Any time I step out the front door I know I will have an adventure. Uganda seems to be the land of constant adventuring as far as I am concerned. For a small town girl who loves schedules and patterns and would drive the exact same route home every night it can be a challenge. Somehow though, each day, adventuring seems less and less scary.
Yesterday (Wednesday) I went to town all by myself. Got a boda by myself. Went to the bank by myself, and then began shopping by myself. Kishanje, where I will be moving to (tomorrow!) is remote. Really remote. If the roads were good, it would take maybe 45 minutes to reach it from Kabale (the nearest big town) but the roads are terrible. Two hours is considered miraculous, some friends have even spent the night on the road sleeping in the car because the roads were unpassable. Anyway, I had to shop for some things to bring with me. The sun was hot, the road was dusty, and I had a big list. I was successful in purchasing many of the items I need. Yay!
Then RA, Mr A, and I went to the church outreach a friend of ours was holding. We rode three on a boda (for ex: driver, me, Mr A). It was a time of closeness to say the least. The program was nice and the children were sweet. After church (where I was corralled into being an “extra” in the skit) they showed the movie “Magdalene” pastors translating the movie all throughout. The town we were in is considered a dark area- full of thieves, con artists, and generally sketchy people. Even the locals fear it. The pastor friend of ours is my age and he and two others have begun a ministry there. They have faced a lot of opposition but they are doing a great work. One thing I really admired was how they are feeding the neighborhood children and caring for the widows.
I got up early this morning to meet RA at a junction so we could go together to a friend’s house. I left my house at 8:20 to meet her before nine. There was a side road off the main road that was heading in the direction I wanted to reach, I asked a passerby if it would lead me to the “police station” road. They said yes. As it was a new short cut, nothing looked familiar. By 9:20 I had spoken to three other people who kept directing me through fields, banana plantations, over fences and up and down many hills. So I called RA….. can you imagine trying to describe where you are and what you see? “Grass, lots of massive cows, plantations, and a forest”….. was pretty much what I told her. A man came along while RA and I were on the phone so I stopped him to ask for help. I told him where I was trying to go(after greeting him of course) and he started laughing at me – “you are lost” he said. (duh) I actually wanted to cry when he said I had to go back where I came from. So back up and over the hills I went. Hopped over two fences, prayed the ginormous bull would stay under his tree and let me pass. (ginormous bull…. HUGE…. Black, horns about five feet long EACH). The third herd of cows had cow herders with them. I greeted them and met “bruce” whose name changed throughout the conversation as far as I could tell. Bruce didn’t speak English, so using my LIMITED Runyankole I told him where I wanted to go. He spoke on in length, (I understood nothing) pointing to the road I was on. So I pressed on. I had to get through the herd of cattle…. So I clapped and shooed them and passed safely while Bruce and his companions laughed. I think he appreciated my braveness (which at this point was nothing more than a desire to get home) so he ran after me and accompanied me to the road. Not just the road, but MY road, the one I know. Bruce continued walking with me even though I was doing my best to assure him I was fine now and continued talking to me nonstop. Finally a woman passed (who I greeted) and she came over, sent him away and accompanied me till she reached her stop. She turned out to be the teacher of a few of my kids so we talked about them. I continued on alone and finally reached RA by 10:15. She had called out the troops (ABIDE guys) and was able to call and tell them I was fine. So I am fine…. Just a bit sore…
It was an unexpected adventure. It was a bit out of my comfort zone. Lessons learned: don’t take shortcuts through fields, forests, and banana plantations, and ask directions in the local language. I need to step up my studies and memorization of words!!
By the way, I was laughing when I realized that for the first time I removed the whistle my cousin gave me before I left the house this morning. RA was telling me to shout and they would listen, and I was like, oh, I should use my whistle…. Hahahah….
Tomorrow early morning RA and I will go to the bus depot to get a bus to kabale: three big bags, two backpacks, 25 kilos of millet and two girls. Our good friend PT will meet us in Kabale (hopefully with another strong guy!!) to help unload and then we will find our way to Kishanje. Keep us in your prayers.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Whistling, Listening, a New Name, and a Move
I know I said I would only update once a week, but since the ABIDE interns (AIM missionaries working with JAM) purchased AMAZING internet for the ABIDE house I am using it as often as I can to keep you updated.
Whistling: I love to whistle while I work. Sometimes I don’t even know I am doing it. Unfortunately, in UG, whistling is not an option for girls. I have been reprimanded by a few people, and laughed at by others in those rare moments when I forget myself and begin whistling. I have conducted extensive research on why whistling is not allowed for girls (meaning I have asked 10 people here). Here is what I have learned:
1) Only men whistle because only they can communicate that way
2) It is not acceptable for a girl to be walking about with her lips pointed out
3) if a wife whistles, she shows she does not respect her husband and he is shamed
4) if girls whistle their cheeks will stick out forever
5) (perhaps the most realistic answer) it was meant to further subjugate women in this country, along the lines of – women may not eat chicken (as it is only for men), women may not drink milk (as it is only for men) and women may not whistle.
The head master of the school told me that to this day his mother does not eat chicken, as it is reserved only for the men.
Listening: my brain gets tired sometimes of listening to and then interpreting the “English” “R”s become “L”s and vowels are different. It has led to some pretty hilarious conversations as I have misunderstood someone, and they have in turn misunderstood me. Sometimes we go round and round before either of us realize that neither of us knows whats going on. Additionally I get thrown off when they switch from Rukiga / runyankore to English and back….. mainly I just smile and nod and try to listen as much as possible to the responses of those around me.
A new name: when CC and I first came to UG in 2006 we met a lady at a tea place who gave us African names. I always liked CC’s – Makalena , but mine….. not so much – Namizi. It sort of means “water”. On the way from Kishanje to Mbarara Uncle AH asked me if I had a name yet, so I told him about “namazi” as neither he, nor the other Ugandans in the found the name acceptable, they renamed me: Busingye, meaning “peace”. Here the names they give are reflections of what God gives us. God gives us peace. I smiled when Uncle AH told me that they decided on that name because I am such a peaceful and quiet person…. Hahahah…. Now I have decided to work towards living up to such a name. (on a side note, I keep forgetting my name and then get laughed at when I forget to respond).
A Move: My heart has been heavy and not at peace for the past week or so. Ever since leaving Kishanje I have felt pulled in that direction. There are literally hundreds of children there in tough situations. By tough I mean- child headed families – physical / sexual abuse – lack of food – lack of water. I spent the week praying and felt released to ask if I can go from Mbarara to Kishanje. I spoke with the necessary JAM personnel and received the go-ahead. This morning I also spoke with my host parents who were such a blessing and so kind and supportive. Such a relief!! This move is difficult. I am nervous. It is rural and remote and rough. But I am content in knowing I am meant to go there.
Consequently, at the end of this week when I journey towards the village, my blog updates will be less regular. I will have to travel about 2 hours to reach a town with internet. So…. Keep me in your prayers!!
Whistling: I love to whistle while I work. Sometimes I don’t even know I am doing it. Unfortunately, in UG, whistling is not an option for girls. I have been reprimanded by a few people, and laughed at by others in those rare moments when I forget myself and begin whistling. I have conducted extensive research on why whistling is not allowed for girls (meaning I have asked 10 people here). Here is what I have learned:
1) Only men whistle because only they can communicate that way
2) It is not acceptable for a girl to be walking about with her lips pointed out
3) if a wife whistles, she shows she does not respect her husband and he is shamed
4) if girls whistle their cheeks will stick out forever
5) (perhaps the most realistic answer) it was meant to further subjugate women in this country, along the lines of – women may not eat chicken (as it is only for men), women may not drink milk (as it is only for men) and women may not whistle.
The head master of the school told me that to this day his mother does not eat chicken, as it is reserved only for the men.
Listening: my brain gets tired sometimes of listening to and then interpreting the “English” “R”s become “L”s and vowels are different. It has led to some pretty hilarious conversations as I have misunderstood someone, and they have in turn misunderstood me. Sometimes we go round and round before either of us realize that neither of us knows whats going on. Additionally I get thrown off when they switch from Rukiga / runyankore to English and back….. mainly I just smile and nod and try to listen as much as possible to the responses of those around me.
