Rendered Literally Speechless by Africa

When we stepped off the KLM jet in Intebbe, about 10 pm local time, my nostrals were confronted with the rich Ugandan air. Breathing was intoxicating. It was tremendously humid, especially compaired to the dryness of my home town of Billings, Montana, which is notorious for causing spontanious nosebleeds. The smell was of sweet tea and chocolate and a thousand growing things. Im sure the rest of the group has long since gotten sick of my constant babbling about the air.

Pacing back and forth outside the airport was a man with an automatic rifle, not an uncommon sight

as I have learned, but a doozie for first impressions. We met our driver, Rogers (ellegedly one of 50 siblings), and sped off to milk tea (delicious) and sleep.

I pause here to explain and appologize for the jumps in time and subject that may occure in the course of this blog post. The computer has its quirks and dinner is almost ready. I'm sure you understand.

Driving to Kampala was like a dream. Not nececarally a bad dream, nor a good one, but the scenary struck me with a certian surreal quality. For the entire one-and-a-half hour drive the road was lined with shacks, each leaning to some degree to the side, hand painted in bright colors, sometimes with ads for "Butto" or, Coca-Cola. Most of the shacks were trying to sell something: used auto parts, furniture, cell phones, anything. I wanted to stop and check out the local hum, but time was short. We raced on to kampala.

The pinapple here is incredible. There are no words to explain the experience, so I wont try.

If you ever come to Uganda, drink Stoney soda. The ginger burns the back of your thoat.

To anyone who doesnt know me, I have shoulder length dreadlocks. I am suddenly and officially the "Rasta Mon" to the warm locals that we pass in the city. I dont mind.

The first morning on the farm I was drawn awake by the various songs of the birds and the bugs, a pure chaos of sound. At night, with a headlamp on, one can see thousands of shiny lights, like dew, in the grass. Uppon furthur inspection we discovered the lights belonged to the millions of African spiders, usually about the size of an ear, that are sprinkled around the continent.

Sockingly, or at least shocking to me, I havent gotten sick yet. Yet. Maybe I will do a blog post after I do.

Africa is a wonderfull and beautiful place, full of happiness and sadness and hot, hot sun. I have been rendered literally speachless by it on a near daily basis, and am enjoying my time here emmensly.

Someone check Reddit for me.

-Canon J. Parker