Women at the market 
Matooke anyone? 
Mbale town - it looks like a bombed out city, but it's actually pretty nice.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Everyone loves pictures
Women at the market Matooke anyone? 
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.
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.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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/.
Ruth is here for a year. She is awesome! Please check out her blog - she tells funny stories too. http://outofuganda.wordpress.com/.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
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!!
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!!
Saturday, March 01, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Visitors!
2/19/08
Today our visitors arrived. Joyce Wanda and 12 of her friends, including AAH board members and major donors are visiting the school and touring the country. They came for the clinic opening. The students put on an impressive assembly to greet them. Their smiling dancing faces bring such joy to my heart!
If any of you would like to visit, I would LOVE to have you!
It's 2 am and I'm going to bed now - gnight!
Today our visitors arrived. Joyce Wanda and 12 of her friends, including AAH board members and major donors are visiting the school and touring the country. They came for the clinic opening. The students put on an impressive assembly to greet them. Their smiling dancing faces bring such joy to my heart!
If any of you would like to visit, I would LOVE to have you!
It's 2 am and I'm going to bed now - gnight!
Bupoto Clinic opening
2/16/08
We packed 50 students into a 38 seat bus and hired a mutatu for the teachers and guest and headed to a village about 3 kilometers from Kenya called Bupoto. Joyce Wanda, a founder of AAH, grew up Bupoto and after losing 4 sisters to preventable/treatable diseases, AAH built a clinic there. The village is set on the slopes of Mt. Elgon, which is the 8th or 9th tallest/biggest peak in Africa. The rocky face reminds me of the Rockies, but the green green matooke that speckles its sides resembles Hawaiian volcanic peaks.
The day was full of festivities. The new clinic is the biggest thing that has likely ever happened in this village. Well, maybe the school that Idi Amin had built in memory of one of his colleagues who grew up there was nearly as big a deal to the town, but that was back in the 80s. The new clinic will hopefully offer care to thousands of people who reside miles and miles away from the nearest hospital or medical facility.
The day was full of festivities that began around 1 pm and finished around 5:30 and consisted primarily of a forever long ceremony. We were so pleased to have the entire village present as well as many district officials, chairmans, and important visitors from Kampala. In this culture, everyone official must have a chance to speak, and it seems to me that everyone is official in some way. Speeches typically begin with, “I will be brief in congratulating…” Then they turn into prolific 30 minute orations acknowledging everyone present and everyone who contributed. They then go on explaining one’s personal contribution to the celebrated cause. Simply said, ceremonies are a long ordeal. (Our P-7 graduation lasted 3.5 hours, not including the meal.) However, the dancing and music is amazing and I’m learning to endure.
P.S. As a special guest, I received another chicken. I’m up to 6 now!
We packed 50 students into a 38 seat bus and hired a mutatu for the teachers and guest and headed to a village about 3 kilometers from Kenya called Bupoto. Joyce Wanda, a founder of AAH, grew up Bupoto and after losing 4 sisters to preventable/treatable diseases, AAH built a clinic there. The village is set on the slopes of Mt. Elgon, which is the 8th or 9th tallest/biggest peak in Africa. The rocky face reminds me of the Rockies, but the green green matooke that speckles its sides resembles Hawaiian volcanic peaks.
The day was full of festivities. The new clinic is the biggest thing that has likely ever happened in this village. Well, maybe the school that Idi Amin had built in memory of one of his colleagues who grew up there was nearly as big a deal to the town, but that was back in the 80s. The new clinic will hopefully offer care to thousands of people who reside miles and miles away from the nearest hospital or medical facility.
The day was full of festivities that began around 1 pm and finished around 5:30 and consisted primarily of a forever long ceremony. We were so pleased to have the entire village present as well as many district officials, chairmans, and important visitors from Kampala. In this culture, everyone official must have a chance to speak, and it seems to me that everyone is official in some way. Speeches typically begin with, “I will be brief in congratulating…” Then they turn into prolific 30 minute orations acknowledging everyone present and everyone who contributed. They then go on explaining one’s personal contribution to the celebrated cause. Simply said, ceremonies are a long ordeal. (Our P-7 graduation lasted 3.5 hours, not including the meal.) However, the dancing and music is amazing and I’m learning to endure.
P.S. As a special guest, I received another chicken. I’m up to 6 now!
Bupoto Clinic opening
2/16/08
We packed 50 students into a 38 seat bus and hired a mutatu for the teachers and guest and headed to a village about 3 kilometers from Kenya called Bupoto. Joyce Wanda, a founder of AAH, grew up Bupoto and after losing 4 sisters to preventable/treatable diseases, AAH built a clinic there. The village is set on the slopes of Mt. Elgon, which is the 8th or 9th tallest/biggest peak in Africa. The rocky face reminds me of the Rockies, but the green green matooke that speckles its sides resembles Hawaiian volcanic peaks.
The day was full of festivities. The new clinic is the biggest thing that has likely ever happened in this village. Well, maybe the school that Idi Amin had built in memory of one of his colleagues who grew up there was nearly as big a deal to the town, but that was back in the 80s. The new clinic will hopefully offer care to thousands of people who reside miles and miles away from the nearest hospital or medical facility.
The day was full of festivities that began around 1 pm and finished around 5:30 and consisted primarily of a forever long ceremony. We were so pleased to have the entire village present as well as many district officials, chairmans, and important visitors from Kampala. In this culture, everyone official must have a chance to speak, and it seems to me that everyone is official in some way. Speeches typically begin with, “I will be brief in congratulating…” Then they turn into prolific 30 minute orations acknowledging everyone present and everyone who contributed. They then go on explaining one’s personal contribution to the celebrated cause. Simply said, ceremonies are a long ordeal. (Our P-7 graduation lasted 3.5 hours, not including the meal.) However, the dancing and music is amazing and I’m learning to endure.
P.S. As a special guest, I received another chicken. I’m up to 6 now!
We packed 50 students into a 38 seat bus and hired a mutatu for the teachers and guest and headed to a village about 3 kilometers from Kenya called Bupoto. Joyce Wanda, a founder of AAH, grew up Bupoto and after losing 4 sisters to preventable/treatable diseases, AAH built a clinic there. The village is set on the slopes of Mt. Elgon, which is the 8th or 9th tallest/biggest peak in Africa. The rocky face reminds me of the Rockies, but the green green matooke that speckles its sides resembles Hawaiian volcanic peaks.
The day was full of festivities. The new clinic is the biggest thing that has likely ever happened in this village. Well, maybe the school that Idi Amin had built in memory of one of his colleagues who grew up there was nearly as big a deal to the town, but that was back in the 80s. The new clinic will hopefully offer care to thousands of people who reside miles and miles away from the nearest hospital or medical facility.
The day was full of festivities that began around 1 pm and finished around 5:30 and consisted primarily of a forever long ceremony. We were so pleased to have the entire village present as well as many district officials, chairmans, and important visitors from Kampala. In this culture, everyone official must have a chance to speak, and it seems to me that everyone is official in some way. Speeches typically begin with, “I will be brief in congratulating…” Then they turn into prolific 30 minute orations acknowledging everyone present and everyone who contributed. They then go on explaining one’s personal contribution to the celebrated cause. Simply said, ceremonies are a long ordeal. (Our P-7 graduation lasted 3.5 hours, not including the meal.) However, the dancing and music is amazing and I’m learning to endure.
