It's My Life!

Familiar, But Not Quite Normal

2009-05-18T10:10:00.000-07:00

When I got home, everything was really familiar, but not normal. I would make a phone call to say, AT&T and try to greet everyone that answered realizing later that I should just get to the point. Sounds silly, but I came home pretty socially awkward. It's amazing how many social ettiquettes there are in every new place you go.

Well, I recovered quick and now life feels pretty normal. Since home, I've taken the GRE, applied to UW-Milwaukee and enrolled in 2 Anatomy and Physiology classes and a statistics class for the summer, organized a sublet in Milwaukee and ran errands. Lots of errands. I'm applying to a master's program to become a Nurse Midwife. Not sure if I'll get in, but I'm hopeful.

Tomorrow I leave for Costa Rica to accompany my mom down to her hand clinic Nicaragua trip. I won't actually attend the hand clinic, but I'll do a couple days of traveling with her from Costa Rica to Nicaragua. We're planning on stopping at 2 cities on the way and then I'll fly home and she'll hold her clinic in a few hospitals in Managua. Quick trip, but it'll be fun for the last week before school.

I've been really lucky since I've been home; I've been able to see a lot of my family and friends. They've been so supportive and I've loved hearing about everything that's happened since I left. Hope all is well in everyone else's lives. Can't wait to see and hear from everyone.

Coming Home.

2009-03-28T01:33:00.001-07:00

So I’ve been dreaming about coming home every since I got on the plane to come here. I got here and loved my life, but couldn’t help but miss my family and friends. I’ve spent just over 2 years here and loved many (not all) moments here. Uganda is a wonderful and beautiful place with incredible people. It’s a very different culture from my own…hard to get ‘used’ to, but different all the same (not better, not worse).

I’ll be home early (according to my peace corps agreement) for Jessin’s wedding! I can’t wait. All I could think about for the last couple months was getting home. I even made a paper chain (like young children do counting down the days to Christmas) to the date I get home. All I could think about was the excitement to see America, eat Chipolte burritos and anything cold (icecream, especially).

Then I got my plane ticket itinerary. Now I’m all sentimental. It’s not like leaving college or high school. Colleagues have email addresses and consistent phone numbers. They have parent’s home postal addresses. Here…phone numbers, for who can afford phones, change every 6 months for some reason and a whole school can’t even seem to afford a post office box. Teachers get transferred. People move. Once I leave this place, my Ugandan life is over with the exception of the other peace corps people in my group. That’s a weird feeling. I have about 10 days left and how am I supposed to say goodbye to everyone that’s been in my life for the past 2 years. I’m excited to come home, but I can never have this back.

I’ll just name a few things I love about this place.

1. My house: It’s a love-hate relationship. I get tired of birds during the day and bats (pooping everywhere and scaring me), spiders (making webs to run into) and cockroaches during the night. But I love sitting out on my porch staring into the school garden of matokkee (plantain) trees. Cooking on my sigiri (charcoal stove). Sitting on my stool. Sleeping in my bed under my mosquito net (creating a barrier between me and the night time critters). Silence (with the exception of the crickets living in my door frame).
2. My pit latrine: I know I’ve given it a hard time in the past, but when feeling sick and other people are around, being as far from the house as possible is a blessing.
3. My boyfriend: Ahh, I love him. He’s probably what got me through this, but I’m taking him home with me.
4. The people: No one can dispute the fact that Ugandans are accommodating and helpful whenever you need someone. I’ve never known a Ugandan to turn any request for help down, even in Kampala (where I often need someone to walk me to the taxi park despite how many times I’ve been there).
5. The culture: African time is quite the opposite of American time. Well, not just quite…exactly the opposite. That never got easier. But they have a culture that they are very proud of that and many parts of it took me a long time to understand but the longer I spend here, the more appreciation I have for it. The ‘time’ one is really really hard though.

I complain about ‘time,’ but I must point out that all the things I hate are also somehow loved and many of the things I love are also somehow hated.

This experience is one I could never regret or forget. I love the time I’ve spent here, but I’ve realized that I’ve learned as much as I can in my two years. I’ve loved the people and the culture as much as I could. It will be missed and I’m sure I will come home as a socially abnormal human being since I’ve become used to social and culture norms here. I’m sure there is even a difference in my language. They (as in peace corps) say that going home is the hardest part of the whole cultural transition. It’s an odd concept to get used to…we can adapt to an entirely new culture easier than adapting back to our own. I’m nervous.

Well, I fly home April 9th so I guess I’ll be home next Friday. I’m excited, but it freaks me out.

Hitchhiking, Portuguese Church Ladies and Rabbit Meat: 24 Hours in Mozambique [Part 4]

2009-03-17T01:32:00.000-07:00

Part 4

While our coelho was being butchered and prepared we sipped on our fresh mango juice and tried to explain a little about ourselves. We found an atlas on their shelf and showed her where we each lived and worked in Uganda and also where we came from in the States. Then we flipped to a map of Portugal. One of them was from outside of Porto in the north and the other was from the capital, Lisbon. The driver and the one currently tending to us was named Mila, while the other, the butcher and cook, was named Conceicao. They each worked for a Portuguese Catholic missionary movement called “Missionario Boa Nova”, or, the “Missionaries of the Good News”. Mila had been in Mozambique for 10 years and had also previously served for several years in Brazil. Conceicao had been in Mozambique for 4 years and was soon to be returning to Portugal.

With the basic information taken care of and our reserve of Portuguese pretty well exhausted the inevitable awkward silence settled in. We quietly poured more juice, sipped on it slowly, glanced back and forth and casually smiled at each other, and intermittently let out a sigh of vague satisfaction. After a few minutes of this Mila got up and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a video camera in one hand and big smile on her face. She slowly untangled the cords and plugged the camera into the TV. With a remote in one hand she quickly scanned through some images of herself and Conceicao and what appeared to be another younger missionary what had been there some time ago. As the images crossed the screen she continued to talk and very likely tried explaining what we were seeing, apparently either oblivious to us not understanding her or simply indifferent. Finally she slowed the images down to real time and her face lit up as she watched the screen, letting out an occasional giggle. As the images on the TV first slowed my mind must still have been lingering in the travel fog of that day and of the preceding week. I couldn’t quite put together what I was looking at. It didn’t help that the video was a little disorienting with the camera pointed at the floor and no recognizable points of reference on the screen. What appeared to be two creatures were darting in and out of the frame, grappling with each other from time to time, forming an amorphous mass of hair when they collided. Mila was absolutely no help. She just stood a few feet from the TV, silently watching the action with a remote in one hand. I tried squinting and cocking my head and leaning forward. Was that a… cat? Really? Yes. Fair enough. Lots of people have videos of their cats. But what was that other animal? Was it… a monkey? It was. It was a monkey. In one instant of recognition of what we were looking at our evening and indeed our entire afternoon-long interaction with our new friends of the Missionario Boa Nova had descended into the absurd and the surreal. For 20 minutes that evening Amy and I sat silent and motionless in a room in the middle of northern Mozambique and watched a home video of a cat and a monkey wrestling. Life is wonderful.

We were eventually shaken out of our wrestling-cat-and-monkey-induced stupor when Conceicao came in from the back with dinner ready. One look at the serving plate was all it took to at long last translate “coelho”. Rabbit. Coelho means rabbit. Paulo Rabbit. Brer Coelho and the Tar Baby. Of course. This was infinitely better and more reassuring–though probably less interesting–than eating a bat or hyrax. And, more importantly, it was delicious. I had never eaten rabbit before—tender and kind of rubbery, just as you’d expect. We also had some apples, fresh salad and homemade bread. It was amazing to have a homemade meal for the first time in a long while. We were offered to watch more videos with Mila after dinner. I suspected it’d be more mesmerizing exotic-animal-on-domestic-animal wrestling but it turned out they had a fairly extensive collection of Portuguese-dubbed Disney cartoons. Instead, we declined and decided to go to sleep. In a way I think we both wanted to stay up to see what else might possibly happen with these Portuguese Mary Poppins’, full of mischief and surprises. But we also wanted to preserve our already immaculately weird and wonderful day. We were also completely exhausted.

The next morning as soon as we emerged from our room we were ushered to the kitchen table for breakfast. This time there was nothing mysterious about our meal – fresh bread again and delicious instant cappuccino. Afterwards we were eagerly given a tour of their house and compound. At the opposite end of the hallway with our bedroom Mila very proudly showed us their private chapel. Then, without any hesitation, she took us out the back door and into the previously and inexplicably off-limits backyard. She walked us around to see a separate kitchen, an outdoor brick oven for making bread, a garage-closet filled with batteries spitting out cords and plugs and wires leading to a series of solar panels on their roof, and, lastly, a collection of about 30 cages full of soft, sleeping, and red-eyed (and delicious) rabbits. The rest of the yard was like the secret garden, filled with untended plants and flowers and vines overtaking the house and outer walls. Our tour of the rear was admittedly anti-climactic and bewildering considering the efforts Mila and Conceicao had taken the night before to dissuade us from getting back there. Who truly knows the backyard secrets and habits of Portuguese church ladies? Certainly neither of us is any wiser after our stay.

Back in the house we collected our bags and started for the door when all four of us simultaneously scrambled for our cameras. We gathered around the “Missionario Boa Nova” sign in their sitting room and put our cameras on automatic, Amy and I looking like some sort of fairy tale American giants visiting the land of 5:8 scale Portuguese women.

Conceicao gave out two last hugs for us and we finally hopped into the car with Mila who was taking us to the next junction and a few kilometers down the road where we’d be able to catch a bus to Nampula. It felt good at last to have some vague idea of what was happening.

As we approached the intersection to be dropped off steam started rising from out of the hood of the car. After stopping in the middle of the median in the intersection Mila popped the hood and we noticed the tube from the radiator had become disconnected. Not knowing anything about cars I naturally offered to help. Mila was completely serene, declined my offer and just shrugged and walked away. Not only does she pick up strangers on the side of the road, cook rabbit for them and show weird videos, Mila also had apparently attained some kind of otherworldly Zen tranquility in the face of uncooperative and faulty auto mechanics.

We walked away from the hissing Kia and were immediately swarmed by chapa drivers offering to take us to Nampula. Mila stood her ground, though, and refused to put us on a chapa; instead, she was set on getting us on a safer and more efficient bus. As we were walking away from the car a number of terse but still playful words were quickly exchanged between Mila and the flock of chapa drivers before things suddenly hushed and other bystanders started hooting and whistling and laughing. I don’t know what she said but the chapa drivers all smiled and walked away, not saying anything at all to us the rest of our time there, only periodically giving us a sideways look and a smirk. It was like we were on a middle school playground and Mila was the girl who just schooled all the trash-talking boys on the basketball court and the whole school was around to see it.

