Written Friday, July 31 – Sunday, August 2
I now have one fewer body part than I did when I arrived. Unfortunately, I lost a finger holding a stick of sugar cane while someone chopped it with a machete.
Kidding. (But the above is something I fear.)
Actually, the missing body part is my appendix. My body decided that while I was half way across the world was an appropriate time to come down with appendicitis. After two days and nights spent in a nearby clinic, I am back home (my Kampala home) with a scar and a story.
The symptoms were stomach pain and a fever. Convinced that I had a parasite (delightful, I know), I popped into the clinic around 10:30 am Tuesday to get checked out. Thought it would take ten minutes and I would go to work afterwards. Imagine my surprise when nine hours later, I was not only still there (I did get a lunch break) but informed I’d be staying the night to be monitored. The doctor suspected appendicitis, but was very hesitant to send me into unnecessary surgery. It felt like an episode of House; I’d never been the subject of such a thorough medical investigation. Around 10:00 pm he made the call and I was transferred by ambulance to another clinic for my first real operation. It seemed pretty surreal at the time. An appendectomy in Uganda. …And I intended to pop in for 10 minutes!
Random note about the ambulance: I had to laugh at the fact that literally the day before this, as Jo and I watched an ambulance attempt to “rush” through the congested streets of Kampala, I commented that I would hate to need an ambulance in Kampala. And the next day… I find myself in an ambulance in Kampala. Granted, this was not an extreme emergency, there were no sirens, and the streets we took were not busy at that time. But still…
Jo has been my personal angel during the whole thing. She has been my mother, my maid, my counselor, and my physical therapist and has barely left my side from the time I entered the clinic until now. She has been the liaison with my parents and with the other AIESECers and interns. The poor girl didn’t sleep the night of surgery and dealt with all my complaints. A gold star (or two) for Jo!!
All week (pre surgery) I’d been insisting on attending the last week of work and had to constantly be convinced by Mommy Jo not to. Unfortunately I missed a full week with the NGO and three out of four days teaching at my school. It was, however, really important to me not to miss the finale of our project called “Come and Ask Day.” This was a chance for the kids from each of our schools to showcase what they learned over two months. I had set the final week aside to plan and practice with my kids but I unfortunately had to relinquish most control to my substitute, Isaac.
Despite the speculation, I did make it to the ceremony. I was released from the clinic Friday morning and was at the school that afternoon. It was so nice seeing my kids again. I showed up a bit late and when I walked in I spotted my group and caught the relieved expressions on their faces. Made me really happy. I saw one kid (my favorite… don’t tell anyone) sort of throw his hands in the air and thank God. He was set to make a speech during the ceremony and told me afterwards that he could not have possibly made it without me there. Aaww!!
Now that the project is over, I can say that it was so wonderful working with these kids for two months. The group wittled down to just about ten kids by the end. But I feel like I really got to know them. They were all really appreciative of the class and let me know ho much they enjoyed it. They all expressed their sadness that I would be leaving them to go back the US so soon. Despite all the challenges we faced, this made the project very worthwhile. And they tried to get me to stay home…
The principal deserves a word, too. He has been just spectacular during my entire stay. Making sure I don’t miss any of Uganda’s greatest attractions, making me feel comfortable in his school, inviting me to lunch with his family, and being very cooperative when I asked the school to host Come and Ask Day. Not to mention that after my surgery, he was the very first to visit me with bananas and apple juice. He also arranged to have me picked up in a car so I could to come to the ceremony (since taxis and bodas are out of the question at the moment).
I don’t remember if I had mentioned my proposed trip to Nairobi or not. Anyway, our proposal turned to reality early this week when Jo and I purchased round trip tickets and our visas. And then crumbled (for me at least) when I cancelled my trip Friday. I debated but realized that I had a lot of reasons not to go. I’m now certain I made the right choice. Just gives me another reason to return to Africa. After a debate of her own, Jo is still going. We have accumulated lots of contacts there during the planning process, so she should be set with people to stay with and show her around.
While Jo is away, I will have plenty of support. Everyone has been super in terms of visiting me in the clinic and now at home. The AIESECers and interns. My Uganda family. The guys from work. The principal. Makes the healing process much easier.
Before ending, I’d like to give a shout out to my lucky stars. My illness was smacked right in between a trip to rural Kumi and a plane ride to Nairobi (flying and inflamed appendices don’t’ mix). If it had to happen it Uganda, this was the time.
So, I’ve left a little piece of me in Uganda. Some leave their hearts; I’ve left my appendix. And Uganda’s left its mark on me on the form of a scar. A permanent souvenir.
--------
Home in exactly one week! (sad, exciting, scary…)
Much love,
Meghan
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A little work, a little play
Written July 26, 2009
In the past two weeks, I have visited Queen Elizabeth National Park (the play) to the west and a district called Kumi to the east (the work).
Queen Elizabeth was a fun outing with some of the interns. A budget safari with budget accommodations. Not that I’m complaining in the least. Our safari vehicle was no different than the taxis that we take through town. Since taxi windows are not designed for animal viewing, all 11 of us hopped on the top of the taxi for a panoramic view. The views were spectacular. The feeling of sitting on metal bars on top of a bumpy taxi was not. In fact, after two days’ worth of game drives, we all felt quite bruised in the backside. But the views were worth it. Seriously, I think our method beat sitting inside a typical jeep. And I must add that the discomfort of the drive was completely cancelled out by the extreme comfort of a HOT shower. Yes, the hostel we stayed in had a water heater! One of the best feelings in the world. I mean it.
The ride took about 8 hours each way (despite the 4 hour estimate we were given). Since we’ve travelled most weekends, such long taxi/ bus rides have really become a way of life. My favorite part is what you might call the “rest stops.” I feel that only a video camera could do the situation justice, but basically, you get to a certain point and uniformed men and women literally run/ sprint to the taxi carrying various food items. From all directions, sticks with meat, chicken, and liver get thrust in the windows and shoved in your face as the vendors try to get you to buy. Fried bananas, water bottles, etc. Chaos. The nourishment is sometimes quite welcome, though. I really wish I could video it because it because it is the image rather than the situation itself that is priceless.
July 22 through July 26 was spent in Kumi District in eastern Uganda. Jo and I went to do some field work with our NGO. This region is currently experiencing widespread drought and famine. After spending weeks mobilizing food and clothing donations from a giant market in Kampala, we travelled to Kumi to distribute the donations and also survey the situation there. Surprisingly, despite the drought, it rained every day we were there. We were praised for bringing the rains with us. It’s a good thing my Ugandan name means “fortune.” Hopefully the rains will stay.
It was really interesting and heart-wrenching to observe life and living conditions in this part of the country. Very different from Kampala. And of course very different from home, too. Although we stayed with a family in a relatively large mud house with a tin roof, mud huts with grass ceilings and a diameter of about 8 or 9 feet are the norm.
We went around to various communities and homes to talk to people there. Some of the stories are really touching. We spoke to a 53 or 63-year old woman (her ID and her statement didn’t line up) who is infected with HIV and has 3 infected children. We saw a woman of about 100 years who struggled to sit up outside her hut, but managed to muster out in her language some of her needs. A mosquito net, a mattress, etc. It is clear that these people are in fact facing a bad condition. Driving through the area, you can see the dried up crops. All people we interviewed said similar things about having relied on farming their gardens in the past, but being stuck now with no source of income.
We distributed lots of our donations in a struggling village called Oseera. Things were, to put it simply, hectic. Quite frustrating and overwhelming at times. It was clear that these people are indeed in strong need. Not that what we donated made much of a drop in the ocean, but it is amazing to see how eager people are to get a cupful each of flour and beans. When we gave out the clothes, people went crazy. Lots of pushing and grabbing. I’m now that much more aware that successful charity work of this type takes careful, careful planning.
Perhaps the most interesting part of the visit was sitting in a circle with some Oseera elders drinking from a communal pot of local brew. A very African tradition in which I’m glad I got to take part. Yes, I did sip from the pot. If you can’t picture it, imagine a big stationary pot of warm foamy beer with 5 or 10 windy, meter-long straws hanging out and getting passed along. Pretty good, I may add. This was a good opportunity to sit and chat with village members about all sorts of issues. Of course, the first thing I wanted to talk about was the details of this brew-drinking tradition. It is taken every day by the elders (about 40 and above). I was told that in light of the famine, elders often take brew as their lunch to save food for their kids. Shocking… But it remains an issue of interest to me whether the money spent on brew could be put toward actual food. Or if the millet used in the brew could be used to make bread. We talked of hunger (of course), marriage and polygamy (a conversation I somehow get wrapped up in very often), parent/ child relationships, and more. A pretty relaxed environment in which to chat.
