A note on Kwanzaa...

Kwanzaa is a celebration that was made up in America in the '60's.  We do not celebrate Kwanzaa in Uganda. 

Holiday Oh Holiday, and the Best One of the Year!....

My plans for Christmas weren’t much like the plans I usually make, as to be expected.  The plans were: go out Christmas Eve until daylight, then church, then eat and relax all day.  We ended up not going out (which is OK--I was feeling grandma lazy), went to church for three hours, ate with the pastor (duck, YUM!) and drank for the rest of the afternoon.  The plans were to also go out Christmas night, but Immy and I were feeling the effects of the coffee-flavored Waragi packets that we had been sucking down all day, so we called it a night.  Her sisters, however, did go out and we didn’t see them again until six the next morning.  Bravo!  As a Christmas gift to the family, I bought a chicken (whom I named, dressed up with a ribbon and bonded with during the ride to Immaculate’s home.  I’m sure she’s been slotted for New Years Day dinner...I’ll miss you Henrietta...) PICTURES:

Henrietta, flaunting her fabulous feathers one last time...

Immy and her Mama getting down

Immaculate and I--I was clearly ready for this photo....

Immaculates father (in chair) and one of Immy's aunties

Me, enjoying chapatti and duck, while Irene, the eldest daughter, looks on

Immy DJed while Irene led the neighbor kids in a dance

I came home to this one day and just thought it was too adorable; Shamila, hanging out in the laundry, while her Mama looks on

Since I’ve been back, I’ve been sprucing up my place and re-arranging.  I made room for my sofa (so now my guests have a cushier place to sit than my blue garden chairs) and a bookcase that is on the way.  After visiting Liz’s place in Lira, and realizing that her two rooms are the same as mine, I decided that I wasn’t utilizing my room properly.  (Webele oku-inspriation, Liz!) 

I’ve been meaning to dive right back into work and start lesson planning, but I tend to find other things that fill my days before I get down to it.  In other words, I’m procrastinating.  That said, as I was weeding my walkway and trimming my bushes, I noticed my neighbors were running to see what was happening at the trading center.  A lot of excited words in Lusoga were exchanged, and there was some laughter.  I had to ask what was going on.  Turns out some guys dressed up like people from the electric company and were somehow stealing wires.  Well, the Wanyange folk put the kibosh on that--luckily police were called before anyone was burned alive.  One suspected thief was caught, and the other two escaped. 

And lastly, it’s the dry season.  I think.  It hasn’t rained in like, a week so I’m assuming this is really it.  It’s hot.  It’s not hot like Wisconsin in the summer (especially this past one, 112? Sorry guys,) but it’s just hot.  All. The. Time.  There’s no air conditioning in buildings or taxis (or my house) so it’s like there’s no escape.  I think the heat is giving me weird dreams.  But, as we say sometimes, TIWA (This is what? Africa).  So I’ve switched from using my blanket to sleeping near naked and waking in a pool of my own sweat.  And yes, I could buy a fan (and surprisingly power has been stable for a week, so it would be a worthwhile purchase) but because I splurged on the sofa and the bookcase in progress, I think I have to wait until next month for another big purchase. 

Post Script--for all of you who are sending me super exciting gifts, they have not yet arrived.  But no worries!  Things are just going mpola mpola and I’m sure that Kampala was hit hard by Christmas gifts from everywhere in the world to the expats serving here.  They’re coming, and I’ll tell you when I get them!  (Thanks in advance!)    

Camp GLOW 2011

    I’ve just returned from probably the closest thing I’ll get to an American Christmas celebration in Uganda.  Thanks to Maggie for hosting us in Iganga!  There were excellent eats and company, very fun!  We’ll see how the Uganda Christmas celebration compares...
    I’ve also returned from Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World), Uganda.  It took place December 4-10 in Entebbe at St. Theresa Girls School.  To see pictures from camp, check it out at their website here!
    My experience as a counselor was so enjoyable, I didn’t think about e-mails, text messages, work plans or projects all week.  Although I was technically working 24 hours a day, it didn’t feel much like “work” at all.  This is mostly owed to all of the co-directors who did months of planning so that things would run smoothly.  Because I was so busy, I didn’t take a single picture, but we had three fantastic photographers running around, taking snaps of nearly every moment.   
    I worked with my ever-awesome counterpart Immaculate as my co-counselor.  It was great to work with her--she phrased things in a way that the girls really took the information to heart.  Also, she led some great discussions in small groups, bringing up cultural contexts, which to apply new knowledge, that I hadn’t thought about.  It was so meaningful to have a strong, well-spoken, female, Ugandan counselor (and role model) because it’s who these girls can really relate to.  When they hear me talk, at the back of their minds they’re thinking, “Yeah but you’re American.  You grew up in America where the culture is different and where you’ve had different opportunities in which to succeed.”  When Immy spoke with them, I hope they were thinking more of, “Wow, she’s really great!  She’s unlike other Ugandan women we know.  She’s self-confident, kind, active and caring.  She’s made it in our school system, in a Ugandan culture and continues to achieve her goals.  She can do it, so--so can I!”  At the end of the week, this was somewhat confirmed when Jacinta said, “You two are like no other women I’ve ever met.  The way you talk to us and treat us...I’m really going to miss you (both).”  I almost cried.  
    We had ten girls in our group, all fantastic young ladies.  Three of our girls came from a school for the blind in Soroti.  They were upbeat and smiling all week, which kept me smiling.  Ketty, with partial vision but a very full vocabulary, represented the ladies during a play, which was presented at Camp BUILD.  The Rafiki theatre group travels around Uganda and puts on plays depicting several situations that are very real in the homes of many of these kids-- domestic violence.  At one point, one of the presenters asked the ladies what they would do in a certain situation of a married woman who was being abused--what would they say to that man?  Our Ketty got up there and very deliberately told the actor her mind--with much support and applause from all of the ladies at Camp GLOW.  
    Doreen also came from Soroti, and is completely visually impaired, but fully able in every other way.  She was a hoot all week, and kept the whole group laughing.  On movie night, some counselors kept asking the group, “Can you see? Can everyone see?” and she was just having a fit laughing.  As probably one of the best listeners in our group, I noticed that she’s good at memorizing things quickly.  We played a game called “Big Booty,” which is somewhat like “Concentration,” the hand-clapping game.  In this game, you have to respond to your number in a beat, and if you’re off beat, the group shifts numbers and you move to the end.  Every time we played this game, she never once missed the beat, always responding in time.  I was also impressed by her insight on things--I got to hear a lot of what she had to say when I stepped in as her scribe for the week.  At school she writes with a braille typewriter, but until a mobile braille typewriter is created, she can’t really write on the go.  I’m hoping that she took all of her notes, recorded by me, back to school where she could transcribe them into braille.  Working with her this week showed me that your attitude towards life really determines the outcome of your experience.  Doreen went into everything with a great attitude, and I think she got a lot of positive experiences out of it.  I will remember this, and check my attitude before embarking on my future projects.  Or even entering the classroom.  I don’t want to speak for Immaculate, but from what I saw, I think she learned a lot both working as a counselor and working with the girls with visual impairments.  
    All of our girls were great in their own way.  We had Oliva, a P6 student, whom I discovered on the first day is a champion day dreamer and an overall space cadet.  It became the running joke that when we were collecting to move as a group, that we had to check specifically for Oliva.  It was in good fun though, and she would laugh along with us.  Imagine my surprise when, during our much needed tutorial kickball game, it was Oliva who caught a ball and knew in a split second to throw it to home base to get out the other team’s runner.  I was so impressed and proud!  Her daydreaming isn’t all that bad--what would life be without the dreamers? 
    Out most outspoken girl was Jacinta.  She was never afraid to give an answer or opinion.  Later in the week, at lunch, Immy was asking the girls something about sharing ideas, being open with their fathers.  It was revealed then that Jacinta’s father had left, and she lives alone with her mother.  I believe that may be a reason why she wasn’t afraid to stand up because she comes from  a house where women make all the decisions.  I see her as being resilient, and growing positively from maybe non-ideal situations. 
    I can’t wait to do Camp GLOW again next year, and meet another batch of Uganda’s young ladies! 

Why Can't We Be Friends?

Think about this for a second.  How do you make friends? 

I had to think about this the other day while turning down, yet another, proposition for a friendship.  I know I sound pretty mean, but it’ll all make sense in a moment. 

Here’s what I’ve narrowed making friendships down to:  a shared experience, friends in common, common interests thus leading to a good conversation, or close proximity/frequent encounters.  Have I covered all the bases?  I hope so.  Here’s a somewhat common exchange with me in Uganda:

“Good afternoon,” an older Ugandan man on a taxi says to me.
“Good afternoon,” I reply.
“Well done,” the Ugandan says, thanking me for my work, (a habit influenced by the mother tongue).
“Ah, thank you, you too,” I reply. 
“So, you are from which country?” He begins, with a long string of predictable, and on my end, well rehearsed questions.
“America.”
“Ah, how is Obama?”

...and so it goes...and after some time, we arrive at this point--
“So I would like to be your friend.  Can I get your contact?” 
At which point I’d really like to say, “Why, so you can call me at 1 AM when your phone calls are free and ask me 100 questions about how to get to America/how to get a sponsor/how to marry a mzungu?  In reality, ssebo, we have nothing in common enough to talk about, so no you cannot have my contact.”  But that would be kind of harsh.  Instead I just make jokes and avoid giving them my number until I get out of the situation. 

My question to people everywhere is, is this a natural way of making friends?  You strike up a conversation with a complete stranger, make small talk and then state that you would like to be their friend.  Personally, I can’t think of any friend I’ve made by stating that I would like to be their friend--it just happens.  What I’m really wondering is, do Ugandans make friends this way, or is it because I’m the mzungu?  I’m almost positive I know the answer to this, but I still feel bad when I turn people down for friendship.  It just sounds mean.

THE MOST EXCITING BLOG POST EVARRRRRR

Due to a shortage of exciting material, I’m going to take my everyday life and hype it up to see what happens. 

SO I’M STILL TEACHING!

Although my second-year students are getting restless and thoroughly irritated with me, as they want to do nothing but review for three weeks for their final exams, I continue to drive through my last topic, drugs and medicine.  I try to make my lessons fun, but it seems that when I do that, the students don’t take me as seriously, even when I’m still teaching a lot of new information.  I won’t give up though, I continue to do REALLY EXCITING, STUDENT-CENTERED LESSONS! WOOT!  For example, to wrap up drugs and medicine, we talked about alcohol--particularly alcohol in Uganda.  Here are some quick facts I got from a report available from the yeahuganda.org website:

“Worldwide, adults (age 15 years and older) consume on average 5 liters of pure alcohol from beer, wine and spirits each year. For the Africa region, the adult (15 years and older) consumption of alcohol is about 4 liters of pure alcohol each year. The WHO Global Status Report on Alcohol released in 2004 showed that in Uganda, 19.47 liters of pure alcohol are consumed per capita each year.”

19.47 liters...I just went ahead and rounded that up to 20.  To open this lesson, I flooded them with stats from this one report, and then showed them, through the use of colored water and liter-sized water bottles, how much 20 liters really is.  (In hindsight, I could have just brought in a jerrycan...)  I think it was informative to the students, and somehow eye-opening.  I then had them do a skit of someone getting progressively more drunk at a party, and how the drinker acts according to his increasing BAC level.

One question that arose from class was, “How is it that Uganda has such a high alcohol consumption rate, yet there is also a high poverty rate?”  As in--how can Ugandans afford to drink that much?  Great question--the answer?  Mwenge bigere/Tonto/Malwa/Kwete/Waragi...also known as the home brew.  “Informally produced alcohol make up about 80% of alcohol drunk in Uganda today.”

MID-BLOG ENERGIZER:

What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?

BACK TO ME

I'm hoping that the class was effective in opening students eyes to the drinking situation in Uganda, and I left them with something to reflect upon as what their role as educators is in influencing their future students positively.  Next week I will bend down and bow to the evil monster that is standardized exams, and begin doing some serious review with them.


I READ SOMETIMES!

I finished Crazy for the Storm by Norman Ollestad.  I love any true survivor stories--it was a good one.  I lent it to a Ugandan tutor at the college, who said he enjoyed it.  (Truthfully, I hardly believe he understood any good portion of it, especially when Ollestad narrated in surfer and skiier lingo--I didn’t even understand those parts.  Additionally, it’s laced with American cultural references, of which I’m certain he wouldn’t grasp).  I am now reading The Book Thief, which I’m loving.  I clearly do not read as much as my fellow PCVs.  Perhaps that’s next month’s goal.

I ALSO WATCH THINGS ON MY COMPUTER! 

I started and finished the whole of Friday Night Lights.  I want to thank the good people at Owen Falls Dam for giving me a solid week of power.  I at the same time want to apologize to the students at college who were hoping that I would open the library at night that week (it was raining...kinda...) 

I HANG OUT IN JINJA TOWN!

I think that some shopkeepers think that I live there, actually.  I celebrated Halloween with other PCVs at the NRE (Nile River Explorers) and it was a blast!  It was a very American event.  The following day I didn’t have much energy to do my wash...which really disorganised me.  I explained this to my counterparts Nora and Immy, and they INSISTED on coming over and helping me do my wash that Monday afternoon.  Not only that, they pretty much cleaned my whole house.  I consider myself the luckiest in terms of workmates.  They probably won’t read this but THANKS GUYS! :D 

MY LIFE IS SUPER EXCITING!  UGANDA!


This blog was brought to you by the letter M.
Hint, hint.

My life in pictures

My dinner one night. 

Immaculate in the computer lab

My neighbors, L-R, Shakira, Shamila, Rebecca and Sara

Tutors taking tea in the staff room on a Monday morning

Our calf on campus, she's about a week old. 

One of the Year II students, Waiswa, feeding the calf.

How do you find Uganda?

When I think of Uganda, with my experience so far, I think of these....


...sounds:

...roosters crowing at five in the morning
...sandals dragging on dusty floors
...dungeon doors opening and closing
...goats crying when left in the rain
...mothers everywhere warning their children, “Iwe, muna!”
...taxi conductors shouting, “Kampalakampalakampala!” or “Wanyange/Wairaka! Wanyange/Wairaka eyo!”
...greetings spoken between adults as if they’re reciting the alphabet
...laughter of my fellow tutors in the staff room every morning, especially Mr. Oketch with his full mouth smile
...children chanting “Ma-wy! Ma-wy!”
...cows
...Ugandan upbeat music.
... “Saawale, saawa saawa saawale!”
...drums
...children laughing, yelling, playing, chorus-answering


...smells:

...posho and beans for lunch
...fresh air
...tea
...unidentified putrid clouds coming usually from latrines or random places in town
...burning leaves/garbage
...roasting chicken
...matooke

...sights:

...a man bicycling with four bunches of matooke
...a man bicycling with twenty or so chickens strapped to the bike
...a taxi with people who surely cannot be comfortable, with the “boot” tied down, holding four or five full rice sacks
...children running barefoot in blue/purple/yellow/pink/green/turquoise/lavender/red/white/black uniforms
...women with babies strapped to their backs, while cooking/digging/walking/conversing/traveling
...chickens running through school assemblies/the staff room/class/workshops/shops
...smart clothes no matter what
...people walking with mattresses/pots/saucepans/bags/rice sacks/jerrycans/books/boxes/baskets on their heads
...my neighbor children, Shakira, Precious, Shafiki and Shamila, playing on the veranda
...my neighbor Sara, always working on something (nine months pregnant and still digging in the garden)
...Mzungu gatherings in Jinja town
...an army of boda drivers, asking, “Yes, we go?”
...people lined up at the tap, bright yellow jerrycans
...Obama everywhere
...dirt paths

...flavors:

...the relieving taste of water after a long day of teaching
...an ice cream milkshake, just after a long day period
...bland-tasting posho mixed with flavorful beans
...chopped matooke with beef and gravy
...roasted chicken
...morning coffee

...feelings:

...the refreshing sensation of bucket bathing at the end of the day when it feels like every inch of myself is covered in dirt
...being squished maximumly to fit in the smallest, chargeable space in a taxi
...coming back to a place where everyone knows my name
...going to work in the morning with fans chanting me on (Ma-wy! Ma-wy!)
...exiting a public transport vehicle, much like being born again, after a long trip
...cold, concrete floor in the morning
...the complete discomfort of jeans on a hot, African hot, day
...straw mats
...fully submersing myself in water for the first time in months, at the swimming pool
...bleeding fingers after a large load of wash
...the squishy seat of a bicycle boda

Testing,...testing

There's nothing more irritating than videos that do not work.  Let's try this instead:

A video of me walking to school. 

Aubrey teaches self-defense

A super cute lesson--Okwandula (Marriage introduction ceremony)

School practice, games and songs

Scouts!

    At the end of last term, the Patron Tutor and I met with the Scouts to discuss things they wanted to learn.  From the list they generated, I thought of resources I could tap into to support the Scouts.  Last weekend I had invited my fellow PCV Elizabeth to teach some basic marching steps, and yesterday I invited PCV Aubrey to come teach the Scouts self-defense.  They had a great time!  Next Saturday, October 8th, we're planning on doing some baking.


 

There have been some requests for more of me walking through my "village," (again, I don't live so much in a village).  Below is a video of Aubrey and I walking to my school.  Thank you Aubrey for your camera work!  And a big thanks to both guest teachers--the Scouts are having a great time! 

School Practice-iiii!!!!!

These past two weeks have been BUSYYYYY!  It's school practice time, which is essentially a final exam for our second year students.  Everyday I've been going to a different school in the area to supervise as many students as I can.  Each of our 192 Second Year students have to be supervised 5 times each--that's 960 supervisions, minimum.  As busy as it is, it's been super fun.  I've been trying to capture fun activities and rich learning environments.  In these pictures, my students are dressed in brown, or white (for PE).  Everything you see decorating the classrooms was made by our students--everything.  At most of the schools these students walked into, they found four walls (sometimes three) and a floor (sometimes dirt), and they had to make a real classroom out of it.  I'm sure you all will appreciate the students' hard work as much as I do.  :D 

The first video above is what's called "Free Activity," where students have a guided play time in which they discover things about the theme they're learning about.  In this particular theme, culture and customs (or something like that), these students were acting out an introduction ceremony.  You can see the bride, seated, with her aunties.  The children singing are part of the DJ's music, and the groom's side of the family. 
The second video was today when I was supposed to somehow supervise four PE lessons all at once--that didn't happen...the activity happening directly in front of me was a relay race where students had to fill their mouths with water, then run to the center where there was an empty bottle, and spit the water into the bottle to fill it. 

This picture  has nothing to do with student teaching--check out that giant bee!
He was carrying it around on that stick like a dog on a leash...

Kiri OK!

    I woke up at three AM one morning without explanation.  I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned--no idea what woke me up.  My neighbor’s newborn baby, Shamila, wasn’t even making a peep (which was a rare occurrence--she cries every waking moment unless Sarah is holding her).  I remember finally drifting back to sleep, thinking to myself that the gnawing sound must be the termites in my shelves.  My alarm, next to my ear, gently coaxed me out of slumber at 6:50--EE EEE EEEEEEEEE.  I hit snooze about three times until 7:30, when I finally decided that I should probably be somehow on time that day. 

    Walking much like Frankenstein, I make it to my kitchen (AKA my only other room) and put my kettle on to boil.  When the metal of the kettle and the stove met, it made a loud CLINK--which scared the glasses-case sized, brown, fat mouse.  He took off running, leaped off of my stove table and scared the bejeezus out of me.  Naturally, I screamed, did a funny dance and ran outside to tell Sarah.  I didn’t see where he ran to, so as I got ready that morning, I crept around, wary of every little nook and cranny, or pile of clothes, in fear that the brown, possibly rabid, rodent was going to attack my feet.  Remnants of his presence littered my duuka, much like debris after a tropical storm; a chewed tomato, g-nut shells, mouse poop...all from one night? 
    I told my staff that day about my new roommate, which elicited a lot of different, unique solutions to my problem.  Poisonous tablets, rat glue, poison on toast, a trap, or even let him stay...I really didn’t like that last suggestion... After work that day, I reached home and began chatting with Andrew, my neighbor, like usual.  He was telling me about school and whatnot, and of course I told him about my mouse problem.  While discussing possible solutions, I put some water on to boil again and SURPRISE!  A brown furball scurried right by my feet and into my bedroom.  I grabbed one of my heels and ran outside.  Andrew ran to get a stick while I just whined like a goat in the rain.  He came back and went right to business, poking everything in my house to see if it would retaliate.  The poking method worked--he narrowed it down to the corner of my room with some paper charts.  Squeezing it to death didn’t work--the critter was pretty chunky.  Whenever it ran past my feet I just screamed and pointed, and Andrew would run after it.  It tried to make an escape through a window, but instead just scaled the mosquito screen.  It was then I understood the full girth of the beast, as i saw it outlined on the curtain.  The next minute was a blur of screaming and Andrew hitting everything with a stick--then the mpube finally ran out.  Hurrah!        

    If you can believe it, that wasn’t the most exciting animal encounter in my life as of late--the following day, a monkey was wandering around the PTC.  I was told that monkeys live up the hill from me, but they’re starting to travel down in search of food.  Immy and I tried our level best to lure it near with food--it didn’t see us, and took off to a neighboring house.  We then imagined what that family must have thought when they saw a monkey come into their compound. 

    On the work front, it’s probably the most exciting part of my job--supervising!  I now travel to area schools and supervise my preservice teachers’ lessons.  My heart really goes out to them--during my student teaching experience, we had 20 weeks to figure everything out, and we weren’t supervised until at least the third week.  These students have four weeks, and they get supervised starting on the second day.  However, it seems that they love to be supervised and get feedback.  Everyone is asking, “Madam, when are you coming to see me there?”  Another challenge they are facing is that the college cannot afford to send students to far schools, so all 190 Year II students can only use the 9 primary schools nearby.  Because of that, there are as many as three student teachers in one classroom.  The students are working with it well, though, and I think it helps sometimes for them to share ideas and work as a team.  I’ve so far enjoyed a lot of the lessons I’ve seen.  It’s interesting to see students who never talk in class get up in front of 75 P4 students and teach a really creative lesson with great confidence and ease.   
    Also somehow on the work front, I’ve been continuing with facilitating the Scouts.  Last Saturday I collected about five--which was enough, I decided, to have an official meeting.  We worked on building a campfire.  You may be thinking, bana--these people know how to build a cooking fire.  They sure do, but the suggested fire structure from the internation Scouting handbook is not a three-stone fire.  Once our fire was blazing, we sat around and sang songs...in the middle of the day...next to construction workers.  I felt pretty silly, but it seemed that the Scouts didn’t mind one bit.  The week prior, we discussed First Aid, and practiced steps one takes when approaching a casualty.  The first meeting attracted maybe eight members, the second meeting five....to encourage attendance next week, I put up an advertisement in the Year One hall....I’m crossing my fingers that it helps.   
    That’s all worth mentioning from Wanyange.  Hoping that these next weeks hold some blog-worthy events.  

Medi, ready to dig.  I live near some of the cutest
kids in the world....

Musa, Behna and Tagaba in the garden

My overly enthusiastic Scouts, sitting by the
campfire. 

My neighbor Andrew with my other neighbor's baby
Shamila. 

Shakira and I.  Shakira doesn't photograph well...just believe me
she's adorable. 

 

One of my students' classes--P2

You are what? You are lost.

     My dear readers....I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve been lost.  This is what most of my village tells me, “you are lost these days.”  Yes, I explain, I’ve been training in Kampala for these past three weeks.  One quick note on the area that I call my village--when we refer to volunteers here that are wayyyyy out there, away from creature comforts and ice cream joints, tarmacked roads or really even a trading center (re: a place to buy food), we say they are in the VILLAGE (emphasis on the word village).  For that reason, I feel it’s wrong that I keep referring to my site, 15 minutes away from Jinja (the most mzungu-filled town next to Kampala) as a village.  Is there a better word, though?  I can’t think of one.  I’m back in Wanyange, anyway.

    So, Mary, what ripped you away from your internet addiction for a whole month?  It started with in-Service Training, then a four day vacay, then the All-Volunteer Conference.  In-Service Training’s purpose was to get our group of 44 volunteers (we’re all still here!) back together to polish our language, train with our counterparts on life skills and reflect on our experience so far.  The language training was somewhat unstructured, which was OK--I took advantage of the teacher and had some one-on-one lessons.  The following week our counterparts arrived, and we did some fun life skills activities, as well as discussed how to cooperatively develop projects and plan accordingly.  Immy and I thought of a project that costs virtually no money...more on that if it actually comes to fruition.
 

    Following IST, we had a four day do-whatever.  Our volunteers coming from the north, the far west and the far east weren’t expected to go back to site, so a rafting trip had been planned.  I decided to not participate for the monetary reason and possible health risks (blame it on me watching too much House--I could imagine the whole episode, me suffering and probably vomiting blood, the team stressed out and doing tests after tests, one of them suggesting sarcoidosis, and House’s random solution triggered by Wilson talking about golfing destinations...)  And, lucky me, I’m only a two hour trip from Kampala, so I just went back home and did laundry on Sunday.
    Sunday afternoon was the much anticipated Booze-cruise.  It was pretty epic.
    On Monday, some friends whose sites are in the North came to Jinja and stayed over (in my two-room duuka) and it was SO MUCH FUN!  I still don’t know what is being said about me having two males spend the night, but whatever they’re saying, it was worth it.  The Jinja market was first on our agenda before hitting up some supermarkets for our dinner feast.  We made some fantastic pasta with pesto sauce, and garlic bread! 

Shopping in the Jinja market.

 
On Ilse: Second-hand dress, cotton, probably from England.

Wee! Preparing dinner.

We're ready to eat!

    Earlier that day, while giving them a tour of my (village?!) we passed a goat giving birth!  The kid, the size of a small cat, was glistening in the afternoon sun, still goopy from its recent introduction to the world.  It was instinctively looking for milk, and the mother was chewing off its umbilical cord.  We were all stunned, and I’m pretty sure it was everyone’s first time witnessing an animal birth.  However, on our way back from my PTC, an old woman, next to the goat (pushing out kid number three) was there.
    “Mugye! Mugye!”
    “Oh, uh, Oliotya!” My guests said, waving.  (It means hello)
    “Mugye!  Muvaayo!”
    “Oh jeez, keep moving, she wants us to get away...” I explained.  Instantly I thought it was a cultural mishap--perhaps it’s rude to watch other people’s animals giving birth?!  The old woman gave me a quick ‘webele’ for translating correctly.
    A bit flustered and confused, I asked around.  I got the same answer from three different women, “no, there’s nothing wrong with watching animals give birth.”  Whatever the case was, I guess I wouldn’t want anyone freaking out my animals while giving birth.
    Tuesday was our travel day to the Ridar hotel in Seeta, which to me is like paradise.  Pool, bar, rooms with bathrooms inside (WITH HAIRDRYERS, and hot showers).  It was awesome.  The All-Volunteer Conference is where all (nearly) 200 volunteers in country come together and share projects, ideas, strategies and, of course, books.  Events like this are great because I don’t otherwise see the volunteers from other groups.  One of my favorite sessions was from Raising Voices, a group committed to ending violence against children and women in Uganda.  I know that if I try to pursue a project like this with changed behavior of practicing teachers, I’ll get frustrated and give up.  I know the attitudes of current teachers and professionals here, and it will take a lot of intervention and monitoring, not to mention changing of attitudes.  Instead of doing that, I’m going to just start the conversations in my classroom at the PTC with future teachers--those who haven’t been stressed out and beaten down by the system yet, and have yet to develop their teaching philosophy.  I’ve set a small goal for myself, and that is just to have conversations (guided by materials from Raising Voices) in the classroom.  We’ll see how it goes. 
    And now I’m back home, back to work, back to village life.  I put on perhaps ten pounds in the three weeks I was gone?  Well done, Mary.  It was all that damn tea time, with those delicious and seemingly endless snacks...

A Walk to the Trading Center

 

This is a walk from my house towards the trading center.  

"So I heard that..." Stories from my Ugandan sex-ed class

     Term II is quickly coming to a close, and I had saved the best topic for last--reproductive health!  However, I took all of the reproduction out of the topic, and rather talked about reproduction avoidance.  :D  I'm almost certain that my students know more about fertilization, pregnancy and birth than I do, especially with the birth rate in Uganda ((48.15 births/1,000 population (2008 estimate) as compared to that of America (13.5 births/1,000 population (2010 est.)) (Wikipedia).  Additionally, I wanted to focus more on pregnancy avoidance in response to a recent article I read in the New Vision during World Population Day.  (Being that it was New Vision, I'm not sure if any of it is true, but...)  This article, entitled "Over half of Uganda's births are not planned," states, "The proportion of Ugandan births that were unplanned rose from 29% in 1995 to 38% in 2000/2001."  Again, not sure how they got their numbers.  Did they do a survey of women who had just given birth, "say, did you plan this one?"  The article mentions that the average children to women is seven, which is the highest fertility rate in Africa and the third highest in the world.  One point that the article made is definitely true, which is, "...many Ugandan women are hesitant to use contraceptive due to lack of accurate information about the safety of the available methods.  A third of all Ugandan women of reproductive age want to stop or delay further childbearing but are not using modern contraceptive methods."
     A few questions/concerns raised during class...
     "I heard family planning pills make you barren."
     "My aunt used family planning pills and now she only has disabled children."
     "I heard that you bleed a lot when you use the pill."
     "Family planning pills lead to genetic alterations."
     
