Journal Entry No. 20

[Thank you to my grandma for reminding me I haven't posted in a while :) Love you all! xoxo]

7/26/10

9pm Iganga time-

Today Sally and I went to Jinja. It was really fun to see kind of a touristy town, since this town is so close to the source of the Nile. Once I got into the "shopping district" (which consisted of a single street with touristy shops on either side), the cries of "Mzungu" abruptly stopped! I didn't realize how much I was called a mzungu until I wasn't anymore.

I bought several trinkets for my family (and even a keychain for myself). For lunch, Sally and I ate at Cafe Ozzies (run by Australians, of course). There was a Canadian family sitting near us! For lunch, I had passionfruit juice and chapatti with avocado and chicken mmm.

After lunch I went to an internet cafe. It was way cheap! It was good to be able to email my family with a relatively fast connection.

The rest of the day was pretty normal. For dinner we had these amazing green beans. It was as if Grandma's casserole sauce and my favorite green beans had collided and mixed with rice. Yummy!!

Journal Entry No. 19

7/25/10

9pm Iganga time

Took the kids to the pool today. It was a tad bit crazy. There were 20ish kids and 10ish adults total. We decided to take the volleyball team because they had been working hard all week.

The nice part was that only the mzungus needed sunscreen.

Brian the volunteer said he was almost embarrassed to put on sunscreen in front of them, and I quite agreed.

The pool was located at a classy hotel bordering Lake Victoria. The view was absolutely beautiful. The Nile begins at Lake Victoria and they call it the "Source of the Nile".

Some of the volunteers are going to raft the Nile this weekend. I can't afford to go but it sounds like fun.

When we got to the pool, we spent the day splashing around in the shallow end. None of the kids knew how to swim, and even when we got Zubai to cross the pool (short-ways) kicking, he still wasn't comfortable to wade any farther than 5 feet deep (less than his height).

We got Emma to try holding onto the side of the pool in the deep end and kicking, but he wouldn't let go of the side. Neither would Haril or Pipih, our Ugandan chaperones.

We treated the kids to chapatti and mango juice for lunch and then headed back to the school

around 4.

Journal Entry No. 18

[Sorry for the delay---I've been home without my journal for the past few days!]

7/24/10

9pm Iganga time

There was an intruder in my bug net: a fly. How dare it.

Some of the girls decided to play beauty parlor on my hair while I was reading Berensteing Bears. I was one hip chick, that's for sure. I love having little sisters. :) Victoria gave me a bracelet and another letter today too. I'm loved. I hope the kids know how much they're loved, too. 'Cuz they really, really are...

Journal Entry No. 17

7/24/10

4:30 pm Iganga time

Ate breakfast at the cafe and relaxed for a while. Then we got restless and came to Musana.

We played volleyball for a good 3 hours; it was kind of crazy.

Once the kids saw that I could serve (well, I WAS only 15 feet away from the net), they kept asking me to serve so they could practice receiving it. They did improve. My arm died and currently resembles a wet noodle. Sam took over for me.

It was a really great way to bond with the kids on a Saturday. Especially the older ones who are usually too shy to hang out with us.

When we grew tired of volleyball, we grabbed the parachute to play with the younger kids. It was a big hit, as were the balloons we used with them. I even saw Joseph sneak one away to play with.

I hurt my foot carrying Damali; I'm worried it will keep hurting because ice here is rare. I have Advil though so I should be ok.

I love weekends here. I could never grow tired of Saturdays with the kids.

You know what else is different here? No airplanes.

PS I drank a Pepsi with sugarcane and it made me think of Brian.

:)

Journal Entry No. 16

7/24/10

7am Iganga time

I think the fact that it's so easy for me to naturally wake up so early here is partially to do with the time change and partially (more partially) to do with the fact that I actually feel I have a purpose in getting up.

Today I am going to continue attacking the termite hill. Lindsay is turning the worn-down building that resembles a Roman coliseum (but smaller of course) into an outdoor classroom. The first step in this process is to destroy the solid mud termite hill in the corner that is about 3 feet high. We decided it would be best to dump water on it to break up the dirt and then use hoes to break it up. Once the kids saw what we were doing, they immediately rushed over to help. They showed us a closer place than the boar hole to get water, waited at the open window sill to reach down and grab the bucket of water from us, and poured it on the mound. Meanwhile, others were picking away at the mound and breaking up the dirt.

There came a time when we needed more water, so I was walking to the little pond to fill up a bucket, under the empty windows. I turned around to tell Sam something and all of a sudden, a huge, shovel-sized pile of dirt fell right on top of my head! It was so funny, I couldn't help but laugh. Sam pointed out that things like that wouldn't be funny in America but here, where we don't care about dirt, it was pee-your-pants (but not really) funny.

Oh, another thing that has transformed from a nuisance into a game is our mouse infestation. These brave little buggers, with bodies no larger than our pinkies, came out from under the couches every dinnertime, hoping to snag a bite. We watched a little one literally put its front paws ON the mousetrap, and lick the peanut butter off. Sam decided to try to drop his shoe vertically on the mouse when it came to the trap next. When it did, and he did, it started flopping around so Sam had to stomp on it a few more times to kill it. The things we find amusing halfway around the world.

The Queen termite:

Journal Entry No. 15

[Note: this is a short entry because the next entry requires that I scan something in so rather than type it tonight too I'm going to have to leave you with this for now...terribly sorry. In the meantime go watch The Hurt Locker. I just did and it was awesome.]

7/23/10

Midnight ish Iganga time

Can't sleep. Went to bed too early. This bed is surprisingly comfortable given it's thinner than the height of this book. Or maybe it's just because I'm always so exhausted. Speaking of which...

Journal Entry No. 14

7/23/10

9pm Iganga time

Healthcare is odd for the children. At Musana, it consists of a 19-year-old "nurse" named Edith. The only qualification I think she has to be a nurse is the fact that she knows enough English to read the directions on the medication.

A little girl (age 5) named Najia (pronounced Nah-hee-ah) came crying to one of the volunteers a few weeks ago saying her arm hurt. They took her to Edith, who said it wasn't broken and promptly started twisting it and squeezing it. This made Najia cry even worse, so they ended up taking her to the hospital. She had broken both the bones in her arm. We took her yesterday back in for a checkup and the bones weren't setting straight in her cheap cast, so the doctor had to bend her bone back into place.

Another little girl named Angel had to get her tooth pulled today because it was infected. We had to give her "tabs" of painkiller for the rest of the day or else she would start bawling.

A older girl named Martha spent the day in Edith's cot because she had malaria. [Or so Edith said---I actually think she had menstrual cramps].

But perhaps the sickest child at Musana is Joseph. He is a ten year old boy living with polio ,a disease that crippled him very e

arly on in his life. I have sat with him every day, observing as he does, sitting so quiet and alone on his bench.

He watches the children, day after day, climbing trees, playing sports, and just being normal. Meanwhile, Joseph sits on a bench quietly, never complaining or speaking much at all. We have a sort of unspoken agreement that we are friends. Every day I sit next to him and ask him how he is doing, and he looks up at me and says, "I am fine." And then we sit.

The great thing about being a mzungu is that I am never left alone for very long; the children seem to find me. Another up-side to this is that when I am sitting with Joseph, the children flock over and Joseph becomes included in their playtime. I never knew if he was annoyed with my sitting near him so often, until today at dinner.

I was sitting by him, as usual, talking to a few of the older girls, when I felt him lean up against me. He was facing away from me, so I wasn't sure if it was by accident or not. But when I leaned away he leaned farther in. He was just barely grazing my arm, but I knew it was his way of saying he enjoyed my company. He is such a humble and modest boy. I wish there was a way to help him. I wonder if he's in pain.

Journal Entry No. 13

7/23/10

7pm Uganda time

Correction:Michael Bolton and Justin Bieber.

We ate posho and beans again for lunch. Never in my life have I valued Chalulah hot sauce more than when I eat posho and beans. I am so amazed and humbled by these children every single day.

