So, I was going to post about my research trip to Gitarama that I have done this week. I started writing about it but I am just too distracted to write about it. As of today, I have just 17 days left in Africa! I cannot believe that in just a little over 2 weeks I will be boarding a plane for the U.S. I am going to miss a lot here but I am definitely looking forward to being home. In fact, in this moment I am so excited to be home that while I try to write about my wonderful experiences I have had here this week, all I can think about is being home. So, instead of trying to force an entry about the wonderful little village of Cyeza that I am working in, I am going to give you a list of things I can't wait to experience when I get home. Maybe I will tell you about Cyeza another day.
Here it is, my list of things I love about our country and can't wait to be home to. Please keep in mind that it is by no means comprehensive, nor is it in any particular order.
text messaging
paved roads
traffic laws
hot showers with movable shower heads
Maple, Oak, and Pine trees
bubble baths
Gavin
baking
American enthusiasm
snow
sermons from pastors with a seminary background
Hunnybunch and Shasta
being able to blend into a crowd
snowmobiling with my Daddy
the rest of my clothes in my closet
sledding
comfy pillows
watching movies with my Messiah friends
drinking from a faucet
cars driving on the right side of the road
board games with my family
Christmas cookies
walks by the Yellow Breeches
driving
I think food should have a section all on its own.
Foods I miss and look forward to:
french toast
stir fries with yummy sauces
pierogies
shrimp
honey mustard sauce
Quaker's instant oatmeal
cream of wheat
granola bars
wheat bread
strawberry milkshakes
veggie burgers
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Genocide
I need to apologize for how long it has been since my last update. I know there are many people who want to know what's going on in my life so I should be updating more often. I haven't written partly because I have been busy with classes but also because I haven't known how to write about a lot of what has been going on. More specifically, a huge part of all that I've been learning and thinking about has to do with the genocide and I just don't know what to write about it. I think I am ready to try though. I want to tell about two genocide memorials we visited. Both were at churches, where people went fourteen years ago to seek refuge from the mass killings that were happening all across the country. They went there thinking it was the only place they could be safe. Even in a church though, there was no refuge.
The first church we visited is called Nyamara. I had fallen asleep on the ride there and woke up groggily to some children running alongside our van yelling and waving as we arrived. We all smiled and waved at them. We climbed out of the van and sauntered towards the church building. We had been told that at this church 3,000 people were killed. I definitely was not prepared for what I was about to see.
My first sight as we walked into the church was skulls--hundreds and hundreds of human skulls lined up on shelves that went all the way up to the ceiling. Some of them were so tiny, the remnants of small children who were killed mercilessly along with their innocent parents. Many of the skulls had holes pierced at the temple or back of the head, likely deadly machete blows from their murderers.
After the initial shock of seeing the skulls of thousands of murdered people, I looked around the rest of what was once a sanctuary. The pews were still there and untouched. In a few places in the walls, there were huge holes from grenades. The murderers and victims alike were from the Nyamara community. They were neighbors, some friends even. They had once lived, worked, and worshiped alongside one another. But the labels of Hutu and Tutsi became lines of division and of hatred, and Hutus murdered their Tutsi neighbors. They had entered the church with machetes and clubs to beat and hack thousands of people to death. Then to finish them off, they threw some grenades into the sanctuary.
The walls were covered with the clothing of the victims. There was nothing separating us from the realness of what we were seeing. There were no glass encasings, no plastic sheets with facts written on them. We could walk up to the walls and touch the bloody, decomposing clothes of the people killed there. We could smell everything--the thick, old smell of blood and dirt. At the front of the sanctuary were shelves of the people's belongings. Books, blankets, and shoes were separated and thrown into heaps of similar items. I stood and stared at all the shoes for a while. There were so many of them--sneakers and converse and heels and flats. I saw a little girl's black buckled dress shoe strewn across the shelf with hundreds of others. A little girl who could fit that shoe was probably about six years old. Six years old and murdered because she bore the ethnic label of Tutsi.
The lady running the memorial told us about how many of the killers still live right in the community. Many of them were never convicted and many of them have already served their jail time and have been released. We asked if they ever visited the memorial. She said they did not. As we got back into the van, the same children we saw upon entering ran from their homes to wave at us again. This time some of their parents came to the road too. I couldn't help but wonder where they had been fourteen years ago. What part did they play? And what did those kids know about the genocide? What did their parents teach them about it?
We drove right from there to Nyamata, another church. We were told that this area was one of the worst areas for the genocide. Over 10,000 people were killed. Still today they are finding the remains of people who were murdered and left on the side of the road, in a ditch, or in a pit latrine. In the church, victims' clothes were everywhere. They were piled two feet high on every pew and two feet high on the floors along the walls. Sweaters, coats, jeans, skirts, blankets, shoes, and tee shirts were all thrown together and heaped around the room. Some of them were covered in blood and again, the smell was overwhelming. Looking at all the clothes I learned from the number or coats and blankets that it must have been a cold April that the genocide happened during.
I felt so overwhelmed by the death around me. Not just death though, but innocent death caused by the hatred of humanity. How could one group of people dehumanize another group of people to the point that they could think it their duty to exterminate them? How could anyone have such a sense of superiority over another human being? How, when we are all God's children, beautifully made in His image, can we deny that beauty in a group of people? As I tried to take everything in, I leaned up against a column in the sanctuary. I pressed my cheek up against the cold stone and wondered who, fourteen years ago, huddled up against that same column as the killers barged into the church yelling and waving their machetes. Was it a mother holding her children against her, trying to shelter them? Was it an old man terrified of what had come of his community? Was it a little boy filled with dreams of the future? I can only imagine the terror the people must have felt when they realized death was upon them.
Learning about the genocide is a lot to take in. I don't understand how humanity is capable of such evil, because I believe we are all essentially the same. We are learning a lot about the hatred and evil of humanity but we are also learning about reconciliation and hope. I would write about those things but this entry is getting really long. So I will save that for another day. Maybe I shouldn't leave you with only dark thoughts and stories, but the Rwandan genocide was undeniably a very dark time, surely one of the darkest points in our human story.
The first church we visited is called Nyamara. I had fallen asleep on the ride there and woke up groggily to some children running alongside our van yelling and waving as we arrived. We all smiled and waved at them. We climbed out of the van and sauntered towards the church building. We had been told that at this church 3,000 people were killed. I definitely was not prepared for what I was about to see.
My first sight as we walked into the church was skulls--hundreds and hundreds of human skulls lined up on shelves that went all the way up to the ceiling. Some of them were so tiny, the remnants of small children who were killed mercilessly along with their innocent parents. Many of the skulls had holes pierced at the temple or back of the head, likely deadly machete blows from their murderers.
After the initial shock of seeing the skulls of thousands of murdered people, I looked around the rest of what was once a sanctuary. The pews were still there and untouched. In a few places in the walls, there were huge holes from grenades. The murderers and victims alike were from the Nyamara community. They were neighbors, some friends even. They had once lived, worked, and worshiped alongside one another. But the labels of Hutu and Tutsi became lines of division and of hatred, and Hutus murdered their Tutsi neighbors. They had entered the church with machetes and clubs to beat and hack thousands of people to death. Then to finish them off, they threw some grenades into the sanctuary.
The walls were covered with the clothing of the victims. There was nothing separating us from the realness of what we were seeing. There were no glass encasings, no plastic sheets with facts written on them. We could walk up to the walls and touch the bloody, decomposing clothes of the people killed there. We could smell everything--the thick, old smell of blood and dirt. At the front of the sanctuary were shelves of the people's belongings. Books, blankets, and shoes were separated and thrown into heaps of similar items. I stood and stared at all the shoes for a while. There were so many of them--sneakers and converse and heels and flats. I saw a little girl's black buckled dress shoe strewn across the shelf with hundreds of others. A little girl who could fit that shoe was probably about six years old. Six years old and murdered because she bore the ethnic label of Tutsi.
The lady running the memorial told us about how many of the killers still live right in the community. Many of them were never convicted and many of them have already served their jail time and have been released. We asked if they ever visited the memorial. She said they did not. As we got back into the van, the same children we saw upon entering ran from their homes to wave at us again. This time some of their parents came to the road too. I couldn't help but wonder where they had been fourteen years ago. What part did they play? And what did those kids know about the genocide? What did their parents teach them about it?
We drove right from there to Nyamata, another church. We were told that this area was one of the worst areas for the genocide. Over 10,000 people were killed. Still today they are finding the remains of people who were murdered and left on the side of the road, in a ditch, or in a pit latrine. In the church, victims' clothes were everywhere. They were piled two feet high on every pew and two feet high on the floors along the walls. Sweaters, coats, jeans, skirts, blankets, shoes, and tee shirts were all thrown together and heaped around the room. Some of them were covered in blood and again, the smell was overwhelming. Looking at all the clothes I learned from the number or coats and blankets that it must have been a cold April that the genocide happened during.
I felt so overwhelmed by the death around me. Not just death though, but innocent death caused by the hatred of humanity. How could one group of people dehumanize another group of people to the point that they could think it their duty to exterminate them? How could anyone have such a sense of superiority over another human being? How, when we are all God's children, beautifully made in His image, can we deny that beauty in a group of people? As I tried to take everything in, I leaned up against a column in the sanctuary. I pressed my cheek up against the cold stone and wondered who, fourteen years ago, huddled up against that same column as the killers barged into the church yelling and waving their machetes. Was it a mother holding her children against her, trying to shelter them? Was it an old man terrified of what had come of his community? Was it a little boy filled with dreams of the future? I can only imagine the terror the people must have felt when they realized death was upon them.
Learning about the genocide is a lot to take in. I don't understand how humanity is capable of such evil, because I believe we are all essentially the same. We are learning a lot about the hatred and evil of humanity but we are also learning about reconciliation and hope. I would write about those things but this entry is getting really long. So I will save that for another day. Maybe I shouldn't leave you with only dark thoughts and stories, but the Rwandan genocide was undeniably a very dark time, surely one of the darkest points in our human story.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Kigali
Settling into Kigali, Rwanda has been going quite smoothly. The place we are staying at is wonderful and my first impressions of this city are very positive. We are staying at the compound of FH's regional director, who is also one of our professors. I am staying off of the main house in a guesthouse. We have electricity, wireless internet, a flushing toilet, and American food, so we are all quite comfortable. We also have two big dogs and four puppies to play with!