P.S. As a special guest, I received another chicken. I’m up to 6 now!
Cake and chickens
2/15/08
Today was David’s birthday. Birthdays aren’t that big of a deal in Uganda, which is such a travesty if you ask me. We celebrated with chicken for dinner (I have a few to spare these days) and cake. The cake came from Mbale and was most likely made a week ago. We bought it from a vendor who had it in the same case as watches and jewelry. It looked like the top of a wedding cake! The icing is rock hard – enough to keep it fresh for a long time. The cake tasted similar to a spice cake, but it just isn’t the same. I haven’t eaten a lot of sweets here, so the treat was actually a not so delightful addition to my diet. Too sweet for me – or maybe just too weird.
This evening, I checked out Robert’s idea for a chicken coup. His idea is good and I would love to help. He needs 80 hens to produce 60-70 good eggs a day which is enough to sell in Mbale. A hen runs between 3,000-4,500 shillings a piece depending on how large and mature it is. They generally take about 3 months to begin producing so it is difficult to pay back a loan from a microfinance group, which usually entails up to 50% interest and payments begin after a month. Any way, I think Robert thinks I’m going to pay for this endeavor. Negotiating here is interesting – it’s like a dance. My genuine interest is interpreted as genuine interest in funding the project. Uh oh! Before I knew it, Robert named the coup after me and mused about making a sign with my name on it. YIKES! Back to the dance, I’m learning that showing any interest is almost equivalent to showing that you want the item. I told Robert thank you so much for honoring me in that way but that I prefer that he does not tell people my name – that way the whole neighborhood will not approach me for micro financing. Needless to say, Robert and his family are so generous and delightful. His wife, Mary, makes the BEST stewed tomato sauce that is so good on chipatis.
Today was David’s birthday. Birthdays aren’t that big of a deal in Uganda, which is such a travesty if you ask me. We celebrated with chicken for dinner (I have a few to spare these days) and cake. The cake came from Mbale and was most likely made a week ago. We bought it from a vendor who had it in the same case as watches and jewelry. It looked like the top of a wedding cake! The icing is rock hard – enough to keep it fresh for a long time. The cake tasted similar to a spice cake, but it just isn’t the same. I haven’t eaten a lot of sweets here, so the treat was actually a not so delightful addition to my diet. Too sweet for me – or maybe just too weird.
This evening, I checked out Robert’s idea for a chicken coup. His idea is good and I would love to help. He needs 80 hens to produce 60-70 good eggs a day which is enough to sell in Mbale. A hen runs between 3,000-4,500 shillings a piece depending on how large and mature it is. They generally take about 3 months to begin producing so it is difficult to pay back a loan from a microfinance group, which usually entails up to 50% interest and payments begin after a month. Any way, I think Robert thinks I’m going to pay for this endeavor. Negotiating here is interesting – it’s like a dance. My genuine interest is interpreted as genuine interest in funding the project. Uh oh! Before I knew it, Robert named the coup after me and mused about making a sign with my name on it. YIKES! Back to the dance, I’m learning that showing any interest is almost equivalent to showing that you want the item. I told Robert thank you so much for honoring me in that way but that I prefer that he does not tell people my name – that way the whole neighborhood will not approach me for micro financing. Needless to say, Robert and his family are so generous and delightful. His wife, Mary, makes the BEST stewed tomato sauce that is so good on chipatis.
Prosperous Day
Today was an “I love my life” day! This world is absolutely amazing to me! The day began as a fairly regular day. I went to school and did my reading period. The P1 class and I drew rainbows while we read, “A Rainbow for Dinner.”
At lunch, Koloba Steven’s wife, Beth, delivered potatoes and chapatti for us Mzungus. It was a welcome treat after weeks, and many weeks to come, of posho, beans, and cabbage for lunch.
I read to P4 and P7 today as well. The students must think I’m crazy because I use a lot of silly animation while reading. They seem to like it and are very engaged in the stories. We discussed new vocabulary words, morals or lessons learned, and what a prologue is. I am excited to continue reading aloud to the students. I believe they will benefit greatly from hearing English and learning to love books.
In the afternoon, I joined the choir in preparing for their performance this weekend at the Bupoto Clinic opening. Teacher Nelson had them out in the field practicing a traditional dance to the beating drums. I joined in! The students LOVE it when we participate. Part of the dance was milking a cow. As you can imagine, I have no idea how to milk a cow!
After school we started our clubs. I am in charge of the writing club. This is exciting and hopefully we’ll be able to write a school newsletter. The concept of clubs is new to the students so pretty much the entire school wants to join the club. We’ll see how it turns out…
After clubs, at about 5:00 pm, Nandala Caroline invited me to her home. She said, “Teacher Charlee, you are visiting today, yes?” I thought, why not and asked, “How far do you live?” She replied, “I live near far.”
Now, let me tell you for a second about near and far. Distance seems irrelevant to these people. They walk miles and miles, or should I say kilometers and kilometers, to get places. And their walk is not just on the sidewalk. Only a few roads, which are dusty or muddy depending on the season, exist. Alternatively, paths that are like hiking trails sprawl up the mountains and around the valleys like a web. The people know the way around these paths without any signs to mark them. To me, near means around the corner, which I realize is another relative term. But here, near means around the MOUNTAIN! Far is up and around the mountain and over the hills into a valley past the last two mountains and valleys.
So I went to Caroline’s house. We climbed and climbed and climbed and when we arrived at an opening in the path, she said, “We are near,” and pointed to a home across the valley another half mile away. We arrived at 6:15. I LOVE hiking around through the trails here. The reason I love going on the trails is because I get to see the life here. The trails cross right onto people’s porches and everyone is out. I see mostly women who are working preparing meals and men who are carrying things on their heads. Children are EVERYWHERE! Seriously, everywhere. I can’t even tell you how wonderful and beautiful it is to see these children all over the place.
I quickly learned that Mzungus are “most welcome.” Anywhere I go people are super excited to see me. They thank me so much for coming to their village and everyone invites me to their home. When I greet them in Lagisu, the local language, they brighten up. This behavior is especially true amongst the adults and more particularly by elderly women. Everyone is grateful for my work and for coming to Uganda. I feel quite humbled by it. I wish the entire world could be so kind and welcoming to strangers and neighbors alike.
So we finally made it to Caroline’s place after I thought I was going to die hiking up the mountain. Thank goodness I had four guides from school to show me the way. I’m proud to say I kept up with them. When we arrived, all the neighbors came to see me and Caroline’s mother welcomed me. “You are most welcome,” is their formal greeting.
I sat in their living room for a few minutes and chatted with Caroline’s mother who spoke beautiful English. Then, after speaking in Lugisu with her children she turned to me and said, “Caroline told me you would like to milk a cow.”
Huh??!?!? Are you serious??? I didn’t tell her that, but maybe she got that while we were dancing.
So the next thing I know, I have udders in my hands! Hahahahahahahahaha! I milked a cow!!
The entire family was there to enjoy the moment. One of the babies was only a week old! He was SO precious, but it was kind of weird when his mother pulled out her breast in the middle of a conversation with me and began to feed him. Yeah, that’s normal!!!
