Park Like an Idiot

A friend of mine has these stickers and used one the other night when we were in a crowded parking garage. There's something so satisfying about leaving this friendly reminder for that guy with a fancy car who takes more than his share of a parking lot.

Check out the site: http://www.iparklikeanidiot.com/. This is the perfect gift for the person you know who is always complaining about the way people park. They aren't permanent so you can have a free conscience when sticking one on a vehicle.

January in November

I haven't blogged in a long time. So you know how when you get back together with an old friend after a long while, it is sometimes hard to get talking? Isn't it true that the weather is usually a great way to break the ice? Well, here are my weathery chats:

It's November, but it feels like January outside. I was told that I shouldn't think it's cold and I'll feel warm. I keep putting this idea to the test. This is what I've found:

1. It doesn't make it easier to go out the door
2. Once I get used to it, it's true - maybe it isn't that bad.
3. It might not be that bad, but it isn't June outside. It is really COLD!!! So is this mind trick a brink of my integrity? Am I lying to myself?

buurrrrrrrrr!!!! You'd think a South Dakota girl could handle it. I remember walking home from school when it was in the 10s. I remember scraping my windows before and after seminary class. I remember shoveling snow off the driveway with dad. I remember making deep winding snow forts in the banks that would pile up at the end of our driveway.

But, I don't live in South Dakota any more! However, I shouldn't fool myself and think that Washington, DC is going to treat me any better. It is known for it's humid windy winters that bite your bones. No joke - it bites!

I'm beginning to think cold weather gets colder as I get older - doesn't matter where I live.

Hmmm. I wonder how I'd feel about cold weather in Florida...

Great day!

I think I've been smiling for 13 hours today! Lots of great things are happening in my life right now. I love my job, I have sweet roommates, my car works, my room is cute, I get to see and do a lot of cool things, I have a great new hair cut, I can go on and on.

Today, I am especially grateful and have much to be excited about -- I found out that I've been accepted to the MPH program at Johns Hopkins! I'll start classes part time in January. This is such great news!

Updates Galore!

Since it's been a while, so I have a couple updates:


First of all, let me tell you about Teacher Grace. We are closer to a solution for her - a generous hospital and surgeon have offered to cover the expenses free. Right now, we're helping her get a visa and then we'll get her a plane ticket. You know, beyond the fact that Grace was like family for me while I was in Uganda, I feel like I have access to so many resources. If something like this happened to me, I would have urgent care available at my fingertips. I'm grateful for the opportunity to share my resources and to bless her life. It makes me that much more appreciative of the happenstance that I was born in this affluent country.



My second update is best explained by a picture:


This is Bryson. I like this picture of him. He is my tall handsome boyfriend. He and I have had a ton of fun this summer enjoying the DC area and going on excursions. We've been great friends for several years and now it's wonderful to be dating him!

Help Teacher Grace!

I received this email from my friend Ruth who is still working at AAH in Uganda. I am very concerned about Teacher Grace's condition. THANK YOU to everyone who has helped so far! I ask all of you who are able or willing to give financially or help medically to consider donating to her cause. Please email me if you are interested!

Dear all,

I want to give you an update on Teacher Grace's medical condition, which is extremely serious. Since my arrival in Uganda, Grace has been moving around the country, from doctor to doctor, seeking a clear diagnosis and treatment plan for the discomfort and swelling she has experienced around her right eye since 2006. By May it became clear that she would have to seek treatment in Kampala, and since then she has made approximately five trips to the Mulago hospital eye clinic. I accompanied her on two of these trips, and experienced first-hand the incredibly long waiting times and low standard of care. However, there is currently a team of visiting eye specialists at Mulago, and this week Grace was able to get an appointment with them. Yesterday she updated me, and the news was not good. The visiting specialist stressed that this is an extremely serious condition that should have been operated on months ago. The official diagnosis is "Orbital apex tumor involving the sinus and extending to the optic nerve." She has almost completely lost vision in her right eye, although that may be reversible. The tumor has been steadily growing, and has extended into the brain. It has become a neurological issue and will require a complex surgery that the specialist insists *cannot be performed in Uganda.* He recommends undergoing the surgery in the US or India. That is all the information that Grace was able to give me. The specialist has asked her to return to her previous doctor at Mulago to obtain a comprehensive final report on her condition, and then see him again so that he can make an appropriate referral. Grace plans on doing this during the first week of the term break (August 18th) and I plan on accompanying her. I am hoping to talk to the specialist and get as much information as possible about the condition and a way forward for Grace. One thing is clear though, she is going to require extensive financial assistance in the near future.

Her expenses have already included several tests and scans, as well as the transportation and accommodation necessary for each trip to Mulago. Charlee has been working hard in the States to raise money for this, and raised $700. I loaned Grace an additional $400. However, the expenses outlined above have already consumed the bulk of this money. Although I need a lot more information, I would imagine that Grace is now facing travel and medical costs in the thousands of dollars. I am wondering what AAH can do to help one of our most valuable staff members. Anyone who has visited the school knows that Grace works miracles with the P1 class and is one of the most consistent and capable teachers we have. I will continue to act as a liaison and keep everyone up to date on any information I can gather.

Thanks,
Ruth

Teaching Kindergarten

I taught kindergarten for a few weeks this summer to do something with my unemployment status. I thoroughly enjoy kids and learning. The glimpse at good ole school days made me nostalgic and question my choice of profession. Here are a couple stories from July 11.

School was awesome today! Today I was in Pre K and the students are crazy. We learned about oceans and when a picture of ocean animals was shown, one student pointed to a whale and said, "That's an orca whale, sometimes it is more commonly known as a killer whale." OK, Mr. Smarty pants! This was the same boy who put on a dress during "choice time."

Today was Fantastic Friday and we started the day with drawing pictures of what we would do if we could do anything on a fantastic Friday. I saw lots of swimming pools. One kid said he would rather watch TV so he drew a TV. When I asked him what his favorite TV show is, he threw both fists towards his head, crinkled his nose, and in a crackly voice he said, "Oh brain, why don't you tell me these things... what is my favorite TV showww?" It was hilarious.

Helping Orphans

The sun-exposed village of Mwaraha sits below a patch of eucalyptus forest on the top of Bunasaba, a foothill of Mt. Elgon in Eastern Uganda. Only subsistence farmers live there. Domestic animals roam freely, matooke trees sway in the slight breeze, and men lounge in the hot afternoon sun. The only road to Mwaraha is a small trail on the ridge of the mountain, from which the view of farm patched countryside in the valley below is dotted with mud huts and glaring tin roofs. Nabutsale Agnes and her six grandchildren live in one of those mud huts. Looking from above, one sees the concrete outline of two coffins. In Uganda, these six children are considered orphans – one or both parents have died.

