Day in the Life: Lunchtime in Gulu
There's a little restaurant where I like to eat in Gulu. The food is good, and cheap. Barely a dollar for lunch and it comes fast. And it's never crowded. That's why I go there.
And the windows are mirrored on the outside. All along the side of the building a line of gold-tinted mirrors. And lunch time for me is also lunchtime for the kids.
Hundreds of children in all colors of washed, faded uniforms - blues and pinks and yellows - flood the streets and wander into them and dance around each other and laugh. And they stop at the mirrored windows.
They make faces and point at each other. They laugh and yell. And they can't see me, for once they can't and aren't pointing at me, the white man. But they're still laughing in the windows.
That's also why I go there.
And the windows are mirrored on the outside. All along the side of the building a line of gold-tinted mirrors. And lunch time for me is also lunchtime for the kids.
Hundreds of children in all colors of washed, faded uniforms - blues and pinks and yellows - flood the streets and wander into them and dance around each other and laugh. And they stop at the mirrored windows.
They make faces and point at each other. They laugh and yell. And they can't see me, for once they can't and aren't pointing at me, the white man. But they're still laughing in the windows.
That's also why I go there.
Labels: Day in the Life, Uganda
posted by James at 23:55
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4 Comments:
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To be invisible even for a few hours...odd that invisibility sometimes sounds nice even though you're fighting it on behalf of others. Missing those uniforms and those streets - soak them up for us who are on asphalt instead of red dirt.
I know you know how that feels! In fact, you were the first to tell me about Lindon - I eat there often now.
I miss those faces, and those bright colored uniforms. Abby's comment made me think, how ironic...working so the invisible children will be seen by the world, yet seeking a short moment of invisibility for yourself. Maybe those who've been there understand the dichotomy. Also, I would like to reiterate Abby's comment- soak up the red dirt for all of us teachers back in the states.
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