I LOVE UGANDA! - I'm still on the honeymoon!

Arriving in Kampala…1/25/08

As I stepped off the airplane into the night Kampala sky, I sucked in a deep breath – Uganda air! I am here! A broad smiling man with a sign that read Arlington Academy of Hope greeted Mike and me at the door as we collected our baggage. When we loaded the car, a priceless moment of cultural shock occurred. Mike, assigned to sit in the front seat, went to the right side of the vehicle. Sam laughed a good laugh and said, “No, other side.” Sam proved to be a trusted driver, but ironically, anyone behind the wheel needs to maintain a high level of crazy driving to get somewhere safely.

So many things have happened since I arrived. I will tell you about a few of them and a few of the things I’ve observed while getting settled and getting started.

Driving into downtown Kampala was an eye-opener. That city is crazy! Shops and storefronts line all the highways and roads. Every building is painted with advertisements and messages. And the people, the people stand in front of these shops and sell everything. The concept of using the whole buffalo is taken to a whole new level here. A car exhaust system was turned into plumbing pieces and tools. Piles and piles of stuff were stacked up everywhere that waited to be turned into something. Traffic is completely chaotic and somehow organized. We shared the road with buses, boda bodas (motorcycles), matatus (taxis), pedestrians, huge trucks, and cows sporting enormous horns.

(Holy cow – As I’m typing, I heard a cow moo, and I’m pretty sure that cow is right outside my door.)

Sam and Nora have a beautiful family and home. Their three children are Nezi, Norsam, and Naten. Sam and Nora are very busy people – they do marriage counseling, rotary, work, church. Nora has her own executive coaching business and Sam is an accountant.

I am amazed at the way of life here. By my standards (and probably any standards), poverty reigns. But amongst the bustle of thousands of people selling and transporting things (even on their heads), store fronts crowded with goods, advertisements and signs everywhere, and dusty red dirt roads filled with cars and cars that have no emissions regulations, amongst all of that, there is an abundance of life paradoxical to the poverty. People are busy and people are happy.

Welcome to Bumwalukani!! 1/26/08

Imagine for a second the green greenest place you’ve ever seen in your life. Now take that to a greener level and you arrive right here in Bumwalukani, Uganda. The scenery is magical and the people are beautiful. Our drive to the village progressed to more and more rural surroundings. We drove through villages marked by shops and lounging people. Then we passed fields of sugar cane. After the fields, we began to see huts. We passed more sugar cane fields and rice patties. Then we crossed the Nile River, and turned off road that wrapped around the mountains. Finally, we went up and up the road that can barely be classified as a road to the guest house – home sweet home!

Highlights of my new home:

No mirror! I will not see my own face for three months! I didn’t expect this, but I love it! Do you know those people who are always checking themselves out when a mirror is near? That’s me. But I am putting this narcissistic habit aside during my stay here – this time, it’s all about the people I’m serving.

No running anything! No shower. No sink. No toilet. Girls camp has nothing against this life! I remember the first time I used an out house. It was at Wall Lake in South Dakota. The stench offended my senses and the darkness scared me. Well, I got over that here! Thank heavens for yoga – I can squat for an unusually long amount of time and am quite certain I can go three months without touching the seat. (haha! I can’t believe I’m talking about this so openly, but if you were locals, you would understand.)

The village bar is across the street from our home. Cynthia, our experienced traveler, said it’s only open a couple nights a week and closes around 9 pm. Maybe something had changed in the culture over the past year of her absence because the partying (music blaring, chanting in microphones, and chatter of voices) continued ALL night long. Not kidding – until dawn. And alarmingly, we heard four gunshots. At school today, we inquired about the party. Apparently, a village man died the night before we arrived. He was drunk and fell off a bridge. As part of the funeral ceremony, his family and friends partied continuously for two nights. Thank goodness we have no further fatalities, the bar is closed tonight, and Uganda peace fills my ears.

