat and drink. The people in the club are fun and outgoing and really love running.

Following the run we join together in "the circle." In this circle they welcome new comers to the club by making them chug a beer. They then spend time picking on people and making them drink for any reason such as not joining the circle, talking during the circle, or just for fun. After one has been to the club a certain amount of time they give them a Hash name. Generally the names are things such as “Bent Pussy”, “Ebola”, or “Dirty Dick.” One can imagine the crowd!!! I have yet to have been named thus retaining my dignity at this point. Also, if you have new shoes they put beer in the shoe and make you chug it. I luckily have not had that pleasure. I think I would easily throw up! Over all it is a fun lively crowd.

For those of you who know me, I am not a runner. I enjoy sports such as swimming, tennis, or rock climbing. I have never had the endurance it takes to continue running past a mile. Thus, joining this club was a big step for me. I have really enjoyed it thus far and have met a few friends through my horrible attempt at running.

Last weekend I was roped in to running a marathon; courtesy of my Hash colleagues. As cool as a marathon sounds, I chose only to run the 10k. Daphne, Noreen and I finished in a little less than an hour and a half. Pretty horrible, but it was fun. The marathon was for charity and it made it all worth it. All of the proceeds of the marathon are going to North Ugandan Refugee camps.

Sorry for the Inconveniance

Before I came to Uganda I was forewarned that the power frequently goes off. In the States such occurrences happen rarely and usually during a storm or some freak mistake by the power company. In Uganda the government randomly shuts the power off in an effort to conserve energy I suppose. There is never any set time the power will stay off either. It may be two hours and it may be all night. One moment I am blow-drying my hair and the next I am putting it in a pony tail because I could not complete the task.



Living in Uganda is not like living in the States in which there are street lamps and neighboring houses with lights. Thus when the power is shut off, the darkness is a complete blackout leaving no room no maneuver other than ones trusty sense of feel or lack there of in my case. Once it is shut off there is the task of stumbling to the next room to find candles or other like items that might help. It is especially inconvenient when it is shut off while getting ready to go out per say. Luckily however, I was warned and brought my trusty head lamp; that of which has served as a companion.

Nancy Reagan Advises to "Just Say No"

When I was in 9th grade I ate an earth worm for extra credit in a science class. Being that it was worth 100 extra credit points and the mounting pressure from my classmates that had already eaten one I chewed it up and swallowed the little guy with little to no hesitation. Peer pressure is often an amazing incentive and eating a grasshopper here in Uganda is of no exception.



I did my research on Uganda before arriving and thought that I was relatively educated on the culture and food; however no where in any of the research were grasshoppers mentioned. In a conversation one evening Daphne asked me if I had ever eaten an insect. I told her my story of the earth worm. She looked at me in disgust and could not believe I would do such a thing even for extra credit! It was beyond her comprehension. Not even a moment later she, nonchalantly mentions that grasshoppers are good and they are eaten in Uganda frequently. I laughed and shrugged it off as a sarcastic attempt to poke fun of my worm eating adventure.

The following day while we were having a drink at a local restaurant/bar a man strolled by with a container filled with crispy looking things resembling the shell of something fried. Daphne motioned the guy over and he gave us a handful of the fried items on a napkin. Daphne was not fibbing; sprawled out before me were fried grasshoppers! Since I am in a new place I decided to be bold and try one. Much to my surprise they were actually pretty good.

Sold by street vendors and eaten as if they are lays baked potato chips, grasshoppers are indeed a commonly eaten snack. With the head and body in tact, legs pulled off, deep fried, smothered in spices; these little guys serve as a decent appetizer. Apart from the black beady eyes staring at you before you pop them in your mouth and the crunchy dilemma of knowing one is eating a grasshopper, they are better than I would have imagined.

Pictures

I haven't taken a lot of photos since being here, mostly because I have been in the city. Below are a few photos however, and I will post more later. I will be taking a few short trips up country in the coming months and should have more to post.



