Blog Journey: Coming to America
When I relocated from Uganda to America, every day was an adventure. I learned how to use a washing machine, how to apply for and use a credit card, how to fuel a car at the gas station—simple transactions right? Well, not for this girl straight out of Kampala. Grocery shopping was intimidating—from two bread brands to a store shelf with over 10 bread brands—navigating American life was a discovery channel.
This blog started as a diary, an attempt to make sense of all the new experiences gushing at me—it is filled with adventure, discovery, culture shocks, growth, child births, child deaths, parenting, exploration, questions of identity, faith, assimilation—experiences of a mother raising a young family in a different culture and community.
When I first relocated from Uganda to America, every day was an adventure. I learned how to use a washing machine, how to apply for and use a credit card, how to fuel a car at the gas station—simple transactions right? Well, not for this girl straight out of Kampala.
Grocery shopping was intimidating—from two bread brands to a store shelf with over 10 bread brands—navigating American life was a discovery channel.
This blog started as a diary, an attempt to make sense of all the new experiences gushing at me—it is filled with adventure, discovery, culture shocks, growth, child births, child deaths, parenting, exploration, questions of identity, faith, assimilation—experiences of a mother raising a young family in a different culture and community.
Kitante Primary School Circa the 80’s
"There's a school near the museum by the road side,
Oh come to the school of the world
No school is so dear to your child
Kitante is the best in the world.
Oh come come come come
Come to the school by the road side
Oh come to the school of the world
No school is so dear to your child
Kitante is the best in the world "
"There's a school near the museum by the road side,
Oh come to the school of the world
No school is so dear to your child
Kitante is the best in the world.
Oh come come come come
Come to the school by the road side
Oh come to the school of the world
No school is so dear to your child
Kitante is the best in the world " Read more
My Son Gets Lost in Franklin Mills
Today there was a trip organized for Wharton international students to go shopping at one of the malls out of town called "Franklin Mills". I'd been there once before with Sam but since I was nothing doing I thought I would go again. Franklin Mills is a maze—really really huge, like five times Game Store and some, so the time I went with Sam we didn't quite go all round. Of course I went with Mich, I happened to be the only black person and non student but it was okay.
Today there was a trip organized for Wharton international students to go shopping at one of the malls out of town called "Franklin Mills". I'd been there once before with Sam but since I was nothing doing I thought I would go again. Franklin Mills is a maze—really really huge, like five times Game Store and some, so the time I went with Sam we didn't quite go all round. Of course I went with Mich, I happened to be the only black person and non student but it was okay.
We were told we had four hours to walk around or shop. It went well until five minutes to the time we were scheduled to get back to the bus. Mich had wondered off, at the start I thought he was in the JC Penny store, we had walked in earlier and played a little hide and seek among the rack of clothes. I walked around once, then twice, by the third time I was getting freaked, I couldn't see him. At this point I decided to let the guy at the counter know I was looking for my little boy. The shop was really huge I thought he could have run into an office or something. The guy asks for Mich's name and makes an announcement hoping that he would hear and come out, wa!