We asked them what tends to be discussed around the pot. They answered that they discuss a variety of community issues. I’d love to sit in on one of those meetings.
It is worth noting that as we drove away from this “get-together” in our pickup, the guys (all men) I was with let me know that I had gone against African tradition by sitting in a chair. Apparently, women are meant to sit on the ground, especially if a man does not have a seat. Sure enough, I thought back and realized As in hindsight that I was in fact the only female with a chair. Honestly, if I had known before, I’m not sure what I would have done. I feel like more of a feminist here than I have been before. The thing, though, is that when it comes to views on women, everything is so intimately tied to culture, tradition, and history, so it’s not such a straightforward issue. Which is why I find this an interesting, if also frustrating, discussion.
The ride home to Kampala was an adventure as always. The 6-hour ride was bumpy as usual. This time, we had the very last row and I was seriously concerned that my head was going to hit the ceiling as we bounced down the road. I was thinking, though, if it was bad for me, it must have been worse for the poor chicken under my seat. Yes, there was lots of poultry and other animals on this journey. One of the chickens belonged to our group. I have to laugh at how quickly such foreign practices come to seem so normal.
Off topic, but before signing off, I want to mention discuss how happy I am that I came abroad with AIESEC of all organizations. It allows you to meet and connect with people from all over the world which I find so perfect. I now have friends from: England, the Netherlands, Japan, Egypt, Sweden, Canada, France, Rwanda, and more. And of course, lots of friends from Uganda. Despite the [many] associated challenges, the fact that this is a student organization makes it really easy to connect to people. As I sat at dinner with about 10 people the other night and realized that no two people were from the same country, I had a corny song we sang in an elementary school (6th grade I believe) concert running through my head. [Picnic of the World: “…All sitting at the same big picnic with the same big blanket eating hamburgers and sandwiches…”] (Anyone remember it?!)
On that uplifting and corny note I bid farewell. 7 ½ weeks down and 2 to go! See you soon.
Meghan
In the past two weeks, I have visited Queen Elizabeth National Park (the play) to the west and a district called Kumi to the east (the work).
Queen Elizabeth was a fun outing with some of the interns. A budget safari with budget accommodations. Not that I’m complaining in the least. Our safari vehicle was no different than the taxis that we take through town. Since taxi windows are not designed for animal viewing, all 11 of us hopped on the top of the taxi for a panoramic view. The views were spectacular. The feeling of sitting on metal bars on top of a bumpy taxi was not. In fact, after two days’ worth of game drives, we all felt quite bruised in the backside. But the views were worth it. Seriously, I think our method beat sitting inside a typical jeep. And I must add that the discomfort of the drive was completely cancelled out by the extreme comfort of a HOT shower. Yes, the hostel we stayed in had a water heater! One of the best feelings in the world. I mean it.
The ride took about 8 hours each way (despite the 4 hour estimate we were given). Since we’ve travelled most weekends, such long taxi/ bus rides have really become a way of life. My favorite part is what you might call the “rest stops.” I feel that only a video camera could do the situation justice, but basically, you get to a certain point and uniformed men and women literally run/ sprint to the taxi carrying various food items. From all directions, sticks with meat, chicken, and liver get thrust in the windows and shoved in your face as the vendors try to get you to buy. Fried bananas, water bottles, etc. Chaos. The nourishment is sometimes quite welcome, though. I really wish I could video it because it because it is the image rather than the situation itself that is priceless.
July 22 through July 26 was spent in Kumi District in eastern Uganda. Jo and I went to do some field work with our NGO. This region is currently experiencing widespread drought and famine. After spending weeks mobilizing food and clothing donations from a giant market in Kampala, we travelled to Kumi to distribute the donations and also survey the situation there. Surprisingly, despite the drought, it rained every day we were there. We were praised for bringing the rains with us. It’s a good thing my Ugandan name means “fortune.” Hopefully the rains will stay.
It was really interesting and heart-wrenching to observe life and living conditions in this part of the country. Very different from Kampala. And of course very different from home, too. Although we stayed with a family in a relatively large mud house with a tin roof, mud huts with grass ceilings and a diameter of about 8 or 9 feet are the norm.
We went around to various communities and homes to talk to people there. Some of the stories are really touching. We spoke to a 53 or 63-year old woman (her ID and her statement didn’t line up) who is infected with HIV and has 3 infected children. We saw a woman of about 100 years who struggled to sit up outside her hut, but managed to muster out in her language some of her needs. A mosquito net, a mattress, etc. It is clear that these people are in fact facing a bad condition. Driving through the area, you can see the dried up crops. All people we interviewed said similar things about having relied on farming their gardens in the past, but being stuck now with no source of income.
We distributed lots of our donations in a struggling village called Oseera. Things were, to put it simply, hectic. Quite frustrating and overwhelming at times. It was clear that these people are indeed in strong need. Not that what we donated made much of a drop in the ocean, but it is amazing to see how eager people are to get a cupful each of flour and beans. When we gave out the clothes, people went crazy. Lots of pushing and grabbing. I’m now that much more aware that successful charity work of this type takes careful, careful planning.
Perhaps the most interesting part of the visit was sitting in a circle with some Oseera elders drinking from a communal pot of local brew. A very African tradition in which I’m glad I got to take part. Yes, I did sip from the pot. If you can’t picture it, imagine a big stationary pot of warm foamy beer with 5 or 10 windy, meter-long straws hanging out and getting passed along. Pretty good, I may add. This was a good opportunity to sit and chat with village members about all sorts of issues. Of course, the first thing I wanted to talk about was the details of this brew-drinking tradition. It is taken every day by the elders (about 40 and above). I was told that in light of the famine, elders often take brew as their lunch to save food for their kids. Shocking… But it remains an issue of interest to me whether the money spent on brew could be put toward actual food. Or if the millet used in the brew could be used to make bread. We talked of hunger (of course), marriage and polygamy (a conversation I somehow get wrapped up in very often), parent/ child relationships, and more. A pretty relaxed environment in which to chat.
We asked them what tends to be discussed around the pot. They answered that they discuss a variety of community issues. I’d love to sit in on one of those meetings.
It is worth noting that as we drove away from this “get-together” in our pickup, the guys (all men) I was with let me know that I had gone against African tradition by sitting in a chair. Apparently, women are meant to sit on the ground, especially if a man does not have a seat. Sure enough, I thought back and realized As in hindsight that I was in fact the only female with a chair. Honestly, if I had known before, I’m not sure what I would have done. I feel like more of a feminist here than I have been before. The thing, though, is that when it comes to views on women, everything is so intimately tied to culture, tradition, and history, so it’s not such a straightforward issue. Which is why I find this an interesting, if also frustrating, discussion.
The ride home to Kampala was an adventure as always. The 6-hour ride was bumpy as usual. This time, we had the very last row and I was seriously concerned that my head was going to hit the ceiling as we bounced down the road. I was thinking, though, if it was bad for me, it must have been worse for the poor chicken under my seat. Yes, there was lots of poultry and other animals on this journey. One of the chickens belonged to our group. I have to laugh at how quickly such foreign practices come to seem so normal.
Off topic, but before signing off, I want to mention discuss how happy I am that I came abroad with AIESEC of all organizations. It allows you to meet and connect with people from all over the world which I find so perfect. I now have friends from: England, the Netherlands, Japan, Egypt, Sweden, Canada, France, Rwanda, and more. And of course, lots of friends from Uganda. Despite the [many] associated challenges, the fact that this is a student organization makes it really easy to connect to people. As I sat at dinner with about 10 people the other night and realized that no two people were from the same country, I had a corny song we sang in an elementary school (6th grade I believe) concert running through my head. [Picnic of the World: “…All sitting at the same big picnic with the same big blanket eating hamburgers and sandwiches…”] (Anyone remember it?!)
On that uplifting and corny note I bid farewell. 7 ½ weeks down and 2 to go! See you soon.
