Skinny Jeans Part Deux

After one year in the Peace Corps, I think I can safely say that service seriously affects your relationship with food.  While I am at site, I think I have managed to find a healthy options and portions for my meals.  Even when I travel to my nearest town, Mbale, I can usually the restrain the primal urge to wolf down everything in sight.  I usually visit my pineapple man for a pre-lunch snack, indulge in a Coke Zero and get nachos from our favorite spot.  I feel satisfied, not stuffed.

All bets are off when a volunteer is in Kampala.  Seriously, I don’t know what happens, but the idea of variety and quality turns the average volunteer into a black hole for salami sandwiches, pizza, Chinese food, etc.  Ok, so maybe it’s just the volunteers I hang out with, but still.  Spending a weekend in Kampala will leave you feeling guilty and your pants a little tight.  Spend a week in Kampala?  Well, the results will be disastrously hilarious.

I want to preface this story with a post from an incoming trainee: “Silly-ish question: My family keeps telling me I need to gain a bunch of weight (slash stop losing weight) before I leave because I'll get super sick and lose weight during my first couple months in Uganda. Are they just being ridiculous, or should I actually start beefing up?”

Last week, I had to travel to Kampala for a District Security Representative training.  Yes, it makes me sound big and important, but it really means that I get to forward security update texts to all my closest neighbors.  I’m a pretty fast texter, so I think I’m well qualified.  Plus, no one else in my region could go to the training.  We did get to go to the American Embassy, which means AC!  The first 10 seconds were heaven, but sadly our bodies have become so well adjusted to the sweltering heat of dry season that we spent the next six hours shivering.  We learned lots about safety, security and staying vigilant.  Unfortunately, we did get trained in some simple first aid.  Why do I say unfortunately?  I’m not a huge fan of blood and guts.  Yeah, I’m a sissy, and I actually stepped out of the room several times to avoid passing out in front of everyone and creating a scene.  I guess Peace Corps didn’t change that pathetic side of me.

For our first dinner out in Kampala, we hightailed it to a Chinese restaurant across town.  Even though we had eaten a decent lunch at our training, we all were starved.  Aubrey and I had already decided our order before we even arrived: three spring rolls each, one plate of beef and broccoli and vegetable fried noodles to be shared.  The waiter gratefully brought us sugar-coated nuts, which we descended upon like vultures.  Apologetically, I said, “We’re just really hungry.”  He replied, “I know.  I can tell by your faces.”  That’s probably not a good sign.

Once our dishes came, they vanished in mere minutes.  We eyed each other, and someone finally suggested, “Round two?”  Yup, we got a second round of food.  The four of us shared ginger fried rice and Szechuan chicken.  In the middle of round two, my phone starts ringing.  It’s a private number, which means someone from America is calling me, so I begrudgingly picked up the phone.  This is the conversation my friends heard:

Hello?

Hi Dad, how are you?

Uh huh. (I’m trying to still eat at the same time)

Dad, dad, I’m eating Chinese food right now, and you’re ruining my experience.

Yeah, call me back.

Can you call me back, uh, in like two days?

At this, my friends can’t help laughing at the absurdity of the situation.  I refused a phone call from my father because I’m too dedicated to Chinese food, and possibly won’t recover for two days!  I actually said two days because I thought I would be home by that point.  Regardless, I called my dad the next morning to apologize for my Chinese food antics.  Sadly, he thought I was out partying and lying about being at dinner!  Nope, we’re just that excited about good food.

The next day, we voted to forgo lunch at our training in hopes that we would end early.  We didn’t finish until 2:30 PM.  Needless to say, we fantasized about lunch on the ride to Garden City, a hub of restaurants and shopping.  Once we arrived, we jumped off the bus and power walked to the restaurant we had predetermined on the bus.  Both Aubrey and Dylan were reaching the mean stage of hunger, so I volunteered to get us water and meet them at the restaurant. Before I could even sit down, Dylan burst out, “We ordered for you!  Sorry.  You wanted a bacon cheeseburger right?  I guess you could change it.  He’s right there.  But we ordered for you.  Is that ok?”  I couldn’t have taken more than five minutes.  Sure it was fine.  We all added milkshakes to the order.  Our milkshakes were ready first, and we saw them sitting on the counter waiting to be brought to our table.  Two minutes passed, and our eyes were glued to that counter.  “They’re melting!”  “Give it another minute, and I swear, I’m going to bring it over myself!”  Finally, they were brought over and helped alleviate some of the angry hunger symptoms.  When the food arrived, we simply inhaled our burgers and fries.  Best burger in country.

Now, I would like to think that the above events did not, in anyway, cause the upcoming one, but who’s to say.  That night, we decided to go out to celebrate the end of training.  Plus, I think we’d been a little exclusive and antisocial due to our eating adventures, so this was a great opportunity to do a little more socializing.  While we were visiting someone’s house, I received another one of those private phone calls.  Someone in America is trying to reach me!  I decided to step outside to take it.  From the covered veranda was yard, which would have given me a little more privacy, but it was completely dark.  The dude standing at the doorway couldn’t give me a heads up.  As I hurried out to the yard, I tripped down the two unnoticed steps and fell flat on my face.  This isn’t exactly out of my character, and I was pretty grateful that no one noticed.  Sadly, it ripped the knee on my favorite and only pair of skinny jeans!  I never found out who was trying to call me, and we soon left to go dancing.

Once we got to the club, Aubrey and I started busting out our awesome dance moves.  Within five minutes, I felt like something was little off about my attire.  Imagine my horror when I realized that my jeans were split up the back.  In America, I would have run home.  But, maybe Peace Corps has made me less susceptible to public humiliation.  I just keep on dancing.  Thankfully, I had an over the shoulder bag, which I could position to cover my rear.

Laughing, I called Nathan the next morning to tell him the funny story.  Well, apparently it’s not funny to everyone.  “You just kept dancing?”  Uh, I guess so?  But I don’t think anyone noticed…

Of course, we spent more time eating in Kampala.  Aubrey and I decided that we are great, but horrible eating partners.  We like the same food and we love ordering multiple dishes to share, but we’re a bad influence on each other’s choices.  One morning, we got lattes and shared a plate of amazing waffles.  We rejoiced over the fact that we both do not like soggy food, so we put the syrup in a cup for dipping.  I noticed that Aubrey mimicked my eating pace, which I eventually commented on.  “I don’t like eating faster than whoever I’m eating with.”  I thought it was a politeness thing.  Nope.  “Because then I get jealous of the other person’s food.”

After spending a week in Kampala, Aubrey and I decided that we should take a step in a different direction, hence Active April.  We’re trying to be a little healthier by positively encouraging each other to work out and run.  Also, for the month, we’ve decided we can’t eat together, unless it’s at Taufiq’s, where you can only order rice and beans.  I’m still thinking about those waffles though.