Gas Crisis...

So I figure I can write long posts and wait for a long time in between them now...  or I can also write shorter ones that keep everyone up to date on a quicker fashion. So, sorry, fans, for being so MIA from the blogging nation... poor electricity and teaching means that internet time is generally limited, but I'm glad to at least know that whoever is following me now is for sure the real fans, right? Because you're still with me!

Anyways, all joking aside, the big thing right now (other than Gaddafi being killed, which is HUGE news over here, not sure what the sitch is in the US?) is that all of East Africa is in a gas crisis. Ok, in America, a gas crisis means that gas prices have risen to a ridiculous price. Here it means that there is literally no gas to buy. So, since we have a gas stove, this posed some... interesting predicaments... this last weekend, when we ran out of our last of two tanks of gas. We DO have a small charcoal cooker, about the size of a pot, so, we have had some interesting run in experiences with that. First of all, we have to boil all of our water so we don't get typhoid/other water borne illnesses. So... boiling water on a charcoal cooker? Less than easy. But we figured it out. Then Saturday, cooking dinner was an adventure. We decided that we would do our occasional Mexican night (surprisingly easy considering how far away we are from Mexico, due to the large amounts of rice, beans, and avocado in Uganda, plus there’s a fair number of tomatoes, hot chilis, green peppers, onions, and limes… what else do you need? Then we get some chapati and it’s ALMOST like they’re tortillas). So, Matt got some fresh beans and figured out how to start up the cooker and cook the beans, which took a lot longer than we expected. Then I started the rice, where the water wasn’t QUITE simmering, but it was hot? So it worked to a certain extent. Then Shane and I started the veggies, but realized that almost all the heat was gone from the cooker. Turns out apparently you’re supposed to keep adding charcoal. Who knew? Not us, that’s for sure. So, we added more charcoal. Which didn’t catch on fire or heat or whatever the correct terminology for that is. So then we added some paraffin (like lighter fluid? Is how it was described to me). Then cooked the green peppers and onions. Now I’m imagining that all of you who know how to use charcoal are laughing at us now… because APPARENTLY anyone who knows anything knows that you’re supposed to wait at least 20 minutes before cooking anything when you add charcoal and paraffin. A. We didn’t know that. And B. Dinner was already WAY late at this point because it had taken us so long, so we were a little impatient. So, we finished cooking, the veggies still a bit crunchy due to our impatience, and sat down to eat. Luckily we popped one of the veggies in our mouths before throwing them on our burritos… because it tasted exactly like lighter fluid. In an almost toxic sort of way. So… as one of the nuns who I told this story to said after she stopped laughing enough to get words out, you learn something new every day. So I hope you’ve all had a good chuckle at the things I learn while living in Uganda.

And since then, we’ve gotten an electric water boiler thing (my great way with words is coming out with this description), which we were actually talking about before, since we realized about 2/3 of our gas tank goes to boiling water, so we were thinking about pricing/conservation options, which has made having tea/coffee in the morning AMAZING, provided we have power. So, things are pretty good. And then gas is supposed to be back starting tomorrow (hopefully that’s real time and not Africa time), so my newfound knowledge will go latent for a little while. But I’m coming out of this experience wiser, and thinking that I might have been able to set my burp on fire.

I miss you all and am praying for you. Sending love from Uganda!

Important Information that Could Save Your Life Someday! And an Update. In Reverse Order.

So, the teaching has begun. And boy, is it an experience. A lot more kids came to classes on Monday… so when I walked into class on Monday, my heart stopped for a second, there were SO many faces staring up at me! And at that time, there were only 54 kids in class. Today there were 61. And there are supposed to be between 68 and 74, depending on whether some of the kids can pay school fees or not. And that right thurr… that’s a lot of kids. So it’s a little intimidating.

I’ve started teaching Math and English—In Math I’m teaching my fourth graders how to isolate variables… which I thought I learned in middle school, but anyways, we’re working through that, and they seem to be getting it ok! Which is a great confidence booster. And in English, we’re working on sentence construction—things like to start every sentence with a capital letter and every one with a full stop (which is what they call a period over here). And then we’re working on when you put lists into sentences, using commas and an “and.” Today, I could tell that they were really getting into it, because when I asked them, “What does a builder need to make a roof?” they gave me 10 different materials that a builder could potentially need. It covered the ENTIRE board. Apparently lake sand is essential to housebuilding in Uganda. FYI. But I think the funniest was today, I had to teach them about the differences between words that sound the same. Which would be much more understandable, except with our accent, these words DON’T sound the same. The words I had were bin and bean, tin and teen, ship and sheep, chick and cheek, bit and beat, and lip and leap, among others. SO funny because they’re SO clearly different words in American English. But not so for Ugandan English. So I would pronounce them, sounding different, and they would say them back to me, sounding exactly the same. I couldn’t help but laugh in class. I know you’re “not supposed to laugh or smile in class until Thanksgiving” but sometimes, things happen that are just WAY too funny. (I try to channel a certain junior year History teacher… but I just don’t have the ability to hold in laughter like he does).