Meghan
Thursday, July 16, 2009
finally
Written July 6 - 11
Things are going quite swimmingly now. I have become accustomed to 10:00 dinner, taxi rides, bargaining with boda boda drivers, and my permanently dirty feet. I am still not used to cold showers and I really miss iced coffee.
I have not written in a long time and have lots to say (note the time span above). For the skimmers out there, enjoy the subtitles.
KAMPALA MEETS UNITED STATES
Uganda turned into the Unites States for a bit on July 4. Happy Independence Day everyone. I went to an event at the American Recreation Center. There was a barbecue and fireworks. With the exception of the tribal dances we watched as entertainment, I felt like I could have been at home celebrating the 4th. Hotdogs and hamburgers, a kid with a football (no, not a soccer ball), and mothers spraying bug spray on their kids. Very American. Jo came along. Imagine… they let her in even though we were celebrating our independence from her own country…
Actually the United States’ presence is felt almost every day thanks to the African roots of our president. I still find it hysterical to see… “Obama Supermarket,” the “Obama Hair Salon,” and my personal favorite… the “Barack Obama Street Ghetto.” (the first are actual names; the last is graffiti). I’ve bough chapati from “Obama Smart Takeaway” and have had a soda opened with an Obama bottle opener. Then there are the Obama bracelets, belt buckles, and scarves. I may try to determine the most ridiculous item and then take it home as a souvenir.
TRIP TO JINJA
To finish off the July 4 weekend, I went with Jo and Isaac to Jinja in the East. Highlights were seeing the source of the Nile, visiting the absolutely beautiful Bujagali Falls, and experiencing a 3-person boda ride to get from one to the other (certainly illegal). The lowlight was the 2-hour taxi ride home where about half of my behind and three quarters of my back had a place to rest. Did I mention the resting part was on a metal bar and the ride was bumpy… Something that made me laugh out loud was that just when you thought this little taxi was filled to capacity (actually, officially past capacity), the conductor opens the door and lets a mother, her baby, and her toddler on. I think I exclaimed, “You have to be kidding me,” pretty loudly. When it comes to public transportation, though, anything goes. (Did I mention how many people we almost ran over as we drove down the shoulder of the road to bypass traffic?)
WORK AT VISION FOR SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT
On to work… I am so grateful for the NGO I ended up in. It is seriously perfect for me. We have done very varied work. No day is exactly like any of the others. As I mentioned earlier, they describe themselves as a family and I have been welcomed with very, very open arms. Jo has now been welcomed too. She joined me working there recently. These people are not only an inspiration due to their vision, but also some of the most hysterical, charismatic, fun people I have ever met. A superb combination.
Selected things I have done so far:
SCHOOLS
I’ve visited many schools with the team to discuss HIV/ AIDS and life skills. The character of the schools vary. Some large some small. Some primary some secondary. Some groups clearly more knowledgeable than others. The largest group I’ve encountered so far I estimated to have about 175 kids. A good challenge.
Speaking about HIV and AIDS in primary and secondary schools is enlightening. Judging by the questions we get, there are so many misconceptions. Some deal with the US and the western world. For example: “Where was AIDS manufactured? Is it true it was manufactured in Florida, America?”
The hardest thing about the schools is the language barrier. Although all the kids we work with know English for the most part, many of them, especially the younger ones, either prefer Luganda or have a really hard time understanding different accents. So a lot of the time, I need to have a translator. When the language keeps changing, sometimes it is hard to keep up with the flow of the class.
CONDOM OUTREACH
In other words, condom demonstrations for large groups of boda boda drivers on the streets of Bwaise. I was surprised to see how little these guys knew about condoms. Again, I was unfortunately more of an observer since the conversations tend to occur in Luganda. But body language and tones of voice told me that they were eager to learn.
HOME VISITS
I have met various people with various medical and personal conditions. There are many but I will illuminate two of the stories. One is a 12 year old boy named Willy who was not only born with an intestinal condition that resulted in him having a hole on his side instead of the usual place, but also has Down’s Syndrome. He is the sweetest kid you’ve ever seen. It’s frustrating discussing the best ways to help him. His issues are simultaneously medical and social. He is not in school now. According to the story I’ve been told, when he was in school, the kids made fun of him and he had to leave. We visited the hospital the other day and the doctor said that a) despite what his caretaker had thought, there is no procedure that can help him right now and b) he strongly advises schooling. But he will have to attend nursery school with 3 and 4 year olds. In my non-expert opinion, neither nursery school nor school with other normally developing 12 year olds will be ideal for him in this complicated situation. But the type of support he really needs in not available to him. When you can’t have everything, which part do you sacrifice?
Another story that touched me is that of a woman and her adorable 9 and 10 year old boys. All are HIV positive. But all were so upbeat and happy. The boys, I was told, know of their condition, but don’t necessarily yet know the seriousness of it. One moment that stuck with me was when I got a chance to look at one of the boys’ school notebooks. I had been told he was very bright. As I looked through and saw the neat handwriting and the perfect grades on homework assignments, I thought, here’s a kid that has so much potential—has everything he needs to go far in life… plus one thing that will definitely hold him back. That suddenly became a very overwhelming reality.
FINDING MY CALLING AS A RADIO PERSONALITY
Okay, this is probably not my calling, but Jo and I did get to speak on the radio recently. In a couple of weeks, Jo and I are traveling with Vision to a northern district called Kumi. Kumi is a very impoverished area—closer to what you might call the “stereotypical Africa.” Currently, there is a famine occurring there and lots of people are dying of hunger. As Vision has done in the past, we are going to travel there with donations. We used this radio show to get publicity and encourage people to give what they can. When we got there—Surprise! Jo and I are the ones presenting. So we discussed our cause and got interviewed on air. Finally, I can check appearing on radio off my life to-do list.
MY BIRTHDAY
I have officially turned 21 in Kampala! I had a fun couple of nights celebrating. I went out with some of the AIESECers and celebrated at midnight. Appropriately, we entered to a casino where I lost exactly 21,000 schillings to blackjack (you know, the game where you count up to 21…). So appropriate. The following night, on my “actual” birthday, the guys from Vision threw me the nicest birthday party. Complete with some traditional Ugandan flair. Lots of speeches and stand-up comedy (Did I mention they are hysterical?). A big local feast, cake, dancing, presents that were presented in a procession. And the highlight of the night: the presentation of my Ugandan name, Mukisa (means “fortune”). Definitely made for a memorable birthday.
That’s all for now.
Signed,
Mukisa Meghan S. (as it appears on my Vision ID card)
Things are going quite swimmingly now. I have become accustomed to 10:00 dinner, taxi rides, bargaining with boda boda drivers, and my permanently dirty feet. I am still not used to cold showers and I really miss iced coffee.
I have not written in a long time and have lots to say (note the time span above). For the skimmers out there, enjoy the subtitles.
KAMPALA MEETS UNITED STATES
Uganda turned into the Unites States for a bit on July 4. Happy Independence Day everyone. I went to an event at the American Recreation Center. There was a barbecue and fireworks. With the exception of the tribal dances we watched as entertainment, I felt like I could have been at home celebrating the 4th. Hotdogs and hamburgers, a kid with a football (no, not a soccer ball), and mothers spraying bug spray on their kids. Very American. Jo came along. Imagine… they let her in even though we were celebrating our independence from her own country…
Actually the United States’ presence is felt almost every day thanks to the African roots of our president. I still find it hysterical to see… “Obama Supermarket,” the “Obama Hair Salon,” and my personal favorite… the “Barack Obama Street Ghetto.” (the first are actual names; the last is graffiti). I’ve bough chapati from “Obama Smart Takeaway” and have had a soda opened with an Obama bottle opener. Then there are the Obama bracelets, belt buckles, and scarves. I may try to determine the most ridiculous item and then take it home as a souvenir.
TRIP TO JINJA
To finish off the July 4 weekend, I went with Jo and Isaac to Jinja in the East. Highlights were seeing the source of the Nile, visiting the absolutely beautiful Bujagali Falls, and experiencing a 3-person boda ride to get from one to the other (certainly illegal). The lowlight was the 2-hour taxi ride home where about half of my behind and three quarters of my back had a place to rest. Did I mention the resting part was on a metal bar and the ride was bumpy… Something that made me laugh out loud was that just when you thought this little taxi was filled to capacity (actually, officially past capacity), the conductor opens the door and lets a mother, her baby, and her toddler on. I think I exclaimed, “You have to be kidding me,” pretty loudly. When it comes to public transportation, though, anything goes. (Did I mention how many people we almost ran over as we drove down the shoulder of the road to bypass traffic?)
