Prison

There are certain parts of Uganda that I didn't talk about or write about because I just was surviving.  I think back to my trip, often, and I could truly still talk about it every day.

I was about halfway through my trip when Friday rolled around, and I was struggling.  It had been a slow day with everyone gone at appointments, and I was sitting on the couch, mostly just waiting for time to pass.  The problem with having a lot of time to think is that you have a lot of time to think, which lead to me having a small panic attack of realizing how much time I had left.  A full week + two days seemed completely unmanageable and unsurvivable.

Lanyero had Nelson, one of her security guard friends walk me around the abandoned school.  There was a field where people were playing soccer, and the sunset was beautiful.  It was golden hour, and truly everything glowed.  Nelson took me through the courtyard and showed me the classrooms, while I was careful to avoid crushed glass and watched for dogs so I wouldn't have to touch them.  We looped back around to the road where there were a bunch of kids playing.  They all stared at me, and a few started running back after me--mostly as a joke and probably to see how close they could get to me.

My hair was in a braid and wet, since I had washed it that afternoon.  I was wearing my black rain jacket to avoid getting any mosquito bites.  We meandered back to the several story building, walking through the overgrown grass to get inside.  This structure was made entirely of bricks and entirely falling apart.  Nelson simply said, and now we go up.  Now we go up?  I'm sure my eyes went huge as I slightly panicked about whether the concrete stairs were stable.  We went up to the third floor where there were huge windows and we could see the soccer game going on below.  The sun was setting, and it was beautiful.  The whole time I was slightly nervous the entire building would collapse, but it held, and what a beautiful sight it was.

We walked back and Mary, another one of Lanyero's friends, works as a prison guard, and she wanted to show me where she worked.  At this point, the panic had slightly subsided, but a prison?  I can barely handle that in the U.S.  And yet, still we drove to the prison.  It was night now, and the streets were just as packed as ever.  The entire time I was taking deep breaths, trying not to freak out and panic about the prison and the overwhelming people and everything else.  We walked through the lobby of the police station and made our way back to the cells.  Mary reached over to me and told me not to breath when we got closer to the cells.  In my panicked mind, I didn't quite understand why, but I'm assuming because the inmates use the cell as a toilet.  I looked down the hallway and saw arms frantically waving and a group of imprisoned men started saying hello and waving to me.  I didn't get any closer.  Me and Lillian (she cooked for us while I was there) just stood back.  I was frozen and panicked.  I knew right then that I wasn't going to be able to make it the rest of the trip.  Eventually we finally left, but we still stood and talked in the parking lot for 20 minutes after.  The entire time, I was frozen, feeling like my white skin was a blaring siren to everyone around me.  I went right home and called my mom, limited wifi be danged because I could not handle it alone anymore.

So yes, I still think about Uganda often.  I hyperventilated a lot on that trip, to be honest.  I didn't know that time could crawl or that I could feel so completely and utterly out of place.  I am still unpacking what I learned there.

And now, when people complain about annoying mosquitos, all I think about how I no longer have to take daily anti-malarial medicine.  My hands aren't burned and I don't feel nauseous.  And all they can do is bite me.