The people are obsessed with cameras. The nicest thing I can do for a family is take their picture, well besides give them money I suppose. I let one of them take my picture as I milked the cow and it was the most exciting thing she’s probably ever done. After that, we took probably 50 more pictures of everything from the goat to the neighbor boys.
The sun sets around 7 pm here so I could not stay long. As I left, they gave me a hen. What in the world am I going to do with it, I don’t know! But I took it graciously.
We continued on to Obotsi Justine’s home. I spoke with her mother and her uncle told me all about the banana plantation and English tomatoes they planted. I learned about yakayam and they gave me a piece. It is a potato-like root that is sweet. The stay there was much less exciting for me and far more brief, but I received another chicken!
After that we went to Kaloba Kevin and Christine’s place. By then, it was getting dark so I literally sat down for two minutes then we left. But of course, I received two more chickens – one from each student.
We ran down the mountain, literally ran. The mountain is called Bumayako and the village I went to is called Nitatsayas. I prayed every step of the way that I would not break an ankle or any bone for that matter. As the path flattened, one of the girls turned to me and said, “You do not walk like other Mzungus.” She went on to explain that I like to walk fast, stay near the front, and keep up with the locals. I took that as a compliment!
I returned home with 3 hens and my very own cock. Hahaha! I love it. I milked a cow and got my own chickens today! Seriously, this life is incredible!
At lunch, Koloba Steven’s wife, Beth, delivered potatoes and chapatti for us Mzungus. It was a welcome treat after weeks, and many weeks to come, of posho, beans, and cabbage for lunch.
I read to P4 and P7 today as well. The students must think I’m crazy because I use a lot of silly animation while reading. They seem to like it and are very engaged in the stories. We discussed new vocabulary words, morals or lessons learned, and what a prologue is. I am excited to continue reading aloud to the students. I believe they will benefit greatly from hearing English and learning to love books.
In the afternoon, I joined the choir in preparing for their performance this weekend at the Bupoto Clinic opening. Teacher Nelson had them out in the field practicing a traditional dance to the beating drums. I joined in! The students LOVE it when we participate. Part of the dance was milking a cow. As you can imagine, I have no idea how to milk a cow!
After school we started our clubs. I am in charge of the writing club. This is exciting and hopefully we’ll be able to write a school newsletter. The concept of clubs is new to the students so pretty much the entire school wants to join the club. We’ll see how it turns out…
After clubs, at about 5:00 pm, Nandala Caroline invited me to her home. She said, “Teacher Charlee, you are visiting today, yes?” I thought, why not and asked, “How far do you live?” She replied, “I live near far.”
Now, let me tell you for a second about near and far. Distance seems irrelevant to these people. They walk miles and miles, or should I say kilometers and kilometers, to get places. And their walk is not just on the sidewalk. Only a few roads, which are dusty or muddy depending on the season, exist. Alternatively, paths that are like hiking trails sprawl up the mountains and around the valleys like a web. The people know the way around these paths without any signs to mark them. To me, near means around the corner, which I realize is another relative term. But here, near means around the MOUNTAIN! Far is up and around the mountain and over the hills into a valley past the last two mountains and valleys.
So I went to Caroline’s house. We climbed and climbed and climbed and when we arrived at an opening in the path, she said, “We are near,” and pointed to a home across the valley another half mile away. We arrived at 6:15. I LOVE hiking around through the trails here. The reason I love going on the trails is because I get to see the life here. The trails cross right onto people’s porches and everyone is out. I see mostly women who are working preparing meals and men who are carrying things on their heads. Children are EVERYWHERE! Seriously, everywhere. I can’t even tell you how wonderful and beautiful it is to see these children all over the place.
I quickly learned that Mzungus are “most welcome.” Anywhere I go people are super excited to see me. They thank me so much for coming to their village and everyone invites me to their home. When I greet them in Lagisu, the local language, they brighten up. This behavior is especially true amongst the adults and more particularly by elderly women. Everyone is grateful for my work and for coming to Uganda. I feel quite humbled by it. I wish the entire world could be so kind and welcoming to strangers and neighbors alike.
So we finally made it to Caroline’s place after I thought I was going to die hiking up the mountain. Thank goodness I had four guides from school to show me the way. I’m proud to say I kept up with them. When we arrived, all the neighbors came to see me and Caroline’s mother welcomed me. “You are most welcome,” is their formal greeting.
I sat in their living room for a few minutes and chatted with Caroline’s mother who spoke beautiful English. Then, after speaking in Lugisu with her children she turned to me and said, “Caroline told me you would like to milk a cow.”
Huh??!?!? Are you serious??? I didn’t tell her that, but maybe she got that while we were dancing.
So the next thing I know, I have udders in my hands! Hahahahahahahahaha! I milked a cow!!
The entire family was there to enjoy the moment. One of the babies was only a week old! He was SO precious, but it was kind of weird when his mother pulled out her breast in the middle of a conversation with me and began to feed him. Yeah, that’s normal!!!
The people are obsessed with cameras. The nicest thing I can do for a family is take their picture, well besides give them money I suppose. I let one of them take my picture as I milked the cow and it was the most exciting thing she’s probably ever done. After that, we took probably 50 more pictures of everything from the goat to the neighbor boys.
The sun sets around 7 pm here so I could not stay long. As I left, they gave me a hen. What in the world am I going to do with it, I don’t know! But I took it graciously.
We continued on to Obotsi Justine’s home. I spoke with her mother and her uncle told me all about the banana plantation and English tomatoes they planted. I learned about yakayam and they gave me a piece. It is a potato-like root that is sweet. The stay there was much less exciting for me and far more brief, but I received another chicken!
After that we went to Kaloba Kevin and Christine’s place. By then, it was getting dark so I literally sat down for two minutes then we left. But of course, I received two more chickens – one from each student.
We ran down the mountain, literally ran. The mountain is called Bumayako and the village I went to is called Nitatsayas. I prayed every step of the way that I would not break an ankle or any bone for that matter. As the path flattened, one of the girls turned to me and said, “You do not walk like other Mzungus.” She went on to explain that I like to walk fast, stay near the front, and keep up with the locals. I took that as a compliment!
I returned home with 3 hens and my very own cock. Hahaha! I love it. I milked a cow and got my own chickens today! Seriously, this life is incredible!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Isn't She Beautiful?
I tried to post more photos but this was the only one I could get to work. The internet is a bit shoddy here. This girl is about 10 years old. She is so beautiful that I had to get a picture. I will try and post more later.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Animal Thoughts…
2/3/08
Today was the hottest day yet… thank goodness it was Sunday and I largely spent it in the guest house. I’m mastering the art of doing nothing. It’s not that I don’t have stuff to do, it’s more that today, the Sabbath, is a day when I set everything aside and do nothing. I woke up before sunrise feeling rested. The first cock crowed around 5:50 am. Perhaps such sounds seem natural or organic to wake up to, but really, it’s obnoxious. Once they start, hundreds more will be heard throughout the morning from all over the valley. Yesterday morning I found my brain repeating ‘shut the cock up’ over and over again like a mantra. I wanted to ring the neck of the next one I saw!