WORK AT VISION FOR SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT
On to work… I am so grateful for the NGO I ended up in. It is seriously perfect for me. We have done very varied work. No day is exactly like any of the others. As I mentioned earlier, they describe themselves as a family and I have been welcomed with very, very open arms. Jo has now been welcomed too. She joined me working there recently. These people are not only an inspiration due to their vision, but also some of the most hysterical, charismatic, fun people I have ever met. A superb combination.
Selected things I have done so far:
SCHOOLS
I’ve visited many schools with the team to discuss HIV/ AIDS and life skills. The character of the schools vary. Some large some small. Some primary some secondary. Some groups clearly more knowledgeable than others. The largest group I’ve encountered so far I estimated to have about 175 kids. A good challenge.
Speaking about HIV and AIDS in primary and secondary schools is enlightening. Judging by the questions we get, there are so many misconceptions. Some deal with the US and the western world. For example: “Where was AIDS manufactured? Is it true it was manufactured in Florida, America?”
The hardest thing about the schools is the language barrier. Although all the kids we work with know English for the most part, many of them, especially the younger ones, either prefer Luganda or have a really hard time understanding different accents. So a lot of the time, I need to have a translator. When the language keeps changing, sometimes it is hard to keep up with the flow of the class.
CONDOM OUTREACH
In other words, condom demonstrations for large groups of boda boda drivers on the streets of Bwaise. I was surprised to see how little these guys knew about condoms. Again, I was unfortunately more of an observer since the conversations tend to occur in Luganda. But body language and tones of voice told me that they were eager to learn.
HOME VISITS
I have met various people with various medical and personal conditions. There are many but I will illuminate two of the stories. One is a 12 year old boy named Willy who was not only born with an intestinal condition that resulted in him having a hole on his side instead of the usual place, but also has Down’s Syndrome. He is the sweetest kid you’ve ever seen. It’s frustrating discussing the best ways to help him. His issues are simultaneously medical and social. He is not in school now. According to the story I’ve been told, when he was in school, the kids made fun of him and he had to leave. We visited the hospital the other day and the doctor said that a) despite what his caretaker had thought, there is no procedure that can help him right now and b) he strongly advises schooling. But he will have to attend nursery school with 3 and 4 year olds. In my non-expert opinion, neither nursery school nor school with other normally developing 12 year olds will be ideal for him in this complicated situation. But the type of support he really needs in not available to him. When you can’t have everything, which part do you sacrifice?
Another story that touched me is that of a woman and her adorable 9 and 10 year old boys. All are HIV positive. But all were so upbeat and happy. The boys, I was told, know of their condition, but don’t necessarily yet know the seriousness of it. One moment that stuck with me was when I got a chance to look at one of the boys’ school notebooks. I had been told he was very bright. As I looked through and saw the neat handwriting and the perfect grades on homework assignments, I thought, here’s a kid that has so much potential—has everything he needs to go far in life… plus one thing that will definitely hold him back. That suddenly became a very overwhelming reality.
FINDING MY CALLING AS A RADIO PERSONALITY
Okay, this is probably not my calling, but Jo and I did get to speak on the radio recently. In a couple of weeks, Jo and I are traveling with Vision to a northern district called Kumi. Kumi is a very impoverished area—closer to what you might call the “stereotypical Africa.” Currently, there is a famine occurring there and lots of people are dying of hunger. As Vision has done in the past, we are going to travel there with donations. We used this radio show to get publicity and encourage people to give what they can. When we got there—Surprise! Jo and I are the ones presenting. So we discussed our cause and got interviewed on air. Finally, I can check appearing on radio off my life to-do list.
MY BIRTHDAY
I have officially turned 21 in Kampala! I had a fun couple of nights celebrating. I went out with some of the AIESECers and celebrated at midnight. Appropriately, we entered to a casino where I lost exactly 21,000 schillings to blackjack (you know, the game where you count up to 21…). So appropriate. The following night, on my “actual” birthday, the guys from Vision threw me the nicest birthday party. Complete with some traditional Ugandan flair. Lots of speeches and stand-up comedy (Did I mention they are hysterical?). A big local feast, cake, dancing, presents that were presented in a procession. And the highlight of the night: the presentation of my Ugandan name, Mukisa (means “fortune”). Definitely made for a memorable birthday.
That’s all for now.
Signed,
Mukisa Meghan S. (as it appears on my Vision ID card)
Saturday, June 27, 2009
work
Written June 23-June 26, 2009
First of all, RIP Michael Jackson. My day began with the report on the news and continued with the sounds of Thriller coming out of shop windows and a surprising amount of personal sympathy. Random shopkeeper and boda boda drivers have shouted their sympathy. I received a text message from the principal of Ahmaddhiya today starting with something more official and ending with his “heartfelt sympathy” for “the demise of the greatest star.” People assume that I am more affected by his death because he is from my country. Actually, it seems to me that people are bigger fans here than at home.
With that out of the way, I want to report on some of the experiences I’ve had in the schools so far. I have been getting settled in Ahmaddhiya Secondary School, and have (finally!) stared working with an NGO that I am very happy with.
At Ahhmadhiya, I have learned thus far that when teaching, the only thing to expect is for things not to go as expected. The first four lessons were on: human development, sexuality, stereotypes, and gender roles.
Human development went more or less according to plan. What shocked me was that they knew more about the reproductive system than I expected them to, which was a good thing.
Sexuality was a huge surprise. The session veered away from the curriculum a bit. We tried an activity that involved agreeing or disagreeing with a series of statements about. We only got through statement #2 before we were having a hardcore debate that touched on prostitution, the meaning of provocative clothing, and husbands mistreating their wives, among other things. Boy, did people have opinions. There was standing and some shouting involved. My dilemma was in defining my role in the discussion. Should I be strictly a facilitator? Should I share my personal opinions? Should I share my opinions but present it as a fact, since I know they will listen?
Stereotypes took me by surprise, too. I seriously thought that this would be a boring review for them. So I was shocked when no one could define stereotype. The definitions I got were just blatantly wrong. One girl suggested it was the life course from birth to death. I had trouble understanding one boy’s answer until I realized he was defining a stereo (as in the thing that plays music). So I abandoned the activities I was going to do and spent the class defining words like stereotype, discrimination, prejudice and stigma. Maybe it’s because civil rights, slavery, etc. is so embedded in US culture that we learn from a very young age the meanings of these things. Anyone else remember the “blue eye/ brown eye” activity in kindergarten? A product of different educational systems.
In general, I have found it challenging to teach a group of kids from a different culture than me. There are certain times when I realize my examples just won’t really work. For example, when talking about discrimination and prejudice, it is natural for me to want to talk about the civil right movement and slavery. But I don’t want to be constantly talking about the US. I want to relate the lessons to the kids’ environment. I was happy that when I asked for examples of discrimination, someone brought up Idi Amin’s treatment of Indians. After Amin, I did resort to talking about slavery and such. Actually I hesitated for a moment, thinking that racism against blacks would be offensive to a group of black kids. Then I decided that if anything, it would spark their interest.
I noticed that when talking about gender roles, some kids think in a different way that I do. During the agree/ disagree exercise described above, one girl and one boy agreed that men should make all the important decisions in a relationship. And while I initially thought it would be easy to refute this idea, hearing justifications based on religion and tradition complicates things. And when I talk about family relationships, for example, I am not sure I know exactly what they are thinking.
Finally, I want to talk about my start at the NGO. It is called Vision for Sustainable Development. It is a completely volunteer organization. They do a variety of work for a community called Bwaise. All of the volunteers (expect, now, for me) grew up here. One of their main activities is going to primary and secondary schools to teach about life skills and HIV/ AIDS. The past few days, we’ve scooped up our materials and marched like a brigade school to school. My first day took me by surprise because although I assumed I would start off observing since I hadn’t yet learned the ropes, I actually played as big a role as anyone. I was slated to be one of two facilitators. I could talk about just about anything I wanted but I hadn’t, of course, prepared anything. They suggested I talk about HIV/ AIDS. I was worried because although I have knowledge on the topic, I had not been prepared to give a lesson on it. I had some time during the first presentation to jot down some facts and attempt to create a coherent lesson. In the end, I actually thought it went pretty well. I proceeded to repeat the lesson at another school that day, and then variations on the lesson in four more schools over the last two days. The most interesting part is fielding questions at the end. Some of their questions really take you by surprise. There is a lot of AIDS confusion out there, it’s true. The interested reader can ask me for a list of the questions.
