Karama: Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone!    Starting tomorrow at noon, I will be officially out-of-contact until about January 7th.  My email box will fill up, so if you get a bounce back or something, I have not changed addresses, fallen off the planet, been eaten by a wild animal, bitten by a Black Mamba, succumbed to Ebola, Hemorrhagic fever,  typhoid, yellow-fever, or any number of other exotic possibilities.  I'm simply acting like a tourist in Ethiopia. Being out-of-contact is a bit scary - as my computer and telephone help me feel tethered to my other life.     Still - I will TRY to have fun ;-)

Out cell phones don't work over there - so we'll try for sim-cards, but in all likely hood we'll all go in together and buy  cheap Ethiopian phone so we can call home or get calls.  

In Kampala now - Mid-service medical is done.  I'm doing stuff for headquarters: volunteer lounge, helping arrange space in the new offices...  Peace Corps had its end of year party today under tents out on the lawn - huge cookout - all the usual Ugandan fare and BBQ chicken and as a nod to their Muzungu staff there was CHOCOLATE CAKE complete with icing.  This is extremely rare - as this is absolutely NOT Ugandan in any way.   That was followed by a White Elephant gift exchange among the thirty plus staff and it was great fun to see their great sense of playfulness come out!   There were a few other volunteers there,  so it was lovely to be included in what was really a staff event.

Staying at the Annex again and there have been more burglaries here.  Seems a ring of thieves does pretty well with this MO:  someone will check into a targeted room - typically a single that can be easily watched from an adjoining room.  While acting as a "guest" they take the key and duplicate it, then check out normally.  Sometime later, they come back as a guest across the hall - and wait for their next victim to check into the room across the hall.  Since they can be sure there will only be one person in the room (too cramped for two), when that person leaves to go shower or to the bathroom, they simply use the key and take the electronics.   All very well orchestrated.  They do it at high end hotels as well, but pose as businessmen and dress in keeping with that hotels clientele. 

What that means for us is that every time we go to shower, etc. using the detached showers or bathrooms, we have to take all our gear.  A friend thought his belongings were safe locked inside three locked bags which he then chained/locked to his bed frame.  The thieves waited till he left to shower, opened his locked door, cut through all three bags and took his gear.  Only the fancy-pants hotels have electronic keys and changing the locks doesn't work because all it takes is one guest between victims to copy the new key and go again.   

Frustrating... especially at Christmas. Traveling with our passports, travel money etc.  it adds an extra layer of stress and vigilance.   This the season...   Locking my computer up at Peace Corps while I'm gone.  

And that's all the news that's fit to print.    I'm thinking of you all  these holidays and and count my blessings for your friendship. Know that I miss you all and will think of you going to celebrations, parties, gathering with friends and families and celebrating life.  Have a sip of bubbly or Nog for me; otherwise I will have far too much catching up to do when I get back.  I send my love and toast you all.  I'm looking forward to seeing what type of energetic shift occurs around the 12-21-12  and welcoming in 2013 while discovering one of the most ancient civilizations in the world, visiting underground churches and Axum - said to house The Arc of the Covenant.  Then there's Lucy, the 3 million year old hominid discovered in the Awash Valley and resulted in Ethiopia being labeled  the Cradle of Mankind.   What a place to welcome in the next chapter.  

Blessings!  

Eye-Opener: Perceptions of Americans

Had an interesting experience last Saturday.  Gee was it really just a week ago?  Why does it seem like so far back.    Sometimes this feels like the land of "no-time," or like I'm living in a time-warp.  Is it 2013 yet?   Here was last weeks eye-opener.

When new Peace Corps Trainees arrive in country they are assigned Home-stay Families with whom they live during training.  The purpose of this is three fold. 

·      First, to give new arrivals an opportunity to adjust and get accustomed to living in another country while they discover things like how to:  take a bucket bath, clean a latrine, cook on a Sigiri (charcoal stove), adapt to local food and basically ratchet down a first world life-style without self-destructing.  In theory at least, one is placed with a family that speaks the language he/she will be learning for the part of the country to which they will be assigned.

·      Which brings us to the second purpose: to have daily practical experience in speaking the language.  In our training group, the language part was an abysmal failure, prompting PC Uganda to change the whole approach.  Sooooo, the current format has PCVs  assigned to live for three or so weeks with Home-stay families IN the region where they will be living.    This makes a bit of sense. 

·      Finally, being with a host family gives our bodies time to acclimate to local foods, water and climate and do it in a somewhat controlled space where medical is still nearby.  In our group roughly half the group was sick half of the time! 

Since Gulu region is getting ten new Education volunteers, they will be living with families in Gulu Town. That means they need some orientation about what to expect when hosting Americans – most of whom have never lived outside the US except maybe as tourists and that really doesn’t count for much when you will be living like a PC volunteer, not a tourist in a hotel (translate – with amenities).  So last Saturday, I was the volunteer “invited” to meet with host families, do a little presentation on keeping their Volunteer healthy and then fielding questions from a volunteer’s perspective.  All went pretty well and I have to admit – it was pretty enlightening on both sides.  I introduced myself in Acholi, then gave the presentation in English while Moses translated.  Had to go to the market and buy veggies Americans like but Acholis as a rule would never buy: green beans, broccoli, green peppers, carrots….  That’s if they are available, which is seldom the case in the north, once you’re out of Gulu Town and they are rare-as-hen’s teeth even here.  I have only in the last week discovered a sometimes source for broccoli and cauliflower and felt like I’d won the lottery.  Also had to talk a little about how to prepare them!   Me – talking about cooking.  Well - I can boil water, but cooking here has lost a lot of it's appeal.  Anthony Bourdain would have been a better choice… but he’s probably out cooking  bulls’ testicles some where.  We did not address the eating of or preparation of white ants…  ;-)  which are “in season now.”  

