Health centre visit

It is easy to forget that you are in Uganda.

Last weekend, I found myself at a cafe in Lugogo mall sipping a cappuccino and reading Chinua Achebe's 'Things fall apart' (I'm about 40% of the way the way through the book and it is not clear to me if Okonkwo is being exalted as the best of men or being used to represent an out of date definition of what it means to be a man.). It was a cool and wet day outside just as it might have been in Melbourne. Coffee and reading is a Sunday morning ritual which has been seamlessly amalgamated into my Ugandan Life.

My first site visit on Tuesday made me realise how unrepresentative Kampala was of the rest of Uganda. My work took me to a health centre in Luwero. The health centre had single story buildings in front and to the sides and in the middle of the plot was a tree with a few goats munching on the only bit of grass in the entire compound. There was a pungent smell in the air which I later identified as goat dung.

Most of my time was spent in a bare office but before leaving we went through the paediatric ward to meet the clinician. This ward was not Baylor. Cots were squeezed in so tight that I had to walk sideways to slip between them. Instead of strong disinfectant, the smell of sweat and urine lingered in the air. A mother slept on the floor while her 5 year old with stared at me wide-eyed from his cot. The clinician's office was at the other end of the room and it had a plastic table and two chairs. Though I must add that the equipment shelf looked well stocked.

For lunch I had a rolex. The guy working the coal stove couldn't speak english so he called this old man (who I later found out was his father) over who spoke some broken english. As I waited for the rolex, the old man skipped the 'hellos' and asked me "Are you a protestant?". While I considered how to tactfully answer that, he rephrased "Are you a christian?". He really wanted to hear just one answer.

"I am"

"Oh that's great! That's great. We're same. Were brothers."

He showed me his dogeared Luganda bible with much pride. A few minutes later he pulled out his english King James and asked me to read a page from Romans II. I did.