Tentacular Times at the Octopus

The Octopus is a roadside pub across the road from Enid's neighborhood.  It is owned by Rotarian Adrine, and her husband, Benjamin, helps run it.  A few men were sitting at a table outside when we arrived, Benjamin was sitting with them.  Enid introduced me to him and we went inside. The lighting was dim and  I could not make out the features of people's faces very well but they could see mine.  My face reflected what little light there was like the moon!  As a munzungu, I am not sure if this is an advantage or disadvantage...

Enid ordered our food and a beer for each of us.  I thought it was strange when she asked me if I wanted my beer cold or warm.  Warm beer?  Apparently that's how most Ugandan's drink it, and it has to be in a glass (according to Enid, it is sexy to drink your beer from a glass).  I enjoy my beer cold and I like drinking it from the bottle. In this environment, my beer drinking habits set me apart more than my munzunguness (I just made up a word).  If I didn't feel like a minority before, I definitely felt like one now...We waited for our food...and waited... I was having a second beer and it still hadn't arrived.  In the meantime Enid got a call from her cousin Amos.  He had seen her van out front of the Octopus and called to see if she was actually there.  Enid responded by saying that she was and she had her guest, Jenny, with her.  Amos and his wife decided to join us.  At this point I had started a third beer, and our food had finally come, bits of pork roasted over coals on the salty side, served with a type of tomato and onion salsa.  It was worth the wait!  I loved the saltiness of the pork and the way the tomato and onions complimented it.   

Enter Amos.  Amos was just funny.  He was a great conversationalist.  His wife Judith was lovely, but a little on the quiet side.  Amos and I chatted away.  He had great questions about American culture and interesting observations about his own.  He wanted to buy me another beer and I said no because 3 is my limit.  He insisted and I agreed so as not to hurt his feelings.  It was already close to 10pm, so i had paced myself alright, but the beer was starting to go through me and the bathroom wasn't the most accommodating.

I suppose if one wants to have an "authentic" experience in a foreign country, the best way to do that is by using a public restroom.  It is very revealing.  The restroom at the Octopus was located outside, behind the building. All you have to do is go down the uneven, unlit alley between the Octopus and the abandoned building next door, step up on a one foot ledge, and take the second door on the left.  The light was out, but thankfully I had my phone and turned on my LED light and put it on the shelf behind me reflecting up at the ceiling.  The toilet was what I call a "squatty potty". It was a porcelain toilet in the floor, so you have to squat to use it.  Definitely not standard fare in the US.  And to make this potty trip even more special, the door did not latch.  I had to reach over with my hand and hold the door closed while I took care of business single handed.  The only redeeming part to this situation was the presence of toilet paper which was not always a guarantee in a public toilet. Thankfully I only had to use the toilet 2 more times, and my phone battery lasted up until my second trip.  The third trip I got to do it all in the dark, and did so successfully. Not bad for a munzungu, even if I do say so myself.

Before the evening was over, Amos bought me another beer, #5.  I was not inebriated in the least, by the time I finished the 5th beer we had been at the Octopus for about 4 hours.  I was tired though, and was suffering more from the effects of jet lag than alcohol consumption.  We finally left a little after 11pm, and by the time we got home and I had showered and gone to bed, it was midnight.  My ride would be there at 7:30am the next day.  I knew I was going to be a hurting unit in the morning, and I was right...