hello all

Homage to The Buddha, of course. It is Friday evening in Bulera. Unlike in the US, I look forward to the weekdays in Uganda. It's not that the weekends are slow; indeed, they go as fast as any busy day elsewhere in the world. But the seeming lull, say, of a Saturday afternoon here is very pronounced. The swifts sit slim, tensing their puny bodies on the power cables as I pass underneath them. They do not resume their tinny chirping. The sky is a vivid blue with pure white unmoving clouds; like a painting; the graceful jacaranda trees: their symmetry suggesting a frozen landscape. Only, the sun on my back is pleasantly hot as I make my way to the empty staffroom. There is a dish of posho and another of congealed beans. Not too appetizing. But I feel too tired to go back to my house and cook. It hits me then, sitting alone eating the meager meal and looking out over the green trees, the blue skies, and the ruddy earth that I am actually in Africa-the continent that has stirred the man of action and of imagination alike, I am really living in it. There must be a word for what I feel about Africa, the equivalent of Orientalism. But neither the tutors nor the students seem aware that they are in Africa. Mr. Magezi, the Science tutor usually walks in at these moments with his beaten up cell phone and relates to me with a lot of humor the latest on his romantic life. With Gloria. What are names like Gloria and Priscilla doing here?
---to be cont'd