When I told my two daughters I was going to Uganda, they laughed. “If you eat a banana, you have to video it!” they said.
Let me explain. Because of some strange childhood trauma, I hate bananas. Now, you are probably thinking this apparently innocuous fruit would be the least of my concerns traveling as a woman alone in a country that produced the demented Last King of Scotland, Idi Amin, and the crazed Joseph Kony whose army of abducted child soldiers terrorized the north until 2006. Not so. As I traveled from one village to another, my only real worry was how inevitable the video was beginning to seem.