Success!

Putting the modem in timeout for the weekend did the trick - it's sufficiently repentant (it's working).  Actually, I'm sure that Orange just had an issue on Friday and resolved it after I left for the retreat, but I much prefer to personify things.

More on the retreat later - about 30 minutes after I got back, I had to leave for the international students' association meeting/welcome tea for the first year students.  I'm beat.  But we had a wonderful, if incredibly hot, weekend.

Next up:  see whether Photobucket and I are going to remain friends, so that I can post slideshows rather than photos one-by-one.

Modem madness, retreat, aaaaand... the kids are back

My modem has decided that it hates me, and refuses to work.  I have no idea why.  The last time it (mis)behaved like this was when it thought that I needed to buy more airtime.  But I purchased three months worth about two weeks ago.  'tis a mystery.  I’m imagining that I’ve put the modem in time-out so that it can think about what it’s doing (or not, as it were), so that when we return on Sunday evening, it can behave the way it should.  I desperately want this to happen because I don’t have time to go to the Orange Shop in town, nor do I feel like talking to customer support and trying to troubleshoot this on the phone.  For me, African accents are harder to discern on the phone.

Thankfully, we do have access to the UCU wireless network up here on the top of the hill; in semesters past, it didn't reach this far.  And aghast as I am, it's unlocked - I've not registered this laptop with the IT guys, yet I can access the net.  Count me aghast and grateful.  It's pokey, but works.  Don't even think about how long it took to upload this image.

Something I learned this morning is that UCU has banned Facebook from the hours of 9am-5pm.  I only learned this when I tried to refresh my screen while I was on the UCU net.  I think this is 1. Brilliant, as at any point in time, go to either the dining hall, or any computer lab and all you’ll see is a sea of blue and white.  I’m sure that placed a serious drain on the network, hence the decision.  Imagine how crippling it is to the student population, however.  Which is why I also think this is 2. Hysterical.  I usually think of employers banning pages like Facebook, not schools.

We are indeed going on retreat this weekend, and I think it’ll be at the same place we were last year.  The lovely place, which in addition to being beautiful, has excellent food, and where, unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well.  We’ll try again.  The Honours College kids are also going on retreat, so it’s a bit unfortunate that all of us will be gone at the same time.

Their retreat is this weekend because the USPs have just finished their two-week homestay, and so that means that they’re back, and so is the decibel level.  Actually, they were around the dorms during the day, showering and doing wash, so it wasn’t like they were completely gone.  Now that they’re adjusting to being here, perhaps some of the completely understandable squealing epiphanies will diminish.  Please, God?  I’m actually happy they’re back, but I’m old.  I like quiet when I want to sleep. 

Sad news

I received, and slept through, a text around 11:00 last night letting me know that Rev. Moses had passed away.  Dan Button, one of the American lecturers here, let me know, and said it was difficult to comprehend.  I completely agree.  This photo is from last year's theology retreat; Rev Moses is on the right.  We're supposed to be going on retreat this coming weekend.

I would normally expect burial to be possibly Wednesday (there's no embalming here, and burial typically happens fairly quickly, unless the deceased is important), but it's a public holiday.  I don't know whether that has any bearing on plans as this.


Please pray for Rev. Moses' family, his church, and the school as we all grieve.  Please especially pray for the school, who must now pick up his teaching load, as the timetable still isn't worked out, and this adds more stress and improbability of getting logistics worked out.

Please pray for Rev. Moses Rwothmewo

Rev. Moses Rwothmewo (pronounced Roth-o-me-o) is one of the lecturers here at UCU.  I had him for Theory and Practice of Mission my first semester, and after reading my first paper, he told me he wanted to see me become a pastor in this country.


Sometime Thursday/Friday, Rev. Moses suffered a stroke.  Details have been sketchy, but yesterday, the doctors were hoping to be able to repair the errant blood vessel.  Sunday night, Rev. Moses slipped into a coma, so surgery clearly is out of the picture.