We all sat down on the curb waiting for the next bus to arrive, Mila rightfully staking us out as her own and not trusting us to be able to take care of ourselves. Amy and Mila sat close to one another, while I was off to one side. We had long ago worn out our efforts with speaking Portuguese but Mila paid no mind. For 10 minutes or more she continued chattering uninterrupted to Amy without any acknowledgement what she understood a single word. Amy dutifully continued to smile and nod her head during all of the pauses. Finally a bus arrived. Hugs and kisses went all around and in one last gesture of infinite and unexpected generosity Mila paid for both of our tickets. Amy and I were both too dazed to offer any resistance. Mila pushed us onto the bus and as we were climbing the steps and looked back we saw her swallowed up in the sea of Mozambicans jockeying for position to enter or leave the bus or hawking their fresh fruit or bread to its passengers.

THE END

Hitchhiking, Portuguese Church Ladies and Rabbit Meat: 24 Hours in Mozambique [Part 3]

2009-03-17T01:22:00.000-07:00

Part 3

Now, at this point, after having been in Mozambique for a week or so, our understanding of Portuguese was limited to greetings, basic bargaining, directions, and standard Lonely Planet-provided phrases. Even with this impressive linguistic arsenal, we were pretty miserable. It seemed that up until that point we had been lucky to run into someone with a modest grasp of English (less modest, at least, than our facility with Portuguese) at just the right time; or, a mix of Amy’s Spanish and my Kiswahili got us by. Luckily, before we left Uganda some friends had given us an English-Portuguese dictionary (without, however, a corresponding Portuguese-English portion, which figures into our plot later on) to help us muddle through the language and the country.

So the initial 15 or 20 minutes in the car was spent just trying to make sense of what was going on, considering we had no idea where we were going or who we were with. Amy and I each took turns alternating between frantically flipping through our dictionary and politely smiling and nodding our heads at what we thought were the appropriate gaps in conversation or when one of the two women would look back at us and smile with eyebrows raised in what we assumed was a request for some kind of affirmation. We managed (I think) to introduce ourselves and mention that we were Americans and just traveling in Mozambique and could speak little-to-no Portuguese (as if that needed any further clarification). We also told them that we were trying to get to Nampula and subsequently asked where they were going. In response, we mostly got some giggling, finger wagging, shaking of heads, and what sounded like a lot of doubtful-sounding Portuguese exclamations. We didn’t need to dig through our dictionary to figure out that we probably weren’t going to Nampula that day. What we did gather during that car ride, however, was 1) they were Portuguese missionaries; 2) they were returning from a day trip to Pemba where they picked up some groceries and checked email; 3) they were, importantly, driving in the right direction; and, 4) they were very, very cute.

We struggled along these same occasionally-amusing, occasionally-frustrating and always-exhausting lines of communication for a lot longer than we expected. Neither of us knew what really was happening. From time to time we would look at each other in the back seat and silently mouth mutual misunderstanding and confusion. At best I think we both hoped to get dropped off at a reasonable guesthouse along the main road; at worst they’d drop us off somewhere and we’d just have to hitchhike the rest of the way. After an hour and a half or more we pulled off the main road in the town of Chiure and drove up to a large, western-style house. We both grabbed our bags and got out, thinking we’d made it to a guesthouse or hotel. Immediately after stepping out of the car the driver tsk-tsked us and motioned for us to put our bags back in the car. Meanwhile, a third lady comes out of the home and gives our two escorts hugs and kisses. Up until now, because of being in the car, neither of us had been able to properly size up our new friends. It wasn’t until this third, new friend unexpectedly hugged me that I first noticed how remarkably tiny each of these women was. I don’t think any of them were over five feet tall. They were so small! They were like animated versions of those oversized stuffed animals you can win at the state fair. And they smiled and talked constantly and they loved giving hugs. They were our very own life-sized Portuguese church lady care bears.

Following a brief conversation and subsequent farewell amongst the three of them, we four got back in the car and continued a few more kilometers down the main road, eventually crossing the river Rio Lurio. Soon afterwards, we again turned off and approached another western-style one-floored house situated next to a Catholic church. As one of them went to open the metal gate to the compound the other motioned for us to get our bags and get out. In typical fashion Amy and I looked at each other and shrugged and followed our instructions, happy to reach some kind of destination for the day.

After and hour and a half in the car Amy and I had attained a sort of calm amidst everything that was happening all around us. Despite not being able to communicate and not really knowing where we’d be that night we both gave up trying to control a situation that was obviously so uncontrollable and unpredictable. This sense of calm was very quickly dislodged once we arrived at the house as our two hosts suddenly descended into a flurry of activity. One drove the car to the back while the other escorted us inside. Soon we found ourselves alone in the main sitting room of the house uncomfortably doing nothing as one of the women prepared our bedroom. The other soon entered the house from the rear and immediately offered us some fresh mango juice before disappearing again without a word. No sooner after we were invited to put our bags inside our freshly arranged bedroom did she sneak out the back door of the house. Meanwhile, the other came back to tell us we could shower if we we’d like and informed us that her friend had gone out back to cook dinner. We politely asked what we were having, mostly just trying to make use of the few words we knew. Our hostess told us that we’d be eating “coelho” (pronounced KWAY-loh) and made an ominous cutting motion with her hand across her throat and pointed to the back of the house. We were instantly fascinated and also vaguely horrified. Apparently the other woman had gone out back to kill a “coelho”, our as-yet-undefined main dish. It didn’t help our morbid curiosity that we were subtly but still suspiciously being prevented from going into the back of the house where our “coelho” was being prepared. We asked what “coelho” was and our hostess put her fingers up to the sides of her head and started making indistinct squeaking noises. At least we knew for certain this time it wasn’t Portuguese. We guessed bat, mouse, squirrel, hyrax (it had been a long day up until then – somehow we lost the logical connection between the animal we were trying to guess and the fact that it was also our dinner. Of course our hosts wouldn’t feed us bat or squirrel or hyrax for dinner. Or would they?). I finally got nosy and started looking through their bookshelf to see if any help in our quest for “coelho” might be found (this whole time I kept thinking of Paulo Coelho, the author of The Alchemist). On the bookshelf I found a Portuguese-Italian dictionary, a Portuguese-French dictionary, a Portuguese-Kiswahili dictionary, and a Portuguese-Makua dictionary, but, naturally, no Portuguese-English dictionary. Curiosity still overwhelmed us but I think we started to worry a little. What the hell we were going to be eating for dinner?

Hitchhiking, Portuguese Church Ladies and Rabbit Meat: 24 Hours in Mozambique [Part 2]

2009-03-09T01:07:00.001-07:00

Part 2

As we sat on the shoulder of the asphalt, munching on our usual and surprisingly satisfying prisoner’s diet of bread and chlorine-neutralized water (supplemented that day by a few sticky sweet mangoes a fellow stranded and waiting traveler had given us), we alternated trying to flag down the occasional passing car or truck. The longer we waited the more we talked about heading backwards to Pemba in order to catch the usual early morning taxi to Nampula the next day. But nothing was going in the other direction, either, so it was looking more and more like we were stuck at the crossroads for the night. As a last resort we scouted out a nearby guesthouse but held off getting a room until we were absolutely sure we needed it.

After a handful of fruitless attempts to flag down the occasional passing car or truck, a glimmer of hope came when a Kia SUV about the size of a mini-fridge puttered by us with what appeared to be two European women in the front seats. We each leapt up and began violently waving our arms about in our best attempts to get their attention. Sadly, consistent with our luck with transportation on the trip up until then, the little car kept going. We looked at each other in mutual alarm and disbelief and dejectedly sat back down by the roadside, completely beside ourselves that two fellow traveling foreigners would completely ignore us, literally on the side of a road to nowhere (It wasn’t until a bit later, after our frenzy of misguided self-pity subsided, that our thoughts turned more sensitive and curious, wondering what in the world these two little ladies were doing in northern Mozambique all by themselves. More on that later).

This reaction probably doesn’t seem entirely or even partially logical (and, frankly, it isn’t, really) and maybe it seems even wildly tactless and incoherent. Fair enough. But let me take a moment to try to explain—not to justify—our initial outrage at being ignored on the side of the road.

Being a foreigner or, more to the point, white, in Africa has many obvious and distinct benefits to go along with all of the negative attention and hassling we are consistently subject to. One, namely, for better or for worse, is the at-first-completely-disorienting-and-off-putting-but-later-completely-accepted-and-expected privilege of being forced to the front of lines and unwittingly taking precedence for service over others (that is, locals) who clearly had been there first and had been waiting longer. It’s something we haven’t ever gotten comfortable with and as it’s happening it’s something we’re often conscious of and even discussed amongst ourselves, but it’s also something we’ve come to more or less accept and even occasionally (rightly or wrongly; mostly the latter, I imagine) take advantage of for the sake of common sense convenience. It seems the longer we are here, the less we think about it and the more frequently we take advantage of these small favors. This means we can get a seat in the front of a minibus when there are already people sitting there. It means we can move to the front of the line at the well or borehole or tap to get water where there might be a dozen women and kids already lined up. This kind of stuff happens everywhere, every day. And to clarify further, we are generally offered these small social allowances by those same people we are displacing in line rather than outright requesting them for ourselves. It was this rather unsettling and conditioned privilege that caused us such alarm and dismay when these two ex-pat ladies passed by us when we clearly needed a ride (completely disregarding the fact that there were about 12 or 15 Mozambicans waiting with us who, with equal urgency and likely fewer resources, needed to get somewhere along the same road we were traveling). This is all very difficult to justify and explain, of course; especially to those who haven’t been here. These not-so-subtle and eventually conditioned privileges aren’t a set of circumstances or social hierarchies that are in any way fair—it’s just one of those strange and disconcerting facts of life here that you simultaneously get used to but remain conscious of and uncomfortable with.

Well, the looks of horror on our faces must have registered with the ladies in the passing Kia as a few minutes later they came down the other side of the road and waved us over to talk with them. It was immediately apparent that neither of them spoke a word of English. But through a brilliant combination of broken Spanish, wild hand gestures and some indiscriminate Portuguese numbers, Amy was able to elicit a vague nod and hand wave from the driver that we interpreted (not necessarily correctly) as an invitation to get in the car with them.

Hitchhiking, Portuguese Church Ladies and Rabbit Meat: 24 Hours in Mozambique [Part 1]

2009-03-04T04:37:00.000-08:00

Part 1

Sitting on the side of the main road somewhere between Pemba on the coast and Nampula further inland to the west, it had already been a long day. We had gotten up at something like 4a.m. that morning on the advice that we’d better be on the beach at sunrise in order to be assured of a spot on the first out-going dhow to get back to the mainland from eerie, lazy, lost, wonderful Ilha do Ibo.