Introductory Ceremony (prior to wedding)



Me in a Gomes (Traditional Ugandan Dress)



Daphne, Mariam, and Derek



Kampala (the view from my office)



My Backyard



Spine Drive (The Road I Live On)

Are you ready for CHOGM?

One of the very first things that I learned after stepping off of the airplane in Uganda is that The CHOGM is coming. Buildings are being repaired, hotels are being built, and police are out in full force making the streets safe for CHOGM. Local DJ’s are announcing it, taxis are advertising, night clubs talk about it, and the local television stations mention it at least every 10 minutes. It remains nearly impossible to go anywhere in the city without hearing about CHOGM. In fact, a week before CHOGM arrives it has been announced that there will be two days of National Holiday It is even said that it is possible the city may shut down when the CHOGM arrive. The question remains then; what is The CHOGM?

CHOGM is the 56 Heads of States and 5000 delegates that are going to be visiting Uganda on November 22 and 23. The Queen of England and Prince Charles will be among those visiting. Uganda was colonized by the British, thus those that are a part of the common wealth will be here. The government is building new hotels for the Heads of State and removing houses and businesses in certain areas to make the city look cleaner. The problem with this is that many people are being displaced with no where to go or no means to make a living due to this “cleanup.” Also, the government is spending a lot of money to build these nice hotels that will likely not be able to sustain after the CHOGM leave.

Ultimately the following weeks should be very interesting in Uganda due to CHOGM. A city of 2 million people shutting down is hard to believe, however since being here I can understand how it will likely happen. I will be staying in my house because of the hassle and potential danger with protests and such. I will update this as soon as The CHOGM arrive and will let everyone know what happens.

Initial Impression

I have been in Kampala about five days now and have been having a wonderful time. The people are so friendly and welcoming and the food is fantastic. As many of you probably already know, I am an individual whom loves different types of food and experiences, thus I am in the perfect place. Doreen’s mother (Florence) and sister(Daphne) picked me up at the airport and have been showing me around since.

The house in which I am staying is very nice, especially for Ugandan standards. I am sharing a room with Daphine until she leaves for the states in January. Also living in the home is Florence, Noreen, and Sumya. Noreen is an adopted daughter of Florence whom helps around the house and goes to school. Sumya works for Florence and does most of the cleaning and cooking. Both have been so welcoming and friendly; I could not have asked for a better place to stay.

Since being here I have been learning how to take minibuses and boda boda’s. Minibuses are the main transportation I will be taking. They are little vans that drive around going to different places. They are usually between 500 and 1000 shillings which end up being between 25 and 50 cents. Generally speaking they are kind of slow; however they will get you anywhere very cheaply. They often pack 15 or more in to one bus. Boda boda’s have been my favorite thus far, although are the most dangerous. They are little motorcycles that will also take you anywhere. Due to the road conditions and the heavy traffic, they are not very safe. Boda boda’s are good to take when you are in a hurry because the driver’s are crazy and will swerve through anything. It is sort of like riding an amusement park ride, however are much more likely to kill you.



Boda Boda



Mini Bus

Roads here are mostly dirt, and those that are not may as well be because of the pot holes. Florence told me that “if you see a car driving straight you know they are drunk.” This is due to the pot holes. Cars are swerving constantly to miss them. I am absolutely stunned that people are able to get around as much as they do, especially in the rainy season. They manage however, and I have a new sense of what types of roads non-four wheel drive cars are able to handle.

The term used for me here by many people, especially kids, is mazoonga (white girl). Although the official language in Uganda is English, many and most people will frequently speak in Luganda. I have no problem communicating because they all know English, but I will often be in a taxi and hear people speaking. When I hear Mazoonga I know they are talking about me. Daphne is currently doing an internship at a newspaper here, thus she has passes to a lot of events. On my second night here she took me to a press party at a club. I had a fantastic time. They had two performers who are like pop stars come and perform (Julliana and Camilla). While I was there however, the press kept following me around taking pictures because I was the only Mazoonga there. It was very entertaining.