Gideon wanted me to teach him how to make an arrowhead bracelet so I did. He worked all yesterday and today on it, adding beads and working diligently. Then he decided to give me the bracelet as a gift. These children are so lovely and selfless; it's scary to compare "civilized" children to the children raised in the streets of Iganga and see that they have better manners.

I am also continually astonished by the community here and how collaborative everyone is. But then, I suppose one would have to be, living with next to nothing. We continually have to stop and have conversations with people; Ugandan time is normal time plus a half hour of walking, talking, and interacting with children. I love how meals are shared together. I forgot how nice it is to simply eat and be with each other.

The conversations I have here are so much more meaningful than what I usually have on a daily basis. Yesterday I was sitting with a 9 year old girl named Dorothy. We were watching the older kids play volleyball, and all of a sudden she asked, "Do you have your mother? Do you have your father?" and I said "I have both". She replied, matter-of-factly, "I do not have my father." It was the first time since I've been here that I haven't had a response to something said to me. So I just put my arms around her and held her tight.

Later I asked Andrea how many children didn't have parents and she said all of them were orphans. Orphans in Uganda mean not having either one or both of your parents. If two people separate, their children are basically abandoned because that family no longer They become yesterday's news. So yes, all 79 children at Musana are either orphaned by death, disease, or divorce.

The children grew up on the streets, begging for money and pickpocketing. Musana took them in and gave them beds, clothes, and love. The sad news is we pass by dozens of children still living on the street asking us for money every day.

Journal Entry No. 12

7/23/10

8am-

This morning it was harder to wake up for some reason. I was too comfy I suppose :) I'm really liking the toast with peanut butter and jelly for breakfast. I could get used to this...

9:30am-

The music videos at the cafe make me wish I had Shazam implanted in my brain. Oh, and the only mzungu they seem to play is Michael Bolton...?

[Editor's note: I was going to do the next entry too since these two were so short but the next one is important and I feel needs its own posting. So tomorrow, my friend. Tomorrow we will read more...]

Journal Entry No. 11

7/22/10

10 pm Iganga time

Spent the morning at the cafe today and baked good stuff. After lunch I met with Haril to talk about taking the kids swimming in Jinja this weekend and it looks like it's going to work out.

After the meeting, I was reading about eight 5-year olds a story and one other kid ran in, yelled frantically in Lusoga, and sprinted off. Immediately all the kids I was reading to abandoned the fishy faces they were making (we were reading Nem0), and ran outside. When I caught up, there was a camel sitting in the middle of the field. Apparently Morris and Haril got it for the kids to ride. We spent the afternoon letting them ride it.

My favorite part was definitely when the camel would stand up and all the kids standing near it would scream, run away, and follow it as it walked off. It was the same reaction for every ride.

We ate dinner at the cafe. I had a chicken sandwich that consisted of a tomato and chicken. It was pretty good, but I was still hungry after and so I went down the street to get a Rolex [not the watch]. My first Rolex. Ahhhh, Rolex. It's chapatti with an egg omlette-type thing that had tomatoes, onions, and peppers in it. And it cost me 900 shillings, or about 50 cents!

Journal Entry No. 10-B

I'm taking a night off from journal-ing to let you all catch up. In the meantime, here are some cute videos from the trip!

Slow-moving walkway in LAX:

A Song :)

Elvis lip :)

Journal Entry No. 10

7/22/10

7am Iganga time

You know, I'm getting used to cold showers. I just pretend I'm diving into the pool at 6 in the morning. I must admit, I've never quite been in cold enough water to force a gasp out of me before.

I also love sitting in breakfast for half an hour with the rest of the house. It's a very nice way to start my day.

[Editor's note: We'd circle around toast, peanut butter, and bananas along with coffee and tea for at least an hour to sit and talk every morning.]

Journal Entry No. 9

7/21/10

10 PM Iganga time

Went to a village to make beads with the women today. Lindsay, Sam, Sam and I went with Joseph. He said we had to take bodas into the village, much to my horror.

"Bodas" are motorcycles with extra long seats that you sit on the back of and get driven places. This doesn't seem that scary, except for the fact that traffic here is similar to the hardest level of Frogger except without the lane dividers. Regardless, we made it there safely.

When we arrived, there were about 20 villagers gathered around a large baobab tree south of the crumbling church. The children were still in school; it was mostly women and a few men. The men gathered a table and two small wooden benches for the four of us, thinking we wouldn't be ok with sitting on the grass like they were.

Sitting under the tree, we began to roll the paper strips into beads. The villagers sat across from us, staring and laughing. We asked Joseph what they were laughing about and he said they thought it was funny that we were sitting on the bodas like men.

We went to the cafe after dinner (sweet potatoes, g-nuts, and mango juice), and played Taboo and Fast Scrabble. It was a fun night.

Journal Entry No. 8

7/20/10

9pm Iganga time

Well, I'm smelly.

I forgot what being clean feels like. It would be nice to shower except candles tend to burn out when water is sprayed on them. So I'll have to wait till morning.

Oh, did I mention the power's out? It's kind of rustic, actually. I'm carrying a candle around and, as volunteer Lindsay put it, "journaling by candlelight."

Dinner was delicious tonight. We had fresh mangoes, pineapples, and avocados, along with Irish potatoes, beans, rice, and cabbage. It is ironic how bland the Fanta I bought at the market tasted after eating such fresh fruits and vegetables.

I tutored Ivan today in "science". We learned about garden tools. He's a sweet kid. After school Bella, Grace and I made bracelets together and watched the boys play soccer. I still can't get over how good they are.

We're thinking about digging a new water well and putting in a purification system. We spent the morning at Sol looking it up on the (super slow and unreliable) internet. I think it could be done.

Well, it's 9:30 and I'm off to bed. These kids wear us out! I'm not homesick but I do think of them a lot.

Journal Entry No. 7

7/20/10

Afternoon Iganga time

The days being switched only affects me in the afternoons. It's so difficult to resist the urge to sleep. Ah.

We arrived at the school and played with the younger kids who were already out for lunch. One asked me if I knew Spiderman and I said of course and they were very impressed. In!

A boy ran up to Kristin, another volunteer, and said (about me), "I do not know this Mzungu, who is she?" Kristin replied, "That is Auntie Teri." So he ran up to me screaming, "AUNTIE TERI! AUNTIE TERI!" and gave me a huge hug. The rest of my day followed suit, getting so much love it was impossible to feel unwelcome.

At lunch (posho and beans), the older girls sat with me under the shade of a small tree. They made sure I had the most shade, got my food first (with a fork--Ugandans eat with their hands) and that I was enjoying myself. I still, after four meals, cannot get over the hospitality of the children.

I was standing in line with a boy named Vin today and he refused to stand in front of me, insisting I go first. Near the front of the line an older girl, Marcia, was waiting with a plate full of posho, beans, and a fork.

When I sat down again, all the young children came to sit with (and on) me. They love teaching me Lusoga, their language. Maria, a girl of about thirteen, asked what "Ubuntu" meant (my tattoo). When I explained the philosophy of the word and that it was in Swahili, she said, "Ah! Muntu!" In her language, the philosophy is known as "muntu".

After lunch the girls still had a while to rest before classes began, so they took my hand and led me to their dormitory, the "Victory House". There are about thirty girls staying in this dorm, and above each bed is a colorful mosquito net. It was only after I left that I realized the entire dorm was only slightly bigger than my bedroom.

The girls asked me what my favorite subject in school was and I attempted to explain to them what psychology was. They said they were only in primary school (even though most were over the age of 12) and that they didn't get to learn such cool subjects.

Then Maria said, "What is your name?" and I told her she knew my name was Auntie Teri. She smiled and replied, "No! Your name is Kwagala. Means 'love'."

And from then on, every time one of the children said my name, I was to respond something along the lines of "quanti mama okopatch", which basically means "That's my name, it is beautiful, what's up?". The kids LOVED saying this to me. And I didn't mind in the slightest. :)

One of the volunteers bought all the children sodas to go with dinner. Boy, did they ever have sugar rushes! Pipih gave Sam and I soda called "Stoney Tangawizi", which was spicy! It had ginger in it. It was like a cross between ginger ale and lemonade but warm and burned a little. Still not sure how I felt about it...

