Met with people from the inspectorate (of schools) in the morning and afternoon- Mr. Garvey Williams and Mr. Alex Smith and Mr. John Kiwanuka. At the time, education in Masaka fell under the Buganda Government]. Interesting but very little that was new. Also Mr. Zake, the Minister of Education came out for a few minutes. Tragedy: My wallet stolen from my pocket in the Silver Springs swimming pool dressing room. My own fault. Foolish of me to leave it there. Oh Well. (LAP). [Of course everything was new; I just could not see it.]

January 8, 1966
Not much. Shopped relaxed and rested. Bought a radio. Pary at Bill Canby’s. A bit much. Especially the AID people but interesting. A lot to drink but somehow it doesn’t appeal to me.

Dr. [Vivian] Chang certainly amazes me. Certainly does not act like an M.D. (at least my stereotype). She is certainly low keyed, and very friendly. Very close and interested in the PCV’s, but not just from a medical point of view. [She went on to serve as an Assistant Surgeon General in the U.S. Public Health Service].

Tonight [is] our last night at Silver Springs. The real thing starts tomorrow around 6:00 (P.M.) (LAP).

CHAPTER FIVE
Masaka

January 9, 1966
Today we said goodbye to everyone [Hotel employees I guess] and trundled off to our school. Along the way we saw men on bicycles with their wives and children on the wives’ backs. God, what beautiful people they are, and how relaxed they are as they do things I would find physically impossible. I began to resent the way in which Kerr kept honking at them but he speaks highly of them so –si jui [don’t know]. I reserve my opinion of him right now because I want to observe him more fully. I can say however that I have might doubts. We had dinner with the Kerrs tonight here at the Tropic Inn. It was interesting and we are a little more assured about our jobs. I now feel that they will be hard- but at least not impossible.

Everything is so different here- we are slowed down because of the tropics, the lushness of the flora is almost anesthetizing. I feel that we should have to struggle to escape from the claws of creeping colonialism. By that I mean simply the leisure class hang up. We couldn’t really afford it but we almost could, and it could be fun for a while. [American understanding of the British relationship to its former colonies continues to draw me. After almost fifty years of academic life I am still not sure I have gotten it like. It’s historical significance cannot be denied].

Driving along the road today I was struck by the fact that the dung and wattle huts no longer seemed pathetic. I think this is why- in America, such a rich land, it is sad to see anyone without- it is inexcusable. Here, if a ‘man’ has a dung and wattle hut with s tin roof you are glad he does not only have a thatched hut; and if a man has only a thatched hut he has any hut. A man who lives in a hut here is rich not poor. This is not to say that he is not deprived –it is rather only to say that he is not as deprived as he might be. (FMP).