A new name: when CC and I first came to UG in 2006 we met a lady at a tea place who gave us African names. I always liked CC’s – Makalena , but mine….. not so much – Namizi. It sort of means “water”. On the way from Kishanje to Mbarara Uncle AH asked me if I had a name yet, so I told him about “namazi” as neither he, nor the other Ugandans in the found the name acceptable, they renamed me: Busingye, meaning “peace”. Here the names they give are reflections of what God gives us. God gives us peace. I smiled when Uncle AH told me that they decided on that name because I am such a peaceful and quiet person…. Hahahah…. Now I have decided to work towards living up to such a name. (on a side note, I keep forgetting my name and then get laughed at when I forget to respond).
A Move: My heart has been heavy and not at peace for the past week or so. Ever since leaving Kishanje I have felt pulled in that direction. There are literally hundreds of children there in tough situations. By tough I mean- child headed families – physical / sexual abuse – lack of food – lack of water. I spent the week praying and felt released to ask if I can go from Mbarara to Kishanje. I spoke with the necessary JAM personnel and received the go-ahead. This morning I also spoke with my host parents who were such a blessing and so kind and supportive. Such a relief!! This move is difficult. I am nervous. It is rural and remote and rough. But I am content in knowing I am meant to go there.
Consequently, at the end of this week when I journey towards the village, my blog updates will be less regular. I will have to travel about 2 hours to reach a town with internet. So…. Keep me in your prayers!!
Monday, January 25, 2010
Greeting.... EVERYONE EVERYTIME
Water just up and quit this morning. I have no idea why. Thankfully I filled my water bottle last night.
I wonder about sharing these details with you. Please know I am not complaining. I am not fearful at this moment about the water not returning, it is the rainy season, the water barrels will fill and we have enough. So don’t fear for me either.
Being in UG is different. I think the most different thing I am feeling on this trip is the finality of it – I have committed for one year. Each day feels so long, but it doesn’t seem as though I have been here for 12 days.
Some things continue to boggle my mind. There seems to be an unspoken rule that it is “my” job to greet everyone I pass on the road. Why do I have to initiate the greetings? I am just learning this language; can’t someone greet me first and let me respond? Silly, I know, but some mornings it is frustrating. I have had to apologize multiple times already for not greeting everyone in the room I enter. Even if I don’t know a person I need to greet them. Even if I just saw them five minutes ago I need to greet them.
Upon arriving in Mbarara I was informed that I would not be allowed to walk in the dark. The sun sets early now, so I would have to leave by around 6:30 at the latest to make it “home” in time. The night walking ban lasted one day. On the same land as the children’s home is the “ABIDE house” for guys who have just graduated HS and are waiting to begin university – they come here for a discipleship program. Anyway, each night a “band of men” / aka the ABIDE guys walk me home. The walk is never long with stories and laughter. I am tired of walking but I treasure these moments as they instruct me in cultural norms, tell me ghost stories, and share their lives with me.
Before leaving for UG one of my cousins totally hooked me up with great survival stuff. I carry the small Kershaw knife with me and use it daily. Another sweet item he gave me was what I would call a “protection flashlight”- small and incredibly bright. (if you get attacked at night shine it in the bad guys eyes and it blinds them temporarily so you can escape). I was explaining this concept to Uncle AH who was skeptical. Next thing I knew, he had taken it and shined it alongside his eye (not directly into his eye, but on the side)….. sure enough, it worked. “LE, my sight is gone! Is this permanent??” Oh, boy.
Driving from Kabale to Mbarara we passed a village. Uncle AH told us that a house we passed was being built by a family we know. “Why do they build second homes in the village, Uncle?” I asked, “In case someone dies” was his reply. Only in Africa would they build a second home in case a relative happened to die in that region…. RA and I laughed and still laugh about that explanation. Upon further investigation I have learned that you must have a place for the elderly to be buried – land where they came from. So if you have elderly parent you build a house in the home village so the relatives have a place to stay during the funeral and so you have land to bury them on.
School starts on Feb 1 here, so there aren’t many children around. I have been working on creating admission forms, acceptance letters, and advertisements for the JAM school. Learning all kinds of different school requirements in the process.
