Its Only Rain?

08/21/05

Today was hard, weird, somehow enlightening. In the afternoon I came back to my room to read, still confused by everything that I had seen yesterday. It started pouring rain, as hard as I\'ve ever seen it. Sheets.

I stopped reading and started watching the streets, and then filming people running back and forth, one guy who was just sitting there huddled under an umbrella, the occasional boda-boda skidding by.

Suddenly, I thought about the homeless families I had seen yesterday at Entebbe Road, and instantly I needed to know how they were dealing with this downpour. I don\'t know why, guilt? Pure curiosity? I weighed it momentarily in my head, I really didn\'t want to get soaked, but I really felt drawn to the slum. I threw on a shirt that needed a wash anyway, and I hit the streets. Hundreds of people were lining the sidewalks, trying to stay dry. The city had come to a grinding halt.

I got tired of trying to skirt by people on the sidewalk, so finally I just took to the street. Soon I was jogging, getting soaked. As I got to the bottom of Entebbe Road and started ascending, I was really feeling the fool. I could see kids, homeless families, huddled under overhangs. They were dry, I was wet. I climbed Entebbe. I saw at the bottom of the slum a few tents made out of thin sheets. I climbed Entebbe. I saw a man huddled under a piece of plastic, the water forming deep pools in the creases. He looked dead, suffocated under the plastic. I climbed Entebbe. And then my heart dropped. A woman who looked my Grandmother\'s age was curled up in the mud, clawing into it, sobbing. The water was beating down on her. No protection from the storm. Why had she not found shelter? Was she too weak? I ducked under an awning. I didn\'t know what to do. I felt helpless, useless. What could I do?

I took a last glimpse at the heartbreaking sight and walked away. My tears mingled with the rain. It was a terrible feeling. What could I do, how could I help? I had almost made it home when I stopped in my tracks. I couldn\'t go on. A few people rushing by turned to look at me, confused by the muzungo standing paralyzed in the pouring rain. I had to do something. At least find her a tarp or an umbrella or something. Something. I turned around and walked through the industrial area, stopping at every shop, asking for a tarp, an umbrella, a plastic sheet. I was met with confused stares. I stopped in front of every shop on the street, nothing. I was so disheartened. I wanted to do something so small as to bring this lady a piece of plastic, and I couldn\'t even do that. I saw some plastic covering some boxes, and I briefly thought about stealing that, but everyone on the street was staring at me. Finally, in the last shop before Entebbe Road, I saw a piece, covering some pieces of glass in a workshop. I went up to the shop and negotiated for it, still standing in the pouring rain. 3000ush, just under $2. A total rip, but they had the upperhand, standing there dry, laughing at my soaking desperation. I got the plastic and ran across the road. She saw me coming and (I think) knew I was coming for her. She struggled to her feet. The change in her face as I handed her the tarp was well worth all the trouble. This mask of pain lifted, and she smiled this big toothless smile. \'Eh! Baby! Thank you!\" And then something in Lugandan. But really it was the smile that said it all. I gave her 500ush to get something warm.

Of course, having reached into my pocket, the herd was awakened and began descending on me, so I quickly made my escape down the hill. But I wasn\'t feeling good. Seeing all those other desperate faces… Its like even when I tried to help, all I could do was bring some old lady a piece of plastic, and what is that? Nothing. My face curled back up in the misery of the whole scene. But as I was walking down the hill, I started to overtake a young girl walking with her brother, and she looked back and saw me, and gave me a look that so clearly said, \'What the hell is the matter with you? Its only rain. It happens all the time.\" And she was right. Why am I getting myself so caught up in everyone else\'s suffering? I was soaked, my only pair of jeans, my only pair of jeans. But then I thought of the woman\'s smile. People pointed and laughed at me loudly from their safe, dry havens, but I guess I didn\'t care.

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