A Typical Morning

8:08 am
I wake up and realize that my alarm didn't go off at 6:30. Strange. Wait...it's Saturday. OK, I have my bearings. I go to the kitchen/bathing room and put the water on for my morning instants: coffee and oatmeal. I take my hair out of a pony tail, yet it remains in pony tail position. A sure sign that I need to bathe. To prepare my self for the freezing water that rains down from a nook in my kitchen, I run in place for a minute or so...not too long, I don't want a side stitch this early in the morning. I shower. I mistake body wash for shampoo and don't realize the error until I turn the water off. Too Late. I get dressed. I eat my instant oatmeal and drink my instant coffee while checking e-mail and facebook. No emails. Not shocking. Nothing too interesting on the social network. I go through my packing checklist from the night before. I begin packing my backpack. There's a knock on my semi-open door followed by giggling. It's my two neighbor kids who are about 4 years old. They want sweeties. Sure, why not. I begin to hand them some sugar free life savers and a third kid runs up to get in on the action. Bruno Mars comes on my computer and we spend 3 1/2 minutes dancing on my stoop. The lawn mower and the sprinkler were the main moves of the morning, with a weird leg move they taught me coming in at a close second. I take out my trash and throw it in the pit that I have been told is burned on occasion. False. It is never burned. I stare at my few dirty dishes from the morning and decide not to do them until I return. A decision that I always regret, but make anyway. My house is somehow put together, my door is locked, security light on, and I'm ready to depart.

9:31 am
I walk down the dirt road to the taxi stage in my village. I signal to a driver with a head nod that I intend to board his vehicle. He nods back a confirmation. I hear my name, turn, and see a man who has both professed his love for me and tried to break into my house. He walks with (follows) me to the taxi. "Where are you going, Jen?" "To Mbarara" I say (really, to Masaka). "And you will return when?" he asks. I tell him I will return later today, when I will actually return 8 days later. He demands that I bring him back an apple from town. "Apples are expensive," I explain. His response is a look that tells me that this shouldn't be a problem for me. Because I want him to go away, I say "sure". I have no intentions of following through with this request. I'm ushered to the correct taxi and am told to sit in the front. I walk to the door, open it, and there's a woman with a small baby in the front. It is obvious that she had been breastfeeding and now 3's a crowd as she extends so that I, too, can fit in the front passenger seat. She extends, and I sit down. We greet each other in the local language and I learn that the baby is Rita. Rita is wearing a pink vest and a bib that says "Baby's 1st Christmas". Rita stares at me and throws up. Her mother cleans it up with one of the 4 blankets in which Rita is wrapped. The mother then readjusts Rita to be directly facing me. The car is full, and we start to move. I stare into Rita's judging eyes, and she back into mine. We both know what's going to happen. She just ate. The roads are beyond bumpy. She's going to throw up again, and now she's facing me. The inevitable happens about half way to town. I half shriek and grab one of the blankets to stop the baby vomit before it makes its way to me. I'm too late. My sweatshirt was a direct hit, as well as a bit of my hair. The mother is just watching unmoving and says, "Sorry, sorry". She doesn't mean it. When I have completed the clean up, the baby is turned away from me. Typical. I move my body washed hair to the left side of my body and ask myself, "Did a baby really just throw up on me?" The answer is yes. I need to get out of the vehicle stat. I yell "Masao!" to the driver, and he stops on the edge of town. I pay him 2,500 shillings and exit car left. I stand on the dirt sidewalk and take a deep breath. It's only 10 am.