                                                                                                 

Toward the end of the meeting the group of about 30 broke into two groups tasked with writing down things they think they KNOW about Americans and what they have HEARD about Americans.  They were told not to “hold back” and – they didn’t.  (BTW, no PC training is complete without dividing into groups and writing SOMETHING down on flip chart paper.  It simply cannot be done. As a rule, Peace Corps volunteers hate these activities because they run the gamut from the ridiculous to the absurd, so I groaned when it was announced.

This time, however, it yielded some pretty interesting (if not disheartening) information and what came from the group was NOT pretty. (God, I’m glad I came dressed properly for the occasion – that was one of the “bads” listed by both groups.  read on…)  Once listed, it was my job to respond to each of these characterizations without gasping, do it in a politically correct fashion and in a way that makes our integration into community easier.   Americans really do have some behaviors that come from privilege, self-esteem and often just a general lack of awareness or exposure to other cultures.  And there just aren’t enough words, time or space to explain some of the cultural differences.   Always an eye-opener to see yourself as others do…  But that’s one of the things this experience provides, a constant mirror. 

Here are some of the not so flattering adjectives that were used to identify Americans:

·      War mongers

·      Selfish (territorial), Greedy

·      Harsh (meaning direct)

·      Not God-fearing

·      Condone Homosexuality

·      Dress inappropriately

·      Loud and proud

·      HUGE (I resent that!)

·      Eat a LOT!

·      Drink and smoke a lot

·      Invade countries for oil, gold, etc

·      Rich

And these are from people who volunteered to host us.  Imagine what those who “don’t like us” might have to say.   Host Families are not actually paid, but they are given an extremely generous stipend to cover food so they can they actually end up doing pretty well.  So while I believe their motivations to host are generally good, one host family in Wakiso did mention that they might just get a cow next time – less trouble and more money that hosting volunteers.   Hmmmm   Well there it is folks.  You want a PCV Volunteer or a cow?  Sometimes I think this may be a hands-down decision – get a cow.  Only two families of this group had every had an American in their homes and few already seemed a bit hostile, but most were open and lovely.

Luckily, not listed were those about Muzungus eating the ears of small children....   or blue eys coming from the devil. A while ago, when  I was at a school in the bush about an hour out of Gulu, a little boy asked me to take my sunglasses off.  When the kids ( numbering about 50) saw my blue eyes that literally jumped back with the look of terror in their eyes, leading me to think there's a not-so-good myth out there about blue-eyed monsters. 

Some other observations made me feel a bit more hopeful ;-)

·      Punctual

·      Curious

·      Know about a lot of things

·      Helpful

·      Like exercise and play sports

·      Organized and methodical

·      Proud  in a good way

·      Generous

·      Have grey hair (can’t argue with that one)

·      Some are friendly

·      Responsible

  

With the anti-Homosexuality Bill about to pass, that particular issue was delicate to address, but well handled by the Ugandan organizer.  It was an interesting cultural exchange and – of course – one of the reasons we are here.   AND… it’s a heads up to see just how other countries perceive us, both good and bad.   In this case, the “bad” were clarified with explanations, but there’s a bit of truth in all.    I admit to sometimes being appalled myself – by Americans and Europeans alike. 

 

One of the topics that always comes up here is that of religion.   Ugandans are very public and fervent in their demonstration of religious allegiance.    When it was explained that just because we don’t attend church (all day Sunday), it doesn’t automatically mean we don’t have a spiritual or religious path and that we consider religious preference a personal matter – they seemed downright relieved  We’re not not all just a bunch of heathens after all.  (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked “where do you pray.” I explain that “I pray at home…” )   Then Kabayo, organizer of this session brought up the fact that one of the cornerstones of the American system was religious freedom and freedom from persecution on the basis of race, color or belief  - it was an ah-ha moment. And not just for the Ugandans in the room.  It always takes my breath away a bit when I hear our history and constitution quoted by someone here. It’s another one of those things:  that when you live with a convenience or a right, it’s easy to get complacent and fail to appreciate it. It’s the absence of it that brings into high-definition!  

That’s my week in the rear-view mirror.  Getting ready to vacate Gulu for a month and it’s both exciting and a bit unsettling with packing for a month in a backpack, hoping you have everything for any eventuality.  But that's true if you just walk out the door to go to the field.  It’s not like traveling in the states when if you forget something you can pick it up on the other end.  Taking anti-malarial, meds, my steri-pen, camera and a few changes of clothes and that’s it.  Oh yeah - and money.  The Ethiopian currency is the Birr and you can't exchange shillings there.  Have someone to mostly be in the house – a real relief.  Just have to get on the other side of the wee-hours-of-the-morning departure from Gulu and a week in the Annex where the crime rate is up.  It means taking computer, camera, etc. to the bathroom and the shower, which is precisely why none of us are taking  to Ethiopia.  

But – once we’re on that plane – the excitement will set in!!!!  We’ll be on the dark-side-of-the-moon for almost a month.  No computers.  No cell-phones.  Oh Lordy – can we do it?  

Merry Christmas ya’ll ;-)

Pillowcase Dresses: Literacy in a New Light

Your donations and a sample pillowcase dress

Tuesday we set out for our first Pillowcase Dress training with the men and women of Pawel Lalem, a village deep in the bush about 86 km (53 miles or so) north-ish of Gulu.  With supplies (left) in tow, we bounced and tilted over one lane roads that felt more like a moto-cross course than a road. We met huge bus after bus swaying perilously leaving behind it a suffocating, blinding dust cloud.   Comings and going along the stretch of "highway" resemble the game of chicken, with each vehicle jockeying for the center and testing the others' courage or stupidity.  The biggest wins, hurtling down the middle while the other, be it truck, Boda, bicycle or human gets the hell out of the way by pulling into the ditch - often leaving only a few inches between vehicles.  It's heart stopping. More than once we passed 18-whellers (gas trucks and buses) with three set of wheels off the ground.

Smothered in dust after an hour's drive (remember this is only 25 miles one way), we arrived at the school where  the Women's Pressure Group meets.  The name is just what it implies:  the women group together to discuss things the community needs and put pressure on same to be better parents, educate their children, keep girls in school,  etc.  It's effective.  Though the meeting is to start at 10:30, we arrive at 11:00 (by local standards this ranges from being early to on time) and there are only a handful of the 60 people expected at the meeting.   The playground is a riot of activity since the kids are at recess  which somehow lasts the entire time we are there (till 3:00).  We had a somewhat more sedate audience (above) for the duration while we met under a huge tree.  Thanks to your generous donations, I have come with 60 pillow cases, instructions translated into Acholi, needles, thread, pins, scissors and elastic.
 
 Another hour passed and we began to make noises about starting with thirty people: mostly women but with a few men. This is a culture where people wait till the last person arrives before starting.  But since the last person didn't arrive until we were ready to leave at 3:00, it wouldn't have paid to wait...  They finished their VSLA meeting, tables were brought out and we started by reading instructions, because this is a literacy training as much as anything else.   Words can't begin to define the process, because everything I said needed to be translated into Acholi.  And there are not Acholi words for some of the English, so when I hear how it is literally translated I'm wondering "who said that?"

We broke people up into smaller groups by village, so they can share materials and work together on their dresses after they leave.  They have to share things like printed instructions, thread and scissors, but are each given a needle, some pins, a pillowcase and elastic for the top of the dress.  We demonstrated the cutting process and they all took turns with the few pairs of scissors. I left them with one small pair, but they really wanted the big ones. After all the demonstration projects are through, the good fabric scissors will be given to the groups.

This is an enthusiastic lot and they caught on quickly to each step even though most have done nothing more than sew on a button, almost no-one has a needle at home and scissors are a luxury.   We cut elastic for everyone to take home, demonstrated how to insert it and left them with their supplies to work and install the elastic before next weeks lesson when they'll be shown how to use bias tape to line the armholes and make the straps.   Here they are cutting elastic and displaying their pillowcases - soon to be dresses. 

 Not only will this project move them forward with applying the literacy skills they've learned, it keeps the group active and offers them life skills.  Knowing how to sew allows them to repair their clothing and mosquito nets, adapt the skills for other projects and potentially extend this into an income generating activity.  They can buy the pillowcases in bulk at the market and adapt the other materials. 

When this project finishes, we'll use the skills learned to make reusable menstrual pads (RUMPS) to allow girls to stay in school. The drop out rate for girls reaching puberty is huge, reducing school attendance by almost 75% simply because they don't have supplies and usually do not have their own "changing rooms" or latrines at school.  This is a huge issue in the rural areas and especially the north where girls don't have the funds to buy pads - so they stay at home due to embarrassment.   It's not something we would even think about, but here it's a major deterrent to keeping girls in school.

So that's the update so far.  I know it's been a long time in coming.  I want to thank  the forward thinking teachers, parents and children at Welches Elementary School in Welches Oregon for their amazing generosity in sending 150 pillow cases all the way to Africa to help people they don't even know.  And to all of you who went to the trouble and expense of locating and sending needles, scissors, thread, trim and even the plastic bags to sort supplies - an equally heartfelt thank you.  Every piece of what you sent is being put to productive use and the enthusiasm of the LABE team in supporting the project and the villagers for embracing it is evidence that you are appreciated and making a difference.   These projects will continue until I leave and I believe will be self-sustaining in my absence, because we're teaching them SKILLS that make it possible to better life in ways that matter.  To us it's an old pillow-case or a book.  For the people in the village it's opportunity.  Thank you!

The Cosmic 2x4 and Options

Haven't had a day like this in a long time,  which is a good thing.  I was feeling the complacency of things having normalized - which they have.  The problem is that THIS is normal, I'd just not been to a meeting in a long time. December 5th in International Volunteer Day or some such and Peace Corps has decided we need to do something to show our presence.  Basically, I feel like we do that everyday...     evidently there is power in numbers, so I guess the idea is that all of the volunteer organization somehow come together and make a splash.

Since no one in Peace Corps Gulu has picked up the baton on this, I was asked to attend a committee meeting to see how Peace Corps can participate and so I did.  Those of you who know me, know that I HATE committees.  There's a reason I've been self-employed most of my adult life -  decision by committee has never been my choice of a good time  (The phrase, "doesn't play well with others" comes to mind) or a good way to work, so I have artfully avoided this.  Yet here I am doing it in Uganda - the poster child for decision by consensus.

OK, OK - really I did go with an open mind - but I anticipated waiting - even brought my Kindle to read - so there was waiting.....      After a few prompt Ugandans came in - we hurried up and waited for almost an hour when the chairperson deigned to come and started what dragged into a 3 hour meeting with 17 people needing to weigh in on every topic and decision.  They spent a full 45 minutes  discussing the difference between a Moderator for the session and the Speaker.  I left "early" meaning I did the unforgivable and didn't take tea.

Instead, I hoofed it down the mile-plus stretch of Kitgum Road, one of the dustiest, most rutted roads in Gulu and arrived back at LABE covered in dust, pissed, hungry and needing to take three boxes to the Post Office to be sent to Kampala  so Florence, who hosted me in Wakiso during training can start a community library in her garage.  I've been TOLD to show up at 2:00 to pay the conductor to get the boxes on the bus for going to Kampala the next morning at 7:00.  Again - waiting - this time an hour and a half, but as rivulets of sweat ran down my body mixing with the dusting of red dirt I'd just picked up, I was entertained by darling little boy who, fascinated by my Kindle and my white skin , kept me company.  When  the already late bus finally unloaded I was told take my boxes home and return at 6AM the next morning as they don't trust the security on the bus.  I pulled the "Muzungu card" and  begged fatigue, walking a mile with 40 pounds of books and frustration.  Basically I refused to leave and they said they would take the boxes as a "favor."

Ah yes - in short - this was just a normal experience.  as I said, things had just gotten into rather a routine and I'd been feeling pretty adaptive.  Well - the universe always has a 2X4 waiting to get your attention. So it was especially wonderful when a few days later friends arrived and we were treated to the sight of an o-l-d woman twirling her broom handle like a baton and marching outside the gate where the marching band was practicing. She was so proud and not the least self-conscious, probably having learned the skill with a similar band in her youth. Can you see that happening in the States?   The next day we watched a marathon of The Game of Thrones on their computer and were treated to a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner at the home of friends who work for USAID.

The universe of feelings here continues to flip with breakneck speed and while it's not as often, I still find myself switching from exhaustion and frustration to moments of pure joy and surprise running the full range of emotions in less than a minute.

Days like the one at the meeting and the Post Bus always serve as contrast. They remind me of what I have - and at the core of that is options - the very presence of which translates as opportunity - a hard to find commodity here for most Ugandans.   Last Thanksgiving we were just settling in at site and still in overwhelm at the enormity of what lay ahead.  We're at the tipping point now - past the halfway mark and most of us are already taking stock of what our time here has meant.  Believe it or not, we are now thinking "Oh my god, I've got less than a year left - how will I get everything done?"

Once again - it's a mixed bag of emotions.  May you all FEEL blessed and BE blessed in the season ahead.

Mid-service Reflections

Mid-service – the date we’ve been anticipating for well  over a year now, has come and gone.  Like a herd of turtles or a turd of hurdles, depending on which way you look at it – we all migrated toward Kampala – to the world of warm showers, softer beds, good food and friends and the sharing of tales.  

And tales there were, dramas here and there, awkward alliances, unraveling romances.  All the makings of a good mini-series, except that no one would believe it…  A few more of our number have departed for various reasons, ranging from debauchery and Boda Riding to poor site selection on the part of Peace Corps to Foreign Service Induction.    It was somewhat sobering to realize that of our original group of 46, only 34 remain in country.  Sorry Russ, I know you haven’t left for Foreign Service yet, but we are all grieving your departure in advance!

We were reminded of the rules again:  being caught on a Boda  (motor cycle taxi) is a one-way ticket home as is being found in Kampala without prior permission.    There’s a lot of pissin- and moanin’ about these policies - but they are essentially there for our protection and the pocket book of the taxpayer.  It’s one of the things you sign on for when you come to Peace Corps but, in theory we are adults and some of us haven’t had any externally imposed rules for a looooong time (that would be me).  It’s just that when all starry eyed coming in we minimized the “rules” part – thinking we are going to be enthralled by either the adventure or the act of “making a contribution,” we under-estimated how much these rules and a slew of others like them, would mess with daily life.  Then we got here and discovered that bursts of insight, moments of thinking you’re making a difference, the fleeting encounters that warm your heart – are but exclamation points to an otherwise difficult and often boring, plodding two years of planting seeds we will not be around to harvest.  We’ve adapted in ways that are as different as all of the personalities here.  Some of go inside and philosophize, some try to self-medicate out of the malaise only to rediscover it once the hangover wears off, we watch movies and TV series sucked from home, we all break the rules we think we can and some are simply never at site.  Like many other things, I suspect that the real excitement, lessons and insights over our adventures – both as a group and as individuals – will only blossom in retrospect.  While I don’t think I’ll be lounging in bed fondly reminiscing about rats in the kitchen, heart-stopping bus rides, squalid latrines or slogging through the mud, I’m sure – like the boat trip – I will long for days with enough time to read a book, be surprised by life and reflect. I think I will also miss the marching band tuning up everyday at 5 PM and certainly the camaraderie of friends that comes from shared miseries.   But I’m not gone YET, and until then I reserve – or savor the right -  to vent.

LABE programs are moving forward – in fact getting busy.  Books and puzzles and pillow-case dresses are getting to the field and my input is valued.  From other reports, I think that makes me one of the lucky ones.  Many remain frustrated by the act of slogging forward  at the pace of a sloth (even here there is much “slogging”).  We were reminded by a couple of ex-PCVs who presented at Mid-service that much of our impact is on the one-to-one personal level and while Congress may not think so or be able to measure it,  there is huge value in people learning to see the light in another that will contribute to change.  I’ll spare you my diatribe over misapplied aid money, but there was an interesting article recently in the New York Times, quoting the Ugandan author of the anti-homosexual legislation rumored to be passed by the and of the year.  His statement was essentially - if there were an action to force the west to stop sending Uganda money, he would like that.   Well – this legislation might be that action according to dictates that have come from Washington.  We live in interesting times.

On a lighter note, I have finally found eggs with a yellow-yolk!  Ah HA!  And you thought they just come that way.  Well they don’t in Uganda… they are whitish grey, green and they taste like dirt because that is what the chickens eat most of the time.  So if you actually FEED a chicken, you’ll get a yellow yolk and they taste better.  Admittedly, these yolks border on orange, giving rise to the concern of WHAT they are being fed and if this will later be revealed to be some deadly long-festering carcinogen.  But for now, I have am revelling in having eggs that taste like eggs.  Small pleasures…

And we were able to see the new James Bond flick, Skyfall, while in Kampala.  It was a kick and felt almost like being in the States.   My house was still in tact from being away without a house-sitter, though the geckos and crickets had taken over. Mama kitty, Yin, welcomed me with ear-piercing,  “Where the hell have YOU been – I’m here growing a batch of babies and you have abandoned me to catching rodents!”  She was intransigent when I reminded her of her job description being just that.   She has taken to climbing through the window as an act of revenge.  Add to that a new batch of white-ants creeping through vents at night – and may regret that I have not developed a taste for the beasts sautéed and for sale in large heaps by the road. I could just catch my own.

And speaking of windows, yesterday as friends arrived in route to Murcheson Falls, we were about to go the eat, when I heard a child’s voice through my bedroom window saying something about Muzungu.  This is much too close – because I happen to know there are no pint size Ugandans living in my compound.     Once robbed, twice shy - I went to investigate and discovered a girl about 6 tending an infant and a toddler.  Neither of the two Acholi speakers (self being one and I use the term Acholi speaker loosely) were fluent enough to figure out who they were or where they were from.   I reluctantly left, because while these miniature people couldn’t mean trouble, those that left them could.  On our way out we discovered the mothers picking greens from along the alley leading to my compound.   The 6 year old had been left to care for the babies – a routine event here.   Not uncommon to see a 6-year old with one baby strapped to her back and chasing around a stair-step collection of siblings while the mother hauls water, works in the field, etc. 

I know – if that's the lighter note, I should stop.   So I will.   Thanksgiving is coming up and I have much to give thanks for.  The new USAID folks in town have invited the PCVs to celebrate at their house (a seriously fine ex-pat house with fun things like a full kitchen with contraptions like an oven and really nice bathrooms and lovely furnishings, not to mention gracious hosts!  So onward to Thanksgiving and locating an unsuspecting turkey to Christmas (and Ethiopia)!  Then… 9 months and counting!

Puzzles, Bubbles and Books

Finally we (LABE) have been able to pull resources together and get out to the villages in the bush with all the wonderful puzzles and books you have so graciously sent.  When we (PCVs) first arrived we were warned that it might take a year to get projects off the ground.  "Naaah," one says.  "I'm organized, motivated - I can do better!"   Well here it is one year in...  Much ground work has been done, books cataloged, repaired where necessary, older programs finished, this round of audits mostly complete, new programs gearing up, etc.  Things always happen in fits and starts:  great momentum followed by whiplash stops.  The morning after spending the last two days making learning materials in preparation to going to the field again, I was informed: "fuel is finished."  So, it was back to the office, working on other stuff - creating data-bases for the new program focused on establishing early childhood learning centers - always with other on-going programs and workloads in the background.   As you read on, I want you to know how deeply appreciated your gifts of books, puzzles, supplies, toys and so many other things are.  Truly, your generosity is making a difference for these children and their parents who are learning with them.  Because of you, they will have opportunities and exposure to concepts and materials many other children will never see.   There are not enough ways to say thank you.

A friend of mine recently commented on my earlier mention of the difference in cognitive abilities between the children here and those in the US - wondering aloud   if there might be abilities of a different kind here - that have simply never been discovered or tapped and what makes the west think it has all the answers.  In thinking about this, there is NO doubt that folks living close to the land, using every instinct for survival, growing food, occupied with providing for the daily needs of large families are much more in tune with rhythms and wisdom(s) that are simply ignored/lost in more "developed" environments.  Every culture has its ancient wisdom that "progress" arrogantly pushes aside. There are forms of intelligence even in our own culture that will never appear on an IQ test.  I've said before, with every step forward in modern convenience there is a trade.  In these days of paradigm shift, I think we are more conscious that ever about those trades.  If you've ever read the book Mutant Message from Down Under, written as fact, but alternately believed to be fiction because the tribal practices are so foreign to westerners, all manner of questions come up.  But one doesn't have to venture far into the realm of Quantum Physics and neuroscience to make connections between science, spirituality and ancient wisdom.