So far I like Kigali better than I liked Kampala. One of Rwanda's national languages is French so it's fun being able to use my French. Today I got to have a few conversations in French with vendors at the market. In Kigali, people don't yell out at us and harass us like they do in Kampala. They stare at us because we are different but they are respectful. This city is clean and less chaotic than Kampala. It's so much less stressful walking around Kigali than Kampala. Kigali is also more developed, with more businesses and nicer architecture. Don't get me wrong, I loved my time in Kampala, but I feel more comfortable here.
I am looking forward to spending time and learning in a city that has overcome a genocide to grow into a beautiful and thriving place. Before coming here I wondered about how prevalent talk would be about the genocide, with it now being fourteen years since the 800,000 people were murdered. In many ways, the country is hush hush about their dark past. Talk of Hutu/Tutsi identification is a social faux pas and everyone is just considered Rwandan. It seems like the genocide isn't brought up much but there are reminders here and there. There are genocide memorials, a time of memorial in April, and lots of NGOs with words like "peace" and "reconciliation" to remind everyone of what Rwanda has survived. There are also still some buildings with bullet holes that still have yet to be repaired.
While we are here we will be taking a class called Issues in Peacebuilding, in which we will study the genocide. We are also taking a class on Community Development. Both should be really good classes.
I know that the violence taking place in the Congo has worried some people about my safety. I want to assure everyone that we are very safe here in Kigali. The things happening in the Congo are really bad. If it gives you any idea of the security of Kigali though, the expatriates who are being evacuated from the Congo are being sent to Kigali. Rwanda won't get involved in the fighting that is happening, so Kigali will be safe. If somehow things did become insecure here, there is an airport right in Kigali and FH would have us leave at the first sign of danger.
The fighting occurring in the Congo is not something to be glossed over though. While we are not affected here in Kigali, thousands of people are being affected. I have been amazed and disturbed by how little attention our media gives to countries who don't have direct relevance to the U.S. I have been convicted to learn more about what is happening to people around the world, because everyone's humanity is sacred regardless of nationality, ethnic tribe, or social class. I don't know what we can do about these huge problems like what is happening in the Congo, but I know that it starts with being aware that there is a problem.
So this is the next part of my adventure. We will be here in Kigali for five weeks. Our time will mostly be spent taking classes, visiting genocide memorials around the country, and exploring Kigali.
So far I like Kigali better than I liked Kampala. One of Rwanda's national languages is French so it's fun being able to use my French. Today I got to have a few conversations in French with vendors at the market. In Kigali, people don't yell out at us and harass us like they do in Kampala. They stare at us because we are different but they are respectful. This city is clean and less chaotic than Kampala. It's so much less stressful walking around Kigali than Kampala. Kigali is also more developed, with more businesses and nicer architecture. Don't get me wrong, I loved my time in Kampala, but I feel more comfortable here.
I am looking forward to spending time and learning in a city that has overcome a genocide to grow into a beautiful and thriving place. Before coming here I wondered about how prevalent talk would be about the genocide, with it now being fourteen years since the 800,000 people were murdered. In many ways, the country is hush hush about their dark past. Talk of Hutu/Tutsi identification is a social faux pas and everyone is just considered Rwandan. It seems like the genocide isn't brought up much but there are reminders here and there. There are genocide memorials, a time of memorial in April, and lots of NGOs with words like "peace" and "reconciliation" to remind everyone of what Rwanda has survived. There are also still some buildings with bullet holes that still have yet to be repaired.
While we are here we will be taking a class called Issues in Peacebuilding, in which we will study the genocide. We are also taking a class on Community Development. Both should be really good classes.
I know that the violence taking place in the Congo has worried some people about my safety. I want to assure everyone that we are very safe here in Kigali. The things happening in the Congo are really bad. If it gives you any idea of the security of Kigali though, the expatriates who are being evacuated from the Congo are being sent to Kigali. Rwanda won't get involved in the fighting that is happening, so Kigali will be safe. If somehow things did become insecure here, there is an airport right in Kigali and FH would have us leave at the first sign of danger.
The fighting occurring in the Congo is not something to be glossed over though. While we are not affected here in Kigali, thousands of people are being affected. I have been amazed and disturbed by how little attention our media gives to countries who don't have direct relevance to the U.S. I have been convicted to learn more about what is happening to people around the world, because everyone's humanity is sacred regardless of nationality, ethnic tribe, or social class. I don't know what we can do about these huge problems like what is happening in the Congo, but I know that it starts with being aware that there is a problem.
So this is the next part of my adventure. We will be here in Kigali for five weeks. Our time will mostly be spent taking classes, visiting genocide memorials around the country, and exploring Kigali.
Lions and Tigers and Bears-Oh My!
First, I would like to say that the title of this post is for the enjoyment of my mother, who is quite the Wizard of Oz fan. That being said, last week we all went on a safari for three days in Queen Elizabeth Park in Western Uganda. We saw so many animals and it was so much fun. We didn't even need to leave the hostel we were staying in to see mongoose, wart hogs, monitor lizards, and a wide variety of birds. At dinner one night a mongoose tried climbing up my chair to beg for food! One of the wart hogs in our yard seemed especially friendly so my friend Meghan and I pet it. Pumba from the Lion King may give an adorable portrayal of wart hogs but they are really pretty ugly animals. Their skin is so rough and their hair is like wire. They are the sort of animal that is so ugly that it's endearing.
At dawn and dusk we went on game drives, where we piled into a bus and looked at all the animals. We saw Ugandan cobs (which are like antelope), waterbuck, elephants, buffalo, spider monkeys, baboons, wart hogs, hippos, and lions. We saw a whole family of elephants at one point and they were pretty close up. One day we saw three lionesses with four cubs and the next day we saw a lioness eating a cob. We also saw some male lions and they were the most beautiful animals I have ever seen.
We also went on a boat ride through a channel connecting two lakes and saw hippos, water buffalo, crocodiles, monitor lizards, and lots of birds. We got soooo close to the hippos! It was kind of scary because hippos kill more humans than any other animal does. I really like the hippos though. I think they were my favorite. They live harmoniously with the water buffalo, which I thought was very sweet.
We had some interesting, and maybe a little scary, run ins with the animals. A couple of us decided to go for a walk one day. We were walking like ten minutes into the park and saw a herd of buffalo. We were enjoying looking at them at first but then they started acting threatened and came toward us. We walked very briskly in the other direction. Buffalo apparently are very territorial animals and we were in their territory. It was pretty intimidating.
One night all of us were in the hostel watching a movie. We kept hearing something moving outside the window but decided it was just the wart hogs. Eventually one of us stood up and looked out the window, to see a whole family of elephants just five feet from the house! We had been watching our movie while all along, elephants were traveling right past our house to go get water. It was one of the coolest things that I've ever experienced. Unfortunately, the story ends with some of my friends getting charged at by a mother elephant because they went onto the porch to see them closer. Everyone was fine but the moral of the story is to stay inside when your house is surrounded by elephants.
Our last night on safari, we went out to eat dinner at the fancy lodge in the park. It was sooo nice and I felt sooo spoiled. The place was gorgeous, complete with a terrace outside and a private bungalow. We had a buffet, with a dessert bar! I know it can't sound too exciting from home but let me tell you how exciting it was to see so many pastas and sauces and seven dessert options after spending a month in the middle of nowhere.
We left for Rwanda on Tuesday morning. It was quite a long drive but the view was breathtaking. Rwanda's green, rolling hills are gorgeous. Tuesday night we arrived at the next stop in our journey--Kigali, Rwanda.
At dawn and dusk we went on game drives, where we piled into a bus and looked at all the animals. We saw Ugandan cobs (which are like antelope), waterbuck, elephants, buffalo, spider monkeys, baboons, wart hogs, hippos, and lions. We saw a whole family of elephants at one point and they were pretty close up. One day we saw three lionesses with four cubs and the next day we saw a lioness eating a cob. We also saw some male lions and they were the most beautiful animals I have ever seen.
We also went on a boat ride through a channel connecting two lakes and saw hippos, water buffalo, crocodiles, monitor lizards, and lots of birds. We got soooo close to the hippos! It was kind of scary because hippos kill more humans than any other animal does. I really like the hippos though. I think they were my favorite. They live harmoniously with the water buffalo, which I thought was very sweet.
We had some interesting, and maybe a little scary, run ins with the animals. A couple of us decided to go for a walk one day. We were walking like ten minutes into the park and saw a herd of buffalo. We were enjoying looking at them at first but then they started acting threatened and came toward us. We walked very briskly in the other direction. Buffalo apparently are very territorial animals and we were in their territory. It was pretty intimidating.
One night all of us were in the hostel watching a movie. We kept hearing something moving outside the window but decided it was just the wart hogs. Eventually one of us stood up and looked out the window, to see a whole family of elephants just five feet from the house! We had been watching our movie while all along, elephants were traveling right past our house to go get water. It was one of the coolest things that I've ever experienced. Unfortunately, the story ends with some of my friends getting charged at by a mother elephant because they went onto the porch to see them closer. Everyone was fine but the moral of the story is to stay inside when your house is surrounded by elephants.
Our last night on safari, we went out to eat dinner at the fancy lodge in the park. It was sooo nice and I felt sooo spoiled. The place was gorgeous, complete with a terrace outside and a private bungalow. We had a buffet, with a dessert bar! I know it can't sound too exciting from home but let me tell you how exciting it was to see so many pastas and sauces and seven dessert options after spending a month in the middle of nowhere.
We left for Rwanda on Tuesday morning. It was quite a long drive but the view was breathtaking. Rwanda's green, rolling hills are gorgeous. Tuesday night we arrived at the next stop in our journey--Kigali, Rwanda.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Leaving Kyoga
Wednesday afternoon I came back to the world of consistent electricity, hot showers, and the Internet. I was very surprised by how overwhelmed I was to be back. Maybe it was the hundreds of emails and the dozens of facebook notifications I had to sort through, but being on the Internet after so long was so overwhelming. Not having to think about charging my phone and laptop because of power shortages is strange. I got so used to my rotation of 4 skirts that now my eight skirts and three pairs of pants seem completely excessive. It is wonderful though to be allowed to wear pants again! It is very nice to have a shower and feel like my hair is actually clean for the first time in a month. I never did end up taking a shower when we visited Kampala. It is also so nice to be back with everyone else on our program. I missed them all a lot and it's wonderful to hear about everyone's experiences.