We are all hurting in this.  Rev. Moses is of the more practical lecturers, and is rather popular.  He studied at Trinity School for Ministry for a year, and I'm wondering if he came to All Saints' when a group of the Ugandan students studying at Trinity came through a couple years ago.


I've sent prayer requests to the prayer room as well, and will keep you posted as I know more.

Clinic and sleeping computers

After three weeks of this annoying earache and sore throat and occasional tight breathing (bronchitis-like), I finally went to the clinic.  It was much like going to see my primary care physician in the US... sat around for quite some time waiting for the doc, who was very nice, and saw me for 7.8 seconds and prescribed meds.  So now I have an antibiotic, vitamin C, and something that I suspect is a painkiller, but since Mr. Google isn't coughing up anything definitive about it, I'm not taking it.


I took my laptop to class so my group could (hopefully) finish our assignment on Jesus the Good Shepherd (hope deferred), and when we were done, I closed the laptop without shutting it down.  Emmanuel asked me what I did, and I told him I put it to sleep.  He said he hoped it didn't snore.  Me too, for that matter!

Honeymoon's over

First, I'm going to stop talking about the weather, because now we're back to wretched hot, and I simply can't keep track.  The only options are hot and shiny and cool and rainy anyhow, so let's just imagine that it's really January in all it's hot and shiny glory, and I'll let you know when rainy season really starts.  The only good part of hot and shiny is that my towel that I washed the other day and put on the line dripping wet (because I don't have the manual dexterity to wring it like I should) dried in about three hours flat.


The timetable honeymoon is over.  Three classes gave us a bye last week, and one never started, so we were only in class half time.  It was g l o r i o u s (cue happy bird-chirping music).  I finished two assignments and got excellent starts on two others.  But now, we'll be in class 28 hours a week, with 8 of those hours occurring on Monday.  


So let me go review those two assignments so I can pretend to find time to print them tomorrow.  This is when Jan Karon would write, "Philippians 4:13, for Pete's sake!"

Let the contesting begin

First, I'd like to retract my statement that it appears to be the rainy season.  Today was fairly shiny (hot), and it appears that the January heat has arrived.  I'd say "praise the Lord," but I'm really not that enthusiastic about it.  This is when it's good to live on a mountain.  I'm sure it's cooler here than in Kampala.


The contesting is for the Guild (school government).  The announcement went out for people to pick their nomination forms today, which then must be signed by a passel of people and verified with their registration cards to prove that they actually exist and are registered students.  Then will come the manifestos, speeches, posters, and who knows what else.  Don't even get me started on local/national politics - I'll never be so glad to have an election finished as when this one is in February.  Africans make our political rhetoric look petty.  I think there are nine candidates for president.  You can't move an inch without seeing posters plastered everywhere, and no, they won't disappear at any point in time save for environmental intervention.  Mercy.


Back to the Guild elections.  Each faculty gets two representatives, and I think ours have been chosen (as in only two are running), so that's one less election choice.  My former roommate, Joan, has decided to contest for one of the two International MP (Members of Parliament, one can never forget the British influence) seats.  I'm thrilled for her, and think she will do a fabulous job if elected - there are five candidates. 


She told me her news this afternoon, and I told her I'd introduce her to the international theologians, and she was grateful.  So she found me at supper, and I made the rounds with her.  Since she's my friend, all my theologian friends agreed to vote for her.  It's a bit humbling how my friends take my word that Joan is a woman of integrity; for her sake, I just wish my sphere of influence extended beyond the theologians.

Lulu, a Kenyan athlete, sat with us, and the plotting began on how to talk to the athletes, because they're notoriously difficult to convince on anything.  Really?  I had no idea.  I just see them running in the morning.  My friend Haron will go with her to talk with a gaggle of Kenyan students he knows who stay outside in one of the hostels, and let them spread the word.  I mean, the serious campaigning hasn't even begun, and I feel like we were plotting to overthrow the campus.