I am really impressed by the vision of Vision. Talking to them is really inspirational. As volunteers, everything they do is done out of the goodness of their hearts and the LOVE of the community they grew up in. The “office” is a tiny room located right within the community. If you ask them, they’ll tell you that it is important to the program to remain in the community, even if it means having a small headquarters. They work as a “family” and I have been officially welcomed as a family member. The team mentality is what I really love.
Today, we spent half of the day in a nearby clinic where we took nine girls with suspected STDs and possible HIV to get counseled/ treated/ tested. These girls were from a school we worked in yesterday. Some of them had anonymously asked questions that suggested there might be a problem. The Vision guys told them to speak to them after the session. They did, and today, action was taken. Just like that. I thought that was really nice. Shows that a day’s work actually has a positive impact.
I like showing off my Uganda knowledge with my new “family.” This includes local food, popular music, and my increasing store of Uganda words. I have found yet another group of people with whom to practice my Luganda skills. Will be fluent in know time (okay, maybe just “decent”). Today I tried a food called a kicommando (pronounced chi-commando) for lunch. It is a mix of cut-up chipati (a flat bready thing) and beans. Everyone kind of laughed when I agreed to eat one, and I wasn’t exactly sure why. Isaac later labeled it a “ghetto food--” something you eat if you want to fill up quickly and inexpensively. So I guess that was the funny part.
Perhaps one day I will tell them that I go by “Meghan” and not “Smith.” I may have mentioned previously that when I arrived here my family called me a combination of “Meghan,” “Lee,” and “Smith” before I set it straight. It is because they have a system of naming that is different than mine. I did feel compelled to tell the family because it sounded so funny to me at that time. But by the time I started work, Smith had actually started to sound fairly natural, so I let it go. And now I've embraced it as my name. You may call me Smith when I get home.
That’s all for my update.
Keep it real,
Meg
First of all, RIP Michael Jackson. My day began with the report on the news and continued with the sounds of Thriller coming out of shop windows and a surprising amount of personal sympathy. Random shopkeeper and boda boda drivers have shouted their sympathy. I received a text message from the principal of Ahmaddhiya today starting with something more official and ending with his “heartfelt sympathy” for “the demise of the greatest star.” People assume that I am more affected by his death because he is from my country. Actually, it seems to me that people are bigger fans here than at home.
With that out of the way, I want to report on some of the experiences I’ve had in the schools so far. I have been getting settled in Ahmaddhiya Secondary School, and have (finally!) stared working with an NGO that I am very happy with.
At Ahhmadhiya, I have learned thus far that when teaching, the only thing to expect is for things not to go as expected. The first four lessons were on: human development, sexuality, stereotypes, and gender roles.
Human development went more or less according to plan. What shocked me was that they knew more about the reproductive system than I expected them to, which was a good thing.
Sexuality was a huge surprise. The session veered away from the curriculum a bit. We tried an activity that involved agreeing or disagreeing with a series of statements about. We only got through statement #2 before we were having a hardcore debate that touched on prostitution, the meaning of provocative clothing, and husbands mistreating their wives, among other things. Boy, did people have opinions. There was standing and some shouting involved. My dilemma was in defining my role in the discussion. Should I be strictly a facilitator? Should I share my personal opinions? Should I share my opinions but present it as a fact, since I know they will listen?
Stereotypes took me by surprise, too. I seriously thought that this would be a boring review for them. So I was shocked when no one could define stereotype. The definitions I got were just blatantly wrong. One girl suggested it was the life course from birth to death. I had trouble understanding one boy’s answer until I realized he was defining a stereo (as in the thing that plays music). So I abandoned the activities I was going to do and spent the class defining words like stereotype, discrimination, prejudice and stigma. Maybe it’s because civil rights, slavery, etc. is so embedded in US culture that we learn from a very young age the meanings of these things. Anyone else remember the “blue eye/ brown eye” activity in kindergarten? A product of different educational systems.
In general, I have found it challenging to teach a group of kids from a different culture than me. There are certain times when I realize my examples just won’t really work. For example, when talking about discrimination and prejudice, it is natural for me to want to talk about the civil right movement and slavery. But I don’t want to be constantly talking about the US. I want to relate the lessons to the kids’ environment. I was happy that when I asked for examples of discrimination, someone brought up Idi Amin’s treatment of Indians. After Amin, I did resort to talking about slavery and such. Actually I hesitated for a moment, thinking that racism against blacks would be offensive to a group of black kids. Then I decided that if anything, it would spark their interest.
I noticed that when talking about gender roles, some kids think in a different way that I do. During the agree/ disagree exercise described above, one girl and one boy agreed that men should make all the important decisions in a relationship. And while I initially thought it would be easy to refute this idea, hearing justifications based on religion and tradition complicates things. And when I talk about family relationships, for example, I am not sure I know exactly what they are thinking.
Finally, I want to talk about my start at the NGO. It is called Vision for Sustainable Development. It is a completely volunteer organization. They do a variety of work for a community called Bwaise. All of the volunteers (expect, now, for me) grew up here. One of their main activities is going to primary and secondary schools to teach about life skills and HIV/ AIDS. The past few days, we’ve scooped up our materials and marched like a brigade school to school. My first day took me by surprise because although I assumed I would start off observing since I hadn’t yet learned the ropes, I actually played as big a role as anyone. I was slated to be one of two facilitators. I could talk about just about anything I wanted but I hadn’t, of course, prepared anything. They suggested I talk about HIV/ AIDS. I was worried because although I have knowledge on the topic, I had not been prepared to give a lesson on it. I had some time during the first presentation to jot down some facts and attempt to create a coherent lesson. In the end, I actually thought it went pretty well. I proceeded to repeat the lesson at another school that day, and then variations on the lesson in four more schools over the last two days. The most interesting part is fielding questions at the end. Some of their questions really take you by surprise. There is a lot of AIDS confusion out there, it’s true. The interested reader can ask me for a list of the questions.
I am really impressed by the vision of Vision. Talking to them is really inspirational. As volunteers, everything they do is done out of the goodness of their hearts and the LOVE of the community they grew up in. The “office” is a tiny room located right within the community. If you ask them, they’ll tell you that it is important to the program to remain in the community, even if it means having a small headquarters. They work as a “family” and I have been officially welcomed as a family member. The team mentality is what I really love.
Today, we spent half of the day in a nearby clinic where we took nine girls with suspected STDs and possible HIV to get counseled/ treated/ tested. These girls were from a school we worked in yesterday. Some of them had anonymously asked questions that suggested there might be a problem. The Vision guys told them to speak to them after the session. They did, and today, action was taken. Just like that. I thought that was really nice. Shows that a day’s work actually has a positive impact.
I like showing off my Uganda knowledge with my new “family.” This includes local food, popular music, and my increasing store of Uganda words. I have found yet another group of people with whom to practice my Luganda skills. Will be fluent in know time (okay, maybe just “decent”). Today I tried a food called a kicommando (pronounced chi-commando) for lunch. It is a mix of cut-up chipati (a flat bready thing) and beans. Everyone kind of laughed when I agreed to eat one, and I wasn’t exactly sure why. Isaac later labeled it a “ghetto food--” something you eat if you want to fill up quickly and inexpensively. So I guess that was the funny part.
Perhaps one day I will tell them that I go by “Meghan” and not “Smith.” I may have mentioned previously that when I arrived here my family called me a combination of “Meghan,” “Lee,” and “Smith” before I set it straight. It is because they have a system of naming that is different than mine. I did feel compelled to tell the family because it sounded so funny to me at that time. But by the time I started work, Smith had actually started to sound fairly natural, so I let it go. And now I've embraced it as my name. You may call me Smith when I get home.
That’s all for my update.