Animals are simply part of the earth here – part of life. Some of my fellow volunteers have a real proclivity toward them and think they’re really cute. Not me. In fact, I am averse to them. A baby goat came in the living room. My friends all thought the goat was so wonderful, but I begged to differ. He’s cuter outside.
Being here makes me less of an animal rights supporter than I was before. Not that I was concerned terribly much about the issue before, but now I know I’m not. I mean, animals are great and cute, but the people here treat them and use them for their livelihood. Any regulations on how to coral a cow or properly care for a chicken would be taking away a person’s livelihood. I know livestock and Old Mcdonald’s assortment are utilized and processed differently in the US – Farm animals are for industry and feeding millions rather than a family. But I don’t believe the quality of life for an animal is very important. By all means I don’t condone animal abuse or cruelty, but I guess I feel there are more important issues to be concerned about, perhaps more human related like poverty. Speaking of which, I realized yesterday that wrapping my brain around the living conditions and poverty of this area is going to take a long time – I’m glad I have time to think.
Today was the hottest day yet… thank goodness it was Sunday and I largely spent it in the guest house. I’m mastering the art of doing nothing. It’s not that I don’t have stuff to do, it’s more that today, the Sabbath, is a day when I set everything aside and do nothing. I woke up before sunrise feeling rested. The first cock crowed around 5:50 am. Perhaps such sounds seem natural or organic to wake up to, but really, it’s obnoxious. Once they start, hundreds more will be heard throughout the morning from all over the valley. Yesterday morning I found my brain repeating ‘shut the cock up’ over and over again like a mantra. I wanted to ring the neck of the next one I saw!
Animals are simply part of the earth here – part of life. Some of my fellow volunteers have a real proclivity toward them and think they’re really cute. Not me. In fact, I am averse to them. A baby goat came in the living room. My friends all thought the goat was so wonderful, but I begged to differ. He’s cuter outside.
Being here makes me less of an animal rights supporter than I was before. Not that I was concerned terribly much about the issue before, but now I know I’m not. I mean, animals are great and cute, but the people here treat them and use them for their livelihood. Any regulations on how to coral a cow or properly care for a chicken would be taking away a person’s livelihood. I know livestock and Old Mcdonald’s assortment are utilized and processed differently in the US – Farm animals are for industry and feeding millions rather than a family. But I don’t believe the quality of life for an animal is very important. By all means I don’t condone animal abuse or cruelty, but I guess I feel there are more important issues to be concerned about, perhaps more human related like poverty. Speaking of which, I realized yesterday that wrapping my brain around the living conditions and poverty of this area is going to take a long time – I’m glad I have time to think.
I LOVE Service!
2/8/08
We did the coolest service project yesterday! A few of the FIMRC volunteers brought suitcases of clothes to give away. We took them to homes of orphans. Here, a child is considered an orphan if one or both parents have dies. The terrain is extremely mountainous and the hills are steep. The first house we went to was at the very top of a mountain in a village called Mwaraha (I’m sure I didn’t spell that right, but it’s pronounced ma-ra-ha with a rolled r. It sounds Spanish). The clay hut-like home had 2 wooden chairs in it, a cow in the back, and a gravestone in the yard. The hike up was intense. I find that I LOVE hiking. I love the feeling when my heart is beating so fast that it could pop out of my chest. I love traversing the terrain and getting to the top. I can go and go, and for a mazungu (white person) I can go fast, which means I keep up. Anyway, one lady started dancing and praising when we came to her home. You should see the children here. They’re beautiful. They are like Peter Pan’s lost boys (this place would be awesome for playing Peter Pan if you were 10 again). At one home, we waited in the front for the mother to arrive. The neighbors started gathering around us. After our greetings, they stared at us and we stared at them – a typical exchange for strangers who are equally fascinated with each other, but have no way to communicate. Suddenly, a little boy came bouncing around the corner naked as a J-bird. Haha! He shook our hands and the neighbors laughed. It was hilarious, but at the same time, completely ok. He just decided not to wear clothes that day. Not a big deal!
I live in the bush. It’s amazing really. I have to sieve my water even when I wash my face (it comes from a huge tank that collects rain water – should be fairly clean, but I’ve found worms in it). I do my business in an outhouse. People cook in clay pits in the ground of their “kitchen,” which is usually a 10x10 room detached from the house. I squat to shower with a pitcher and basin. I kill roaches and spiders. A goat wandered into my living room. I could go on and on. Today, I removed animal poo from the path to the latrine without even wincing.
Ironically, all the people here have cell phones. Minutes are added to the phone by purchasing a card with a scratch on it like a lottery card. Under the scratch is a number that gives credit when entered into the phone. Without a banking infrastructure in this area, billing for monthly usage would be impossible. There aren’t many banks because most of the people do subsistence farming and would never really need one. In my opinion, telecom and communications services in Africa are the most important and influential changes being made in Africa. There is no way people could have a land line. Bringing faster communication and more information via the internet will revolutionize this continent.
Ugandans are incredibly happy. They have the attitude that tomorrow will take care of itself. I think the US could use a dose or two of that.
I wish I could tell you about every second of my days here. I am learning so much.
School starts tomorrow so I better get to bed.
We did the coolest service project yesterday! A few of the FIMRC volunteers brought suitcases of clothes to give away. We took them to homes of orphans. Here, a child is considered an orphan if one or both parents have dies. The terrain is extremely mountainous and the hills are steep. The first house we went to was at the very top of a mountain in a village called Mwaraha (I’m sure I didn’t spell that right, but it’s pronounced ma-ra-ha with a rolled r. It sounds Spanish). The clay hut-like home had 2 wooden chairs in it, a cow in the back, and a gravestone in the yard. The hike up was intense. I find that I LOVE hiking. I love the feeling when my heart is beating so fast that it could pop out of my chest. I love traversing the terrain and getting to the top. I can go and go, and for a mazungu (white person) I can go fast, which means I keep up. Anyway, one lady started dancing and praising when we came to her home. You should see the children here. They’re beautiful. They are like Peter Pan’s lost boys (this place would be awesome for playing Peter Pan if you were 10 again). At one home, we waited in the front for the mother to arrive. The neighbors started gathering around us. After our greetings, they stared at us and we stared at them – a typical exchange for strangers who are equally fascinated with each other, but have no way to communicate. Suddenly, a little boy came bouncing around the corner naked as a J-bird. Haha! He shook our hands and the neighbors laughed. It was hilarious, but at the same time, completely ok. He just decided not to wear clothes that day. Not a big deal!
I live in the bush. It’s amazing really. I have to sieve my water even when I wash my face (it comes from a huge tank that collects rain water – should be fairly clean, but I’ve found worms in it). I do my business in an outhouse. People cook in clay pits in the ground of their “kitchen,” which is usually a 10x10 room detached from the house. I squat to shower with a pitcher and basin. I kill roaches and spiders. A goat wandered into my living room. I could go on and on. Today, I removed animal poo from the path to the latrine without even wincing.
Ironically, all the people here have cell phones. Minutes are added to the phone by purchasing a card with a scratch on it like a lottery card. Under the scratch is a number that gives credit when entered into the phone. Without a banking infrastructure in this area, billing for monthly usage would be impossible. There aren’t many banks because most of the people do subsistence farming and would never really need one. In my opinion, telecom and communications services in Africa are the most important and influential changes being made in Africa. There is no way people could have a land line. Bringing faster communication and more information via the internet will revolutionize this continent.