So - no I don't mean to imply that the west has it figured out.   We’re all in a world of woe if that’s all there is.  But – if the goal is to learn to read and write and develop the kinds of cognitive skills that offer a different type of problem solving demanded by urban cultures toward which previously agrarian societies are gradually being pushed, then the west has some experience with that.   So, enter things like puzzles and books and games and movements that build those skills.  The educational system here is almost totally lacking in that realm so it’s wonderful to be able to introduce those things at a grass roots level, in the villages with children and adults who may never have the opportunity to attend a private school which might offer some of these things.   Even in the private sector, however, these teaching tools are largely absent.

Friday we loaded puzzles, books, markers, and myriad other supplies in The Daughter of Japan (our faithful Toyota truck) and headed to Home Learning Centers in the bush.  Dropping off supplies and a home made blackboard here and there, picking up  some teachers and Parent Educators, we arrived at Palenga Pre-School and were greeted with 35 or so preschoolers dressed in lilac uniforms.  Visitors are always welcomed with a song and this day was no different.      Later the drums came out and we got music and dance as well.  Since Muzungus are novelty and I had nothin’ in my bag of tricks but bubbles.  And it turns out, nothing could have been better – wild excitement, shrieking, jumping and bubble chasing ensued.  

After this great introduction, we wended our way through back roads and trails, the truck engulfed in towering grasses as we caught glimpses of tukuls (mud huts) tucked into neatly swept compounds and papaya groves approachable only by foot path.  Finally we arrived at Adak Home Learning Center and were ushered past a man hacking his way through an 8-foot tall termite mound, the dirt from which will be made to build bricks that will - in turn - be used to construct more huts and possibly a bigger learning center.   From the look of the underside of the thatched roof, this HLC seems fairly new and in this small dark space sit 30 or so children raging from about 3 - 6 years old.   After a few minutes and some introduction from Joy in Acholi, the kids were divided into small groups and given the puzzles to explore.  Because village children have never had the opportunity to work with puzzles we used very basic wooden puzzles we would give toddlers.  Some "got it" immediately, others were still struggling to match apples to apples, etc. and understand that if it didn't fit one way, you rotate it until it does.  One understands in a heartbeat, that what seems intuitive is really a learned skill that in "first world" cultures one learns so gradually through "play" that you don't realize how much is really taught.  The older group was really challenged by a 12 piece puzzle, but totally engaged.  
 

After we’d burned off a little energy, books handed out into small groups.  Again, these children have never held a book, so needed instruction on turning the book so the pictures were right side up.  They were stunningly well behaved - ooooing and aahing over the pictures until everyone had had a turn with every book.  

The next week we headed back to one of the villages we didn’t have time for last week.  A large group had gathered  under the Mango tree because unlike the previous folks, this village of Oduku has just cleared the land and is building a thatched shelter so classes can be held even in the rain.      

One of the things that really moved me about this center was almost sacred nature of the tukul where the learning materials are and will be kept.  Constructed of mud and thatch with a dirt floor, it was meticulous clean and with learning materials hung along the walls lined with lace curtains.  They took greater care with this center than their own homes.  You can see what they treasure and the reverence with which the greet the opportunity to learn.

Puzzles, home made Snakes and Ladders games, matching boards and books were all brought out to great excitement.  The women "fighting" over puzzle pieces was the most fun.  The kids had a hard time focusing on the puzzles until I got out of the picture.  The teacher explained "all they see is your color...not the puzzle."  I tried without success to load the video, so these pictures will have to do.

The project is just getting off the ground and we have lots of centers to visit.  After everyone gets an introduction to the puzzles and books, they will be divided up among the Early Childhood Centers and left for folks to use on a daily basis.  Know that you generosity,  time-energy-and funds for collecting and mailing these materials is truly appreciated and will be well cared for.   You are all part of this project!  Next: Pillow Case Dresses!

Sometimes - it works

Today presented me with an interesting scenario and I'm mentioning it because it is so completely typical of what occurs here every day for every person trying to get something done.  My organization does really fine work - and as I've mentioned before, it does it in spite of astounding obstacles.  Obstacles that are impossible to even imagine from a first world perspective. 

One of the goals of one of our four programs is to introduce both child and adult learners to  technology.   To accomplish this, there is what called an ICT box:  a giant yellow indestructible box loaded with a laptop computer, camera and camcorder.   Children are introduced to the use of a camera as a way to stimulate interest and engage them in reading, writing their stories, then submitting same to be published in a LABE newspaper that goes to every village involved in the program.  Kids get to see their story, pictures and drawings in print and it's a great  incentive.

The purpose of the computers is ostensibly to help teachers generate computerized lesson plans, improve their technology literacy, share information - etc. 

Here are some issues that first world  doesn't understand, so while they provide part of the solution, the part that makes it work (power, back up batters, spare parts, etc.) fall through the cracks.

First, there is one box for thousands of users.  That means a number of things:

1.  It only goes out when field trips to that area and undertaken and special arrangements are made to either get the box from the center that holds it or coordinate visits  TO that center.

