For several months now, I've been looking in on Pernille's life in Uganda.
At first, I have to admit, I was jealous and suspicious. Who was this lovely, literate Danish development worker living the life that I wanted to be living? She's in Arua, while I'm sitting here chained to the *^%$ laptop. She is buying fresh vegetables in the market and doing something meaningful with her time. I am making sure that Donald Duck has an orange bill while wishing for more (positive) amazon.com reviews for Stalking the Wild Dik-Dik.
She was in Adjumani last year when I was in Murchison Falls. My pals Andrea and Ivo were in Adjumani and they used to have to drive the long way around, through Murchison and across the Nile on the Paraa ferry, to avoid a semi-dangerous route. I think Pernille drove this route too while I was there, but I'm sure I would have stopped her if I'd ever seen her go by in her red truck. I do remember seeing an MS Uganda truck once in Kabalagala but we only exchanged waves (as I was riding in a truck from a similar German agency).
I'm still jealous, but I've been reading Pernille's blog long enough to trust her and enjoy her stories and her photos. As I write this, she's in the Hotel Equatoria in Kampala. I kept meaning to go and check out the rumored laundromat near there, but instead I just washed my clothes (and sometimes Herr Marlboro's when he was in town too) in the bathtub. I once managed to scratch the tub with H. M.'s Levi's. After that, I let him do his own laundry since he was better at it.