Ugandans are incredibly happy. They have the attitude that tomorrow will take care of itself. I think the US could use a dose or two of that.
I wish I could tell you about every second of my days here. I am learning so much.
School starts tomorrow so I better get to bed.
I Got Sick. YUCK! WTMI (Way too much information).
Warning, this may disgust you, so proceed with caution! 1/31/08
David, a former Peace Corp volunteer and FIMRC onsite manager here in Bumwalukani, said, “In places like this, talking about bowel movements is not unusual. It’s perfectly normal amongst Peace Corp members to say, ‘Hi, I’m David. I have not [crapped] in six days.”
And so… I’m on day six in Uganda. So far so good – until now. I experienced my first bout of explosive diarrhea this morning. Thinking it was all clear (I couldn’t possibly have anything more in me) I set out for a day at the market and tour of the Budodo Hospital.
Bad idea. We loaded onto a nearly full matato (taxi). As we headed to the market, about eight more people got on board. I counted 18 people – imagine that many folks in a volkswagon van. We reached the market and many people unloaded, but we were headed for the hospital in the next town. The market was crowded and the driver took time to unload and load (a goat – yes, a goat, was loaded under the seat I sat on).
Suddenly, my stomach churned. After a minute or two more of loading and unloading, I thought to myself, if this bus doesn’t start moving, something else is going to move and it’s not going to be pleasant. Not convinced I could make it to Budodo, I turned to David and asked how difficult it would be to find latrine. We got off and set out to find it. Directed to go toward the school, the latrine was locked when we reached. To my relief, a young girl fetched the key. Phew, I barely made it! David kindly fetched TP for me, which served its purpose much better than the loose notebook paper that was in the latrine.
The last story I’ll share is hilarious. Then I’ll stop disgusting you with a discussion on my bowel problems. After the school house rock, I made it through the market, and through a tour of Bududo Hospital – very scary third world medical conditions, but they had running toilets. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant in Bududa. Hesitant to eat, I ordered a Coke. About 1/3 into my drink and oh no, not again!!! I looked at David, who later commented on the horror/urgency he saw in my face, and asked if I would be able to find a latrine here. Forget waiting for his reply. I stood up, demanded Nikki to give me the TP, but didn’t even wait for that. I rushed into the kitchen and declared, “Latrine! Toilet!” All I got were stares. I went on, “Bathroom! Restroom! Toilet!” Oh, please have a toilet. Then a girl got up. I’m quite certain she got the message because she started out fast. Out of fear that I would have an accident, I held my skirt out in front and in back. We wound our way through the kitchen, around the back lot, through and alley, and then she said, “Wait here.” WAIT?!?!? Are you kidding me?? But she was back in seconds with a key to unlock the latrine. Relief! And just in time. And sweet Nikki appeared just in time to hold the door and give me the TP.
I was mortified when I returned to my friends, but I felt better. Nikki told me stories about embarrassing moments she has had to help me feel better. We took boda bodas home – I sat behind David on the motorcycle. He made sure to remind me that it was in his best interest that I tell him if we need to stop on the side of the road! I made it home safe and sound. Needless to say, I stayed low for the rest of the day.
Thank heavens for Levaquin. I felt relieved of my illness in about 48 hours.
Hey now, I am in Africa! OK, I realize that is much much more than I ever should have shared with you and all the strangers out there on the internet.
David, a former Peace Corp volunteer and FIMRC onsite manager here in Bumwalukani, said, “In places like this, talking about bowel movements is not unusual. It’s perfectly normal amongst Peace Corp members to say, ‘Hi, I’m David. I have not [crapped] in six days.”
And so… I’m on day six in Uganda. So far so good – until now. I experienced my first bout of explosive diarrhea this morning. Thinking it was all clear (I couldn’t possibly have anything more in me) I set out for a day at the market and tour of the Budodo Hospital.
Bad idea. We loaded onto a nearly full matato (taxi). As we headed to the market, about eight more people got on board. I counted 18 people – imagine that many folks in a volkswagon van. We reached the market and many people unloaded, but we were headed for the hospital in the next town. The market was crowded and the driver took time to unload and load (a goat – yes, a goat, was loaded under the seat I sat on).
Suddenly, my stomach churned. After a minute or two more of loading and unloading, I thought to myself, if this bus doesn’t start moving, something else is going to move and it’s not going to be pleasant. Not convinced I could make it to Budodo, I turned to David and asked how difficult it would be to find latrine. We got off and set out to find it. Directed to go toward the school, the latrine was locked when we reached. To my relief, a young girl fetched the key. Phew, I barely made it! David kindly fetched TP for me, which served its purpose much better than the loose notebook paper that was in the latrine.
The last story I’ll share is hilarious. Then I’ll stop disgusting you with a discussion on my bowel problems. After the school house rock, I made it through the market, and through a tour of Bududo Hospital – very scary third world medical conditions, but they had running toilets. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant in Bududa. Hesitant to eat, I ordered a Coke. About 1/3 into my drink and oh no, not again!!! I looked at David, who later commented on the horror/urgency he saw in my face, and asked if I would be able to find a latrine here. Forget waiting for his reply. I stood up, demanded Nikki to give me the TP, but didn’t even wait for that. I rushed into the kitchen and declared, “Latrine! Toilet!” All I got were stares. I went on, “Bathroom! Restroom! Toilet!” Oh, please have a toilet. Then a girl got up. I’m quite certain she got the message because she started out fast. Out of fear that I would have an accident, I held my skirt out in front and in back. We wound our way through the kitchen, around the back lot, through and alley, and then she said, “Wait here.” WAIT?!?!? Are you kidding me?? But she was back in seconds with a key to unlock the latrine. Relief! And just in time. And sweet Nikki appeared just in time to hold the door and give me the TP.
I was mortified when I returned to my friends, but I felt better. Nikki told me stories about embarrassing moments she has had to help me feel better. We took boda bodas home – I sat behind David on the motorcycle. He made sure to remind me that it was in his best interest that I tell him if we need to stop on the side of the road! I made it home safe and sound. Needless to say, I stayed low for the rest of the day.
Thank heavens for Levaquin. I felt relieved of my illness in about 48 hours.
Hey now, I am in Africa! OK, I realize that is much much more than I ever should have shared with you and all the strangers out there on the internet.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, January 28, 2008
SHE MADE IT!
This is Charlee's sister posting in behalf of Charlee to let you all know she made it to Uganda! She is safe, and absolutely loving it. She says the food is wonderful, and the scenery is breath taking. The people are grateful and so kind. I don't quite know how many details to give away because I want to give her the opportunity to describe it herself. Just know that she is doing great. She asked me to post the phone numbers to reach her. Give her a call to hear all about it for yourself!
011-256-773-326-822 or 011-256-774-270-209
The best time to get a hold of her is in the evening. She is 8 hours ahead of DC time so keep that in mind.
011-256-773-326-822 or 011-256-774-270-209
The best time to get a hold of her is in the evening. She is 8 hours ahead of DC time so keep that in mind.