After nearly two years in Uganda neither of us had quite wised up to the fact that no one ever needs to be in a hurry in Africa. This notion is always in the back of our heads of course, and we typically even talk about not wasting our time by showing up ‘on-time’, but American stubbornness and ignorance always prevail and we dutifully show up punctually and find ourselves feeling like suckers waiting (for hours, usually) on everyone else. It certainly didn’t ease our minds that Ibo was literally off the coast of the middle of nowhere and we had a good stretch of land between us and our next destination, Nampula, an otherwise un-noteworthy transportation hub and largest town in northern Mozambique. A few days before, from Pemba, we nearly missed a 4a.m. mini-bus that we had arranged the previous night to swing by our guesthouse because it actually showed up early. It just goes to show that whenever you think you’ve got this placed figured out, something sensible happens.

So, to briefly recap our already-overlong day that eventually found ourselves semi-stranded on the side of the road, our morning consisted of the following:

1. Waking up at 4am on Ilha do Ibo after having spent the previous evening sitting in a turret of a the 18th century Fort of São João Batista sipping on cold Castle Milk Stouts, watching the sunset over the Indian Ocean and Mozambique coastline;

2. Sitting on the beach waiting for 2 hours for our dhow to load up and leave;

3. Riding for an hour and a half on an overcrowded dhow trying to not get smacked in the face by the flying fish hurtling past us and willing our way through the bottom-scraping, low-tide channel between Ibo and mainland Mozambique; and, finally,

4. Loading our bags onto the roof of a chapa (the main means of pubic transportation in Mozambique: basically a converted Ford F350 with a flimsy and dubiously welded metal frame draped over the back with unreasonably cramped and awkward wooden benches lining the sides of its bed); hopping into the back of it with about 30 other people, hundreds of pounds of rice and bananas and untold numbers of farm animals; trying for 5 hours not to rub our rear ends raw on the wooden planks by alternating using my coat as a seat cushion and turning around to dangle my knobby and bafflingly white legs out the side of the truck in order to be reassured of feeling in my toes, while doing my best not to hit any oncoming trucks, bicycles, pedestrians, trees, or bushes. Or monkeys.

Despite embarking on our vacation equipped with two Mozambique travel guides and talking to several friends who had visited before us, we somehow remained woefully unprepared for the transportation situation there. Uganda is a small, densely population country that seems to have transportation options available to nearly every part of the country at nearly every hour of the day. In contrast, Mozambique is a much larger country with a significantly smaller population and a more degraded network of roads (particularly in the north, where we were traveling). As a result, transportation there, in a way, is more systematic but initially it’s a totally bewildering experience—at least it was to us, who were so used to the relative luxury and convenience of travel in Uganda (Convenient? Transport in Uganda? Really? Really.). It turns out that ALL relatively long-distance transport in Mozambique leaves early, early in the morning. Like 3 or 4 a.m. early. And that’s it for the rest of the day. So, if you’re a couple of well-seasoned and ambitious travelers like (ahem) us, you get up at 4 a.m., hop on the bus, arrive at the first stop at 8 or 9, and then get stuck in same no-name transport hub because all the options to points further down the line already departed earlier that morning. Needless to say, this was frustrating for us. We were on a pretty tight itinerary (compulsively prepared on Microsoft Excel by Amy weeks or even months ahead of time, God bless her), trying to cover a handful of sights spread out over a big area in a matter of 10 days or so. It wasn’t until later on in the trip, until those few hours of hopelessly waiting on the side of the road between Pemba and Nampula, patiently allowing our butts to recover from our 5 hour chapa ride from the coast with our limbs intact and no dead or wounded bicyclists or monkeys in our wake, that we belatedly discovered the wonders of hitchhiking. And Portuguese Church Ladies.

work, mostly

2009-02-26T21:47:00.000-08:00

The Dragonfly Story

My cousin, Jenny Olson, started a company recycling onesies in honor of her lost baby, Jack. It is to remember him forever. Here is the story,

“In the bottom on an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the lily stems to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what had happened to him. Soon one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number.

The fact that we cannot see our friends or communicate with them after the transformation which we call death is no proof that they cease to exist.”

By Walter Dudley Cavert

I gave four of these away to families who have babies and told them the story. Many, if not most, families lose a baby or young child to malaria, HIV/AIDS, etc. This served as a reminder that they aren’t gone completely.

Work

The libraries are set up at two schools: Ssezibwa and Bishop Brown. The children absolutely love them. I’m usually in the computer room after school getting ready for computer class and whenever the bell sounds indicating the end of the day I’ll see maybe 50 children race by my door. The first time this happened I was so confused so I looked to see where they were going and it was straight to the library…there is only enough room for about 30 pupils so that’s how many we allow. The children were all racing to get in line. This happens everyday with a different class. 3rd grade is Mondays, 4th grade Tuesdays, 5th grade Wednesdays, etc.

We’ve had a few unforeseen problems – the termite hill at the Bishop Brown Library, which I think I’ve already posted pictures of. An iron door is being put in this week, hopefully. Also, the library at Ssezibwa is in bad condition. The shutters and door are broken along with the floor. We are raising money among the parents and I’ll probably add in the left over money I have from my SPA grant. Raising money is good because it gets everyone involved, but it is slow going. So I may borrow the money to the school so we can get everything accomplished before I go so I can be sure the library is settled and set up properly. Currently it is in the 2nd grade classroom, which works fine temporarily.

The computer class is also going well. Two laptops are at Kanjuki UMEA, about 5 kilometers north from the center school so teachers in that area can learn. One laptop is at Ssezibwa 3 kilometers southwest. Two computers and two laptops are still at Bishop Brown for the computer classes held here. I want to send a laptop to a school south east of Bishop Brown, but I’m waiting for a capable teacher to take over that area. Well, that’s a lie. There are plenty of capable teachers that have gone through the program from that area but very few schools have electricity that way so I’m waiting for a responsible teacher at a school with electricity.

Reproductive health is finished. I taught at 13 schools…about 2500 pupils. I only taught the girls, so personally, I can only claim teaching about half that number. The children have had some great questions and every session I leave happy. This program has been good for me because it yields immediate results.

Other than that…I’m coming home!!!! It hasn’t sunk in that I’m leaving this place. I can be really harsh on my feelings towards Kayunga, but every time I leave it for more than 3 days, I miss it. I’ve started telling people I’m leaving soon just so it doesn’t come up out of nowhere and I almost feel bad. Like I’m leaving them. Either way, I’m still excited to get home, take a shower, feel carpet, eat sandwiches, pee inside, cook a meal in less than an hour…put the leftovers in the fridge for later. But I will miss sitting on my porch in the silence only to be broken by the children who hang out with me everyday, having the luxury to do anything I want on any given day, heck, I’ll probably miss the food and the pit latrines too.

So going out in Kampala with friends from Peace Corps, I think we’ve all noticed that our social skills are lacking. We seem to be fine around each other and around Ugandans, but when it comes to other Americans…we’re just awkward. One girl who went back mentioned that our casual bathroom humor talk is not so funny in America. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but it’ll be interesting to see how I (or we all) cope with American life/culture.

I’m still waiting for those Egypt and Mozambique/Malawi stories, but I’ll post them as soon as they come from my parents and Joseph.

Sorry I don't have more time to post pictures.

Egypt

2009-02-13T02:31:00.000-08:00

Camel trekking to our snorkeling destination. Hurts your bum with all that bumping.

classic picture with sphnix and pyramid.

random photos

2009-02-13T01:59:00.000-08:00

Crazy hair.

Mountain Dew came to Uganda.

My neighbor boy pretending to be me.

Hooter's shirt!

Pictures of bishop Brown Library

2009-02-13T01:09:00.000-08:00

The unexpected termite hill that formed over school holiday. That was not fun breaking up, but we poured lots of 'whoknowswhat' chemicals down to kill them so they don't build again.

Coming home!

2009-01-31T03:16:00.000-08:00

My end date hasn't been completely confirmed yet, but it will definitely be somewhere between April 10th and April 16th of this year.

My last few months will be spent in Kayunga for the last term. I'm setting up a library at a new school this term, and continuing the computer training.

As I've said over and again, I'm trying to make a final video so everyone can see where their donated books went. Hopefully I'll have it done by the end of March. Thanks for all your support and I'll try to get write more about the work I'm doing here soon. And posts on Egypt from my dad...mozambique and malawi from joseph.

2008-11-21T01:48:00.000-08:00

my friends.

2008-11-21T01:20:00.000-08:00

a maribou stork. a pterodactyl-like bird found in kampala.

a baby that was born after I got to site and is now walking. here she is walking to my house on her own, but I'm not there.

Election day in kampala.

pictures

2008-11-21T00:45:00.000-08:00

Joe at his sister's introduction ceremony. He's with his host sister and brother.

a woman helping me put on my gomez for the introduction ceremony.

joe and amy

Joe lined up with the other brothers of the family presenting himself to the groom's family.

2008-11-21T00:11:00.000-08:00

Having tea in the morning entertained by a monkey.

a baby bat that was found in my house.

joe saying goodbye to the bat.

our rwenzori hike.

2008-11-20T23:50:00.000-08:00

this is how children who are too small for a bike that is too big ride.

the stove I use to cook. it uses charcoal. and that's my teapot.

Annual goat race held in Kampala.

picture of kayunga.

picture of kayunga.

pictures

2008-11-20T23:12:00.000-08:00

in kayunga. my favorite bar because the beer is almost always cold and cost $0.70 per 0.5 liter bottle.

cow intestines for sale everyday in my market.

the meat is hung from a hook in the sun all day for sale in the market.

the vegetable market in my town.

a truck load of matookke being brought in. the staple food in the central region of uganda.

and more.

2008-11-20T22:26:00.000-08:00

Kampala.

Signs that are posted all over kampala.

Joseph getting a shave in his town. The electric shaver was hooked up to a car battery for power then a cow's tail was used to brush away any loose hairs.

more pictures

2008-11-20T21:49:00.000-08:00

a picture of my mosquito net for Briana since I couldn't explain it on the phone. I have to put this down every night before it gets dark or else I wake up itching.

a boy peeing in the taxi park. it is somehow appropriate to pee wherever.

the quality of taxis we ride in. a hole on in the floor. have to be careful to not let any of your stuff fall through.

how they transport meat. not up to american standards in sanitation.

a milk drinking contest between Joe and two other peace corps volunteers back in training. the milk is warm and it had to be put through a strainer before drinking. all three ended up puking.

work

2008-11-16T01:17:00.000-08:00

I’ve been hanging out in Kayunga a lot these past few months trying to get all my projects established before the term lets out. The library at Bishop Brown is going well. Pupils fill it everyday and we’ve started checking out books. I was a little hesitant to check out books because there are so many pupils and no real way of identifying them, but it is going on well so far. The next step is to have a meeting with parents about allowing their children time to read. Children have so many chores at home that they don’t seem to even have 5 minutes to do their own thing. On Monday, November 24th Wasike (my counterpart) and I will talk to parents. We will try to encourage parents to get involved by helping their children read, but most parents don’t know English. Maybe this could be an opportunity for the parents to learn as well!!! Or at the least the parents will allow them time to read on their own.