Keep it real,
Meg
Monday, June 22, 2009
"Fitting in"
Written June 17-18, 2009
The theme of this post is fitting in. To start, today (June 17) I attended a “welcome” lunch at Ahmaddiya High School. This is a “fitting in” example. The principal has been trying hard to find a day that I can come. He is great and very pleasant to work with. He started off with a speech where he introduced me and, to my partial surprise, my country. Although he stated that he didn’t want it to get political, he went on about how in Uganda, when things go wrong, people blame the United States, but as evidenced by my being there, the United States is not all bad. He talked about the principles of democracy and acceptance and more and how I will be able to bring promote these positive ideas in the school while I’m there. As I was set to make a “speech” next, I was thinking, how on earth am I going to respond to this? I managed, taking mostly about how important it is to observe and learn from other cultures and that although I hope to contribute something to the school, I expect to gain just as much. I networked with some teachers, too, who were able to help me out by drawing a lovely replication of the male and female reproductive systems on a poster, which I sorely needed a couple hours before class (a collaboration between biology teacher and art teacher).
My cultural knowledge is increasing. A recent addition: Don’t tip in Uganda. I was at a café a few days ago where I sat down and ordered lunch. As I was finishing up, I suddenly realized I didn’t know if I should tip…. And how much. I really had no way of finding out the answer, but I figured it was better to tip when it was not expected than to not tip when it was expected. So I calculated 20% as I would in the US and added that to the bill. The bill was only 5000 schillings, so it was not extravagant. Anyway, later that day, I found out that tipping is either not done or done in very small amounts in rare circumstances. So I made someone’s day with an extra 1000 schillings.
If you ask what the hardest cultural adjustments are, I might say the language “barrier” and the food. When I say language barrier, it is not a barrier per se because almost every person here speaks English and Luganda fluently (English is the official language). But Luganda is used quite frequently and sometimes I just want to know what they are saying, especially when “mzungu” (white person) is in the phrase. I am trying hard to learn Luganda. I practice with members of the family every morning and night.
As far as food, it has been somewhat difficult to adhere to the eating habits here. Three very big meals a day. A quick sandwich or salad is not an acceptable lunch here (sidenote: Someone asked me, “What is this we see in the movies about eating leaves all the time…?”) We ward off comments that we are going to starve at night and that we are going to lose so much weight. I’ve found that I’m just accustomed to small meals and snacks, rather than so much at once. Another adjustment: Dinner here is eaten sometime between 9:00 and 11:00 pm. Yes, right before bed.
EDITOR’S NOTE 1: Maybe it’s just the type of food I’m not used to. Some of the other interns and I treated ourselves to a fast food restaurant a few nights ago complete with cheeseburger and fries, pizza, and an ice cream. I’m slightly ashamed to admit that despite my comments about “too much food,” in the face of this familiar food the issues disappeared. One of the Dutch girls accused me of acting so American. I accepted the comment and finished my burger. So I am more American than I had realized.
EDITOR’S NOTE 2: I believe the “losing weight” comments will cease. “Mommy” told me today that despite my small portions, I am looking good and fat (must be the burger). A bit bigger than I was when I arrived. Woohoo! Imagine someone saying that in the US… I’m glad I was warned of this cultural difference.
Here is a story addressing both of the issues above. A couple of days ago, I went to a very large market with an AIESECer from Uganda. They sell literally everything you can imagine. All the clothes are second hand and apparently brought in from the US and Europe (exclusively). To me, it was a giant maze of alleys. As you walk through crowded and cramped pathways, you enter “shoe world” then “women’s shirt world” then “appliance world,” etc. All the while you are being shouted at (“mzungu! mzungu!”), touched, arms grabbed. At the market we stopped at a “restaurant.” We sat down at this little table with a bunch of strangers. Negotiating how much food I would order took a long time. I seriously did not want a lot, but that is rarely an acceptable answer. The process involved me tasting the pumpkin on my friend’s plate to see if I liked it. I took a tiny bite, and I guess there was something funny about how I did it because every single person at the table—mostly strangers—started hysterically laughing and making comments in Luganda that I couldn’t understand but included “mzungu.” That was one of the moments where I had that burning feeling of just feeling out of place. It doesn’t happen all the time, but every now and again.
The shouts of mzungu do baffle me. Imagine walking down the streets of the US, pointing and shouting “black person!”
There are moments where I happily realize that I do belong here. A couple of days ago, I passed a small test of belonging when I was walking alone around the town and actually bumped into a Ugandan I knew (an AIESECer). This may seem like it’s not a big deal, but it made me oddly happy to be in a crowded, foreign place and know somebody by name. Not that it was warranted but it made me feel pretty popular.
So to wrap it up, things are going well in the schools (I am working at 2 now) and as far as work with the NGO, things are STILL getting settled but I am making progress. By next blog post I expect to report good news.
Love and hugs,
Meghan
The theme of this post is fitting in. To start, today (June 17) I attended a “welcome” lunch at Ahmaddiya High School. This is a “fitting in” example. The principal has been trying hard to find a day that I can come. He is great and very pleasant to work with. He started off with a speech where he introduced me and, to my partial surprise, my country. Although he stated that he didn’t want it to get political, he went on about how in Uganda, when things go wrong, people blame the United States, but as evidenced by my being there, the United States is not all bad. He talked about the principles of democracy and acceptance and more and how I will be able to bring promote these positive ideas in the school while I’m there. As I was set to make a “speech” next, I was thinking, how on earth am I going to respond to this? I managed, taking mostly about how important it is to observe and learn from other cultures and that although I hope to contribute something to the school, I expect to gain just as much. I networked with some teachers, too, who were able to help me out by drawing a lovely replication of the male and female reproductive systems on a poster, which I sorely needed a couple hours before class (a collaboration between biology teacher and art teacher).
My cultural knowledge is increasing. A recent addition: Don’t tip in Uganda. I was at a café a few days ago where I sat down and ordered lunch. As I was finishing up, I suddenly realized I didn’t know if I should tip…. And how much. I really had no way of finding out the answer, but I figured it was better to tip when it was not expected than to not tip when it was expected. So I calculated 20% as I would in the US and added that to the bill. The bill was only 5000 schillings, so it was not extravagant. Anyway, later that day, I found out that tipping is either not done or done in very small amounts in rare circumstances. So I made someone’s day with an extra 1000 schillings.
If you ask what the hardest cultural adjustments are, I might say the language “barrier” and the food. When I say language barrier, it is not a barrier per se because almost every person here speaks English and Luganda fluently (English is the official language). But Luganda is used quite frequently and sometimes I just want to know what they are saying, especially when “mzungu” (white person) is in the phrase. I am trying hard to learn Luganda. I practice with members of the family every morning and night.
As far as food, it has been somewhat difficult to adhere to the eating habits here. Three very big meals a day. A quick sandwich or salad is not an acceptable lunch here (sidenote: Someone asked me, “What is this we see in the movies about eating leaves all the time…?”) We ward off comments that we are going to starve at night and that we are going to lose so much weight. I’ve found that I’m just accustomed to small meals and snacks, rather than so much at once. Another adjustment: Dinner here is eaten sometime between 9:00 and 11:00 pm. Yes, right before bed.
EDITOR’S NOTE 1: Maybe it’s just the type of food I’m not used to. Some of the other interns and I treated ourselves to a fast food restaurant a few nights ago complete with cheeseburger and fries, pizza, and an ice cream. I’m slightly ashamed to admit that despite my comments about “too much food,” in the face of this familiar food the issues disappeared. One of the Dutch girls accused me of acting so American. I accepted the comment and finished my burger. So I am more American than I had realized.
EDITOR’S NOTE 2: I believe the “losing weight” comments will cease. “Mommy” told me today that despite my small portions, I am looking good and fat (must be the burger). A bit bigger than I was when I arrived. Woohoo! Imagine someone saying that in the US… I’m glad I was warned of this cultural difference.
Here is a story addressing both of the issues above. A couple of days ago, I went to a very large market with an AIESECer from Uganda. They sell literally everything you can imagine. All the clothes are second hand and apparently brought in from the US and Europe (exclusively). To me, it was a giant maze of alleys. As you walk through crowded and cramped pathways, you enter “shoe world” then “women’s shirt world” then “appliance world,” etc. All the while you are being shouted at (“mzungu! mzungu!”), touched, arms grabbed. At the market we stopped at a “restaurant.” We sat down at this little table with a bunch of strangers. Negotiating how much food I would order took a long time. I seriously did not want a lot, but that is rarely an acceptable answer. The process involved me tasting the pumpkin on my friend’s plate to see if I liked it. I took a tiny bite, and I guess there was something funny about how I did it because every single person at the table—mostly strangers—started hysterically laughing and making comments in Luganda that I couldn’t understand but included “mzungu.” That was one of the moments where I had that burning feeling of just feeling out of place. It doesn’t happen all the time, but every now and again.
