If there’s one thing you need to live in Africa, it’s patience. I've come to this conclusion over the past two weeks here in Kampala and a few outlying parts of the country, with many experiences contributing to my realization that the whole world doesn’t conform to the mile-a-minute pace of American society. Despite my last post, in which I described Kampala as (truthfully) one of the busiest cities I've ever been in, I still feel that the overall speed of life is, in fact, slower. This is true for several reasons: one is that modern technology here, while up and coming, just can’t compete byte-for-byte with the Western stuff. Internet here is slow—streaming YouTube videos or Pandora is wishful thinking—and texting is still in its basic 9 key, number-to-letter format.  I’ve learned how to wait, with 2 hours worth of practice, while a nice older lady makes 1000 photocopies on a decades-old machine in a cupboard-under-the-stairs in the local shopping center. I learned how to wait again in a little copy shop in the rural district of Pallisa while making 2000 more. I have to wait for my hair to dry, my clothes to dry, my cooking water to heat in beat-up aluminum pots on a slightly sketchy stove I’m quite fortunate to have. I’ve waited to get through “the jam” of rush-hour Kampala traffic, and waited about every other night for the power to come back on. Even my workload here requires patience—while I’ve got lots to do, it generally comes in spurts, with long stretches of unfilled time that mean a lot of hanging around our little complex. Fittingly, I’ve read through quite a bit of Walden.

I can only imagine the patience the people here must cultivate, especially in the villages and small towns. With no TV (our bootlegged cable at least has thrice-dubbed telenovelas), readily accessible internet, or even books, those living in rural areas must rely on social interaction and observation for entertainment. Driving past the villages, I’ve seen them sitting outside their huts and shops, talking together while they cook and wash, or watching the world (and the big van of muzungus) pass by. But perhaps they’re just good at enjoying life as it comes. Maybe another reason the pace of life is slower is because people choose to have it that way. I hope I can learn to do more of the same. In the meantime, I feel I’m going to get really skilled in patience.

By the way, here's some photos of our drive to the very slow-moving Pallisa: