This past weekend was Language Immersion week! The nine different language groups set off to their regions to either stay with a volunteer or at a hotel. Our group was lucky enough to stay with wicked-awesome Becky, one of our PCVTs. At first the idea didn’t seem as appealing as a hotel, but we quickly learned that it was welcoming, chill and so very informative of a PC service. Several groups took buses, as their trips were anywhere from 4 1/2 to 8 hours; our group, being only three hours out, took taxis both ways. I am now with-it when it comes to using taxis.
On our way there, we rode into Jinja and ate at a restaurant that offered pizza and Indian cuisine! It was my first Indian dish in Uganda, and I was so very excited! Jinja is nice, and much less congested than Kampala (the city that I have not yet fully explored, as I was sick the day of the tour). Dan noticed that we were all carrying our backpacks on the front, and mentioned in the nicest way, “Pick-pocketing here is much more rare than in Kampala,” HINT HINT--you can wear your backpacks normally. Dan was such a great guide, and seemed to either run into friends, or make friends along the way. He had us laughing all the time. After our lunch in Jinja, I finally bought a PHONE! It was over half of my weekly allowance, but I figured that since we were staying with Becky and not having to eat out every night, I would definitely save on food. From Jinja, we took a taxi to Namatumba, where Kisiki College (really a secondary school) is. The main gate is right off the tarmac, where Becky was waiting for us. We had a quick tour of the teacher guest housing, then we went out to explore the market place. We weren’t equipped just yet to go out and buy things (we hadn’t yet learned numbers in the thousands) and our dinner was in the making. While walking through town, we kept waving to children as we would in the states; however, in Uganda, if you make the opening and closing motion with your hand, palm facing out, it signals “come here.” We were puzzled as to why we had at one point (I counted, in Lusoga) 28 children following us, much like a parade. When we returned to the teacher’s house, Dan reminded us about the gesture, well after we had paraded near 30 kids through town. The whole time, we were gesturing for them to “come here!” After that, we learned to wave open-palm left and right, like washing a windshield.
The rest of the week was a mixture of activities. We had structured language lessons each morning from one of the older classrooms, then we were off to shop or relax. Our first day in the market, we were preparing for an American-Mexican spread, including salsa, guacamole and tortillas. My task was to buy rice. I tried to greet as much as I could, which would make most of the market place people just light up.
“Osiibye o’tyeo nyabo?”
“Ahhh! Bulungi! Yogera Lusoga! Ossibye o’tyeo?”
“Bulungi! Webale emiri moo.”
“Kale, weena webale.”
“Kale. Kodey’eyo?”
“Baliyo!”
Then, I attempted to find rice. I went to a seller, and asked if he had rice.
“Olina omutyere?”
He didn’t, but he pointed in a general direction. I went next door, where people were eating rice. “Olina omutyere?”
“Yes we have rice,” a man answered. He took me in and I noticed that everyone was eating rice.
“Oh, I don’t want cooked rice--do you have uncooked rice to buy?”
“Ok, we have.” I was sort of confused. I was standing in a very tiny room, in the middle of about seven adults eating rice, who were all staring at me, not knowing what to make of me.
“Musiibye mutey’eyo!” I tried.
They reacted in “ayy!”s, all very surprised, all smiles. It’s a wonder what greetings can do. I turned to find a woman holding out a bowl of cooked rice for me.
“Gah! I’m sorry, I need uncooked rice. Webale! I’m going to find uncooked rice!” I don’t know if they understood, and I hope they didn’t find me terribly rude, but I just backed on out and waved goodbye. I did find uncooked rice, and I managed to pay the going price (without getting the mzungu price).
Many of our market trips were like this, finding the items, greeting and negotiating in Lusoga. We always could get everything we need, and splitting up shopping tasks worked well.
One day, while the group was sitting around playing cards and relaxing, Becky extended an invitation that had come from the Boy Scouts. “They are inviting us to go plant trees with them.” How fun! Although I wasn’t anywhere near dressed to be a successful agriculturist, I joined on in. Most of our tree-planting experience was more of a photo shoot with the boys. They all new very well how to plant trees successfully, and looked quite handsome doing it, in their sharp uniforms! I was trying my hardest to practice Lusoga with the boys. A common question Ugandans ask is, "How are you finding Uganda?" I answered that I love it, love the weather, love the place. I then attempted to say that I sunbathe (in Lusoga) and it came out more like "I bathe in the sun," like...naked, in open air. THAT got a laugh. There is one phrase you don't say to a group of teenage boys.
On Tuesday evening, during a rousing game of Lusoga charades, Nick stopped by. Nick is a CHED volunteer in our region. We started talking with him at around 4:00, cooked with him and stayed up talking until about 11:30 PM. He was blown away, because at his very rural site, he would have been in bed for two hours at least by then. He told us about his service, other volunteers in the region, the dynamics of his volunteer group and about the towns (Iganga, Jina).
Coming back, we got to see the source of the Nile in Jinja. It's always amazing to see a natural landmark like that, and it's crazy to think that river, that starts from there, stretches through all the way to Egypt. There were several pretty crafts on the way down to the river, but none that I could afford. With my remaining bit of shillings, I managed to get some g-nuts to bring back for my family. I wished I could've brought back more!
After talking to our whole group today, it sounds like we all had similar, fun experiences. Some groups even saw elephants and hippos on the drive up! The regions all sound geographically different, which is very interesting. I can't wait to find out my site! With my improved Lusoga and bargaining skills, I'm ready for my PC service!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
One Month in Country!
Now that I have some serious internet time, I figured I'd update my blog. I'm going to paste pieces from my journal so far:
February 11th, 2011
Getting there
About 25 hours ago, 44 Peace Corps volunteers were lined up at the entrance of the JFK airport in New York. This group, my new extended family, were 2 hours too early to check in. For this reason, we looked like a group of hobos, squatting at the airport. We all found humor in this situation, but weren’t timid, as there was a large flock of us. This has since been the feeling of courage everywhere we go; if anyone approached our large group, asking what we were doing loitering, we just proudly announced that we were with the Peace Corps. This has been eliciting several responses, including, “Really?” “Wow--where to?” “Why?” “What will you be doing?” “What inspired you to go into it?” “Stay healthy!”
I’ve never felt so exhausted from a traveling experience! Our journey began on Thursday morning, at two thirty AM, when we departed from our hotel via bus. From there, we rode to JFK, where we were informed that we were far too early--the gates didn’t open until seven, and we were there and ready at four. This is when we collected ourselves and lined up along an entrance area, with all of our luggage (the average amount of luggage being one hiking backpack, one large rolling duffel and a smaller duffel as a carry on). When we were permitted to the ticket counter, we methodically worked through the line, putting the appropriate bagging tags on our luggage and receiving our two tickets--one for South Africa, and one for our final destination of Uganda. After checking our luggage, we joined the already 50 strong group of travelers for the very thorough security checkpoint. I didn’t realize that I had gotten in line with a full Nalgene of water. Whoops--I guzzled it down while in line, which my body surprisingly needed. I thought that the process would be smooth as butter, just like every other time I rode. Unfortunately, my purse set off the alarm. A young man, about my age, took me over to a table to check through my bag.
“What?” He started, looking quizzically at my purse’s contents, “why do you have so many playing cards?”
“Oh-ha, I’m in the Peace Corps, and that’s for the down time.” I say, regretting my love of board games.
Even after his thorough check, my bag still set off some kind of alarm, which, per protocol, requires me to get the new TSA intimate pat down. As this was happening, I felt completely embarrassed and alone--several PCVs walked right on by, down to the gate. My lack of a watch, or sense of time, lead me to panic, thinking I would miss my flight. Luckily, a handful of people did hang back, and we marched on to the gate, where we had another 2 hours before the plane was to board.
Flying to South Africa can be summed up by one word; LONG. The flight was 15 hours, and crossed seven time zones. Despite its length, the flight had excellent entertainment, filling and frequent meals, and amenities like eye masks and blankets. The most uncomfortable part was when my butt would be in so much pain, I had to take walks to the bathroom, just to relieve my sore tushy. My half doughnut pillow saved me, because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep any other way with my given aisle seat.
Our arrival in South Africa was a relief and an introduction to the warm weather. Even though the airport was air-conditioned, everyone was sweating. Johannesburg airport is sparkly clean, and offers a lot of great shopping; Coach, LaCoste, Out of Africa, Out of Africa Kids, and more. Again, our group set up camp in a carpeted area behind an escalator. During our layover, we changed into our Ugandan professional clothes (long skirts and modest tops for the ladies, collared shirts, ties and slacks with dress shoes for the men). The plane from South Africa to Uganda was surprisingly relaxing, and larger than I had imagined. I dazed in and out of consciousness, feeling drugged by the delicious food and relaxed by the movie.
Finally, our plane touched down in Entebbe, Uganda. I knew it would be chaos, disembarking from that small plane all at once. I prepared myself by just standing in the back of the plane--to my surprise, the plane also unloaded from the back! I was the first of my group off the plane, and the first Peace Corps 2011 volunteer on Ugandan soil! One worker welcomed me in English. I smiled, then stood there awkwardly.
“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked.
“Oh--yes,” I said. In no time, a steady stream of mzungus began to unload from the plane, and we proceeded to immigration.
The weather was just as we were told it would be, warm and muggy. Although I knew this in my head, I suppose I really didn’t think through what that would be like physically. It has thus far been fantastic.
We went smoothly through customs, and everyone’s bags came through, unharmed! Our sea of baggage began to clear with each PCT picking up his or her things, and following the Peace Corps staff that held signs, directing us where to go. The path we followed was a brownish concrete, lined with well-maintained gardens with shrubs and flowers. The sidewalk ended, and in the distance, even in the dark, the huge palm trees were visible. Peace Corps drivers were there to assist us with our baggage in the gravel parking lot.