The rest of my time on practicum was extremely challenging, but overall good. It was definitely a great experience, but also one of the most difficult experiences of my life. It was really hard feeling like all anyone saw when they looked at me was that I am a muzungu. Having flocks of children screaming "muzungu, muzungu!" and crowding around me to touch my hair and feel my skin wherever I went just became too much at times. Allison and I were the only white people in the community, so it was pretty alienating. We felt misunderstood, and even disrespected, most days. Some of the living conditions were also challenging. I was perfectly content without electricity and whatnot but our freedom was very limited in Kyoga. We weren't allowed out much at all and feeling so confined was really hard for me.
I definitely take away some amazing lessons and memories from my time on practicum. I met people that I will never forget and heard stories of struggle that will stay with me for the rest of my life, I am sure. I was welcomed so warmly and enthusiastically into the communities I worked in. Many of the people I met send their greetings to everyone I love at home. The homes I visited often gave me gifts of eggs, jack fruit, milk, and sugar cane. These gifts were not just simple gifts for them though, but sacrifices of their only sources of income for their families. Their sacrificial generosity was so moving. One lady even tried giving me her kitten because I liked it so much but I had to say no since I wasn't sure how bringing a pet back to the guesthouse would go over.
Throughout the month, I visited officials at the district and county levels, held three community meetings, visited many families' homes, led a couple of children's Bible clubs, visited schools, and led a career guidance session for high school kids. Still my favorite thing to do was visit people in their homes, where they felt comfortable and were more open to share with me about their lives. It's a bit intimidating after meeting with so many people and being in the community for so long to now be writing a report on what I think the greatest needs are and how Food for the Hungry can meet those needs. It's no longer just writing about community development but my report will influence how FH will affect families I know and have come to love. FH is leaving Mukono in 2012 and I worry about how families will do after that. I don't know how parents will put their kids through school or bring in enough money to sustain their families. I pray that a lot of change happens in those communities by 2012, so they will be ready to function without FH.
It's weird to be leaving that part of the semester. It was such an intense experience that most days I couldn't remember life before Kyoga and couldn't imagine leaving. So it's strange to be moving on to something new, though I am ready. Tomorrow we leave for a safari in Queen Elizabeth Game Park then we will head for Rwanda. I will be in Rwanda for 5 weeks taking classes on community development and peace-building. We will be living in Kigali, the capital city, and will be staying at a guesthouse similar to the one we stay at in Kampala. I will have Internet much more consistently again and will update my blog more regularly. Thank you so much to everyone who leaves me comments on here. They are so encouraging and it helps to know who is reading. In case anyone wants to send me anything, I will have a new address in Rwanda. It is:
Rachel Kleinow
P.O. Box 911
Kigali, Rwanda
Well, I need to spend the rest of the day working on my needs assessment. Hopefully I can finish today so I can just enjoy Kigali when we get there. I hope all is well at home!
The rest of my time on practicum was extremely challenging, but overall good. It was definitely a great experience, but also one of the most difficult experiences of my life. It was really hard feeling like all anyone saw when they looked at me was that I am a muzungu. Having flocks of children screaming "muzungu, muzungu!" and crowding around me to touch my hair and feel my skin wherever I went just became too much at times. Allison and I were the only white people in the community, so it was pretty alienating. We felt misunderstood, and even disrespected, most days. Some of the living conditions were also challenging. I was perfectly content without electricity and whatnot but our freedom was very limited in Kyoga. We weren't allowed out much at all and feeling so confined was really hard for me.
I definitely take away some amazing lessons and memories from my time on practicum. I met people that I will never forget and heard stories of struggle that will stay with me for the rest of my life, I am sure. I was welcomed so warmly and enthusiastically into the communities I worked in. Many of the people I met send their greetings to everyone I love at home. The homes I visited often gave me gifts of eggs, jack fruit, milk, and sugar cane. These gifts were not just simple gifts for them though, but sacrifices of their only sources of income for their families. Their sacrificial generosity was so moving. One lady even tried giving me her kitten because I liked it so much but I had to say no since I wasn't sure how bringing a pet back to the guesthouse would go over.
Throughout the month, I visited officials at the district and county levels, held three community meetings, visited many families' homes, led a couple of children's Bible clubs, visited schools, and led a career guidance session for high school kids. Still my favorite thing to do was visit people in their homes, where they felt comfortable and were more open to share with me about their lives. It's a bit intimidating after meeting with so many people and being in the community for so long to now be writing a report on what I think the greatest needs are and how Food for the Hungry can meet those needs. It's no longer just writing about community development but my report will influence how FH will affect families I know and have come to love. FH is leaving Mukono in 2012 and I worry about how families will do after that. I don't know how parents will put their kids through school or bring in enough money to sustain their families. I pray that a lot of change happens in those communities by 2012, so they will be ready to function without FH.
It's weird to be leaving that part of the semester. It was such an intense experience that most days I couldn't remember life before Kyoga and couldn't imagine leaving. So it's strange to be moving on to something new, though I am ready. Tomorrow we leave for a safari in Queen Elizabeth Game Park then we will head for Rwanda. I will be in Rwanda for 5 weeks taking classes on community development and peace-building. We will be living in Kigali, the capital city, and will be staying at a guesthouse similar to the one we stay at in Kampala. I will have Internet much more consistently again and will update my blog more regularly. Thank you so much to everyone who leaves me comments on here. They are so encouraging and it helps to know who is reading. In case anyone wants to send me anything, I will have a new address in Rwanda. It is:
Rachel Kleinow
P.O. Box 911
Kigali, Rwanda
Well, I need to spend the rest of the day working on my needs assessment. Hopefully I can finish today so I can just enjoy Kigali when we get there. I hope all is well at home!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Rural Uganda
Yay for the Internet!! As Gavin wrote, the conditions in Mukono have been a bit different from what I was expecting. Our electricity was broken for the first week. We still have shortages and only have electricity about 50% of the time. Right now I am writing from the Kampala guesthouse I stayed in last month. Allison, the other student I am working in Mukono with, and I are visiting for the day. We have only had the Internet in Mukono once since we have been there. We decided to come back here for the day to use the Internet, take a real shower, and do some shopping. We are doing fine without the power but it is nice to have a little break from that.
In Mukono, we are living at the FH office with a couple of other staff members. Allison and I have our own bedroom, which we also often share with a gecko we named Frank. The guard and his two sons, Stephen (age 8) and Moses (age 7), live here too. Allison and I are completely in love with those boys. We play with them most days when we get home from work. We let them play with our cameras, draw and color with them, and have showed them my Disney DVDs on Allison's laptop. They really liked watching Peter Pan. They couldn't understand a lot of it because English isn't their first language but they loved the idea of kids being able to fly.
The food here is surprisingly good. We have not had to eat much matooke so I am pleased. They also are surprisingly okay with me being a vegetarian. We usually have rice for every meal with either beans, peas, peanut sauce, or fish. We also usually have white potatoes and cabbage. Sometimes we have spinach or sweet potatoes instead of white potatoes. The only bad thing about the food here is that we have milk tea about three times a day. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so hot outside and if the milk wasn't often chunky. We have tried explaining that Americans don't drink so much tea but they just can't believe that is possible, so they keep making it for us. They also can't believe Americans could possibly dislike Wheatabix, this cereal that tastes and looks exactly like cardboard that we are expected to consume each morning. Our supervisor was appalled that we don't like the stuff, because a couple from England who visited before liked it. Allison tried explaining that America and England are vastly different but she didn't seem to think that was possible either.
Since we often don't have power, Allison and I have gotten used to using a lantern at night. We also don't have running water so we are getting used to bucket bathing. I never feel quite as clean as I would like to, but I'm getting used to it. We have a Western-style toilet out back but it just drops into a hole in the ground. The toilet is usually covered with a couple dozen little black flies, and toilet paper is hit or miss, so we use it as infrequently as humanly possible.
The work I have been doing so far is really good. It is really challenging, but it's good. I am doing a needs assessment so I have mostly been interviewing families in their homes about their struggles, and meeting with community leaders to talk about community needs. I have also spent some time at one of the schools. My favorite is visiting people's homes and talking with them. I prefer talking one on one with people who are living in poverty rather than either meeting with lots of people at once or talking with community leaders who are middle class. Most of the families I talk with have up around eight kids and maybe two or three are sponsored by FH. The sponsored ones go to school but the families usually struggle to send the others. Finding clean water and finding work to do are also common struggles for people here.
We will be working in three communities for practicum: Kyoga (the community we live in), Musombwa, and Namasumbi. Mostly I will be continuing to do home visit interviews, interviews with community leaders, and working on the actual report for my needs assessment. I will also be doing some children's Bible clubs and women's Bible studies here and there. Last week, Allison and I went to a chapel at school and were asked fifteen minutes beforehand to speak. It was kind of hilarious. We were expected to speak for an hour about values and goals. I think we made it for about thirty then the guy in charged expounded on what we said for another half hour. We have already been forewarned that this Sunday we will be expected to preach, so at least we have the chance to prepare this time.
Well that's all for now. Allison and I are going to go enjoy a day in the city. We are going shopping and will go to an Indian restaurant for lunch. I have no idea when I will be able to post next. Hopefully sometime this week I can get on the Internet though. I hope all is well at home!
In Mukono, we are living at the FH office with a couple of other staff members. Allison and I have our own bedroom, which we also often share with a gecko we named Frank. The guard and his two sons, Stephen (age 8) and Moses (age 7), live here too. Allison and I are completely in love with those boys. We play with them most days when we get home from work. We let them play with our cameras, draw and color with them, and have showed them my Disney DVDs on Allison's laptop. They really liked watching Peter Pan. They couldn't understand a lot of it because English isn't their first language but they loved the idea of kids being able to fly.
The food here is surprisingly good. We have not had to eat much matooke so I am pleased. They also are surprisingly okay with me being a vegetarian. We usually have rice for every meal with either beans, peas, peanut sauce, or fish. We also usually have white potatoes and cabbage. Sometimes we have spinach or sweet potatoes instead of white potatoes. The only bad thing about the food here is that we have milk tea about three times a day. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so hot outside and if the milk wasn't often chunky. We have tried explaining that Americans don't drink so much tea but they just can't believe that is possible, so they keep making it for us. They also can't believe Americans could possibly dislike Wheatabix, this cereal that tastes and looks exactly like cardboard that we are expected to consume each morning. Our supervisor was appalled that we don't like the stuff, because a couple from England who visited before liked it. Allison tried explaining that America and England are vastly different but she didn't seem to think that was possible either.
