Soldiers

Right now I am sitting at Garden City Shopping Center having my first real cup of coffee. I get Nescafe' at the house, but I don’t think that really counts. George dropped me here after work. I have come to the realization that whatever time I arrange to leave work, I will not get to my destination until 2 hours after I had planned. If there are any administrators reading, George needs an assistant. And a new car. We break down every day on the way home from work, and the poor thing has to scramble out of the car to a cacophony of horns and try to fix the engine.

I rose at 5am this morning. 5am, people. It wasn’t as hard as I thought. When I woke, it was time for Muslim prayers and I could hear them off in the distance. It was quite peaceful. The car came at 5:45 and I made it to the lab in a whopping 13 minutes. This is compared to the 35-60 minutes it has taken me in the past. Way to go Taxi Steve. I think we must have woken the guard at the JCRC because he came flying out of his hut in a confused daze when we honked the car horn, fumbling with his bucket full of keys.

About mid afternoon I looked out of the lab window and saw a handful of army men inside the research center. I inquired about them, and the lab figured that some "big guy" has come for treatment. About fifteen minutes later I looked up from my tubes and saw dozens of Kenyan soldiers piling into the lab. There must have been about 30-35 of them. To my relief, the head of the JCRC appeared and started telling them about the research being done in the Immunology lab. All of a sudden cameras appeared in the hands of the soldiers and they began snapping photos of everything, including myself. I do believe this is the first time I have been a tourist attraction.

I was told later that the JCRC had originally been built as a military hospital and has only recently begun to see the general public. It will serve as a model for other military hospitals in East Africa, although it still currently serves a lot of Kenyan and Rwandan soldiers. Apparently, soldiers “love everyone”, which I originally took as meaning they had a philanthropic streak. No. That statement has a much more lascivious meaning.

Driving home a police motorcade parted the traffic jam like Moses parted the Red Sea. You’ll never guess who was in the Mercedes they were protecting. None other than the Prime Minister, Apolo Nsibambi. He was fast asleep in the backseat with his mouth hanging open. Seriously.

Took a boda boda from the mall and I had to ride side saddle because of my dress. It started raining halfway home. Always an adventure. I will post photographs later if I can-- the internet connection has been incredibly flukey today-- both at the lab and home. I can't stay connected for more than a few minutes which isn't long enough to upload a picture.

xo...G.