Daphne and I



Katanga, Daphne, Florence, and I

Also, when I arrived Florence had a traditional Ugandan dress called a Gomes made for me. I attended what they call an introductory ceremony with Daphne. It is a pre-wedding ceremony in which the parents are introduced. It was several hours long of dancing and random stuff I could not understand. The boy’s family offered the girls family a-lot of gifts; that of which included a half of a cow, chicken, stove, and lots of other random items.

Any how, these are just a few of the things since I have been here. I will update shortly on more interesting events and experiences.

In Route

Most of those reading this blog already know that I have recently moved to Uganda. I arrived in Kampala after a grueling 40 hour transit. I left Salt Lake City on Monday November 5th at 10:00 a.m. and arrived in Uganda on November 7th at 2:30 p.m. Granted, many of those hours were spent in airports during layovers, however the layover’s seemed longer then flying. The entire journey was not horrible however. I was able to spend 9 hours in Dubai which was definitely the most interesting airport that I have ever been in.

Dubai is located in the Middle East near Kuwait. I was a bit nervous flying there due to all of the things going on in the Middle East and it being obvious that I am a white American girl traveling alone. My layover there turned out to be very interesting however, and I have left there with a new prospective. I met several people in the airport that I spent a good amount of time chatting with and having coffee.

One such person was from Iraq but lived in the UK. He had been on holiday visiting his family and was waiting to catch a flight back to the UK. It was intriguing speaking with him because his family still lived in Iraq; however he had been gone for 11 years. He had no desire to return for good and wishes his family would leave, however they are content and love Iraq. He talked about how lucky he was to have been able to leave and wishes more had the same opportunity.

Another individual was also from Iraq and was fleeing to China. I was sitting reading a book when he passed by and abruptly stopped and looked at me. He came and sat next to me and enthusiastically asked me if I was an American. He was an eighteen year old whom had never been on an airplane and was leaving for what he hoped was forever. He spent some time talking about the war and the many dangers that he faces daily. He talked about the many bombs and people that he has seen killed. Unlike many people in Iraq, he loved the Americans and it was his dream to go to America. He told me how he has spent much time researching the facts and feels that most Iraq people are blind to what is really going on. I exchanged e-mails with both of them and will hopefully get updates on their adventures. Over all, the short time that I spent in Dubai was a great learning experience. Almost everyone was very friendly and I did not run in to any problems.

List of Acronyms and & Text Messaging Shorthand: Interesting Indeed

Recently I went to a conference in which a myriad of items were discussed involving today's teens. One of the presentations that I sat in on was "Connecting with Teenagers and Technology." I consider myself pretty knowledgeable involving technology, especially text messaging. It is a communication style that I frequently use. The presenter passed out a huge list of acronyms and shorthand for text messaging. I was shocked!!! I never knew there were so many, and I was especially surprised by what some of the short hand stood for. So, without further adieu, below is a list of some of them. I hope that everyone finds them as amusing and disturbing as I do.

2bz4uqt=too busy for you cutey
2g2b4g=too good to be forgotten
2g2bt=too good to be true
4eae=forever and ever
4nr=foreigner
8=oral sex
9=parent is watching
99=parenting is no longer watching
aaf=as a friend
adbb=all done bye bye
adih=another day in hell
afdn=any fucking day now
atab=aint that a bitch
awgthtgttsa=are we going to have to go through this shit again
bsaaw=big smile and a wink
btfo=back the fuck off or bend the fuck over
dyhab=do you have a boyfriend
dyhag=do you have a girlfriend
esadyfa=eat shit and die you fucking asshole
esmf=eat shit mother fucker
f2f=face to face
fmuta=fuck me up the ass
fo=fuck off
galgal=get a load of her
gap=got a pic
gbh=great big hug
gos=gay or straight
gyhooya=get you head out of your ass
gypo=get your pants off
iliciscomk=i laughed, i cried, i spat/spit coffee/crumbs/coke on my keyboard
ipn=i'm posting naked
ish=insert sarcasm here
its=intense text sex
jeomk=just ejaculated on my keyboard

Anyhow, I think you get the point. The presenter passed out at leas 10 pages of shorthand similar to this. My question is who in the hell comes up with these? Also, how do they know what they stand for? ISH=insert sarcasm here? Why is it not I sleep here or various other things it could be? Some of them are very obvious but for those that are not who uses them and why? Also, are not some of them fairly disturbing? Anyway, there is my rant for the day.

Chopstick Disaster

It has recently come to my attention that chopsticks are of the devil! Okay, using the devil as a reference to chopsticks may be a bit exaggerated, but there is an important point here. Chopsticks are contributing to the demise of our environment. Don’t get me wrong; I am a fan of Chinese food and Japanese food. I will even go as far as to declare Sushi as my favorite cuisine. I never pass up an opportunity to get Sushi. There is something special about the ambiance that a Sushi restaurant provides, aside from the delicious food; something of a hip, healthy, and smooth vibe. I am guilty of partaking of using chopsticks as much as anyone, if not more. In all my years of partaking of the slice of heaven referred to as Sushi, not once did I stop to think about how many chopsticks are used on a daily basis in one restaurant, let alone the world!

Take a moment to ponder the amount of chopsticks being thrown away on a daily basis in one city alone. Once you are able to wrap your mind around that, think about the amount used in one state, in one country, and then worldwide! It is not Sushi restaurants alone however; it is Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and so on. These wooden utensils are made from trees, a resource that is being rapidly depleted. Rain forests are disappearing at an alarming rate, yet billions of chopsticks are being manufactured every day and wrapped in once again paper; another product created from trees! Although it seems like a minor offense due to the small size of chopsticks, it is a problem spanning across the world only contributing to the depletion of trees. What do we do to stop the amount of waste that wooden chopsticks create? Should we boycott going to restaurants that provide chopsticks or only use forks? Neither of those seem very fair. There is a solution however, reusable chopsticks!

Reusable chopsticks are not a difficult concept. In reality it is an environmentally friendly, financially sound, and socially acceptable solution. The sheer amounts of waste that would be saved from restaurants and individuals investing in a pair of reusable chopsticks seem logical. Restaurants would have to pay more up front to purchase reusable chopsticks, but would save money in the end. Most nice restaurants use washable napkins anyway. Why not provide reusable chopsticks wrapped in washable napkins and do our parts for the environment and save some money? We don’t have to give up our love of different cuisine, we can purchase our own chopsticks and take them with us to use if the restaurant does not provide reusable chopsticks.

Now that I have spent some time ranting and attempting to persuade people to stop using wooden chopsticks, everyone go buy a pair of reusable chopsticks, and enjoy a nice sushi roll filled with orgasmic pleasures!

Seven ways at looking at the man and woman in the Red Door

1.) Amongst a room of about 20 unsuspecting individuals the man sits with his stomach turning, while covering it up with constant chatter. His stomach turns with the unknown thought of the woman sitting across from him.

2.) A woman scans the room nervously afraid to glance at the individual sitting across from her for reasons unsuspecting to the naked eye.

3.) The candles and lamps burn dimly as the room of 20 talks amongst themselves. Some notice a couple in the corner that appear to be on a date while others search the room for a possible new person to meet. Others drink their dirty martinis, paying no attention to anyone other than those familiar faces in which are near.

4.) A bar tender scurries across the bar serving numerous martinis to individuals scattered every which way. He puts on a smile while unsuspectingly running around frantically in hopes of making some much needed money on tips and praying silently not to make a mistake as too possibly get behind. He brings a third glass of red wine to the man sitting across from the woman; she is still on her first. What will he tip at the end of the evening?

5.)A woman glances through a crowd in the dim room over and over while searching through her thoughts. She is bored, it is not working out, and she needs a scapegoat. There is a door leading outside, a bathroom trapping her for a while, and a bunch of unfamiliar faces in which cannot help her in her awkward state. Which if any does she choose?