The library doubles as a classroom for disabled children taught by a Japanese volunteer (similar to Peace Corps) and she is very involved in making decorations for each coming holiday. One day she ran up to me asking about Halloween and how to teach the children about that. Here class is anywhere from 2 to 5 pupils. She ended up hanging up bats, ghosts, witches, and pumpkins all colored by her pupils. After doing that, pupils who came into the library to read and do puzzles couldn’t stop asking me questions about Halloween. Try explaining the holiday to children and you’ll see how ridiculous it sounds. “Well, we put on clothes to pretend we are something else and go around to different houses to find treats. We cut out pumpkins and put candles inside. We walk around houses that have been made to be scary. We ride in carts pulled by tractors filled with hay drinking hot chocolate.” Their questions, “Do adults dress up too? Why do you waste a pumpkin that can be eaten? Why would you walk into a house that you know is scary? What is hay?” Anyway, now the library is decorated with a huge Christmas tree on the wall and they all know about Christmas.

The library at Bishop Brown has a good number of books, but they keep coming, so Ssezibwa is also getting a library. This is one of the projects I want to finish by the end of the month and hopefully the teachers will allow it to be open over term break since the pupils have two full months off of school.

The computer classes are still happening. The desktop computers at Bishop Brown had been down and those are now working and can be used by any teacher within the town council area. One laptop was placed at Ssezibwa so the teachers there and teachers of surrounding schools can be taught by teachers that have been previously taught. That school is to the south. On the 22nd of this month, I will bring two laptops to Kanjuki UMEA, a school to the north so teachers of surrounding schools to the north can also learn. A big problem with always having the classes at Bishop Brown was transport for teachers so now most teachers and within walking distance of a computer.

Penpal letters have come to a stand still. In the beginning, I was collecting all the letters and sending them home with family member who sent them to the school, but now they are responsible for sending their own letters. Teachers had told me the pupils would be able to afford the postage, but now other teachers are reporting to me that they cannot afford. It has been a bit of a frustrating battle, but hopefully we will find a solution to that problem soon.

The reproductive health program has stopped. We did it at 9 schools in the Kayunga area and also 1 school at Joseph’s site in the east. I enjoyed that program. It appeared to be very beneficial to the girl’s we taught and from what the male peace corps volunteers said, also the boy’s.

The last thing is literacy training for the teachers on how to use the story books in their classrooms. A friend, Brett, came to hold two different sessions. One was on ‘free reading,’ and the more recent one on ‘guided reading.’ Both went well, but it has been a struggle getting the teachers to actually use the books. Next term I will try to push them to use the books enough to see the benefits, but for now the pupils read in the library during their break time.

I have lots of pictures, but like always I have to wait until I get to internet that is fast enough to upload.

pictures

2008-10-08T02:44:00.001-07:00

I wanted to post a bunch of pictures but I only had time to post 4...they take so long to upload, so hopefully I will find more time to post.

Brett, Katherine and I in african clothing

At Lake Bunyoni while my father was visiting trying to shoot a pygmy's bow and arrow...without luck.

Dressed in a hot pink gomez at an introduction passing the microphone.

Wait, just kidding...they want me to give a speech so the mic was given back to me.

THE LIBRARY IS OPEN

2008-10-08T01:56:00.000-07:00

During the term break (August 16th – September 15th) we got the library all set up. I received a grant to build bookshelves and so it began. With the help of many other peace corps volunteers and Kumiko (a Japanese volunteer stationed at Bishop Brown – my school) we got the books from Kampala back to Kayunga, bookshelves built, room set up, etc. Organizing the books is more tedious work than I could have ever imagined, but all the books were put onto an excel spreadsheet that was printed out alphabetically by title, then by author, then by category. We separated the books into 8 categories: Easy, Intermediate, Difficult, Science, Science Oversized, Oversized, Chapter Books and Guided Reading Books. After labeling all the books, we shelved them in alphabetic order based on category, then title. I’ve registered over 900 books sent from home! I can’t believe how much support I’ve gotten.

The first week of school not many pupils show up because the pupils are required to clean the school compound (slashing the grass and such). Honestly, I wouldn’t come either…hard labor is not my idea of fun. The second week I held library orientation for each class down to P4 since P1 and P2 only learn Luganda in class and P3 is still too young to read in English. Orientation was interesting. I stood at the front talking to the pupils about how to read a book and how to care for a book, etc and they just continued to ask ‘When can we come? When is it open? What time? What day?’ I could see the excitement in all of their faces so at the end I answered all the questions and then said ‘Raise your hand if you like to read.’ Every hand goes up. Then, ‘Why do you like to read?’ All the hands go down. Upon coaxing answers out of them I received things like ‘You can gain knowledge.’ ‘You can practice your english.’ Then one boy stood up and said ‘I like to read because reading is beautiful.’ I thought it was sweet.

The library opened yesterday (October 1st) and it was a little chaotic. I had originally wanted no more than 25 pupils in the classroom but when it came down to it, I couldn’t refuse children at the door. Although I do refuse the little ones, but they always find ways to sneak in. Putting the books back has been a real hassle so we are trying to come up with a new strategy for that. Also, one kid pulled out a puzzle so I started showing her how to do it and kids crowded around to see and now puzzles are the new favorite. Children bolt out of their classrooms as soon as the bell rings for breaktime, lunchtime and after school so they can arrive at the library first to ensure getting a puzzle for themselves. There are about 15 puzzles so pieces have already gone missing and have been put back in the wrong bag. Overall they are pretty careful with the stuff and I’m hopeful that it will last.

I make all the pupils sign in when they enter the library and it gets crowded by the book so I know many don’t do it, but the first day over 100 pupils had signed in. They are allowed to come at break time (10:30-11am), then again at lunch time (1-2pm) and last after school (3:30-5pm). Eventually I hope to help children reading, but as of the second day it is open, things are too chaotic to do anything but monitor and help with puzzles.

Another volunteer, Brett, came to Bishop Brown to hold a workshop on free reading during class. So just allowing the pupils to choose a book and sit around the compound to read. Tomorrow (October 3rd), she’s coming to do a workshop on guided reading with the class. I have received 2 sets of books that are uniform (60 of each set). One is an intermediate book, maybe for P4 and the other is a small chapter book for P6. If the teachers don’t understand exactly how to use them, I may start teaching an English class twice a week.

Other work…the reproductive health classes ended last term and we may start those up again. The computer class continues to go on. I used grant money to repair both of Bishop Brown’s computers and buy new monitors for them. Also, I have received a total of 5 laptops. The 3 working ones have been put to use. One is at Ssezibwa, a school where my first computer students are from; they are teaching others from the school. The other two have been used at Bishop Brown and I have been teaching on them since the Bishop Brown computers were broken for a long time. The two that aren’t working I will take to Kampala next week for repairs.

I think that is all to report for work!

A World Far From the One I Know

2008-09-22T07:20:00.000-07:00

WARNING: I am posting pictures of this event at the bottom of the entry. Some are graphic so if you don't want to see them, don't scroll down. I don't want to offend anyone by posting these so be aware.

I arrive to Mbale Sunday night because we think we have an early morning Monday. Turns out the event we want to attend, 40 minutes away in Busheeka, doesn’t start until 4 pm. So we mosey around town and leave around 2. The drive up has green rolling hills on every side – it’s a view that’s hard to find outside a state/national park.

As we’re driving up we hear the sound of drums, then see the parade of people walking past us towards a river. The ceremonies have started.

Mbale is on the eastern part of Uganda and the tribe found there is called the Bugisu. Tribal customs require that every male get circumcised between the ages of 15 and 25. This circumcision ceremony happens for one month every two years so the opening ceremony was held in Mbale and then from that day on for a month numerous boys are circumcised every day. The trick to seeing one (which isn’t difficult) is to know which village is holding them on which day. Through other peace corps volunteers we heard there was one happening in Busheeka, hence our trip to that village.

We aren’t really sure where to go since there are three distinct sets of people drumming and parading. The guy sitting next to us in the taxi is a talker and ends up being our guide to the ceremony being held closest to our stop. He guides us up this muddy hill (it rains every day in these hills) where with my traction-amazing chacos I make it up with ease. Rishi, on the other hand, is wearing loafers with no traction on and is traveling slow, slipping along the way. Zac is wearing tire sandals and looks like a lost cause, but he is moving slower and steadier than Rishi. We make it up the hill with no real falls.

Right when we arrived, people swarmed us asking if we were here to see the circumcision ceremony and that we have to make a donation to the participants if we want to watch. We had known this previously so we say it’s fine and will make our donation after. They are a bit concerned about me because women aren’t permitted to watch but as always the exception is made because I’m white (I’m not trying to be racist, but we do get a lot of special treatment because of the color of our skin). There is one man in particular that comes up to talk to us with a big stick and he says he is in charge of beating the participants if they get scared. I simply request the he doesn’t beat me if I get scared and he agrees.

Here’s where I start getting scared. Men are walking back from the river where they took each participant (there are three on this day) to get smothered in mud. Everyone is banging drums and making as much noise as they can. Some men are wearing metal on their knees so when they stomp all the metal clinks together for noise. When they get close they start stomping in the mud, so much that I end up with mud on my camera and clothes.

They are so excited for us to get pictures and see this ceremony as a foreigner that they continually try to put me closest to the man getting cut. This is in no way enjoyable. They put me so close for the first one that I thought they were expecting me to do the cutting. I get out my camera because they insist that I take pictures and the first guy walks up. The two men who are in charge of circumcising this guy pulls out his penis and starts peeling it down just like you would a carrot. The knives look dull and I get nauseous. The skin goes from black to white and bloody. I start shaking, not only because it looks so painful, but it looks as though it is hap-hazardly done. The cutters are not even close to what anyone would consider a medical professional. And I had known previously that it is not uncommon for mistakes to occur…cutting too deep, hitting the urethra and then the man has to keep a tube in for the rest of his life.

One done and I am ready to go. But the people are so excited to have me see the next one that they pull me back into the crowd and put me in the same position. This time instead of focusing on the cutting, I look at the boy’s face. He looks so drugged that he doesn’t even seem to know what is happening to him. His face is covered in mud and he is gripping a wood plank placed across his shoulders. The families or the father rather, will give the boys a ‘special plant’ and A LOT of local brew so that the pain is lessened. If the boy cries out, he shames the family so the father of the boy will take extra precautions against that happening. At this point, I cannot take my eyes off this boy’s face because if I look down, I know I will puke and possibly pass out. It ends and I have taken pictures, I’m not sure what of because I didn’t want to look, but I point and shoot hoping for the best.