The shouts of mzungu do baffle me. Imagine walking down the streets of the US, pointing and shouting “black person!”
There are moments where I happily realize that I do belong here. A couple of days ago, I passed a small test of belonging when I was walking alone around the town and actually bumped into a Ugandan I knew (an AIESECer). This may seem like it’s not a big deal, but it made me oddly happy to be in a crowded, foreign place and know somebody by name. Not that it was warranted but it made me feel pretty popular.
So to wrap it up, things are going well in the schools (I am working at 2 now) and as far as work with the NGO, things are STILL getting settled but I am making progress. By next blog post I expect to report good news.
Love and hugs,
Meghan
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
On Earning My Stripes
Written June 13, 2009
Hello again. I hate to start on a negative note, but there have been some roadblocks in getting everything settled in terms of work. To recap, I am working in a high school and in an NGO called Kamwokya Christian Caring Community. I have already taught one lesson in the school. I have not, however, began working in the NGO. And I really can’t say when (or if?) I will. I’ve unexpectedly realized that although I thought the more slow-paced African lifestyle was right up my alley, it is not in all cases. I have come to better appreciate and even miss the fast pace and sense of urgency of the United States that makes things happen. There are of course pros of a relaxed, optimistic, unrushed atmosphere, too. Like anything else, it is a tradeoff.
Like I said, I have taught my first lesson at Ahhamadiya Muslim Secondary School, and I was pretty happy with it. To recap again, the goal is to teach kids about HIV/ AIDS while also teaching them skills to relay their newfound knowledge to their friends and peers. The topic of the first lesson was “what is peer education?” My class is made up of the school’s “S.3”’s and “S.5”’s (S for secondary). There are about 30 kids and they range in age from about 15 to 20. I teach by myself, although I might have an “assistant” from now on. I was a little intimidated going in at first. I think they were a bit hesitant at first, but by the end of the hour-long class, everyone was participating and seemed engaged. I really like the fact that at the end of class, a lot of kids come up to you to shake your hand and say thank you for coming.
There is a chance I’ll be working in another school too. There were supposed to be six interns working on this project but we only have two. So Jo and I are hoping to devise a plan that will allow us to deliver the program to all three schools. We’ll have to be a little crafty, hopefully giving each school three days a week.
I am proud to say that I am well on my way to becoming an expert Kampala-navigator. I am earning my stripes here. With the frustrations I’ve alluded to about the work not getting off the ground, I’ve committed to not letting my days go to waste. On Friday, I went to the Uganda National Museum. Pretty cool. They had a special exhibit on climate change, although I spent much more time looking at ancient African artifacts. Arguably, the more noteworthy fact here is that I managed to get there, by taxi, on my own. A small but meaningful accomplishment that means I will be a tried and true Kampalan in no time. Let me describe the taxis:
They hold about 16 people at a time. There is a money collector who sits in the front and leans out the window, summoning weary travelers and ensuring that every seat in filled at all times. When you get to your destination you say “stage” and get out. They’ll stop anywhere along the road. They are crowded and hot, but they get the job done. It costs the equivalent of about 50 cents to get from my home in Bukoto to the Kampala city centre. Perhaps one day I’ll learn to negotiate prices, but for now I happily accept whatever I am charged (it’s usually fair).
So after the museum I taxi’d to downtown Kampala to give myself a self-guided tour. Self-guided with the exception of the guidebook I borrowed from Jo. I managed to check off a few “must-sees” from the book, including the Parliament building, the National Theater, and a great national craft fair to which I will definitely return. I found a cute café to eat lunch in and ordered fruit salad and… a slice of orange cake (ah, cake!!).
I was quite satisfied with my outing and realized that despite being upset that I had to “waste time” all day, this was actually a great opportunity that will be rare once I start working. And I boosted my confidence about navigating on my own about 10 times.
It is fun to see the reactions of Ugandans when they ask me how I get around Kampala and I say by taxi (no, not a “private hire”). And also when I tell them that I do so on my own. Honestly, since I’ve gotten here, it’s kind of been expected and the norm—so I didn’t think that I was doing anything particularly noteworthy. But there has been many more than one occasion where people act surprised and impressed to hear …Brush it off :P. The transportation I have yet to master is the “boda boda.” These are motorcycle-like vehicles. Single passenger. More expensive (and arguably dangerous), but the “door-to-door” service and the ability to dodge traffic may be worth it.
EDITOR’S NOTE: I had my first boda boda ride through Kampala today and it was actually really fun! I was with a Ugandan guy (an AIESECer). We were trying to get a couple of boda bodas, but whenever he tried to negotiate, he’d be overcharged, presumably because they saw me and my skin color. So in the end, I stayed back while Wakib negotiated, and then once the deal was set, he called me over. Surprise!
In other news, I proudly held my own in a 2 on 2 game of basketball with Abraham (one of “my brothers”) and two university students that we met on the court. On one of my free days, I headed with Isaac’s brothers to a sort of recreation center for mostly university students. I was a minority there on two accounts, but I think I temporarily forgot. I even scored the winning point… only one point after it was determined that the white girl had to make the last shot. Good motivation.
Before wrapping it up, this weekend I participated in an AIESEC national conference in Entebbe, Uganda… a “beach resort” right on Lake Victoria. A great opportunity on a few accounts. I met all of the other interns. They are from the US (6 from Yale, plus another from North Carolina), the Netherlands (2), Canada (2), Brazil, and Japan (2). Someone just arrived from Egypt as well. Lots of people from AIESEC Uganda and AIESEC Rwanda took part in the conference. Perhaps about 60 people in all. So there was a good world representation. In fact, on the last night, each country was introduced and each group (or individual) sang its national anthem. My vocal chords and I were grateful that the US was well-represented. The conference ended with some goat-roasting, singing by a campfire, and a dance party. Two of my favorite things and one thing I’d never done before. Guess which is which. Overall, the conference offered a good chance both to have serious conversations with interns and AIESECers about the structure of AIESEC and about cultural issues, and to let loose and have fun. AIESECers are a fun-loving group of people; no doubt about that.
That’s it for now. Until next time,
Meghan
Hello again. I hate to start on a negative note, but there have been some roadblocks in getting everything settled in terms of work. To recap, I am working in a high school and in an NGO called Kamwokya Christian Caring Community. I have already taught one lesson in the school. I have not, however, began working in the NGO. And I really can’t say when (or if?) I will. I’ve unexpectedly realized that although I thought the more slow-paced African lifestyle was right up my alley, it is not in all cases. I have come to better appreciate and even miss the fast pace and sense of urgency of the United States that makes things happen. There are of course pros of a relaxed, optimistic, unrushed atmosphere, too. Like anything else, it is a tradeoff.
Like I said, I have taught my first lesson at Ahhamadiya Muslim Secondary School, and I was pretty happy with it. To recap again, the goal is to teach kids about HIV/ AIDS while also teaching them skills to relay their newfound knowledge to their friends and peers. The topic of the first lesson was “what is peer education?” My class is made up of the school’s “S.3”’s and “S.5”’s (S for secondary). There are about 30 kids and they range in age from about 15 to 20. I teach by myself, although I might have an “assistant” from now on. I was a little intimidated going in at first. I think they were a bit hesitant at first, but by the end of the hour-long class, everyone was participating and seemed engaged. I really like the fact that at the end of class, a lot of kids come up to you to shake your hand and say thank you for coming.
There is a chance I’ll be working in another school too. There were supposed to be six interns working on this project but we only have two. So Jo and I are hoping to devise a plan that will allow us to deliver the program to all three schools. We’ll have to be a little crafty, hopefully giving each school three days a week.