As for my schedule, a couple of the teachers finally figured out when they would have me teach. I am supposed to teach for a half hour near the beginning of the day and a half hour at the end of the day Monday through Wednesday, and then half hour near the beginning of the day, and an hour and a half at the end of the day on Thursday and Friday. But I have yet to actually teach that little. Monday through Wednesday, I definitely taught at least two or two and a half hours each day. Which I am definitely ok with, because a. it’s difficult to get anything accomplished in a half an hour, and b. I would be REALLY bored if that’s all I was teaching. But it’s an entirely different teaching atmosphere. Some teachers definitely teach at the times they should, but it’s much more the norm to teach kind of whenever you feel like it. So sometimes I’ll have a kid come into the staff room and say, “Madame Anna, there is no teacher in the room.” And I’ll go in and teach them. It’s just an entirely different system. And it can definitely be frustrating, particularly those days when the kids are particularly acting out and I’m supposed to have someone come in and teach right after me, but then no one comes to relieve me. But for the most part, teachers are teaching when they should. Although, as Shane pointed out today, “for the most part” would definitely NOT fly in America. So that’s different.

As for discipline, well, it’s been a little rough too. I don’t want to cane my students, but because that is how "discipline" is defined for them, they think I’m a big old softy of a teacher, and they can get away with most things. So it would be nice to be able to redefine discipline as easily as I define the word cheek, but sometimes it’s not always that easy. After school today, I asked some of the girls who come up and always ask for homework after class why the kids don’t pay attention to me as well as they do for some of the other teachers, and their responses were, “It’s because you don’t hit. Madame, you should start hitting. All the time, every person, and they will respect you.” Yup, that sounds like exactly what I want to do. Not. Sounds a little Machiavellian. So if any of you have any ideas on how to help this out, please drop me a line!

But overall, I’m loving the experience (I know, I know I’m SO experienced, a teacher for a whole week and a half! But this is just current reflections, so don’t judge me too harshly!). These are just the more frustrating parts. But overall, the feeling that I got when the first student was willing to ask a question in class was one of the greatest feelings ever. Because they are taught not to ask questions in general. And to have a kid ask me a question… wow. It was great. And a couple of times where I’ve been able to explain things so someone would be able to understand in a new way, and seeing that understanding was mega amazing too. I definitely am really enjoying it so far! And each day gets a little bit better too, every day I feel I have just a tiny bit better grip on how to begin to do what I’m trying to do.

So, now what you’ve been waiting for… the information which I hold that could very well save your life someday: how to get away from angry, potentially killing animals….

Leopard: Definitely one of the scariest to get away from, apparently. They’ll run after you, and when you’re running away, just keep dropping whatever you have with you, because they’ll pounce on it and tear it apart, buying you a little bit of time. They have a difficult time getting cloth out of their claws too, and they won’t run if they have anything stuck in their claws. So take that as you will.

Crocodiles: Serpentine running, all the way. And pray.

Snakes: According to the teacher, you don’t really have to be scared of snakes, they are really nice. Just don’t step on them. And even if you can, don’t walk directly in their paths. (I’m sorry, but yeah?!)

Lions: I am not sure I’d keep my head enough to actually do this, but… Run almost directly towards the lion running at you. Because lions hunt in packs, and they’ll try to run you right into their trap of their pack. So you’d rather run away from one that you have a little momentum on already than take on 8 waiting for you. Also, according to the teacher, only lionesses kill. So if faced with multiple lions, run towards the one with the megamane. But just hope that they’re satisfied, cuz then they won’t attack you.

Cape Buffalo: These are actually really mean animals. If you’re standing up, they’ll hit you right in the stomach and kill you. If you’re running away, they WILL catch you. And then hit you. So what you do, is just crouch down, and they’ll keep rolling you (so basically, what I gathered is…just do a bunch of somersaults) and then as long as you can stay in that position, they can’t hit you, and will eventually get tired of you.

Angry monkeys: In East Africa, in the bush area, dogs have bells around their necks. Monkeys fear dogs. So if you can get close enough, (I thought this was really clever), tie a bell around one of their necks. All the other monkeys will run away from this one monkey (reverse Pavlov’s dog psychology), and this one monkey will keep running towards his friends to be with them.Typical.

So thanks for reading and increasing your knowledge of how to survive wild African animals! And thank you so much for all the comments and emails and support from everyone... It really means so much. So until next time, webale! (Thank you!)

First Day of ... School... Not as a Student!

So, I figured a good, much more organized way to now update my blog is to tell the story of my first day of school teaching. Which I should probably rename to my first day of school as not a student. Because, it was more than a little bit of a joke of a day. Shane and I are teaching at the same school. we left home at 8:00, hopped in our awesome tricked out BMW, jamming to some Mariah Carey and Michael Jackson (two favorites here in Uganda), picked up the kids we’re carpooling, and arrived at school 15 minutes early to our perfectly decorate rooms, and began teaching on our smart boards… oh wait.  Just kidding.

So here’s actually how my day went down:

8:03 – Shane and Anna walk out of the door of St. Joseph’s house on our trek to St. Jude’s after some really helpful and inspirational messages from some great friends. (Thanks for all those!) We just kind of assumed this would be a good time to leave, considering we had tried calling the headmaster 5 times the week before, but his phone was turned off the entire time. The walk is indeed a BEAUTIFUL one, with amazingly picturesque views of the rolling hills of Jinja province Uganda the entire time, and friendly children urgently screaming “MZUNGU!”

