Dreaming

I dream about Uganda. At night, I go to bed and during my dreams scenes from the Ugandan country side slide through my head. Dancing with children, meeting with mothers so desperate to help their kids, meeting with men who are hopeless and have given up to drink their lives away. At night, I leave my comfortable mattress, in my warm home in the middle of the United States and travel to Africa in my dreams. I was really close to landing a job that would have put me in south eastern Africa. I was so excited to get back to my second home, to work with the people I love. The job didn't pan out. So instead, I visit Uganda in my dreams every night. Praying that someday I will be able to return to my favorite part of the world.

Jubilee!

Every fall the churches in the area get together for a Jubilee celebration. Jubilee comes from the the Old Testament, or Torah, in Leviticus 25. I'll let y'all look it up if you want to read it here Leviticus 25

Our modern rendition of Jubilee happened this past week. People in the community donate stuff. Piles of clothing, food, furniture, and toys. Individuals who have a need for anything can come and choose what they want to take home. In addition to the stuff, there are also bounce houses for the kids, dentists for a free check-up and booths advertising for various services. My dear friend Beth has been involved with Jubilee since its inception. I have heard about the celebration for years but was finally able to take part!

Here is a bit of the crowds. There were lines and lines of people! It was incredible!

Beth's child, Cora was so happy to see her Papa (grandpa) and get a balloon! We had a lot of fun together.

Finally, here is my Mom and her friend Marcy. They have a free ESL class for women who want to improve their English. They had a both to advertise the class.

I am so glad to be in Minnesota and to be able to be part of our community's Jubilee!

Coffee Shop Watchin'

This morning I spent some time in a coffee shop in my town. While the majority of my time was spent job hunting, I did a bit of people watching as well. I love people watching. My main reason is because you get to know the culture of the place, the nuances of its people, and the realities they face. People's dress, body language, hair, interactions, drink orders, and companions all say something.

Minnesotans are funny people. They are fiercely loyal. They are usually quite nice but it will take years to actually get to know them. They take pride in their ability to live and thrive through four dramatically different seasons. They value family- not just your partner and a few kids- but the whole crew, grandparents to new babies and everyone in between.

I enjoyed watching the mama's in the coffee shop with their faded jeans and printed 3/4 length t-shirts gabbing about their kid's soccer practice and how relieved they are that school just started. I got a kick out of watching the insecure teenage couple who were trying so hard to act confident. The business men in the corner with their legal pads and serious discussions. The Baristas acting way to chipper and friendly while helping their customers feed their addiction to caffeine. Life in a Minnesota Coffee Shop is good. Comical in a way. Removed from the realities of the poverty of the world but still faced with daily battles of living.

So is my life in Minnesota. The routine of job searching, making lunch with my mother and sitting on the deck, followed by errands or reading before dinner must be made. Gone are the days of fearing for my life as I am pushed into an over-crowded taxi in Uganda. Yet I can not complain. Another adventure, I'm sure, is on the horizon in the form of a paid job. In the meantime, I will just sip my coffee, applying for jobs, and enjoy the culture of Minnesota.

Where have I been?

I've been gettin' around! Since returning from Uganda I have been to the following places and done the following things:

I spent half a week in Florida, watching my brother and his college baseball team. It was pretty fun! My other brother came down for the weekend, and for the first time in more than seven months, my entire family was together. Unfortunately it was short lived and a day later we all scattered. But I still was able to get quality time in with my brothers!



My mother and I drove to eastern Wisconsin to visit grandparents on both sides. It always amazes me at how different my culture and generation is than theirs. Despite our differences, I always love being with my grandparents. I spent a few days with my mothers parents. We went on a drive through a state park, stopped to climb the watch tower, and then over to meet the park ranger. My grandfather is good friends with her and we had good chat. She then let me hold bird seed in my hand and chickadees landed to feed. It was a thrilling experience to feel their delicate bodies on my fingers.