Friday, January 25, 2008
layover
Amsterdam – Something about boarding a plane that is crossing an ocean is more nerve-racking than jumping from state to state. I’m not sure why because I imagine that a water landing would be much softer than a ground landing, but that’s just it – the ground offers a solid landing. Hmm. Well, I made it. Here I am in Amsterdam for 3 hours before I head out to Entebbe airport. When I get there, at 8:50 pm, John Wanda’s brother who lives in Kampala will have a sign with my name on it. My travel companion is Mike. In our haste to get to the next gate, don’t ask me why we would possibly be in a hurry while on a 3 hour layover, we went through the wrong customs station. I turned around to walk back and suddenly the police whistled at me. I guess that was a no-no. Well, my passport is stamped for Amsterdam.
We just bought adapters and batteries at the Duty Free store. The man at the check out noticed that I have a Dutch last name. I’m very Scandinavian – I guess I’m in (or near) the motherland. Surprisingly, I hear American accents everywhere. I commented to Mike that I love European culture as I saw a few men dressed in their soccer jerseys and a couple women totally hipstered out. But I think I would see those things in the Dulles airport in DC and the only reason they stand out now is because I’m in Europe. Hmmm…
Well, so far so good. I can’t wait to be done carrying this load, but I’m afraid that burden won’t be gone for a few more days.
I’m off!
We just bought adapters and batteries at the Duty Free store. The man at the check out noticed that I have a Dutch last name. I’m very Scandinavian – I guess I’m in (or near) the motherland. Surprisingly, I hear American accents everywhere. I commented to Mike that I love European culture as I saw a few men dressed in their soccer jerseys and a couple women totally hipstered out. But I think I would see those things in the Dulles airport in DC and the only reason they stand out now is because I’m in Europe. Hmmm…
Well, so far so good. I can’t wait to be done carrying this load, but I’m afraid that burden won’t be gone for a few more days.
I’m off!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Up, Up, and Away!
It's here! At 6 pm today, I board a plane and surrender to the unknown! Days like this encompass a myriad of emotions, primarily excitement and stress. Going to Uganda on humanitarian service is something that I'm making happen, it's not just happening to me. Accomplishing something of this magnitude is incredibly rewarding, and it never could happen without all the people who love and support me.
Please email me - it might take a day or two to return a note, but I will have access to the internet occasionally.
If anyone needs to reach me, please call 011-256-774-270-209 . That's a cell phone number that is available for my use. But make sure to keep in mind that they are 8 hours ahead of EST so please don't call too late (best time to call is mid-morning here).
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! to all everyone of you! I've had so many supportive and very generous people influence this decision. Because of your giving to me, in any kind of way, I am able to give to the people of Uganda.
Please check my blog often. I'll try to update it as much as possible.
Love you all!
Charlee
Please email me - it might take a day or two to return a note, but I will have access to the internet occasionally.
If anyone needs to reach me, please call 011-256-774-270-209 . That's a cell phone number that is available for my use. But make sure to keep in mind that they are 8 hours ahead of EST so please don't call too late (best time to call is mid-morning here).
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! to all everyone of you! I've had so many supportive and very generous people influence this decision. Because of your giving to me, in any kind of way, I am able to give to the people of Uganda.
Please check my blog often. I'll try to update it as much as possible.
Love you all!
Charlee
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Monday, October 22, 2007
Mulumbe!
I'm going to Africa! Yes, you heard me right, but given the potentially high shocker value, let me say it again...
I'm going to AFRICA! And I'm bursting with excitement for it!
First, let me tell you about where I'm going and what I'm doing there. Bumwalukani is a small mountainous village in Uganda where Arlington Academy of Hope was founded, and where I will fulfill my dreams, live amongst banana trees, and help paint a brighter future for children. My primary responsibilities will be teaching in a primary school and assisting in a health clinic. As many of you may know, I'm passionate about health and education, curious about cultures, and I love people and service. This is an amazing opportunity for me to combine all of that in one experience.
Check this out...
So where am I in the process? Honestly, this isn't coming out of nowhere - I decided to do this last spring and I plan to go for the next term, February through April, 2008. (Yes, that's three months and I'm certain I'll be OK.) I've researched the organization, volunteered with them here in the States, met with people who've gone before, and pondered and prayed about it. My friend Hollie shares her experience at Life and Times in Uganda. Also, I spend ample time learning about Uganda, its people, and the current issues in the surrounding area (Save Darfur!).
Let's talk $$$. So far, I've raised over $2500 for program fees and everything provided for me by AAH. Now I need about $1500 more for a plane ticket, vaccinations, and other expenses I'll encounter. Please feel free to contact me if you can help or if you have ideas on how I can find fundraise.
I look forward to learning about and experiencing a new and unique culture first hand. My hope is to improve lives (especially my own) a little at a time and this is an incredible way to do it. As I have much to contribute and share with these beautiful people, I feel that what I receive in return will be a thousand fold.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Where is September?
Is it just me or does September seem lost to you? October is here and I have no clue what happened to September. I continued through the month as if it was still summer, and low and behold, August consumed September and October snuck up like a ghost.
September, from the Très riches heures du duc de Berry
September, from the Très riches heures du duc de Berry
Friday, September 28, 2007
My Passion for the Arts
I found two artists today whose stuff I really like. Lately, I've been interested in contemporary works of up and coming artists. I find their interpretation of modern times fascinating and provocative. It's refreshing to have visual conversation about about events and issues of our day. Sometimes I agree with what's shown or the artist's intent, sometimes I don't. One rule of thumb I go by is to not decide if I like or dislike an artist or series of works until I've seen at least 3 pieces. I suppose that rule works for other things too, like dating... haha!
Enjoy...
1) Maira Kalman - She's an illustrator/columnist/poet. She's clever, somewhat whimsical and ironically realistic.
This image and more can be found here.
2) Jos De Mey - He has a remarkable way of depicting the impossible. Honestly, Surrealism freaks me out. Much of it is marked by bizarre juxtapositions of imagination and is influenced by Freud's theories of madness and darkness of the mind. Think Dada and Salvador Dali.
De Mey's art resembles Surrealism; however, he focuses more on what he calls "constructive illusionism" and impossible structures. Basically, he takes the best part of surrealism, which is the juxtaposition and imagination, and tones it down a notch by using geometrics. In my opinion, this gives off a more realistic essence, as opposed to melting objects in space. You have to look twice. It's really cool.
You can find out more about him by clicking here.
Enjoy...
1) Maira Kalman - She's an illustrator/columnist/poet. She's clever, somewhat whimsical and ironically realistic.
This image and more can be found here.
2) Jos De Mey - He has a remarkable way of depicting the impossible. Honestly, Surrealism freaks me out. Much of it is marked by bizarre juxtapositions of imagination and is influenced by Freud's theories of madness and darkness of the mind. Think Dada and Salvador Dali.
De Mey's art resembles Surrealism; however, he focuses more on what he calls "constructive illusionism" and impossible structures. Basically, he takes the best part of surrealism, which is the juxtaposition and imagination, and tones it down a notch by using geometrics. In my opinion, this gives off a more realistic essence, as opposed to melting objects in space. You have to look twice. It's really cool.
You can find out more about him by clicking here.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
He Fell Out of an Airplane?!?!
I think the best part of my job is hearing about peoples lives. In fact, I'm obsessed with the elderly population that we serve because these people are SO cool!