8:28 – arrive at the base of the hill in front of St. Jude’s, not sure if we are going to find anyone there yet.

8:33 – Finally make it up the hill and into the school, where we see maybe 4 students and one more official looking woman. She pointed us in the direction of the staff room. We enter the staff room to find three male teachers already seated and reading the newspaper. We begin a conversation with them about who we are, where we’re from, and how we’re finding Uganda. (A common conversation I’ve had approximately 382057849 times since being here. Understandable considering white people are not so common in these parts.)

9:45 – The headmaster rushes in, perhaps having just arrived at school, and notices us sitting there. Asks to be reminded of our names. We tell him, and he says, so glad to have you at school, I must go find the piece of paper on which I wrote all your information. Shane and I decide to walk a little around the campus of the school and introduce ourselves to whatever students and teachers were there. This takes about five minutes. There are maybe, MAYBE 30 students there… in a school of 450. Most of them are moving back into their dormitories. 

9:52 – The teachers and us continue our conversation, this time, delving into the topics of the United States, Obama, and our involvement in Libya.

10:30 – The headmaster torpedoes back in, saying that he has not yet found the paper. We tell him, it’s alright, we can just tell you all the information. Because the paper he has lost really only has our phone numbers and our preferences for teaching. He brings us into his office, has us repeat our previous conversation about what we feel qualified to teach (my inner thoughts… um NOTHING?!? Haha), and then tells us that the teachers he needs to talk to aren’t here yet, so he can’t assign us yet, but as soon as they get here, we’ll figure them out. We return the staff room where I learn from one of the other three teachers (who haven’t really moved since we got there) how to escape from various wild animals in Africa should they try to attack me. Important information to know, I think, but funny, considering had you asked Anna of 2 years ago if she thought she’d be sitting at a table in 2 years learning how to escape lions, crocodiles, snakes, leopards, cape buffalo, and angry monkeys from someone who actually HAD to learn this information as a young child from his grandmother because he had a high probability of being in actual threat, I’d probably laugh a little. So, if you have any desire to learn how to save your life in the event of a possible angry monkey attack, just ask, I’ve got all the answers. I might make that the next blog post, in fact. So stay tuned for future life saving tips from East Africa. 

11:25 – Tea time! Tea with lemongrass (SO good!) is served. We continue in conversation, moving more towards the differences in food between Uganda and the United States. It blew their minds that there’s no posho in America. (Posho is ground maize just mixed and cooked with water kind of as rice is). 

12:15 – The teacher who kind of seems to coordinate all of the classes finally comes. She is a whirlwind of energy and really took the general sense of confusion and calm and yanked it back into a sense of control. It was actually really impressive. She figured out which classes Shane and I should be teaching… all in Lusoga. So we really had no idea about what was being decided, we were just generally confused. She then announced that she was going to try to find the book for me for the English class, to which I was unsure of what to do. Was I supposed to follow her? Was I supposed to stay there? So I chose to follow her, as she combined a sense of franticness (ßI had no idea that was actually a word until Word just now told me it is. Well done, Anna, well done) and control in a crazy mix that I’ve never before experienced. She said she couldn’t find it then, she’d have to wait for the headmaster to unlock one of the cabinets.

12:32 – I return to the staff room. We’re now talking football (as defined by the rest of the world… us Americans call it soccer) as the Ugandan Cranes had just lost one of the qualifying matches for the African Cup, but they have one more chance yet coming up. Shane seems to be taking over one of the other teacher’s classes, so they’re figuring that out. 

1:40 – The headmaster returns from looking at the power lines… turns out that sometime during break, people were stealing power, so the power company came in and cut the power line that connected St. Jude’s to an electricity source. That same teacher finds the book I’m supposed to teach from (the student’s book, definitely not the teacher’s manual). She shows me what has already been covered in classes, and what I still need to cover with the rest of the term. She cannot find the math teacher or the math book, however, so I’m just going to have to wait until he comes to school, which will probably be tomorrow. 

2:11 – Lunch (scheduled for 1pm) is finally served. It’s a HUGE dish of matoke, which is basically mashed and cooked banana. It’s the staple food here. I’m not the biggest fan of it, myself, but cultural sensitivity, right? I dig in. At this time, what has been definitely apparent for the entire day to this point becomes more than blatant. The entire day, I have been the only woman in the staff room. The whirlwind teacher is also a woman, so she has walked in and out, but has never sat down. The women are all seated down below (the school is on a hill, the higher grades are nearer to the top of the campus, and the lower classes near the bottom), and a woman comes in, serves us our food, then heads back down. A few minutes later, a student comes in and carries down enough dishes for the women. I looked pointedly and questioningly at Shane, who then asked the other teachers why the women didn’t eat with them. They said that they taught the younger kids, “the baby classes,” and they couldn’t come this far away from the kids, because they would get out of control. Which definitely makes sense. Just was an interesting division. I walked past there a couple of times trying to see if I should be sitting down there, too, but they were always talking in Lusoga, so I felt bad making them speak in English just because I was sitting there. So hopefully they were not too offended that this new white woman teacher was sitting up in the staff room with the other men.  

2:41 – Every other teacher has finished eating. I’m still working on my dish. We are in the midst of an intense conversation about the differences in dating, marriage, burials, dowries, you name it, we covered most of it. 

3:40 – I’m still picking at my food, deciding whether it would be worse to not finish it or to have it all come back up into the hole of a toilet that they have at school. I decide the latter would be worse, so, attempting to be discreet, stand up quietly and slide the plate into the pile of other plates. But, alas, the other teachers catch me and say, but Anna! You are so big! Do you not need all of it?! (There is NO sense of concern over calling people big or fat here in Uganda. I’ve gotten it multiple times. Unfortunately it’s because I’m nourished… and that’s what they have to compare it to) 

4:12 – Shane and I look at each other and decide, we’ve sat here doing pretty much nothing except talking long enough, we can head home now. We walk home along the beautiful red dirt roads, to the chorus of “Mzungu bye bye!” and random taxi drivers stopping, hoping that we were too lazy to walk. 

4:37 – we make it back to the house finally, and head over to watch the seminarians (our neighbors) play a game of soccer.

As for a few other notes of points of interest. Kind of the whole day, I was finding random things that I thought were funny when thinking about how different this first day was from any first class day in the US. Here is a brief list:

·         On the walk to school, seeing multiple kids who barely looked as if they could walk, tottering themselves alone to school. It was really cute. And there were multiple other people walking down the road more than happy to help one of them if they had fallen or anything. However, would NEVER see that in America.

·         Bringing my own roll of toilet paper to school… the toilets are… holes in the ground, with basic outhouse structures built up around them. I have to say, I’m so grateful to have grown up camping, and using the outhouse there so often (it’s like a palace compared to some of the “short call facilities” here.) It definitely doesn’t bother me, but it’s just funny… not on every first teacher’s packing list… a roll of toilet paper.

·         The fact that there were maybe 30 students there for the first day of school. I saw one class being conducted. Other than that, there were simply not enough students to merit teaching them. It’s a vicious cycle. They’re used to being not really taught the first week of classes, so they don’t come. They don’t come, so there’s no one for the teachers to teach the first week of classes. CATCH 22!

·         Tea break. It’s an awesome invention. Half hour break for tea? Yes please! For this, I will say, Thank you, England!

I’m sure there are others, but I can’t think of them so much right now. If I remember or notice more, I’ll add them later!

So, as far as I can tell, this first day of classes is almost identical to any other teacher’s first day of classes right? Oh wait… haha. So it was definitely… slow… but at least it was decided officially that I would be teaching 4^th grade English (reading comp especially) and Mathematics. Which is exciting. It definitely can seem easy to judge this system, but I’m doing my best not to at this point. It is the way that they are working the education system right now, and it’s the best way they know how, mixing what they have right now with the culture and expectations of the country already in place. It’s what is allowing them to get by. They have so little resources, they do their best. There IS only one book, so it’s sometimes hard to find it. When things like power lines get cut, they have to be taken care of. And the best most qualified person to do that in the school is the headmaster. Students don’t come to school on the first day because they have spent their holidays helping out their families at home and haven’t yet had enough time to prepare themselves to come back to school. Their families expect a certain amount of help through the last day they are supposed to be home, so they have to prepare themselves for school after that. On top of that, many are scrambling to scrape enough money for school fees together. Due to the fact that the Ugandan schilling is the worst performing currency in the world currently and that the entire world is suffering economic hardship, money has become even tighter and the schools had to raise fees to feed their students, as the food prices are skyrocketing here. Things move slowly in Uganda. And that’s just the way things work. And it’s how they get by. And I know that pretty much everyone I meet has their own stories and hardships and difficulties, so I’m trying very hard not to judge, just to observe. And throughout it all, I didn’t get frustrated, because there were these teachers who were willing to talk to us, and I was so grateful for such good conversation where I learned a TON about our cultural differences (and how to escape attacking animals). I imagine there will be days that I am here where I am INCREDIBLY frustrated by the system and the lack of organization and the inefficiency of it all, but as for now, I’m not. I’m doing as best I can to keep an open mind, and *profile of a Jesuit grad at grad* be open to growth! So it’s just a very interesting experience. And ta-da! Anna finished her *revised statement* first day of school not as a student! I’m not going to my first day of school teaching… cuz I didn’t really teach. Except to tell the other teachers more about my own culture. But overall, a very interesting day!

 