Since we often don't have power, Allison and I have gotten used to using a lantern at night. We also don't have running water so we are getting used to bucket bathing. I never feel quite as clean as I would like to, but I'm getting used to it. We have a Western-style toilet out back but it just drops into a hole in the ground. The toilet is usually covered with a couple dozen little black flies, and toilet paper is hit or miss, so we use it as infrequently as humanly possible.
The work I have been doing so far is really good. It is really challenging, but it's good. I am doing a needs assessment so I have mostly been interviewing families in their homes about their struggles, and meeting with community leaders to talk about community needs. I have also spent some time at one of the schools. My favorite is visiting people's homes and talking with them. I prefer talking one on one with people who are living in poverty rather than either meeting with lots of people at once or talking with community leaders who are middle class. Most of the families I talk with have up around eight kids and maybe two or three are sponsored by FH. The sponsored ones go to school but the families usually struggle to send the others. Finding clean water and finding work to do are also common struggles for people here.
We will be working in three communities for practicum: Kyoga (the community we live in), Musombwa, and Namasumbi. Mostly I will be continuing to do home visit interviews, interviews with community leaders, and working on the actual report for my needs assessment. I will also be doing some children's Bible clubs and women's Bible studies here and there. Last week, Allison and I went to a chapel at school and were asked fifteen minutes beforehand to speak. It was kind of hilarious. We were expected to speak for an hour about values and goals. I think we made it for about thirty then the guy in charged expounded on what we said for another half hour. We have already been forewarned that this Sunday we will be expected to preach, so at least we have the chance to prepare this time.
Well that's all for now. Allison and I are going to go enjoy a day in the city. We are going shopping and will go to an Indian restaurant for lunch. I have no idea when I will be able to post next. Hopefully sometime this week I can get on the Internet though. I hope all is well at home!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Practicum
So, due to Rachel's current situation, I am writing this entry for her.
On Sunday she moved to Kyoga for her practicum. In stark contrast to Kampala, Kyoga is very small and rural town. (So much so, in fact, that you can't really even tell that the town exists though a Google search.)
Currently, the house that she is living in is not connected to the power grid. Until today, they ran a generator for 2 hours a day, but now they are out of gas indefinitely. The lack of power doesn't bug her (she actually likes using a lamp for light), except for the inability to communicate with us here. For a couple of days (hopefully that's all) her cellphone is going to be dead until they have more gas for the generator, and until the house's connection to the power grid is fixed she will have no access to the internet. Hopefully the fact that others living in the house are hopeful that the connection to the power grid will be fixed soon is indicative that this predicament will end soon.
The whole situation in this practicum should be interesting. She and a fellow student that she was with in Kamapala (Allison) are the first U.S. students to be sent by Food for the Hungry to this location. Because of this, there have already and will continue to be some struggles. But, the food is more diverse there (she was getting really tired of matooke), and she needed to get away from the city.
They are living in a building with a couple of other people with Food for the Hungry. The building serves not only as living quarters for these workers but also as the main location for Food for the Hungry's work in the area, so it also contains offices and a school.
Already she has started in her research. Today she held a meeting with many parents of the students who attend the school to talk to them about the greatest needs in their community and how an organization might help meet those needs. She was quite apprehensive about it, as she had only an hour allotted of their time and there could have been anywhere from 30-100 parents, most of which can not read and write, and many of which speak only Luganda. She said that the meeting went well. (I don't know any more because she had only enough power left in her phone to have the quickest of conversations today).
In addition to her research, part of her job is to help Allison in teaching, and doing activities with the kids at the school. Part of their "orientation" was doing this. On the spot they were asked to give them a message for "only an hour", but ended up talking for about half an hour. They were instructed to lead the kids in playing sports, which Rach wasn't exactly excited about. But overall she's really glad to have the chance to work with the kids and is quickly falling in love with them.
Well that's about all I know about how things have been going so far in her new location. Hopefully soon she'll be able to update this herself.
-Gavin (her boyfriend)
On Sunday she moved to Kyoga for her practicum. In stark contrast to Kampala, Kyoga is very small and rural town. (So much so, in fact, that you can't really even tell that the town exists though a Google search.)
Currently, the house that she is living in is not connected to the power grid. Until today, they ran a generator for 2 hours a day, but now they are out of gas indefinitely. The lack of power doesn't bug her (she actually likes using a lamp for light), except for the inability to communicate with us here. For a couple of days (hopefully that's all) her cellphone is going to be dead until they have more gas for the generator, and until the house's connection to the power grid is fixed she will have no access to the internet. Hopefully the fact that others living in the house are hopeful that the connection to the power grid will be fixed soon is indicative that this predicament will end soon.
The whole situation in this practicum should be interesting. She and a fellow student that she was with in Kamapala (Allison) are the first U.S. students to be sent by Food for the Hungry to this location. Because of this, there have already and will continue to be some struggles. But, the food is more diverse there (she was getting really tired of matooke), and she needed to get away from the city.
They are living in a building with a couple of other people with Food for the Hungry. The building serves not only as living quarters for these workers but also as the main location for Food for the Hungry's work in the area, so it also contains offices and a school.
Already she has started in her research. Today she held a meeting with many parents of the students who attend the school to talk to them about the greatest needs in their community and how an organization might help meet those needs. She was quite apprehensive about it, as she had only an hour allotted of their time and there could have been anywhere from 30-100 parents, most of which can not read and write, and many of which speak only Luganda. She said that the meeting went well. (I don't know any more because she had only enough power left in her phone to have the quickest of conversations today).
In addition to her research, part of her job is to help Allison in teaching, and doing activities with the kids at the school. Part of their "orientation" was doing this. On the spot they were asked to give them a message for "only an hour", but ended up talking for about half an hour. They were instructed to lead the kids in playing sports, which Rach wasn't exactly excited about. But overall she's really glad to have the chance to work with the kids and is quickly falling in love with them.
Well that's about all I know about how things have been going so far in her new location. Hopefully soon she'll be able to update this herself.
-Gavin (her boyfriend)
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Injustices Abounding
In this post I am going to attempt to share more of my thoughts and feelings about the things I am seeing and experiencing so far in Africa. I realize that the majority of this blog has been dedicated to recounting stories so far. I have been receiving emails and messages recently asking things like, "But how do you feel about all of it?" and "How are you doing, really?" I will assume the people voicing these questions aren't the only ones with these, or similar, questions.
I must say that the biggest reason I haven't talked so much about my thoughts and feelings is because they are very confused right now. I think and feel so many different things about the poverty I am seeing and all these different things are often contradictory. They haven't come together in a nice, cohesive, easy to explain package.
First, there's the issue of recognizing my wealth in the face of this poverty. At home I don't consider myself wealthy at all. My family has worked so hard, and are still working so hard, to get us where we are. Compared to other Americans, we are middle class. Compared to the world though, we are so wealthy. We have a two-story house, with electricity, running water, and my brother and I each have a bedroom. That's average in the States, but here only the wealthy can afford those things.
I walk around with 20,000 shillings in my purse, which is about $15, and I pass people who haven't seen that kind of money in months. We come back to our guesthouse, with our electricity and our lap tops when there are so many people here that have never lived in a house with lights and will never even touch the keyboard of a computer. People here look at us the way we look at the sort of people who have a tennis court in their backyard, a personal cook, and an indoor pool.
Then there's the issue of realizing that not only am I wealthy, but I am a part of the reason these people are so poor. Because of the way I live, the things I buy, and because I am an American, I cause others to live in poverty. I learn more and more all the time about the ways I (we) cause others to live with less, and support the oppression that causes poverty. We buy clothes produced by sweatshops, where people work for wages they cannot live by. We eat food grown on farms labored by slaves. We support an economy that sustains itself largely at the expense of others. We say we don't support slavery or child labor but those beliefs seem only to apply to those in our own country.
People from the world's twenty wealthiest nations have an average family income of about $27,000 (We are certainly in this category), while the average family income of the twenty poorest nations is only a little over $2,000. The top 2% of the world possesses 50% of the world's wealth. Sorry, I'm a statistics person. The numbers speak though, and they say that the way things are right now is so wrong. We have so much when others have so little and there's no way it's justifiable.
What's the response to be? There's the tough question. There are so many tough questions I am asking myself. What would it look like to live justly? What needs to change so that we can honestly say we are living in a way that empowers, instead of uses, our brothers and sisters around the world? How much do we give, and to whom do we give? What is the best way to help people? How do we know which cause, of all noble causes, to fight for?
I have some answers to those questions and I know some of the ways I will respond. None of it is very satisfying though because I am seeing firsthand how big the problem of poverty is. It is disheartening to know that, even if I am doing my part, the problem will still be of epic proportions. At some points in time, I am overwhelmed by the power I do have as a rich American. Other times though, I am overwhelmed with feelings of powerlessness because there is so, so much wrong in this world. It's a very confusing thing to have such polar experiences, both of them equally intense.
These are just some of the things I am constantly thinking about here. If you know me well, you know that at home I have asked a lot of the same questions. It's all so much more prominent here though. And here, these questions are being paired with all sorts of other questions that I haven't got around to sharing with you yet--questions about faith and questions about what to do with my life. So, there's more to come...
I must say that the biggest reason I haven't talked so much about my thoughts and feelings is because they are very confused right now. I think and feel so many different things about the poverty I am seeing and all these different things are often contradictory. They haven't come together in a nice, cohesive, easy to explain package.
First, there's the issue of recognizing my wealth in the face of this poverty. At home I don't consider myself wealthy at all. My family has worked so hard, and are still working so hard, to get us where we are. Compared to other Americans, we are middle class. Compared to the world though, we are so wealthy. We have a two-story house, with electricity, running water, and my brother and I each have a bedroom. That's average in the States, but here only the wealthy can afford those things.
I walk around with 20,000 shillings in my purse, which is about $15, and I pass people who haven't seen that kind of money in months. We come back to our guesthouse, with our electricity and our lap tops when there are so many people here that have never lived in a house with lights and will never even touch the keyboard of a computer. People here look at us the way we look at the sort of people who have a tennis court in their backyard, a personal cook, and an indoor pool.
Then there's the issue of realizing that not only am I wealthy, but I am a part of the reason these people are so poor. Because of the way I live, the things I buy, and because I am an American, I cause others to live in poverty. I learn more and more all the time about the ways I (we) cause others to live with less, and support the oppression that causes poverty. We buy clothes produced by sweatshops, where people work for wages they cannot live by. We eat food grown on farms labored by slaves. We support an economy that sustains itself largely at the expense of others. We say we don't support slavery or child labor but those beliefs seem only to apply to those in our own country.