2. There are 4 computers for 46 teachers, spread among 4 schools sometimes as far as 60 km.  They have no transport, so this means riding a bicycle half a day over bad roads and trails to get there. They work from 7AM to 5PM and roads are a death trap after dark (7PM).

3.  There is no electricity at most schools and Home Learning Centers, so that means the devices must be picked up a day or week early for charging, because even in the "city" you may have power for a day or two and about half of that time it won't be where the equipment is...

4. When all of these factors match up and you can actually get the person who has the box to release it to you, IF it is charged, If the cables are with it, IF pictures taken by the previous user have been downloaded you can actually take physical possession of said box and get it to your distant location (if you vehicle is working and has not been stolen overnight, if the roads are passable.....)

5.  If you are traveling via motorcycle, you can either take the box or a passenger - but not both.  When two of you are required in the field, one trip is required to take the box and another to come back and collect the person...

You're beginning to get the idea I trust.

So today, my colleagues were asked to include the box in some training.  They had been the day before to the "keeper of the box," who agreed that they could get the box this morning at 9AM, charged and ready to go.  Colleagues arrived there later and were told that not only had the pictures taken earlier not be downloaded (no there is not a secondary scan disk), the device was not charged because they couldn't locate the cable, etc. adinfinitum and we have been without power during  business hours.  So - no box, no training, no assessment, etc. 

As I said, this is typical.  It's not an indictment, it just IS.  It's the way life unfolds on a daily basis when there is any need to coordinate access, transportation, power, equipment and people.  Each of these variables impacts all of the others all of the time.  When you have one set of variables under control, the others fall out of the box.  It's like herding cats.

And of course the western mind can come up with all manner of solutions: an extra battery, solar chargers, generators, telephones, etc.  Did I mention that there is either no funding, or it's not there when you need it.  Solar panels get stolen, gas runs out, vehicles don't work, plans are delayed by a million different factors.  And it doesn't help to stomp around, or complain, or push.  There is simply so much inertia, so many obstacles, one settles in for the long haul and breathes, finding another work around, another way to use the time...

The young woman PCV who came to visit over the weekend got up at 5AM to catch the early bus to be assured of there BEING a bus and getting here early to make the best use of her time.  She walked in the dark the mile or so to the bus and was told the bus had gotten stuck along the way due to heavy rains the night before (a 4 hour deluge).   The bus finally boarded at 10AM.

But sometimes,  serendipity happens and people and services come together in unexpected ways.  Last week, I met a young man, Dean, in Coffee Hut and discovered he  has been working with a charity that focuses on creating equal access for people with disabilities.    Although the Uganda Education Initiative states equal access and education for all, schools are not required to have ramps, transportation or even bathroom facilities for any level of disability.  Add to this that people can walk for hours to get to school (see mud, puddles, path ways, ruts and imagine someone on crutches or a wheelchair managing this) and the idea of equal opportunity evaporates. 

Dean has befriended a young disabled mother with two children.  She manages to support herself and care for her children through her activities as a seamstress, but has nothing to spare.  She does not read or write in any language and desperately wants to do both, in not only Acholi but English as well.  In Uganda, a man who fathers a child with a disabled woman does not have to acknowledge the relationship and therefore does not have to claim the children.    When Dean found out I work with a literacy group that offers localized literacy training for free (i.e. she doesn't have to walk 30 K to get there and ... it's free) we started trying to figure out a way this mother can access the program.  It turns out that LABE has a program in her village and she can take part in all of the training, along with her children.

The other fit has to do with her being a seamstress and being able to help with the Pillow Case Dress project.  Since she already knows how to sew, she can help continue the Project with the community, thereby cementing her involvement there and encouraging that women's group to follow-up with an IGA (Income Generating Activity).  Everybody wins.

That scenario could not have been anticipated, but it bloomed in the process of people coming together and really being committed to making a difference.  Her success will breed other successes and motivate others. And so it goes.   Yes - it's a Clairol ad.

In another such instance, the young man I mentioned in an earlier blog (Isaac who needed school fees) is continuing so far and the young woman who got this going is leaving.  As her parting gift on his 18th birthday, I along with others contributed to the purchase of a bicycle to help him get to a from school, work and home.  So - often against insurmountable odds, stuff works. 

Sometimes, just showing up is what it takes along with the belief that making small differences has impact.  Sometimes - it works, but almost never in the way you expected. 

Of Power and Piglets

Umeme's timing is exquisite.  Umeme is the power company and has such a reputation of predictability (i.e it will NOT "be there" when it is most needed) that it has gained Entity status.  People here talk about Umeme as tho it is a person.  "Ah!  That Umeme  is fickle...."    And indeed it is.    It has yet to be tagged with a gender, but Uganda, in seeking gender equity would be ill advised to label it female as is the case with many other fickle entities. 

And so it is tonight - fickle.  Having been without Umeme, for two days, sweltering in the night because of the unseasonable heat (did I mentioned in the last post about it pegging 117 degrees last week?) we were gifted two days with power.  No doubt because it would be bad form to mark the 50th anniversary of Uganda's independence with noooooo electricity for celebrations.  But - since it IS the big five-0, all of the local area officials are in Kampala at the huge do-das there.  So the date of our parade, etc. is "to be determined."    Still - I have the week off - a totally unexpected vacation.  And wait! There's a flash of light!   OH-MY Umeme is baaaaack.  Whee - I have to go blow out a house full of candles...       I've learned to always keep some sort of tap light or candle and lighter nearby.  When it's dark here it is really dark. 