Today, I spoke with a man who fell out of an airplane. No joke! He fought in a war and took a jump out of a plane. His parachute didn't open, but fortunately he came away alive.
Yesterday, I spoke with the 100 year old man's son who told me that the old man is still a practicing attorney. Seriously, he's still taking cases! He also mentioned that he can hold a pretty mean debate about the war in Iraq. Sharp as a tack!
Today, I spoke with a man who fell out of an airplane. No joke! He fought in a war and took a jump out of a plane. His parachute didn't open, but fortunately he came away alive.
Yesterday, I spoke with the 100 year old man's son who told me that the old man is still a practicing attorney. Seriously, he's still taking cases! He also mentioned that he can hold a pretty mean debate about the war in Iraq. Sharp as a tack!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Nice to meet you!
I met a man who is 100 years old!!! Unbelievable! He said the trick is to stay sharp. I shook his hand and am taking his advice!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Deal of the Century!
You guys, no joke... after 85% off summer clearance items, no sales tax on shoes in Minnesota (they're a necessity), and 20% off overall price for opening a Herbergers' card, my mom and I bought 16 pairs of shoes for the whopping huge price of $110.00!
Unbelievable!
Unbelievable!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Such a classy lady
There is an older gentleman at my work named Willie. I don't know the details of his story, but he is a full time volunteer at the hospital. Rumor has it that he once was a top administrator here and had some sort of accident or stroke that damaged his mental capacity. Doctors at Georgetown saved his life so once he was better, he enlisted as a full time volunteer. I asked him a few weeks ago how long he's been here and he said, "I have volunteered at Georgetown Hospital 18,500 hours." That's like 9 YEARS of full time employment.
Willie does simple tasks. He sorts the mail, delivers stuff, sits in a chair, files, and best of all, he brings me a glass of water with ice and a lemon every morning- without fail. I always tell him thank you, but Willie doesn't say much. Sometimes I ask him how he's doing and after a short "I'm well," he bee-lines out of the room.
Today I ran into him at the refrigerator in the break room. In his extremely awkward approach (that I've gotten used to), he said, "Good morning, Charlee," patted me on the back and continued, "you look nice today. You're such a classy lady."
Hahaha! I love it... I'm a classy lady! Thank you, Willie! I'm so grateful for your kindness and for the water every morning!
Willie does simple tasks. He sorts the mail, delivers stuff, sits in a chair, files, and best of all, he brings me a glass of water with ice and a lemon every morning- without fail. I always tell him thank you, but Willie doesn't say much. Sometimes I ask him how he's doing and after a short "I'm well," he bee-lines out of the room.
Today I ran into him at the refrigerator in the break room. In his extremely awkward approach (that I've gotten used to), he said, "Good morning, Charlee," patted me on the back and continued, "you look nice today. You're such a classy lady."
Hahaha! I love it... I'm a classy lady! Thank you, Willie! I'm so grateful for your kindness and for the water every morning!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
You're a Cowboy!
Favorite thing I heard today:
Comment #1: "Your name is Stetson and you live on Wyoming Ave?!?! You must be a cowboy!"
Comment #2: "Oh! You're wearing all black? I thought it was just a fashion statement!"
Our nurse practitioner said this to a patient who is a priest.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Sometimes I am Mean
You guys, I have to admit this... I am mean sometimes. I generally have a pleasant and patient attitude, demeanor, personality, or whatever you want to call it. But sometimes, I lash out. (Imagine that!) And I usually lash out to someone who didn't do anything to me. Today, the American Express Card customer service lady got it. So right now, I'm giving a shout out to all those customer service folks who put up with everyone else's bad days... Thanks for taking it, and sorry I gave it!
On a better note, I helped someone with the last name Snodgrass today. hahaha! That's just funny to me. :)
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
NYC, baby!
Yes folks, I have been to NYC 8 times in the past 3 months. I pretty much give in to being A-D-D and that city is the perfect place for someone with a short attention span.
Highlights from last weekend's trip include:
"MacGyvering" my way into Ben's house to steal his money and passport and then rushing to the Viet Nam Embassy before it closed... there's a lot more to that one.
Finding enough parking for 3 cars on W 76th st. We helped an ungrateful New Yorker squeeze his Suburban into a parallel spot in front of is. He didn't even say thank you!
Dining at the Deluxe Diner with NYC friends. Dinner was their compliments... They're SO good to me - maybe that's why I keep going to NYC!
Meeting up with Amber's Chile friends in the Village. Just as it started pouring rain, we slipped into a restaurant on 4th Street where we chatted for hours into the night.
Sleeping with Amber in a twin bed while the new roommate slept in the same room. "Shhhhh! He's sleeping!"
Running in Central Park. Mmm... best way to start a NY Saturday.
Holding sweet babies. The purpose of the trip was Caitlin's wedding. I was given babysitting duty during the Temple ceremony.
Wedding pictures in Central Park. Weddings are a big deal in NYC... like bigger than usual. Not only was the photographer taking pictures, but so were the tourists and passerbys. Tour buses honked, traffic stopped, people gawked. The wedding party was beautiful and Caitlin's dress was incredible!
Eating hummus from "The Hummus Place." I don't even know where to begin to say how much I LOVE this hummus. This time, I got it to go and ate in a playground park down near Washington Square while watching a street basketball game.
Meandering through the subway in order to find the reception.
Sleeping - napping - on the rooftop of 2 Gold St. The patio garnered phenomenal views and peaceful benches... I couldn't help myself!
Pizza at 11:00pm.
Going to 169 Bar to listen to a band with the Bush brothers. I loved the beat. Will someone please help me remember what the band was called?!?!?!
Telling Amber at 2AM that I didn't want to take her to the Airport the next morning.
Helping Ben recover his lost luggage.
Taking Amber to the airport. I stick to commitments... even if it puts me out (even at 6 AM).
Walking through Central Park on Sunday Morning with Jeff.
Attending the Manhattan 8th ward.
Driving home with Ben and Jeff. We stopped by the Meridian Hotel on our way out of the city to indulge in rumored highly incredible hamburgers at a highly recommended diner. I can see why they're known to be so good... mmmm!
Driving to work on Monday morning with NO gas! I put 13.4 gallons in during my lunch break... I actually don't know how many gallons the tank holds, but I'm pretty sure that's the emptiest I've ever let it get.
Needless to say, I had a blast of a weekend!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Do you like it?
I want a change - thoughts? How do you like the new template? Let me know what you think.
I'm keeping busy these summer days. I spend them enjoying golf, exploring DC, new restaurants, movies at Screen on the Green, dancing in Dupont, road tripping to Palmyra, NY, biking to Eastern Market, reading good books, working with funny patients, chatting with friends, running "the bridges," checking out museums, sleep overs with girlfriends, and so much more... keeps me super busy and I love it!