6.) A man sits in the cold outside the Red Door near a curb on 2nd and Main. His eyes wonder into the seemingly cozy room in which people are throwing their money away as if it is nothing. His eyes slowly move from individual to individual watching every move with thoughts of selfishness running through his mind. One individual is on his third glass of wine. He could use that money to buy food.

7.) A doorman sits on a stool checking ID’s as people walk in. He glances over at the two girls on the couch that seem very young. Did he check their ID’s? They came in around the time that the man and the woman on the other side of the room did. It’s to late now, he doesn’t want to bother with the possible hassle they may give him. They aren’t causing any harm. They are simply sipping a couple of martinis and giving the bar tender some much needed money. He will ignore them because no one else has said anything.

Tales of muppets, rock stars, and paleontologists

Bri and I decide to take a stroll down to Wild Oats Market to participate in a well known little sport called people watching. We purchase some salad and soup and then go to the top floor in which a view of the entire store and everyone in it is accessible

First comes Beaker. You know…beaker the Muppet? Yes… there is an employee of Wild Oats Market that looks remarkably like beaker. Next is bread boy. He analyzes and investigates every loaf of bread as if it is a choice that will lead him to his death if not cautious. He picks one loaf of bread continues to walk away and abruptly stops turns and chooses a different loaf of bread on several different occasions. Finally after repeating the analyzing, investigating, choosing, and returning he decides on the very first one he chose.

Next is all the intriguing little kids running around. We have a family that consists of Rocks Star and Paleontologist. The little girl of about age 3 has tight spandex pants that have designs of stars all over, a cool shirt, long blonde hair, and sunglasses. She pushes a little cart around following her mother and brother paleontologist. Paleontologist carries with him a fanny pack, tight beige pants that go to his belly button and glasses. An interesting duo indeed!

Then comes along Beanie Girl, she has the coolest little outfit ever, talks like a Muppet, and pushes a mini cart around that reads, “customer in training.” She stands next to the boy who looks like the kid off Jerry Maguire. Yes…it’s all true. Beanie Girl then proceeds to pick up off the floor what looks like a dried apricot, she tugs on her mother’s shirt to show her. I proceed to tell Bri that I hope Beanie Girl doesn’t eat the strange item on the floor, the next thing I know the mother of Beanie Girl grabs the item and eats it herself!

Needless to say it was a wonderful day of people watching in which I hope to do again soon!

The Illusionist

Have you ever sat in a movie theater with a bunch of friends watching one of those so called "scary movies?" The one that is so ridiculous that it can't be taken seriously. Rather than be categorized as a horror film it should really be in the comedy section. Dawn of the Dead is one of those films. It became a "cult classic" due to its attempt at being scary but only accomplishing laughter. Of course when you are sitting in a big theater surrounded by people laughing with you it is truly funny.

Everything changes when you are in your downstairs basement all alone at midnight watching the same movie that months earlier made you cry from so much laughing. This time it is different. The possibilities of the ridiculous things being portrayed in the movie seem logical when you are alone. Mutated mountain men in the West Virginia hills are actually on their way to your basement to slay you with an axe. Even worse, the boogie man really does exist and he is waiting for the opportune time to attack. Butterflies begin to swarm around in your stomach, multiplying with every second that passes. You start looking around to see if something is going to jump out at you. Wait a minute; was that a shadow on the wall? Holy mother of God, there is a strange sound coming from behind you. Finally it is too much! You jump up, turn the lights on, shut the TV off, run to your room, and jump under your covers. The same mind frame of when you were five comes rushing back. Of course if you get under your covers that demon that lives under your bed can't possibly retrieve you.

The mind is an amazing thing. Its capabilities are far reaching, delving into realms that have yet to be discovered. The roles it takes on vary in shape and size. It can be a best friend creating logical justification helping you sleep better at night, a teacher that is constantly helping to process information in a relative format to your frame of thoughts, an enemy that betrays everything you once knew; you mean Pluto isn't a planet, and an illusionist that bring to life the phrase "the mind plays tricks on the eyes."