And then day two was a good day: We showed up and as I walked up, was greeted by a teacher saying, “So what classes are you going to teach?” To which I responded, P4 English and probably Mathematics. And he revealed that he was the P4 math teacher, handed me a book, and said, “Go teach!” But then I asked if I could just sit and watch him instead for the day, as I didn’t really know what I would be doing, and he said that was entirely fine, and I watched him teach (algebra—we’re working our way up to variables). We had tea, and then I was told that one of the teachers for P4 was stuck in a line at the bank, and would not make it, so I should take her class, and then what would be my class right after it--2 hours of straight teaching. (Nothing like being thrown right into the fire when least expecting it!) So I walked into class and introduced myself, stumbling over my words only a little bit. The kids, whenever anyone new walks into the class, stand up and say in unison, “Welcome, Madame. This is P4 English. You are most welcome.” (Or something along those lines anyways, changed depending on the gender of the visitor and the actual current class). One of the biggest problems I knew I was going to face on the first day was the fact that I knew none of their names, and they are taught from a young age to be “humble” which translates into whispering into a hand in front of their face what their names are. So I had to get them up and out of their seats and trying to be loud, using some good old Jesuit Drama techniques, which was generally successful, loudly saying their names. They loosened up a bit as the class went on, and we went over the classroom rules, acting them out and seeing if there were any more which should be added. I did some very general review stuff, and then played a few games with them. (I decided to play a newly termed “Build the Man” instead of “Hangman” because I’m not quite sure of the cultural sensitivity on that one). What ended up being most difficult was the fact that they are just newly being taught in solely English in this grade, and an American’s accent is very different than any they are used to. So I was explaining everything about 4 or 5 times in different ways before a few students would get it enough to be able to show the other students what to do. Build the Man was kind of funny, they were really excited about playing, but one game they guessed the letter b three times, and they even guessed “double b” twice. I think I’m going to have to work on my direction giving skills a little bit! But overall, a good class period I think, where I got them to laugh some, and speak louder than a muffled whisper. So tomorrow I’m going to move on to actual material, and hopefully keep the progress I’ve made! And thus begins the teaching career life of “Madame Anna”…

Under your skin and into your heart

So, here we are again, and I’m overdue for another blog post! The time, although it a little bit feels like vacation because we don’t start until Monday, goes pretty quickly! We manage to definitely keep busy! I have done all sorts of things with my time. I am starting to find my way around the town and around Jinja and the surrounding areas a bit (although my sense of direction is as bad as ever… luckily Jinja is really just a main street and then another one just one street off of it, so I can never be TOO too lost… I hope.) I’ve been working on learning the local language of Lusoga (it’s a bantu language—so it’s pretty related to Swahili and most of the other languages in this area). 

Taking language classes here, when I sit back and think about it, is pretty comical. The teacher is giving us lessons about the general tenses and such—so present, present perfect, future, etc etc, but the vocabulary words… well let’s just say they’re not the same vocab words we learned in French in high school, or Italian in college. The way our teacher, Mr. Ben, teaches is through writing out sentences on the board “because we only can learn in context, not from memorization.” I’m not sure, but maybe he should have a good heart to heart with some Jesuit educators about that one. But anyways, the sentences he gives us are ones like, “I am going to the market to buy a goat.” And “I would like to cook the meat of a rabbit for dinner tonight” (a delicacy) and “The seminarians are going to wash the car of the priest tonight,” and “Have you finished washing the clothes of the children?”  And then the funny thing beyond that is… I have used all of these sentences (no, I haven’t bought a goat, but I have asked someone else if he did, and I heard someone else use the rabbit one. As far as I know, I haven’t eaten any rabbit).

Another thing I have learned how to do is to do all my laundry by hand. I’m certainly glad that I decided to live simply this year and so that ideology plus my limited luggage space means there is not a whole lot of laundry to do. Yet, that doesn’t mean that it still doesn’t take all morning to do, a fact which my neighbors laugh at. It does not take them nearly so long, but I rationalize it because they’ve been doing it for their whole lives. But all the women here (chores are done by the women, it’s still at that place in the social relations in Uganda) STAND while doing all their chores—the cooking (which most do over small charcoal grill-like things which sit on the ground), the cleaning, the laundry. My neighbors ask if I am feeling tired and lazy when I am doing the laundry, because I sit down. Meanwhile, I’m just feeling extra productive, because hey, I’m doing the laundry! It takes soaking the clothes in a basin for a few hours, then washing out the soap and scrubbing the clothes over another two or three basins, depending on how dirty the clothes are. And clothes certainly can get dirty here! Maybe it’s the fact that I’m always walking on these red dirt roads, but the orange-red dirt gets into EVERYTHING. In fact, I am almost always looking like I am fake tanning, because I always have a slightly darker orangeish tint. It’s funny to see it all come off in the shower. 

Also, I have been spending a lot of time with my neighbors, and down the street, at an orphanage. The “neighbors” are actually 2 families, living in the same building. There are three doors in the building, and each family has one door, which leads to two rooms, and then they share the two rooms in the middle. The parents and the girls sleep in the back room, the boys in the front room. But the kids, oh my goodness the kids, are ADORABLE. And the most loving and caring people I have ever met. There are many little ones, from probably around about a year, and the oldest is in 7^th grade. I have spent a lot of time with them. They come over to our porch pretty much constantly… if we are ever around, they are there too. They have learned to love the game UNO, and are the most daredevil kids I have ever met—they’re constantly climbing on everything, jumping off things, running all over the place. Things that little kids are doing which would SO not be ok in America. But they all manage to stay safe, and they think I’m an idiot for spraining my ankle! Haha go figure. I just never thought I’d see a one and a half year old boy who cannot even yet say words wielding a butcher knife with such capability. For that matter, I never expected to see a one and a half year boy with a butcher knife no matter what. But, such things are pretty normal here. No big deal. And it’s funny, one thing that I’ve definitely come to realize, is the idea of the entire village raises a child. Kids are constantly running around all the time without supervision (what a first world thing of me to say). And parents are totally fine with other people punishing their kid or taking care of them for a while. It doesn’t bother them if they don’t see their own child for a day or two. And it’s amusing, because when random kids find mzungus, they do nothing but follow us and stare. 