I'm keeping busy these summer days. I spend them enjoying golf, exploring DC, new restaurants, movies at Screen on the Green, dancing in Dupont, road tripping to Palmyra, NY, biking to Eastern Market, reading good books, working with funny patients, chatting with friends, running "the bridges," checking out museums, sleep overs with girlfriends, and so much more... keeps me super busy and I love it!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
A Great Escape
I just helped this rad lady who lives in a nursing home. She told me about how she ran away at 3:00 am a couple weeks ago. She got down the hall and out the door without anyone seeing her. A cab was waiting and she went to McDonald's. It was what she wanted to do. She had planned it all out. She almost got away with it until she came back and a few of the workers saw her getting out of the cab. Now she has to wear a "chastity belt" - a wrist band that goes bazerk (is that even a word?) when she enters the elevator without permission. But she said it was worth it because "you just have to live a little." Her visit to the doctor's office today was a treat and she topped it off by having a slice of pizza in the cafeteria. I hope I grow old with that kind of pizazz!
Another patient just called and told me that he received a kidney transplant for his birthday this week.
It's been a good day.
Another patient just called and told me that he received a kidney transplant for his birthday this week.
It's been a good day.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Mmm! Blueberries... and, what?!?! peaches?
Many of you know that blueberries are hands down my favorite food. One summer, I ate them with nearly every meal. I especially love how unpredictable they are - sometimes they're a bit bitter and other times, they're pure joy in my mouth!
Today, however, I experienced a close rival to my blueberry obsession. I had a perfect white peach that dripped juice as I bit into it. Messy, yes, but sassy in my mouth!
Mmmmm... I love summer fruits!
Friday, July 06, 2007
070707
I've been raving about it since January 1st. I tell everyone - friends, family, patients (at work), strangers. 070707 is my Birthday! It's pretty cool that I was born 25 years ago at 1:37 in the morning on July 7.
Here's the plan for the day:
- Sleeping in
- Morning run
- Horseback riding in the afternoon
- BBQ with friends
- Fireworks in Old Towne (Yes, the entire city is celebrating! How did they know I love fireworks?)
It's going to be a fun day!
A lady told me this week that getting old isn't for sissies and another gave me the advice to stay young. I've spent a lot of time this week thinking about the turning of an age, the year behind, and the year to come. I think I'll like 25.
Here's the plan for the day:
- Sleeping in
- Morning run
- Horseback riding in the afternoon
- BBQ with friends
- Fireworks in Old Towne (Yes, the entire city is celebrating! How did they know I love fireworks?)
It's going to be a fun day!
A lady told me this week that getting old isn't for sissies and another gave me the advice to stay young. I've spent a lot of time this week thinking about the turning of an age, the year behind, and the year to come. I think I'll like 25.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Welcome to my favorite month!
I know, I know... I've been MIA for a few weeks. Believe it or not, blogging takes a lot of time. Nevertheless, sorry for neglecting you.
Now, on to better things -
I would like to welcome my favorite month of the entire year...
JULY!
I love July! Everyday in July is my favorite day. I celebrate them all. When I was younger, I loved July because it was as far away from school on both ends as I could get. Not that I didn't like school, but I certainly loved the summer. And now, I just love it because it's summertime.
July also hosts a few really good holidays, namely Independence Day, Pioneer Day, and my BIRTHDAY!!!!!
Have you ever seen the movie, Sandlot? The 4th of July scene in that movie is kinda like how mine were growing up. The entire neighborhood came out to celebrate it together. In SD, it's legal to buy wicked cool fireworks and set them off in the country or in the neighborhood. Going to the firework stand usually happened on or around the first of the month, and it was a big deal. I can remember driving out of town to the fireworks stand, the smoky smell of explosives, and the shiny wrappers with Chinese writing. We would scour the isles to find the coolest best fireworks and then compare when we got home. The next four evenings consisted of night games and fireworks. We shot roman candles, had tank wars, conglomerated rockets out of PCP pipe in order to maximize bottle rocket and black cats, threw snaps, and lit up roses and fountains and sparklers.
On the Fourth, American flags graced every doorstep and families came out for picnics. In the evening around dusk, everyone would head to the banks of the Big Sioux River to secure the cheapest seats for the fireworks show put on by the Empire Fairgrounds near the airport. Oooooooohs followed by Aaaaaaaaaawes slipped from our lips as lights danced with bangs in the sky. When I was really little, the sounds scared me, but I never admitted it then. On an Independence Day when I was in school, I wrote a poem to capture the moments of the day and express the patriotic feelings I felt. If I can find it, I'll post it.
Awe, so there's a little memory lane for ya. As for the present, I don't really have plans for the Fourth, but I'm sure it will entail a BBQ and fireworks shows. I'm definitely residing in the right place for this holiday.
Let July begin!!!!
Now, on to better things -
I would like to welcome my favorite month of the entire year...
JULY!
I love July! Everyday in July is my favorite day. I celebrate them all. When I was younger, I loved July because it was as far away from school on both ends as I could get. Not that I didn't like school, but I certainly loved the summer. And now, I just love it because it's summertime.
July also hosts a few really good holidays, namely Independence Day, Pioneer Day, and my BIRTHDAY!!!!!
Have you ever seen the movie, Sandlot? The 4th of July scene in that movie is kinda like how mine were growing up. The entire neighborhood came out to celebrate it together. In SD, it's legal to buy wicked cool fireworks and set them off in the country or in the neighborhood. Going to the firework stand usually happened on or around the first of the month, and it was a big deal. I can remember driving out of town to the fireworks stand, the smoky smell of explosives, and the shiny wrappers with Chinese writing. We would scour the isles to find the coolest best fireworks and then compare when we got home. The next four evenings consisted of night games and fireworks. We shot roman candles, had tank wars, conglomerated rockets out of PCP pipe in order to maximize bottle rocket and black cats, threw snaps, and lit up roses and fountains and sparklers.
On the Fourth, American flags graced every doorstep and families came out for picnics. In the evening around dusk, everyone would head to the banks of the Big Sioux River to secure the cheapest seats for the fireworks show put on by the Empire Fairgrounds near the airport. Oooooooohs followed by Aaaaaaaaaawes slipped from our lips as lights danced with bangs in the sky. When I was really little, the sounds scared me, but I never admitted it then. On an Independence Day when I was in school, I wrote a poem to capture the moments of the day and express the patriotic feelings I felt. If I can find it, I'll post it.
Awe, so there's a little memory lane for ya. As for the present, I don't really have plans for the Fourth, but I'm sure it will entail a BBQ and fireworks shows. I'm definitely residing in the right place for this holiday.
Let July begin!!!!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Summer Kick Off: Duck Beach!!
It's officially summer now, which means it's totally kosher to wear white pants and linen.
My favorite part about Duck, you ask? hmm...
Well, besides Duck crushes, let me display:
Definitely being knee deep in the sand with the sun blazing on my back!
All I can say is, LET THE SUMMER BEGIN!!!!!
My favorite part about Duck, you ask? hmm...
Well, besides Duck crushes, let me display:
Definitely being knee deep in the sand with the sun blazing on my back!
All I can say is, LET THE SUMMER BEGIN!!!!!
Monday, May 21, 2007
I heart NYC
I visited my sister in NYC this weekend.
And I quote her:
"We had a great time going to Serendipity Café, shopping in SOHO, and the NYC ballet. We also managed to fit in a game of two-hand touch football with some kids in the park. It was a great time."
I LOVE having family on the East Coast! It's the perfect excuse to take off for the weekend.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
School's out for the summer!
I finished my psychology class today. Yay for summer and for figuring out what I want to do when I grow up! Well, at least for the mean time...
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