Two done and I am refusing to see the third. As they drag me in, I am pulling myself away saying ‘please no more.’ The crowd is obviously stronger than me and not all that concerned about what I want. I watched the third one and meant to get a video, but I was in such a state of shock by that time that there was no use in trying. I want to point out that most Bugisu on the way to the ceremony were yelling ‘Prevent AIDS, get circumcised.’ It has been proven that circumcised men are less likely to contract STD’s and HIV, but many boys contract HIV during their circumcision ceremony because the same knife is used for all boys without being cleaned so blood transfers from one boy to the next. This is probably the biggest problem with the circumcision ceremonies, more so than cutting too deep.

Immediately after this one ended, we left. We got out of there as quick as possible, but considering the hill we had to climb up and now have to climb down, we could only move so fast. Rishi fell and I heard from about 15 laughing Ugandans before I saw his entire side covered in mud. After walking on the road for a long time, we got a taxi back to Mbale and I went to bed still shaking from what I saw.

There is another tribe that does female circumcision, also in the east, but I don’t think I’d be able to stomach another one. And, from what I understand, the female circumcision is done purely to make sex painful for a woman therefor discouraging her from cheating on her husband with other men. Both the female and male circumcisions are mandatory within the tribe.

A Child's Fun

2008-09-09T05:31:00.000-07:00

There are many things that happen daily that go unmentioned, but today I feel like writing so I’ll tell you about my day.

Main Characters:

BLAZE VALENTINE – A 3 year old boy who acquired his name from being born on Valentine’s Day. Many children are scared of white people, but this particular teacher’s boy who sees me everyday was scared of me for an entire year, only recently getting over it and now thinks we’re best friends…we’re not. He cries a lot and always pees his pants. This would be okay and not a deal breaker for our friendship except that he tends to pee his pants on my mat or my wooden chair. Not cool.

JOAQUIN – Nickname Joa. A 3 year old boy who appears to be Blaze’s boss (and also mine). This boy is in his own little world and anyone who has met him will agree. He comes to my house everyday, maybe 3 times a day to play. He cries a lot, but is still my best friend. Although communication is a problem we still listen to each other. We can sit and have full conversations (him in Luganda and me in English) and only understand little bits of what each other is saying but still talk.

DUCKLING – A newborn black and yellow fluff of adorableness.

Story:

I’m walking home from the market one day and I see Blaze and Joa playing. As I walk closer they point at something, so excited to shoe me their new toy they can hardly contain themselves. I see this tiny, fluff ball. It’s a baby duckling with its yellow and black baby fluff. Oh, it’s so cute trying to waddle away from the boys.

Blaze gets to excited he wants to catch it. He’s three and therefore hasn’t quite mastered the stop element to running. Before we know it he has run over the duckling – its head getting the brunt of the weight. When he realizes what he’s done he starts screaming and runs away.

When I get a closer look I see that the duckling isn’t quite dead but has suffered a massive blow to the head taking all feathers off. I can’t kill it – I feel awful that it’s hurt and even worse that I can’t finish it. Euthanasia is out of the realm of things I can do. I walk away leaving Joa, the tough one of our trio. I am not just leaving Joa though, I am hoping that Blaze’s screams will initiate an adult response.

Next thing I know I’m sitting on my back porch reading, trying to forget about the duckling scene. Joa comes back holding this dead duckling by the wing. He walks in my yard and goes to set it down turning around just before he does to see my reaction.

As I see this I stand up and say ‘Nedda!’ (NO!) and point further away. He thinks this is really funny because he walks about 4 steps and does it again. All the while, he is laughing. Finally he reaches a reasonable distance away and waits for my nod to chuck the baby duckling as far as a 3 year old can throw.

After this is finished they both come to my house to do a victory dance.

Speaking of unmentioned stories…Joseph just wrote a text “coming down from where we stayed this morning we passed a checkpoint where the guard had an AK47 strapped over his shoulder and an Applebees Polo-style shirt on.” We are used to the guards with the AK47s, but it is always a treat to see their ‘professional’ clothing. Any shirt with a collar is professional.

Matatus (taxis)

2008-08-02T04:14:00.000-07:00

A little bit on transport in Uganda...

The taxis don't leave until they are full. And full to our standards is a bit different than full to Ugandan standards. For instance, leaving the taxi park in Kampala where rules are regulated, the taxi looks like this:

The pink man is the driver. The purple is the conductor (the one who collects money), the blue are the passengers, the red dots are babies scattered amongst the taxi, in the back there is a chicken in olive green and 2 goats in brown. I haven't included the luggage each person brings...really awkwardly shaped plastic items that don't fit anywhere except on your lap. But adding this would make the picture all muddled.

Now, when leaving Kampala and the taxi is filled to this capacity there is not much point in thinking about strategy on where to sit unless you are really tall and then the back is not the seat of choice. BUT the problem is is that the taxi never stays this way. Although the rule says a 14 passenger maximum is allowed, that is slightly changed outside of Kampala to a 14 passenger minimum. Here is a pretty common scene for a taxi after leaving the city:

Additions to this from the last are the lime green extra passengers picked up on the outskirts of kampala, the red circles are small children. This is still considerably comfortable if you have planned it out well. By planning I mean...Get the front seat and if that doesn't work, you assess the situation:

1. The size and shape of the other passengers and which rows are they sitting in - women have some big booties and there for big hips that can be painful if put between 2 large women.

2. How many children are in each woman's possession - ineveitably almost every women in the taxi will have children along for the ride, but sometimes they can be hiding and you sit down...next thing you know they are sitting on your lap the whole ride. Or babies who cry a lot, never fun to be stuck there. And taxi rides are a great time to breast feed so if you are uncomfortable with topless women around it's best not to take public transport.

3. Which jump seats are broken - this can be rough if caught in a bad seat. The seats at times won't hold themselves up or won't have a back to them so you have to them.

4. Look for the ones who like to talk - no matter how good the conversation starts, it almost always turns into a conversation of trying to convert you to another religion or trying to get a sponsor from America or whatever country you tell them you're from.

5. How many sacks of whatever are under which seat - it is already a pretty cramped space so you must look on the floor to see how much stuff is there. Foot freedom is key.

6. Whose next to the window - Ugandan women tend to refuse to open the window creating a hot box for the rest of the passengers, whereas men always open the window to allow body odor out, fresh air in.

There are many more, but the rest are mostly individual preferences. I think I got all the main ones that most everyone looks at.

Also, we are still on pretty main roads with this taxi. The deep village taxis there is no strategy except hold your breath and dive in. This one time I was coming from the village and to keep me in the taxi the conductor had to on my back while closing the door like you do when your suitcase is to full...sit on it while zipping it closed. I'll try to find (or take) some pictures of taxis so there is a real life picture for you and not my paint version.

My attempt to travel alone.

2008-07-25T01:23:00.000-07:00

My natural sense of direction is not something I generally brag about and Poland definitely should not brag about their general knowledge of the English language (or at least willingness to use it) or their friendliness.

I am considerably open to asking for directions every 5 minutes to be confident in the way I am going, but these Polish were sending me in circles so I tried to just figure it out on my own. I wanted to walk to the beach, one said to follow the river, another said that that isn't possible. I walked around the town about 4 times. Fine, whatever I will just start walking north, I eventually I have to hit the Baltic Sea...can't miss it, right?! I passed a lot of industrial looking ports and a lot of creepy neighborhoods...by this time I am watching the road signs and following the tram tracks. I have walked about 5 km not knowing if I am walking in the right direction. At 6.5 km, I was so frustrated from not knowing where I am going that I decided to get on the tram and go back to where I started to try again. I think I walked in so many circles that my 6.5 km by road signs is not accurate or at least I like to tell myself that.

Now I am back in Gdansk and so I go to the train station...again with the unfriendly Polish...so I am back to trying to figure this out on my own. Although directions aren't my stong point, I can usually figure out machines...there was a machine to buy your ticket to Sopot (the beach). Fine, I'll go to the touristy, resorty town where people speak English. Bought the ticket in less than 2 minutes and in less than 30 minutes I was in Sopot. Done and done. I feel accomplished for getting there, but not satisfied because I wanted to get there by foot.

The beach is beautiful and there is a 512 m long wooden pier (the longest wooden pier in Europe). I think you were supposed to pay to walk along it, but I just gave the "I'm confused and you're not speaking English look" and they eventually let me go because they didn't want to have to deal with my incompetence any longer. Love how that works. I hung out on the beach for a while, walked along the pier and the famous street of (I don't remember what it is called), but apparently paparazzi and famous polish people are commonly seen here. I wouldn't know the faces so I didn't see anyone famous.

Oh and the night before, one of the street performers was this man who sang opera in the highest pitch voice I have ever heard...

Oh Europe...

2008-07-25T00:59:00.001-07:00

The whole time in Europe...Erica and I never really knew what would come next. I can honestly say that throughout my entire trip, I never knew which town/city/even country I'd be in the next day. We left the place we were staying in Istanbul with our bags all packed...in my mind we were on our way to take an overnight train to Bulgaria...boy was I mistaken. Turns out we spent another night in Istanbul and flew to Prague the next day. Prague was never on our agenda...similar things happened throughout the trip so we had to lug our bags around at unnecessary times like here when we were in Ceske Krumlov, we were thinking Vienna to Budapest...nah, back to Prague we went. Here is a picture of Erica in Ceske Krumlov in the rainy weather with her bag that is almost bigger than her.

The whole time in Europe...there were statues everywhere. America really dropped the bomb on that one...the statues bring history, artisticness to the country. Some of them were really funny and brightened your day. Here are two that we saw.

The whole time in Europe...people's unwillingness to speak English. We had been told and kind of already knew that everyone learns English in school so everyone knows at least a little bit. Some people seemed so disgusted that we didn't speak their language or any other European language that they just flat out refused to speak English. It seems fair that they would be annoyed that we come to their country and then expect them to speak the language of our country, but if you are going to be working in a touristy town or in public transportation, come on...english is the language of travel. Here is picture of Erica trying to forcefully break that language barrier with the train attendent.

The whole time in Europe...pigeons were in every major city. Here is Erica playing with them.

This one time when I was in Europe...