Keep me in your prayers as I have been faced with some difficult questions already. Some of the kids have shared their family history with me and my heart is hurting for them. I will keep you all posted as I continue to learn new things about life in UG. Love to you all.
I wonder about sharing these details with you. Please know I am not complaining. I am not fearful at this moment about the water not returning, it is the rainy season, the water barrels will fill and we have enough. So don’t fear for me either.
Being in UG is different. I think the most different thing I am feeling on this trip is the finality of it – I have committed for one year. Each day feels so long, but it doesn’t seem as though I have been here for 12 days.
Some things continue to boggle my mind. There seems to be an unspoken rule that it is “my” job to greet everyone I pass on the road. Why do I have to initiate the greetings? I am just learning this language; can’t someone greet me first and let me respond? Silly, I know, but some mornings it is frustrating. I have had to apologize multiple times already for not greeting everyone in the room I enter. Even if I don’t know a person I need to greet them. Even if I just saw them five minutes ago I need to greet them.
Upon arriving in Mbarara I was informed that I would not be allowed to walk in the dark. The sun sets early now, so I would have to leave by around 6:30 at the latest to make it “home” in time. The night walking ban lasted one day. On the same land as the children’s home is the “ABIDE house” for guys who have just graduated HS and are waiting to begin university – they come here for a discipleship program. Anyway, each night a “band of men” / aka the ABIDE guys walk me home. The walk is never long with stories and laughter. I am tired of walking but I treasure these moments as they instruct me in cultural norms, tell me ghost stories, and share their lives with me.
Before leaving for UG one of my cousins totally hooked me up with great survival stuff. I carry the small Kershaw knife with me and use it daily. Another sweet item he gave me was what I would call a “protection flashlight”- small and incredibly bright. (if you get attacked at night shine it in the bad guys eyes and it blinds them temporarily so you can escape). I was explaining this concept to Uncle AH who was skeptical. Next thing I knew, he had taken it and shined it alongside his eye (not directly into his eye, but on the side)….. sure enough, it worked. “LE, my sight is gone! Is this permanent??” Oh, boy.
Driving from Kabale to Mbarara we passed a village. Uncle AH told us that a house we passed was being built by a family we know. “Why do they build second homes in the village, Uncle?” I asked, “In case someone dies” was his reply. Only in Africa would they build a second home in case a relative happened to die in that region…. RA and I laughed and still laugh about that explanation. Upon further investigation I have learned that you must have a place for the elderly to be buried – land where they came from. So if you have elderly parent you build a house in the home village so the relatives have a place to stay during the funeral and so you have land to bury them on.
School starts on Feb 1 here, so there aren’t many children around. I have been working on creating admission forms, acceptance letters, and advertisements for the JAM school. Learning all kinds of different school requirements in the process.
Keep me in your prayers as I have been faced with some difficult questions already. Some of the kids have shared their family history with me and my heart is hurting for them. I will keep you all posted as I continue to learn new things about life in UG. Love to you all.
Friday, January 22, 2010
TIA : This is Africa
It has been over a week since I left SV to begin the travels to UG. A lot has happened during that time. It is strange, time seems to move so slowly in UG, but passes by quickly. Tuesday morning my friend Caylin and I got up early to drive to the airport (mom, dad, and Dylan dropped me in Tucson Monday evening). I met some really neat “traveling companions” on each leg of the journey. In Amsterdam, where I had a short layover, I met up with Mr. A. His Daughter, RA, is teaching in UG with JAM. He was heading to UG to work with the ABIDE program and to see how RA is doing. Three long flights from home I arrived in UG- only an hour late! Mr. A and I were met at the airport by RA and our Ugandan friends PT and M. We traveled to Kampala to stay the night at the Reverend T’s house. In bed by 12:15 am, up by 4:30 am to shower and hit the road (yes, shower!!). We drove for about 6 hrs, stopped in Mbarara for lunch, and then drove to Kishanje. We arrived around 8 pm in time for dinner.
Friday was great. Got to see some of my kids at the school and catch up with them. It is school vacation time here, so I haven’t seen all the children I know and love, but it has been nice getting some good one on one time with them.
