Safe and Secure

I'm sitting in my office at CDRN looking at the bars that crisscross the window, wondering what I would do if there was a fire. Like many businesses in Kampala (and I hear in other African cities as well) CDRN is one of a series of buildings contained within a walled compound. Large metal gates are controlled by our round-the-clock security staff. No one gets in or out without being noticed - it's very safe and secure...that is until there's a fire. Then I'll be human barbeque with grill marks thanks to these bars. Nothing in life is safe.

This is the kind of random thought that enters my head while I recover from the food poisoning I contracted over the weekend. Since arriving in Uganda I have mostly followed the rules - eaten only cooked food, drank and brushed my teeth with only bottled water, but there's one rule I broke - fresh fruit. I love the fruit here and eat it every single day. Could it have poisoned me? I don't really know...it could have been anything I suppose.

Things like this happen that shake the illusion of control I believe I have over my life. And when they do my first instinct is to stop doing whatever I did that may have created the threat. But when I do I deny myself something as well - a chance to overcome the fear that everyone has to face as part of life. The trick I suppose is knowing the right balance and my own capability to manage risky situations.

For example - I keep getting grabbed.

In fairness I do stick out a bit here...I'm almost 6 feet tall with light eyes and blonde hair. There aren't too many women wandering around Kampala that have these same characteristics and it's a bit like being a B list celebrity with a questionable reputation...Lindsay Lohan comes to mind. Everyone notices you - most people only stare - some are friendly - others are not.

The first Saturday after I arrived I decided to walk to a meeting with my research supervisor rather than take a taxi. It was only about 30 minutes to the city center and since I had seen many people walking around I thought I could as well. But as I continued down the streets of Kampala I quickly realized that I was attracting attention. 

Some greeted me with a friendly "hello!" Most just watched me walk by. Boda taxis kept pulling up in front of me and blocking my path, asking if I needed a lift. Men sprawled out in the grass at the side of the road called out, asking me to come over and meet them. It was disconcerting...I've lived my life so far in relative anonymity.

As I approached a crowded area, I felt a jab at my back. I spun around and a wide eyed boy no older than 15 years was backing away from me - he'd just made a grab for my bag but missed...his glancing blow went across my side instead. I'd never had anything like this happen before and it made me afraid for a while.

For the next several weeks I didn't venture beyond the short walk from my guesthouse to work unless I was with other people. Being part of a group had a cloaking effect, and as time went on and nothing bad happened I started to think maybe I was being paranoid. And even if I wasn't I was annoyed that I had allowed fear to make me a hermit.

So last weekend I ventured a short solo walk to the grocery store to stock up on water and snacks. A man greeted me as I walked down the hill and a group of teenage boys waved their arms at me with big grins on their faces but it didn't feel threatening...I didn't mind. Coming out of the grocery store, though, a man in a dusty ancient leather jacket grabbed my arm and commanded me to follow him. Angry this time instead of intimidated I pulled away from him and kept walking. I had begun to learn to adapt - to manage the risk in this environment.

If this all seems a bit cautious to you, I wonder if I am being too careful as well. When I was in my 20s I embraced risk - it was an adventure. And it's not to say that travelling half-way around the world isn't a risk....it is. But I hear the stories of my new friends Asreen and Lars who went bungee jumping and white water rafting last weekend in Jinja and I wonder...am I playing it too safe?

Everyone has to decide for themselves how much risk they will welcome into their lives, and accept that sometimes things will happen that are completely out of their control as well. Sometimes those things are wonderful new experiences that open your eyes to the world as though for the first time. Other times those experiences are filled with pain and regret. But the thing is there's no way to know beforehand how they will turn out and so there has to be a bit of faith that goes along with the acceptance that much of life is beyond anyone's control.

So peering into the dark void of uncertainty I have made a decision. I will eat the fruit. I will walk alone through Kampala carrying nothing that I would regret if it were stolen and waving like Miss America in the Thanksgiving Day parade as people stop and stare at me. I will forget about the fires, malaria-poisoned mosquitoes, rabid gorillas, and any other random but highly unlikely threats that could occur during my stay in Uganda. But I probably won't bungee jump, sky dive, white water raft or participate in any other adrenaline sports because while they look like a lot of fun, the thrills I seek are less physical and more existential these days. These are the thrills that I will leave a door open for to invite into my life.