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Kyla Love

February 28, 2021

I rang up my friend and Elite NYC booker Krisana yesterday and she mentioned that everyone had just left town after NYC fashion week... fashion week?! I'd completely forgotten what February means in the world of fashion. Between limited Internet and press access and a general disconnection from most aspects of my normal life, I think it's safe to say I'm completely clueless about the current trends.

These days, instead of hitting Paris' cobblestones with black boots on my feet, I'm traipsing through the dust of Busolwe's streets (you'll need to drive an hour out of town to find a paved road) in arch-support sandals. Their soles are almost thick enough to keep the dust from blanketing the bottoms of my feet. But I'm already getting ahead of myself... let me start at the beginning.

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Valentine's Health Day


Waking up, I stretch for a bit before crawling out of bed from underneath my mosquito net. I go to the bathroom, squatting over a pit toilet, which I flush with a cup of water scooped from a bucket on the floor. On the way back from the bathroom, I pass through the hallway which doubles as a food-preparation area, and an open door, which leads outside to the cooking house. The 'cooking house,' as I call it for lack of a better term, is a poorly ventilated hut with cooking pits dug into a section of raised earth, pots sitting over open fires. During meal preparation times, this room fills with eye-stinging smoke, but Rebecca, the female head of the household, or 'Grandma', doesn't seem bothered by it.

After getting dressed, I eat a breakfast of fruit and peanut butter (which we buy on weekend trips to the city) in the living room with Nadine and Mr. Hirome, our home stay dad. Mr. Hirome is also known as 'Grandpa' or Muzei, which translates as 'old man.' He is a clan leader, which means our meals are sometimes interrupted by clan members who bring their disputes to his door for discussion or ask for money or food. Most mornings we also find Eddie and Freddo on the living room floor, playing as four-year-olds do, and making us laugh. Lately we've also been joined by Pussy Cat and her three young kittens.

Today, we travel to the library by boda-boda. This is how many people get around in Ugandan towns and cities, and probably the closest thing to a taxi. The boda-boda resembles a motorcycle with an extra long seat, on which it is not uncommon to see an entire family - man, woman, baby, and child - perched. I've also seen a bedframe encircling its boda-transport, and Nadine once spotted a coffin being transported in a similar way. I wrap a scarf around my mouth and nose - anything faster than a bicycle kicks up a cloud of dust behind it as it crisscrosses the road. I say crisscross because no part of the road is off-limits: drivers will go anywhere on either side of the road or its shoulders to avoid potholes, veering back to the left side only moments before oncoming traffic collides with them.

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Ivan the librarian (left)


Arriving at the library, Nadine and I review our upcoming projects before settling into the task of organizing the library, labeling every book according to subject for the first time. Our hope is that this will enable library users to find and re- shelve books without having to ask our Librarian, Ivan, for help. With only about 1,050 books, the task is manageable, and giving some order to the books makes it clearer what we do and do not have. Do: contemporary classics (donated by the American Embassy), about 40 hardcover children's novels from the '60s, and four books which fall under the classification 'African Studies,' among others. Don't: poetry, non-fiction, humour, recently published (within the last 10 years) novels, etc...

At lunchtime, we walk to a 'restaurant,' (one bare room curtained off from the street and filled with three tables and nine chairs) for lunch, stopping in at the 'supermarket' along the way to see if they have any yogurt. They don't. What the tiny room does have, though: softdrinks, water, hair-relaxing and conditioning products, Q-tips, notebooks, biscuits, and candies. We discovered after the first week that chocolate is not sold in Busolwe - possibly because it would be almost impossible to transport it here without it melting.

We eat the same lunch every day, and at 50 cents our feast is unaffordable for most of Busolwe's residents. Our table is loaded with beans, salad, posho (made by grinding maize into flour which is then boiled), chapatti, rice, potatoes, and cooked cabbage. 'Salad' at lunch means raw cabbage and tomato, but as raw vegetables are not commonly eaten in Uganda (I had to specially request it at our restaurant), the word 'salad' is widely used to refer to any combination of raw vegetables.

After lunch we have a women's class at the library. Ivan takes some of the students to teach them ABC's, while Nadine and I work with the women who already know how to read and write. Today, as the power is out and computer training therefore not an option, we try to generate some discussion around two health books Nadine and I purchased on a weekend trip to a city. One is called Where Women have no Doctors, and the other is about nutrition in Uganda. Unlike the last books we purchased in the city, these ones aren't photocopied rip-offs. I get a chance to ask one woman, Rachael, about health problems women in the community face. She tells me most of the problems relate to family planning.

The two methods accessible to women here are the pill and injections. Sometimes doctors at clinics neither question nor test a woman's blood before giving her injections, leading to health problems for those whom the injections are not suitable for. Other times, women miss pills and become pregnant without knowing it, while continuing to take the pills.

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Card Making


Here, Rachael told me, if a women wants to stop 'producing' (having children) and have her tubes tied, she must have five or six kids, and her husband must go to the hospital to sign that he accepts the procedure. This is due to problems hospitals have dealing with husbands who show up complaining and threatening staff after their wives have had their tubes tied. The husbands may even try to have doctors or clinic staff arrested by the police. The authors of Where Women have no Doctors wrote that "family planning should always be a woman's choice," but life is not so simple for the women of Busolwe. Grandpa Hirome once explained to me: "When we talk of family here, mine is a small one with ten. In the past the only wealth was children."

After study, we all come together for a basic yoga class. It's been a challenge figuring out poses the women can do in their ankle length skirts - women wearing pants in rural areas of Uganda are frowned upon - but I've managed to come up with a simple routine that everyone seems to enjoy. Many of the women have young children, who join in too - I once had to ask Ivan to translate "we don't really do yoga with babies on our backs," as one woman showed up for class with a child tied in a blanket on her back. The class always gets us all laughing and is undoubtedly the highlight of my Tuesday.

Until next time,

LO
VE

More about the Busolwe Public Library:
busolwepubliclibrary.yolasite.com

Further inquiries or to support the Busolwe Public Library's projects:
life_is_good3@hotmail.com

Kyla Love is an Liz Bell model, currently volunteering in Africa.

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Blogs We Follow

Dana Drori (BlackBook blog)

Cailin Hill (The Model Burnbook)

Liis Windischmann's (14+ LouLou blog)

Ania Boniecka (A n i a . B)

Kyla Love (thevulgareye)

Laura Kell (Glamazoned)

Jasmine Foster (A Model Student)

Nadine McAdam (fearlesslyfloating)

Madison Schill (Chic Greek Geek)

Britt Schafer (Quiddity)

Shawn Dezan (motivated//ambition)

Kelly Bean (Bean Around The World)