Larium Nightmare Number 1

I dream that I am dead and the only person who can see is my own fear and I can only escape it by brute force. I gauge it eyes out with my thumbs and it dissolves. Then I am not afraid, only disappointed that I am already dead.

Dear larium, thank you for reducing my risk of malaria. Now, please don't make me crazy.

Anyway, I think I'll be up a while now, so maybe this is a good time to catch up on my blog.

Today... woke up at 6am so I could do a radio interview at 7am for Cooking Oil. Uganda Broadcasting Center built by Idi Amin - recording studios wrapped in cement lace. Afterwards, I sit upstairs in my friend Aggrey's office full of educational posters - don't steal medicine, don't buy votes - outside the window, Kampala in the mist. He makes tea.

I'm reading a lively book written in 89 criticizing the industry of foreign aid, or the industry of development, as a place where people make money out of creating narratives about and servicing poverty. This point of view feels a little extreme, and then you read about companies willing to put $10 million into Southern Sudan to develop animal shaped cities. I want that to be a joke, but my friend working in the area as a photojournalist says she's seen the plans.

So much running around. The US embassy to pick up my mail. I finally get my badge printed. As I am waiting, I read a wipe board that describes cars available and their state. "sweet ride, no a/c, no radio" or "no driver's side seatbelt, no a/c" or "sucks". The embassy's mixture of performance of authority - with the security checks and escorts - and this casual or informal banter truly fascinates me.

Other errands, I visit Rwangyezi at Ndere who has just returned from the world expo in China. He says the thing is twice the size of Kampala, built in 8 months, immaculate and on time. Electric buses and urban planning proposal pavilions without end. Dreaming a better future. Three highrises were built to house the expo people and after April nothing else will remain.

Above is a picture of Cooking Oil, the play. We opened last weekend to small but enthusiastic houses. Two more weekends to go...