      We discussed how the pills actually work in the body, and the true risks involved with each form of birth control.  However, even after explicitly explaining facts and myths, women still left thinking that the pills make you barren.  (sigh) 
     
      My lecture started with diagrams, looking at each part of the reproductive system, then it was supposed to go into STDs and finally contraceptives.  It didn't go exactly in that order, and we didn't go deeply into STDs... but no worries!  Important things were learned!  Did you know that semen travels, on average, at a speed of 28 mph?  When asked the question, "I heard that if you play sex standing up, you don't get pregnant.  Is it true?"  I referred to the that statistic to back up my point, as in, it's going to get where it's going...

      Other things students asked/commented-
      "I heard that the more you have sex, the bigger your penis grows."
      "If you have sex with a woman menstruating, you get gonorrhea."
      "What causes masturbation?"
      "Women masturbate?  How?"
      "Why don't penises burn?"

      (A note on that last bit-- students were convinced that penises do not burn.  As in, if you were to burn a human male, his penis would remain, uncharred.  I can't figure out the root of this myth, but students were saying "We burnt two thieves in the village, and their penises remained!"  If you can help me find the root of this myth, I would greatly appreciate it.) 

      Now, I don't want to paint Ugandans as completely ignorant when it comes to sexual-related topics.  There were several questions and comments that were truthful and relevant.  One girl asked about the relation between birth control pills and cancer, a correlation which is currently being studied.  Additionally, the students could tell me each part of the reproductive system, and I'm certain that they all knew what the act involves.  It just seems that misconceptions spread like wildfire, especially in relation to western medicines.

      I ended the two-hour lecture with a hands-on activity--practicing the proper way using a condom.  Because the students immediately tried to stash condoms for later use, I had to patrol each participant, watching them check the wrapper properly and then open it in front of me.  I had to say more than once, "No, I do not have enough materials for independent study..."

Me, waving around an eggplant with a condom on it.  (I realized
in my last post that I mentioned eggplants for condom demonstrations
without explaining that the eggplants here are much smaller.  I
can only imagine what you all must have thought...)

Teamwork!

Sometimes you just need a little help from a friend...

Notice my face.  The student, front right, just offered to give his own
demonstration...jokester...

    
     
      

State Fair? No, but pretty darn close!

      Yesterday was the second to last day of the week-long Jinja Agricultural Fair/show.  The plan was to go the day with my counterpart, and tour around during the day.  After meeting up in town, we joined one of the many long lines to get in.  This was serious--metal detectors, bag checkers, full-uniformed soldiers...did the show always have this high of security, I wonder?  After moving through the single-file line (which was almost orderly, I was quite impressed) and getting the too-personal pat-down, the woman checking my bag pulled out my contraband.
     "Ah, you can't have a camera.  We do not allow them today."  WHAT?!  Why, was all I was thinking, and where was the sign for that?  The guard directed us towards a man in a short-sleeved, checkered, blue button up.  That's odd, I thought, he doesn't look like he has any authority.
     "You need to take your camera out," he explained.
     "Now, where are we going to take this?  We don't live around here?"  My counterpart argued.
     "Sorry, I can't do anything for you, if I had held onto all of the cameras that have come through here today, I'd have," and he made a gesture showing that he'd be holding a lot.  "You can store it at the police station in town.  No cameras today, the president is coming."
      Oooooooooooohhhhhh.  When I heard that, my first thought was, yeah right.  Little did I know, the undercover man  I was speaking with one of the President's security officers. 
      We felt defeated.  We weren't about to walk back to town, so we did the next best thing and persuaded a traffic officer to hold onto my camera.  "Ok, I'll see you in two hours," he said at 11:00 AM.
      We thanked him profusely, and then cut the line to get back in.  Multi-colored tents, flags, stands, stages and banners were everywhere, advertising things like "Movit" "Herbal Medicine" "Airtel" "Orange," and then some actual agriculture related things.  School groups were moving together in clusters, recognizable by their uniforms.  Even in the 80 degree weather, guys and gals alike were wearing sweater vests, long-sleeved button-ups, trousers for the gents and knee-lengthed skirts for the ladies, tube socks and dress shoes.  I was sweating just looking at them.  I suspect that several young gentlemen were changing out of their uniform mid-day, because about 100 Kid Cudi look-alikes were walking around.  Music was coming from all directions, booming at maximum volume out of oversize stage speakers.  We ate our first chicken meal of the day (we ate chicken all day, about five times total).  Over brunch, we discussed my upcoming lesson next week.  Reproductive health, family planning and STD prevention.  My CP had been helping me think of ways to get free condoms for teaching purposes.  My aim is to present a condom demonstration, and the students will be able to try it themselves (using a toilet paper tube).  For this reason, I needed like, a LOT of condoms.  So far, we hadn't had any luck, and we missed our chance to check out the Family Planning Resource Center in Jinja.  Luckily, we came upon the TASO tent.
     The AIDS Support Organization (TASO) works in several areas in Uganda, delivering treatment services (home based, outreach clinics, day care), sensitizing families of HIV+ patients and the community, offering free testing, educating school groups, carrying out research and so much more!  It's a really fantastic group working to battle the HIV/AIDs rate in Uganda.  Read more about them here.  The people working at the tent were happy to see and talk to us.  For some reason, I didn't know where to begin asking the nice people for as many free condoms as they could give me.  Luckily, my CP was there, and in the very non-direct, roundabout Ugandan way of getting to the point, she smoothly transitioned to asking for as many free teaching materials they could afford to part with.
      "Oh, yeah we can give you a whole box!"  A man reached behind the table clothed display table and handed me an inconspicuous box of 100, which fit perfectly in my purse.  Mission accomplished!  At that point, it was the highlight of my day.
       We moved around, looking at different types of corn (one type engineered to be drought-resistant), tomatoes, onions, rice, fish, nuts, and greens that are being grown in Uganda.  At an impressive display of eggplants, my CP suggested that perhaps that would be better to use than toilet paper tubes, as it's more life-like.  Ah, perhaps, but do I really want to buy 50 eggplants?!  We then moved through the prison exhibit to see the projects that prisoners work on during their time.  They do poultry farming, vegetable farming, or carpentry (depending on their interest).  The furniture on display was beautiful, and magnificently crafted!  However, the price was reflective of the quality, and so my CP and I just tried out a few comfortable chairs, and moved on.  My CP pointed out that the booming music had ceased.  I didn't even notice.
       "His excellency must be here," she concluded.
       Two popsicles and bottles of water later, we met up with another tutor from school who was the chaperone (ish) for our students.  They're adult students, so the tutor let them loose.  We joined him at the table where he was eating matooke, rice and envuluga under a tent, watching the people ride the spinning swings.  We three tutors had a lot to talk about--Mbarara, end of term exams, the students today, and an unfortunate incident with counterfeit money. 
      Just behind us, about 100 feet from where we were sitting, in a brick gazebo-type building, a crowd was collecting....and then we saw the hat.  WHOA.  First thought?  Too bad I don't have my camera!  Second thought?  That guy looks familiar....same blue-checkered shirt guy from the front gate was watching the perimeter.  It was bizarre, sitting there staring at the president so closely.  I believe for the 5 minute photo shoot, no one in that food tent moved or said much of anything.  We just kind of stared.  New highlight of the day.
        From there, we saw the animal exhibit.  I saw my first Crested Crane!  (Still didn't have my camera with me). The exhibit exited to a bluff overlooking the source of the Nile.  Clusters of uniform-clad students relaxed in the shade, watching the water that powers the Owen Falls Dam.  
         More tutors from college found us, and from afternoon to late late evening, it was a blur of chicken, music, dancing and all together a great time.  I'm gaining strength, as I write this, to start my laundry....mpola mpola. 
        I did get my camera back.  At about 4:04 PM, I found the traffic officer in the same spot. 
        "You said two hours," was the first thing he said to me.  I have yet to find a Ugandan in Jinja who operates on 'Ugandan time.'  It was all kale, though, no worries! 
        Tune in next week for updates on my sex-ed class.            
             