One hot afternoon in February 2008, I joined a small group of volunteers hiking to Nabutsale’s home to bring the children clothing. Nobody was home when we arrived. The hut had just two wooden chairs in the front room, a few clothes on the line, and a cow in the back yard. A couple chickens scurried off as we approached. The neighbors gathered around us. After our greetings, they stared at us, and we stared at them – a typical exchange for strangers who are mutually fascinated by each other, but have reached their limit of communication. Suddenly, a naked little boy came bouncing around the corner. He shook our hands and the neighbors laughed. Then he went to fetch Nabutsale from her field.

Nabutsale’s eyes lit up when she greeted us. She looked ancient and worn. Her florescent patterned dress was tattered from the fields and her hands were leathered. But she was gracious and grandmotherly. Her entire life revolved around rearing children in the face of poverty.

She was delighted at seeing clothing for her grandchildren. She embraced the awkward bundle close to her chest. She bounced her shoulders and whooped her voice in traditional song and dance, an unexpected energy from a woman that had only moments ago seemed so feeble.

Nabutsale left a strong impression on me. Her belongings were few and the children under her care were many. They had little access to medical care, clean water, and proper nutrition. They were susceptible to infectious diseases and likely victims of the disastrous impact HIV/AIDS leaves behind when it takes lives.

While in Uganda I saw things I had only read about in books. I saw how poverty a traps a family and halts its ability to thrive. I saw bellies burgeoning with schistosomiasis and small legs covered by welts from mosquito bites threatening malaria. I smelled babies who, after a night of high fever, vomiting, and convulsions, had been bathed with Imperial soap before coming to the health center. I saw adults with abdominal pain one day, then dead a few days later. I went to Uganda to teach in a primary school and manage a health center for the Arlington Academy of Hope. I left with a new perspective on humanity, global health, and the challenges facing the world I live in.

Malaria Education

Uganda has approximately 30 million people. In 2003, 12 million cases of malaria were reported in Uganda (globalhealthfacts.org). Malaria affects everyone and most families experience death of a loved one due to this treatable and preventable disease. The country is engaged in many efforts to reduce the disease and treat its victims. They still suffer from it tremendously.

While in Uganda, I saw many NGOs providing services to villages. Shortly after my arrival, I was invited by the local government chairman to watch a “health video” presented by Ox Fam. The entire village gathered in the school yard as Ox Fam vans rolled up. A team of young people got out with props and costumes. I quickly learned that “video” actually meant skits with dancing and singing in the local dialect. The theme that day was malaria. The crowd watched as actors showed them how to properly use mosquito nets and encouraged them to seek medical care when necessary. I was impressed by the way locals were involved in educating their neighbors and fellow tribe members.

Here is a video I took of the event:

Before I left, several friends told me, "Africa will change you." Yes it did. My trip to Uganda gave me a new direction. I am passionate about the work I did there and want to continue it in some way. This week I started working at USAID in the Bureau of Global Health on the President's Malaria Initiative. I am grateful for this opportunity and excited to help the people of Uganda and other countries to reduce the impact of malaria and ultimately eradicate the disease.

Favorite African Music

I just thought about the night I went to the Entebbe Resort and ate fried fish and chips. The place felt like it was really swanky in its prime, but still held its respect even though it would now rank low on the scale of modern establishments. It seemed like it catered to sketchy behavior and likely hosted much of it over the years. Maybe the best way to describe it is by comparing it to Mr. Z's in Omaha, NB which is a restaraunt that everyone knows is run by the mafia. The gate to get in is thick steel white doors. The yard is huge and the tables are set up with great distances between them. This is all beach front and has the allure of some 80s beach bar. I had a celebrity sighting there. Bobby Wine - Uganda's foremost popstar. He had an entourage of about a dozen gorgeous women and a few men. I watched him get into his pimped out Escalade and drive off. He had vanity plates that said something typical of a hot shot singer, but I can't remember it now. Anyway, one of his songs was popular on the radio and often got stuck in my head. I found it today on YouTube! Enjoy:

Catching up

As most of my readers know, I'm actually back in the United States. I miss Uganda everyday and think about my memories of it often. I learned so much from my experience there and am ever grateful for the change it made it me. Now I'm ready to start chatting about my life again. I'll continue to share memories from Africa as well as share updates on my current events. Thanks for reading!

Learning to Read

AAH students work very hard to learn how to read. They love our new library and the opportunity to take books home. Meet Nongola Nimrod, a P4 student. He likes to read out loud. He often came to our house after school to see what we had for him to read. He took on everything from short stories to articles in old issues of The Economist. I'm not sure he really understood much of about the context of current events and world issues, but he does say the words correctly.

Uganda must sees - you don't want to miss them!

A visit to Uganda should include many great attractions. Let me show you what I mean.

Mohingo Lodge at Lake Mburo in Southwest Uganda

Perfect pool at Mohingo Lodge

Now this is Africa.Zebras are so wild.Mohingo dining room and reception.Home sweet home for a night.Elands, gazelles, water buck, etc. everywhere.Uganda's crested crane.

And of course, Pumbas.

Sipi Falls in Central UgandaFirst waterfall. Second Falls.
View from inside the cave.
Above the third falls.
Fourth falls.
Third falls.

Our banda -Katie, Ruth and I loved this place.
Our view.

The Equator

0.00 degrees latitude - I'm an official member of the International Equator Club.

And yes, it's really true that water goes clockwise north of the equator and counter-clockwise south of it. And right on the equator, water funnels right down the middle.

Mountain Gorillas! - Northwestern Uganda

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera (yes, I woke up quite bright that day). As soon as Scott shares his pics with me, I'll have some to share.

Murchison Falls - Western Uganda

Scroll down to see safari photos from Murchison.

Uganda Roadwork

Don't be deceived when you hear someone speak about roadwork in Uganda. Your first impression will entail hopes of large scale construction where groups of six men stand around while one fixes the sea of potholes known as roads. Tone it down a bit! In fact change the tone completely. Uganda's roads are a lost cause at this point and only CHOGM could motivate any improvements. But now that CHOGM passed (CHOGM is the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting which was held in Kampala in 2007 - even the Queen came), Uganda's roads are once again going to pot.

Anyway, when one says roadwork, forget the roads and think exercise. Yes, roadwork is synonymous with jogging or running.