February 11th, 2011
Getting there
About 25 hours ago, 44 Peace Corps volunteers were lined up at the entrance of the JFK airport in New York. This group, my new extended family, were 2 hours too early to check in. For this reason, we looked like a group of hobos, squatting at the airport. We all found humor in this situation, but weren’t timid, as there was a large flock of us. This has since been the feeling of courage everywhere we go; if anyone approached our large group, asking what we were doing loitering, we just proudly announced that we were with the Peace Corps. This has been eliciting several responses, including, “Really?” “Wow--where to?” “Why?” “What will you be doing?” “What inspired you to go into it?” “Stay healthy!”
I’ve never felt so exhausted from a traveling experience! Our journey began on Thursday morning, at two thirty AM, when we departed from our hotel via bus. From there, we rode to JFK, where we were informed that we were far too early--the gates didn’t open until seven, and we were there and ready at four. This is when we collected ourselves and lined up along an entrance area, with all of our luggage (the average amount of luggage being one hiking backpack, one large rolling duffel and a smaller duffel as a carry on). When we were permitted to the ticket counter, we methodically worked through the line, putting the appropriate bagging tags on our luggage and receiving our two tickets--one for South Africa, and one for our final destination of Uganda. After checking our luggage, we joined the already 50 strong group of travelers for the very thorough security checkpoint. I didn’t realize that I had gotten in line with a full Nalgene of water. Whoops--I guzzled it down while in line, which my body surprisingly needed. I thought that the process would be smooth as butter, just like every other time I rode. Unfortunately, my purse set off the alarm. A young man, about my age, took me over to a table to check through my bag.
“What?” He started, looking quizzically at my purse’s contents, “why do you have so many playing cards?”
“Oh-ha, I’m in the Peace Corps, and that’s for the down time.” I say, regretting my love of board games.
Even after his thorough check, my bag still set off some kind of alarm, which, per protocol, requires me to get the new TSA intimate pat down. As this was happening, I felt completely embarrassed and alone--several PCVs walked right on by, down to the gate. My lack of a watch, or sense of time, lead me to panic, thinking I would miss my flight. Luckily, a handful of people did hang back, and we marched on to the gate, where we had another 2 hours before the plane was to board.
Flying to South Africa can be summed up by one word; LONG. The flight was 15 hours, and crossed seven time zones. Despite its length, the flight had excellent entertainment, filling and frequent meals, and amenities like eye masks and blankets. The most uncomfortable part was when my butt would be in so much pain, I had to take walks to the bathroom, just to relieve my sore tushy. My half doughnut pillow saved me, because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep any other way with my given aisle seat.
Our arrival in South Africa was a relief and an introduction to the warm weather. Even though the airport was air-conditioned, everyone was sweating. Johannesburg airport is sparkly clean, and offers a lot of great shopping; Coach, LaCoste, Out of Africa, Out of Africa Kids, and more. Again, our group set up camp in a carpeted area behind an escalator. During our layover, we changed into our Ugandan professional clothes (long skirts and modest tops for the ladies, collared shirts, ties and slacks with dress shoes for the men). The plane from South Africa to Uganda was surprisingly relaxing, and larger than I had imagined. I dazed in and out of consciousness, feeling drugged by the delicious food and relaxed by the movie.
Finally, our plane touched down in Entebbe, Uganda. I knew it would be chaos, disembarking from that small plane all at once. I prepared myself by just standing in the back of the plane--to my surprise, the plane also unloaded from the back! I was the first of my group off the plane, and the first Peace Corps 2011 volunteer on Ugandan soil! One worker welcomed me in English. I smiled, then stood there awkwardly.
“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked.
“Oh--yes,” I said. In no time, a steady stream of mzungus began to unload from the plane, and we proceeded to immigration.
The weather was just as we were told it would be, warm and muggy. Although I knew this in my head, I suppose I really didn’t think through what that would be like physically. It has thus far been fantastic.
We went smoothly through customs, and everyone’s bags came through, unharmed! Our sea of baggage began to clear with each PCT picking up his or her things, and following the Peace Corps staff that held signs, directing us where to go. The path we followed was a brownish concrete, lined with well-maintained gardens with shrubs and flowers. The sidewalk ended, and in the distance, even in the dark, the huge palm trees were visible. Peace Corps drivers were there to assist us with our baggage in the gravel parking lot.
The ride through Entebbe to the Lweza training center was interesting; it was Friday night, and the town was in full swing. The night blended everything together into blackness, until a light shone upon it. When this happened, walkers and bikers on the side of the rode appeared, and Ugandans hanging out at bars and shops were seen. Large fires dotted the side of the road, sporadically, as the bus cruised smoothly on the left side. The half hour ride led us to a rather inconspicuous location, unmarked and not boasting of Peace Corps service. Security officers stopped us, and checked under the bus for whatever possible danger. The whole ride I was sitting near Lisa, my roommate from Philly, and Caroline, a secondary Ed. PCV from New Hampshire.
The security officer spoke to the driver a bit in a Ugandan laguage, imaginably giving permission for the officer to inspect the inside of the vehicle. The officer began, leaning in really close to the dark windows and shining his flashlight inside. The driver flipped the lights on inside the bus, and a huge grin came across the security officer’s face--we waved and laughed, and he waved back. Onward we went, up the short driveway to stop at our dorms.
Some Ugandan PC staff were giving directions while we unloaded our baggage. “Same-sex roommates--women downstairs, men upstairs. Once you’ve stored your things, come to the dining hall.” Carefully, I wobbled down the hallway with my 40 pounds of luggage, all on my person, looking for a room. Signs lined the hallway, saying things like “no cross-generational sex” “no sharing sharp objects” “Avoid dark corners” “Travel in Groups.” (I would later find out that these are PIASCY messages. PIASCY stands for "Presidential Initiative for AIDS Strategy for Communication to the Youth." Good stuff). Lisa and I settled on B10.
Our room is just as luxurious as any bed and breakfast I stayed at in Scotland-- there are beds with linens provided, a wardrobe, two chairs and a desk. The only difference about this room and Scotland B&Bs are the mosquito nets. I personally think mosquito nets are fun, like princess canopies.
Dinner began with several introductions of staff that I knew I would forget immediately. Introduction ceremonies were quick, and dinner was served. It was obvious to me that the food was American cuisine, imaginably so we would feel somewhat at home. And, at that moment, I did.
The security officer spoke to the driver a bit in a Ugandan laguage, imaginably giving permission for the officer to inspect the inside of the vehicle. The officer began, leaning in really close to the dark windows and shining his flashlight inside. The driver flipped the lights on inside the bus, and a huge grin came across the security officer’s face--we waved and laughed, and he waved back. Onward we went, up the short driveway to stop at our dorms.
Some Ugandan PC staff were giving directions while we unloaded our baggage. “Same-sex roommates--women downstairs, men upstairs. Once you’ve stored your things, come to the dining hall.” Carefully, I wobbled down the hallway with my 40 pounds of luggage, all on my person, looking for a room. Signs lined the hallway, saying things like “no cross-generational sex” “no sharing sharp objects” “Avoid dark corners” “Travel in Groups.” (I would later find out that these are PIASCY messages. PIASCY stands for "Presidential Initiative for AIDS Strategy for Communication to the Youth." Good stuff). Lisa and I settled on B10.
Our room is just as luxurious as any bed and breakfast I stayed at in Scotland-- there are beds with linens provided, a wardrobe, two chairs and a desk. The only difference about this room and Scotland B&Bs are the mosquito nets. I personally think mosquito nets are fun, like princess canopies.
Dinner began with several introductions of staff that I knew I would forget immediately. Introduction ceremonies were quick, and dinner was served. It was obvious to me that the food was American cuisine, imaginably so we would feel somewhat at home. And, at that moment, I did.
February 14th, 2011
Valentine’s Day--Cats!
I forgot it was Valentine’s Day until Jan handed out candy at our meeting this morning. Josh shouted with joy-- “Chocolate!”-- which was misleading...it was carmel of some sort, but still yummy and very much appreciated. The rest of the morning meeting wasn’t very Valentine’s day themed, but it was fun and informative.
We learned a lot about Shirley, one of the program directors. Shirley explained that she has a lot of empathy for us, being new, being different. She studied abroad in Canada during her Master’s degree, and had several experiences that she looks back on and laughs. I’m happy that there is a Ugandan that understands exactly how we feel. After her mini-bio, she discussed some realities that we will face in the Peace Corps, and we responded with how we would deal with these situations. Some of the realities were things that we were aware of before, and some I did not think about too much; for example, it is a reality that we will all break down and feel like quitting. How will we deal with this? Well, hopefully, according to the rumor mill, we will placed much closer to other volunteers than they had been in the past. The other realities that I hadn’t thought about before are now escaping me, but I know I must realize that this is one of the hardest jobs I’ll ever love.
After our morning introduction to training, we broke into two “Survival Luganda” language sessions. I went with Irene, the home stay coordinator, outside to the backyard, where we formed a circle with our chairs. To our left were the workers‘ break room, to our right was where they keep the guard dogs, and above and around are the palm trees that are all over the Lweza Training Center and Conference Center. (LTCC is printed on everything here, including the curtains). It’s so funny--I really didn’t think that schooling, in any capacity, really took place outside from time to time, but now it’s so obvious to me--why wouldn’t it? Huge tropical birds were the only interruptions, and the occasional cat that would wander into our circle. It’s gorgeous outside, bright, and very spacious. We sat there in a circle while Irene fed us Luganda.
“Wasuze Otyanno?” (Pronounced wah-su-zo-ti-an-no).
And we would repeat. “Wusze Otyanno?”
“Wasuze Otyanno?”
“Wasuze Otyanno?”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
I love absolutely every word in Luganda--it’s beautiful and fun to say. My favorite phrase so far is “Abeka bali batiya?” which means, “How is your family?”
The last, very long, but also fun phrase to say is tunaalabaguna, which means, “We’ll see each other.” Love it!
From language, we went inside and received our walking around money, in Ugandan shillings. After some unstructured time and confused waiting, it was time for tea. Tea came and went, lunch came and went, and then we finally broke into our primary and secondary groups. In these groups, we went over what our program will be like, and what our coming weeks will look like. During week six, we’ll be doing an immersion week in an area that speaks our language. One day, there will be an all-day 50th Anniversary celebration. Another day, in a couple of weeks, we’ll get to go to the zoo! I’m so excited. (I’m also excited that my US-Uganda AC adapter works just fine to charge my laptop!) Part of our pre-service training is a secondary project type practice report. We practice at identifying not deficits, but rather assets the community has to offer. From that, we create a sustainable project, and present it in the upmost professional manner, including culture, safety, language and resource accommodation. The group had a long, drawn-out, question filled discussion about this assignment, as it has been one of the most stress-inducing task thus far. It really reminded me of the good old cohort B1, when we were thrown something huge (like portfolio) and told that everything will be alright, and “we’ll cover that when we get there.”
This entry is called Valentine’s day and Cats because of what happened at dinner. Tonight I sat by Stevie, Lisa, Jackie and Mike at dinner. Mark, on the other side of Stevie, had gone to get a second helping of food. Meanwhile, Stevie was describing a graph she saw online about cats in relation to intelligence of phrases said. It was funny, and later led into a discussion about Hyperbole and a Half. This graph began with a cat far away, and the person saying, “Look, there’s a cat.” The cat was closer, and the person said, “Cat.”
“The last one, the cat was right next to him, and it was like, ‘Cats!’” She was saying, when she punched both fists into the air with one fist jamming directly into Mark’s freshly filled food plate! Rice and beef went everywhere, and we were hysterical.
Wednesday, February 16th, 2011
Free Shot Tuesdays!
On Tuesday (yesterday) we received vaccinations against rabies and meningitis. We stood in a line and one by one, sat in a chair and took the shots without much emotion. Several PCTs received shots during class time, in the same room. This was during our medical component, during which we learned the ABCDs of Malaria; A-awareness, B- bite prevention, C- chemoprophylaxis and D- diagnosis. For the diagnosis portion, we practiced how to administer a self-test, where we poke ourselves and smear blood on a slide. It was so funny to me, because the thousands of times that I sat in the blood clinic, getting my iron checked, I never figured that sticking my finger would be a skill I could use in the Peace Corps. Sure enough, there I was, poking my finger to get some evidence for my slide. I was at a station with Lisa, Liz and Chelsea. Lisa and I poked ourselves no problem, but Liz and Chelsea needed to psych themselves up a bit. Chelsea was so nervous, her palm was glistening with sweat--I could see it from where I sat. I feel very prepared in case of the slight possibility that I may contract malaria.
Later on Tuesday, during our mentor session (led by PCVTs), we did an exercise that would advertise our skills to our fellow PCTs. Dan, a PCVT, was the “superhero” as an example, and it was HILARIOUS! He wore a cape that had been used as a visual aide for a women’s menstrual health class--it was too funny! Lizzy was the volunteer who spearheaded the reusable pads secondary project, which was very successful. My group collected on the grass, and for the majority of our 45 minutes, we brainstormed. When we were ready to create the project, we had five minutes! One of my skills was cartoon drawing, so I whipped together an illustration in less than 8 minutes, showing “Practical Polly.” I am not used to being the only resident illustrator, and I was taken aback at the flood of compliments I received. All of the other groups had a hilarious skit with a dramatized superhero-- we were the only one doing the group-in-a-line-with-a-poster piece, however, everyone still appreciated the art. I’m glad that I finally feel like I’ve contributed something to the group.
Valentine’s Day--Cats!
I forgot it was Valentine’s Day until Jan handed out candy at our meeting this morning. Josh shouted with joy-- “Chocolate!”-- which was misleading...it was carmel of some sort, but still yummy and very much appreciated. The rest of the morning meeting wasn’t very Valentine’s day themed, but it was fun and informative.
We learned a lot about Shirley, one of the program directors. Shirley explained that she has a lot of empathy for us, being new, being different. She studied abroad in Canada during her Master’s degree, and had several experiences that she looks back on and laughs. I’m happy that there is a Ugandan that understands exactly how we feel. After her mini-bio, she discussed some realities that we will face in the Peace Corps, and we responded with how we would deal with these situations. Some of the realities were things that we were aware of before, and some I did not think about too much; for example, it is a reality that we will all break down and feel like quitting. How will we deal with this? Well, hopefully, according to the rumor mill, we will placed much closer to other volunteers than they had been in the past. The other realities that I hadn’t thought about before are now escaping me, but I know I must realize that this is one of the hardest jobs I’ll ever love.
After our morning introduction to training, we broke into two “Survival Luganda” language sessions. I went with Irene, the home stay coordinator, outside to the backyard, where we formed a circle with our chairs. To our left were the workers‘ break room, to our right was where they keep the guard dogs, and above and around are the palm trees that are all over the Lweza Training Center and Conference Center. (LTCC is printed on everything here, including the curtains). It’s so funny--I really didn’t think that schooling, in any capacity, really took place outside from time to time, but now it’s so obvious to me--why wouldn’t it? Huge tropical birds were the only interruptions, and the occasional cat that would wander into our circle. It’s gorgeous outside, bright, and very spacious. We sat there in a circle while Irene fed us Luganda.
“Wasuze Otyanno?” (Pronounced wah-su-zo-ti-an-no).
And we would repeat. “Wusze Otyanno?”
“Wasuze Otyanno?”
“Wasuze Otyanno?”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
“Bulungi.”
I love absolutely every word in Luganda--it’s beautiful and fun to say. My favorite phrase so far is “Abeka bali batiya?” which means, “How is your family?”
The last, very long, but also fun phrase to say is tunaalabaguna, which means, “We’ll see each other.” Love it!
From language, we went inside and received our walking around money, in Ugandan shillings. After some unstructured time and confused waiting, it was time for tea. Tea came and went, lunch came and went, and then we finally broke into our primary and secondary groups. In these groups, we went over what our program will be like, and what our coming weeks will look like. During week six, we’ll be doing an immersion week in an area that speaks our language. One day, there will be an all-day 50th Anniversary celebration. Another day, in a couple of weeks, we’ll get to go to the zoo! I’m so excited. (I’m also excited that my US-Uganda AC adapter works just fine to charge my laptop!) Part of our pre-service training is a secondary project type practice report. We practice at identifying not deficits, but rather assets the community has to offer. From that, we create a sustainable project, and present it in the upmost professional manner, including culture, safety, language and resource accommodation. The group had a long, drawn-out, question filled discussion about this assignment, as it has been one of the most stress-inducing task thus far. It really reminded me of the good old cohort B1, when we were thrown something huge (like portfolio) and told that everything will be alright, and “we’ll cover that when we get there.”
This entry is called Valentine’s day and Cats because of what happened at dinner. Tonight I sat by Stevie, Lisa, Jackie and Mike at dinner. Mark, on the other side of Stevie, had gone to get a second helping of food. Meanwhile, Stevie was describing a graph she saw online about cats in relation to intelligence of phrases said. It was funny, and later led into a discussion about Hyperbole and a Half. This graph began with a cat far away, and the person saying, “Look, there’s a cat.” The cat was closer, and the person said, “Cat.”
“The last one, the cat was right next to him, and it was like, ‘Cats!’” She was saying, when she punched both fists into the air with one fist jamming directly into Mark’s freshly filled food plate! Rice and beef went everywhere, and we were hysterical.
Wednesday, February 16th, 2011
Free Shot Tuesdays!
On Tuesday (yesterday) we received vaccinations against rabies and meningitis. We stood in a line and one by one, sat in a chair and took the shots without much emotion. Several PCTs received shots during class time, in the same room. This was during our medical component, during which we learned the ABCDs of Malaria; A-awareness, B- bite prevention, C- chemoprophylaxis and D- diagnosis. For the diagnosis portion, we practiced how to administer a self-test, where we poke ourselves and smear blood on a slide. It was so funny to me, because the thousands of times that I sat in the blood clinic, getting my iron checked, I never figured that sticking my finger would be a skill I could use in the Peace Corps. Sure enough, there I was, poking my finger to get some evidence for my slide. I was at a station with Lisa, Liz and Chelsea. Lisa and I poked ourselves no problem, but Liz and Chelsea needed to psych themselves up a bit. Chelsea was so nervous, her palm was glistening with sweat--I could see it from where I sat. I feel very prepared in case of the slight possibility that I may contract malaria.
Later on Tuesday, during our mentor session (led by PCVTs), we did an exercise that would advertise our skills to our fellow PCTs. Dan, a PCVT, was the “superhero” as an example, and it was HILARIOUS! He wore a cape that had been used as a visual aide for a women’s menstrual health class--it was too funny! Lizzy was the volunteer who spearheaded the reusable pads secondary project, which was very successful. My group collected on the grass, and for the majority of our 45 minutes, we brainstormed. When we were ready to create the project, we had five minutes! One of my skills was cartoon drawing, so I whipped together an illustration in less than 8 minutes, showing “Practical Polly.” I am not used to being the only resident illustrator, and I was taken aback at the flood of compliments I received. All of the other groups had a hilarious skit with a dramatized superhero-- we were the only one doing the group-in-a-line-with-a-poster piece, however, everyone still appreciated the art. I’m glad that I finally feel like I’ve contributed something to the group.
During our mentor session today, we had American Diversity training. We reflected on our biggest accomplishments within the past year, and the biggest failures. My six biggest accomplishments were:
Graduating
Finishing portfolio
Being invited into the Peace Corps
Teaching about 12 weeks of sixth grade math
Working at Easter Seals
Assisting to Jean in winning the Iron Cupcake
Creating a meaningful Poetry unit for Urban Day, having performers come
Surprisingly enough, it was harder for me to think of failures. Here is what I thought of:
Breaking down crying in front of sixth grade
Not reaching out to parents as much as I should have during student teaching
Being unprepared to teach Ancient Rome
Graduating
Finishing portfolio
Being invited into the Peace Corps
Teaching about 12 weeks of sixth grade math
Working at Easter Seals
Assisting to Jean in winning the Iron Cupcake
Creating a meaningful Poetry unit for Urban Day, having performers come
Surprisingly enough, it was harder for me to think of failures. Here is what I thought of:
Breaking down crying in front of sixth grade
Not reaching out to parents as much as I should have during student teaching
Being unprepared to teach Ancient Rome
Ruining the floors in the apartment
The exercise was for us to then think about those failures and accomplishments if we had been different in some way. For my card, I drew a change of race (to African American). I felt like I would have been more successful in the schools I had worked in, especially connecting with students. However, I then questioned myself if I would have even become a teacher. I grew up in Hartland, where there were maybe two African American families in the whole damn place--I would have stuck out, and I would have had to deal with that a lot. It would have either made me a much stronger person, or have made me find poor coping strategies. Either way, I wonder if I would have gone to UWM-Milwaukee? I thought about this for some time, while we were instructed to reflect.
We then discussed in small groups, and I realized, through talking it out, that I feel my biggest failures are those which are emotionally charged. Breaking down and crying was my biggest failure, I feel, and it was because I couldn’t control how I felt.
The exercise was for us to then think about those failures and accomplishments if we had been different in some way. For my card, I drew a change of race (to African American). I felt like I would have been more successful in the schools I had worked in, especially connecting with students. However, I then questioned myself if I would have even become a teacher. I grew up in Hartland, where there were maybe two African American families in the whole damn place--I would have stuck out, and I would have had to deal with that a lot. It would have either made me a much stronger person, or have made me find poor coping strategies. Either way, I wonder if I would have gone to UWM-Milwaukee? I thought about this for some time, while we were instructed to reflect.
We then discussed in small groups, and I realized, through talking it out, that I feel my biggest failures are those which are emotionally charged. Breaking down and crying was my biggest failure, I feel, and it was because I couldn’t control how I felt.
Pineapple
The pineapple here is AMAZING! It’s like candy, it’s soooo sweet! Whenever they put out pineapple, I go back for seconds. MMM!
The pineapple here is AMAZING! It’s like candy, it’s soooo sweet! Whenever they put out pineapple, I go back for seconds. MMM!
Fritos Bar-B-Que Flavor
The bag looks the same, the font is the same, the chips are shaped the same--BUT, for some reason, they taste MUCH different. The Fritos Bar-B-Que here are more sweet, and far less salty.
Tomorrow, I’m looking forward to more language learning, and hopefully some time for laundry. Two days until elections!
The bag looks the same, the font is the same, the chips are shaped the same--BUT, for some reason, they taste MUCH different. The Fritos Bar-B-Que here are more sweet, and far less salty.
Tomorrow, I’m looking forward to more language learning, and hopefully some time for laundry. Two days until elections!
February 25th, 2011
The Night Before everything changes
This whole week is finished! Sometimes I wonder how that happens. Hmm...to recap....
On Monday, we received tape recorders and tech. transcripts with our specific languages. Our group struggled to understand what was being said on the tape...for both the English and Lusoga portions. The Lusoga group is Elizabeth, Lisa, Maggie, Kevin, Kelsey and I. Maggie and I are the only Primary teachers in the Lusoga group. Michael, one of the servers in the kitchen, originally speaks Lusoga. So, I greeted him one day--
“Wasuze oty’eyo isebo?” I say.
“Bulungi inhabo.” He said, automatically.
“Nsangaire okukubona?”
“Zeena--you speak Lusoga?” He said surprised.
“Yes!”
“I speak Lusoga!”
And, I felt stupid for this, but all I said was “Yayyy!” He probably thinks I have a pea-brain.
Also on Monday, we received two large assignments; a primary section lesson plan and week-at-a glance, as well as a Life Skills peer teaching. Liz, LaToya, Chen and I all worked on Alternative/Effective teaching methods. We had soooo many ideas! I was worried that it wouldn’t all fit into the half hour slot we were allotted, but it did! We met on Wednesday, and worked feverishly, all ambitious with our ideas. Although we were keeping track of time so we wouldn’t miss dinner, we didn’t take notice of what was happening outside. Once a gust front came through, we realized, and took action to close all of the windows. The sky changed color rapidly, and for the first time, I saw several Ugandans walking quickly to find shelter. The thunder in the distance tipped us off to what was happening--Rain!
This, of course, inspired us to launch into Toto’s “Africa.” We and the other couple of PCTs that were stuck in the conference room sang and watched the rain. We experienced some as well, and it was the most refreshing rain I ever felt!
Tuesday was, of course, shot day! The medical session on the 22nd was water sanitation. I learned that one may use this large bucket apparatus to filter very dirty swamp water, then bleach treat it, or--if it’s overall pretty clean, just bleach treat it. Either way, we put this water treatment stuff in.
The Night Before everything changes
This whole week is finished! Sometimes I wonder how that happens. Hmm...to recap....
On Monday, we received tape recorders and tech. transcripts with our specific languages. Our group struggled to understand what was being said on the tape...for both the English and Lusoga portions. The Lusoga group is Elizabeth, Lisa, Maggie, Kevin, Kelsey and I. Maggie and I are the only Primary teachers in the Lusoga group. Michael, one of the servers in the kitchen, originally speaks Lusoga. So, I greeted him one day--
“Wasuze oty’eyo isebo?” I say.
“Bulungi inhabo.” He said, automatically.
“Nsangaire okukubona?”
“Zeena--you speak Lusoga?” He said surprised.
“Yes!”
“I speak Lusoga!”
And, I felt stupid for this, but all I said was “Yayyy!” He probably thinks I have a pea-brain.
Also on Monday, we received two large assignments; a primary section lesson plan and week-at-a glance, as well as a Life Skills peer teaching. Liz, LaToya, Chen and I all worked on Alternative/Effective teaching methods. We had soooo many ideas! I was worried that it wouldn’t all fit into the half hour slot we were allotted, but it did! We met on Wednesday, and worked feverishly, all ambitious with our ideas. Although we were keeping track of time so we wouldn’t miss dinner, we didn’t take notice of what was happening outside. Once a gust front came through, we realized, and took action to close all of the windows. The sky changed color rapidly, and for the first time, I saw several Ugandans walking quickly to find shelter. The thunder in the distance tipped us off to what was happening--Rain!
This, of course, inspired us to launch into Toto’s “Africa.” We and the other couple of PCTs that were stuck in the conference room sang and watched the rain. We experienced some as well, and it was the most refreshing rain I ever felt!
Tuesday was, of course, shot day! The medical session on the 22nd was water sanitation. I learned that one may use this large bucket apparatus to filter very dirty swamp water, then bleach treat it, or--if it’s overall pretty clean, just bleach treat it. Either way, we put this water treatment stuff in.
February 25th, 2011
The Night Before everything changes
This whole week is finished! Sometimes I wonder how that happens. Hmm...to recap....
On Monday, we received tape recorders and tech. transcripts with our specific languages. Our group struggled to understand what was being said on the tape...for both the English and Lusoga portions. The Lusoga group is Elizabeth, Lisa, Maggie, Kevin, Kelsey and I. Maggie and I are the only Primary teachers in the Lusoga group. Michael, one of the servers in the kitchen, originally speaks Lusoga. So, I greeted him one day--
“Wasuze oty’eyo isebo?” I say.
“Bulungi inhabo.” He said, automatically.
“Nsangaire okukubona?”
“Zeena--you speak Lusoga?” He said surprised.
“Yes!”
“I speak Lusoga!”
And, I felt stupid for this, but all I said was “Yayyy!” He probably thinks I have a pea-brain.
Also on Monday, we received two large assignments; a primary section lesson plan and week-at-a glance, as well as a Life Skills peer teaching. Liz, LaToya, Chen and I all worked on Alternative/Effective teaching methods. We had soooo many ideas! I was worried that it wouldn’t all fit into the half hour slot we were allotted, but it did! We met on Wednesday, and worked feverishly, all ambitious with our ideas. Although we were keeping track of time so we wouldn’t miss dinner, we didn’t take notice of what was happening outside. Once a gust front came through, we realized, and took action to close all of the windows. The sky changed color rapidly, and for the first time, I saw several Ugandans walking quickly to find shelter. The thunder in the distance tipped us off to what was happening--Rain!
This, of course, inspired us to launch into Toto’s “Africa.” We and the other couple of PCTs that were stuck in the conference room sang and watched the rain. We experienced some as well, and it was the most refreshing rain I ever felt!
Tuesday was, of course, shot day! The medical session on the 22nd was water sanitation. I learned that one may use this large bucket apparatus to filter very dirty swamp water, then bleach treat it, or--if it’s overall pretty clean, just bleach treat it. Either way, we put this water treatment stuff in.
The Night Before everything changes
This whole week is finished! Sometimes I wonder how that happens. Hmm...to recap....
On Monday, we received tape recorders and tech. transcripts with our specific languages. Our group struggled to understand what was being said on the tape...for both the English and Lusoga portions. The Lusoga group is Elizabeth, Lisa, Maggie, Kevin, Kelsey and I. Maggie and I are the only Primary teachers in the Lusoga group. Michael, one of the servers in the kitchen, originally speaks Lusoga. So, I greeted him one day--
“Wasuze oty’eyo isebo?” I say.
“Bulungi inhabo.” He said, automatically.
“Nsangaire okukubona?”
“Zeena--you speak Lusoga?” He said surprised.
“Yes!”
“I speak Lusoga!”
And, I felt stupid for this, but all I said was “Yayyy!” He probably thinks I have a pea-brain.
Also on Monday, we received two large assignments; a primary section lesson plan and week-at-a glance, as well as a Life Skills peer teaching. Liz, LaToya, Chen and I all worked on Alternative/Effective teaching methods. We had soooo many ideas! I was worried that it wouldn’t all fit into the half hour slot we were allotted, but it did! We met on Wednesday, and worked feverishly, all ambitious with our ideas. Although we were keeping track of time so we wouldn’t miss dinner, we didn’t take notice of what was happening outside. Once a gust front came through, we realized, and took action to close all of the windows. The sky changed color rapidly, and for the first time, I saw several Ugandans walking quickly to find shelter. The thunder in the distance tipped us off to what was happening--Rain!
