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.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Friday, May 09, 2008
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.
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 Uganda
First 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.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
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...
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...
Sunday, May 04, 2008
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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