Villagers in Uganda aren't too keen on exercise, and rightfully so, considering that most of their daily work is physically exerting. The only time people ever ran was when a car was coming (get off the road completely in that case), when preparing for circumcision, and when training for football (soccer).

I already stand out; there's absolutely nothing I can do about that. But imagine what a sight it is to see muzungu running. The first couple times Ruth and I went for a jog were in the late afternoon. Bad idea - everyone sits in front of their houses after work. We were quite the spectacle.

One time, we had a trail of about 12 children behind us. All the kids wanted to spend time with us, even if it meant running (usually in their bear feet). As soon as they spotted us, they joined in. Here is Ruth's telling of this experience:

"One evening Charlee and I collected a posse of at least eight kids. As we ran down the dusty road, kids just kept joining in from the sides, running down from the banana trees and out from their houses. They effortlessly kept pace with their bare feet, and looked up at us expectantly. “We go to play football?” one asked. “No,” I managed to pant, “just road work.” He shrugged and kept rolling along. The age range was probably six to twelve. It was all a big game to them. The sun set and it was getting darker and darker. The trees were a black outline against the sky. At one point Charlee started humming the Chariots of Fire theme music, and the kids picked up the tune. We cheered and clapped and did high-knees and made sure everyone got out of the road when a matatu roared by. On the downhill approach to the guest house, we decided to do a little sprint. I went for it, all out, as fast as I know how. A little something inside me wanted to beat the kids. Up came eight year old Joshua on my right. He had no shoes, he hadn’t broken a sweat, and his little legs were spinning like a cartoon character. He kept looking right up at me with a giant smile on his face. He didn’t beat me, because he wasn’t aware it was a race. He just stayed beside me and had a good time all the way home. At the entrance to the guest house we did a quick “Gooooooooooo running club!” and went inside to carbo-load. It definitely beat the hell out of a treadmill. "

OK, back to me:

Another time I went running in my short shorts. I never did that again. All the men in the village laughed at me and cracked jokes with each other as I passed by. I realized they probably thought I was running in my underwear! hahaha!

The solution we found was early morning roadwork - like at 6 AM when the sun started to rise. Fewer folks are out and the kids are headed to school. Initially, we definitely got the "what in the world" looks from the villagers. But they quickly grew accustomed to our morning roadwork and it wasn't a big deal any longer.

Now I'm home and I see people running everywhere. They're all geared up and normal looking. I even went for a jog yesterday, but people still stared! Before I left, I gave my running shoes to Jeniffer, our housekeeper. Without running shoes, I opted for my good old Chacos. I wore them EVERYWHERE (you should see the tan lines on my feet) while in Uganda, so I figure they should work fine for running here. I guess it is kinda strange to see folks running in sandals these days.

I'm Back!

Wow! What an experience! I am so proud of myself for making Uganda happen! Going was the most fulfilling, challenging, and revealing experience I've ever had. I learned so much and in just a few months gained more growth and development than I ever could have imagined. I have much much more to say and tell about my experience so please continue to check my postings over the next few weeks as I wrap up a few more stories.

I was so sad to leave, but it's good to be home and I have much to look forward to.

I still have the same phone number and email address so feel free to give me a buzz or drop me a note. I love talking about Uganda so I want to hear from everyone of you!

Thank you! thank you! thank you! to all who lended support, read my blog, kept in touch, donated money, encouraged me, helped to get me there, and did (and do) many other things for me. SO many people had a hand in my journey to Uganda. I can't begin to tell you all how grateful I am and wish for each of you to know that I appreciate your part in my life!

Now I'm off to my next adventure! What ever that might be...

Silly kids!

Often, children would come and play on with us on our doorstep after school while they were on their way to fetch water. These little guys are so funny!

Be sure to scroll down - I added a few posts today

SO SO sad!!

4-25-08

I can't believe it's already the end of April. Today is the last day of term 1 and my last day at the school. My heart is SO sad. I realized that after my first month of being here, I dove in head first. I forgot about myself and my life and focused entirely on gleaning as much out of and giving as much to Uganda as I possibly could. In doing so, I've experienced what seems like a year's worth of discovery, growth, and fulfillment in just a few months. I'm practically Ugandan these days! (Ha! Not really - I'm coming to realize that I don't know anything about this country yet.) I lived it as fully as I could - I'm even dreaming in Uganda - in doing so I developed friendships, bonds, and a love for this country that I never imagined would be so hard to leave.

I cried last week when I said goodbye to some friends at the health center for the last time. After that rush of emotion, I thought I got it over with and leaving the school wouldn't be so bad. I was flat out wrong. This morning as I made my final trek up the hill to the school, tears came - just before I reach the school there is a small gathering of homes where about a dozen little ones race to greet me every day. They often are snot-nosed and dirty, but I can't help shaking their hands, giving high fives, and picking one or two up in my arms. Today was my last time for this daily treat.

How can I leave? I just don't know how to do it and it breaks my heart. Seeing these faces and hearing, "Mzungu, how are you," from the distance has brought me more joy than I can explain.

I keep telling the students that I want to put all of them in my pocket and take them home. I offered to pack them in my suit case, but they said they might die if we did that. They're probably right! They are sad too. They call me Teacher Jolly. Mostly because it's hard to say Charlee and also because they think I'm happy. I received a note from one that opened with, "Dear Teacher Jolly (Charlee)". I love that! But today I heard over and over again, in combination with tight squeezes, "Teacher Jolly, don't go. Please, come back. Please don't forget me."

I sat with the p6 class on the grass for a long time. They are so smart. I asked them to ask me questions. An hour and a half later we had discussed everything from what the weather is like in US to Obama vs. Hillary.

The hardest part of the day was saying goodbye at the assembly. Of course, we were running on African standard time (about 2 hours later than scheduled). My driver was already waiting to take me to Kampala. And any sort of assembly/ceremony in this country is a huge ordeal usually consisting of 'brief' (i.e 20 minutes minimum) impromptu speeches or remarks from everyone in authority or even present. Finally, I insisted that I had to go. Little did I know, but the students prepared special songs and dances for me and the teachers and Thomas, our headteacher, had a plaque to give me. I was so emotional. Even the LC5 (top local councilman) gave remarks of gratitude to me for my service. Now, that, I admit, was kind of weird considering that I never really met him, but the formality was special. Finally I had a moment to address the school. I just started to cry. Dahh!!!! Crying isn't very common in Uganda so I had 600 kids not knowing what to do.

