Monday, December 29, 2008
think think think. for christmas i went to the ex-street children's home. it is run by sarah, a rwandan and funded by some people from chicago. check out their website www.caringplaceministries.com. basically, they are 15 boys living on the street who had "ganged-up" to work together. sarah had been sponsored by a couple from chicago who wanted to continue their work through her. so instead of going to university in chicago, she took in these 15 boys. they are preparing to go to school in february and i am teaching them english until then. shoot...the internet closes in 5 minutes. to be continued. look at photos of the boys at my flickr.
Monday, December 15, 2008
3 minute blog
i have blisters on my feet because my shoes don't fit right. but at least i have shoes, right? people who don't have shoes don't get blisters, they get tough soles.
it was very very hot today until the breeze came and we went up the hill and a big, dark cloud was overhead. seven giant raindrops fell and it was cold. the african ladies went inside to get their sweaters. i leaned back and could finally breathe.
i bought more than 1 kg of beans, 1 kg of onions, 1 kg of tomatoes, 1/2 kg of green peppers, and 2 bulbs of garlic for 6,000 shillings, about $3. the lady threw in 3 extra carrots and a scoop of beans because i spent so much. i then bought one pineapple and 20 bananas. I was overcharged, in total 3500 shillings for both, less than $2.
one minute.
i at an an african restaurant for dinner. (thanks friends for the experience) we got 2 cones of grasshoppers for appetizer. when we asked the waiter for chips (french fries) he ran across the street and bought them from another place. we got chicken in broth and sweet potatoes and beans and greens. they were good. we asked for a box for the leftovers. the waitress went across the street and bought a small plastic shopping bag. she held it open while we scraped the rice and chicken and potatoes in. we gave it to some street kids on the way to the van.
it was very very hot today until the breeze came and we went up the hill and a big, dark cloud was overhead. seven giant raindrops fell and it was cold. the african ladies went inside to get their sweaters. i leaned back and could finally breathe.
i bought more than 1 kg of beans, 1 kg of onions, 1 kg of tomatoes, 1/2 kg of green peppers, and 2 bulbs of garlic for 6,000 shillings, about $3. the lady threw in 3 extra carrots and a scoop of beans because i spent so much. i then bought one pineapple and 20 bananas. I was overcharged, in total 3500 shillings for both, less than $2.
one minute.
i at an an african restaurant for dinner. (thanks friends for the experience) we got 2 cones of grasshoppers for appetizer. when we asked the waiter for chips (french fries) he ran across the street and bought them from another place. we got chicken in broth and sweet potatoes and beans and greens. they were good. we asked for a box for the leftovers. the waitress went across the street and bought a small plastic shopping bag. she held it open while we scraped the rice and chicken and potatoes in. we gave it to some street kids on the way to the van.
Friday, December 12, 2008
so its been more than a week since the last blog. time travels fast. i've been here for one month now. these days have been so busy and full, sometimes i feel like 3 days worth of activity have past. So my lollipop and unicorn Uganda is being slowly replaced by the reality of living life. As you may have heard, during my first 5 minutes of driving, our van was hit in the rear by a fast moving matatu (van/taxi) fortunately no one was injured, our van was slightly scraped on the bumper, and it was totally the other guy's fault as we were turning and completely in the other lane. Unfortunately, the driver did not see our point of view and a spectacle ensued including yelling, wild gesticulating, attempted theft of keys, and general argumentativeness. Someone ended up calling the police and from there we went through a pretty logical, fair process of filling out a report and getting the van inspected. David, the very nice traffic cop, said I should take the driver to court to teach him a lesson, but the prospect of spending considerable time in Ugandan courts does not appeal to me. (major props to my friends for their help and support and especially their hysterical wild gesturing in my defense) And later that night I pinched my finger in the door of the gate.
The following day we had our buying meeting and someone stole my chacos from right outside. grr. again, much support came my way...."Sorry Auntie, I give you my shoes." Don't worry, i'm not barefoot and hopefully Santa (no not the suubi lady, the mythical gift-giver) will bring me new shoes for xmas.
On the positive side, this week i was invited to do some more Acholi dancing with some suubi women in another village called Soweto. While Melissa and Joe went to attend the birth of a suubi lady's baby, i was escorted by some women to the other side of the tracks (figuratively and literally) They tied a sash around my waist and made me follow in step to drumming and gourding(?) and whistle blowing. Everyone in the area was highly amused. I was invited back for next week. My guess is they enjoy my mzungu-shaking more than my dancing skills.
I continue to visit more women and spend a considerable amount of time chatting and crafting. (and i will reiterate how much i enjoy chatting and crafting while sitting on a mat in the shade) I have also begun to tutor a group of former streetboys who live in a home in my neighborhood. I am attempting to continue Uncle Ian's great work in preparing the boys to begin attending school in February. They are supercute and uber-polite. They are teaching me Lugandan while I teach them English. The suubi ladies continue to instruct me in Acholi Luo. So now i know sheep=endiga=romo. I am learning slowly, slowly.
I am continuing to attempt the opening of bank accounts for the women and setting up "direct deposit" from Suubi to Finca. I was pleased to learn that quite a few of our ladies already have accounts. So we will begin at the beginning and start with them.
