Africa- We Love to Hate

Jehovah, give me patience.
No, the title does not mean that I am in some sort of trouble with the Ugandan mafia (Do you know how ghetto the mafia here would be?), nor have I started blackmailing high government officials (also ghetto). Smuggling rare African wildlife, however...well let's just not mention that.

Every so often, even when you're having a wonderful time, you have one of those days where you wake up and know that you're going to have a bad day. That much being said, I've discovered that sometimes it is ok to hate something . What do I mean? Well, sometimes its alright to hate things that simply lack the common sense and understandable aspects that most things in life are crawling with. This post is going to take a small break from interviewing brothers or sharing experiences from the field service/studies in order to tell you the Love/Hate relationship I have with Africa. I hope you enjoy. :]

(Ps. Internet still won't let me post pictures on Flickr or the Blog, sorry. :[ )

When you're walking home from the kingdom hall and see a car in a driveway with the driver sitting down reading a magazine, the normal, sensible thing to believe is that it would be safe to temporarily pass in front of the parked car. With no fear of being run over. However, because this is Africa, things don't work that way. As I passed said driveway, the driver seemed to suddenly recognize the opportunity to make a healthy batch of Muzungu roadkill pie, and threw down his magazine. Popping the car into drive, he charged fearlessly ahead, totally disregarding the fact that there was now a human walking in front of him for the first time all day. Thus, the bumper mark on my leg. Yeah, he hit me. Not hard, but still. Of all times, of all moments, he stays there all day except the very moment that I dare cross his parked path. Forgive me, for I have sinned, thinking that it might be safe to venture in front of a parked car. 

Here is another example:
What do I wake up to today, but the blasting sounds of karaoke? You see, here in Uganda, they seem to love noise. The louder, the better. Now sometimes that can be a good thing. (TURN IT UP TO 11) Other times (When you're sleeping, for instance) that can be a very, very bad thing. There are trucks here equipped with upwards of 5 stereos as tall as I am, blasting the most random stuff. Sometimes its music (all of which sounds the same and has absolutely no melodic sense whatsoever), sometimes its a radiotalkshowprogramthing (which is mostly just guys yelling gibberish at a microphone), or sometimes its country music (Dear god, what have I done to deserve this? Take my soul instead!) So today, they parked right outside the house and had a karaoke session. Which, to be clear, karaoke in Africa is quite different. It pretty much consisted of a guy yelling a looped: "Yes...UH...Yeah....Yes!" into a microphone while the same copy/paste African song played in the back ground, accompanied by another guy screaming: "Haha!...woo! Aaaaaaayaaa! Uh huh!".
It's not very very often that I've wanted to murder someone.

And of course, another one:
After about 2 months of using motorbikes on the bumpy Ugandan roads, I decided to walk everywhere. Get some exercise, see the sights, and have the chance to say that I successfully walked everywhere, bla bla. So I did it. There was also one other reason I was exploring the benefits of. Unfortunately, the damage was done.
The continuation of the Barrett line now lies with my brother, Josh.
Between my love of Mountain Dew and the trauma from a deadly motorbike/bumpy roads combo, I've pretty much given up on the hope of being a father in this system of things.
Sorry, kids. I did it for a good reason.

One more:
Hand Entrapment. Forgive the stereotypical American word usage, but dude, what the world?? STOP TRYING TO HOLD MY HANDS.
Everytime some dude tries to hold my hand, it sends chills of terror and pain through my soul. Especially since MOST hands I've ever shaked here in Uganda have been SUPER wet and warm. 
There are varying levels of likelihood of Hand Entrapment. 
Gray (Non existent)
Green (Slight possibility, no real alarm)
Blue (Possibility increases, caution advised)
Orange (High danger level, Comfort bubble Violated)
Red (Incoming Hand Entrapment, Immediate Diversionary Tactics Required)
Black (Entrapment Underway)
It usually starts with a greeting (Green alert), where the person shakes your hand (Blue Alert). You can sometimes tell what sort of shake it will be. If they approach with their hand held high, it is most likely going to be a "Highfive Shake" where you clap hands loudly, do a quick shake, and let go (Down to Gray Alert). Sometimes, their hands are (as mentioned) very sweaty, nearly dripping (back up to a Blue Alert) If, however, they approach you with a smile in their eyes and a waist high outstretched hand, this is a huge threat. (This brings up way of to a Orange Alert) When the hand slowly slides into yours, don't mess around. Huge threat level. (Bumped up to Red, nothing to laugh at) At this point, there is very, very little keeping you from Black, where you're then forced to execute maneuvers (varying in difficulty and effectiveness) to keep your hand. If not, the Entrapment never lets go. He just stands there, talking and holding your hand. Then he starts to swing it. Then he pats it with his other hand. Or he might do the absolute worst thing of all, rubbing your hand. As you writhe in pain, he obliviously continues telling you about his goats or his rash or what not. It is too late, and you'll be in pain for the rest of the day. Thus, I've compiled a list below that you should execute (according to situation) once you reach Red Alert.

These are the few techniques I've worked up.
 1. The Scratch. (Obvious, simple, effective. Scratch your face, ear, neck, etc etc. Something above your clavicle to ensure that you bring your hand high enough to cause him to let go. The knee also works, but that is just awkward as it involves you leaning towards the offending hand holder)
2. The Cough. (Simply cough, giving you immediate reason to quickly retract your hand. Effective, but risky. Remember the danger of sweaty hands, and judge the volume of wetness now on your palms before you attempt a cough. A dangerous transfer of nasties could occur between your hand and face if caution is not exercised)
3. The Transfer (Immediately find another hand to shake, possibly the next closet person. If done effectively, you can continue the conversation with the first person while freeing yourself from Hand Entrapment. The Transfer seems to be rather tricky at times, as you may be too isolated to preform it, and you also risk Hand Entrapment by the next person)
4. The Initiative (Take the first step in thwarting Entrapment by converting the handshake into a fist bump. Very effective, though 1 time out of 10 it turns into them being confused, laughing, and grabbing your fist and squeezing. I...still don't know how to respond to that) 
5. The Distraction (Fake a distraction just before the handshake, such as a bug on your leg, or hearing your named being called. Possibly even reaching into your pocket. Extremely risky if you do not move your hand in the process, as they will grab your hand and look towards your manifested distraction, throwing you instantly in to Black Alert. Follow up is necessary, or else they will try and redo the shake)
6. The Paranoid (Last ditch effort only! If the person that is about to preform Hand Entrapment is known for his gross hands or 'spit talking', punch his teeth out while screaming "DON'T TOUCH ME!!". Unadvised, dangerous, and messy)

And thus, I end the post, having run out of ideas to post about. Still gathering information on the local brothers and sisters to share with you, so keep your eyes open! Wait...before I end, let me clarify in case anyone was wondering.
I'm loving my time in Africa, and all these crazy memories are going to be included in my history pages. I've finally seen how to write my own pages to my own story, and for as long as I will remember, I won't forget the crazy things that have happened in my service to Jehovah. I consider each bug bite, each scab from bumpers, each revolting shudder as a blessing from Jehovah for allowing me to serve him more fully, all the while having the time of my life. So never fear, this is awesome for me. I cannot wait to be home, but I'll never regret my time in Africa. Africa is preparing me for a life time of exploring this earth in service to my Heavenly Father, Jehovah. Want to rock with me? Jump aboard, send me an email, and lets need great somewhere! I'm not stopping till death or Armageddon!
As always, taking requests/questions! Leave a comment or send me an email. :]