We then went south a few hours to see my dad's mother. We spent the day going from one quilt shop to the other, looking at fabric. We also stopped at Starbucks where I was able to introduce my grandmother to the coffee chain for the very first time! Her opinion was that it was too expensive and the coffee too strong! Who can blame her when she can go to McDonalds and get a cup of coffee for 50 cents?




A few weeks after my Wisconsin trip I went to Chicago to watch baseball again. This time my wonderful cousin joined my parents and I. We had a great time hanging out, talking about life, and watching baseball!




Directly after Chicago I flew to Boston. I'm tellin' ya- I am getting around this spring! I impulsively purchased a plane ticket, at 2:00AM, with all my delta air miles. I couldn't sleep and I just decided to go for it. I woke up the next morning thinking- what the heck did I do!? For those of you who know me well, I do not buy things, that expensive, on a whim. Well, this impulsive purchase worked out well. I had major writing to do on my thesis and I needed to focus. I was at the school for 12 hours a day, primary working on my paper. It was a huge blessing to be able to just focus and write. It was good to be back in Boston, see friends, and remember that I am still a student despite not being on campus all year long!



This weekend I have been writing and putting the final touches on my paper. It occurred to me today that I successfully was able to take an exciting six months of living in Uganda and turn it into a dry, technical paper. Since I have been back I have been analyzing one particular school I worked with and the community in which it is located. I realized this morning that I got to the point where the soul of the paper had died and that it was just facts on a blank page. I never want to forget the incredible experience I had working and living in Uganda. The people, the smiles, the smells, the food, the passion, the drive to change things- that is what makes up this dear country. Not a bunch of statistics written by an expat.

So where to next?
Chicago in a few weeks for my brother's college graduation.
Boston to present my paper and celebrate my graduation.
Sri Lanka to celebrate a dear friend's wedding.

And then hopefully back to East Africa to continue working. This time it won't be with Fount, but hopefully I will land a job with an equally amazing organization. I will keep you posted!

Jackfruit? Really?

I am totally and completely craving jackfruit. You can see it below. This sweet, sticky fruit was a staple in my village diet. And this past week I have been craving it like mad. Seriously? Jackfruit!



Jackfruit was sold on the corner of my street by a sweet woman. Jackfruit grew in my backyard. Jackfruit was served at my village goodbye. Jackfruit is everywhere in Uganda!

I am craving it to the point that I googled it to see if I could buy it in Minnesota- nothing came up. I then went to amazon, the place where if you need it in the states- they sell it. You can buy canned jackfruit. Now that sounds disgusting. Jackfruit, canned in syrup? I'll just say nasty. So my next step is to go to the African store in my town. I'm hoping they will have some leads for me. If not, I might just be crazy enough to buy a plane ticket back to Uganda. Okay- maybe not that crazy. But what happens when I am pregnant and craving crazy international foods unavailable in the states? Let us just hope that never happens.

Interview

In December and January I had the opportunity to meet Liza. She is a good friend of Tara, a coworker/friend, and came to see her get married and volunteer a bit. She stayed in my room and spiced things up. It was so fun to have her around. When she came to Jinja, she started a blog and started to interview people for her "Friday Face". Well- I am her "Friday Face" today. Check out the interview here: lulus friday face. I also suggest you check out and read her other entries- she has a great blog!

State Side

So I am back in the states. I cried as the wheels lifted from the tarmac in Entebbe. Uganda is a home and I'm not sure when I will return. However, I will tell you that I will return someday.

The people at the airport in Entebbe refused to check my bags all the way through. Which meant that I ensured their safe arrival by checking my bags in every time I got to an airport. This lead me to have to go through the London customs to retrieve my bags which lead me to miss my flight! Not to worry, I was put on the next flight and I was fine. Besides that, my flights were normal and somehow went very quickly.

Re-entry is a bit different this time.