Monday night, Independence Day eve - Diana Gardens, the club in my front yard, had a big event.  They began tuning up for this around three in the afternoon and my doors and windows were rattling. There is a true obsession with "loud" here.  I don't get it and I especially don't get how people can still hear.  Why is "noise induced hearing loss" not rampant?  People are still engaged in whispered greetings  a 20 paces while walking away from each other.  And they hear it!  Well - not this Muzungu.  After putting wads of toilet paper around every  iron bolt,  in all the doors and windows I foolishly asked if they might turn the volume down just a smidge - you know to maybe an intimate 130 decibels.  No way - they were just getting warmed up.

The party got started in earnest about 9PM after a good rain and continued until 4AM without so much as a pause for breath.   Sleep was not to be had, with or without earplugs.  I practically had to hold on to the bed to keep from being vibrated out - OK a slight exaggeration.  So I finished book #92 somewhere around 3:45AM.

And speaking of vibrations,  we had a little mini-earthquake last Friday night.  The  earth moved - and for all the wrong reasons.  I would have thought it was a train going by - but - oh yeah - I forgot - we don't HAVE trains up here. (Museveni destroyed all the tracks for fear of invasions.)   Lasted about 5 seconds.  I would have dismissed it as imagination had not Jenna texted me from the States that Gulu had an earthquake.   Now how did she know that?  Face Book no doubt - and then it was confirmed by a Ugandan friend.   UFO's, earthquakes - this is feeling like California.

Mid-service is almost here!  And the Ethiopia trip has been approved except for traveling in the south.  Seems Al Shabab is lurking, having come over the borders of Sudan and Somalia.  Turns out that the oldest physical evidence of a humanoid remains (3.5 Million years old) was discovered there and the Arc of the Covenant is said to still be enshrined in a temple at Axum.  Should make for an interesting trip.  And any country settled in part by the Portuguese and Italians has gotta have good food.   Even tho the Brits got there later, the good food habit was already established.  Can't wait - three weeks of adventure and culinary bliss.

Yin-kitty  (of the Yin/Yang duo) becomes more and more tame, still being trailed by her sole remaining calico kitten.  Somehow, having an almost-pet makes life feel more normal.  On a purely Peace Corps note, a friend whose project is helping to raise pigs in a village that's damn near impossible to get to is playing nursemaid to several baby piglets.  The mama died and the other new mama won't suckle them.  Soooo, she is tasked with finding a bottle to feed said piglets.  But - she ran out of propane and in addition to not being able to cook, she can't HEAT THE MILK for the little oinkers.    Just about the time life becomes mundane, there's another story around the corner.  Stay tuned.

Opera on the Post Bus? Naaah....

So - we were about half way home on the Post Bus ride from Kampala to Gulu.  It had been blessedly uneventful - just what you want on a bus ride considering the alternatives.   I got up early to be able to hit Brod, the bakery, to get my sanity making real croissant for the bus ride.  When I arrived at the PO, I was stunned to discover that they were serving tea, juice and breakfast breads to the passengers in the waiting area outside.  Wait just a minute - who am I-where am I-what is my name?   This is definitely NEW and - it was complimentary.  Things are changing before my eyes in Uganda.  There was a bus drivers' strike last week over safety conditions after a bus (not a Post Bus) of 40 rolled over and all died.  There's actually a suggestion to have armed guards on every bus to keep the DRIVERS in check. Wondering if this "breakfast move" is  focused on attracting customers.  It's known as the only really "safe" bus so they're already ahead of the game.  The road conditions add to the adventure.

OK - back to opera....  There we were, bouncing along and one of the several babies on board started wailing - I mean that shrieking cry that only little babies can manage.  As if in sympathy, the others join the chorus.  Stereo babies....  stereo crying babies.  And then - there OPERA starts vibrating out of the overhead speakers.  Not church music - Opera - something from Madam Butterfly I think.  And it's rather a lot to take in along the terrible road, on a terrible bus ride, in the terrible heat of a terribly long day in the middle of Uganda.  I looked to see if there was something correspondingly incongruous on the TV screen.  I was not disappointed.    The opera was the accompaniment to a scene of a large Ugandan woman dressed as a nun, running through a park - arms akimbo.  She stops in front of a cross - and there is "Jesus" mounted there - but when he sees her an jumps of the cross and starts running.  I'm not making this up.

This is pure comedy and I could not have written a more bizarre script.  I'm nearly convulsed with laughter, babies are wailing and madam Butterfly provides a backdrop to religious sacrilege.    Some days are just perfect in their absurdity.  This was one.

I'm starting a collection of "BUS STORIES."  It'll be the grown-up version of  The Wheels on the Bus.  It will no doubt be X-Rated  - there are some doozies (man peeing in a water bottle and PCV being slapped on the cheek by a flying breast). 

And I am back "home."  The house was left unoccupied, so I was relieved to discover all was well and as it should be.  I instantly dropped my bags and gratefully climbed under a COLD shower and loved every drop of it.    This concerns me.   One year and ten days remaining.  There are a few who can tell you to the minute.