The internet in Gulu has been less than efficient this past week. There have been power outages everyday, most happen to come when I get out of school and to Cafe Larem to update my blog...Big weekend for the World Cup so we all figure Gulu was saving the power...
Tuesday at school Elizabeth helped me plan “my” first lesson. She informed me that we would be discussing informal letter writing, somehow aquariums were still included in this discussion. She had the typist type the lesson from the book since there are not enough books for all of the children. We talked about how to present the letter and it’s ideas. After the students read the letter I was to reread it to them, so they could hear my “accent”. My lesson plan seemed incomplete upon first glance but I had faith that I could engage them. I spent the rest of a very long day “marking” their exercise representing plural forms of words. Their notebooks are covered with pictures of the Obama family and my favorite-the cover of Michael Jackson’s “Bad” album-my personal favorite...I was elated and gathered them to ask Elizabeth about it, she said they mourned for days upon his death....The similarities between students across the world are simply amazing...And affirmed is my belief that music can bring people together, even on different continents.
Wednesday was the big day....And it truly was “lesson”...Elizabeth walked in and said, “Today you will listen to Mandy and learn from her.” She then sat down. We discussed the differences in letter writing between here and there, but I had the most fun talking about phrases such as “feeling at home” or “mountains of work”...The students are quick to get out their dictionaries when they do not understand something. I have realized that much like U.S. students they thrive off of interaction and their eyes light up with a high-five or verbal praise. They were in awe of the powerpoint pictures of Chicago and the Shedd Aquarium. I moved around the room and used many hand gestures which had them both engaged and laughing. I taught 3 classes like this that day, each one seemed to go better than the last. I ended the day with a gift from Elizabeth, home-made sim-sim balls for Andy and I, delicious. (She roasts sim-sim, sesame seeds, and rolls them into balls with melted sugar.)
As I waited for Elizabeth to get to school Thursday I decided I could plan a way to engage these students with pen pals from my own classes...Within minutes I had a lesson plan for my students back home which will require a letter to a Ugandan student after receiving one. Elizabeth was elated with the idea and I taught classes that day by discussing what they should tell their “American pen pal”. By the end of Thursday the long 3 teaching days set in and I was exhausted. En route to the latrines I was attacked by “safari ants”...Elizabeth tried to brush them off of my skirt but within seconds I was being bitten all over...”You will have to take your clothes and shake them in the latrine, Mandy”...
Thursday nights have marked a tradition for Bamboo trivia night...Since group 2 has arrived we had an extra large group in competition. (Have I mentioned that I am now in a house with about 30 people and 2 bathrooms???) Trying at times, but all in all a really positive experience...My only child syndrome is slipping away right before my very eyes. We split into 2 teams of munus and answered random questions about soccer, Einstein, and The Rolling Stones. After trivia we started a a large dance party in the grass. John from group 2 was the ringleader, he asks, “Mandy, can you get low?”...I said, “um, duh John!”...(Before I describe the event that took place let me introduce you to John...One of our first encounters was when I walked up beside him and literally had to bend my head all the way up to look at him. He asks if I’m shy, I say no, he picks me up with one arm and lifts me over his head so I can “see what it’s like up here”. He’s close to 7 feet tall, has been a part of the program since the beginning, and has a magnificent appetite for beer.)...So, I “get low” and before I knew it John’s huge legs were swinging over my head. Absolutely hilarious and thankfully Andy’s amazing photographer instincts caught a shot or 2 on camera.
Friday morning was extremely relaxing; we drank coffee in the back yard, listened to music, and embraced Gulu time. After an awesome morning the day got even better as Andy surprised me with a “half way to my birthday” gift, an incredible scarf that he had made in the market with my favorite fabric....This is incredible for my than one reason; I thought the fabric was gone, and they did not understand the concept of a scarf so he had to draw it...Not an easy feat in the depths of the market which is dark, extremely hot, and incredibly crowded with people, bodas, garbage, and unidentified liquids. We were able to watch the 2 big soccer games, both ending sadly. Luckily Julie and Pablo kept their cool when Brazil lost and Ugandans stayed calm when Ghana lost. There was something magical about roaming the streets on the way home and hearing screams and horns from every direction...So, Africa unites for soccer...
Saturday was our big 4th of July party...Andy and I headed out early Saturday for an unsuccessful skype attempt (no internet). We were on “snack crew” for our party and began scouring the market for our groceries. Again, a hilarious adventure as we shuffled through aisles of dried fish, fruits, shoes, and other random things to search for ingredients for guac and mango salsa. Upon prepping for the party Andy, Lisa, and I worked diligently in the tiny pantry preparing possibly the best guac and salsa I have ever tasted with extremely limited resources (example: cutting avocados with a meat clever and mincing garlic with a butter knife). I am learning the true definition of being resourceful. Before the party started we got to watch traditional African dancers in the front yard. It was absolutely beautiful...Before long there was a crowd of Acholi around the chain link fence and it was more of a community viewing. The party was a combination of other I.C. staff, our 2 groups, and many Ugandans. We ate, drank, and stayed very merry. By the end of the night D.J. Billie stood on the porch and played us an outstanding mix of Michael Jackson’s “Will You Be There” 3 times in a row. There are some songs that will forever bring Africa back to my memory and thankfully this is one of them. All of us united in the front yard and sang the lyrics louder each time. Priceless.
Sunday marked another historic event as we celebrated the real 4th of July with a delicious pizza dinner at “our new spot”...It happens to be owned by munus and the menu boasts veggie trays, hamburgers,and yes, pizza!!! I can’t say that I missed being at home for this one, maybe I could have used a sparkler or bottle rocket but I think my Africa holiday was better than any I’ve had.
It was a week of great teaching experiences, more hilarious memories with my new “family”, and a continued fairytale journey into the unknown with someone I feel like I’ve known forever. Hard to believe we are more than half way through our time here; 6 weeks no longer seems long enough.
Today is Monday and I had my meeting with a mentor. The mentors work for I.C. and travel to families’ homes to keep them updated on their children's’ progress and happenings at their schools. We met at I.C. headquarters around the corner from the house where Richard told me I needed to wear pants (I knew something was up because it was the first time in Africa that I was not only told to wear pants but also that I should sit “like a man” on our boda ride.) After changing I was welcomed to the boda by Richard with a helmet in his hand for me, “It will be safer”, he says. To be honest I was a bit weary of where we could be traveling to. It was a long boda ride, about 45 minutes where most of the time was spent on extremely bumpy roads and narrow paths. The scenery was amazing; we passed empty idp camps, oxen “plowing” fields, and a forest preserve. The home we were visiting was alone surrounded by tobacco crops. The hut we approached was just that, a hut with a grass roof. There were 5 small children sitting on the ground surrounded by many chickens, a pig, and a dog. Two of them were only wearing shirts and one was completely unclothed. Richard said they were a bit scared because they had never seen a motorbike. Richard spoke to the student’s sister and asked to meet his older brother (considered guardian) and mother. She rode her bike into the fields to get him while Richard explained the ways of life here. There were no latrines, no holes in the ground, it just wasn’t economically possible here yet. He explained the faith in God that these people had as they prayed for good rain. Their crops marked their success, and without rain, there were no crops. He explained their loss in faith when sometimes they wondered if such suffering could occur with a God. He traveled to the U.S. on I.C.’s last tour and although marveled with our “simplicities”, said he would have it no other way. He admitted that Africa had a long way to come but felt the “communal” attitude of the country would pull them through. He was saddened to know that many Americans do not know who lives around them, let alone right next store to them.
After a while the student’s brother appeared and Richard began the meeting. He knew how to speak some English and Richard did a good job of translating what was being said. The student attended my school, Sir Samuel Baker, and unfortunately was not performing well academically. During the last term he had gotten malaria....There was no excuses though, there were many students fighting for these scholarships from I.C. and Richard wanted to be sure everyone understood the academic responsibilities to the program.
The meeting got more difficult as I learned that their father was killed by the rebels. He was brutally beaten to death with a stick in front of both of them. The brother looked into the distance with blank stare as he shared the details. Richard told me that the reason the rebels killed parents in front of their children was to ensure the children had no hope left of going home. I tried to control the warm tears that slid down my face when he shared how proud of his brother he was, as he shared how thankful he was for I.C., for making his brother the smartest one in their family (he had to drop out of school to take care of other siblings). The mother arrived shortly after and did not speak any English although she could read it. She began to cry when she read the report card that Richard had brought. She held my hands and told me many times that she was thankful for me, and that I was very welcome. She was proud to show me into her home and laid a small blanket on the floor for me to sit on. I learned how the hut was built, that the grass roof lasts for 5 years, and how she makes peanut butter. The one phrase in English that she did know she repeated many times, “God bless you”. I don’t know that I have ever said that to someone in person, but I repeated it back to her every single time. The entire day lent me the reward of a true cultural experience and once again of knowing I was right where I was supposed to be. Richard will meet me at school tomorrow when he meets with the student for the first time...
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