I started with our "do everything lady" Betty in the market, where, after they found out i worked for no money, I was enlisted to cut cassava in Betty's friend, Joanne's, "restaurant": two benches a table, some plastic chairs and 3 charcoal stoves bubbling away. It is good african food: matoke, beans, rice, greens, sweet potato, and meat. I had some drinks with the house-friends and continued to on to have a drink and a chat with 2 brothers: a civil engineer and a university lecturer on social work. we attempted to solve the problems of uganda using our intellectual skill and waragi and smirnoff and fanta. i think we made some good progress, but i can't really remember what it was. I do remember that I learned that I live 5 doors down from the mayor of Jinja. They were very nice Ugandan men who introduced me to Juliet, the owner of the establishment.
So its easy to make Ugandan friends while sitting and chatting, but then I walk away and think "Maybe its just because I'm a mzungu and they think that i can do something for them like get them into America or give them money." or in the case of men "Maybe they just want to sleep with me." None of these people Levi, Patrick, Juliet, and Joanne from last night asked for anything or made any overt moves or exposed ulterior motives. (I'll take hand holding from both genders as friendship based only) I guess I will just continue as if they were potential friends from anywhere until they give me a reason to think otherwise. I'm continually thinking about balancing the safety (emotional, physical) with the fact that I want to actually participate with these people and not walk around with the good old subway stare.
Well, time to go. while i've typed, i've listened to madonna, whitney houston, lots of folky jesus music, r.kelly, and usher.
i hope all is well by you and yours.
ps: To CFS: wan wang waribe cachiel. everyone sends their greetings and misses you mucho.
The following day we had our buying meeting and someone stole my chacos from right outside. grr. again, much support came my way...."Sorry Auntie, I give you my shoes." Don't worry, i'm not barefoot and hopefully Santa (no not the suubi lady, the mythical gift-giver) will bring me new shoes for xmas.
On the positive side, this week i was invited to do some more Acholi dancing with some suubi women in another village called Soweto. While Melissa and Joe went to attend the birth of a suubi lady's baby, i was escorted by some women to the other side of the tracks (figuratively and literally) They tied a sash around my waist and made me follow in step to drumming and gourding(?) and whistle blowing. Everyone in the area was highly amused. I was invited back for next week. My guess is they enjoy my mzungu-shaking more than my dancing skills.
I continue to visit more women and spend a considerable amount of time chatting and crafting. (and i will reiterate how much i enjoy chatting and crafting while sitting on a mat in the shade) I have also begun to tutor a group of former streetboys who live in a home in my neighborhood. I am attempting to continue Uncle Ian's great work in preparing the boys to begin attending school in February. They are supercute and uber-polite. They are teaching me Lugandan while I teach them English. The suubi ladies continue to instruct me in Acholi Luo. So now i know sheep=endiga=romo. I am learning slowly, slowly.
I am continuing to attempt the opening of bank accounts for the women and setting up "direct deposit" from Suubi to Finca. I was pleased to learn that quite a few of our ladies already have accounts. So we will begin at the beginning and start with them.
I started with our "do everything lady" Betty in the market, where, after they found out i worked for no money, I was enlisted to cut cassava in Betty's friend, Joanne's, "restaurant": two benches a table, some plastic chairs and 3 charcoal stoves bubbling away. It is good african food: matoke, beans, rice, greens, sweet potato, and meat. I had some drinks with the house-friends and continued to on to have a drink and a chat with 2 brothers: a civil engineer and a university lecturer on social work. we attempted to solve the problems of uganda using our intellectual skill and waragi and smirnoff and fanta. i think we made some good progress, but i can't really remember what it was. I do remember that I learned that I live 5 doors down from the mayor of Jinja. They were very nice Ugandan men who introduced me to Juliet, the owner of the establishment.
So its easy to make Ugandan friends while sitting and chatting, but then I walk away and think "Maybe its just because I'm a mzungu and they think that i can do something for them like get them into America or give them money." or in the case of men "Maybe they just want to sleep with me." None of these people Levi, Patrick, Juliet, and Joanne from last night asked for anything or made any overt moves or exposed ulterior motives. (I'll take hand holding from both genders as friendship based only) I guess I will just continue as if they were potential friends from anywhere until they give me a reason to think otherwise. I'm continually thinking about balancing the safety (emotional, physical) with the fact that I want to actually participate with these people and not walk around with the good old subway stare.
Well, time to go. while i've typed, i've listened to madonna, whitney houston, lots of folky jesus music, r.kelly, and usher.
i hope all is well by you and yours.
ps: To CFS: wan wang waribe cachiel. everyone sends their greetings and misses you mucho.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
ode to ugandan children....
oh how i love the ugandan children.
i love the way they wave and scream "hi, how are you?" I love the way they run and hang on the back of the van, even when ladies jump out and chase them with sticks. I love the way they will give you high-5's over and over and over. I love their snots and spots and slime. I adore the way they cling to the Suubi building and repeat after me, even though I never said "repeat after me."
Ugandan children chew sugar cane and small sticks and rocks and sometimes each other or my hand. They are deathly afraid of dogs, but will cross the street in front of a careening matatu. They will introduce themselves by kneeling in front of you and shaking your hand.
I love the Ugandan children that say "You are round, like a jackfruit" and remember the hokey pokey from weeks ago: "mkono in, mkono out, la-laaa-la-la"
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