Of babies and culture...

This is Peter, a baby in the "Hippos" class at Bullrushes. 

I could go on and on about the babies. They're so precious! We have babies that come from all kinds of circumstances: they were abandoned, their families are deceased, they were born to a young mother who needed help, or they were premature or have special needs and require the attention and medical assistance Watoto can provide. 

I don't know the exact story of each child- I think few volunteers do. Which makes it all the easier to love every single child with the same love and attention as the others. Every baby here gets cuddles and kisses and a warm bath (two, actually) and fresh meals and clean diapers and a faith-filled atmosphere every day. 

Today at my official orientation, Vicky (the head supervisor of Bullrushes) said, "I don't want people to think this is an orphanage. Orphanages are the places the child leaves one day and never wants to return to visit. This is a home, where the baby can have care and love."

Now about the culture here. I'm not yet in "culture shock"- I'm told that doesn't come until the second or third month. But there are several things I've noticed that are really different. 

For example:

There are three traffic lights. Three. One, two, three. I've been told that's the number of traffic lights in the whole country, but don't quote me. Regardless, that makes traffic insane. I have three intersections to cross to get to work, and there are certainly no crosswalks. So, you look both ways, say a prayer, walk halfway when one side clears, then the other half when the other side clears. Walking on the grass is not permitted. 

Paper products usually do not tear on their perforation... Lol. I have nothing else to add to this.

There are birds in our yard that sound like hyenas. Every evening and morning, they let out a "Ooooooh, ha-ha-ha-ha!" noise. 

Milk comes in a box or a bag, and both milk and butter can be found in the refrigerated section of the grocery or on the shelf. Sodas are called "fizzies" and potato chips are called "crisps." If you ask for chips at a restaurant, you will get french fries. The chocolate is good everywhere.

There is something about being around the world from home that makes one crave junk food, and you need it like, yesterday. I would gain weight, I'm sure, except for the hill I walk up every morning that is about a 45-degree angle. Abs of steel!! 

Our power outlets are the British style: three points, one on top and two on bottom. However, some plugs only have the two on bottom, which I don't understand. To get them to work, you have to trick the outlet. You can do one of three things: 1) Plug it in diagonally, with one in the top slot and one in one of the bottoms. This way has never worked for me. 2) You can trick the plug by using scissors to open the top slot. I saw a Ugandan do this, and I decided to try. I couldn't get it to work, either, but probably because I'm too scared of electrocution. 3) You can trick the plug by using a British-style adaptor in the top slot, and then plug in your appliance. This has worked like a charm every time, and I feel quite clever every time.

Also, we have a gas stove. I feel like I'm risking my life every time I cook. 

The Ugandans have really cute things they say. When you say, "Excuse me?" they answer, "Yes, please?" 

They also say "Sorry!" if anything happens, even if they weren't involved. For example, you drop a towel. I'm talking to you a few feet away, but I still stop to say, "Sorry!"

In a nutshell, I love Uganda. I love all these cultural differences, and I love working with my babies! Thank you all for the love and prayers. More updates coming soon!

<3, Robin