Let me tell you about the sounds here. Try to take away the hum of your computer and the buzzing of a radio or TV. Then lift the ventilation noise, and remove the traffic sounds. Take that another step to remove whatever other noise pollution you hear and you’re in Uganda. The quiet is wonderful! It’s not silent. I hear the constant chirp of bugs, the occasional crow of a rooster, the moo of cows and other animals, and the distant sound of voices. “How are yoooou???,” comes at me in excited child voices from every direction as I walk the path to, well, anywhere. They chant it and get very excited to have my attention. I say Melembe, which is hello to any passerby.

A comet of kids follows me where ever I go. They run around barefoot and in tattered clothing. The skin on their feet is calloused and thick. Their little legs are so so dirty and their clothes are unexplainably dirty and worn out and worn everyday. I chuckle when I see little cheeks exposed because of holes in their bottoms.

The Food: 1/26/08

Our first meal was at Koloba Steven’s house. He works as a cook at the school. After climbing what seemed like a mountain, we turned off the road to go up a trail that led us through a banana-tree-crowded mountainside neighborhood. The home is high on the hill – far from water and fire wood. The family greeted us with exuberant smiles. What happened next was the most incredible welcome I’ve ever experienced! The mother, Elizabeth, invited us and the children to pray. We bowed our heads respectfully and she said a few words in Lugisu. Then she said, “Let’s sing.” The entire family, mam, dad, and eight children aged three to 14 clapped their hands and sang the most beautiful song. The song had Hallelujah in it and a part where they sang to each of us individually. Then Elizabeth prayed again – a very long prayer. They brought a basin and clean water for us to wash our hands (good thing because I shook and gave high five to many dirty hands).

Then came the spread. They had rice, beans, matooke (mashed bananas), chapatti (flat fried bread), hard boiled eggs, and meat. Yes, I ate some of everything and I can’t tell you enough how delicious the food is here! It’s so natural and very well prepared. They cook with a lot of grease, but with no preservatives and certainly no hydrogenated fats.

After dinner, they brought us African tea (I did not partake) and ground nuts. G-nuts taste like peanuts, but they are smaller and yummier. When the meal was complete, they showed us their house, which was one room with divider walls. They also had a kitchen and store room.

Every meal since has been nearly as extensive and delicious. The time for preparation must be extensive. I would like to help make a meal, but I think I should hold off on that until close to when I go home. I might not want to know exactly what goes into the food that is going into me.

The Guest House:

Our home is right on the main road. It is a large building that consists of four bedrooms and a large main room in the center. Each room has a closet area and beds – that’s about it. Oh, I must not forget the veranda where the evenings can be enjoyed.

Security: 1/27/08

Many strange things happen in our living room. Today, a baby goat wandered in. Yesterday evening, a knock at our door brought in three official looking people. One was teacher Anne. Another was some local official who seemed to be one of their friends. The next was Matanga Sam. And Matanga Sam had a gun (probably an AK47, but I don’t know). They sat down like normal – yeah, that’s normal. But, he was introduced as our security guard who is on the property all night. OK, that’s alright. Honestly, I don’t feel like there is a need for an armed guard, but it is good for those at home to know I’m expressly protected. I have a sense that I need to be cautious, but the people are lovely and seemingly harmless. AAH has never had a problem during their 10 years here.

Fetching Water: 1/28/08

Near the school there is a protected water source. What that means is the water comes from a spring that is deep in the earth. A cement wall with a draining spout is built around it, and a fence encompasses a 10 foot radius from the source. Keeping animals and people away from the land above the source is important in preserving the cleanliness of the water. The quality of this source is high and can be determined by the fact that even when it rains, it runs clear. Other sources are less deep and water seeps in when it rains contaminating it. Contaminated water contains amoebas, cholera, worms and other water borne vectors that cause people diarrhea and worse problems. The people who get their water from this source lazily drink it straight from the tap. They rarely boil it because it is so clean. It doesn’t matter how good of reputation a source has, I want my water boiled!