2008-07-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

This one time in Europe...I rode the trams and buses basically for free since no one is around to check if you have a ticket or not. Every once in a while Erica and I would pick up a ticket just because they were around $1 each and the fine was 500-1000 Euros (so the book claimed). NOT worth it. While we were in Budapest on our way back to our hostel from the Hungarian baths, we took the underground metro and decided to bypass the buying a ticket stage. Our stop was Deak Ferenc Ter. Let me quote my travel book here, "...while it may seem easy just to jump on for the ride without paying, be careful...inspectors in red armbands prowl the Deak Ferenc Ter metro stop in particular, and are especially likely to stop tourists." Are we stupid, or what? Yes, the inspectors in red armbands were there. So we dodged them in a very strategic manner. Woah, close. Little did I know this is a multi-tram stop so there were more. My heart starts racing again and Erica is saying 'Well, if we get a ticket, we just don't pay it and leave the country...' What am I supposed to say to that? We head back down stairs since the inspectors won't check tickets on the way down or so we hope (my heart is beating so hard I think I'm going to have a heart attack). We get to the same metro we were at before and ride it to the next stop hoping and praying that there won't be inspectors at this one. Sometimes they wait at the top of the escalator so my heart is thumping all the way up...yaya we get outside with no ticket. I survive with no heart attack!

This one time in Europe...I had the map. Now, to anyone who knows me semi-well, you'd know this means getting lost, walking in circles, etc. That is exactly what we do. At times we walk so far before Erica looks at the map that we have to ask for directions. Here is a picture of erica attempting to break the language barrier and ask for directions from a cab driver in the middle of Pest...

This one time in Europe...I bathed. So my general body hygiene upkeep has been at an all time high the whole time I've been here. Amazingly enough I can't rub dirt off me. This never happens. So towards the beginning of our trip Erica (she is not one to brag about personal hygiene either) says, "Should we shower today?" and my immediate response was, "Didn't we just do that yesterday?" As if even the thought of showering two days in a row is unheard of. She agreed and we didn't shower.

This one time in Europe...I sat down to have a meal with Erica on the Bosphorus river on a rooftop restaurant. We were having a lovely conversation when a man sat down at our table and started bragging about how much money he had. Of course, I am gullable and believe any story told to me, so he is going on and on about all his wonderful, expensive travels and I am inthralled. Next thing I know, he turns out to be a little cookoo. Fine. He gets up and another guy sits down claiming to be the owner of the restaurant. His friend/employee sits down and starts hitting on Erica. This guy was creepy, both were. But the guy (the one who claims to own the restaurant) asks me if Erica is wild and I sarcastically go along with it. Then he asks if she is permiscuious (sp?) and I immediately shut him down and am disgusted. CREEPY TURKISH MEN. They were everywhere. Erica immediately turns down their offer to go out on their yacht for the night...we pay for our dinner and get the hell out of there.

This one time in Europe...I forgot to pack my swimsuit. A turkish bath was on my agenda but I always assumed no one wore clothes. This does occasionally happened and it happened with Erica and I. Talk about awkward...I just kept my eyes close until the end. This is what the room looks like before the naked massage:

And this is sort of how it is when you are getting massaged. Of course these are not photos of me, but ones that I found off the internet...not only did I not have clothes on, but also no camera.

This one time in Europe...Erica and I wanted to explore the circular thing at the Hungarian bath. So we make our way over to it, little did we know there was such a strong current. How those children got in and out of that thing is beyond me since Erica couldn't get in, I had to pull her has she rammed her body into the wall then we both couldn't get out...

An optomistic post!

2008-07-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

I was recently told that some of my entries aren't all that optimistic about living in Uganda. So I want to clarify that I do get frustrated at times, but for the most part I love living in Uganda. I have realized that more after going on vacation; I have been in Europe going on 3 weeks and I am very ready to go 'home.'

There are times when I get homesick for America when I am in Uganda, but I never thought that I would be aching to get back to my home in Kayunga. I miss the people and their flexibility with time. I miss their constant willingness to help. I miss the people's constant urge to be your friend (Ugandans and tourists alike). I miss my friends and most of all, Joseph. I hadn't realized how much of a life I have formed for myself there. A routine, I enjoy waking up in my little 2 room, concrete house every morning, sitting on the porch listening the the pupils come to school. I hate to admit it, but going to bed without a mosquito net even feels odd, not cooking on a charcoal stove...the list goes on about the things I have grown so accostomed to. By no means am I saying that I want to move back there and stay there. I will go back for my 10 months and then move on. Of course I will miss it, especially if I already miss it after 3 weeks, but I will move on and remember the good things.

I think this goes for everyone...when you have something it is so easy to focus and complain about the things that frustrate you because those things stand out, but until you are away from your 'normal' life long enough you don't realize all the good things. To say that I was getting frustrated is an understatement, I needed a break. Now I have had my break and I am ready to go back, work on my library and my computer class. Possibly continue the reproductive health classes and start teaching english class at my center school. A little change is good for everyone.

Warsaw

2008-07-22T12:36:00.000-07:00

This is where a sad story comes. Erica has a job interview and so she wanted to fly out early. We had agreed that we were ready to go back, but I didn't know for sure if I could change my flight. Arriving to the airport, the KLM attendent was sure to let me know it would not be possible to make any changes in my flight, even for a small fee. Unfortunately Erica had already made the changes to her flight, paying money to change it. So Erica and I parted ways on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning I headed to the Baltic Coast. That is where I am now...in a town called Gdansk. Today I spent the day walking around listening to more street performances and tomorrow I will walk the 10 km to Sopot to sit on the beach for the day.

I guess I didn't say much about Warsaw...we walked around Tuesday night after the disappointing airport visit...but I was a little bitter about being left alone for 5 days that I wasn't really paying attention to where we were going...although we did see a lot of the city and it was way nicer than we anticipated. Here is a picture of people ballroom dancing or something in one of the squares. Notice how the houses in the background don't look real...they were. It is a playful big town.

And now, like I said, I am in Gdansk. Here was my dinner:

A pirate ship or something in the Motlawa river on the way to the Baltic Sea:

The rain gutters or whatever they are called, there were a billion of them all along this street:

And last for today, one of the street performances...break dancers:

Krakow festivals mixed with Auschwitz

2008-07-19T12:19:00.000-07:00

Poland is a country full of festivities and excitement, but along with all the fun we had here there was also the visit to Auschwitz and the reminder of what an awful world we live in.

First, let's talk about the food. Not sure if this picture sums it up for you:

We shared that plate and usually I can finish anything (well ever since i stopped being so picky about food) and I ended up spitting some meat out in my napkin. Both of us got sick the next morning. So we decided to take a short break from Polish food. We spent most of that night watching street performances. Oh yea, we are in Krakow now. The street performances ranged from marionets performing Michael Jackson to fire throwers to huge stage concerts, all happening in Old Town Square (Rynek Glowny), the largest market square in Europe (fun fact).

The next morning we left for Auschwitz. I don't think there is anyway I can explain it in words and I don't think Auschwitz itself needs explaining, we all know. All I can say is that I was on the verge of tears the entire day.

We spent the rest of the day exploring the city a little more, seeing the sights.

The next day was the salt mines! Erica didn't find these as worth while as I did, but we both still enjoyed it. We went 135 m below the ground to see sculptures and carvings that were created by miners and artists. The tour took us through underground lakes, sculptures, altars, chandaliers made with pure salt rock and religious relics all carved from salt. And it is claimed that the air is theraputic down there, cures asthma and stuff. It was impressive, but I didn't take any pictures, I was getting tired of my camera by this point. Maybe I will get some pictures from Erica?!

Hungary and Wine

2008-07-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

Eger and the Valley of the Beautiful Women. I will leave this one for Erica to write because it was our favorite place...and the most romantic place. We really bonded here over wine.

I love Budapest!

2008-07-15T11:38:00.000-07:00

Prague was cool, but there wasn't quite as much to see as there was in Budapest. And I think the bad weather in Prague put a damper on my opinion of the city. The weather in Budapest was beautiful. We got in pretty late the first night so our only goal was to find a hostel and get some dinner. After wandering around for what felt like forever, we found a really cute hostel and we ended up with our own room. Dinner was interesting. We decided to save some money and get food at the grocery store...so we made sandwiches, ate yogurt and drank wine out of our yogurt containers. Seems logical.

The next morning, we woke up and toured the city. We went up on castle hill, over to Margit Island, saw Parliment and to the big market. Back and forth between Buda and Pest, over the Danube and back.

Castle Hill was another castle but it was a very big one with museums on top. Not sure how much you want to hear about this castle, but it has been rebuilt three times over the past 800 years...damn WWII. Within this castle district is a big church (Matthias Church) and labyrinths that were created naturally by thermal springs. Here is a bird on a leash up on castle hill.

Next we passed parliment and continued on to the grand market. This market was filled with produce, meat products, dolies, souvenirs, everything. Here is a picture of what I bought, which I am sure will come as no surprise to anyone that knows me well.

So you can't go to Budapest and not go to Margit Island. It is in the middle of the Danube and you can get there from half way down one of the bridges...you walk onto the island and it doesn't even feel like you are in the city any longer. There are no private vehicles, just a few public buses that run people in and out of the island. It's adorable. There is this fountain that dances to music just like the one in Las Vegas at the bellagio, but on Margit Island there is chance that you will find a man in a speedo. We sat there watching this man for a little while, I thought he was going to go swimming in the fountain...turns out he was just sun bathing. I got a picture of him to share.

Last for the day, we walked up Citadella Hill. Here is Buda, where you can see the castle district:

And here is Pest with Parliment and we stayed on this side...and of course the Danube in the middle. Also, follow the danube up the river just past the second bridge and there is a foresty part...that is Margit Island.

And Erica made a new friend on our first day...

The following today, we headed a little bit outside the main city center to go caving. Now we have mentally prepared ourselves for some serious spelunking and I am all worried about only bringing my sandals...come to find out, the cave has been completely filled in with concrete steps and everything. Don't get me wrong, it was still cool to see, but a little disappointing that we didn't have to work for it. These caves are about 10 degrees Celcius and they were originally formed by the thermal springs that now source the baths in the city. So what is the next logical step for the day...go to the thermal baths!!! The bath that we went to happened to be located in city park right next to Hero's square so we saw it all. The bath we went to was called Szechenyi. It has floating chess boards in the outdoor pool and then inside are the hot baths. Here is a picture of one side of the outdoor pool from the top. PS I forgot to bring my swimsuit so I was the only one wearing a sports bra and underwear. Embarassing. Although not too embarassing to not go.

On to the Czech Republic

2008-07-13T11:06:00.000-07:00

After leaving Hayley in Turkey, Erica and I flew to Prague. We had a hard time trying to find a way out of Istanbul because Bulgaria and Romania were taken off the agenda for travel so the easiest way out was to fly. Unfortunately, we came into bad weather...raining the entire time we were there.

Because Erica had already been to Prague and the rain in the city, we thought it best to take a day trip out and then tour a little bit when we got back. Off to Karlstejn we went. Karlstejn is a cute, little town with a castle on top of a long hill. During the climb, there are lots of touristy shops to buy random medieval souvenirs and gifts along with people creating jewelry from metal and horse and carriage. There was even a guy all decked out in medieval armor encouraging tourists to give him money to hold his falcon (yes, it was a real bird)...