There we were the dynamic duo Bri and Jessica crossing the bridge for our routine game of tennis. We were determined to one day become professional tennis players. It seemed to be a likely scenario being that we played every day. It didn't matter that we had only begun playing several weeks prior to this night. We were destined to go down in history as undefeated Wimbledon champions. The Williams sisters were no skin off our backs. They would never encounter as fierce competitors as Bri and I. We were beginning our practice this particular evening a little later than usual. As we walked by the abandoned dorms near the highly anticipated tennis courts, Bri noticed a light on in one of the third floor dorms. It was a curious situation being that the dorms were scheduled to be torn down.

It was also an ironic situation being that earlier that day the tales of Ted Bundy having been a RA in these dorms years earlier had been swarming around. Bri and I glanced at each other with a bit of nervousness residing in our eyes, but quickly began to laugh as our minds logical side took a grip. We continued walking past the dorms, checking the doors to see if maybe a homeless man had invaded the abandoned building. None of the doors were open; the situation quickly became more intriguing. We had a tennis game to catch however, so our investigation had to come to an end. We quickly changed the subject of conversation and continued along toward our destination residing only moments away. After all, the lights only stayed lit for another three hours; it was imperative that we rush to be able to fit in a grueling tennis practice. Being number one at Wimbledon would be no easy task and take a lot of dedication. We were not so naive that we didn't realize this.

After an exhilarating game of tennis, Bri and I began our journey home. It was only about a 15 minute walk, one in which we had done frequently. This time however, it was dark and a bit intimidating. As we walked past the abandoned dorms both Bri and I were a bit nervous noticing that another light was on. How could this be? We had checked all the doors previously and none of them were open. We both were thinking the same thing, but didn't want to say it due to the reaction it would likely bring. We strolled past the dorms as if neither of us were secretly glancing over our shoulders to find the perpetrator that was likely hiding in the bushes waiting for Bri and me to walk past again. We continued our conversation about the song "complicated" by Avril Lavine when suddenly I felt someone grab my hand urging me to follow.

Bri had grabbed my hand in an effort to pull me along as she began to run. My heart stopped! I had never heard a more shrilling scream come from anyone, let alone Bri. This was a serious situation. I had heard of the rush of adrenaline that comes over a person in an emergency situation before, but had never experienced it until this moment. I ran as if I was an Olympic athlete. I had never been so motivated in my life. I was sure this was the end of my life. Thoughts of Ted Bundy mutilating my body and burying it in a discrete location in the hills filled my head. Would anyone notice that Bri and I had gone missing? Would I get caught and Bri get away? All of this occurred in a mere two seconds, but it seemed like it had easily been much longer when Bri dropped to the ground in laughter.

I was so confused. As I turned to look over my shoulder there was no one there, except a parking meter! I instantly knew that Bri and I had been the victims of a parking meter, not the contrived man hiding in the bushes. I also dropped to the ground in laughter. After the mirth had subsided Bri and I lied on the hard pavement catching our breaths from what we had full heartedly believed to be the end of our Wimbledon dreams and even worse our lives! Just imagining the horrible things that a Ted Bundy copycat would likely do to Bri and I was enough to offer someone a heart attack. A sense of relief permeated me until Pumpkin (a well known dorm mate of ours) walked past and waved. Had he seen everything that went on? Had he heard our shrilling screams of fear and death?

After lying on the pavement under the street lamp composing ourselves, we decided to venture the remainder of the route home never to mention our experience to anyone. Pumpkin also known as Justin, never said anything to us about that night. We will never know if he witnessed the trick of the illusionist. To this day, when I see a parking meter, which happens frequently, I grin at our painstakingly comical event.