I made dinner last night and you know what I made? Beans and rice. As I was chopping the onion and garlic I realized that everything going into my meal I could get in Uganda. It was at this point that I realized I might be missing my life there a bit more than I knew. Did I really just sub-consciously make a meal that I could and did eat on a regular basis in Uganda? Uhm, yup- I did.


Besides that- the normal re-entry of being a bit overwhelmed with the amount of choice Americans have (I mean- how many types of cereal do you need!?) and the gluttony of my culture. Yet I am enjoying it too! Real cheese, clean roads, a car (!), fast internet- all things that I didn't get in Uganda.

I've decided to keep up the blog. So keep following if you wish. The next three months will be full of a few domestic trips (Florida and Boston) while I also work hard on my paper. Should be an interesting season of life but I am looking forward to it.

Mental Pictures

Every time I am about to move or enter a new season of life, I often find myself taking as many mental pictures as I possibly can. Usually through this mental photography a few will last through the years. This time is not the same. I thought, perhaps I can give a glimpse into my mental images I am storing up.

1. Walking through the village, passing the endless gardens of food. The sugar can stalks are tall, green, and when mature have feathers on top. The are so close together that if you walk into the field a few feet no one could see you and you could not see them. Walking next to them reminds me of walking next to corn on a hot summer day. The coffee trees are full of berries, green, red, and bunch together. The knowledge that this coffee could end up in my cup of joe in the states amazes me. Walking through these fields, I come across women carrying firewood, bananas, beans, water on their heads as they bow to greet me. The children wearing just a t-shirt, often hold my hand as I make way to home to home.




2. Riding on the back of a motorcycle, at 30 MPH, without a helmet in town traffic. The breeze whips through my hair, I close my eyes and smile as I zoom past traffic. My favorite time to ride a boda is at night, when I can gaze at the stars going by as my driver safely brings me to my destination.

3. My office is behind a tourist craft shop. I often find myself sitting on the front step of the shop, facing main street with my friends and Ugandan family. We watch customers pass by, politicians, parades, and the normal flow of traffic. We huddle in whatever shady corner, talking about the days events. Eventually 3-month old baby Maggie is passed to me and I am caught up in baby talk and mesmerized by her chubby cheeks.

4. Sitting on the front step of my house, scratching the guard dogs ears as their tails wag back and forth. Meanwhile, Muffin, my dog is practically attacking the guard dogs in a fit of jealousy.

5. Laughing with my friends and co-workers around the long table with green table-cloth. Usually eating amazing home-cooked dinner such as lemon-peppered fish and potatoes. The conversation lasts for hours and then turns into a game of scrabble where I usually loose.

There are just a few of my mental pictures I am capturing as I go through my final days in Uganda. They will be stored in a special place in my head and heart, retrieved in the future when I need to remember and feel as if I am in Uganda. Every place I live or work, I have these mental pictures- and you know what? It helps. It helps when I move so much to remember the good times, and know that where I am at the moment I will soon have to capture new mental pictures for the future.

Edith-My Friend

I said my first goodbye today. My dear friend, Edith, is on her way back to boarding school. Edith is a ball of energy! She loves to laugh, to sing, and to joke around. Her father married one of my coworkers. And as a result, they moved into the back house of the compound. It took some time to adjust to having an eleven year-old around the house. However, I am so glad she came to stay! Her early Saturday morning wake-up calls, through my bedroom window at 7:30am or her constant singing of high school musical songs brought joy to our home. Her love for pre-teen movies is pretty extensive and I have more than once had to relocate my work for her to watch Hannah Montana, Alvin and the Chipmunks or High School Musical. Oh- I also taught her how to make cut out Christmas cookies- she loved it!



Edith has a tender side as well. She cares about people. She watches and learns and repeats many things. She is able to organize and mobilize the older teenagers in her community very well. I also had the privilege of watching her get baptized this past weekend. I literally cried as this sweet girl professed her faith before her church.



