Its Friday night here in the Casa (our home for those following along) and I guess you can say its “Happy Hour”. The normal bustle of traffic, rush, decisions, and organization give way to a much different description here in Mbale. Friday evening takes the form of an early family dinner, extended conversation and reflection on accomplishments of weeks passing. There is no mistaking the shallow grins and casual gaits as anything but a Friday evening feeling.
Almost a full month has passed since the first bag was packed into our car and the final hugs goodbye shared. (Pause a minute here for emotion and realization). I may have heard somewhere that the learning curve takes a full three months to settle in. Change needs a full bout of digestion. Change needs to interact with all the facets of your body and mind to absorb and provide all its nourishing nutrients. This Friday Marjani and I feel replenished and so happythankful.
Our workweek has taken its shape and coalesced almost into the shape of a routine. Before I get started down this road I’m by no means making a claim that a breakfast of potatoes, beans and a stroll through the slums of Namatala forms any sort of “routine” by the average description. Still, we find ourselves charmed and comforted by the new day to day.
Think about that howling dog sound. The sound used as the over-the-top sound on a sound machine even though no real dog actually sounds. It lingers, yelps, and bellows across your ear for minutes. Koji, our friendly neighbor dog, sounds the alarm each morning with a healthy, deep, “I need food now” howl. Sometimes it’s around 6 am and other days later, but we are comforted by that howl at this point. One of my first personal adjustments has been the group breakfast. I operate on the grab and go. The no conversation, get out the door with a banana shuffle. The only similarity here is the banana. Even then its not really the same cause the bananas here take several forms. The “Mzungu” banana has a smattering of character. Its red peeled, enormous, and apparently mimics the personality of American culture. 
Everyone relaxes and enjoys their coffee and tea while the sun crests over the shade of Mount Wanale. Our 1000 Shillings Staff typically meets for a meeting to discuss products for the day, business plans, the vibe of the group, and all other operational necessities. Shopping for beading paper, selecting fabrics for scarves, setting up a wholesale delivery for fresh water, or sampling local donuts make up some of the daily deeds. No doubt by noontime we start looking for a place to sit down and collect our breath. As this is the first Fellowship program we are doing our best to plan as much as we can while remembering to leave room for the unanticipated. That’s the fun of it all and seizing that spirit is something I know we sought by being here.
After some beans, chapattis, fruit, and more tea (food still aligns much of our daily energy) we head off to see the women of 1000 Shillings. The group spends about 2-3 hours each afternoon working with the women on the products and the stories we plan to share for our product launch. Work is actually the exact wrong verb. We savor, embrace, chat, learn, and focus on a task alongside a group of people pushing out positive energy in every direction. Marjani talks up the pattern of the scarves, the fellows document the experience, and I help sew the bangles. It seems appropriate that the only guy in the room dedicates time to the most female-centric product we have. We hang out under the tin roof, set our feet upon the dirt floor while worries, internet and synthetic flavorings exist in a place far, far away.
Evening time involves another round of family dinner. We all chat, replenish, and think about the next day ahead. I actually found my way to a local basketball court and have been hooping 2-3 times a week. Think of schoolyard ball with the no nets and the come one come all pick up and play attitude. Add in potholes, gravel, 300 school kids watching, motorcycle accidents and the picture zooms into focus. Games end and so do the daily activities as the sun sets. With little electricity and a single hanging light bulb it simply a way of life. Mbale is a special place. We are lucky to call it home and to have this experience as part of our lives. Koji typically howls a few more times and the mosquito net tucks us into bed.
"It's all happening." 