Motorcycles and starry nights

Last night we did say goodbye to Nick.  Outside Kope (pron. copay, meaning "I have no problems") Cafe, we sat under the stars while a thunderstorm lit up the distance.  No music - the iPods were all charging - just enjoying the cool, clean night air.  We talked a little of home and what it'd be like, but mostly just enjoyed some laughs and a bite to eat.  I think we've gleaned from our hosts a respect for today, that tomorrow will only present itself tomorrow.

 

Riding home at night is always a touch exhilirating and magical.  Exhilirating, for the dark streets and open intersections of town, streets quiet and sparse, but carrying people to their night-time destinations.  There's also the motivation to travel flawlessly, without a stall or fall, nothing to relinquish surprise to anyone who might be out late.  Magical, for the cold air, unforgiving dirt roads with the same ruts and pitfalls as in daylight, but especially for the stars, which reach all the way to the horizon and which move right everytime I move left.

Afternoons at the Office

I spend the bulk of my days at the diocesan office, if not because I have work there to do, then out of force of habit and the hope I can catch a ride with someone going someplace to do something. Afternoons at the office are usually pretty laid back affairs. We walk back from lunch around 2-2:30. There's usually some work to finish up - I don't mean I've been sitting on my duff this whole time - but when I arrive back at the office, there's at least one thing looming temptingly on the horizon: the mango tree.

It's mango season here in Northern Uganda. And mango trees...we have plenty of 'em. The hang a bit like apples, on their stem a few inches from the branch. When they're ripe (yellow, as seen above) they're also pretty easy to "shoot". Here I am, shooting mangos.

And these mangos are DELICOUS! I'm not entirely sure what mangos are like at home, but my hunch is that they're imported, reddish-purple or orange in color, and have a consistent texture, like a banana, not pulpy. These mangos are pulpy, juicy, sweet and tangy! And they're everywhere! I can't step outside my office without seeing two or three prime ones just lying on the ground, freshly fallen. Here, Susan demonstrates how to give in to the temptation. Abandon your desk, bring a chair outside, fill a basin with water (not shown), and prepare somewhere to collect your skins. You can find your first couple on the ground (mentioned above), and as many as you have time or energy to separate from the tree above you. Use a long stick to knock or hook them, or other fallen, unripe mangos to shoot them down (also above). Don't worry about being a loner; once you start, others will follow.