I’m at it again, which surprises no one. I am at Nakeseke Core PTC where I am taking photos and videos of the campers and sessions at the IT Camp. Similar to other Peace Corps camps, this camp aims to empower youth (again with the word “empowerment”) to make healthy life choices through the medium of IT, Information Technology. The sessions revolve around basic typing skills, presenting with a powerpoint, the basic functions of a computer, and Microsoft Office. While I am glad to be here and help out, I am also exhausted and wish that I had chosen to stay at home instead for the remainder of this week.
So after the Central Mukono Youth Technical Training I chilled in Jinja for two days and then spent a night in Kampala. I had several errands to accomplish, including transferring 17.35 million shillings from my Barclays account to my supervisor’s account so that we could continue constructing the ICT lab. After filling out the necessary paperwork, the bank teller assured me that the transfer would occur within 2-3 business days. On the 28th, I traveled to the Arua Youth Technical Training to help facilitate the Permagarden session since the Peter Jensen, the Agricultural expert from Peace Corps Ethiopia, had to go to the Gambia. I personally accepted to go to the far West Nile because I wanted to develop my Permagarden skills to bring back to my community.
After spending the rest of that week up there, I went back to my site where I hosted a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer for two days. I mean, by this point I was tired and wanted my own space. Still it was nice to share my site with someone else. However, today literally felt like shit. All I wanted to do for the majority of the day was shout until my throat got sore or punch a bodaman in the face. I needed to expend some energy and I felt as if I just had it with this country. With the logic of an engineering undergrad, I knew that these feelings would pass, but for several hours today all I could think about was spending a few days in my home where I could watch movies, sleep in, read a few books, and maybe resolve the perpetual gassiness that has plagued me for the past 4 weeks.
The anger built up during my usual bike ride from my house to Wobulenzi. It’s always physically easier to bike away from site but mentally more challenging because the people start to recognize me less and less. I also answered my essential Facebook messages and email for a few hours with my internet access, which just depressed me. I got emotional reading the news about the Freddie Gray death and the ensuing riots and looting in Baltimore. I just wanted to be back there and getting to share my love for a city that I hope to live in. Naturally, everyone looked amazing and happy on Facebook and I just felt disgustingly bloated and fat from my gassiness and eating oily Ugandan food from all of the trainings and street food vendors.
My supervisor then called me to inform that he had not yet received the funds in his bank account. I called Barclays customer service and they told me that I had to wait until they resolved the issue. I waited in the Wobulenzi taxi park for a few hours for the takisi to fill, even though riding my bike to the PTC would have been much faster. En route to Nakaseke, the customer service representative called me back and said that the transfer never processed because I crossed out my name. In utter bewilderment, I exclaimed to her that I had the letter “x” in my name (Marvin Roxas), which is how I spell my name. She said that that was no problem and all I had to do was drop everything and travel to the nearest Barclays branch about 3 hours away and sign the form again. Maybe this time I would need to omit the “x” in my last name, which might also invalidate the transfer.
I called me supervisor who asked if I could just go to Kampala tomorrow and sign the form since he had already had the wooden roof frame installed in the lab and the iron sheets wouldn’t arrive until the money was in his account. He worried that the wood might rot from all of the rain during this week. As I got off the takisi at Nakaseke, all I could think about was how karma definitely did not apply to me as a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was as if I wanted to just help out where I could, and Uganda just wanted to dishearten me until I decided to just give up. It hurt even more when someone said that I was just too nice and needed to learn when to say no to people. It was as if they think I’m just a kitenge sheet over a door frame that lets anyone pass through. I’ve said no to a lot of people. My problem lies in the unexpected surprises such as an unsuccessful transfer when I was told that it was successful, assuming that I will drop everything and work on a project days before an event, or immediately prioritize another project when two items on my agenda conflict.
These feelings caused me to push Ugandans in the takisi, ignore those who wanted to converse with me, yell at my supervisor on the phone, and show up in such a foul mood at the IT Camp that almost everyone asked: “Are you alright?” “Wow, you look exhausted!” “Are you mad at me?” “You seem very down.” What could I do? I felt like this swelling rage would burst at any moment. Fortunately, I busied myself with taking photos, a fellow PCV listened to my ranting, and an improv session by the Centre for Creativity and Capacity Development boosted my spirits.
I am exhausted and don’t even know how I’m still making it. I’m just gonna take this month day-by-day, because at times Peace Corps is a thankless job. All that I ask is that peeps just try to understand.
P.S. – At the time of posting, I already feel much better.