I am proud to say that I am well on my way to becoming an expert Kampala-navigator. I am earning my stripes here. With the frustrations I’ve alluded to about the work not getting off the ground, I’ve committed to not letting my days go to waste. On Friday, I went to the Uganda National Museum. Pretty cool. They had a special exhibit on climate change, although I spent much more time looking at ancient African artifacts. Arguably, the more noteworthy fact here is that I managed to get there, by taxi, on my own. A small but meaningful accomplishment that means I will be a tried and true Kampalan in no time. Let me describe the taxis:
They hold about 16 people at a time. There is a money collector who sits in the front and leans out the window, summoning weary travelers and ensuring that every seat in filled at all times. When you get to your destination you say “stage” and get out. They’ll stop anywhere along the road. They are crowded and hot, but they get the job done. It costs the equivalent of about 50 cents to get from my home in Bukoto to the Kampala city centre. Perhaps one day I’ll learn to negotiate prices, but for now I happily accept whatever I am charged (it’s usually fair).
So after the museum I taxi’d to downtown Kampala to give myself a self-guided tour. Self-guided with the exception of the guidebook I borrowed from Jo. I managed to check off a few “must-sees” from the book, including the Parliament building, the National Theater, and a great national craft fair to which I will definitely return. I found a cute café to eat lunch in and ordered fruit salad and… a slice of orange cake (ah, cake!!).
I was quite satisfied with my outing and realized that despite being upset that I had to “waste time” all day, this was actually a great opportunity that will be rare once I start working. And I boosted my confidence about navigating on my own about 10 times.
It is fun to see the reactions of Ugandans when they ask me how I get around Kampala and I say by taxi (no, not a “private hire”). And also when I tell them that I do so on my own. Honestly, since I’ve gotten here, it’s kind of been expected and the norm—so I didn’t think that I was doing anything particularly noteworthy. But there has been many more than one occasion where people act surprised and impressed to hear …Brush it off :P. The transportation I have yet to master is the “boda boda.” These are motorcycle-like vehicles. Single passenger. More expensive (and arguably dangerous), but the “door-to-door” service and the ability to dodge traffic may be worth it.
EDITOR’S NOTE: I had my first boda boda ride through Kampala today and it was actually really fun! I was with a Ugandan guy (an AIESECer). We were trying to get a couple of boda bodas, but whenever he tried to negotiate, he’d be overcharged, presumably because they saw me and my skin color. So in the end, I stayed back while Wakib negotiated, and then once the deal was set, he called me over. Surprise!
In other news, I proudly held my own in a 2 on 2 game of basketball with Abraham (one of “my brothers”) and two university students that we met on the court. On one of my free days, I headed with Isaac’s brothers to a sort of recreation center for mostly university students. I was a minority there on two accounts, but I think I temporarily forgot. I even scored the winning point… only one point after it was determined that the white girl had to make the last shot. Good motivation.
Before wrapping it up, this weekend I participated in an AIESEC national conference in Entebbe, Uganda… a “beach resort” right on Lake Victoria. A great opportunity on a few accounts. I met all of the other interns. They are from the US (6 from Yale, plus another from North Carolina), the Netherlands (2), Canada (2), Brazil, and Japan (2). Someone just arrived from Egypt as well. Lots of people from AIESEC Uganda and AIESEC Rwanda took part in the conference. Perhaps about 60 people in all. So there was a good world representation. In fact, on the last night, each country was introduced and each group (or individual) sang its national anthem. My vocal chords and I were grateful that the US was well-represented. The conference ended with some goat-roasting, singing by a campfire, and a dance party. Two of my favorite things and one thing I’d never done before. Guess which is which. Overall, the conference offered a good chance both to have serious conversations with interns and AIESECers about the structure of AIESEC and about cultural issues, and to let loose and have fun. AIESECers are a fun-loving group of people; no doubt about that.
That’s it for now. Until next time,
Meghan
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
firstblog post
Greetings from the Bukoto District of Uganda! Having a wonderful time so far. Some things are as I expected them to be/ hoped they would be; other things have shocked me.
Written June 9, 2009
I have more independence in terms of my jobs than I expected to. For one thing, although Jo and I thought that we would be working together, we found out this is not the case (note: Jo is from London and the other intern working on my project). We are each working at an NGO and in a high school. We thought we were both working at Kamwokya Christian Caring Community and Ahammadiya Muslim Secondary (High) School. While this is true for me, it is not for Jo, who is working with two different organizations in Kampala. This means that I will be working alone.
The teaching job itself offers more independence than I was anticipating. I was told that I would be teaching an existing curriculum. But contrary to my expectations, it is my job to develop particular lessons in order to teach this curriculum. I am looking forward to this, as I had hoped that this would be the case, and was kind of disappointed when I was told the curriculum was already in place. I guess I just didn’t word my question properly when I asked.
My first lesson will be taught tomorrow. Jo taught her first yesterday. I am fortunate that I can model my lesson after hers, but in the future we will develop lesson plans together. Actually we are planning lesson 2 together after I finish this.
I also feel more independent in terms of traveling. I had expected, of course, to travel to work with Jo each day, but now, although we will likely take the same taxi routes, we will be heading toward different ultimate destinations. Although it would have been comforting to travel together, I think I will be glad for the extra challenge, as I will learn a lot more about the city, and surely gain some useful skills. We will likely get a taxi together in the morning, but I will get off first. I will then walk to my second job (school) around 4:30, and walk to Jo’s school around 6 to get a taxi home together.
The first time I went into Kampala, I was thinking, there’s no way I’ll EVER navigate this by myself. However, having gone back with Jo a couple of times, I feel much more confident. I know that I know enough to get to where I’m working and back. And at the moment that is all I need. I expect to come home with a set of street smarts that I didn’t have before—or that I didn’t know existed. I expect to be able to hail a cab like nobody’s business and cross any street with ease. With much less than I am used to in terms of traffic lights and stop signs, if “extreme J-walking” were a sport, Kampala-dwellers would do quite well.
As far as the family, I am enjoying integrating myself with them and learning about them. Jo and I have entered a world of 7 boys, plus mom and the maids (It is quite common in Africa to have maids and one of the boys was shocked to learn I didn’t have any). I enjoy sitting in the living room by the TV just hanging out. A couple nights ago, I asked them to teach me some Luganda (the local language—lots of people speak English and Luganda, plus the language(s) of their tribe). I’ve learned the basics—“how are you,” the numbers 1 through 10 and “white person.”
I have been often made fun of by the guys for what I call my “movie illiteracy.” Isaac and his brothers are shocked by the list of movies (and TV series) that I haven’t seen. As Isaac put it, they watch “my people” and my home in movies all the time and that I don’t even bother to watch. Food for thought?
We’ve shared a lot about our respective cultures and homes. So far I have shared the following relevant facts… the meaning of “fives” and “shotgun” and the definition of “cougar” (which Isaac has already used in a sentence at least three times).
Jokes aside, I have had more meaningful conversations, too. Comparing education systems and religion, for example. Why the US drinking age is higher than the rest of the world (relevant, considering my current age [20 and exactly 11 months today]). And why the US would dare to steal the word “football” for an unrelated game. I have also explained the rules of baseball.
So this blog posting is occurring a few days into the trip and postings like it will probably be sparse. One thing that I have really come to appreciate is the Internet access I enjoy at home. Internet is joining the growing list of things I take for granted. There are Internet cafes around the area. Two quite close to our home. My second day, I was eager to send an email to my family and said that told Isaac 10 minutes should be fine. But you pay for 20minute intervals, so I took 20. What I did not anticipate was the time I would spend waiting for pages to load. 20 minutes was not even enough to write my email! I ended up getting another 20 minutes and managing to read about 5 of the 24 messages that had accumulated in 2 and a half days. The fact that at home and at school I can sit at the Internet… and for free… at virtually any moment I feel like is now bizarre to me, and something to appreciate. I am actually not online at the moment. I am typing into Word so I can upload this document in a café tomorrow or some other time (make note of the time delay, by the way). A crafty technique Jo and I came up with.
One more fun fact before I put an end to this lengthy post. I have found it interesting to see what comes to mind when I say that I am from the US. The principal at the school I work in wanted to know how we in New York were doing after the “big shock.” I initially thought… economic crisis? He meant 9/11 and offered his apologies and prayers. People mostly mention Obama. Everyone that I’ve met seems to be a fan (or maybe it’s just that only the fans feel compelled to mention him). I told a 6 year old where I was from yesterday (after he guessed I was from India, and then China), and he responded that he has seen the US on TV. I asked where and he said something that began with “Barack Obama goes to ____.” Finally, today, I got something along the lines of, “I thought Americans were taller…”
So that’s it for now; hopefully more to some soon.
Thinking of YOU (yes, you),
Meghan
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