Once we got to the top of the hill, the castle (built by Emperor Charles IV) was just as your could imagine. Gorgeous view from the top, but once you've seen one castle, you've seen them all. ALTHOUGH it is still exciting to see everyone and if you are in a town, you can hardly pass up going to see, at least I can't.

Here is Erica on the walk up the hill and the castle is up there just as you can see.

And a picture of part of the castle, Statni Hrad I think it was called.

We came back to Praha (Prague) as it's called. We did the touristy thing of walking around to see all the sights. I am sure any picture you find online of Prague will be better than the ones I took so I will just put one up of Erica and I on the Charles Bridge (or one of the bridges, there were millions of them).

The next day, again, we went on a day trip out of Prague to a town in South Bohemia called Cesky Krumlov. Again, the rain wouldn't leave us alone so although this town is known for it's outdoor activities, we did not get to partake in any of the kayaking, canoeing or hiking...sad. BUT we did get to see the grizzly bears!

They were used to protect the Zomek castle, home to Bohemian and Bavarian noble families and they are still there. They are down in a moat though with a bridge over the moat, so I think their protecting days are over. Besides the castle, the town was very quiant.

We headed back to Prague to get ready to head to BUDA BUDA BUDAPEST the next day!

ISTANBUL

2008-07-07T11:04:00.000-07:00

Vacation time! On July 7th, I left Uganda for Turkey to meet up with Hayley and Erica. I am hoping that Hayley will write about Turkey, so I will leave it for now.

all work, no fun

2008-07-04T03:03:00.000-07:00

Hey hey! So it seems I have left my blog to my visitors, but now that my busy month of May visitors is over, I guess I should resume writing.

The month of May was visitor central. The month of June has been work, work, work. So let me tell you about it:

LITERACY:

“Free Reading” So far I have given 2 schools books to try using them in a ‘free reading’ method that a friend Brett came to teach to them. Even the simplest teaching techniques that we all grew up with can be difficult to master if it is your first time seeing it. So this session on free reading lasted a few hours…the concept ‘let the children read for fun.’ I am still waiting to see the teachers using the books, but they claim they have to stamp each one so the pupils don’t steal them.

“The Library” I am hoping to receive many more books through Briana’s fundraiser (they spent a lot of time last semester collecting books and fundraising for shipping costs, an unbelievable amount of books and money was collected!!!!) In August, I am expecting to have all the books brought from Kampala to Kayunga, shelves built and the process of setting up the library started. Using the library may not start until next term since I want to get all the books stamped and a system set up for ‘checking out’ books. As for sustainability of the project, (since I was a bit worried getting this set up just 2 terms before I leave) a JICA (Japanese Peace Corps) Volunteer moved into the other side of my house and is gung-ho about the library and will watch over it after I leave.

“Guided Reading” I recently received 2 boxes of books, each box containing the same book so there are multiply copies of the same book!!!! Because the teachers are not even familiar with free reading, I will take over a few english classes next term to be an example of how to teach guided reading. I am hoping that I will also be able to start book reports and maybe even book wars…we’ll see when the next term starts.

“Pen pal letters” Briana’s Spanish class not only did fundraisers for books, but also wanted to get the primary children involved so a woman named Abby suggested trying pen pal letters. We have sent them back and forth between Africa and America a few times and every time the pupils here are so happy they are almost in tears. While my father was here, we took a video of the handing back of the letters to the pupils and it was posted online at http://www.teachertube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=241bd62b01c442312eb5
Although we are still trying to perfect the letter sending back and forth process, it is still going on. In the last batch of letters I sent back with my brother, the children had been told their replies were coming and so they prepared some small gifts for their pen friends. Little dolls made out of banana fibers and things like that. Adorable!

COMPUTER TRAINING:

“Ssezibwa” Three teachers at Ssezibwa primary school have gone through the full computer training and taught the computer to other teachers for a full term so I thought the next step was for them to start a program at their own school. I loaned them one of the laptops my mom brought over and from what I hear the program is running well. I vowed not to bother them in the first few months they are doing their program just to see how it will run when I am not around at all. I am going to check on their program tomorrow…

“Bishop Brown” This is my center school. The program is still going on well although time is always an issue. I have again this term kicked out 3 teachers based on absenteeism. I may never understand why they don’t show up, teachers voluntarily sign up for this program and then don’t come?! Whatever. Recently though I have received 2 new laptops, one working and the other just needs a little lovin’ from Mr. Ryan Jones, my PCV computer-god friend. The new laptops multiply the number of teachers that can learn each term, which is always exciting.

Hopefully soon I will have this program running on it’s own…

REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH:

It has been an interesting and surprisingly satisfying program (exhausting though). The program ran just like you are probably imagining it…we had on average 100 girls in each session (we did this at 9 schools) and presented on very basic information, such as general anatomy, puberty, menstruation, pregnancy, hygiene, STD’s and HIV/AIDS. I can only speak for the girls side because we invited PCV guys to talk to the male pupils, but the girls don’t ever get a chance to get this knowledge or ask questions. So we provided all of the above and we got some pretty crazy questions.

Almost every class asked about ‘visiting the bush.’ It is this cultural practice of taking girls to the village to show them how to elongate their labias. Odd, I know, but they are told that they can never produce and men will never love them if they don’t do it.

Other questions were fun, but pretty general. By the end of the sessions, we were singing songs about changes that happen during puberty, such as breasts, hips, butt and hair, butt and hair to the head shoulders knees and toes theme. And we also made human female reproductive systems. All was very fun!

And now that work is going on well, it time for a VACATION!!!!! This will be my first time off the continent…and the destination is EASTERN EUROPE with Hayley and Erica. Not sure if you can feel my excitement, but I am stoked!

PS All pictures I have for this blog are not accessible right now so I will post them when I come back from Europe in 3 weeks!

Kellan's African Experience

2008-06-15T10:34:00.000-07:00

After returning from Africa I was asked the same question many times, "So How Was Africa?" This is a difficult question to answer in a short period of time. Of course I usually just say "it was good" or "i had a great time" but the truth is that this trip has really been a completely new experience for me. I started off my trip on somewhat of a bad note seeing as my sister was 1 hour late to pick me up at the airport. At first I was a little upset but I had agreed on the phone that I would wait maximum of 1 hour and a half before I got angry so I guess it was ok. After I rode the transportation that Uganda has to offer I soon realized how she could have been late. We then arrived in Kampala, the capitol city, where there is a limitless amount of people everywhere and everything from a Sheritan hotel to random goats walking by grazing. The method of transportation that we took were the taxi's. These are no ordinary taxi's they are more along the lines of minivans which don't leave anywhere until full so you have to wait for them to fill up before you leave. After leaving Kampala my sister and I went back to her site, Kayunga. I was exhausted and quickly fell asleep for roughly 30 hours of much needed sleep. After doing a couple things around Amy's town we left to go on our safari. When we arrived it took no time to start seeing exotic animals such as baboons sitting on the side of the road or tropical birds flying overhead, and this was before we even got into the park. Once inside we went deep into the jungle chimpanzee trekking which in my eyes was an experience of a lifetime. It was an incredible specticle that you would think to only witness on a National Geographic or Planet Earth kind of show.(but in person everything is spectacular) After seeing the chimps chase each other around a tree and land all around us for roughly 20 minutes we went on a wild game drive where we saw everything from giraffe's to water buffalo, the only animals that we missed were the lions but they are only out in the morning and that was the time we went chimp trekking so I thought it was a worthwile trade. Later on we finished an already incredible day with a boat ride down the Nile in which we could see crocodiles and hippos everywhere.
The next monumental activity was whitewater rafting.(and for anyone that might be planning on going to Uganda I truly recommend doing this) We started out by getting ready with lots of suntan lotion, tight fitting life jackets, and suprisingly comfortable helmets. Once we arrived to the spot where we were starting, Brett (one of amy's peace corps friends who was traveling with us), James(Brett's friend who also was visiting) and I chose our raft, obviously the one with the youngest kids so we could attempt the most difficult rapids. We started on the river just going over class 3 rapids which for those who dont know rapids are rated on a scale of 1-5 (at least the ones that rafts are able to go over) 1 being the weakest and 5 being pretty extreme. During the beginning rapids we were taught all of the safety procedures such as how to float down when falling out of the raft and so on. Once we reached our first class 5 rapid we were all pretty excited to test out how good of raft navigators we were. Obviously we bit off a little more than we could chew since after the first wave we flipped our raft sending all of us whipping down a fast moving current. The undertow pulled me under for a while but eventually when I had no clue on which way was the surface of water sure enough i popped up and bobbed there for a while before a kayaker came to help me get to my raft again. This then happened again at the next 2 class 5's and just when i was thinking that we would never make it through a rapid without flipping we got to another class 5 in which there is a waterfall you have to jump with your raft. The waterfall was about 6 1/2 feet tall and quite terrifying. We did everything correctly and literally jumped off the waterfalls edge and landed safely at the bottom. After that there were a few more times we flipped but for the most part we stayed dry. This was my second time rafting in my life and I will always remember how we went whitewater rafting on the nile.
The last experience that I found to be amazing was the Uganda national soccer match. Amy and I decided that if we were going we had to do it right so we went before the game and bought some Ugandan Gear and got all decked out in Uganda's colors to show our support. We arrived at the stadium early to help organize since we had invited a few other Peace Corps voulenteers to join us. While we were sitting outside the gates waiting to meet up with the others we noticed a television crew focusing in on Amy and me. We at first thought nothing of it but they kept moving closer so Amy finally asked them if they were filming us. To our surprise the man with a camera said "not yet" both Amy and I found this funny but did not care very much. Soon after they came up and asked if they could interview us about the game and sure enough Amy and I have now both been on Ugandan national television. After that we entered the game to watch an incredible 90 minutes between Uganda and Niger.(Uganda won 1-0) After this we had the depressing end to my incredible journey to Africa. I said my goodbyes and went to a taxi taking me to the airport and returned home taking with me memories that would last me a lifetime.
Kellan