People from the world's twenty wealthiest nations have an average family income of about $27,000 (We are certainly in this category), while the average family income of the twenty poorest nations is only a little over $2,000. The top 2% of the world possesses 50% of the world's wealth. Sorry, I'm a statistics person. The numbers speak though, and they say that the way things are right now is so wrong. We have so much when others have so little and there's no way it's justifiable.
What's the response to be? There's the tough question. There are so many tough questions I am asking myself. What would it look like to live justly? What needs to change so that we can honestly say we are living in a way that empowers, instead of uses, our brothers and sisters around the world? How much do we give, and to whom do we give? What is the best way to help people? How do we know which cause, of all noble causes, to fight for?
I have some answers to those questions and I know some of the ways I will respond. None of it is very satisfying though because I am seeing firsthand how big the problem of poverty is. It is disheartening to know that, even if I am doing my part, the problem will still be of epic proportions. At some points in time, I am overwhelmed by the power I do have as a rich American. Other times though, I am overwhelmed with feelings of powerlessness because there is so, so much wrong in this world. It's a very confusing thing to have such polar experiences, both of them equally intense.
These are just some of the things I am constantly thinking about here. If you know me well, you know that at home I have asked a lot of the same questions. It's all so much more prominent here though. And here, these questions are being paired with all sorts of other questions that I haven't got around to sharing with you yet--questions about faith and questions about what to do with my life. So, there's more to come...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
African September
I can't believe I have been in Kampala for a month already. Time is flying by. I have gotten into a routine of attending classes, going to the babies' home, and experiencing the city. We now call the guesthouse we stay in "home" and I no longer wake up surprised to be in Africa. I'm getting used to being here.
Classes are going well, but there is a lot of work since it's the last week. The material is interesting and I am learning a lot. In my Religion course, I have a 20-25 page paper due at the end of this week. My group is writing ours on polygamy, which is a rather common practice in traditional settings of Africa. I have had the chance to meet a few people who grew up in polygamous homes. They call all of their fathers' wives "mother", regardless of who their biological mother is, and their siblings are all equally considered brothers and sisters whether they are half siblings or whole. The wives don't generally all live in the same household though. They will usually live in different huts on the same compound. Paul's family, who I visited last weekend, was a polygamous family. I only met one of his father's wives though. In our paper, we want to look at biblical perspectives on polygamy, gender roles upheld through polygamy, and how children are effected by living in this sort of family. If we get started on it soon, it should be a pretty strong paper. But if procrastination settles in, who knows.
In my Literature class, we have read about 5 books that have all taken place after colonization. We are learning a lot about the coming of Christianity and Western culture to Africa. The West has done some really terrible things here. They have acted out of good intentions but have often not bothered to learn about the culture they are interacting with. So they have made terrible, ethnocentric mistakes that have hurt the people. Good intentions on their own don't go far.
I am still visiting the babies at the orphanage and I love it. It's still just as hectic and wonderful as when I started. It's so crazy there but I love the kids so, so much. The other day I had nine babies to feed at one time, all to myself. They were all lined up sitting on a bench and I went down the line feeding them each one spoonful of matooke at a time. Babysitting when I get home is going to seem like such a breeze. A lot of the kids recognize me now, which is so exciting. I wish I could bring them home with me. I've already looked up adoption laws though and I need to wait a few years.
It's so heartbreaking when a new baby gets there. One baby was found in the back of a taxi, another was dropped off because her mother was mentally ill and abusing her, another found in a bush. I'm so glad they were found, but it makes you wonder if all of them are found in time. It's terrible when the babies are sick too. A couple of days ago Kenny, who is probably about 9 months, was sick and I just held him the whole time I was there. He was warmer than I have ever felt a person be and had an IV in his hand. The nurse force fed him a glass of juice and he spent the rest of the day throwing it up. Having to put him down and leave was definitely one of the worst things I have ever done in my life. He cried and cried when I put him down and watched me until I was out of sight. Someone probably just picked him up and put him in his crib to cry.
It's really great to learn when one of the babies is getting adopted. One day a Ugandan lady was there choosing six children to adopt. Another day, a lady was visiting Elizabeth, who is three, and she was planning on adopting her. Elizabeth looked so happy, holding this lady's hand and following her everywhere. The adoption rate there is actually pretty high, and that gives me hope.
Along with classes and the babies' home, I have just been enjoying the city. We all feel much more confident walking around than we did at first, so we visit markets and shops a couple times a week. I like the Friday Market best. It's every Friday and it's all handmade crafts, like wood carvings, jewelry, and baskets. We also visit Ciao Ciao at least three times a week, which is this ice cream place right down the street. They have the best flavors, like Pistachio, Pineapple, and Lemon. Mmmm, maybe I will walk down there after I finish writing this post...
Well now that I am used to life in Kampala, I have only one week left here. I will leave for practicum on either Saturday or Sunday and I will be there a month. It will be myself and one other student, Allison. We will be doing different positions but living together, which will be fun. I am excited for the work I will be doing. I also am excited to get to know a community. I think meeting people will be easier in a rural area than here in the city.
Classes are going well, but there is a lot of work since it's the last week. The material is interesting and I am learning a lot. In my Religion course, I have a 20-25 page paper due at the end of this week. My group is writing ours on polygamy, which is a rather common practice in traditional settings of Africa. I have had the chance to meet a few people who grew up in polygamous homes. They call all of their fathers' wives "mother", regardless of who their biological mother is, and their siblings are all equally considered brothers and sisters whether they are half siblings or whole. The wives don't generally all live in the same household though. They will usually live in different huts on the same compound. Paul's family, who I visited last weekend, was a polygamous family. I only met one of his father's wives though. In our paper, we want to look at biblical perspectives on polygamy, gender roles upheld through polygamy, and how children are effected by living in this sort of family. If we get started on it soon, it should be a pretty strong paper. But if procrastination settles in, who knows.
In my Literature class, we have read about 5 books that have all taken place after colonization. We are learning a lot about the coming of Christianity and Western culture to Africa. The West has done some really terrible things here. They have acted out of good intentions but have often not bothered to learn about the culture they are interacting with. So they have made terrible, ethnocentric mistakes that have hurt the people. Good intentions on their own don't go far.
I am still visiting the babies at the orphanage and I love it. It's still just as hectic and wonderful as when I started. It's so crazy there but I love the kids so, so much. The other day I had nine babies to feed at one time, all to myself. They were all lined up sitting on a bench and I went down the line feeding them each one spoonful of matooke at a time. Babysitting when I get home is going to seem like such a breeze. A lot of the kids recognize me now, which is so exciting. I wish I could bring them home with me. I've already looked up adoption laws though and I need to wait a few years.
It's so heartbreaking when a new baby gets there. One baby was found in the back of a taxi, another was dropped off because her mother was mentally ill and abusing her, another found in a bush. I'm so glad they were found, but it makes you wonder if all of them are found in time. It's terrible when the babies are sick too. A couple of days ago Kenny, who is probably about 9 months, was sick and I just held him the whole time I was there. He was warmer than I have ever felt a person be and had an IV in his hand. The nurse force fed him a glass of juice and he spent the rest of the day throwing it up. Having to put him down and leave was definitely one of the worst things I have ever done in my life. He cried and cried when I put him down and watched me until I was out of sight. Someone probably just picked him up and put him in his crib to cry.
It's really great to learn when one of the babies is getting adopted. One day a Ugandan lady was there choosing six children to adopt. Another day, a lady was visiting Elizabeth, who is three, and she was planning on adopting her. Elizabeth looked so happy, holding this lady's hand and following her everywhere. The adoption rate there is actually pretty high, and that gives me hope.
Along with classes and the babies' home, I have just been enjoying the city. We all feel much more confident walking around than we did at first, so we visit markets and shops a couple times a week. I like the Friday Market best. It's every Friday and it's all handmade crafts, like wood carvings, jewelry, and baskets. We also visit Ciao Ciao at least three times a week, which is this ice cream place right down the street. They have the best flavors, like Pistachio, Pineapple, and Lemon. Mmmm, maybe I will walk down there after I finish writing this post...
Well now that I am used to life in Kampala, I have only one week left here. I will leave for practicum on either Saturday or Sunday and I will be there a month. It will be myself and one other student, Allison. We will be doing different positions but living together, which will be fun. I am excited for the work I will be doing. I also am excited to get to know a community. I think meeting people will be easier in a rural area than here in the city.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Visiting Iyolwa
This weekend I traveled with three of my teammates to our friend Paul's childhood village, Iyolwa. Iyolwa is a rural village in Tororo, about five hours east of Kampala. We were shown wonderful hospitality from Paul's family and got to have a taste of what rural life in East Uganda is like.
Our travels began with a bumpy and adrenaline inducing matatu ride from Kampala to Tororo. When we first got to Kampala, we were told by our doctor to never, ever ride a matatu in the countryside. This weekend, I discovered the reason for his advice. Matatus in the countryside drive at least eighty-five miles an hour, regardless of the quality of the vehicle or road. Matatus in the countryside also pass one another at ninety-five miles an hour going around turns and on hills. I spent much of the ride clutching the window bar with white knuckles,praying there were no cars around this bend or over that hill. Eventually, I decided worrying wasn't going to help anything so I went to sleep after fervently praying to arrive safely in Tororo.
We did arrive eventually and were warmly welcomed into Paul's family's home. It was a six room cement house with a tin roof. It had no electricity or running water, so dinners were eaten by candle light and I experienced my first bucket bath. On Saturday Paul showed us around the family's fields, teaching us about planting and harvesting each plant. We saw cassava, sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, sorgum, maize, and groundnuts.
The food we were served was pretty good. I was pretty nervous after hearing stories of past students having matooke shoved down their throats for half hour after being full, but our food experience was good. I was sooo glad that we didn't have matooke for once. Tororo's staple food is millet instead of matooke. It was nice to mix things up. I just could not eat the chicken we were served though. The girls in my group had to slaughter the chickens and I had to pluck the feathers. It was a pretty traumatizing experience. I slipped the chicken I was served under the table for the other girls to eat. They got back at me by passing all their avocado to me though, so I ended up with six pieces of avocado.