This, of course, inspired us to launch into Toto’s “Africa.” We and the other couple of PCTs that were stuck in the conference room sang and watched the rain. We experienced some as well, and it was the most refreshing rain I ever felt!
Tuesday was, of course, shot day! The medical session on the 22nd was water sanitation. I learned that one may use this large bucket apparatus to filter very dirty swamp water, then bleach treat it, or--if it’s overall pretty clean, just bleach treat it. Either way, we put this water treatment stuff in.
February 19th, 2011
Lazy Day
This is new for us PCTs. Today, we literally had absolutely no obligations, unless we were to meet with Mary. I did meet with Mary today, and I think it went well. She asked if I can cook, and if I’m OK with biking long distances. I said yes to both, and explained that I used to cook in a kitchen.
“What is prep cook?” She asked.
“Oh, we just would prepare the meals for the cooks, chop vegetables, make sauces, anything the line cooks needed for the line. Then, as a line cook, I would cook meals to order.”
“Oh great, then you won’t starve. You’re perfect for rural.”
I guess my future has been decided.
Yesterday, we did an exercise where we broke into groups and created learning aids for various subjects, using only the materials found around Lweza. I was super impressed with what everyone came up with. One group did a solar system with circles, construction paper, all hanging off of a vine. Another group made a human body model using found nature items. One of my favorites was the visual group for the secondary school, which made the unit circle out of twigs--it was very impressive!
This is all I can write for now because I’m running out of power. I’ll hopefully write soon!
Lazy Day
This is new for us PCTs. Today, we literally had absolutely no obligations, unless we were to meet with Mary. I did meet with Mary today, and I think it went well. She asked if I can cook, and if I’m OK with biking long distances. I said yes to both, and explained that I used to cook in a kitchen.
“What is prep cook?” She asked.
“Oh, we just would prepare the meals for the cooks, chop vegetables, make sauces, anything the line cooks needed for the line. Then, as a line cook, I would cook meals to order.”
“Oh great, then you won’t starve. You’re perfect for rural.”
I guess my future has been decided.
Yesterday, we did an exercise where we broke into groups and created learning aids for various subjects, using only the materials found around Lweza. I was super impressed with what everyone came up with. One group did a solar system with circles, construction paper, all hanging off of a vine. Another group made a human body model using found nature items. One of my favorites was the visual group for the secondary school, which made the unit circle out of twigs--it was very impressive!
This is all I can write for now because I’m running out of power. I’ll hopefully write soon!
February 26th, 2011
Adopted!
Today was the big day! Our group of 44 were picked up by our homestay families. It was funny, seeing all of us and our belongings, sprawled all out, again. I believe the last time we were en masse like that was the entebbe airport. We took all of our bags outside to a grassy area under trees, and staked out a spot. To our pile, we added a mattress, a bucket, a solar lamp, a pillow and a blanket. After that, we pulled up the white, plastic garden chairs and chatted until people started to arrive. We all felt like it was adoption day, and our prospective parents were picking us up. Several of us were wondering what the families must have been thinking, coming to pick us up. “Which one is my mzungu?” We joked.
Adopted!
Today was the big day! Our group of 44 were picked up by our homestay families. It was funny, seeing all of us and our belongings, sprawled all out, again. I believe the last time we were en masse like that was the entebbe airport. We took all of our bags outside to a grassy area under trees, and staked out a spot. To our pile, we added a mattress, a bucket, a solar lamp, a pillow and a blanket. After that, we pulled up the white, plastic garden chairs and chatted until people started to arrive. We all felt like it was adoption day, and our prospective parents were picking us up. Several of us were wondering what the families must have been thinking, coming to pick us up. “Which one is my mzungu?” We joked.
The a Land Rover showed up, and we were all so excited. Irene came over to our chair circle, and called for Erik, which made the rest of us applaud--hooray! It then became a trend to applaud for everyone who was picked up after that. I sat for about an hour on my bathing bucket, that we learned how to use earlier this week. Several cars came and go, mostly Land Rovers and other larger SUVs. A few families arrived on Boda Bodas, which then helped their PCTs into Peace Corps transportation. I was finally called over, and it was pretty exciting! I met Mr. M and greeted and chatted with him briefly. Unbeknownst to me, while we were introducing ourselves, everyone had left for tea. Mr. M went with Irene quickly to sign paper work or something, and while he did that, I started gathering my items, which Silas helped me with. Right then, a man came over and started to help me. He introduced himself as ‘John.’ Thinking it was an 'M', I introduced myself and handed him some bags. I now know that I must have looked like the only white girl, because everyone else had gone to tea. I then realized that he started putting my things into a station wagon, when I clearly remember that Mr. M had just told me that he has a tiny car. Luckily, who I presume was John’s wife, came by. I asked her if she was Mrs. M, and she gave me a puzzled look. She looked at my yellow card (that had a brief bit about our families on it) and saw that it was not her name. I apologized, and we all chuckled about the mix-up. The security guard then pointed me to the correct car, and helped me carry my heavy Peace-Corps materials bag. Mr. M had come back, and must have not noticed that I almost went with the wrong family. Phew.
It was a very short ride, because it was just down the road, near the bar. I felt bad that he had even brought his car--we could have easily walked. We passed a few small houses, and he kept pointing, saying, “This is home, yeah, this is home.” I was confused, because I was wondering which one was home. To my surprise, and somewhat relief, we pulled up to a large concrete wall, and entered a gate. After we slowly drove up the drive through that gate, we came to another gate. An older woman opened both gates for us.
“Jaja--that’s grandmother,” he explained. We waived to her. “You’ll meet my daughters, Catherine and Judith.”
Catherine looks to be about my age, and she speaks very good English. When I met her, she was mopping the kitchen and the patio.
“This is your room,” she said, showing me to a very large bedroom, with two beds.
“Oooh,” I admired. I set down the mattress on the twin bed, and looked over at the queen-sized bed.
“You can sleep wherever you’d like. Did you bring bedding?”
“Oh yes. May I use this bed?” I asked, pointing to the large, luxurious queen-sized bed.
“Of course.” She went on to tell me that her younger sister is in P6, but she is away at boarding school, so she won’t be back while I’m here. Because all of her things are still here, the wardrobe is full, but I’m using the other bed for my things. I have MUCH more space than I’m used to. I spent some time unpacking. Catherine poked her head back in, “Would you like something to eat? Breakfast?”
At first I declined, but I realized that I was actually pretty hungry. No problem, because of course she was going to offer me food anyway. She made some porridge for me, which is a corn-meal kind of thing. She also made me an omelet that was suuuper yummy. I thanked her so much for both. I ate breakfast with Mr. Muweesi. He pointed out that I wasn’t putting enough sugar in my porridge. After a few tastes, I knew what he was talking about.
It was a very short ride, because it was just down the road, near the bar. I felt bad that he had even brought his car--we could have easily walked. We passed a few small houses, and he kept pointing, saying, “This is home, yeah, this is home.” I was confused, because I was wondering which one was home. To my surprise, and somewhat relief, we pulled up to a large concrete wall, and entered a gate. After we slowly drove up the drive through that gate, we came to another gate. An older woman opened both gates for us.
“Jaja--that’s grandmother,” he explained. We waived to her. “You’ll meet my daughters, Catherine and Judith.”
Catherine looks to be about my age, and she speaks very good English. When I met her, she was mopping the kitchen and the patio.
“This is your room,” she said, showing me to a very large bedroom, with two beds.
“Oooh,” I admired. I set down the mattress on the twin bed, and looked over at the queen-sized bed.
“You can sleep wherever you’d like. Did you bring bedding?”
“Oh yes. May I use this bed?” I asked, pointing to the large, luxurious queen-sized bed.
“Of course.” She went on to tell me that her younger sister is in P6, but she is away at boarding school, so she won’t be back while I’m here. Because all of her things are still here, the wardrobe is full, but I’m using the other bed for my things. I have MUCH more space than I’m used to. I spent some time unpacking. Catherine poked her head back in, “Would you like something to eat? Breakfast?”
At first I declined, but I realized that I was actually pretty hungry. No problem, because of course she was going to offer me food anyway. She made some porridge for me, which is a corn-meal kind of thing. She also made me an omelet that was suuuper yummy. I thanked her so much for both. I ate breakfast with Mr. Muweesi. He pointed out that I wasn’t putting enough sugar in my porridge. After a few tastes, I knew what he was talking about.
After our breakfast and conversation, he showed me around the house and the compound. The house is huge, and a compound in itself; however, there are a few houses just outside of our house. The outer compound is where there are two guard dogs. Just like a few other houses I’ve seen, there is broken glass cemented to the top edge of the cement wall, to ensure no one is climbing over. He also explained the water tanks to me, that they get water, but when the city pump doesn’t work, at least they have whatever is in the tanks. The main tank, right outside of the kitchen, is about the size of the hotel room I had just stayed in, perhaps bigger. Then, there is another tank in the yard.
At some point, I went back inside. Catherine was mopping still. I asked her where the bathroom was. She gladly showed me, and to my delight there is a toilet! The bathroom, with a toilet and a shower, is right next to my room! This means so many things--no night bucket, no bathing with a bucket, no bucket period! I’m so spoiled, and I love it!
After that, I expressed that I had some laundry to do, and, because I saw that everyone else was cleaning, I asked if it was OK. Mr. M called for Catherine, who had to quickly wrap herself in a towel and run out. They spoke a bit in Luganda, and then Judith came over, and it was decided that Judith would help me. Judith stays in a room that is separate from the house, and she’s with her three week old baby--so itty bitty! He’s adorable.
Judith helped me set up about four basins, while Catherine was getting ready for something. I explained to her that the last time I did laundry, the soap ate my hands.