So we moved around the dining hall, looking for various internationals I knew so I could introduce Joan.  A number of my friends saw us, and have deigned me her campaign manager, which simply won't do.  


Then my friend and course mate, Isaac, asked me who all the foreign students were.  Foreign?  I'm FOREIGN?!  He quickly repented, and now I have something to tease him about for the rest of the semester.  Poor guy.  He really did feel awful.  And while I told Joan I'd help her in any way I can, I really, really, really don't want to be her campaign manager.

Stairs

I finally took pictures of the incline getting up to Josephine Tucker, my dorm.  First, here’s a shot of (some of) the Honours College.  We climb the hill to get to the parking lot.  If we’re coming from the left, there’s a hop over a culvert that gets us to the parking lot on less of an incline.  I am not terribly fond of that hill because the catering vans drive up and down it constantly, which means it’s in a perpetual state of dust.  Dust is slippery.

From the parking lot is this little set of stairs; Rachel Hall, the dorm I was in my first semester, is on the left.  I didn’t frame this well, because there should be one more step on the bottom, probably due to erosion.  So I use the mudslide on the left to get me up to the first step.  If it’s really, really wet, I’ll walk around to the right and walk up the grass.

Next is this set of stairs (Rachel Hall is still slightly visible to the left, and you can see Josephine Tucker peeking in the top left).  Winfred Brown, the dorm for my second and third semesters, is behind left of Rachel Hall.  These stairs aren’t heinous, though the second set is a bit more steep.  I usually come down the stairs, but climb the mudslide.  But only when it’s dry.  Straight ahead is Thelma Hall, which is used by the catering guys to make food to take to the hostels outside the gate (hence the catering van activity), as well as everyone and their brother when they want to have food in conjunction with a meeting.

Walk past Thelma, and ta-da!  The stairs to Josephine Tucker.  I have no idea what the big, concrete cylinder is.  There’s a drainage pipe at the top on the other side, so I imagine it functioned as some kind of water tank at some point in its life, but now it looks like it was covered with concrete fondant.  Can you tell I watched a couple episodes of Cake Boss during the long holiday?  LOVE that show!

So these are the stairs that keep my heart rate elevated.  And when I don’t feel well, like now, with a sore throat and ear ache (Mom, I’m FINE), I really try to economize the number of times a day I traipse up and down these puppies.  And yes, the couch on the porch is a bit dilapidated, but that doesn’t stop some from using it.  I take a pass.

No supervisor, no problem

During the long holiday when I was in the US, I did my block placement (field work) at Christ Our Lord Anglican Church in Lake Ridge, and had a wonderful experience there.  While we’re on block placement, our school supervisors are supposed to come visit and observe us, as they do during the semester.  Clearly, no one was coming to do that for me.  Nor do I think anyone visited the Nigerian student, but I know the Kenyans had a visit.  At least one of them did.  Now I’m wondering about the Tanzanians, but I’m digressing.

Last week I was on chapel duty, and I must say, I’m utterly delighted to have it completed.  I enjoy serving in the chapel, but as the semester goes on, getting the team together and getting people to do what they’re supposed to becomes increasingly aggravating.  So I served on the first Sunday evening Eucharist (I think Canon Moses picked people he thought would be around at the beginning, as students tend to trickle in during the first two weeks), and then three other times, ending on Sunday night.  Yes, that was a lot.  There were like 12 of us on the rota, and I’m not entirely convinced that everyone did something, and I digress again.

Friday night, the team lead, Canon Sunday Mejulu, asked me to lead the service.  That’s fine, even though someone else had been assigned that job.  Saturday night, I asked who was going to pick the hymns.  Apparently that was my job too.  That’s also fine.

So, we had the service, and everyone followed along well, despite my accent.  The worst part of the service was when I had to read the names of the team for the following week (which runs from Monday to Sunday, hence having a longer week than normal.  Can I get points for that?).  African surnames generally don’t stick to me.  So I asked forgiveness in advance, and apparently, didn’t murder anyone’s name too badly.  Or not that anyone’s willing to admit: there are few who will tell me something like that.

