Total Eclipse 2024

Total eclipse shot in Pennsylvania. Photo by Mary Ongwen

You guys, this eclipse thing exhausted my head.

It was in every second article on my news feed, my social media platforms, school…I couldn’t get away but I also couldn’t be bothered. 

Mr. O mentioned it twice, once like two months ago and then last week, just to make sure I’d cleared my schedule. 

I was like yeah, yeah! 

He read up on it, mapped out routes, and locations for the best view. I should have taken note. Dude patiently waits for people to come around.

When something is major, it’s major. 

After 23 years I should know he’s right—99.9% of the time. 

So I asked, what time we needed to start the journey, he said 6:30am 😳.

I mean I love nature and I’m usually up by 6:30am but for some reason when it’s outside my plans it’s as if eh?!

6:30am, I was up and ready. 

Snacks were packed—road trip-ready on Monday morning, can you handle?

We drove for a long time. I finished an office assignment, listened to podcasts, music, slept, snacked…

But by the way let me first tell you. 

We stopped at a Pilot truck stop—like a fuel station with a supermarket. I went in to pick a thing or two when an announcement went out.

“The showers are ready. If you are a truck driver and need to take a shower please stop by.” Eh!! 😳

Ok, I’ve paraphrased but the message was the same.

I looked around. People were just going about their business.

Again the announcement went out “Shower number 5 is ready” 

You guys! 

The supermarket has a business model which includes showers for long distance truck drivers—how convenient?! Do you see how valuable this could be on the road to Mombasa, Masaka, Mabira…?

People be thinking—where’s the need? How do I solve for it? Nga they become billionaires.

So we reached our destination. Groups begun to gather. Around 2:30 pm Mr. O got out foldable chairs and the eclipse paper shades. He sat down and continued to read his magazine. I was like ok, tuli wano! Now what?! 

I checked, the sun looked crescent 🌙, then less crescent. Clouds kept floating over the sun. 

Mwana! I was concerned that the clouds would cover the event. I didn’t even know what to expect. Maybe darkness at noon?

Me: “Has it happened?”

Mr. O: “No, not yet. They said it will happen between 3:15pm and 3:19pm”

Me: 😳 You mean it was pinned down to the second? Wabula humans need to be watched, they can be too dangerous for their own good.

It was 3:16 pm.

Suddenly temperatures dropped, there was a chill in the air.

It began to grow overcast.

Some guy in the distance let out a yelp. We were like, now what? Was he the only one seeing the eclipse nga the rest of us were also there? 

Turned out to be pre-excitement.

In the moment, the sun and moon directly overlapped. Then it was as if dark, as if light. Like a choir of angels, like the chime of winning those coins in Mario video games (am I dating myself?) 

Ok, like the cheer when Maradona scored the winning goal at the World Cup. Banange! Let me stop with these examples. I’m as if digging. But you get it no? 

Only thing is that all of this was happening in my head. 

I begun to pray, I didn’t even know I was skipping around—making a whole lot of noise—few a privy to this madness. 

Mr. O quietly marveled at the eclipse—it was magical, spiritual even. I wondered how he stayed so calm.

The eclipse took all of four minutes. 

I couldn’t settle, I became super talkative—I like those stars (sun and moon) and now together? It was a total eclipse, my heart raced fast-fast.

Imagine, in all this drama, I manage to reach for my camera, switch the lens, insert the SD card and steady my hands for a shot. Like 😳😳. 

I’m getting used to fearing me also because eh!

Mr. O: “I should have recorded this.”

Me: “It’s hard to capture on phone” 

I was thinking of the instructions: directly looking at the sun can result in permanent damage.

The glasses had strict instructions “Prior to each use, thoroughly inspect the product for any signs of damage, tear, punctures or separation from the frame.”

Ko Mr. O: “No. I mean I should have recorded your reaction.”

🥰🥰🥰🤭🤭🤭🤭

Total eclipse of the…

My Ugandan pancakes go missing after flight

I started 2024 with missing luggage after a flight home from Uganda.

Immigration officer: Where are you coming from?

Me: Uganda

IO: What was the reason for your travel?

Me: To see family

IO: How are they doing?

Me: They are well, thank you.

IO: How much money are you bringing into the country?

Me: (Thinking to myself—"dude is this a trick question?”) I said, “None really”.

IO: Welcome back!

With that I went off to pick my luggage.

I scanned the luggage conveyor belt for a while… nothing. Exhausted but chill and with hubby still way out, navigating the highways, I took my time. I watched the luggage spin round and round: green cases, black cases, pink cases, checkered cases, cases with bright colored strings (you know the pieces of cloth torn off dresses or belts—the ones used to tie sacks of cassava or millet? Ya! People real know how to mark their luggage, so it stands out).

My cases: one maroon-soft cover and one green-hard cover were nowhere in sight.

A muffled announcement came over the airwaves, I heard “…Mary Ong”, unless there was an East Asian with a similar name, I had a feeling it was meant for me. Not good.

I traced the voice to the counter. A little East Asian lady dressed in blue and white uniform hustled with disgruntled passengers concerned about their missing baggage.

I introduced myself, she begun to stutter “Yes please! Your bags… didn’t arrive. I don’t know…” She handed me a printed form—my name.

She continued, “We will deliver your suitcases in a day or two...” She looked worried as she handed me a pen—probably thought I was about to cause a scene. There’s a way one looks after a long flight—angry Black African woman vibes—those things. I had flown over 20 hours halfway around the world—Uganda to Rwanda, Rwanda to Doha, Doha to D.C. And now my chapati and kabalagala (Ugandan pancakes) were out there somewhere, alone and frightened. No, I wasn’t in the best mood.

I narrowed my eyes, looked down at the lady (nanti she was like 4 feet tall) and with gritted teeth said, “Look here Miss. my bags had better be found. No one messes with a Ugandan woman and her kabz.”

Ok, if you believe I said that to the lady, we need to talk. Hahaha.

I wrote a description of my suitcases, signed the form and went off to find my people.

The baggage arrived at my door two days later and all was intact. The cool temperatures outside helped preserve the chapati and kabalagala. I placed the valuables in the freezer and now, for the next two weeks or a month (depending on my self-control) I have some easy meals—chapati and chai garden tea.

The hustle of living away from home—bu simple pleasures naye!

Happy New Year!!