Church on Sunday was, as always, an interesting experience. The service was scheduled to begin at nine but didn't actually start until eleven. The music was so energetic and joyful; I am really falling in love with the music here. The assistant pastor gave a sermon then we were asked to introduce ourselves to the congregation. It is courtesy to share a song, so we sang "Come Thou Fount". After introductions, there was a time of testimony. A man got up and was speaking excitedly in Jap, so we couldn't understand him. But while he was talking, he came over to us Americans twice to shake our hands. Later, Paul told us this man had said he was so glad that he was saved because it meant he could fellowship with white people. It makes me so sad the way so many people here glorify white people. I just don't understand it at all. The pastor also went on and on about how excited he was to have whites in his congregation. I wish they saw us white people for what we are; we are the same as them, not better in any way. Well, after the testimonies, we though it was time to leave but apparently there was going to be a second sermon...haha
Visiting Paul's town was really great. It was so nice to escape the city for a little while. It was so nice to look out and see nothing but green, instead of the brown and gray of the city skyline. There's nothing like the smell of the air when everything is still all dewy and glistening in the morning sun. I feel so much more at home and at peace when there is nature around.
I left Iyolwa really hoping that my practicum would be somewhere rural. I will spend all of October in a new place, doing a full time practicum. I applied for a placement last week and we found out tonight where each of us will be going! I will be going to Mukono, where I will have a position doing research. I'm going to be doing interviews with people from a couple of communities to discover how Food for the Hungry is doing in meeting their goals. I will research the communities' needs and strengths and then formulate some suggestions on how Food for the Hungry can best be helping the communities. The research position was my top choice, so I am so, so excited about this opportunity. It's going to be so much fun.
Our travels began with a bumpy and adrenaline inducing matatu ride from Kampala to Tororo. When we first got to Kampala, we were told by our doctor to never, ever ride a matatu in the countryside. This weekend, I discovered the reason for his advice. Matatus in the countryside drive at least eighty-five miles an hour, regardless of the quality of the vehicle or road. Matatus in the countryside also pass one another at ninety-five miles an hour going around turns and on hills. I spent much of the ride clutching the window bar with white knuckles,praying there were no cars around this bend or over that hill. Eventually, I decided worrying wasn't going to help anything so I went to sleep after fervently praying to arrive safely in Tororo.
We did arrive eventually and were warmly welcomed into Paul's family's home. It was a six room cement house with a tin roof. It had no electricity or running water, so dinners were eaten by candle light and I experienced my first bucket bath. On Saturday Paul showed us around the family's fields, teaching us about planting and harvesting each plant. We saw cassava, sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, sorgum, maize, and groundnuts.
The food we were served was pretty good. I was pretty nervous after hearing stories of past students having matooke shoved down their throats for half hour after being full, but our food experience was good. I was sooo glad that we didn't have matooke for once. Tororo's staple food is millet instead of matooke. It was nice to mix things up. I just could not eat the chicken we were served though. The girls in my group had to slaughter the chickens and I had to pluck the feathers. It was a pretty traumatizing experience. I slipped the chicken I was served under the table for the other girls to eat. They got back at me by passing all their avocado to me though, so I ended up with six pieces of avocado.
Church on Sunday was, as always, an interesting experience. The service was scheduled to begin at nine but didn't actually start until eleven. The music was so energetic and joyful; I am really falling in love with the music here. The assistant pastor gave a sermon then we were asked to introduce ourselves to the congregation. It is courtesy to share a song, so we sang "Come Thou Fount". After introductions, there was a time of testimony. A man got up and was speaking excitedly in Jap, so we couldn't understand him. But while he was talking, he came over to us Americans twice to shake our hands. Later, Paul told us this man had said he was so glad that he was saved because it meant he could fellowship with white people. It makes me so sad the way so many people here glorify white people. I just don't understand it at all. The pastor also went on and on about how excited he was to have whites in his congregation. I wish they saw us white people for what we are; we are the same as them, not better in any way. Well, after the testimonies, we though it was time to leave but apparently there was going to be a second sermon...haha
Visiting Paul's town was really great. It was so nice to escape the city for a little while. It was so nice to look out and see nothing but green, instead of the brown and gray of the city skyline. There's nothing like the smell of the air when everything is still all dewy and glistening in the morning sun. I feel so much more at home and at peace when there is nature around.
I left Iyolwa really hoping that my practicum would be somewhere rural. I will spend all of October in a new place, doing a full time practicum. I applied for a placement last week and we found out tonight where each of us will be going! I will be going to Mukono, where I will have a position doing research. I'm going to be doing interviews with people from a couple of communities to discover how Food for the Hungry is doing in meeting their goals. I will research the communities' needs and strengths and then formulate some suggestions on how Food for the Hungry can best be helping the communities. The research position was my top choice, so I am so, so excited about this opportunity. It's going to be so much fun.
Monday, September 8, 2008
A Wedding and A Proposal
Yesterday, we all attended the wedding of one of our Ugandan friends, Jumah. It was a very interesting experience. I can't say I'll be wanting to attend another Ugandan wedding any time soon, but it was an experience to remember for sure.
The ceremony was very Westernized, full with a white dress, matching bridesmaids' dresses, and men in tuxes. It was much more celebratory than weddings at home though, which was really cool. Ugandan churches don't have the same quiet reservations that our churches do. People felt completely free to yell out and cheer during the middle of the service. It was wild. I didn't really appreciate the remarks from the pastor though. First, he talked about how Jumah chose his bride because she was so beautiful, more beautiful than all the other women. There was no mention of the bride's character. Then he talked about how a woman's place is in the home serving her husband, even if she gets a good position, for example, as a headmaster or the country's vice president.
After the service, we walked to the reception. It was scheduled to begin at 3:00. Silly us, we got there at about 2:45. Naturally, an African reception doesn't start until at least two hours after its scheduled starting time. So we sat around for a couple hours and the bride and groom finally rolled in at nearly 5:30. By this time we were ravenous and quite excited for some food. Again, silly us for thinking we would get food right away.
First there were presentations, which means people sang karaoke. It was humorous at first but then hunger took over and my patience was being severely tried. After the presentations were speeches. What a wonderful practice it is in the States to have just two speeches at our weddings! I think we heard at least five yesterday. And Ugandan speeches are not concise.
Finally, it was time for cake. They had eight beautiful pink cakes up front and I had been eying them for about four or five hours at this point. Instead of cutting up all the cakes, they cut just one of them and each guest got this tiny morsel! They just wrapped up the seven other cakes; I have no idea what they did with them. Well, when we got our pieces of cake, we greedily stuffed them in our mouths. Silly us to think this cake would taste like cake at home. I don't know what was in that cake, but my taste buds did not appreciate it.
After cake it was finally dinner time, but there was no silverware left for us. So we ate rice and matooke (which is the consistency of mashed potatoes) with our hands. I tried reminding myself that I was in Africa and needed to be flexible but I was too grossed out to finish, so I gave it to someone else.
After dinner, I met this young man from the Congo. We talked a little about how his parents had died and he moved to Kampala and was learning English. It was difficult to understand him, what with his thick accent and the loud music. He started telling me that he was all alone in Kampala and that it's not good to be alone. Then all my friends said we were leaving, so I tried saying good bye to this guy. He said he would walk me out. I told him I didn't want him to but he followed me. While I was on the stairs exiting the church, he caught up to me. He told me people shouldn't be alone then looked at his feet and asked me to marry him. Oh my...
The ceremony was very Westernized, full with a white dress, matching bridesmaids' dresses, and men in tuxes. It was much more celebratory than weddings at home though, which was really cool. Ugandan churches don't have the same quiet reservations that our churches do. People felt completely free to yell out and cheer during the middle of the service. It was wild. I didn't really appreciate the remarks from the pastor though. First, he talked about how Jumah chose his bride because she was so beautiful, more beautiful than all the other women. There was no mention of the bride's character. Then he talked about how a woman's place is in the home serving her husband, even if she gets a good position, for example, as a headmaster or the country's vice president.
After the service, we walked to the reception. It was scheduled to begin at 3:00. Silly us, we got there at about 2:45. Naturally, an African reception doesn't start until at least two hours after its scheduled starting time. So we sat around for a couple hours and the bride and groom finally rolled in at nearly 5:30. By this time we were ravenous and quite excited for some food. Again, silly us for thinking we would get food right away.
First there were presentations, which means people sang karaoke. It was humorous at first but then hunger took over and my patience was being severely tried. After the presentations were speeches. What a wonderful practice it is in the States to have just two speeches at our weddings! I think we heard at least five yesterday. And Ugandan speeches are not concise.
Finally, it was time for cake. They had eight beautiful pink cakes up front and I had been eying them for about four or five hours at this point. Instead of cutting up all the cakes, they cut just one of them and each guest got this tiny morsel! They just wrapped up the seven other cakes; I have no idea what they did with them. Well, when we got our pieces of cake, we greedily stuffed them in our mouths. Silly us to think this cake would taste like cake at home. I don't know what was in that cake, but my taste buds did not appreciate it.
After cake it was finally dinner time, but there was no silverware left for us. So we ate rice and matooke (which is the consistency of mashed potatoes) with our hands. I tried reminding myself that I was in Africa and needed to be flexible but I was too grossed out to finish, so I gave it to someone else.
After dinner, I met this young man from the Congo. We talked a little about how his parents had died and he moved to Kampala and was learning English. It was difficult to understand him, what with his thick accent and the loud music. He started telling me that he was all alone in Kampala and that it's not good to be alone. Then all my friends said we were leaving, so I tried saying good bye to this guy. He said he would walk me out. I told him I didn't want him to but he followed me. While I was on the stairs exiting the church, he caught up to me. He told me people shouldn't be alone then looked at his feet and asked me to marry him. Oh my...
I stood there baffled that this guy I had known for thirty minutes was proposing! My friend Kyle, another American on the program, saw what was happening from afar and came over to help me out of the situation. He put his arm around me and said it was time for us to leave. My new suitor assumed Kyle and I were married and took the hint.
It was an interesting experience. This guy really did have a very sad story. It's very depressing that he felt so desperate and hopeless in his current situation that marrying an American girl seemed like the best option for him. So many people here see getting to the States as their only way out of difficulties and therefore see white women as opportunities for visas. It's hard that we American girls always have to be on our guards, assuming the men here just want to use us for a visa. But it's even harder to know there are so many people who feel so hopeless that marrying a stranger and going to a foreign land seems better than their present lives.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Matooke
Today I'd like to talk about some of the local food we have been eating here in Kampala. Lucky for us, our cook at the house makes fabulous American food. So when we eat at home, it's lasagna, soup, vegetable stir fries, and Grace's famous pumpkin cake. We eat at local restaurants for lunch though, and it is quite an experience. Our favorite restaurant, which we frequent regularly, is the Millennium Dynasty Hotel. Classic name, right?