On Monday, my friend Henry asked if anyone had come to supervise me during block placement (nope).  Henry is kind of like a father figure for the class; he’s a voice of reason, which we desperately need.  So after learning that I went my entire block placement not being supervised, he told me that I led the service very well, especially since I wasn’t supervised.  I appreciate the feedback, that’s something that isn’t necessarily doled out excessively.  And Henry’s one of the ones to provide constructive feedback when needed, though he couches things in the genteel African way that sometimes takes me a moment to decipher.  But no deciphering needed this time.  : )

Holiday baby boom

At Dean's Hour on Thursday, the Dean asked what had happened on the long holiday... who was married (my classmate Paul), who had babies, five hands went up.  She said she was not going to ask who was ordained, because she's always fighting the bishops who insist on ordaining people before they finish their course.  There was quite a civilized rant that followed that I won't begin to cover here, and I agree with the Dean.  It made for interesting lunch conversation that day, believe you me.


But back to those who had had babies.  Well, it was their wives who had the babies.  And it should have been six hands.  My friend Rev. Samuel is from Mombasa, Kenya, and he arrived on campus Thursday.  He told me that while he was traveling, his wife called to say that she was going to the hospital to have the baby.  So he was returning to Mombasa to name the baby.


Mombasa is on the coast of the Indian Ocean, and it took Samuel 36 hours to get to UCU.  So he traveled 36 hours, learned that he was again a father, arrived at UCU, registered, unpacked, spent the night, ate breakfast on Friday, then left to return to Mombasa early in the morning to name the baby.  He said he'd be back early this week.  That's 108 hours of riding on a bus in one week.  He said that he wished that he had money for airfare so as to not spend so much time on the bus.  I absolutely agree.  He may have been fishing for money, but I don't have it.  I also wasn't sure where he was going, and have found that playing (or being, as the case may be) dumb is a lot easier than saying no.

The kids are gone!

It's time for the USPs to go on their two-week home stay with families in Mukono.  That means that the decibel level will decrease significantly in the dorm.  And as much as I like these girls, that's a good thing.  The other night they watched "Over the Hedge."  I had to ask what movie it was, which was a surprise, given that I could hear it like it was in my room.


Rainy season appears to be upon us; we had quite the deluge yesterday afternoon, and today it's nice and overcast.  I decided to not set my alarm, and slept until 8:30.  I know, it's complete slothfulness, but I'm telling myself that I needed it.  Which is true.


I also need the bye from three classes that we have next week.  Sadly, those lecturers have already given us work, but it's good to have time to get it out of the way.  And work on the dissertation.  And the field report.  As a friend would say, "that's enough."  No kidding.

"You are WHITE!!"

While I was at Sandra's house (the other American student), our Ugandan friend Godfrey commented that I was more white than when I left Uganda in August.  This is true enough; I've always been the "fairest" of them all.  Sandra was somewhat appalled at his observation, and thought that no one in the US would comment on my skin tone, which actually, isn't true.  I think the high contrast between the fair skin and dark hair has prompted any number of comments over the years.


Etiquette aside, I was amazed that Godfrey even noticed.  I didn't have a raging tan when I left, but then again, this is a country where people drive by millimeters, as Alison Barfoot puts it.  I saw a taxi roll back towards another taxi until it was truly about a quarter of an inch from the other taxi's bumper, and the driver never flinched.  For some reason, I seem to be equating exceptional spatial skills with skills of perception, which may or may not be accurate.


Except that two other people have told me that I'm whiter than when I left.  In August.  With a faint tan.  And now they say that I'm whiter.  When I ask how they noticed, they just shrug.  I guess I better work on my tan so I can show them how imperceptible the difference is.