“Oh, you know why? Because when you wash a lot and scrub with Omo, it will burn your hands like that. What you do is you scrub in the first bucket, just with bar soap, then you put it in the Omo.” Wow, that makes all kinds of sense to me. I wish I had known this earlier! She showed me some techniques of scrubbing and whatnot, and helped me a ton. I was so thankful. Judith said something to Catherine in Luganda, and Catherine came over.
“What happened to your hands?” I showed her, and she said, “Ohh, yeah don’t scrub with Omo. Well, enjoy your washing experience!” I just laughed, as did she.
After that, there wasn’t much to do. She suggested that I watch and help Jaja with lunch. “We cook in the African kitchen because there is no power.” She explained.
The African kitchen is another small room, across from the main house. This room is charred completely inside, and has several sigyerie (I think? Charcoal stoves). It was funny, because when Mr. M showed me this room, he showed me coal like I had never seen it before. Haha. I just smiled and nodded. So, there was Jaja, preparing things. Judith wanted her to show me how to make posho. Posho is a mix of flour and water, and when made correctly, comes out like a gelatinous figure. While I was watching Jaja make posho, she went on and on in Luganda, explaining things to me. I would repeat things here and there, but otherwise I really had no idea what she was saying. I picked up on when she wanted me to carry things, but other than that, I had no clue. All while Jaja was cooking, Judith went on and on about how hungry she was, which was funny. She just had a baby, so she just felt starved. At some point, Josiah came home in what looked like a school uniform. I thought it was strange, because I didn’t think he had school on Saturdays. I didn’t talk to him at all except for an English greeting, then he, Judith and Jaja all talked with each other in Luganda. Some things Judith would explain to me, and other things I suppose weren’t pertinent.
When it was finally time to eat, I sat with Judith at the small table on the porch. I took what I felt comfortable with, and dug in.
“You didn’t take very much--you eat like a baby.” She said, looking at my plate. I was cautious about the posho, because I didn’t believe that I would like it. As long as I mixed it with beans or avocado slices, it was more than fine. After lunch, I offered to do dishes, but Judith gave me a funny look.
“Why would you do that? Don’t worry about it.” She rubbed her forehead. “I have a headache.” She then told me the Luganda words for headache, but I forgot them already. “I’m going to go rest.” I went back inside, and thought that it would be the perfect time to journal. I am thinking that now would be a good rest for myself. I haven’t done anything, but I wouldn’t mind relaxing a bit.
At some point, I went back inside. Catherine was mopping still. I asked her where the bathroom was. She gladly showed me, and to my delight there is a toilet! The bathroom, with a toilet and a shower, is right next to my room! This means so many things--no night bucket, no bathing with a bucket, no bucket period! I’m so spoiled, and I love it!
After that, I expressed that I had some laundry to do, and, because I saw that everyone else was cleaning, I asked if it was OK. Mr. M called for Catherine, who had to quickly wrap herself in a towel and run out. They spoke a bit in Luganda, and then Judith came over, and it was decided that Judith would help me. Judith stays in a room that is separate from the house, and she’s with her three week old baby--so itty bitty! He’s adorable.
Judith helped me set up about four basins, while Catherine was getting ready for something. I explained to her that the last time I did laundry, the soap ate my hands.
“Oh, you know why? Because when you wash a lot and scrub with Omo, it will burn your hands like that. What you do is you scrub in the first bucket, just with bar soap, then you put it in the Omo.” Wow, that makes all kinds of sense to me. I wish I had known this earlier! She showed me some techniques of scrubbing and whatnot, and helped me a ton. I was so thankful. Judith said something to Catherine in Luganda, and Catherine came over.
“What happened to your hands?” I showed her, and she said, “Ohh, yeah don’t scrub with Omo. Well, enjoy your washing experience!” I just laughed, as did she.
After that, there wasn’t much to do. She suggested that I watch and help Jaja with lunch. “We cook in the African kitchen because there is no power.” She explained.
The African kitchen is another small room, across from the main house. This room is charred completely inside, and has several sigyerie (I think? Charcoal stoves). It was funny, because when Mr. M showed me this room, he showed me coal like I had never seen it before. Haha. I just smiled and nodded. So, there was Jaja, preparing things. Judith wanted her to show me how to make posho. Posho is a mix of flour and water, and when made correctly, comes out like a gelatinous figure. While I was watching Jaja make posho, she went on and on in Luganda, explaining things to me. I would repeat things here and there, but otherwise I really had no idea what she was saying. I picked up on when she wanted me to carry things, but other than that, I had no clue. All while Jaja was cooking, Judith went on and on about how hungry she was, which was funny. She just had a baby, so she just felt starved. At some point, Josiah came home in what looked like a school uniform. I thought it was strange, because I didn’t think he had school on Saturdays. I didn’t talk to him at all except for an English greeting, then he, Judith and Jaja all talked with each other in Luganda. Some things Judith would explain to me, and other things I suppose weren’t pertinent.
When it was finally time to eat, I sat with Judith at the small table on the porch. I took what I felt comfortable with, and dug in.
“You didn’t take very much--you eat like a baby.” She said, looking at my plate. I was cautious about the posho, because I didn’t believe that I would like it. As long as I mixed it with beans or avocado slices, it was more than fine. After lunch, I offered to do dishes, but Judith gave me a funny look.
“Why would you do that? Don’t worry about it.” She rubbed her forehead. “I have a headache.” She then told me the Luganda words for headache, but I forgot them already. “I’m going to go rest.” I went back inside, and thought that it would be the perfect time to journal. I am thinking that now would be a good rest for myself. I haven’t done anything, but I wouldn’t mind relaxing a bit.
February 27th, 2011
Opposites
This is the second day as an 'M.' I absolutely love it here, even though I found a half-dead cockroach in my room this morning (the big kind). I’m not sure if cockroaches area a regular thing or not, so I’m afraid to ask if I should be concerned. Flushing toilet. Shower. Queen-sized bed. I’m so happy. On top of that, I’m fed very well, and they have included items that I like, so that I would eat more (like “Irish Potatoes” read: potatoes).
Today, I hung out mostly with Caty (Catherine). My day started with church, because I somehow offered myself to go to church. I can’t for the life of me think of the other brother’s name, but he had come home last night after working at the bookstore that the mom owns. I believe the conversation started with me asking if people go to church on Sundays. I then offered to go, thinking they all went to the same place. They do not. Emi (the brother whose name I cannot remember) goes to an Anglican church, or, as I would call it, an Evangelistic church. I went with him, and it was far different than I had expected. Why? Because it was very, very American. So begins my list of opposites. I’m listing things that I thought originally coming to Uganda, but have found them to be an opposite situation.
Opposites
This is the second day as an 'M.' I absolutely love it here, even though I found a half-dead cockroach in my room this morning (the big kind). I’m not sure if cockroaches area a regular thing or not, so I’m afraid to ask if I should be concerned. Flushing toilet. Shower. Queen-sized bed. I’m so happy. On top of that, I’m fed very well, and they have included items that I like, so that I would eat more (like “Irish Potatoes” read: potatoes).
Today, I hung out mostly with Caty (Catherine). My day started with church, because I somehow offered myself to go to church. I can’t for the life of me think of the other brother’s name, but he had come home last night after working at the bookstore that the mom owns. I believe the conversation started with me asking if people go to church on Sundays. I then offered to go, thinking they all went to the same place. They do not. Emi (the brother whose name I cannot remember) goes to an Anglican church, or, as I would call it, an Evangelistic church. I went with him, and it was far different than I had expected. Why? Because it was very, very American. So begins my list of opposites. I’m listing things that I thought originally coming to Uganda, but have found them to be an opposite situation.
Church
Original assumption: An old building, possibly with hens and goats roaming around it, no power, people who have never seen a mzungu before, having walked far distances and insistence on me giving a speech.
Actuality: A high-class tent, fit with fans, stage lights and four monitors. A stage, with a full choir and band, all lead singers fitted with mics. The chairs were like garden furniture chairs, but sliver-colored and very comfortable. Everyone was clearly suburban, having arrived in very “smart” clothes and Land Rovers or BMWs.
A muzungu, who I assumed to be about my age, greeted me and asked to check my purse. After a quick glance, she welcomed me and said something to the effect of God Bless. There where about five Ushers, showing us where to go. I received some looks, but I wasn’t the only mzungu at the church (thank goodness). The whole thing was like a very well choreographed show, and I believe that they even referred to some of their services as “shows.” One of the speakers asked for a show of hands to see who was new to the church. I very meekly raised my hand, because I didn’t want to stand out....more than I already was. I stopped raising my hand after a bit, and he kept asking, “Please! If you are new to this church, we want to welcome you! Who is here for the first time? Raise your hand high!” He kept looking at me, knowing that I was new. Oh well. The church service went on. Every song they sang had the lyrics displayed on the screens, like karaoke, so one could sing along. I just liked listening to the songs, so I kind of swayed. One thing I didn’t like about the church service was that I felt like I was watching a televangelist, asking for money. What church doesn’t ask for money? But, I wasn’t about to give money. I probably should have, as I was a guest, but I consider myself to be living on very little spending money. The woman next to me definitely noticed that I passed the collection baggies on by quickly. While one of the speakers was describing the work they’ve accomplished in the North with former boy soldiers, and how they need more money to reach their goal, she kind of poked me (I still don’t know if it was intentional or not, but it sent a message).
Water
Original Assumption: Conserve! Infrequent showers.
Actuality: Ugandans bathe at least twice a day, sometimes three times a day. Americans, therefore, can leave the impression of being dirty. I’m not doing my best. I need to bathe twice a day. At least I bathe once a day!
Dinner
Original Assumption: Dinner is a family event, collective, at a table. Dinner begins with a prayer and ends with prolonged conversation.
Actuality: Dinner is SO like the US for me; it is served when everyone is home, but we don’t necessarily sit together. Many watch TV while eating (tonight, Emi and I were watching E!, and I just left while he was watching The Kardashians).