I was so sad. It's so hard to leave these friends who I have done so much for and who have done equally as much for me. I hope I can come back. One day, I will come back.

Yoga on a Rock

People who know me well know that I love to stretch. I take every chance I can to touch my toes, reach for the sky, or practice yoga. Africa offers amazing, calm places for such pleasantries. On a rock. Over a cliff. Facing a lake. Viewing savanna. At sunrise. Ohmmmmm.....

Teacher Grace Needs Surgery - please help!

April 23, 08

Let me introduce you to a woman who I think deserves a teacher of the year award. Teacher Grace is AAH's P-1 teacher. In a nutshell, her teaching philosophy consists of loving, knowing, and guiding students personally. P-1 is probably the hardest class to manage - imagine 50 high energy five to seven year olds together in a classroom for the first time, many of which speak little or no English. Our p-1 class this year is remarkably rambunctious, but Teacher Grace leads them like water in a funnel. The sounds I hear at school are hard to describe, but they are beautiful and often involve chiming voices in unison obeying teacher Grace's commands. Her love for the students and their love and respect for her is readily apparent and worthy of great praise. She knows them each very well and even senses when something is not right. Just the other day, she reported to us that one of our student's mother passed away the night before and he came to school that day - likely to see and be with Teacher Grace. She is amazing.

Unfortunately, Teacher Grace recently started telling us of dizziness, loss of focus in her eyes, and headaches. She saw a few doctors in the area to find out what the problem is, but no one had much advice or even a guess diagnosis. She finally sought out an expensive CT Scan. The results showed shifting in the bones around her right eye that is causing pressure and loss of sight. The recommended treatment is surgery by the country's only surgical opthalmologist in Kampala.

I don't know Teacher Grace's salary; however, I do know that she already spent about 400,000 shillings for the doctors and the scan. I also know that the surgery is 600,000 shillings, she needs the money upfront, and I know she simply can't afford these expenses.

Fortunately for her, we worked it out so she will have the cash on loan (neither Ruth nor I, both volunteers, can afford to just give her the money). She is heading to Kampala to seek the care during term break.

When I crunched the numbers, I was appalled by the extremely menial amount her health care costs in US dollars. If I wasn't volunteering, I would just give it to her.

600,000 shillings is only $400.
400,000 /= is only $250.

Can you help Teacher Grace? I would like to find the money to pay for her surgery and medical expenses. Please let me know if you are interested in giving.

All I can say is the world is unfair and health care is expensive. Being in Uganda has shown me the vast disparity between the developing world and the western world, but also the similarities, including relatively expensive health care. There is SO much that can be done for poverty stricken areas. Often efforts are focused on macrocosmic health promotion projects and economic policy changes that have a trickle down effect. However, helping on the micro level (giving to an individual in need) can be most rewarding and still have far reaching effects. Teacher Grace's healthy eyes will allow her to continue to love and teach these students who have bright futures in store.

Being a Millionaire

April 22, 08

The shilling is the currency in Uganda. Kind of like the dollar sign the Ugandan shilling is indicated by a slanted capital F or /=

$1 equals about 1,650 /=. Where I live, people primarily maintain their existence through subsistence farming, although everyone tends to have something to trade and profit by at the markets from time to time. When people do make a salary, it typically ranges between 70,000-400,000 shillings a month. This is in the village - folks in Kampala and other cities often make much much more. What I've been told is that a Ugandan who is doing well in Kampala makes about 2.5 million /= a month.

Women selling vegetables at the market

I am millionaire for the first time in my life! I often withdraw cash at ridiculously high numbers - the feeling of carrying around two or three million in cash is something else!

Aside from the millions in my pocket, it is weird, I must say, to be SO rich. The contrast between the world I know and the life of one of my P-7 students is drastic. Being in the village has made me think a lot about the chances of being born in a rich country or a poor country. I can't fully fathom the magnitude of opportunity I have because of where I come from. I overwhelmingly feel the burden of where much is given much is required. I see so many solutions and feasible ways to personally contribute, but I'm afraid I will lose this mindset when I am back home. Oh, back home - I don't want to do it. I will be back some time next week. Depending on my weekend plans I might extend and go to Zanzibar. I went to Murchison Falls last weekend for safari. I would venture to say that nearly 98% of Ugandans have never been to Murchison. If only they had the means to go see the beauty of their country.

Modern Amenities Coming Right Up!

I would like to report a few vast modern improvements made in the village in the past few weeks. Our lives have been drastically revolutionized by such modern amenities as a running shower and toilet in the guest house, improved power supply from UMEME, the power company, and most significantly by internet at the school!!!!! Yes, you heard me, I'm writing to you from the comfort of our school's new library. Our service is provided by a fancy cell phone device that gives us slightly better than a dial up stream of access to the world wide web. This afternoon, I showed some students the AAH website. I'm not sure they fully comprehended that the rest of the world could also look at their pictures on computers. But these kids are bright and will catch on in no time. We are working feverishly to set up 8 school computers to the net, and we have a wireless router for all laptops that come this way. Seriously, I feel like this is the first time I've seen internet. It's funny though - my dependence on the net has completely abated. When I finally have the chance to use it, I don't really have much to do. I definitely don't feel like spending too much time blogging, and emailing is a waste of my time. I'd rather read my book, which requires less patience.

So today I took a shower after doing "road work" (running). I enjoyed electrical lights and hot water from our electric kettle, and now I'm on the net. The next thing I hope for is a paved road to the school. It's rained for almost 3 days straight now and the trek up the road this morning was a doozie. I didn't fall today, but I did last week. It was 6 am in Bupoto and I was catching the first matatu out. The steep hill from the clinic to Matuwa proved merciless as I slid, sloshed, and slipped to a stop on my trash!

Murchison Falls Safari

Scott Torres gets the gold star of the month award. His job takes him to Kampala so we've done some adventuring together.

We went on safari in Murchison Falls, which is in western Uganda (You can see Congo). Scott also invited our coolest friends to join us. Meet some of my Ugandan safari friends: Left is our driver, Fred. Then Esaw, Nambi, Me, and Jeffar

Murchison Falls is in the book, 1,000 Things You Should See Before You Die. It truly is incredible! Take a look:

As you can see, I really enjoyed myself!

Take a look!

This is a typical trading center store/home
I'm surrounded by mountains - I love climbing
View from Mt. Nusu
Going up!
View from the top

African Afternoon

4-10-08



I walked from Matuwa to Magale today. I went to Magale on a boda earlier this week. Magale is far. However, Peter asked me to go visit some of his family and he wanted to show me the market. When I asked him about getting there he said, "I know a short short." Haha! Note to self - short short equals totally ambiguous distance which is likely to be long. And long it was. We headed into the countryside on foot trails early in the morning. Little did I know that I was embarking on an adventurous day filled with hours of hiking, meeting family and friends, motivational speaking, pouring rains, smelling flowers, and cultural exchanges.