I fetched the water today. I took, well actually David took, a 20 liter jerrycan (I’m sure I spelled that and many other things on my entire blog wrong!) down the hill to the source. When we got there, about a dozen kids were in line to fetch water. One little boy, who I saw numerous times throughout the day, didn’t have pants on and it didn’t seem to bother anybody (the kids I see who have no bottoms on are always 1-3 years old – I’ve yet to see anyone older baring all). We filled our can and started back up the hill. I took a try at carrying it and was largely unsuccessful. The water was sloshing everywhere, and I was tipping over! I will need to practice with less water before I take on that huge of a load again. 20 liters is nearly 42 lbs. Now, to emphasize my wimpiness, I hiked up the hill to school again this afternoon and saw three women carrying 20 liter jerrycans on their heads. They were full to the top and not a drop sloshed out. I’m amazed.


The Young Women’s Group: 1/28/08

Nine beautiful young women gather each week at the clinic to have a discussion group. Today’s topic was sex and sexuality. How appropriate for a former abstinence education professional. The group was lead by the PeaceCorp volunteer here, Karine, and Wilson, the village health worker. The girls were embarrassed by the topic, which primarily discussed feelings and behaviors in a platonic relationship verses feelings and behaviors in a boyfriend relationship. No dirty details discussed this time around. Next time, they will talk about family planning.

All I wanted was to take the girls in my arms and tell them how beautiful they are, how much they’re worth, and what they can become. I wanted to tell them how to say no and all the reasons why they should wait. The girls asked how to say no, but Karine deflected and said we’ll discuss refusal skills in a few weeks. Dhhhhaaaaa!! A few weeks?!?! They want to know NOW – can we please talk about it??

Wilson introduced me at the end. I did tell them they are beautiful, and I want to be their friend. They burst up in laughter when he translated my message. I was worried they were laughing at me, but when I asked Wilson, he said, “No, they hear it as praise. They are bashful.”

The final item of business was the tea. Pretty much the only reason the girls come is because of the African tea that is served. But today, nobody brought water so no tea was made. They organized what is referred to as a rotational fund. Each week, the girls have the option to contribute a few shillings to the pot. When they get enough, they buy a chicken or goat for one of the girls until all of them get one. So they’re really learning how to pool their resources. Next week, Lorna would bring the water because she lives the closest. But each of the girls must bring her a piece of firewood for her efforts. That sounds fair enough. Economy of things is different here. People don’t really own much and there aren’t banks. Tomorrow will take care of itself is the primary attitude. They chop firewood when they need it. They buy food at the market each day. They work odds and ends jobs rather than secure real work. It seems rather inefficient, yet, it’s a simple system and it works. Food doesn’t rot. There are plenty of kids to get wood. And enough work to keep everyone busy, even though a stroll through town would convey a lazy façade.

Going to the workshop: 1/28/08

In effort to improve the guesthouse, we sought out for shelves today. The workshop is down the street and we heard that shelves can be made for 40,000 shillings (about $30). Teacher Godfrey joined us – Muzungas will get ripped off, especially muzungas from AAH. This was quite the process. To get the correct measurements, the carpenter came to the guesthouse. It was decided that we needed four bookshelves that were 5’x5’x12”. Negotiating the price was challenging, but after a few minutes Ruth took out a piece of paper and wrote down our order. She signed it and so did the carpenter. Within the week, we should have four shelves for 160 shillings. Our shelves cost more because they will be varnished.

On our walk back to the school, we saw a little upheaval. A father had a boy in a grip and was beating him with a stick. They boy was wailing dramatically. It was quite obvious that he was in some sort of a fight with the other boys there. Soon the mamma came out and started yelling at the dad. I’ve never seen abusive behavior before except on TV. This kind of discipline doesn’t seem to be a frequent occurrence here, but seeing it leaves an impression.

