Tid-Bits-Parents Visit-Bribe Backfire

First off, some random tid-bits:

A village woman, whom I have never met, approached me at a Savings and Credit training. She said, "Oh, Jen! I have a picture of you up at my house! You should come see it. When will you come see it?" It was creep-tastic.

I have recently had multiple people tell me that my nose is Rwandese. After my neighbors chimed in on the subject, I asked them if I looked more Tutsi or Hutu. I gave them an assortment of glamor poses and views from all angles. This question was discussed and pondered in all seriousness for a good half hour. The results were inconclusive.

Mama Jenny celebrated her 90th Birthday! She's such a loving and generous grandmother, the best that anyone could ask for. I am so lucky to have her.

Mom and Dad visited Uganda!

So mom and dad came to Africa for almost 3 weeks. We had such a great time. It was great to see them for the first time in over a year and even more amazing to share my new life with them here in Uganda. They even met, and approved of, my man friend. Score!

Instead of boring you with my awesome, awesome words, I'll dazzle you with pictures of the festivities.

...and this completes the magical picture journey of my parents visit. Hopefully, more pictures to come soon-ish*.


Bribe Backfire

I had, in a previous post, mentioned my first bribe solicited in Uganda. I felt fairly confident that this would turn out to my advantage, so that my legacy could live on in a name after my departure from my years serving in Uganda.

Fail.

I receive a phone call from a weary sounding Shakira, saying, "Jen. Baby Scott is here." Well, I am super excited, as I think that my bribe actually worked. My neighbor had named her first born child after me after I wore down her defenses. Excellent! ...but not really. My spirits were high for approximately 18 hrs.

I returned to my site, eager to meet Baby Scott in person. I deposited my bags on my doorstep and immediately rushed across the dirt common area, deposited my shoes at the door, and bolted into my neighbors house to meet the little fella that would carry my middle name. While putting the little bundle of baby, and about 19 blankets, into my arms, Shakira announces, "Meet your baby. Baby Ryani". Doth my ears deceive me? "Baby who", I ask in a haze of shock and confusion? "Baby Ryani", she exclaims proudly. "Seriously, Shakira? You named your baby after Ryan? What happened to Scott, or Everett?", I demand. "Jen. He is baby Ryani. Now we both have one."

As I stared down at this 18 hour old baby in disbelief, I formulated a plan to improve my bribe soliciting skills, so that the next neighbor who turns up preggers...won't stand a chance.




* Probably Never