Shortly along the way we greeted friends at home where I learned about masonry. Most homes in the country side are mud huts with tin roofs and dirt floors and walls that are smeared with a mixture of manure and dirt. The people of this home were building an upgrade and were happy to explain firing and laying bricks. Fascinating, but I'll save the details for now.



Now, I want you to imagine rolling hillsides checkered with fields of matooke trees and beans and occasional dwellings. The soil is reddish and like clay. No power lines or roads. Listen and hear the occasional bhaaa from a goat and mooo from a cow. The place you're imagining is where we were hiking. OK, it's hard to imagine and I'm really sorry that my camera ran out of batteries.



A little further down the hill, we happened upon a primary school in the middle of nowhere - literally. As we approached the dilapidated buildings (the classroom for P-1 and P-2 was a skeleton of a building with corrogated tin siding that reaches only halfway up with a tin roof), I saw children poking and craning their heads to see their unexpected visitors. I wish I could explain the Ugandan child's smile and facial expressions. They're priceless. Now, whenever a visitor comes to a classroom the students stand up and in unison say, "You are most welcome, our visitor, this is P-two" (or whatever class). Then the visitor is expected to give a speach. So I did. In all seven classes, I told the children how special they are and how wonderful it is that they're going to school. I told them they should go everyday and learn as much as they can so their futures will be bright. Those smiling faces are so appreciative - it humbles me to realize that my presense is such a big deal to them.



Have you ever played the Ipod car game? On your next road trip try this. One person listens to the Ipod and is supposed to sing the song as loud as possible. It's hillarious. On our walk, I let Peter take the Ipod. I cracked up several times as he zoned out and started singing outloud to Frau Frau, Regina Spektor, Snow Patrol, Raindeer Section, Usher, Rianna, Immogen Heap, One Republic, Gnarls Barkley and yes, the Mo Tab Choir! Hahahaha!



The first thing I did in the morning was peak out the window to see the weather. Darn it - the clouds hovered low and promised rain. Peter and I were far from everything that is already far from anything when the rains started. We found shelter in a small mud hut home where three children were in the front room.



We visited Alice and Robert's home also. Peter told me Robert is his dad and Alice is his mayi. However, family relations are always confusing - everyone is everyone else's mayi or papa and everyone is everyone's cousin or brother or sister. Ugandans are given two names. Their first name is usually an African name that is from an ancestor or famous person. Their second name is usually their English name. Last names don't exist so siblings all have different names. As you can see, it's hard to tell who belongs to who. Alice and Robert served us soda and glucose bisquits and we were on our way again towards the Magale market.



Unfortunately the market closed down because of the rains. So we turned around and started walking back. We walked for hours already. Africa has taught me the lesson of going with the flow. I might have a plan but the likelyhood of it not working is extremely high. Flexibility is essential. I wanted to catch a matatu to Bubulo rather than go back to the village - I needed to go to Kampala the next day, but the rains guaruntee muddy roads and difficult options for transport. I quickly learned that communicating and executing this plan simply wasn't going work. Oh well, we headed back - I could leave in the morning.



We returned to Alice and Robert's where we were stuck because of rains once again. Initially I was annoyed and tired; however, I started paying attention to something that I'm so glad I was able to experience. That something is the African art of doing nothing. I saw how people spend their time and how they spend time together. It's hard to explain, but it was fascinating to just observe an afternoon of life in Uganda.



They served chicken and rice for lunch, which we ate alone - families wait in the back room while their guests eat - it's kinda awkward really. Then we spent the afternoon hanging out. Before long a few neighbors came by and we started chatting.



Communication is limited. I wasn't sure what to do or say. So I pulled out my computer. For the next hour and a half we watched slideshows of my photos. They saw my family, NYC, holidays and tons of Uganda shots. A few children were around so I made paper airplane and boy oh boy were they a hit. My Ipod was passed around the room with amazement. I also had a Rolling Stone magazine from March. Ha! I loved listening to two men read about Obama from one of the most liberal arts magazine in America. I wish I had more wholesome reading material to share, but this family and their neighbors were completely mesmorized by the things I shared with them. And I had so much fun sharing it!



We finally started back in the early evening. At one point, I smelled the most pleasant flower and Peter stopped to find it for me! I love that we stopped to smell the flowers! We reached back just in time for a beautiful sunset over the broken clouds in the horizon.

This was a cool day! I love my life!

Pictures!

I know everyone likes to see more pictures. Don't worry, I'm taking tons of

snaps; however, they're not easy to upload. Enjoy...

Last night's adventure

Two nights ago, we were stargazing. Last night, we performed surgery. Ruth had a worm in her foot! SICK! But it was taken care of. That's the risk we're willing to take when living here.

Stargazing: Uganda's HUGE sky

I read an article in the New Yorker Magazine a few months ago about light pollution. Quite interesting. I learned all about a non-profit organization in New Mexico that advocates for more efficient use of lighting in cities and neighborhoods. In a rather dramatic way, the article emphasized the scarcity of places in the world where the night sky is uninhibited by the haze of electric lights. The night sky in North America is particularly diminished by this problem.

Then I suppose the sky I see in village I live in is a rarity these days. Let me just say that Africa sky is HUGE! The stars are incredible here – especially when the power is out and out neighbor’s high beam light is not on. The moon cycles catch my attention more vigorously in Uganda. Probably because I wander to the latrine every night and notice how dark or light the night is.

There’s no moon this week and the rains haven’t been too bad, so last night, David, Ruth and I went stargazing. David has a program on his computer that shows us exactly what the night sky should look like on any given day and from any given location. We typed in Kampala (oddly, we had no luck when entering Bumwalukani). Suddenly, our big big and dark dark sky became a game of dot to dot. I was in complete awe! We spotted all sorts of stars, constellations and planets. By finding Mars, we found Gemini. Then we connected to Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. Before I knew it, I saw Taurus, Cannes Major and Minor, the Southern Cross, the Milky Way, Orion, and so much more. Best of all, we found Cancer. It is best because it is my sign. Oh what a lovely evening we had in Africa!