So when January 31, 2011 came to be- it was very difficult to see Edith pack her things in a red suitcase, tenderly place her recent artwork in her backpack, put on her bright blue uniform and get into her father’s van. As I hugged her goodbye, tears strolled down my face. I know that I will see Edith again, and hopefully it will be before she is a Broadway star! However, Edith’s departure means that soon I will be boarding her father’s van with my red suitcase on my way to the airport.

Focus on Community Schools

This past week I walked through the sugar cane fields, past the coffee trees, and through the leaves of past seasons. I moved from home to home, recruiting people to come and share their opinions of the community school in the village. At each home, I was warmly welcomed and the many greetings were paced back and forth.


Grandma of a few of the children who attend the community school.

A few days later, I found these friendly faces surrounding me as they shared their passion for their children and the education in which they receive. They told me they want their children to be doctors, lawyers, teachers, and tour guides. Never once did farming make the list of professions. They told me that they don’t send their young children to the government UPE (universal primary education) School because it was too dangerous for them to cross the main highway (which is true, many children are killed every year by cars because they failed to step out of the way) and that the teachers only cared about a select few. They told me that at the very least, they want their children to know how to read and write in Lusoga and English and to be able to calculate math problems.



This week, the faces of twenty men and women, mostly grandparents who are looking after their children’s children, shown brightly. They are proud of their children, proud that they have a school in the community that meets their needs.

Community schools are common in Sub-Saharan Africa. They meet in churches, mosques, under mango trees and in mud huts. The community recruits the teachers, figures out how to feed their children, and pay the salary. As the international community continues to advocate for UPE, communities do the same- but in a different manner. They actually make it work.

stunning...

Photo taken by my friend Annie Quick

Morning Sounds

Every morning there is a pattern the sounds that mark the beginning of the day. Since having a few volunteers staying with me in my room, I have been made aware, again, of how different the sounds are than the states.


Throughout the night, the town dog chorus howls throughout the city. This, unfortunately, includes my dogs. Occasionally there will be loud music being blared in a nearby pub as locals dance and drink into the morning.

Roughly around 5:30 am the call of prayer begins to sound across the town. The mosque, closest to my home, is usually the second or third one to begin its long call for devote Muslims to pray. I, on the other hand, roll over and continue my slumber.

A half hour later, the birds begin to sing their morning greetings. Back and forth the chirps of various birds begin. The sing-song effect is soothing and the day still seems fresh and new. However by 6:30 these terrible sounding birds join the chorus. We have affectionately named them “pterodactly” birds because of their obnoxious scream that they produce.




Unfortunately, their loud sound frightens the turkey that stays in my compound. So in his defense, he puffs up his feathers and gobbles a reply. Back and forth the teradactile birds and the turkey go, until one stops.


By this time, the rest of town has awoken and begins their long commute on foot to their place of work. My road happens to be a cut-through for some people. The chatter of morning commuters begins as they pass-by my home. Not to be outdone, the trucks roll by, the mattatus honk, and the motorcycles reve their engines as they transport willing passengers along the rode.

As 7:15 comes, Jesse, the gardener, begins his morning scrub of the front patio. He uses the rain bucket next to my window to get water. Once the bucket of water is full, he begins his morning scrub. Up and down, down and up, the scraping sound of mop on stone occurs.




The next door baby cries, a mother takes him and feeds him. His older brother says goodbye as he bounds out the gate on his way to school.

7:25 our rooster crows on the east wall of my room, right underneath the window. Thirty seconds later, he rounds the corner of the building and crows under the northern window of my bedroom. His alarm frightens turkey, and so he puffs up his feathers and gobbles a reply.



By 8:00 am the upstairs neighbor is out front, greeting her employees and talking chicken (she happens to own a large chicken farm). By this point, I am fully awake. Boiling water for coffee, grabbing breakfast and getting ready for my long commute to the living room. Here, I start my day of work.