Hairy Lemon

8.4.09
On Sunday we spent the night on an Island called Hairy Lemon. The island was named after a pub in Ireland that the owners meet at. Hairy Lemon is extremely hard to get to. To get to the island, first we had to travel 45 minutes to Jinja. From Jinja town we took bodas to an area just outside of Jinja. Next we needed to find a “special”, also called a private hire car, and travel another 45 minutes to the Nile. But for some reason we could not find a special. After talking with boda drivers and discovering they were going to charge us 20,000 shillings each (10 US dollars) we chose to try and hitch a ride. We rode in the back of an old pick up truck for only 6,500 shillings ($3.25). The ride was defiantly only worth $3.25. The roads were bumpy and our driver drove very very slow. Although the ride was worth it, Hairy Lemon was well needed relaxation. We spent the day lying on the shores of the Nile. The water was cool and clear. It was a nice escape from the day to day chaos. I thrive on that chaos but occasionally it can be draining. After our small night away, we began the trek home. After crossing the river in a small rickety boat we found bodas. Somehow the boda drivers convinced us that the 45 minute drive on a dirt road would be better on bodas. Very wrong! Even in Kampala, where 5 people a day die in boda accidents, I have not been as afraid as I was during this ride. Our drivers cut down the time from a hour long ride into Jinja town to a thirty minute ride. It was terriflying. By the time we got to town our faces were red and we had white circles around our eyes where sunglasses had been.


Today I came home from Musana early and helped our house lady, Rayhema, cook. Before tonight I didn’t think she spoke English. But she actually spoke a lot of English. We had so much fun together. The language barrier tends to be intensified when trying to work in the kitchen together. I learned so much about Rayhema and her childhood. Growing up both her parents died and she left Mbale to live in Iganga with her aunt. When she was living in Mbale she had a monkey just like Rasta. Our last house girl was very afraid of Rasta but Rayhema loves her. I know I can leave for the weekend and she will be taken care of. Rayhema is only 19 years old. Since she doesn’t have parents she had to drop out of school to work so she can go back. During the time we were cooking together a huge rain storm started. It was so much fun to be stuck in the kitchen with her. We made Irish( potatoes), beans, rice, greens ( fried greens with tomatoes and onions). It was very yummy and I can now prepare a Ugandan meal!