Immaculate!

Me and Immacualte (Ugandans generally don't smile in pictures)

Some of the students and I after the debate club (this was the first day I
wore pants to school)

Assembly

Typical day for the neighboring primary school at recess. 
Note the cow.  Jus' chillin.

GROUP WORK! 

Practicing for the upcoming athletics event.  Most were running
barefoot. 

Today is a good day

     I've had a kind of fantastic day.  There was nothing out of the ordinary, I didn't find a lost shilling note on the side of the road or come across a hoard of chocolates I had forgotten about, but everything that did today went just swimmingly.  I managed to find the Year Twos free so I could teach each of the two streams.  Not only was it an informative lesson (on emphysema and tuberculosis), but it was entertaining.  I tend to get kind of note-heavy, so to break it up, I like to have the class do energizers.  In one stream we spelled the word "EMPHYSEMA" with our whole body, while in the other stream we spelled "TUBERCULOSIS."  It was quite funny.  These diseases are part of their study of the respiratory system.  I'm feeling, finally, like I'm teaching something new, exciting and beneficial to these students.  Since they read so much on their own, and they've studied about the different body systems in O level, learning about the different diseases and how they affect their bodies is a great way to use their knowledge in context.  I also find that when I include rough statistics about how prevalent these diseases are in Uganda, how many people contract the disease or die from it each day/month/year, or how they rank in infection in comparison to the world, it is most interesting, and keeps students engaged. Although Tuberculosis is not caused by smoking, (as many of the students had previously thought), smoking can exacerbate a TB infection (http://www.ctsu.ox.ac.uk/projects/indiatb) and (http://www.searo.who.int/en/Section10/Section2097/Section2106_10682.htm).  Emphysema is, primarily, caused by smoking.  For this reason, we ended the class with doing a skit on how to say 'no' to peer pressure (saying no to cigarettes while keeping your cool).  This was also hilarious, and I felt like the lesson overall was effective, even though I didn't do my daily 1/2 sheet exit slip assessment. 
     After those two lessons, I hadn't had anything else planned for the day, but Mr. Oketch, an SST tutor, and I met our personal tutor students (the ones we are in charge of guiding and counseling).  That was somewhat entertaining, "Ladies, if you have a problem, go see Madam Mary."  I guess my duties in guidance and counseling these students also include doing a personal report on each one (or, at least, the ladies). 
     Following that brief meeting, I headed down to the library to lesson plan a bit.  Perhaps an hour passed before a Year One student requested to come in and check out some books.  I inquired if there was a tutor in class, which indeed there wasn't.  Huzzah!  I explained that the library would be open in the evening, but at that moment, I would take Stream J into the reading room so they could finish their projects.  The students are working in cooperative learning groups, researching specific subjects (as delegated by me) with the goals of 1) presenting the necessary material to the rest of the class and 2) Being as creative as possible to involve their colleagues in the presentation.  This was fantastic, because Stream P had finished preparing the day before, I and I was unsure when I'd find another open slot for J to complete before presentation day, this Friday.  Additionally, being at the end of the day, I didn't have to interrupt them and kick them out after an hour.  I'm on a high of how productive and fulfilling my day was.  The only road bump arrived just recently; the power in Wanyange is out (I'm typing this by gaslight...and the light from the screen....) meaning that the college as well doesn't have power, and the students don't have enough flashlights to make opening the library now worthwhile. 
     And now I'll use the last bit of my laptop battery to do some idle surfing before I read by candlelight and call it a night.  This is my life in Uganda.

I've taken long without posting...

   I guess I want to say that there's no news, but I'm in Uganda, so everything is newsworthy somehow, right?  I had been frustrated lately, teaching, because everything that I had planned in Health Science (following the curriculum guide given to me by the head of department) was apparently old news to the students.  In fact, the book that I was following to guide my lesson planning is available in the library for the students to read.  And so, everything that I've been given to teach (by the head of department who reassured me over and over again that the students do not know the information) the students already know.  Old news.  My previous plan was to discover the parts of each body system in depth and discuss how it works within itself and in conjunction with other body systems.  However, each lesson was putting the students to sleep, and when I had some students come up and re-iterate what they learned, they would add in even more knowledge that I didn't even know about.  At the end of that week, during my jarring realization, I was defeated, and I whined to anyone at the college who would bother to listen to me. 
Some advice was,
"Don't let them ask questions that are off topic.  Come and teach what was planned."  But the questions are good? 
"It's okay if they've already read the module, then they know what you're talking about." But then what am I teaching?
"It may seem like they know the material already, but they don't." Really?  My pre-tests indicate that yes, they already do know the parts and functions of the circulatory system.
Still feeling defeated, I talked the ear off of another science/math tutor whom the students really look up to and respect.  He pointed out that the students should also know major diseases and disorders that afflict each system.  This was great, because it was also apparent that the students had the most interest in that as well.  With that, I re-vamped my scheme and successfully taught not only about the circulatory system this week, but also discussed high blood pressure, heart attacks, stroke, coronary heart disease and diabetes.  This was great, because in the process I knew I was eliminating some misconceptions.  Additionally, I'm learning so darn much about the body, I feel like I could perhaps pursue a career in nursing.
   