First, just because an item is listed on the menu does not by any means indicate the restaurant can serve you that food. We have learned that, when asked what we would like to order, it is best to ask what they do have. Usually we have an option of five or six items. At home, beverages are ordered and served before food but here you order drinks after your food and you often need to call over the server.
The drinks we most often get are Coca Colas (they are everywhere), Stoneys, and Krests. Stoneys are really, really strong ginger ale. They sting as they go down, but they are sooo good. Krests are bitter lemon sodas, also quite delicious.
As for food, it is all very starchy. The staples are matooke, posho, rice, and sweet potatoes. Matooke is mashed up raw bananas and posho is a mashed cornmeal type of dish. You usually get one of these staple foods with a choice of g-nut sauce, pea sauce, bean sauce, chicken stew, or beef stew. G-nut sauce is just peanut sauce like we have in the States but chunkier. So far, my favorite dishes are matooke with g-nut sauce and rice with bean sauce.
So far, I have been able to pass on the fish heads and goat meat. Unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to avoid them the whole semester.
First, just because an item is listed on the menu does not by any means indicate the restaurant can serve you that food. We have learned that, when asked what we would like to order, it is best to ask what they do have. Usually we have an option of five or six items. At home, beverages are ordered and served before food but here you order drinks after your food and you often need to call over the server.
The drinks we most often get are Coca Colas (they are everywhere), Stoneys, and Krests. Stoneys are really, really strong ginger ale. They sting as they go down, but they are sooo good. Krests are bitter lemon sodas, also quite delicious.
As for food, it is all very starchy. The staples are matooke, posho, rice, and sweet potatoes. Matooke is mashed up raw bananas and posho is a mashed cornmeal type of dish. You usually get one of these staple foods with a choice of g-nut sauce, pea sauce, bean sauce, chicken stew, or beef stew. G-nut sauce is just peanut sauce like we have in the States but chunkier. So far, my favorite dishes are matooke with g-nut sauce and rice with bean sauce.
So far, I have been able to pass on the fish heads and goat meat. Unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to avoid them the whole semester.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Nile Adventures
So, as planned, we all went white water rafting on the Nile this Saturday. It was one of the craziest, most fun experiences of my life. I figured that since it was with a commercial rafting company, it would be really safe and relatively low key. I keep forgetting that I am in Africa. Safety regulations probably don't even exist and precautions are a joke. This rafting was hardcore.
The first notable rafting story is when we got stuck on this waterfall called Over Time. Before we did the rapid, our guide told us that if we did flip, we might get stuck under the waterfall. So, we really, really didn't want to flip. We paddled our way to the waterfall and then just when we should have dropped, the back of the boat got stuck on rocks, leaving us hanging vertically over the waterfall. It seemed like the back of the boat was going to flip right over the top, throwing us all into the waterfall. We all looked to our guide and by the look on his face and the faces of the rescue team at the bottom of the waterfall, we knew this was not good at all. After looking around dumbfounded for a minute, our guide screamed with his fabulous South African accent, “Everyone hold the fuck on!!!” Let me tell you, we sure did hang on. Somehow, the boat came free from the rocks and we fell down the waterfall without flipping.
Rafting story two: We went down a rapid and everything seemed to be going well, until all of a sudden I felt myself being spilled out of the raft. I opened my eyes as I floundered around underwater and saw the raft above me. I swam and come up for air and saw the rest of my team flailing around in the water with me; we had flipped our raft. In a flurry of paddles and life jackets, we struggled our way back onto the raft and everyone was fine.
My third and final rafting story: During a calm part of the river, a couple of us jumped out of the boat to swim. We were enjoying the cool water immensely when our guide called to us, “Now don't panic but I'd like you all to swim quickly back to the raft.” As soon as he said it, I knew what was wrong. Someone had seen a crocodile in the water. We got ourselves back into the raft without anyone freaking out or losing an appendage though.
I think that's quite enough for today. I wanted to put my address on her because some of you have been asking for it. It is:
Food for the Hungry
Attn: Rachel Kleinow
P.O. Box 12167
Zzimwe Close
Kampala, Uganda
It takes about three weeks to get here and I leave Kampala at the end of September. So if you intend to write me a letter, it should probably happen soon.
Friday, August 29, 2008
City Streets
I have been in Kampala for a week now and I am beginning to get used to this city. I am no longer surprised to see cars on the left side of the road it is no shock that two lanes magically become six when traffic is heavy. Stop signs and streetlights are a thing of the past for me and red dust from the markets caked on my feet at the end of each day seems normal. I am now used to hearing “Hey muzungu!” every time I go out.
There are some things I don't think I could ever get used to though. One is that there are a lot of street children in Kampala. You can see children as young as three on the streets begging. It's absolutely unbelievable to me that children that young have to beg. A lot of them have parents though actually, especially the youngest ones. Those who don't have parents stick together and take care of each other. The younger ones collect money all day and their parents get them at the end of the day. Leaving their children to beg all day is the only option for getting enough money to get by for these families. For some of them, even that won't be enough and they will eventually abandon their children to the streets so they can take care of other children. Then the abandoned children become the older children who don't have homes but stick together and take care of one another. The thing that seems crazy to me is that there is enough room for these children in the orphanages; they just choose the streets over the orphanages. It breaks my heart to see them on the street.
Working at the orphanage is going really well. I love those kids so much. I already know that it's going to be impossibly hard to leave them. Tonight I stayed to help give the kids dinner. It was insane. Imagine trying to feed forty-seven children under the age of four all at once. There were I think eight of us working at the time. By the end everyone, including myself, was covered in matooke. I think the time right before dinner was even more crazy though. They usually get to go outside at the time and use up their energy. Today though, it was rainy and they had to stay indoors. There are not enough toys for the kids and not enough room for them to be able to be active. So they improvised and were pushing around cribs, while babies were in them, jumping on beds, and jumping off of tables. They aren't bad kids. They just don't have the right toys and equipment to be able to channel their energy in the right way.
It's so hard trying to show so many children love. They all want attention and to be held. They crowd around the workers and cry so bad when we need to put them down. It's hard to make any of them feel like they have my attention and care when there are five two year olds pulling at me in one moment. I feel like instead of trying to spread myself thin, I would rather focus on just one or two children at once. That way, when I am done playing or taking care of them, they feel like they had my attention.
Jeremiah, the baby who was sick, seemed to be doing better today. He was still coughing but not throwing up anymore. I am getting to know a lot of kid's names now and am learning about their personalities and the games they like. Some of them just want to cuddle and some want someone big who will play with them. It is so great getting to know each of them.
Other than the orphanage, everything else is going well too. Classes are very different from home but are going well. Right now I am taking African Religion and African Literature; both are very interesting. Tomorrow, we are all going white water rafting down the Nile River. One of the rapids is bigger than a class 5, which is pretty intense. It's going to be so much fun!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Sanyu Babies Home
Yesterday I began working at Sanyu Babies Home, which is an orphanage for Ugandan children. Forty-seven children, from newborns through the age of four, live at Sanyu. It is such a great place and I am so excited to be involved there. The director and other workers really care about the children so much and try making each of them feel loved. They are very short staffed and are certainly lacking in resources, but the staff do such a good job of working with what they have to take care of the kids.
Yesterday it was me and three other girls who went to the orphanage. When we first got there, we were shown around the home. There are a couple of big rooms filled with cribs, each with their own mosquito net. There's a big dining room lined with adorable toddler sized wooden chairs and tables. The home has a kindergarten for the oldest children; we didn't see inside of the classroom but it was cool to learn that they have classes. They have a pretty big yard with swing sets and slides. There are lots of bright murals and Bible verses around the home; it's nice they make the place nice and cheery.
As soon as we got there, a crying baby was thrown in my arms. His name is Jeremiah and he's only about three and a half months old. He threw up on me in the first thirty seconds I was holding him and his diaper needed to be changed. So I found him a new outfit and changed his diaper. I kept holding him and he threw up again. This wasn't just spit up; he was really sick. There was a Canadian woman volunteering who was a med student so I asked her about Jeremiah. She said that yesterday he had an IV in his hand but that she didn't know what was wrong with him. When the doctor was looking at him, he spoke in Luganda so she couldn't understand what he said. For my readers who pray, please pray that Jeremiah gets better.
The girls and I spent most of our time changing diapers. With so many babies, there is just a constant stream of babies who need to get changed. They seriously need two full time staff whose only duty is to change babies' diapers. The babies just want to be held so badly. They are so happy just to have someone's attention, so unlike any baby I have ever interacted with before, most of them loved getting their diaper changed.
The older babies and toddlers really crave adult attention and care too. They just flock around the adults, trying to get in our laps or grab our hands. They are so cute. I wish they had more toys available to them. Children just play by nature though, so I saw them playing with jug caps, shoes, and chairs. It was so much fun playing with the older children, playing peek-a-boo and teaching some of them some new words.
It's both sad and hope instilling to work at Sanyu. I wish these children had an attachment figure they consistently felt loved by and who wasn't spread too thin. The children are lacking so much, both emotionally and physically. At the same time though, children are naturally joyful and resilient. Some of us here with Go Ed are going to start a project to collect money to buy some of the resources Sanyu is lacking. For those of you at Calvary Baptist who supported my trip, this is where much of that money is going to go. For everyone else, if you would like to help out Sanyu Babies Home, I will be giving more info on here soon about how to do that.
Yesterday it was me and three other girls who went to the orphanage. When we first got there, we were shown around the home. There are a couple of big rooms filled with cribs, each with their own mosquito net. There's a big dining room lined with adorable toddler sized wooden chairs and tables. The home has a kindergarten for the oldest children; we didn't see inside of the classroom but it was cool to learn that they have classes. They have a pretty big yard with swing sets and slides. There are lots of bright murals and Bible verses around the home; it's nice they make the place nice and cheery.
As soon as we got there, a crying baby was thrown in my arms. His name is Jeremiah and he's only about three and a half months old. He threw up on me in the first thirty seconds I was holding him and his diaper needed to be changed. So I found him a new outfit and changed his diaper. I kept holding him and he threw up again. This wasn't just spit up; he was really sick. There was a Canadian woman volunteering who was a med student so I asked her about Jeremiah. She said that yesterday he had an IV in his hand but that she didn't know what was wrong with him. When the doctor was looking at him, he spoke in Luganda so she couldn't understand what he said. For my readers who pray, please pray that Jeremiah gets better.
