Tell Obama I said hello…

After an untimely economic crisis and a controversial health care reform plan, President Barack Obama’s popularity ratings are falling quicker than a Ugandan rain (September brings the rainy season here). Now I won’t reveal my personal political views (although you may have a hunch) as it is often advised not to discuss politics with friends. But I feel it is completely appropriate and worthwhile to discuss the Ugandan view of the newest resident of the White House (or as the ever-joking Dr. Carol, my host counselor says, the Black House).

I have encountered the Obama obsession in numerous and sometimes peculiar ways. Just yesterday I went shopping in Ntende, a neighborhood within Kampala, and purchased some passion fruit at the local Obama Grocery. On Sunday I was at a local sports bar watching the Manchester United versus Manchester City football game (and yes, football to me is now soccer). Above the door to the restaurant two pictures were hanging: President Yoweri Museveni of Uganda and President Barack Obama of, well, you know. During my first week, I was searching in the local market for the best chipati (a fried, yummy, flat bread) and stumbled across a man selling “Obama Chipatis.” Of course I had to purchase one and, although they were made in the exact same way, I must admit they did seem to taste a little more delicious. One of the other Rotary Scholars went to the post office (Lola, Daddy, and Uncle Denny: I haven’t visited yet, but I promise to check it out) in the hopes of sending home a letter with a President Museveni stamp. Sadly, all they had to offer was the big-eared, grinning you-know-who.

Obama Grocery

Perhaps the most revealing testament to Obama’s popularity has been my interactions with the Ugandan people. When boarding a boda-boda for a rugby game (my new obsession), the conductor asked my friend from New Zealand if he had voted for Obama. When talking to an elderly man at the grocery store he asked me to tell my President that he said hello (if you happen to be reading this Barack, Joseph from Checkers Supermarket in Kampala is a big fan). My favorite Obama interaction thus far was definitely when a rather opinionated woman on the taxi attempted to convince me for 10 minutes that Obama was actually Ugandan (although very persuasive, I’m still pretty sure his father was from Kenya).

As I sit and drink the tasty house coffee from 1,000 Cups Coffeehouse (if you’re ever here and are addicted to caffeine, definitely your hangout), a teenager sitting across from me is sporting his Vote for Obama t-shirt. Although overwhelming at times, his face on shirts/pants/shoes/signs/buildings/bumper stickers/key chains/mugs/any inanimate object is a pleasant reminder of home…

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