There are no cultural issues around staring here. Kids, adults, older people—all the time, I am being stared at. At first it made me slightly uncomfortable, because they all look like they are super angry, but I’ve since realized that it’s just because I’m such an attraction. But if I just smile and wave, their faces all break out, without fail, into the most beautiful smiles in the history of ever. A certain Megan told me before coming here that the smiles of the Ugandans would get under my skin and touch my heart. I think that is absolutely the most perfect way of putting it. 

Anyways, the older sister, who is in 7^th grade, has kind of “taken me under her wing” to a certain extent. She does all of the household chores—she does the cooking, cleaning, washing, taking care of the children—she does it all. AT SEVENTH GRADE! It’s so easy to forget people’s ages here because they take on so many responsibilities so early. When I was in 7^th grade, I was thinking about how much I didn’t like my braces and all of my worry went into how I was fitting in or not in Junior High. This girl takes care of a family of 7. And that’s typical here. It’s truly amazing. But every time she has cooked any traditional food, bought any fruit or anything of the type, I hear a yelling from my front door, “NANANA!” (because for some reason, Anna is a difficult name for them to say? But Nanana is not. Go figure. But it’s really cute so I don’t mind. The other name which I get a lot –aside from Maria, who is the other girl here, because it’s hard for them to tell white people apart… Apparently we all look the same. Nevermind the fact that Maria is Peruvian. And we actually look quite different—is Ann. I’ve chalked it up to that they get lazy and just don’t finish my name. Because I know that they all know my name is Anna (or Maria) but they just shorten it.) and then Ida! (which means “Come” in Lusoga) and I walk over and they share with me. (Ugandan generosity and welcomingness is another thing which I will share for another blog post because this one is getting long) Because of this, I have gotten to taste sugar cane (often), posho, millet, rice and beans, (cuz I’ve never had THAT one before… oh wait, that’s the most common meal here) bananas, jackfruit, starfruit, papayas, mangoes, and even this morning, porridge, Ugandan style. Even though I had had some of these things before, no is not an acceptable answer when offered food by someone here! I’m just incredibly grateful that I’ve liked most of the food, and it’s not like I’m eating something that totally disgusts me!

So anyways, this post is getting long, and is quite unorganized (sorry for that! It’s a little stream of consciousness) and so I’m going to sign off for now. I’m headed back to the house—we’re figuring out how to make chips out of posho that might be similar to tortilla chips so we can have chips and guac for the big game tomorrow! We’re all going to watch ND take on USF with a vengeance on Matt’s computer (he has a modem that will work we hope!) I miss you all tons and hope you are all doing well! Next post will be more organized, I promise!

"The More Africa the Better"

Or so Pope John Paul II said… and I have to say, I totally agree. We went to the Final Vows and Ordination to deaconate status of the Holy Cross this weekend in Kampala, and let me say, it was a church experience unlike any I have ever before experienced. We got a bus at 5AM with the seminarians who live across the street from us, and embarked upon the journey to Kampala. (This was really really extremely early, which I was less than excited about, but hey, it happens, right? But the nice thing about it was that our electricity came back on before then, which is really really rare, which meant that I got to take a hot shower. Winning.) Two and a half hours later (the trip from Jinja to Kampala can take anywhere from 2 to 5 hours depending on the traffic) we arrived into town and had breakfast with all the Holy Cross people. People came from all over to partake in this celebration: all over Uganda, and also from Kenya and Tanzania. It was truly a converging of souls to all celebrate and enjoy each other’s company. It was fun to meet all of these people, as well. Even Fr. Tyson from the States came over! Great fun. 

            So before the Final Vows mass started on Friday, one of the ex-pat HC priests came over to us and said, “I don’t know what the Christians were thinking when they brought Christianity to Africa, but it sure gained a lot because of it.” I have to say, during mass, I was thinking the same thing. They had set up a bunch of folding chairs out on the lawn of the facility, and had tents set up (which had Coca-Cola written all over them. Thanks Coke, for sponsoring this ordination!) We sat down for an experience. The first procession brought in the priests with dancing and singing and drums and joy, and then the same thing happened when they processed in the Bible a few minutes later for the first reading. Throughout the entire mass, people were singing and dancing in the aisles, and then after the final vows took place, I kid you not, there was a 10 minute EDP (Emergency Dance Party for those of you not in on the scoop of what the kids are saying these days) that the clergy started. It began by them all hugging each other, and then as the music played, they started boogying!

            Throughout the entire mass, the entire congregation was just ALIVE. Everyone was singing, and clapping, and people just exclaimed for joy, doing the traditional shrill call which is really indescribable, but is just so full of joy and really seems like abandon full of the love of God, multiple times during the ceremony. People applauded when the Eucharist was consecrated, and the feeling of faith and love of God was tangible. There was no tripping over words or concern for the right phraseology, it was all just spoken straight from the heart, it seemed. 

