Good Things

I realized that maybe my blog posts seem negative or only highlight the frustrations I face, so I am dedicating this update to only good things. Here are ten, in no particular order.

1) Rebekah: my roomie, new sister, skilled adventurer, and brilliant chemistry teacher. Bekah is gutsy and strong. She is all about trying new things and challenging herself (and consequently me!!). I am blown away by her ability to teach chemistry without books, a lab, or any supplies in a rural village school. I giggle every time I think about her “computer” class – which is mandatory according to the school administration- because not only are there no computers to teach with, but there is no power to run them off of either. I have been helping out in the class (JB- I am now an artist!!) drawing the full keyboard on the blackboard for students to copy as she lectures. We can share clothes and shoes, share a love of coffee and books and music.
Me and Bekah in our new outfits ready for church (our US clothing is already experiencing holes.... hand washing is not delicate here)

2) Pineapple: and other fresh fruit. DELICIOUS. It rocks my socks off. Also enjoying passion fruit, sugar cane, various types of bananas, avocados, and the occasional watermelon.

3) Hugs: I get great hugs from great kids all day long. My favorite hugs come from the kids I have known since 2006. They are grown up but still are willing to give me hugs! I know, I know, you aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I can’t help loving the ones I have watched grow (even from a distance). [insert moment of pride welling up inside of me- my kids are sooo neat!! They are leaders at their school and they are hard workers and tons of fun to be with]

4) Random life events: I am concerned that I am becoming desensitized to all the randomness of life in Uganda. For instance; it is totally normal for me to expect to be able to purchase milk from a “diary”, rice and beans in the stationary shop, and wholesale eggs at the cell phone shop. African food only at a “Japanese restaurant”, eating without silverware, and having to pay to use public toilets. The gathering location for all JAM people in Kabale is a hardware shop (where we try not to upset piles of nails), when people ask for a hammer what they really mean is a rock flat enough to hit things with, and always remembering to tuck a few sheets of TP somewhere on my person when leaving the house. US events seem to greatly influence sign posts here- we have “obama supermarket” “yes we can bar and take away” and I am always smiling at signs heralding “friendly butcher”, “trustful salon” and other such descriptions.

5) Laughter: Bekah and I laugh consistently throughout the day. There is so much to laugh about. (I can’t decide if it is really because things are funny, or because laughing seems like a better option than crying). Most days though it is because things are just too silly not to laugh at. Case in point: one of our brothers was given precise instructions by Bekah to feed me when I got home one day…. He followed her instructions to the letter, much like Amelia Bedelia would do. I was treated to a slice of bread, with peanut butter, and salted sliced tomatoes. (a peanut butter tomato salt sandwich to be precise). Which I of course ate!

6) Soda: Krest- Bitter Lemon Soda and Stoney – ginger soda, are wild bursts of flavor in my mouth. The Krest is called “reverends drink” cause Christian reverends don’t drink alcohol, so they take krest. If you drink Stoney too quickly you get this crazy throat burn/head rush from the intense ginger. After staying in the village, the flavors and the coldness and the carbonation are fun and even shocking.

7) Rukiga Teachers: so many individuals are willing to help teach me the language. I have to be firm though, I want to learn the Rukiga spoken in my district, not town Rukiga, not Runyakore, and I want to learn the proper way of speaking, not the good enough way. I have a notebook filled with words and phrases I have collected. One of my kids from 2006 still faithfully revises my notebook and writes tests for me- he is a great teacher!

8) My Ugandan Family: I have three UG brothers who are awesome. (granted in this culture, lots of people in the church are referred to as “brother” or “sister”, but these three are legit). Sam, Pat and Wellen love Rebekah and me and take such good care of us. They are never ashamed to be seen with us, never get embarrassed when we don’t “get” certain cultural norms, and are such troopers, helping us shop for ANYTHING we need. They are silly with us (yes, its true, even your girl Leah has silly moments). They teach us practical skills like how to wash clothes, how to cook on charcoal stoves, and are faithful to look out for us wherever we go. I feel “at home” with them and I thank God for sending me three strong brothers to “have my back”. I am comfortable asking them anything and I feel confident in their wiliness to help me and Bekah whenever we need it. All three have at one time come all the way out to the village (even just for ten minutes after hours of travelling) to bring us things we need. I am blessed. Aunt and Uncle Twinamatsko were my hosts for the first two weeks in UG and I genuinely enjoyed getting to know them. They have made it clear that whenever I need a break I am welcome to come home to them.

Me, Bekah, and Pat on the Bus to Kabale
Bekah and Me, Wellen and Sam

9) My “Boss” the Headmaster at KHHS (the school I work at)- he and his wife are two of our strongest allies in the village. Every time he goes to town he brings something back for us girls (fresh carrots, a green pepper, a few tomatoes- you get the idea). He is supportive and doesn’t treat us as outsiders or as visitors. I admire his willingness to hear our ideas and our concerns and to implement changes as needed. His lovely wife is ever trying to feed us and treats us as accepted members of the community, not as the “newbies”. He is quick to stand up for us and set strait the various “stories” floating around the community.

10) My US community / Family: I am truly loved. I am thrilled that (when conditions are favorable – ie: charged phone, money on my phone, and standing on the proper hill to get signal) I can text my sis to get advice about treating wounds, receive texts from my beloved friends and cousins, keep in contact with the home front, and send out emergency “prayer sos” messages. I am thankful for all the love and prayers from those back in the USA and I am confident that should a need arise; it would be taken care of.

so somehow this pic wont rotate, but Bekah and I on the way to the lake - hiking in skirts, carrying our backpacks about to head to Kampala

Goody Two Shoes Report Needed

After leaving Kishanje we reached Kabale, spent the night at Edirisa, our favorite hostel, and then left early the next morning to catch the post bus to Mbarara. We reached Mbarara safely, and spent the day going back and forth in town, trying to get the needed documents for the visa process and meeting with various individuals. RA (henceforth known as “bekah” – since I have her permission to talk about her!!) and I “kidnapped” our beloved Benja for lunch and took our favorite boy for chips in town.

I can’t remember if I shared this already, so forgive me if I am redundant. For those of you who aren’t aware (here comes the dirty laundry!) I get angry when I perceive injustices, stupidity, or when people do something I don’t like…. So I have struggled with being angry at certain cultural practices. For example, my blood boils when people interfere with me and Bekah spending time with our Benja.
Benja is a special child to my heart. I first met him in 2007 when he was brought to the children’s home from a refugee camp near the Rwandan border. At the time he was severely malnourished and stunted in growth, we guessed he was around 2-3 years old. Fast forward to today- Bekah and I have determined that he is 5, almost six, and sat down with him to pick a birthday. May 5th he will “turn six”. I can best describe my boy as “everyone’s child and no one’s child”- something which breaks my heart. He is very intelligent and has incredible observational skills. Bekah and I share clothes and he is the ONLY one who identifies which item belongs to which girl (without us asking him). “Aunt Le’s Skirt” he says to Bekah. He likes to sit on our lap and “style” our hair- does a good job too! When we are in Mbarara we make sure his clothes are washed and that he bathes. I rub golden seal salve all over him and put tea tree oil in his hair (to take care of the head fungus). He loves being clean and loves snuggling afterwards with a book. Often he falls asleep in my lap and I sing lullabies to him and pray for him.

Benja is young. He spent the first two years of his life not having enough food, living in tents/shacks, experienced the death of his mom, grandma, and who knows who else, and then moved into a children’s home as one of 30 other kids. Consequently, he didn’t get held or snuggled or loved on as much as he should have. It is my prerogative and my priority to love on Benja whenever he needs it. And he needs it. Anyway, back to the getting angry part…. It is not understood by some local individuals why I would choose to spend time with an orphan child. I have been chastised for wasting time and people have actually tried to physically remove him from my arms when he is sleeping because “he is too old”. I get angry. I never thought of myself as a “revolutionary” before… but apparently that is now part of my resume. I tell adults and children alike that you are never too old to be hugged, never too big to be loved and there is always time for hugs throughout the day. The young kids at the children’s home love being held and hugged and even my secondary students sneak in hugs throughout the day (when they aren’t being too cool). So, your revolutionary girl is fighting a battle against unjust biases against orphans, age, and being affectionate.

Anyway, Wednesday was a long day as we boarded the night bus from Mbarara to Kampala. Some of the ABIDE guys dropped us off at the gas station (where the night buses pick passengers from) and we began the four hour ride of bumpy roads, snoring drunks, and loud music (pretty sure the same six songs played the ENTIRE time). Arrived in Kampala at 4:30 am found a sketchy “special hire” and found our way to our host’s house. Breakfast and paperwork and then a nap – a nap which lasted 21 minutes. (yes, I know it was 21 minutes, and it sucked) Our ride came to get Bekah and I to head into town to begin the visa process.

We need “missionary visas” so we can stay in UG for more than 90 days. If we don’t get the long term visa we have to cross over to Rwanda every 3 months. Time consuming and costly. It is a ridiculously involved process, and despite all our research Bekah and I still weren’t prepared. Upon arriving at the immigration offices we discovered that we needed to submit: letter of invitation, cover letter, proof of qualification, letter of acceptance, criminal background check (from our home country), and the two application forms. Each letter is addressed to a different person / office. So we had to call our Mommas to help us out. (scan our college diplomas, our resumes, and get a “goody two shoes report” from somewhere official).

We tried going to the American embassy here to ask for advice (and to see if they could help us out with the background stuff) only to discover that they don’t actually let Americans in the embassy. Amazing. The only way you can get in, or even talk to an American is to make an appointment (on line by the way) for either Monday or Wednesday morning from 7:30-11 am. Not kidding. We were a bit irked to say the least.

It has been kind of overwhelming being in the city. Kampala is huge and swarming with people. It is hot and loud and chaotic. All day today I was thinking “I want to go home, back to our village” back to the peaceful quiet. Sure, you can’t get a cold drink at home, or milk, or cheese, or even public transportation. Sure, having power is amazing, computers are awesome, being able to get fresh fruit is great, and our host family is terrific. BUT. But it isn’t home. Kampala stresses me out. The mass of humanity. The pollution. The noise. The lack of courtesy and kindness. The busyness of the streets. The frustration at spending four hours in traffic getting absolutely no where. Missing the kids. Really missing being with the kids.
Pray that the whole visa process goes smoothly. I am a bit anxious about a few of the details and so I am hoping for favor and grace from the committees and officials. I will keep you posted.

Back to Civilization

Yes, I am alive. I realize it has been a while, but believe me when I say- Kishanje is REMOTE. To get to electricity, internet and fresh fruit first we hike down the mountains, hills, and over a stream (twice) to reach the “docks” at our side of Lake Bunyoni. We call “Alfred” to come pick us up (if another boat isn’t there) and cross the lake. Arriving on the other side we catch bodas or a “taxi” to take us to Kabale Town. The hike is a solid 50 minutes filled with breathtaking nature, weird critters, multiple children, and perilous jumps, skips, hops, and prayers. The boat ride is about 20 minutes, the bodas take 30 minutes (during which time I close my eyes and pray we don’t crash) and then we reach Kabale. Gad and the gang at “edirisa” welcome us at the hostel and we revel in the availability of power for charging phones and computers.

Much has happened since I last updated. So much in fact it seems surreal. Here are some highlights:
One of my kids after looking at the photo album I brought: “Aunt, your clan produces large people”

Dean of Students at the school I work at: “You are beautiful when you speak Rukiga”

Valentine’s Day: feeling a bit melancholy since it would be the first V-day without flowers from my dad…. Three of my kids giving me flowers and wishing me a “happy vday and Sunday”. Per their request I wore them in my hair the next day. Such a sweet gesture. How loved I felt!!

Adjusting to village life has been a challenge, even for this girl who grew up in a small town. RA and I faced some pretty hardcore opposition when we came together to Kishanje, and it is by the grace of God that we are fine and healthy. Kishanje has a longstanding history of witchcraft, ancestor worship, and tough “lessons”. It was rough going for a while, but thanks to the support of some incredible friends and prayers from those back home, we are now doing well. One of the less threatening challenges has been the multitude of rumors floating around since our arrival.

By far, the most humorous and least ill-willed rumor about me is as follows: (Background: one of our most faithful and sweet friends here who is always willing to help us girls with Whatever we need has a field he watches for his family, a plot of land where they plant crops} Laban went to check his potato crop and discovered that the potatoes had been dug up already (aka: stolen). He saw some people near his land and went to ask them if they knew anything, indeed they did, it seems that that evil Leah had come in December in her airplane and stolen the harvest, carrying it back to her country to feed her family.

No, I am not kidding.

RA and I laugh about what will happen when we return to civilization. Who played “Oregon Trail” growing up? It is pretty much my life. We cross mountain ranges, buy beans and rice in burlap sacks to carry with us to the wilderness, wash clothes by hand, eat dinner by candle light or kerosene lantern, and wake to the local drummer telling the village it is now six a.m. In true Ugandan style, we eat from the same plate when taking lunch at school. When the rain comes we run around like crazed people collecting all the containers we can for catching the water (so we don’t have to carry jerry cans full of water from the top of the hill down to where we live). RA is a full fledged member of the NBA and I am a reluctant joiner (Non Bathing Association) – we ration our water use. Sundays are special days for us- we add powdered milk and a spoon of sugar to our “coffee” calling it “milk coffee day”.

I am officially known as “Counselor Leah” at school, or “aunt leah” to the kids. It is a strange concept to have a school counselor here, but they are warming to the idea. I have made it my goal to learn the names of all of the secondary students and it is a challenge. I have been asked to develop a curriculum to share with all the staff and teachers from all three centers covering child development. At the school I am beginning “talks” with groups of students to discuss AIDS/HIV, Love, Abuse, STDs STIs, physical changes, etc. Obviously I am working on learning Rukiga to facilitate those conversations.

One of the highlights of my week is trekking down to the “pitch” for sports days. Each trip to and fro I walk with a different group of students. It is a great time to talk and get to know them in a non threatening environment. I was super psyched when one of the boys showed me “amalebe” known to me as “rhubarb” growing wild in the marsh. Now weekly I get fresh amalebe and omufungwa (which is kind of like tart celery) to bring home for dinner. Washed, chopped, and slightly boiled with lemon juice it is a nice change from beans and posho, rice and potatoes.

By the way- these boys are amazing to me. They play football (soccer) whole heartedly and passionately – without “boots”- no cleats. On Wednesday one of the boys was kicking the ball in from one end of the field and kicked so hard/accurately that he scored a goal – on the other end of the field. Totally serious. I was blown away. He then proceeded to do a back flip in celebration. The strength of these kids who sometimes get only one meal a day is incredible.

Mom and Dad sent me with some biofreeze/sombra etc which I brought to the pitch on the day my team was playing. (The school was divided into four “houses” for sports competitions. My house rocks) I was elected team doctor which makes me happy (I get to be with the kids!) and scares me (cause if they really get hurt…. Ummm…) anyway…. Now all students and even the teachers are coming to me with their “sports injuries” one morning I had to look at three feet all before I even reached the school! (mom, please send more biofreeze!!!)

I wish I could introduce to you the students I work with. Some are harder for me to love than others, some are still skeptical of me being here, and others continue to amaze me with their sweet natures. Throughout the year I will try to introduce you to some of the characters I interact with on a daily basis.

Last Sunday I was informed that I was being given full authority of Caleb, a special needs student here in the village. He had been taken from a school for special needs kids in Mbarara and brought here. Let me assure you, I did not ask for this authority, nor was I prepared for such a responsibility, but here we are…
Kind of overwhelming to be honest. I decided to begin by bringing him to the secondary school with me. First thing I did was announce at school assembly that he would be joining us and I gave clear and strict guidelines of how interactions with Caleb would go. The student body has been great with the exception of one group of boys. Consequently I made them Caleb’s special buddies. They are responsible for hanging out with him during break, taking him to get lunch, and making sure he gets home safely. There was resistance at first, but today (on caleb’s off day) five of the boys asked me where he was. Success!

Final thoughts: shout out to my cousin who hooked me up with all the cool gear…. Today I made an indoor clothesline with parachute cord because it would not stop raining and we needed clean clothes. Take that mother nature!!

camping

surprise! its me! your long lost blogger girl.

RA and i had to make a hasty trip to civilization to pick up some items we need for living in the village. let me paint you a picture:

CAMPING

the house we stay in is rustic, with wonderful views, nature lovers would love the nightly visitors we have and those who love stars would be in paradise.

there is no power and there is no water. RA and i have been sore all week as we are developing the new muscles needed for carrying jerry cans of water down the mountain to our home. let me tell you, i am so out of shape. everything hurts right now! (previously RA collected rain water, but it has been DRY)

life in Kishanje is hard. our diet consists of rice, beans, peas,maize flour and dodo- a green plant we found and have figured out how to cook. it is kind of nice walking outside, down the various paths, and figuring out what plants we can and cant eat. some we definitely cant eat. any fruits or other veggies we want to eat we have to carry in from Kabale town. limits our diet for sure.

the best thing about being in kishanje is the peace i feel and the absolute joy i have when being with the kids. there are so many new names floating around in my head right now.

the hardest thing about being there is .... spiders.... i have always struggled with fearing spiders and for some reason, in kishanje, they LOVE me. RA says she never saw spiders till i moved in. Daddy long legs have set up camp in our outside squatty potty, which i have almost adjusted to - we have an agreement. i wont smoke them out with fire if they stay on the wall and dont crawl towards me. the ones that i am fighting now are these radioactive experiment looking ugly blackish huge spiders that seem to love my room, they enjoy hanging out on my bed, and chillin in my clothes. PRAISE GOD for RA who doesnt fear them. She valiantly chases them away. As i dont fear RATS, our other nightly visitors, and she does, I chase them. A good team!

We also share our home with a few families of birds. they are nice but have a tendency to shed feathers on my bed which i dont really like.... and they drink our water out of the basin we have kept it in.... so we have to work that out.

To get to town RA and i got up early thursday am, hiked down the "precipce of death mountain trails" and over the "rivers of wettness" to reach lake bunyoni. our good friend W joined us and the three of us sang our way over the mountain, we were joined by two young girls who sang with us.

reaching the docks RA called a boat over and we crossed the massive lake safely. two "taxi" rides later we reached mbarara - 8 hrs later!

we had to shop for cooking pans and plates and other household goods.... tomorrow we journey back and do the whole trip in reverse.

many other adventures to share with you all, hopefully i can update again in a few weeks.

thanks for prayers!! please keep praying. love you all.