After Church, I helped make lunch with Catherine. She showed me one of her juice concoctions, which is so yummy (carrots, papya, and pineapple juice!) During lunch, Mr. Muweesi talked a bit about Uganda and what Uganda needs yet to be a more developed country. It’s so funny, because he reminds me of my dad in that he likes to lecture. He even stopped and said, “You know, I’m a lecturer...” and laughed at himself, going on about Ugandan infrastructure. It makes me feel at home, and at ease. After lunch, we watched a movie together, called “My Girlfriend’s Back,” or something like that. It was a pretty predictable movie, but it got us talking about what we thought about the situation, with the man about to get married but seeing his ex-girlfriend. We seemed to have the same convictions throughout the movie.
During the movie, Caty painted my fingernails. I was confused at first, and thought she was going to paint my toenails, but I think my feet grossed her out. She commented that my red nails look so nice with my pale skin, and I talked about how I was slowly becoming darker and darker--which is what I want. I think she is not proud of her dark skin.
After my manicure, we went on a walk, to make sure that I knew my way to and from the LTCC. It’s really so close, and so close to the bar. We walked up and around the backs of some houses, and we came upon an area that is very wealthy, and very secure (barbed wire, broken glass and all jigged up with an electric current). Some of the walls around the houses were so high that we couldn’t even ogle at them. I led the way back, because I had to practice getting around. On our way back, we ran into the missionaries from LTCC that we met, who was being taken to the Fuelex by Grace, one of the cooks. We stopped to say hi, and I told Caty about how Grace really showed us up at the dance party. Continuing on, we also ran into Ryan, who was walking with his younger (home stay) brother. I hope he’s doing well...I’m so lucky to have someone my age, who speaks English, in the house.
Tomorrow is our first day back at classes, coming from our home stay families. We’ll see how that goes.
Original assumption: An old building, possibly with hens and goats roaming around it, no power, people who have never seen a mzungu before, having walked far distances and insistence on me giving a speech.
Actuality: A high-class tent, fit with fans, stage lights and four monitors. A stage, with a full choir and band, all lead singers fitted with mics. The chairs were like garden furniture chairs, but sliver-colored and very comfortable. Everyone was clearly suburban, having arrived in very “smart” clothes and Land Rovers or BMWs.
A muzungu, who I assumed to be about my age, greeted me and asked to check my purse. After a quick glance, she welcomed me and said something to the effect of God Bless. There where about five Ushers, showing us where to go. I received some looks, but I wasn’t the only mzungu at the church (thank goodness). The whole thing was like a very well choreographed show, and I believe that they even referred to some of their services as “shows.” One of the speakers asked for a show of hands to see who was new to the church. I very meekly raised my hand, because I didn’t want to stand out....more than I already was. I stopped raising my hand after a bit, and he kept asking, “Please! If you are new to this church, we want to welcome you! Who is here for the first time? Raise your hand high!” He kept looking at me, knowing that I was new. Oh well. The church service went on. Every song they sang had the lyrics displayed on the screens, like karaoke, so one could sing along. I just liked listening to the songs, so I kind of swayed. One thing I didn’t like about the church service was that I felt like I was watching a televangelist, asking for money. What church doesn’t ask for money? But, I wasn’t about to give money. I probably should have, as I was a guest, but I consider myself to be living on very little spending money. The woman next to me definitely noticed that I passed the collection baggies on by quickly. While one of the speakers was describing the work they’ve accomplished in the North with former boy soldiers, and how they need more money to reach their goal, she kind of poked me (I still don’t know if it was intentional or not, but it sent a message).
Water
Original Assumption: Conserve! Infrequent showers.
Actuality: Ugandans bathe at least twice a day, sometimes three times a day. Americans, therefore, can leave the impression of being dirty. I’m not doing my best. I need to bathe twice a day. At least I bathe once a day!
Dinner
Original Assumption: Dinner is a family event, collective, at a table. Dinner begins with a prayer and ends with prolonged conversation.
Actuality: Dinner is SO like the US for me; it is served when everyone is home, but we don’t necessarily sit together. Many watch TV while eating (tonight, Emi and I were watching E!, and I just left while he was watching The Kardashians).
After Church, I helped make lunch with Catherine. She showed me one of her juice concoctions, which is so yummy (carrots, papya, and pineapple juice!) During lunch, Mr. Muweesi talked a bit about Uganda and what Uganda needs yet to be a more developed country. It’s so funny, because he reminds me of my dad in that he likes to lecture. He even stopped and said, “You know, I’m a lecturer...” and laughed at himself, going on about Ugandan infrastructure. It makes me feel at home, and at ease. After lunch, we watched a movie together, called “My Girlfriend’s Back,” or something like that. It was a pretty predictable movie, but it got us talking about what we thought about the situation, with the man about to get married but seeing his ex-girlfriend. We seemed to have the same convictions throughout the movie.
During the movie, Caty painted my fingernails. I was confused at first, and thought she was going to paint my toenails, but I think my feet grossed her out. She commented that my red nails look so nice with my pale skin, and I talked about how I was slowly becoming darker and darker--which is what I want. I think she is not proud of her dark skin.
After my manicure, we went on a walk, to make sure that I knew my way to and from the LTCC. It’s really so close, and so close to the bar. We walked up and around the backs of some houses, and we came upon an area that is very wealthy, and very secure (barbed wire, broken glass and all jigged up with an electric current). Some of the walls around the houses were so high that we couldn’t even ogle at them. I led the way back, because I had to practice getting around. On our way back, we ran into the missionaries from LTCC that we met, who was being taken to the Fuelex by Grace, one of the cooks. We stopped to say hi, and I told Caty about how Grace really showed us up at the dance party. Continuing on, we also ran into Ryan, who was walking with his younger (home stay) brother. I hope he’s doing well...I’m so lucky to have someone my age, who speaks English, in the house.
Tomorrow is our first day back at classes, coming from our home stay families. We’ll see how that goes.
March 1st, 2011
Back to School
Classes this week just started with a debrief of how we are doing with our homestay families. Everyone’s experience sounds to be very different, from drunk touchy-feeling family members to servants that hold water and soap for the muzungu when he is done using the bathroom. Several people have electricity, and apparently several people watch a show called, “Hidden Passions.” I feel very lucky, because I already feel so at home with my family. However, I can’t read on how they perceive me--am I too distant? Last night, I was so exhausted that I didn’t wake up for dinner. Jaja had served me rice and beans around 5:30, and I was satisfied with that. When Mama came in to wake me up for dinner, I simply explained that I had eaten, and I’d rather sleep. Today, when I arrived home, Judith welcomed me, but then scolded me some for refusing dinner the night before. She told Jaja not to feed me before dinner so I would eat. I felt bad about that, so I’m going to make sure to eat tonight.
Classes: After our debrief yesterday, we had a language session, where we met our language teachers. The Lusoga group is with Dan, who was the teacher for the PCVTs who also speak Lusoga. We went over greetings for what feels like the 100th time, but at least I know them well now. After language and lunch, we were then taken to our schools. We’re practice teaching at Seguku Primary school. The Head Teacher, Patrick, was very straightforward and likeable. Everything he mentioned (school enrollment, government funds, staff names and duties, etc.) was all posted neatly on the wall on large pink construction paper, in very neat handwriting in “Snoman” marker. He didn’t draw things out unnecessarily, and kept time very well. The teachers all squeezed into the very tiny staff room, and introduced themselves as well. From there, we introduced ourselves to the P4-P7 classrooms. We would stand up in front of the class, and state our name and for some, state where we were from. In one room, a girl stood up and said, “We do not understand her country.” She was referring to Maggie, who had stated that she was from Wisconsin, in America.
“Oh, Wisconsin is a state. We’re all from America.” She explained.
“West-consin?” Dan asked, after we left. “Is that right?”
“No...WI-sconsin, WI.”
“West...?”
“Here, I’ll write it down...”
Back to School
Classes this week just started with a debrief of how we are doing with our homestay families. Everyone’s experience sounds to be very different, from drunk touchy-feeling family members to servants that hold water and soap for the muzungu when he is done using the bathroom. Several people have electricity, and apparently several people watch a show called, “Hidden Passions.” I feel very lucky, because I already feel so at home with my family. However, I can’t read on how they perceive me--am I too distant? Last night, I was so exhausted that I didn’t wake up for dinner. Jaja had served me rice and beans around 5:30, and I was satisfied with that. When Mama came in to wake me up for dinner, I simply explained that I had eaten, and I’d rather sleep. Today, when I arrived home, Judith welcomed me, but then scolded me some for refusing dinner the night before. She told Jaja not to feed me before dinner so I would eat. I felt bad about that, so I’m going to make sure to eat tonight.
Classes: After our debrief yesterday, we had a language session, where we met our language teachers. The Lusoga group is with Dan, who was the teacher for the PCVTs who also speak Lusoga. We went over greetings for what feels like the 100th time, but at least I know them well now. After language and lunch, we were then taken to our schools. We’re practice teaching at Seguku Primary school. The Head Teacher, Patrick, was very straightforward and likeable. Everything he mentioned (school enrollment, government funds, staff names and duties, etc.) was all posted neatly on the wall on large pink construction paper, in very neat handwriting in “Snoman” marker. He didn’t draw things out unnecessarily, and kept time very well. The teachers all squeezed into the very tiny staff room, and introduced themselves as well. From there, we introduced ourselves to the P4-P7 classrooms. We would stand up in front of the class, and state our name and for some, state where we were from. In one room, a girl stood up and said, “We do not understand her country.” She was referring to Maggie, who had stated that she was from Wisconsin, in America.
“Oh, Wisconsin is a state. We’re all from America.” She explained.
“West-consin?” Dan asked, after we left. “Is that right?”
“No...WI-sconsin, WI.”
“West...?”
“Here, I’ll write it down...”
"Oh! WIsconsin, okay okay."