            After mass, there was a feast of a lunch, filled with the traditional Ugandan foods: matoke, chipote (which every time I write looks kind of like Chipotle, and that might become a problem a few months in when the cravings set in), and multiple other things as well to which I’m still learning the names. Everyone was welcoming and excited to hear about how we are finding Uganda and Africa so far. Here, when someone walks into a room, it is rude to not say hello with a smile, handshake, and exchanging of words to everyone. Oh! And, super fun thing about Uganda: a handshake is not simply a normal American handshake. Instead, it’s like the entire country has its own secret handshake. You shake down like a “normal” (it’s all relative, right?) handshake, then flip your hands up and shake, and then down again. Kind of hard to explain, but super fun to do. So anyways, during lunch, I met many many people who all personally welcomed me to Uganda and gave me the warmest wishes. People have told me that Uganda is the most welcoming place in the world, and I don’t doubt it at all. 

            After lunch began the dancing. They had brought in a band and dancers for the event, and so the afternoon was full of traditional Ugandan dancing. The men wear small red hula skirt things and what look like leg warmers full of bells and dance with them, and the women all tie big scarves around their waists, and have bright, bold colors. I’m going to try to attach a few pictures—I hope they work! 

            One dance, a woman came out and started singing and dancing, and then as she proceeded with the song, a man put a pot on her head. Throughout the song, she kept having more and more pots on her head until she had 7! As soon as she was done with the song, she looked into the crowd right at us and said, “My brothers and sisters with different skin color—come out and dance.” It’s more than a little obvious she was talking to us (we stand out just a little here J ), and so up to center stage we went! She then told us that this dance is called the Unity Dance, and the pots are called Unity Pots, and so she wants to share this dance with those of us who come from a different culture but share the same humanity. So, up on our heads the pots went and we danced! None of us dropped them either, although I’m sure we looked much less graceful and had to steady the pots a few times. At the end, she gave us a pot with the instructions to take it back to America, share the dance with our family and friends, and practice, and next time we come back, we will dance with her. If that’s not welcoming and a true sharing of brother and sisterhood, I don’t know what is. I was so touched. 

            That night, the wonderful Joe (Jebediah for all from you in Dublin) whose path and mine keep crossing, and I’m not upset about that, got the six of us (the house minus Matt who is traveling with his family plus Joe) hotel rooms for the night, and we dined like kings in the hotel restaurant, eating very well cooked cheeseburgers. Ah, America. Downtown Kampala itself, though was quite the experience in finding our way to the hotel. It’s about exactly what I imagined a developing country’s downtown inner city to look like. Tons of people, tons of traffic which seems to have no rules or regulations, pushing your way through crowds and tripping over street vendors, “paved” streets full of potholes, lots of people just sitting on the street, and stores with huge American looking advertisements plastered all over the windows. It’s not a bad thing per se—I don’t think I’ve been here long enough to judge—but I do know one thing: the Lord knew what He was doing when I was assigned to a town, instead of a big city. I don’t know how well I would have functioned in downtown Kampala as a volunteer. 

            The second day started far less early, with us allotting an hour to get from our hotel back to the residence for the celebrations. The drive took the full hour (had we walked, it would have taken about half that time, but it was certainly nice to have a seat and to not have to walk on my bad ankle, although taxis are another story which I will save for another blog post!) 

            The mass was scheduled to start at ten, but as I have discovered during my time here so far, Africa truly does run on “Africa Time,” which in this situation meant that 2 minutes until 10, an announcement was made saying the bishop (who was saying mass) would be here in 5 minutes. Forty-five minutes after that, he showed up. But luckily people are so used to it here that there was no grumbling. Plus it meant that we got to take a little powernap in our seats. People very much expect these kinds of delays, and it is really not a big deal to Ugandans. I just thought it was kind of funny. (Kind of like today—side story—we went to the high school to talk to the deputy headmaster—awesome title, right?—about potential work placements for us. He told us to get there for our meeting at 10. When we showed up at 10:10, he was in town, and arrived back on campus half an hour later for our meeting. Oh, Africa).

The mass, was again, a beautiful ceremony. In the beginning, the MC of the whole event got up and said, “Please, do not be ashamed or afraid to sing and dance, for this is a celebration!” And believe you me, nobody was afraid of it! The procession and the Bible again came in with a dance, and this time, mass was said by an African priest, and so throughout the entire time, it was very much a give and take situation, where he would ask questions and the people would answer. 

One big exchange here that happens often, which I know I have done before back home on retreats, was that the priest would say, “God is good!”

To which the people would respond, “All the time!”

And then the priest would say “All the time…”

“God is good, and that is his nature, wow!” (Or sometimes Wow, wow, wow!)

After mass, again, there was a lunch, and again a party, with dancing and celebrating. Every time we went up to dance, everyone laughed at the mzungus trying to dance, but they all loved it and were so happy to see us enjoying ourselves, so it did not feel malicious or judgemental at all! Just a sharing of cultures. I taught a few people the Anna-dance, so get ready folks, these crazy dance moves are making their way around the world! I’ll be just like wherethehellismatt.com. 

So if you made it this far, thanks for hanging with me! I just had so much to say and everything was truly an “African” experience. It felt like one of those parties that you hear about where people come from all around to celebrate together and dance and feast and enjoy each others’ company for days. One of those experiences for them where, they obviously don’t do these dances every day, they don’t feast and celebrate all the time, but it’s what we think of when we think of tribal, traditional Africa. And it’s times like those when it seems they really remember and solidify who they are and where they come from. And it was such a blessing and a joy to be able to see it and take part, no matter how small.

The Fuuuun has Arrrived!

