Dee-Rob

It took a whole lot of plane time, but we made it to Kampala, Uganda. Unfortunately, my very impressions from the airport to the hotel were dimmed by the darkness of night and the fact that I wasn’t able to sleep on the plane.

From San Francisco to Washington, DC, we logged six hours on Friday in the air. On Saturday, starting in the evening, it was first 8 hours from Washington, DC to Amsterdam, and then somewhere in the fuzzy Sunday morning another 8 from Amsterdam to Kampala. I just flew in from the U.S. and boy are my arms, and every other part of me, tired.

Finally, after all of that flying there was another 45 minutes or an hour to get to the hotel by bus.

All of the flying happened after a four- or so hour meeting where I got to meet my fellow travelers and hear about some of Uganda’s history and issues. It was a long weekend, but not in the usual, restful sense.

Today, Monday, we started early with breakfast, Uganda’s first woman veterinarian, followed by a few hours at our nation’s embassy and an afternoon with agricultural researchers. I wish I had slept last night to be better able to process the information. Perhaps tonight exhaustion will will out over my lifelong neurotic tendency to lie awake in strange beds. I envy folks wh0 can fall asleep anywhere and on a dime.

As for my first photos and first thoughts, they’ll have to wait until a good night’s rest and the ability to think clearly. I’m afraid tomorrow morning’s 7:30 a.m. start for an outing at Lake Victoria doesn’t bode well for my sleep fantasy.

I’m not sure if I can snap out of this great fatigue. Nope, instead I might perish on the spot with only a note to blow my ashes over Monterey.

My luggage finally fucking arrived at about 9 p.m. last night, while we were out dining with the family of Aunt #6. (I am determined to learn names this year, since I think I have the numerical order of the family down.)

It sucks wearing your boyfriend’s close (and mind you a wee tighter than I enjoy), whilst strolling the major shopping neighborhood in a major, fashionable, modern, consumerist city such as Singapore. We did buy an unlocked cell phone and SIM card to maintain radio contact with the relatives. But, I felt too disgusting, tired, frustrated and harassed by the equally jet lagged (but less like to admit it) boyo.

By the early evening, I just wanted to crawl my poorly clothed self into bed and sulk.

Although, dinner at an Indonesian restaurant was great with the Singaporean branch of the family, and they seemed to forgive my complete lack of fashion. I do so hate being the pseudo-wife dressed as a pseudo dyke.

It’s tomorrow, Monday, on this side of the world. Alas, the score for the Super Bowl didn’t time travel with us. Go Pats.