People and Problems

While the western world is debating important topics like should NYs governor go to jail, should prostitution be legal, and when is The Office coming out with new episodes (Nathan updated me on current events) the villagers worry about things like what they're going to eat for breakfast. They usually compensate by eating a huge dinner in case they won't get another meal until dinner the next day. They also worry about paying school fees, which are a joke considering that Universal Primary Education is a program the government boasts of. Education is available to all, but not without cost. Mostly, the "fees" consist of bags of cement and $30,000 shillings per term.

But I like the kids. They bring me the most perspective. They don't worry too much. It's pretty normal to see little ones with no pants on - not a worry. I'm sure they actually have pants, but their one pair is likely hanging on the line to dry. The kids don't really worry much about getting dirty either. Staying clean is not an effortless task in this place, so the kids forget trying all together. It cracks me up. However, one disconcerting picture you'll frequently see is one of these children without pants on carrying a panga about the size of his or her torso. A panga is like a dull machete useful in the fields.

I'm also learning lessons about child rearing here. Kids are treated much like adults. It's not unusual to see a four year old carrying a baby on her back like mothers do or to see a young child carrying a 10 liter jerry can full of water on his or her head. I tried to carry a 20 liter can with my arms and didn't even make it more than 50 yards. These kids also tend to act and talk like adults at very young ages - rarely bashful or fussy and always willing to shake a hand. They have the best carefree smiles! Muna muna - that means smile like when you take pictures. I think the way these kids are treated makes them behave alarmingly well and independent. They don't get spoiled or overly protected so they learn to fend for themselves. There are thousands of them everywhere (most women have 6-12 children) so they learn to get along with others. And they are expected to work as soon as they can walk so they never complain about having to do chores because it's just part of life.

In many ways, life is peaceful here. Villagers seem happy and have a good sense of humor. But I can't help noticing an undercurrent of conflict and violence throughout peaceful daily life. Yesterday, I was in a matatu (a taxi) riding back to the village from Mbale (the nearest town) and the lady next to me, with her son, was not able to pay the conductor for the ride. I was zoned out listening to my Ipod when the next thing I know, she flung her body over the seat at the man and started attacking him. She even ripped the shirt off of his friend. She settled down a bit, but the entire taxi was in uproar regarding the situation. She attempted to get out at the next stop, but the conductor wouldn't let her. So she tried to force her way out while he was slamming the door on her over and over again. Then she tried to get out through the window. I have this image in my mind of a woman's body half way through a van's sliding door window flailing back and forth as the conductor and others from the crowd that had gathered tried to force the door shut while her arm was in the way. It was horrific. As soon as she began to scream and cry I couldn't take it any more. I asked the woman behind me what the problem was and found out she wasn't going to pay the 2,500 shillings she owed. That's like $1.50 and I just went on a souvenir shopping spree and spent $45,000. I felt horrible and reacted without thinking. I suddenly was yelling at the conductor, "I will pay." He saw and heard me, but the violence didn't stop. At this point she was out of the car, but the gathered crowd was dense and didn't allow her escape. She was screaming and crying and everyone was yelling at each other. Her poor boy, 3 years old, was balling. I threw myself half-way out of the matatu between the woman and the conductor and took her face in my hands. In attempt to calm her, I told her to settle down over and over again and that I was going to pay. The conductor then said, "you pay - you give me the money." I grabbed my purse and gave him 5,000 for me and for the woman with her boy. That's all it took. The man drew back and the woman was free. A minute or two later, we're on our way. I was outraged! I can't imagine what was going to happen to that woman if I hadn't intervened. The rest of the ride was rather sober. Sensing a bit of cold shoulder from the rest of the car, especially the driver, I wondered if I did the right thing. Every one of those passengers could have used my assistance legitimately. I'm frustrated that people aren't good to each other. I'm frustrated that clearly that woman has more problems than just a lack of money - if everyone lacks money, what made her react violently? I don't know.

Life seems cheap here (I'm not the first to think that - Bono points it out in his foward to The End of Poverty by Jeffrey Sachs). The fact is people die a lot here. They die from curable and preventable diseases every day and they still kill and hurt each other. I saw 2 men arguing on the road while another lay on the side in immense pain. Would people quit arguing and help the man! Anyway, I'm rambling now and you are lucky we have power because this is turning into a long blog. (Having power is a simple joy in my life these days - when it's around, I'm especially happy.)

Everyone loves pictures

Women at the market

Matooke anyone?

Mbale town - it looks like a bombed out city, but it's actually pretty nice.

Heads are for carrying things.

This is Arlington Academy of Hope.

More pictures

See the mighty Nile at sunset

My shadow on a boda

Yes, that's a chicken!

Learning Lugisu

3-27-08

I returned to Bupoto yesterday. I like being here because the people teach me words in Lugisu. Lugisu, also called Lumasaba, is the vernacular of the Bugisu tribe here in Eastern Uganda. Learning the language fluently would take months, but gaining a few words here and there is a game for me. Interestingly enough, there are no written materials in Lugisu aside from the Bible. Spellings are relative and phonetic. Only a handful of consonants are used often and the vowel sounds are similar to Spanish vowels.

A sounds like ah.
I sounds like ee.
E – ay.
O – oh.
U – oo.

Ka – Kah
Kh – ch
Tsi – see
Tsa – sya
We – way
E – eh
Lyo – leo
Kii – ch
Nde – new

I have a book of SuDoKu and have taught a few of my friends how to play. By doing so, I’ve learned to count to nine (well, ten to top it off).

Ndwela – 1
Tsibili – 2
Tsitaru – 3
Tsine – 4
Tsirano – 5
Tsisesaba -6
Musafu – 7
Shinane – 8 (my personal favorite – hey, shi nay nay!)
Shyenda – 9
Likhumi – 10

A few phrases have come in handy:

Mazungu – unfamiliar visitor or friend (less PC – white person)
Now simili nabe – I’m very happy to see you.
Wan yala nabe – Thank you very much.
Wakhenyala – Thank you for your work or well done.
Mulembe – hello
Oriena - how are you?
Bu lyi – I’m fine, and you?
Komahoa – what’s new?
Komalyi – not much thanks.
Casala – nothing new, thanks.
Komapesa kenga - how does this cost?
Inganga – give me
Wamalye bilyo – the food is finished.
Wekure (sometimes said Nekure) – I’m satisfied or full.
Kamatore – bananas
Bilyo-bilayi – good food
Bilyo-bib – bad food
Inanasi – Pineapple
Kamachi – eggs (in Mbale they’re amaggi)
Inzala – I’m hungry
How hotsa hulia bilyo – the food is ready
Mazalla – friend
Obe mulyi – goodbye
Hokena hokena – do you want to sleep?
Itsa nano – you come
Hocanis – what do you want?
Yehalowas – sit down
Holias – why are you crying?
Hakana hulia – do you want to eat?
Warulyi – welcome back
Bahalanga barunanu – what is your name?
Hotsa wye – where are you going?
Nowkohle – I’m coming back.
Wangi – this is a respectful response when someone calls for you. It means I’m here.
Towe – no
Kale – yes
Imbawo – cold – not fine

And of course, all of these sounds and words can be different or function under different rules depending on where you are and who you’re talking to. If one person tells you how to say something, the next will tell you it is wrong and give you another mouth full to try. For example, in our village, corn, or maze, is called miande. In the north, it is called kasoli. In Mbale, it is called nabukubo.