I made it! I am currently in Uganda, sitting in a little gazebo pagoda, with the sounds of hundreds of chirping and squawking birds filling the air. It's so nice to be here! The weather is not nearly as bad as we feared it would be--it's actually quite pleasant in the shade with a nice breeze blowing. It's not too humid... DEFINITELY much less than South Bend. So coming from the heat last week, it's actually QUITE a relief!
The training week was good: we had 15 hours of teaching instruction, so while it's no grad school education on teaching, it's a lot more than I had before, and hopefully it'll be enough! We also learned a little about the culture and the program, but as we can kind of already tell, you can't really know anything much until you get here!

The flights went well, too, with no problems. The first flight was a little funny, though, I have to say, because we were served dinner at about midnight Chicago time, then breakfast around 8 or 9 or something Chicago time, but then we landed two hours later... and it was 6pm in Istanbul. Which just threw all of us off. The time change TOTALLY confused everything. I felt like it was all one big day from the 29th to the 31st.

We landed in Entebbe around 1AM Uganda-time, and were picked up by David, the taxi driver for almost all of the Holy Cross transportation. He took us to a nun's complex in Kampala, where we stayed the night. The woman who greeted us at 3 in the morning took each of our hands intimately into hers and welcomed us as if we were the dearest of old friends just come back to see her. On our way up to the rooms, there was a gecko that couldn't have been longer than an inch and a half shimmying its way up the wall. Already we knew we were someplace new!

The morning (which came a mere 4 hours later) brought a trip to the Holy Cross house in Kampala, where we met many wonderful welcoming priests. The car ride to Jinja then was about two or three hours, and I was captivated the entire time. It was like a smorgashboard for the senses--the air had a slightly sweet smell to it, perhaps it is all the sugar cane they grow here? or maybe something else, but it's very nice actually. When you get a nice breeze blowing, it's very heartening. (as long as the breeze is not coming from the direction of the compost heaps or bathrooms). The women were all wearing brightly colored, boldly patterned clothing and the men were all dressed very "smart" as they say here, wearing slacks and oxfords. The houses are often more one room brick buildings it seems, which have colorful laundry lines hanging from the windows and are often painted bright colors and seem to be advertisements for different products, particularly those houses facing the street. They're painted for different mobile phone companies or candy or coca cola or all sorts of things. I'll have to add pictures later! And then some of the people were carryign such loads on top of their heads! I think my favorite was a basket of bananas (the chiquita banana lady!) but we saw someone carrying even a mattress! our driver told us that was nothing, Ugandans are strong enough to carry 12 on their head at once! And then the sounds were all wonderful--the music, the people selling their stuff, the birds, the other cars adn people shouting out the windows to each other.

Once we arrived at our house, Damien welcomed us with the words "welcome home!" and a big hug, and we all moved in! My room is actually quite nice--I've got a bed with a foam mattress that's actually quite comfortable, a bookcase doubling as a dresser, a desk, and even a sink in my room! I'm truly living the good life!

We got a sense for the town, the red dirt roads and the fact that there are always, ALWAYS people walking around. There are just so many people! The boda bodas (moped taxis) drive around and can take you by surprise. There are tons of loose chickens that just wander the streets, and some roosters too (such as the couple that had a fight this morning, taking the liberty to wake me up at 5AM), and then some goats and cows. I have no idea how they tell who belongs to who, but somehow they must? I suppose?

Then last night we joined the seminarians for evening prayer (they sing SO beautifully here), a "social" and dinner. The dinner was rice, cabbage, fried potatoes, some sort of mystery sauce, and some sort of meat. I didn't ask what kind... I was too nervous. It was all delicious though! Which is really what matters.

The boys were all really nice and we had some good conversation, and they laughed about many of my cultural misunderstandings, but in a very goodnatured way. About halfway through dinner, the power shut off. I guess the government owes the power company some trillions of shillings, and so they are shutting the power off at night to get back at the government. So we walked back across the street to our house in the dark, played a few games of bananagrams (I even won one!), and headed to bed. It was remarkably dark in my room--it's interesting how when the electricity is out, there is NO light that comes in from anywhere.

This morning we went to Jinja town and experienced the supermarket, all of which are owned by Indians. This is apparently a remnant of the colonization situation, where the British brought Indians in to build the rail lines, and apparently trusted them more than Ugandans, so gave them more money and invested more in them, which means that even to this day, they have more capital and ability within the country. The Ugandans really don't like this scenario (understandably) and so there is a little animosity there when they talk about it, but they don't act on it at all, from what I can tell from the first two days here.

We got our phones, and had our first experiences of having to deal with people trying to give us the "Mzungu price" (Mzungu means white person). So we had to haggle with them, and eventually they brought out the phones that were half the price as the first ones. I can tell this will be something I'll have to figure out how to do while I'm here, but luckily they seem really good natured about it. It's like as soon as you call them out on it, they laugh a big laugh, knowing they were caught, and ease up a little.

So that's all for now, my computer needs to get recharged! But it's been so much fun so far, and such a great adventure! The people are all truly SO warm and welcoming, and are very friendly. The house is great, and my housemates are all really nice! I'm excited to get to find out more in the coming days!

Sorry if this was long... just a lot to say at first! Miss you all and love you all tons! Thanks for all your love and prayers!