In another class, the Head Teacher thought it would be fun to quiz the students on our names. We had gone through and all stated our names, then the head teacher pointed to Willysha and asked, “What is her name?”
“Mary!” They shouted confidently.
We laughed. “Willysha,” she clarified.
“Ok, now, what was her name?” Patrick asked, pointed to Maggie.
“Mary!” They replied, again confidently.
We laughed harder. “Maggie,” she clarified.
“Now, what is HER name?” He asked, finally pointing to me.
“Mary!” They sang, certain this time.
“Yes!” I said back to them. At least I have a memorable name.
The condition of the school is workable. Patrick explained that the UPE schools abide by regulations, especially the provisions stating that although schools may request students to bring supplies, they are not allowed to require any school supplies for the teachers or the classroom.
In another class, the Head Teacher thought it would be fun to quiz the students on our names. We had gone through and all stated our names, then the head teacher pointed to Willysha and asked, “What is her name?”
“Mary!” They shouted confidently.
We laughed. “Willysha,” she clarified.
“Ok, now, what was her name?” Patrick asked, pointed to Maggie.
“Mary!” They replied, again confidently.
We laughed harder. “Maggie,” she clarified.
“Now, what is HER name?” He asked, finally pointing to me.
“Mary!” They sang, certain this time.
“Yes!” I said back to them. At least I have a memorable name.
The condition of the school is workable. Patrick explained that the UPE schools abide by regulations, especially the provisions stating that although schools may request students to bring supplies, they are not allowed to require any school supplies for the teachers or the classroom.
The UPE schools never know when or how much they will be receiving from the government. So, the teachers aren’t getting paid, lunch isn’t getting paid for and there is absolutely no money for supplies. It’s been a whole month and they have yet to receive money for this school year. Hmmm... We all could understand the frustration of the Head Teacher. These are what I would call dedicated teachers--they work with what they have, and they sometimes LITERALLY work for free. I believe only one teacher was out sick. That impressed me.
The buildings are basic concrete rooms with tin roofs, chalkboards, and are complete with benches and desks. I did see some students squeezing into seats, but not too many. Glancing down at some of the students’ notes, I noticed that Ugandan children have impeccable handwriting, and copy diagrams/pictures EXACTLY and neatly. I was very impressed.
After parading through each room and introducing ourselves, we regrouped in the staff room to begin planning with teachers. Initially, during introductions, I thought the looks on the teachers’ faces were that of disdain towards us, and overall annoyance. However, after getting to chat with them and discuss lessons, they were very receptive to our visit and open to having us guest-teach. I understand that, as a teacher, it’s easy to like routine and control of the classroom, and it can be tough to hand it over to some random person, especially if that person is going to be there for only a week. So, I was surprised at HOW inviting they were. This really put my mind at ease. I sat down with Henry who teaches P6 math. There are so many sixth graders that there are two classes of them. He showed me in the textbook about where they were, which was “Addition of Numbers.” I was shocked that sixth graders would spend a whole lesson on adding, especially because the sixth grade I had come from teaching began the year with reviewing divisibility rules and prime factorization. I felt better after thumbing through the textbook and seeing the regular sixth grade math curriculum, like multiplying and dividing decimals and fractions. I only have a half hour to teach for my first lesson tomorrow, so I didn’t through in any new pedagogy really. After planning with the P6 teacher, the P4 teacher also wanted me to teach a lesson. I guess that fulfilled my three lessons, but I wasn’t sure how many more lessons the P6 teacher wanted.
The buildings are basic concrete rooms with tin roofs, chalkboards, and are complete with benches and desks. I did see some students squeezing into seats, but not too many. Glancing down at some of the students’ notes, I noticed that Ugandan children have impeccable handwriting, and copy diagrams/pictures EXACTLY and neatly. I was very impressed.
After parading through each room and introducing ourselves, we regrouped in the staff room to begin planning with teachers. Initially, during introductions, I thought the looks on the teachers’ faces were that of disdain towards us, and overall annoyance. However, after getting to chat with them and discuss lessons, they were very receptive to our visit and open to having us guest-teach. I understand that, as a teacher, it’s easy to like routine and control of the classroom, and it can be tough to hand it over to some random person, especially if that person is going to be there for only a week. So, I was surprised at HOW inviting they were. This really put my mind at ease. I sat down with Henry who teaches P6 math. There are so many sixth graders that there are two classes of them. He showed me in the textbook about where they were, which was “Addition of Numbers.” I was shocked that sixth graders would spend a whole lesson on adding, especially because the sixth grade I had come from teaching began the year with reviewing divisibility rules and prime factorization. I felt better after thumbing through the textbook and seeing the regular sixth grade math curriculum, like multiplying and dividing decimals and fractions. I only have a half hour to teach for my first lesson tomorrow, so I didn’t through in any new pedagogy really. After planning with the P6 teacher, the P4 teacher also wanted me to teach a lesson. I guess that fulfilled my three lessons, but I wasn’t sure how many more lessons the P6 teacher wanted.
Today, I started the day with fresh pineapple, hot chocolate and a bun. I’m in heaven, and I think I’m going to cry when pineapple season is over. I made my way to school, all ready for the day, (or so I thought...) The day began with Lusoga lessons. We broke for tea and re-convened to learn more about the wonderful medical mysteries that await us, hidden deep within the Ugandan soil. We learned about the dangers of swimming in fresh water, drinking milk and not ironing our clothes. Everything usually ends up with something growing on our person, or gastro-intestinal problems. We learned about mango flies, schistosomiasis, Bilzharia, worms, and something you get from unpasteurized milk (I can’t remember the name now). With that, and a brief explanation of what groups we were in for our community SES assessment, we broke for lunch. Ahh, we were so carefree, so unaware. Apparently, we were supposed to have read and processed all of the PACA book before today, and be ready to use the “tools” they provided us with. Our tool was the “Needs-Based assessment,” where we meet with a group of villagers to discuss what they feel are their needs.
We arrived, and with some of the language trainers and Irene, we communicated our goals and our purpose. The group of Lweza B community members were about 25, not including the children. After our introduction, which was translated into Lusoga, we broke into three groups. One group met with just the women, another with the men, and the last (my group) with the “youth.” When we were thinking youth, we were thinking like, teenagers. In fact, in Uganda, youth is considered to be anyone 18-35. This is why, when we finally did think to go around and get everyone’s ages, that we found that one member of our group was 34.
In our group, after we had everyone seated on benches or mats (the village men were on the benches, while the four “youth” women, each with a child, were on mats), we began. Our translator asked us to ask some questions regarding what their needs were. We were completely unprepared for this, and we had all originally thought we were going into the community to be held by the hand and given a structured introduction to using PACA tools. We made the best of our situation and pushed forth--so, what do you see as issues with the youth in the community? Stevie was our initial spokesperson, and she made sure to speak really slowly and clearly.
We arrived, and with some of the language trainers and Irene, we communicated our goals and our purpose. The group of Lweza B community members were about 25, not including the children. After our introduction, which was translated into Lusoga, we broke into three groups. One group met with just the women, another with the men, and the last (my group) with the “youth.” When we were thinking youth, we were thinking like, teenagers. In fact, in Uganda, youth is considered to be anyone 18-35. This is why, when we finally did think to go around and get everyone’s ages, that we found that one member of our group was 34.
In our group, after we had everyone seated on benches or mats (the village men were on the benches, while the four “youth” women, each with a child, were on mats), we began. Our translator asked us to ask some questions regarding what their needs were. We were completely unprepared for this, and we had all originally thought we were going into the community to be held by the hand and given a structured introduction to using PACA tools. We made the best of our situation and pushed forth--so, what do you see as issues with the youth in the community? Stevie was our initial spokesperson, and she made sure to speak really slowly and clearly.
Our meeting got rolling after the woman’s first question, and the “youth” identified their concerned to be with healthcare, (local clinics) and specifically with trained physicians. One man mentioned that the local physicians are lacking so much practice that there have been cases of physicians issuing overdoses of medicine. Another concern with healthcare is that there are simply not enough clinics, and they can’t afford to go. (The inability to afford things was a common theme). The men mentioned that a large issue with them is the lack of jobs, especially for those who dropped out of Secondary school at some point. This seems to be the root reason for several other problems, for example, not being able to afford school fees. In Uganda, school fees are small, but with the fees that go to the school are also school supplies, including a uniform. Yet another concern was water--there’s never enough, and it’s expensive, and there are no boreholes near to their part of the village. The last concern was, in sum, unity of the youth, (in a positive way). It seems that there aren’t any parks, or places to play football (read: soccer).
After re-collecting as a whole village group, we reviewed the needs. It seemed that each group identified water as being a large need. We then discussed how they could collaborate to form a group that meets weekly. There is a government program, SACCO, that will give community groups money if they have a plan and some capital to start. While discussing this, a random guy on a motorcycle showed up, and apparently asked, in Luganda, if we were people who were trying to get them to collect money so that we could take it and disappear with it. The LC explained thoroughly (in Luganda) who we are and what our mission that day was. Irene sat there and kind of smirked, and for the five minute Luganda explanation, we were all wondering what the man had said. It all made sense later. The man took off on his motorcycle.
When we all collected back at the LTCC, it seemed that the other groups felt the same way--we were completely blindsided by the exercise; however, all of the groups performed well, regardless.
After re-collecting as a whole village group, we reviewed the needs. It seemed that each group identified water as being a large need. We then discussed how they could collaborate to form a group that meets weekly. There is a government program, SACCO, that will give community groups money if they have a plan and some capital to start. While discussing this, a random guy on a motorcycle showed up, and apparently asked, in Luganda, if we were people who were trying to get them to collect money so that we could take it and disappear with it. The LC explained thoroughly (in Luganda) who we are and what our mission that day was. Irene sat there and kind of smirked, and for the five minute Luganda explanation, we were all wondering what the man had said. It all made sense later. The man took off on his motorcycle.
When we all collected back at the LTCC, it seemed that the other groups felt the same way--we were completely blindsided by the exercise; however, all of the groups performed well, regardless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)