That, my friends, is the extent of my lugisu expertise. I use most of those terms and phrases when speaking with little children and babies who don’t have to respond to my slaughtered babblings. Fortunately, English is the national language of Uganda and enough people speak it for me to not have a problem communicating. But I wish I had more time here so I could learn the lugisu. I would be far more effective if I could communicate with those around me.

If you have questions about Ligisu, contact John Wanda at ArlingtonAcademyHope@yahoo.com.  

Thoughts on Matatus

David is a funny guy with a lot of wisdom. He's worth featuring on my blog so here are a few of this thoughts on matatus (taxis).

Me: Have you been in many traffic accidents?
Driver: Not so many. No. I can not count them, but they were not so many.
Me: Have you been in any serious accidents?
Driver: Well, I have not killed anyone. No. I haven't killed anyone. Okay, well there was that boy. A student. I killed him.
Me: You hit and killed a boy?
Driver: Yes. Well, no. He didn't die when I hit him. Not immediately. He died later. They took him then he died.
Driver: He did not see two cars. He saw only the car in front of me. He tried to cross.
Driver: That was many years ago. I have killed no one in the last ten years. Not one.
Me: Have you had any traffic accidents recently?
Driver: I hit a bicycle last week. I got nothing from him. You see how my window is new? I had to buy a new window.
Me: Was he hurt?
Driver: He hit the road. I took him to the hospital for free and I got nothing from him. He was only hurt for two days. I had to buy a new window.

There is surprisingly little garbage here not because people are cleaner, but because people can't afford to purchase things which may come in a wrapper. If I dispose of an empty plastic beverage bottle someone always climbs into the trash heap to retrieve it because they need it to carry water. I am actually ashamed to put things in the trash heap simply because people will retrieve much of what I throw out. When our health center disposes of expired medicine we must burn it immediately or else people will take it from the heap to try and use or sell.The conductor procures two empty coke bottles from the empty cavity of the bus's door (certainly stored there for just such an occasion), flags down a boda boda (motorcycle taxi), and hitches a lift on it to the nearest gas station. We, the passengers, patiently wait for the conductor's return. There's some small talk- idle chit-chat. Upon returning, he pours the gas filled coke bottles into the fuel tank, then pops the front seat up to gain access to the engine (after running completely dry of gas the engine won't start until the fuel hose and carburetor are primed with gas). The conductor disconnects the fuel hose, places his mouth around it, sucks the hose to get the gasoline into it, and then - and this is my favorite part - spits the mouthful of gasoline that he invariably gets, into the top of the carburetor thus priming it. After priming the engine they get the bus rolling (which the driver prudently stopped on a grade), pop the clutch to start the engine (the starters on these vehicles have long since stopped functioning) and we are on our way. Just another trip to Mbale.



Negotiating is big here. Nothing, absolutely nothing, has fixed prices. The only thing that is constant is that the initial price a vendor gives me is the muzungu (white person) price. Even in the large stores of Mbale there isn't a price tag to be found. Before spending time overseas I remember being intimidated and bothered by flexible prices. We westerners do love to see a nice fixed price tag on everything. I think that there are now even non-negotiable car dealerships in the states- previously the last bastion of consumer bartering. I have come to appreciate the game of negotiating here and have found that it really is kinda fun. It demands a little research and some bluffing, but it really isn't a big deal. I am to the point now that in the event that a vendor's initial offering isn't the muzungu price and ten times higher than it should be, I am actually a little offended. It isn't done maliciously or to take advantage of some poor traveler - it is just how their system works. I suppose our system of cutting coupons out of newspapers or carrying membership cards would probably seem just as convoluted to people here. In addition to honing my negotiation skills, I have learned many other things in the short time I have been here. For example, in my second week here I learned that you should only leave your window open at night by a width equal to the largest animal you will tolerate entering your bedroom. I do (our shall I say, did) enjoy having my window open at night to let the fresh, cool evening breeze into my room. I awoke one night to what sounded like an animal scraping against the house outside of the window. I didn't think much of it at first, probably just a goat or something. After hearing it again, I pulled back the drapes and peered into the darkness with my headlamp. There didn't appear to be anything there. I flipped off the headlamp and tried to go back to sleep. After a few minutes I heard (and felt) what seemed to be something hitting the side of my bed. Thinking I was just paranoid (and somewhat comforted by the protection of my mosquito net) I tried to ignore it. After a few minutes I heard things being knocked from a shelf, inside of my room. Now I was spooked. I peered around my bedroom with the light of my headlamp but could see nothing. Sleep was definitely out of the question at that point, so I patiently sat with my headlamp on shining into the darkness waiting for a glimpse of my visitor. After a few minutes I finally saw what was quite possibly the largest rat I have ever seen, scurrying about my things. I spent quite a while just sitting there in bed, huddled behind the mosquito net, headlamp on, just watching him (or possibly her) run amok. Did you know that rats, even ones the size of a small dog, are quite fast and maneuverable? I considered trying to go back to sleep, hoping maybe he (or she) would just go back through the window at the end of the night, but it occurred to me that it would probably have to climb up my bed to do so. It took a while to acknowledge to myself that this was a situation that needed to be dealt with. As calmly as the situation allowed I lifted the mosquito net, stepped out of bed, casually put on my sandals (alright, maybe not casually I think the left was on my right foot and vice versa) and left my bedroom, closing the beast in behind me. Luckily the Headmaster was still around at this time (and awake- I swear that man never sleeps) so I explained to him the situation regarding my unwanted visitor. We confidently (at least he seemed confident) went back into my bedroom, each removed a sandal, shut the door behind us and squared for battle. It took a few minutes of both of us jumping around, swatting in every direction, and a few sounds that you may expect to hear from a startled schoolgirl (which Headmaster later told me emanated entirely from me) but we (alright, he) finally managed to bash it to death with a sandal. I didn't sleep real well that night.