Peruvian Delight Day 1

Adventures of this caliber are difficult to describe with the vigor that it deserves. Having extended this disclaimer before hand, I will attempt to put into words my AMAZING trip I recently took. Peru is a small country located in Western South America. It is bordered by Ecuador, Columbia, Brazil, Bolivia, Chili, and the Pacific Ocean. Don’t be fooled however, although small, it is a country filled with astonishing sites and geography surpassed by few. Peru is a country abundant with rich unique culture and heritage woven by many denominations of ethnicities including Amerindians, Africans, and Spanish. The primary language spoken is Spanish, although there are a myriad of native languages such as Quechua spoken throughout the country. Knowing very little about Peru other then having heard of Machu Picchu and my brother having recently moved there, I was in for nothing less then a spectacular journey starting at sea level and ending at a sheer 12,507 feet (figuratively and literally).

My journey began with a long arduous day of airport adventure (as I am sure many of you can relate). My flight left the Salt Lake City airport around 6:30 a.m., placing me in the Atlantic Georgia airport at noon. I had a five hour layover in which I spent most of the time curled up in a ball sleeping. I then boarded my plane for a grueling seven hour flight to Lima Peru. Getting off of the flight and going though customs and immigrations was quite possibly the most taxing part of my day. Customs itself took over an hour to get through, teaching me my first lesson of Peru. Peruvians take their time! I had received a message from my brother prior to boarding my flight indicating that he would be sending an Embassy car to pick me up. I would be able to recognize the driver because he should be holding a sign holding my name. I naively expected to walk out of the airport and see my driver immediately. After all, how many signs could there be? Hundreds is the answer! I walked out to a frenzy of sign holders, people asking me if I needed a taxi, others seemingly beckoning me in Spanish (that of which I don’t speak or understand). Luckily, after standing there confused and dazed for a moment, my brother popped up. He was a welcoming sight for the weary.

My initial impression of Lima was not what I had expected. I had been preparing myself for a very poor country with dirt roads and kids on the street corner begging. I later learned that I was not entirely wrong, in fact mostly correct according to the majority of Peru. The area in which we drove and my brother lives however was very modern. There were clubs, casinos, restaurants (Chili’s), and modern cars. The driving was something to be hold however. Driving in Peru is not unlike most underdeveloped countries I suppose; unsafe and crazy! Driving in Peru demands that you be on your toes at all times and you must be both an offensive and defensive driver. Another striking observation was that Peruvians will not stop for pedestrians. They will run you over, this is no exaggeration. After what I deemed a miracle, we arrived at my brother’s home safe and sound.

I woke to a beautiful sun filled day and my nephew staring at me. Being the responsible one that my brother is, he was at work. My sister in-law had a meeting that she was at. Thus, it was Caleb, Aurora (the maid), and I. My brother’s house is located only a few moments walk from a spectacular view of the ocean. Not being able to contain my excitement of being in a new place and only moments away from the Ocean I told Aurora (in as many words as I could because she only speaks Spanish) that I was going to take a walk and find the Ocean. I asked her how to say Coffee in Spanish and I was on my way. I was greeted along the way by random pedestrians with “Hola, Buenos Dias,” hello, and good morning. After a few moments I had my first phrase in Spanish down. Next was the obstacle of ordering Coffee. I never imagined doing something as simple as ordering coffee could be so nerve racking. I understood for the first time what it must be like for people living in the US without knowing English. I went to a corner café and listened politely to the cashier greet me and then politely replied with the only phrase I knew, “Hola, Buenos dias. Café con leche?” She quickly understood that I was a dumb American that could barely spit out the phrase, “hello, and good morning. Coffee with milk? She politely smiled and gave me some coffee. First goal accomplished!

I continued my stroll toward the ocean with my “café con leche” in hand. Along the way I was sure to be careful while crossing the street. As aforementioned; Peruvian driving is chaotic at minimum. Aside from the virtual game of hopscotch that I skillfully participated in with the thousands of cars while crossing an intersection; I was solicited a myriad of times by buses appearing shanty at best resembling somewhat of a clown car by way of dangerously overcrowding itself with people. Having declined risking my life in any of the shanty clown buses, I finally arrived at my destination. The view itself was somewhat of a distance from the ocean. There was a boardwalk streaming across the city of Lima, I don’t know how far it reached. Along the board walk were beautiful purple flowers and trees. I sat on a brick fence for a moment pondering the surreal reality that I was in a different country and at the moment alone in a city of people that I could not communicate with. The feeling was one of enthusiasm, excitement, and curiosity.