Saturday we left after lunch to drive the three hours to Kabale. RA and PT (who I genuinely love) were mean as can be and made me do some shopping all by myself- in Rukiga!! It was intense, but I am thankful for their tough love. RA, Mr. A, and I spent the night at a hostel, got up early Sunday to bathe, went to Church, then PT drove us to Lake Bunyonyi. It is a beautiful lake surrounded by neat camping sites, hiking trails, and some little touristy B&B’s. It is also a type of “taxi” ground. You can take a long canoe across the lake (which is huge) to reach the far villages and towns. RA is excited to introduce me to this form of public transport. I am not so sure….
We spent a short time at the lake then headed back to Kabale where we met with Uncle AH who drove us to Mbarara. Upon reaching the children’s home, we dropped off Mr. A and RA and then headed over to meet my host family. My friend NM (who CC and I lived with our first summer) came with Uncle AH and me to introduce me to the family. It was nice having a sister with me on this new adventure.
I am still not clear on all the details. A hard thing for me to deal with- I love details, I love clarity, I love plans…. And yet I find myself here in Africa. God has a sense of humor. The family I am staying with is preparing a room for me with a separate bathing area which I really appreciate, but for now I am in the main area with them. Unlike what I was told, there is electricity!! I can charge my phone to use, but all computer work has to be done at the ABIDE house / Children’s Home or in town. On the positive side, my host family is kind and welcoming, on the negative side I think they live on the other side of the moon. Thankfully some of the ABIDE guys and some of my boys have escorted me home in the evenings. The walk is not so daunting when you are walking with friends. Each morning I make the trek down alone though.
Things are difficult for me here. I am not a fearless person. I have to go WAY outside my comfort zone. Already it is feeling a bit overwhelming. Different culture. Different languages. Different people. Different places. Different expectations. Different responsibilities. Different challenges. One day at a time, by the grace of God is the only way I will get through.
Final thoughts: Being here is good for my “self esteem”. Already many people have told me “you are sooo fat!!” some of the children informed me that now I look like a mukaaka (grandmother) because I am so much older than before, and Uncle AH asked me why I cut my hair- because this hair cut “is NOT smart” (meaning it looks bad). Finally, one of my girls told me that another girl had told her that "Aunt Le is so humble and nice, she is not attractive though, but because she is humble people can like her anyway." -excellent-
There is so much more to share, but for now I will end with this thought: as tired as I may be from travelling, from being bombarded by language, culture, and mosquitoes, as far away as I feel from my friends and family, and as hot and sticky –uncomfortable as I may become, it is all worth it: If I can show just one child they are loved and they are valuable, then this is all worth it.
Friday was great. Got to see some of my kids at the school and catch up with them. It is school vacation time here, so I haven’t seen all the children I know and love, but it has been nice getting some good one on one time with them.
Saturday we left after lunch to drive the three hours to Kabale. RA and PT (who I genuinely love) were mean as can be and made me do some shopping all by myself- in Rukiga!! It was intense, but I am thankful for their tough love. RA, Mr. A, and I spent the night at a hostel, got up early Sunday to bathe, went to Church, then PT drove us to Lake Bunyonyi. It is a beautiful lake surrounded by neat camping sites, hiking trails, and some little touristy B&B’s. It is also a type of “taxi” ground. You can take a long canoe across the lake (which is huge) to reach the far villages and towns. RA is excited to introduce me to this form of public transport. I am not so sure….
We spent a short time at the lake then headed back to Kabale where we met with Uncle AH who drove us to Mbarara. Upon reaching the children’s home, we dropped off Mr. A and RA and then headed over to meet my host family. My friend NM (who CC and I lived with our first summer) came with Uncle AH and me to introduce me to the family. It was nice having a sister with me on this new adventure.
I am still not clear on all the details. A hard thing for me to deal with- I love details, I love clarity, I love plans…. And yet I find myself here in Africa. God has a sense of humor. The family I am staying with is preparing a room for me with a separate bathing area which I really appreciate, but for now I am in the main area with them. Unlike what I was told, there is electricity!! I can charge my phone to use, but all computer work has to be done at the ABIDE house / Children’s Home or in town. On the positive side, my host family is kind and welcoming, on the negative side I think they live on the other side of the moon. Thankfully some of the ABIDE guys and some of my boys have escorted me home in the evenings. The walk is not so daunting when you are walking with friends. Each morning I make the trek down alone though.
Things are difficult for me here. I am not a fearless person. I have to go WAY outside my comfort zone. Already it is feeling a bit overwhelming. Different culture. Different languages. Different people. Different places. Different expectations. Different responsibilities. Different challenges. One day at a time, by the grace of God is the only way I will get through.
Final thoughts: Being here is good for my “self esteem”. Already many people have told me “you are sooo fat!!” some of the children informed me that now I look like a mukaaka (grandmother) because I am so much older than before, and Uncle AH asked me why I cut my hair- because this hair cut “is NOT smart” (meaning it looks bad). Finally, one of my girls told me that another girl had told her that "Aunt Le is so humble and nice, she is not attractive though, but because she is humble people can like her anyway." -excellent-
There is so much more to share, but for now I will end with this thought: as tired as I may be from travelling, from being bombarded by language, culture, and mosquitoes, as far away as I feel from my friends and family, and as hot and sticky –uncomfortable as I may become, it is all worth it: If I can show just one child they are loved and they are valuable, then this is all worth it.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
One Mosquito Down...
Hello Everyone!
Well, our beautiful Leah has safely made to Uganda! After a perilous and tearful goodbye (on my part) at the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport on Tuesday morning, she travelled an exhausting 24 hours and arrived at Entebbe International Airport Wednesday morning our time. From there she has had to make a journey to Kampala (Uganda's capital city) where she was able to take a shower and get some rest before making the roughly 8-hour journey to her new home in Mbara!
She was able to get a phone and sent a text message this morning, for those curious minds here's what she said:
"Safely arrived in ug. Non stop traveling. Can u update blog? Killed 1st mosquito in shower this am."
So, please keep her in your prayers this week especially as she battles exhaustion, jet lag, meeting new faces, seeing old ones and as she moves into her new home. Thank you all for keeping her in your prayers and thoughts...it means more to her than you'll ever know.
On Behalf of Leah - Love,
Caylin
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Eleventh Hour Adventures
Well in 58 hours I will be on a plane heading off to Uganda. I leave from PHX airport, fly to Minneapolis, from there to Amsterdam, and from there to Entebbe. Entebbe is the port of entry into Uganda, where upon arriving at the airport I will request a 90 day visa and pray they grant it. From Entebbe it can be anywhere from a 3-5 hour drive to Mbarara where I will be living.
Tomorrow I will do a final “repack” and hopefully get all my ducks in a row. I am feeling very prepared now, thanks to the creative efforts of my great friends. Yesterday the gang got together in Tucson for one last “hurrah”- SV and T-town friends all together, it was great. My girlfriends, who hosted us all, came up with a game which kept us laughing. Random items from throughout the house were gathered and put in grocery bags. We split into teams and each team had to use the items in their bag to create “survival gear” for me. Let me just say, my friends are BRILLIANT! The end creations were: a pirate talisman to ward off Somali pirate attacks (worn on a lanyard), a paper "privacy screen", a starch grenade, super duper fly swatter, hazmat mask (complete with hands free cell phone device and a tissue for runny noses), utility tiara (with flashlight, emergency brownie, and jewel, and a sling shot of sorts), and a protection elephant (to snuggle with to keep loneliness away, including a miniature hatchet and a pic of a friend to inspire me). They also surprised me with the gift of an incredible travel backpack. Good food, games, and lots of catching up rounded out the evening.
Some questions I was asked last night:
1)How long will I be gone: I am committed to one year (pray the visa application process goes smoothly!)
2)What will I be doing: not precisely sure yet, but I do know I will continue working with children, and continue building relationships with the children I worked with the previous two summers.
3)What will I eat: whatever they feed me (I hope!) lots of rice, matoke (boiled green bananas), and posho (like corn meal) served with beans. Fresh fruit and occasionally goat, fish, cow, chicken.
I am thankful for all the love and support my friends and family have continued to show me. It is humbling and encouraging.
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