I had my first official 'Doctor David' moment the other day. While enjoying yet another village wedding from the best seat in the house (the color of my skin seems to not only consistently get me placed at the head table of weddings - three so far - it also gives me the honor of making a speech, despite language barriers and regardless of whether I have ever actually met the bride or groom before) there was suddenly a cry from the children and a commotion around one child. An adult quickly ran to investigate and found that a child had fallen into a large hole dug for a not-yet-placed utility pole, and now had a foot covered in blood. Immediately, everyone's gaze suddenly fixed on me. It was a Saturday evening so our health center had already closed for the day and our nurse and nursing assistant had both returned to their homes in neighboring villages. I was on my own on this one. I considered trying to explain to the crowd the nature of my education and that I don't actually have any medical training, but I couldn't quite figure out how to effectively mime 'business administration and computer science'. I had the keys to the health center in my pocket, so I figured what the heck. A man from the village scooped her up and, as I rolled up my sleeves, we headed for the health center. I hadn't really realized that I was nervous until it took me two minutes to get all my fingers into the correct locations of the latex gloves. After removing a few pieces of debris and cleaning the wound with an antiseptic solution I was relieved to see that it was just a laceration (although quite deep and dirty) at the base of her small toe. I cleaned it the best I could and applied some gauze smeared with antibiotic ointment and wrapped it in medical tape (at which point I kept getting the fingers of my gloves stuck to the tape, causing a loud snap every time I became unstuck- this entire procedure with no less than 30 people huddled around me in a circle watching me work.) It wasn't until after everyone had left and I was locking up the health center that I noticed my sweat soaked armpits. All this for a girl with a small cut on her foot - I don't think I would make a very good doctor. I will be informing the village that from now on all injuries must occur Monday through Friday between 9:00am and 5:00pm or on Saturdays from 9:00am to 2:00pm. I am sure they will understand. I hope everyone is well.

Recommended Reading

The other day, I was telling David that when I reach back to the US, I want to become an infectious disease doctor so I can more affectively contribute to a clinic like the one I am in where people come with malaria, cholera, HIV/AIDS and TB. He recommened Mountains Beyond Mountains, by Tracy Kidder. I haven't been able to put it down. I am so inspired by this man's dedication to do more than just talk about eradicating health disparities and poverty, but to do something about it. I want to be like him.

Check out Ruth's Blog

I'm sharing this experience with a handful of friends. We didn't know much about each other until we "reached" (Ugandan's say this, rather than arrived, all of the time) Uganda.

Ruth is here for a year. She is awesome! Please check out her blog - she tells funny stories too. http://outofuganda.wordpress.com/.

Boda boda adventures

Currently, I'm running a new clinic in a village about 6 kilometers from Kenya. We have a comprehensive nurse, a midwife, and a nurse's assistant. I'm assisting with management and start up - I am working to get the clinic registered, to set up inventory and supply systems, and write reports, and complete the finishing touches on the buildings. Nothing in Uganda has a price tag on it so I'm getting really good at negotiating.

Also, transportation is crazy - I've mastered the boda boda ride which is a motorcycle. The other day, I was cruising up a mountain on a boda when it started to rain. Of course the road turns to mud and is super slippery. At one point, I thought we were going to fall off - we were swerving and fishtailing through the mud. At that point I told the driver I could walk - unfortunately, the mud got into the engine or something so it wouldn't start. So I walked. The mud oozed around my shoes. I am prideful about being a mazunga who can keep up so we booked it up the mountain. We walked all the way to the next trading center. It was about 5:30 in the evening so the entire town was out and about. Here I was, in the center of a village - the only mazunga for probably 5 square miles and my driver left me to find a another boda. I'm standing there with the entire village staring at me and the children gleefully pointing at me. All I could do was wave and say, "howdy." That wasn't very helpful, but soon enough my driver came to my rescue - not so much like a knight in shining armour, and we were off. From then on I felt like I was in a parade waving to all the people who view me as the craziest spectacle they have seen in weeks. hahaha!!

Paper airplanes

2/23/08

Saturday mornings here capitalize in lazy relaxation. Let me explain… I woke up this morning by the sound of a cock, of course. It was about 7:45. I rolled over only to recognize the African jams from a house down the road still blaring since the evening. Celebrations of every kind last ALL night long. Thank heavens I packed earplugs.

My list of unexpectedly most beneficial things I packed is as follows:
Earplugs (see blog entry about Shut the Cock Up below)
Head lamp
Oil of Olay just add water face cloths
Baby wipes
Nail polish
Beef jerky
Flash drive
Shampoo and conditioner in one (I never imagined using a combination formula on my hair for a continuous time.)
Cards and Scrabble (well, I didn’t pack them, but my friend Ruth did)
A Moleskin mini writing pad

SO back to my lazy morning…

I put in my earplugs and stayed in bed for another half hour. I read on my front porch for a while. I’m reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo – no better place than the other side of the world to accomplish an epic novel as such. Not long and the neighborhood children gathered around. They are quite content to simply stare at me while I read and they pile on top of each other in the corner and entertain themselves. So today I wanted to give them something to do. Ahah! I brought home colored construction paper yesterday for a project. We made paper airplanes! These kids were gloriously entertained by this simple contraption. I had 7 planes flying all over the veranda and front yard for an hour. The regular children’s names are Esther, Sarah, Jeremiah, Job, Joshua and Koloba. I love it – as we were playing, a boy probably 7 years old saw us as he walked passed the entrance. He just came and joined us. Who knows where he was headed, where his mother was, or where he came from. But he saw that we were having fun and felt free to join in. These kids are SO cute and independent.

After airplanes on the veranda, I washed my hair in the sun on the side yard. Then I soaked my feet and shaved my legs in a basin. Mmm, luxury in the equatorial sun! My feet have super tan lines in the form of my Chacos which are always on my feet. But I am beginning to wonder if they’re tan or if they’re dirty. Evidence supports the latter after my pedicure today!! I painted my toenails too. I never imagined I could get such a feeling of joy from this menial luxury! I will never take pretty feet for granted again.

It’s 3:00 pm now and I’m still reading Les Mis. I’m going to Bupoto again this evening… looks like I will be spending a significant amount of time there. The new clinic opened last week and has been running without any management or organization beyond the nurse and medical assistant. The opportunity and project is exciting, but Bupoto is extremely isolated and the worst road in Uganda is the only one available to get there. I guess I’ll see if I’m brave enough for this.