Day two

I'm mortified to admit that on the second day of class, I'm heinously overwhelmed.  We met with the dean to make our plea to reduce the number of classes, and sadly, we lost that battle.  However, she's going to meet with the lecturers for the Church Management and Stewardship and Entrepreneurship classes to see if they can merge them, thereby saving us four hours a week.  That would be absolutely stunning.


Two lecturers have given us a bye week and a half, so we can get cracking on what they've given us.  For ethics, I'm writing on euthanasia.  I should have asked if I could have traded with Paul, who had just war, but I doubt anyone would appreciate what I have to say on the matter - most Ugandans view the military with fierce distrust, often bordering on hatred.  Unfortunately, there is much history that justifies that position.  With the peace and stability that has been building, I think views are beginning to change, yet in the long African memory, many people still vividly remember loved ones who were killed in the internal atrocities.  One lecturer just buried a nephew, and the preface to his absence for the burial was "this weekend we lost our nephew [probably in his late teens, early twenties], who was an orphan; his father was killed by (a group I didn't catch) when he was a boy; he was raised by my wife's father-in-law."   I should probably try to keep my mouth shut during that discussion in ethics if I want to maintain my friendships, but we're tackling the issues from a Biblical perspective, and God does have a lot to say about war.  This will be quite interesting.


In other news, this crop of USPs seem pretty decent.  Many of them are engaging with Ugandans/Africans who are not in the Honours College (and are therefore reaching outside their comfort zone); I'm so proud of them!  


It's really interesting; while I talk to the USPs and am kind and pleasant (my momma raised me right), I don't go out of my way to fellowship with them because they didn't come here to see me.  This semester, several of the girls have seen me and asked, "are you the one who's in seminary?"  Apparently, my reputation precedes me.  A few have come asking for cultural advice, or an introduction to the music director (who had asked if anyone played instruments and wanted to volunteer), or practical advice ("are you a laundry expert?" "Umm... no.  How can I help?").  It's an interesting turn of events, but I'm honored that they consider me a trusted broker.


The mosquito bite count is still in the single digits, but that won't last long at this rate.  Mercy.

Dorm sweet dorm

Ahh… as of Friday afternoon, I'm finally unpacked!  This is a huge room, with probably ten foot ceilings, and two screened windows which shall remain perpetually open, unless it gets frigid cold, say, 65 or 60.  There’s also a little mesh window above the door, which will help with air circulation.  The mosquito net is mine; Ruth, the female estate worker, is on holiday, so Joseph, the male estate worker, didn’t know that she usually has a net for me.  This one has overlapping flaps, so I think I’ll feel a bit like a princess getting in it at night, though it is a challenge to get the flap thrown over properly so that it doesn’t fall back.  I do need to remember to tuck it in at the feet though; it’s supposed to be centered over the bed, but the ceiling height makes that a tad bit difficult.  I may see if Joseph has a longer string though; I borrowed the one in use from Agatha.

My room faces the back, which is fabulous because 1. It gets the morning sun, and is therefore cooler in the afternoon/evening, and 2. Has a reasonable view of corn, trees, and the occasional gardner.  I moved the desk to be next to the window, which will give me something to look at in the few day hours I’m here.  At night, it’ll just either a lovely close-up of the drapes, or a lit view of the corn-covered hill, as the security light shines brightly.  The good part of that is that if I wake up in the middle of the night, I don't have turn on any lights.

When I was looking for Joseph, I found some of the Honours College guys, and asked them to help me take up my stuff.  What a gift!  Now I hope they don’t remember what it weighs, because I’ll need to ask them to help take it down at the end of the semester.

And I already have three mosquito bites.  Yay.  Who tells them that I’m around, anyhow?

The Parable of the Persistent Widow, retold as The Desperate Seminarian

Yesterday I called to confirm that I would indeed have a room in the Honours College, only to learn that all the Uganda Studies Programme (USPs; bachelor exchange students) this term are girls, and therefore there was no room for me at the proverbial inn.  So I appealed to Dr. Opol, who is a friend, lecturer, and manages the Honours College, and today went to campus to pay fees, register, and try to get the room straightened out.  Neither option that was presented is the least bit desirable:  both involve cramped space and loud people, a lot of them.  And I’m old.  And already dreading the workload.