As I gazed at the ocean and the city below me, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A man of short stature and an aged face murmured something directed at me. I politely informed him that I did not speak Spanish. He smiled in a welcoming manner and pointed to the brick wall. I replied with a smile and hand gesture indicating that he was welcome to sit next to me. He began talking to me as if we had long been friends. I did not understand what he was saying apart from a few muddled words I was able to distinguish from my Spanish I class in high school. Although little was understood language wise, we had a marvelous conversation using facial expressions, body language, and hand gestures. I understood that he was a student with hopes to move to the United States sometime in the future. I explained to him that I had a brother living here and I was on vacation. As he continued to speak I glanced at my watch and realized that my sister in-law would be home shortly. Being that it was my first day in Peru I thought she would probably be worried about me if I was not home when she returned. I thanked the man for a delightful time and expressed that I had to leave. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and we parted.

I arrived at my brother’s home to be greeted by Aurora. She informed me that Seniora Linsey had called and was on her way home. When Linsey arrived Caleb and I were in the living room reading Cat in the Hat or some sort of like book. She asked if I would be interested in going to lunch with her and an American friend. I excitedly agreed. We walked to the street corner and hailed a cab. I was taught another important lesson at this moment. When getting a taxi, always negotiate. She gave me the run down of average prices. The first taxi we hailed attempted to give us an above average price because we were two white girls. He assumed we were tourists and didn’t know better. He was half correct; I was a tourist and would not have known any better had I not been informed moments earlier. Linsey on the other hand had been in Lima for close to 9 months and was very well aware of how things are run in Peru.

We met her friend outside of her apartment complex. We decided being that it was my first day in Peru that we would walk. The area we walked in was also a very nice part of Peru. There were Peruvians dressed in business attire walking around in the bustling city. We stopped at a small sandwich shop not far from where we began. Although Lima itself is not known for its sight seeing, the food is something to be admired. Generally speaking the food I encountered in Lima exploded with orgasmic flavors, not excluding this meal! Linsey ordered a traditional drink for me. She explained that Peruvians love this drink called “Chicha.” It looked like grape juice, but tasted nothing of the like. It is made of corn. Although my sister in-law adamantly discarded it as gross, I remained neutral. I wouldn’t order it again, but I did not dislike it. Peruvians however LOVE it; along with Inca Cola (to be discussed later). After lunch we took a taxi back to the house in which we arrived home shortly before my brother. We spent the remainder of the evening catching up and just hanging out. I took a small stroll with my brother to the corner café in which I had visited earlier that day for dinner. We ordered some empanada’s that of which were delightfully delicious and chatted about nonchalant items. I retired to bed that evening having been pleased with my relaxed yet exciting day in Peru.

I'm not interesting enough to be a television character

As most of you have probably noticed being that you are currently reading this, the title of this blog is, "I'm not interesting enough to be a television character." This notion dawned on me in an evening of cocktails and deep contemplation about the philosophies of life according to Jessica and Casandra. As one can imagine, not many of the philosophies made much sense. Among those philosophies involved one important conversation however, about the characters in the television series Sex and the City.

Casandra began by making the very important point that when most people compare themselves to any character in Sex and the City they usually say they are a combination of Carrie and someone else. Although Casandra was not comparable to a character in Sex in the City, she definitely fit the profile of a myriad of other television characters as do many of my friends. It then dawned on me that this was not the scenario for me. Both Casandra and I contemplated for a long while about any character I would fit. In the end we still came up with nothing. Thus, I have been in search of a title character that I can relate to. I have yet to discover it. Our evening ended on the premise that I am indeed not interesting enough to be a television character!