"Getting sick is not a business."

That's what Muzeeyi Kutta Mukasa said to my son Patrick on the way to school this morning. Patrick seems to enjoy Uganda very much but the anti-malarial he is taking doesn't love him. He was up in the middle of the night with severe stomach pains. We share a room, so I was too. And besides, I am his mother. Tired as I am, I am programmed to help him. I was scared;  he was in severe pain. I had him chew on a few Tums and gave him ice cold water, rubbed his chest, pulled my fingers through his hair, spoke in a soft reassuring voice, laid down with him, and after an hour or so, he was back to sleep.


Patrick wanted to stay home this morning and not go to school, but only the house girl Diana would be home and she doesn't speak too much English. Patrick relunctantly took his shower and then got back into bed for ten minutes. When it was time to go, we all piled into the little dirty Toyota and Patrick slept in the front seat on the way to school. 


It was then that Muzeeyi told Patrick that getting sick is not a business.


"Muzeeyi, is that a Ugandan proberb?" I asked.


"No, no. But some people tend to keep getting sick."


"Well, I think that that should be a proverb now."


After stopping at Nambya School to pick up animal skins for the fashion show or concert ( I don't know which) we stopped at a pharmacy where I bought Pepto-bismol for Patrick. It was a four dose container for $10. I think that is four times as expensive than at home in the states. I was happy to see a product I knew though. After the purchase we went back to Muyenga Hill (home) because Muzeeyi forgot his glasses. That added about 30 minutes or more to our long drive to the school. We arrived around 9:30 which was late after an early morning wake up at 6:30am and two hours of nursing a sick child in the middle of the night.


I worked on Saturday's program again, using Martha's computer. It was frustrating because Ugandan paper is longer than US paper, 11.5 inches. I used Microsoft Publisher which allowed me to define custom sized paper, but the printer software only recognized standard American sized paper; 11". That was the least of our problems because the printer refused to print. We spent about two hours or so, this very last day, trying to get the darn printer to print. After rebooting the laptop a couple of times and shutting down the printer at least seven times and reinstalling the device driver it started printing. 


I recreated the day's program using 8.5 x 11" page set up in Publisher to match the printer software, though the paper was 11.5". It made for an uneven text display but I worked with it for a while and it was good enough. Most things here, are good enough. It makes one realize that trying to control a situation is fruitless. Do your best but when things fall apart, quit while you are ahead. Somehow it all works in the end.


The rest of the day was spent in the Culture Center (spelled 'centre' here) (and notice I say culture, not cultural - it's easier to say and the energy saved speaking one less syllable is precious, so I'm going for it) arranging the items and labeling them. For a while I was hammering cement nails into the wall for hanging items and wooden labels using a wood plane as my hammer, until a real hammer showed up. When a staple gun appeared, I rejoiced.  For other items like photos, I used blue tack purchased from the teachers' store in Marple at home. Thank you Usha for telling me about blue tack. 


While in the Culture Center, the Queen's people came and had a look around. The woman who seemed to be the spokes person was quite impressed with the 'boat' we had. It is a large carved out trunk of a tree used for making beer from bananas. Her reaction felt real good but when she told us that the carved granite plaque commemorating the opening of the Culture Centre by the Queen had mispellings in it, we forgot all about her compliments. The granite plaque was expensive and already cemented into the building. 


Just before I left after a long day and early morning, and just as I've seen dozens of times over the years in Uganda, I used the handmade broom to sweep the two rooms. Bent over with my left arm resting on my back. It really wasn't that bad but when a P7 student asked if she could do it and help me, I was quick to hand her the broom and say thank you.


It's too late to post photos, or try. I tried earlier and they wouldn't upload. The internet and router seem to be temper mental so instead I'll go to bed. Good enough is best.  I'll try again another day because for now it is six hours before I have to be awake again. 


I don't want to be so exhausted that I get sick. Getting sick is not a business.