Yesterday I also learned that we have seven classes (28 hours a week classroom time), plus the dissertation, plus the field report, plus chapel, field work, discipleship, and in theory, fellowship meetings. Oh, and we’ll have the meeting with the Catholic seminarians, and I’m on that committee.  One class, while very interesting, is new to the curriculum.  Since it appears that they’ve sprung yet another change on us (“you can finish your research next semester, and graduate in October”), I think I’m going to push back on their adding a class and potentially lengthening our program.  I’ve not yet prayed about what to do about this, but my overachiever really wants to graduate on time.  I really don’t expect to win, but do want to point out that one should not do this to one’s students.  Or their bishops, who are expecting them to do real work soon.

Luke 18:3-5 – “And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him [an unjust judge] with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ For some time he refused.  But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually wear me out with her coming!”

Retelling:  “And there was an older, alien seminarian on that campus, who kept coming to the Honours College manager with the plea, ‘is there no hope of a room for me?’  For some time he refused.  But finally he said to himself, ‘Perhaps there is some small thing.’”

It took approximately 20 minutes, and three “so, is there no hope?” questions for Dr. Opol to conceive of an alternative that would allow me to stay in the Honours College.  The solution he envisioned actually didn’t pan out, and I’m not exactly sure what happened, but somehow, a room became open for this old, overloaded, and ready to graduate seminarian.

The kicker is that Josephine Tucker, my new dorm, is at the very top of the Honours College hill.  I’ve not stayed in Florence, at the bottom.  I stayed in Rachel, up a flight of stairs, my first semester, then Winfred Brown, up another flight of stairs, my second and third.  The final semester will be in Josephine Tucker, which is up another longer, and I suspect steeper, flight of stairs.  These would be much less objectionable with a handrail.  I thought of pushing for the more difficult solution which would have put me back in Rachel, but felt that the grace offered was sufficient.

Maybe I won’t need to resume jogging this semester… all those flights to get to my room should suffice for cardio.  I can just about guarantee that when I go in for the night, I’m not coming back out until the morning.  

Timetables, coursework, and stress, oh my!

Here’s the schedule for the semester:

Christian Ethics:  no complaints, but I’ve had psych ethics, biomedical ethics, and legal ethics.  Joan took this class when we were roommates, and she’d ask me what I thought of various topics.  This will be an interesting, but intensive, class.

Christian Stewardship and Entrepreneurship:  I have no idea what this is, but suspect it’s about teaching stewardship, as well as how the priests can be entrepreneurs to boost their income, as well as build and launch programs in the parish.  This is going to be interesting, as the last two are very new to me.  Read:  I have no idea how I’m going to do the assignments, much less the exam, for this class.

Old Testament Wisdom Literature:  I’m hoping this will be one of the lighter classes, but given the lecturer, who knows.  It should definitely be interesting.

African Traditional Religion and Islam:  this is the new class, and while it’ll be interesting, I know nothing about African Traditional Religion (ATR).  I can regurgitate whatever Dr. Opol teaches us (and I really enjoy his teaching), but since I don’t come from this place culturally, I think this is going to be a challenge.

Church Leadership, Management and Finance:  yes, this is different from stewardship.  I’m curious how there will pan out.  It will be rather enlightening, as all I know is how we do things in the US.

John/Mark and Romans/1 Corinthians:  I’m looking forward to having this lecturer again, though he’s already told us that he intends to bury us in work.  Fabulous.  And no, I don't know why John and Mark together.  I actually thought John was going to be on his own since he's not one of the Synoptic Gospels.

Christianity in Uganda:  again, since I come from a different place culturally and historically, this class has potential to be exciting, especially for the final.

Weekly breakdown (though the timetable is always subject to change):  four classes on Mondays, two on Tuesdays, three on Wednesdays, two on Thursdays, and three on Fridays (which go until 7:00.  Sheer meanness.)

Two new developments from the end of last semester are that 1. We are no longer to take classes with the Bachelor of Divinity students.  This came from an external examiner who was examining our exams (who also gave all of us five points for a class when the lecturer I will have for OT Wisdom Literature failed everyone on her exams; my final grade was a B, and it’s unclear whether she failed absolutely everyone or that class, but I’ll always take five points), and 2. Rather than 50 being the minimum passing score, it has been raised to 60 for masters students. This was applied to us retroactively for the semester; I just learned of it on Tuesday.  Nice, huh?  It doesn’t worry me much, especially now that coursework has been increased to 60% of our grade, rather than 50%, which also happened last semester, but at least we knew about it.  And it works in my favor, so I’m rather pleased with that one.

Let the games begin!

iPad in Uganda

Power came back, and we were able to enjoy our smoothies.  I know you feel so much better knowing that.

Today we went to the supermarket, and since there was no food in the house (see previous phrase), we went to Good African Coffee for lunch.  It's a bit like Starbucks with a more robust menu.  They might even have wifi, as evidenced by the two African men who were sitting near us with a Mac laptop, PC laptop, and an iPad, who seemed like they were trying to connect to the internet.  Technology can skip several generations here in a heartbeat, so I was only marginally surprised to see it, yet on the other hand, REALLY?!  iPads already?!

Where did I pack my flashlight?

You know you're back in Uganda when the power goes out.  I was just sitting here, minding my business, when it just went.  The tragic thing is that we've not yet had dinner, and were going to make smoothies.  But that is difficult to do when the blender needs electricity to run.  We'll figure out something.

Now to try to find my flashlight...

Safe arrival

Greetings from Uganda!

I arrived safely Sunday night, and am staying in Namugongo at Sandra's house, after a nice, slow ride from the airport.  No accident, just heavy traffic.  While we have the internet, I don't expect to really be online until I get to campus, possibly on Thursday.

I did indeed have another empty seat next to me on the flight to Entebbe, and am grateful.  While I am still immensely jealous of people who can soundly sleep on planes, I did manage to doze a bit.  However, not sleeping helps me sleep once I arrive at my destination.  The birds were faithful to wake me at 6:30 this morning, so I took a nice nap this afternoon.  It sounds like rain is coming, so I'll fight to stay awake.

Last night I thought of something else to say, but it's plumb gone.  Oh well.

Adventures in Amsterdam

I had a lovely, uneventful, though unsleeping flight from Washington.  I think I doze out of desperation, but am thankful that the seat next to me was empty, and am praying for the same on the next leg!


One of the things I love about Schiphol Airport is that I can (pay to) take a wonderful shower.  When we landed, I had an hour between that time and the time to board, so I set off to find my favorite place.


Except that I couldn't find it.  They've done some nice redecorating, and I didn't see the signs for the hotel I wanted.  Due to the time crunch, I really didn't have time to find it.


In my wanderings, I saw a sign for a bathroom with a shower.  Praise the Lord!  Now I know that a shower isn't mandatory, but I, and I daresay everyone else on the plane, appreciate it.  Naturally, this was a free shower.  Which means no towel.  This is in addition to the fact that I generally take shampoo and deodorant, but no soap or comb.  No, I have no idea why I've not yet learned that these are critical items.


There was a fresh bar of soap, for which I was grateful, though the shampoo would have sufficed.  The lack of a towel was problematic, so I went to the gate with mostly dripping wet, uncombed hair.  I'm sure I look a fright, but I'm clean and that makes me happy.


Oh, and for some reason, the blogger pages I use to write to you default to Dutch.  I'm sure someone in technology has figured out where it I am, but I have NO idea why they decided to be so helpful.  The good folks at Google Chrome noticed this, however, and popped up a bar asking if I wanted the page translated.  Yes, please.


I apologize for the spacing; the free wifi runs out soon, and I don't want to take time to fix it.  I will later.