     In other news, everyone wants to be my friend.  I can't put my finger on why, perhaps because of my bubbly personality?  Maybe because I cook some really great food?  Could it be because I dress so smartly?  Oh, and there's that whole mzungu part of me....
    Two days ago, a letter had been stealthily slipped under my door.  "Madam Mary," was printed in the deliberate and ever-so-careful handwriting of some pupil somewhere.  "I see you everyday but you don't see me."  "I really hope we can be pen friends."  Cute, right?  I set it aside with every intention of responding, and sticking a letter outside my door for the yet unknown kid.
    Yesterday, exhausted, dirty, and starving (I skipped lunch), I had finally arrived home and was making popcorn and tea.  There was a knock at my door.  "Good evening," I say to the random boy at my door, through the curtain, as I continue to tend to the popcorn.
     "Good eveningowareyou?"  He said, all in one breath, as many Ugandan children say. 
     "Oh I'm fine," I said.  In my peripheral vision, I could see him slip off his sandals.  I had assumed that he, like any other Ugandan child, would respect my space and not come in unless invited.  He was not like other Ugandan children.  In he walked, still talking to me.  He picked up my iron off of the blue Mukwano plastic garden chair, set it aside, and took a seat.  I was blown away.  I don't like to be blunt or demanding, especially of people I don't know, so I said nothing, but rather offered him some popcorn while I sat, as well.  To be clear, I only offered him some so as to not be rude and eat in front of him, but I remind the reader, I was starving.  And if you know me when I'm starving, especially with popcorn, I'm greedy.  So I only offered once. 
     "You got my letter," he said.
     "Oh yes, and I was going to write back, today even..." I bluffed.  There wasn't much in the letter to respond to, so it was going to be hard to write back. 
     "I see you everyday.  I really want to be friends with people like you." 
     People like me?  What, old, white people?  YOU'RE 13.
     "I'm finding it kind of odd that you want to be my friend.  You don't even know me.  Usually, when someone here wants to be my friend, they're looking for money or a ticket to the US."
     "No, I'm not like that.  I just want to be your friend."  Nothing seemed to bother this kid.  I must say though, his English was pretty good.
     "Ok.  So..."
     "So what do you do on Sundays?" he asked, interrupting me. 
     "Um, I wash clothes."
     "OK, I take you for prayers," he said, confidently, like it was a done deal. 
     "I don't pray."
     "Oh, that's OK too," again, still blown away by his arrogance and command of English, "are you going to town tomorrow?"
     "Yes, early in the morning."
     "Ok, I'll escort you," he said.
     There was no question, but rather just matter-of-factness in his propositions.  "Um, no, I can go by myself."  What the hell am I supposed to talk about with this kid? "So, you have brothers and sisters?"
      "Yes, one younger brother and a sister."
      "Ah, that's nice."
      "Actually, my younger brother is there, in America."
      ORLY?!
      "Which state is he in?" I innocently asked.  Kid reaches over and grabs a handful of popcorn.  Reminder--I only offered popcorn once.
      "I don't know.  He didn't tell me."
      "How old is he?"
      "Seven."
      "You talk to him on the phone?"  Grabs another handful of popcorn.
      "Yeah, I talked to him last Wednesday."
      "Ah, how does he like school?"
      "It's good.  He's in P4."
       He's in P4 (not fourth grade?), at the age of seven, in America?  This kid's story, and body language, were slowly indicating that he's a fantastic liar.
      "He even told me," he began, "that they bought him a house."
      "A house?" I probed.  "Some American bought a seven year old a house?"
      "That's what he said!"
      It was more than evident that this kid is lying a blue streak.  At this point he had taken my whole bowl of popcorn.  "And your family?  Who else is in your family?"
      "Well, I have my mom, but she has the Virus," he said.  And now he's trying to lay a guilt trip on me, somehow.  He began to tell a sad tale about his family.  Credible?  Not sure.  Hmmm....
      "Ok, well I have to run to the trading center here quickly to get some things," I say, setting up my escape.
      "First take tea," he said, motioning to my cup.  What a demanding little...
      "No, I'm going to go now."
      "Can I escort you?"
      "No."
      "Can I stay here?"
      "No."
      "Why not?  I am now your guest."
       ORLY?! I couldn't take it anymore.
      "I'm trying to be as polite as possible here.  I don't know you, you walked into my house uninvited, you ate my food and I'm trying to--as politely as possible--ask you to leave.  It's odd that a thirteen year old wants to be a friend of a random woman in the village, and other than my being a mzungu, I can't imagine a reason why you'd want to do that.  So, you're welcome to stop by and greet me, but other than that..." I kind of left it there.  He got the message, but first cleaned the popcorn bowl before he slipped his sandals back on to leave.   

Completely disorganized, as they say here (flustered really) I huffily went over to my neighbor Behna.  What I like about Behna is that she can bargain to obscenely low prices and she can be kind of a hard ass.  When I found her, she was carrying a newborn baby.  Funny how babies can make you soften up and forget your troubles for a bit.  She was just holding on to her while the mother was at the market.  After a while of loitering and just discussing about other things, I finally got around to my situation that had just happened.  She was just as appalled as I had been. 
   "Don't entertain children in the house.  He could be a thief."
    Ah! Ba-na, I didn't even think of that!  And so, now I'm paranoid. 
   I see you everyday, but you don't see me....  It doesn't sound so cute anymore....