Journal Entry No. 6

7/20/10

7 am Iganga time

The loans were meant to give them a start on a new life. Ben gave them to people he sincerely thought wouldn't waste the money but rather invest it and eventually pay them back. He told us the average Ugandan makes around 3000 shillings a day (around $1.50 USD). Andrea (one of the Musana founders) thinks it's even less; the villagers we live around live on next to nothing.

After the cafe we went to the post office where Sally mailed a letter to the US. She said she didn't care how long it took to get there, just that she liked getting the stamps.

We then returned to Musana, along the way being called "Mzungus" and giving Bongas to every child who walked by. We stopped for chapatti, a type of deep-fried crepe, if you will. It was delicious, even if we were being rude because Ugandans think it's improper to eat and walk. They believe eating is a time to enjoy life and food and to pause from the daily grind. Speaking of eating, I'm gonna grab some breakfast before there's none left!

The breakfast/dinner/lounge/living/mouse-dwelling area of the volunteer house...

Journal Entry No. 5

7/19/10

10 pm Iganga time

Wow...what a first day. So much love was around us from the minute we left the house and began our walk to Musana. Sam described it as feeling like a celebrity, walking to and from the home.

My day began with a breakfast of a piece of toast with peanut butter and a banana. I scooped way too many leaves into my tea and it was grainy but still delicious.

We walked to the home and were greeted by children screaming "MZUNGU!!" and running up to us to give us hugs along the way. "Mzungu" means white person, or ghost. We were amazed and taken aback by the sheer love these children poured out on us. We weren't expecting to be welcomed so warmly by the people of the village. Every new bend of the road brought with it 4-10 children sprinting up to give us "bongas" and to knock our wind out with hugs. [Bongas are fist bumps]. "Mzungubonga" is in my permanent vocabulary now, and I believe it is my name.

On our walk over Sally told us the Ugandans don't have a greeting that is just "Hello". They say a word that is translated as, "Hi, how are you doing?". And the amazing thing is that they are genuinely asking us. In America you say "Hi" in order to pass by more quickly. Saying "how are you?" doesn't even require a response. It's rude to even pass by here without acknowledging every person around you.

The walk set the stage for the rest of the day. After going to Musana and talking with the other

volunteers, Sally took us into town. We went to the cafe owned by Musana and met a guy named Ben who was here to give loans to promising Ugandans.

(I fell asleep accidentally after writing that. Woops.)

[that footnote was actually in my journal] .

Journal Entry No. 4

7/18/10

11 pm Iganga time

We arrived in Iganga around 10pm tonight. Driving from Entebbe International Airport to Iganga took longer than planned because we were delayed and there was a TON of traffic.

We landed in Entebbe just before sunset. Landing on the strip was surreal; if not for the fact that the mountains were smaller and more rounded, I might've thought the pilot had mistakenly taken us back home. The air was perfect: warm but not to the point of being uncomfortable. It had a sweet taste to it, like a thousand mangoes had just rained down their juices before we landed and walked out onto the tarmac.

We were picked up by Sally (the volunteer coordinator) and Abdallah (the driver) in a right sided car! and headed out just as the clouds were turning pink. Driving through

Entebbe and then Kampala was an odd experience. It felt like the country had been waiting for me. I didn't feel like I was in a strange new place but rather like I was visiting a friend. The type of friend you don't really remember but you remember the fact that you were close and when you see them it's strange but not uncomfortable.

Likewise, looking out the window didn't seem like I was looking at brand new sights, but rather familiar scenes I had been reading about for 5 years come to life in front of me. It was...well...comforting, in a way.

I am grateful for the net above my head in my bunk as I write this and the bed under my body. To sleep in a horizontal position will be a treat.

Well, it's time to sleep. Gonna meet the kids tomorrow. Gotta remember why we're here :)