Preparing the school 1/30/08:

I never quite know what my day is going to bring me here. But a few things are predictable. School starts next week creating a “to do” list that is full of prepping and cleaning classrooms. The P7 students from 2007 wrote scholarship essays and applications. We assisted them and checked their writing for grammar mistakes. Then we took on the strenuous project of moving the desks from the library, cleaning them in the yard, then placing them in the classrooms. Good thing we had students around. We had to tear them away from the movie that was playing in one of the classrooms – yay for power (they don’t often call it electricity)! By the finish of morning, we had everything in place.

Word from the wise 1/29/08:

Papa is Uncle John’s father. In other words, he is John Wanda’s father and very respected in the village and surrounding area. I passed him on the road to school and commented on how busy he is with his many roles and responsibilities. He said, “If I keep moving, I will not feel my aches.” Now that is wisdom.


Ox Fam Community Health Education and Skits 1/30/08:

I was invited yesterday to attend a health video at the Bumwalukani Primary School at 11:00 today. Anxious to see what kind of health video would be playing (praying for power, and wondering where in the world the primary school secure funds for a TV?), I left my duties at school and journeyed down to the school at the bottom of the hill. I arrived at 11:30 and nobody was there. Wilson, the organizer, was missing and only a few children stared at me as I approached the building. ‘How are you?’ came at me from every direction as usual. My presence in the middle of the village school yard was quite strange, I’m sure. So I hiked back up to Arlington.

At about 1:00, Wilson came to the school urgently looking for me. The program had started, and he wished me to be present. So I went. As we turned the corner into the school yard, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The ENTIRE village had gathered and were waiting for the program to begin. I was given a seat on a chair in the front of the crowd and introduced to a few of the health workers. Then everything began.

The video had nothing to do with TV. Ox Fam, a health outreach organization, came to the village with performers who sang songs and performed skits to teach about health topics. Today, we learned about keeping a clean house, safe water, and malaria. The native song and dance filled the crowd with energy and humor.

I started walking home after the performance. The children who followed me had a flat disk or slice of a tree trunk that they liked to roll along the ground to each other. I picked it up and threw it like a Frisbee. Wow did that excited the children. For 30 minutes I threw the Frisbee back and forth to about a dozen and a half children. I would say, “are you ready” and they would say, “I am ready.” I hope I can teach them how to play Ultimate sometime.

Our first chicken 1/30/08:

The people here take kindness, graciousness, and generosity to a whole new level. We Americans have a lot to learn from them about neighborly kindness, hospitality, and respect. We were invited for tea at Jimmy’s home. He is one of the S2 students who leaves for secondary school next week. They served us cold sodas to begin with – oh how lovely was the Fanta! Then we feasted on g-nuts and sweet bananas. Truly, their generosity at this point reached their capacity to give. But as we left their humble abode, we heard a chicken squawking behind the house. Then, Jimmy’s father came around the corner and said to his son, “Jimmy, honor your guests.” Jimmy placed the bird in Cynthia’s hands. It was a gift to all of us for coming to their home.

Although we can do nothing with a chicken, taking it is all we can do. Refusing is offensive. That hen probably provided the family with eggs for food and income, and could have been their only one. I feel humbled by their generosity. I feel humbled by this entire country. People have so little, yet they have something to give. Even though their concept of time is not the same as ours (believe me, 1:00 pm is nothing near 11:00 am), time is theirs to give. They stop to say hello. They stay for time. They never hurry. This attitude conveys a sense of caring kindness and concerned friendship.

I pray every day that I might love the people here. I absorb as much of what is happening around me as I can.

Life of the children:

Children are everywhere I look. They hang out in the trees, the fields, the stream, the mountains. They don’t have toys and don’t seem to be interested in organized games. They just hang out. Their tattered clothing is telling of their tough play. Kids of all ages congregate together. They chase cows. They sit on the hillside. They play with the animals. They work. They are so different from American children.

They don’t have toys. From a young age, they are given responsibilities. Yet, they seem so happy. They seem to have a sense of what they are to become – adults. They know they will grow big and when they do, they will need to have skills, jobs, families, and friends. But at the same time, they live carefree lives of children – singing and dancing and laughing and playing.