The girls and I spent most of our time changing diapers. With so many babies, there is just a constant stream of babies who need to get changed. They seriously need two full time staff whose only duty is to change babies' diapers. The babies just want to be held so badly. They are so happy just to have someone's attention, so unlike any baby I have ever interacted with before, most of them loved getting their diaper changed.
The older babies and toddlers really crave adult attention and care too. They just flock around the adults, trying to get in our laps or grab our hands. They are so cute. I wish they had more toys available to them. Children just play by nature though, so I saw them playing with jug caps, shoes, and chairs. It was so much fun playing with the older children, playing peek-a-boo and teaching some of them some new words.
It's both sad and hope instilling to work at Sanyu. I wish these children had an attachment figure they consistently felt loved by and who wasn't spread too thin. The children are lacking so much, both emotionally and physically. At the same time though, children are naturally joyful and resilient. Some of us here with Go Ed are going to start a project to collect money to buy some of the resources Sanyu is lacking. For those of you at Calvary Baptist who supported my trip, this is where much of that money is going to go. For everyone else, if you would like to help out Sanyu Babies Home, I will be giving more info on here soon about how to do that.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Kampala
I am in Uganda!! It is so great to be here. It was insane getting here though. We had a delayed flight, then missed a flight, had to run to gates to make connections, and spent about 36 hours in airports and on planes. It was such a long flight. We were on the plane two nights and I only slept for maybe seven hours total so I am still pretty jet lagged. I am just so happy to be here though.
Our house is beautiful. It was not at all what I was expecting. We have comfortable beds, wireless internet, fairly reliable electricity, a washer and dryer, and sometimes hot water. We live in a walled in compound and we have two guards on duty at all times. So we feel very safe at home. I live in a room with five other girls and we sleep in bunk beds covered with mosquito nets. Our bedroom and the living room are on the second floor and each have a balcony. It's great. During dinner yesterday, we saw a monkey run across our yard! I have also seen lots of cool birds and beautiful flowers that we don't have at home.
The biggest difference between Kampala and cities in the States is that being white makes me stand out here. People stare at us a lot and yell "muzungu", which means white person. It's strange being in the spotlight whenever we go out. The children love when we wave to them because we are white. When we went to church today, they sat us in the front row just because we are white.
We haven't spent a ton of time in the city yet but I have really enjoyed it so far. The streets are so busy. You risk your life every time you try to cross the road because the cars drive so fast, and they won't stop for you. Everything is so different here-the smells, the sights, the sounds. The streets smell like roasted chicken and bananas the vendors are selling, car fumes, and people who have been in humid weather all day. Car horns honk incessantly and, if you are white, you hear "Muzungu" every thirty seconds. Tomorrow, local students are showing us around the city some more. I'm excited to meet them and see more of Kampala.
Our house is beautiful. It was not at all what I was expecting. We have comfortable beds, wireless internet, fairly reliable electricity, a washer and dryer, and sometimes hot water. We live in a walled in compound and we have two guards on duty at all times. So we feel very safe at home. I live in a room with five other girls and we sleep in bunk beds covered with mosquito nets. Our bedroom and the living room are on the second floor and each have a balcony. It's great. During dinner yesterday, we saw a monkey run across our yard! I have also seen lots of cool birds and beautiful flowers that we don't have at home.
The biggest difference between Kampala and cities in the States is that being white makes me stand out here. People stare at us a lot and yell "muzungu", which means white person. It's strange being in the spotlight whenever we go out. The children love when we wave to them because we are white. When we went to church today, they sat us in the front row just because we are white.
We haven't spent a ton of time in the city yet but I have really enjoyed it so far. The streets are so busy. You risk your life every time you try to cross the road because the cars drive so fast, and they won't stop for you. Everything is so different here-the smells, the sights, the sounds. The streets smell like roasted chicken and bananas the vendors are selling, car fumes, and people who have been in humid weather all day. Car horns honk incessantly and, if you are white, you hear "Muzungu" every thirty seconds. Tomorrow, local students are showing us around the city some more. I'm excited to meet them and see more of Kampala.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Phoenix
I am in orientation in Phoenix right now. We are all working on our computers to get accounts for this website community we have to join. So I have some downtime and figured I would write an entry.
I can't believe I will be getting on a plane to leave the country in about 8 hours. It's insane! It feels exactly like when you are waiting in a long line for a new roller coaster. I'm really nervous and shaky and have butterflies. But I also am really really excited. We are sitting here in orientation being told all about what this will be like and it's like watching the roller coaster go up the huge hills and plunge down, knowing we will be doing the same thing soon. It's this crazy anticipation that keeps building up and we are all at the point where we just want to be in Africa. But we still have a day of orientation and 33 hours on a plane ahead of us.
It has been so great meeting everyone and realizing we are all going through the same thing right now. Everyone is a lot less intimidating in person than they were just looking at their facebook profiles (go figure). Everyone going is really, really cool. I think we are all going to get along great.
Alright, I think we are going to get started orientating again soon. I guess the next time I write, it will be from Uganda!
I can't believe I will be getting on a plane to leave the country in about 8 hours. It's insane! It feels exactly like when you are waiting in a long line for a new roller coaster. I'm really nervous and shaky and have butterflies. But I also am really really excited. We are sitting here in orientation being told all about what this will be like and it's like watching the roller coaster go up the huge hills and plunge down, knowing we will be doing the same thing soon. It's this crazy anticipation that keeps building up and we are all at the point where we just want to be in Africa. But we still have a day of orientation and 33 hours on a plane ahead of us.
It has been so great meeting everyone and realizing we are all going through the same thing right now. Everyone is a lot less intimidating in person than they were just looking at their facebook profiles (go figure). Everyone going is really, really cool. I think we are all going to get along great.
Alright, I think we are going to get started orientating again soon. I guess the next time I write, it will be from Uganda!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Luggage
Tomorrow is the big day! I'll be waking up at 4:15 a.m. to catch a 6 a.m. flight to Phoenix. The past few days have been insanely filled with packing and good byes. I can't believe I fit everything I will have for four months in just one suitcase, a duffel bag, and a laptop bag. I think I measured my suitcase about fifty times to make sure it wasn't more than 62 dimensional inches. Every time I measured, it was a very safe 54 dimensional inches. Then I'd take a step back and be absolutely certain it was more than that and decide to measure it again. I am finally satisfied that it is in fact 54 dimensional inches but am now worried that I am over the 50 lb weight limit. Ah well, we will see tomorrow...
So I will get into Phoenix tomorrow at 9:45 Mountain time. I will have orientation Wednesday and Thursday. Then I leave at 7:30 ish for Uganda. We stop and switch planes in Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and Ethiopia. When it is all said and done, I will fly into Entebbe, Uganda at about 1:30 p.m. on Saturday. Once you account for the time change, I will be flying for 33 hours. Should be fun.
So I will get into Phoenix tomorrow at 9:45 Mountain time. I will have orientation Wednesday and Thursday. Then I leave at 7:30 ish for Uganda. We stop and switch planes in Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and Ethiopia. When it is all said and done, I will fly into Entebbe, Uganda at about 1:30 p.m. on Saturday. Once you account for the time change, I will be flying for 33 hours. Should be fun.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Anticipation
I will be leaving Le Roy now in just three days. I can't believe this is really happening and that it's happening so soon. Up until about a week ago, none of it felt real at all. I filled out form after form and got jabbed with shot after shot but still it didn't feel like going to Africa was actually happening. It finally does; instead of seeming like a daydream, this trip feels like a real plan.
I wish I could say that my predominant feelings now are those of excitement but it's probably something more like anxiety. Wondering about so many things is hard for me. I don't like having no idea about how often I will have Internet and phone access, about what things will be hard for me, about how I will be changed. In that way, I just want to be there and have some of my questions answered. I'm also anxious at the thought of leaving though. I feel like I am leaving behind everything I have ever known. It's hard to think about all that I will be missing, especially with this semester being the first half of my senior year.
Though I am overwhelmed and anxious thinking about my trip, I am still very much looking forward to it. I can't wait to experience a different part of the world and be a part of a culture so different from my own. It is scary to let go of the comforts we experience here in the States but I want to be shaken so I can see a truer, more genuine picture of what this world is like. I also very much look forward to getting to know people in Africa and try to see the world through their eyes and experiences.
People have been asking me if I know how hard it will be to see hurting and broken people. I think I know as well as I can without actually being there. I know my heart is going to be broken in a thousand different ways for the things I will see. That's exactly what I want, though. On this trip, I am going to learn so much about what God loves and what breaks his heart. I want my heart to be broken for the same things his is broken for. I anticipate great sorrow, yes, but also great joy. What sort of joy is greater than the kind that is found in spite of hardship? That's the truest sort of joy and I hope to see it in Africa--even if only in glimpses.
There's so much for me to be looking forward to. Even though I am so anxious about leaving and some of you have heard me talking about cold feet, I do realize what an amazing opportunity this will be. It will probably be one of the hardest things ever, but it's going to be so worth it.
I wish I could say that my predominant feelings now are those of excitement but it's probably something more like anxiety. Wondering about so many things is hard for me. I don't like having no idea about how often I will have Internet and phone access, about what things will be hard for me, about how I will be changed. In that way, I just want to be there and have some of my questions answered. I'm also anxious at the thought of leaving though. I feel like I am leaving behind everything I have ever known. It's hard to think about all that I will be missing, especially with this semester being the first half of my senior year.
Though I am overwhelmed and anxious thinking about my trip, I am still very much looking forward to it. I can't wait to experience a different part of the world and be a part of a culture so different from my own. It is scary to let go of the comforts we experience here in the States but I want to be shaken so I can see a truer, more genuine picture of what this world is like. I also very much look forward to getting to know people in Africa and try to see the world through their eyes and experiences.
People have been asking me if I know how hard it will be to see hurting and broken people. I think I know as well as I can without actually being there. I know my heart is going to be broken in a thousand different ways for the things I will see. That's exactly what I want, though. On this trip, I am going to learn so much about what God loves and what breaks his heart. I want my heart to be broken for the same things his is broken for. I anticipate great sorrow, yes, but also great joy. What sort of joy is greater than the kind that is found in spite of hardship? That's the truest sort of joy and I hope to see it in Africa--even if only in glimpses.
There's so much for me to be looking forward to. Even though I am so anxious about leaving and some of you have heard me talking about cold feet, I do realize what an amazing opportunity this will be. It will probably be one of the hardest things ever, but it's going to be so worth it.
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