A learning experience-Amy's Dad. Africa Trip

2008-05-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

Amazing! Amazing! Amazing!!! Someone asked me what I brought away most from this trip to Uganda. Unfortunately I couldn't come up with just one. So these are my top 5 in no particular order. 1) The thirst for knowledge that people from Uganda have especially as experienced with children. Examples are when 4-5 children are reading 1 book for hours at a time asking constant questions about the book/America. They had a hard time with snow and I do believe they now think snow is their fog rolling of the hills. Amy has a concrete slab 4 feet by 6 feet where children would come to read books that Amy would distribute. In that area 10-12 children would read to each other and ask questions. 2) The work ethic as is most noted with Ugandan farmers. The women especially since they plow the fields on steep hills with a hand held hoe. Daily functions such as getting water requires walking, meals take longer to prepare and still the children are clean with big smiles on their face. To watch a man ride a pedal bicycle up/down hills with his wares is amazing. This is done for miles to bring to the market. An example is bananas 4' by 3' strapped to his bicycle. 3) Of course, seeing my daughter after more than a year was special. To further enhance my viewpoint that she has qualities that are unbelievable made my trip back to the U.S. much easier. 4) The respect that is given to elders is noted throughout the family structure. Children are respectful of adults and grandparents are held often in high esteem. 5) The lack of medical care was evident as I toured a local hospital. It made me proud to see a new HIV addition to the hospital made by Americans. At the same time it was sad to see so many people have to use it. When I walked in there was approximately 100 individuals in the waiting room. 6) As a physical therapist it was noted that upright postures were the norm with children as well as adults possibly due to the inc. activity needed for daily functions. Children/adults would climb hills (I called them mountains) with relative ease. An example would be while I was there we climbed an 8,130' hill. A child politely asked my daughter if I was her grandpa. I then sped up only to graciously later have these children help me along. With one child on each hand and 1 pushing from behind I made it up the hill. One particular child will always be special to me during that climb. 7) Right up on the top of my list is to see the children have a special day when their penpal letters came from the USA. The feeling that I got as a father knowing that my 2 daughters were working together as a team to make so many children happy. My other daughter is a teacher in the Minneapolis area. 8) The outpouring of support is amazing. Family members, their friends, high school students, churches, elementary classes to name a few. Amy's Dad I could have gone on and on but as you see how could it be limited to 1 or 2. It is already past 5.
Labels: Africa trip

My fear of Ugandan hospitals

2008-05-18T01:55:00.000-07:00

Tis the season to be sick. I think since the rainy season (also mosquito breeding season) just ended, malaria has been disturbing everyone. But most recently a friend of mine at the youth center fainted. They took him to the hospital and he was immediately diagnosed with cerebral malaria. His symptoms: a headache and he was confused. Didn’t have a fever. He was only seen by a nurse (probably for less than 5 minutes) and given treatment which consisted of rest and an IV of dextrose laced with something. No blood tests were done and the only follow up that was apparent was the changing of the IV bag. He went through 4 IV bags, regained clarity and was released from the hospital.

Another story about my closest neighbor (a teacher at my school) in proximity: His wife was pregnant and due within the week so they wanted to get everything settled so it would go smoothly. They talked to the doctor and there was an advance payment needed (Ugandan government hospitals claim to be free of charge). The doctor was paid. When the time came to deliver the baby, the doctor was no where to be found. After hours and hours of searching, he was found, but it was too late to deliver the baby vaginally. She needed a caesarian, but they have to do that in the theatre. The theatre was locked so the doctor told the teacher he needed to find the keys to the room. Professional, I know. By the time the keys were found and the caesarian section was done, the baby died. No death certificate is issued in these cases for fear of the parents pressing charges so the hospital refuses.

I hope nothing that I would need medical assistance for happens at all, but if it has to happen, let me hope that it happens in Kampala. Not so I can go to a hospital there, but so I can be medevaced to south africa.

It doesn’t seem fair that I always have that option…to be sent somewhere else for treatment. Tons of Ugandans fear the hospital (for good reason), but they can't go anywhere else but a witch doctor…so many do, I probably would too if I didn’t have other options.

Oh and today Katherine and I saw the ambulance. Normally this vehicle is not seen because the hospital cannot afford fuel, but today we saw it moving someone out of their house. No emergency. The longer I live here, the more confused I become about this culture.

pictures of mom and house

2008-05-09T01:59:00.001-07:00

And as I was flipping through pictures of my dad’s visit, I found some from my mom’s. Here is a picture of her pointing out hippos to me. And another of the hippos we saw.

Birds in my house.

My dad’s visit

2008-05-09T01:33:00.000-07:00

I am hoping my father will write about our trip, but there are a few times when his camera was dead so I wanted to post some pictures. One is of the chimps when we went down into a gorge to go chimp trekking. The next is him hanging out with the kids while a friend chisels at a chair. Another, him chiseling a chair. A V.I.P seat on the bus special for ‘muzungu mzee’ (respected white man), while everyone else stood up in the aisle…eventually enough people got off and we all got seats (that’s when I took the picture). And him being the playful guy we all know him as!

New news…came home to my house to find a dead bird in my bathing room. Though this stuff doesn’t surprise me any more, I still don’t want to touch it so I got a kid to come in and take it away. Then I wake up the next morning to feathers all over my house but more so in a corner of my bedroom with a dead cockroach next to them. Not sure what happened and not sure how I could sleep through such a fiasco. All day today I have been cleaning my house and listening to the baby birds who I assume recently hatched on the ceiling of my neighbor. I finally get rid of these mice and now I have birds (bats are still around, just in a different corner of the room). There are poisons for all different sorts of animals, but I don’t think I can bring myself to start killing birds although I don’t know how much bird poop I can handle on my floor. At least the birds don’t dive bomb my head like the bats.

Onto work…teachers tend to get unreasonably lazy during school breaks so my computer class only runs when I find the teacher and act as a reminder to come to class. My second round of teachers is almost through and the next step is having these teachers set up programs at their own schools. Two of the schools that will run the program have desktop computers and one school will have to borrow a laptop. I think I will again run the program at my center school and hopefully the ones that have learned from Bishop Brown will be the teachers this time.

Literacy. Since the schools are on break, I am not monitoring any English classes although I am making runs to and from Kampala picking up books. I am getting packages of books from people I never expected or imagined I would get them from. It is all very exciting. Also, I still have children coming to my door daily asking for books. Even children who haven’t started learning English in school yet have learned the phrase ‘please give me a book’ and then they just look at the pictures. I love that these children are so anxious to read, but I want to get this library set up so they stop coming to my door. Not only books, but also the puzzles have been a big hit. Only the 6th graders who come around really understand how to put them together, but I think once they get the hang of it, they’ll all get it.

Last, most of the 2nd year PCV’s are flying home so our group has officially moved on to be called 2nd years. One more year baby!

Kellan comes in a week! It’s party time…

link to my You-Tube video on literacy

2008-04-19T00:29:00.000-07:00

Shawn and Briana helped finalize my video and got it posted on You-Tube. Here is the URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBcSIvIGbCk

update

2008-04-10T05:45:00.000-07:00

Since I know everyone is dying to know the outcome of my mouse situation…I think the last day with the poisoned food platter worked. I came back home from Joe’s house and I didn’t hear the patter patter of the mice feet…although I was exhausted and feel asleep early. I will listen intently tonight.

Best thing to happen in awhile: A friend in Tororo put movies and t.v. series on my ipod. So one night Joe and I made popcorn on the charcoal stove (something he has perfected over the last few months), sat in his house and watched a movie. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I have seen few movies since I left and they have always been very special occasions…I am now getting back to the casual life of t.v. It is a small screen and a limited choice, but I do not care one bit…I am so happy to have something to do alone in my house other than read by flashlight. Thought I could do without the conveniences of home, but I think I've gone long enough.

Other than that, I recently started teaching computer sessions at the youth center in Kayunga, have continued with the sessions after school for the teachers, and am still working with a few teachers at one school on using story books in the classroom. Work that is coming up: after the current teachers end their computer sessions, I will set up computer programs at specific schools so the trained teachers can train others in the area…this is to try and phase me out of the program completely. I will start teaching reproductive health at various schools with the help of a few other pcv’s. It is amazing how much false and lack of information gets distributed here. Many girls have no idea what a period is before they get it and then they think they are dying.

Excitement coming up: my father comes in a few days. I am planning a trip in July to see Erica and Hayley and get off of this continent for a little while.

I know I complain about time management a lot, but on the optimistic side of Ugandan’s lack of ability to show up on time, I get all my email replies and blog entries written. So I guess some good does come out of it. Although…no good for the country’s progression.

2008-04-05T08:21:00.000-07:00

02 April 2008

Visitors: Mice

When: Every night

Where: Throughout my house

The Problem: I’m currently petrified of them and they are eating my food (bananas, tomatoes, etc.). The woman living on the other half of my house has a ceiling (I don’t) so they live on her ceiling and then come down into my house…hardly fair.

Strategy for killing them:

Day One – Run to my bed as soon as I hear one scamper across the floor out of fear (this was my first strategy for cockroaches too) and then remain in my bed until morning…at times I run to my bed at 7:30 pm…boring night let me tell you! This could be considered a strategy because while in bed I hope and pray that they will go away. No surprise…it doesn’t work.

Day Two – Invite my counterpart , Wasike, over to inspect my house. He can’t find them and thinks I’m going crazy hearing things…and already thinks I’m a little crazy for being scared of these little guys. Failure.

Day Three – I go to Kampala and buy 2 mouse traps. Progress is being made, I can feel it. My friend, Brett, comes to my house to help me set up the mouse traps and to discard of the dead mice in the morning. We put banana on the part where food should go since they seem to like it. And just to be on the safe side, a friend in town gave me some poison and so we put it on bananas and place them in favorite hot spots for the mice. Then lay in bed listening to their little feet running all around waiting for the ‘snap’ of the mouse trap…we fall asleep. Wake up in the morning with extreme anticipation to see a dead mouse and feel the satisfaction of accomplishing our task. Little shits got the banana off the mouse trap without setting it off. Although they did eat the poisoned bananas, but didn’t die. Huge disappointment because now Brett has to return to site and I’m back to dealing with this problem on my own.

Day Four – Round two of mouse traps and poisoned bananas since I don’t have many other ideas. They are learning too…they didn’t eat the poisoned bananas this time, but they are still alive and startling me. Failed.

Day Five – I start questioning my teachers for how they kill mice. Everyone keeps saying indocin capsules…a drug from the pharmacy. I’ll try anything at this point. Indocin bought. Bananas drugged. The trick though…if they eat the indocin, they cant drink water after…so I have to make sure they cant get out of my house and they cant find water in my house. Urgh, this is turning into a lot of work. Failed…seems as though the mice are fasting.

Day Six – Now the teachers are saying ‘use different food, switch it up.’ That is today so I will go to the market so I can put out a food platter for them (smashed bananas, cut up tomatoes, small fish, crushed nuts, etc)…it is starting to feel like I spend more time preparing food for them than I do for myself.

I will let you know how the story ends when it finally does end…I just hope they don’t defeat me…right now it is 5 – 0, mice are winning.

03 April 2008

Day Seven – On the menu for last night was smashed poisoned bananas, a fish filled mouse trap, a banana filled mouse trap, drugged little fish and drugged, cubed tomatoes. They ate, but did they die? No, failed.

Day Eight – Taking a short breather to go visit Joseph; it will give me some time to get my head straight and think of some other killing methods. Maybe I will start building my own mouse trap…I’ve played that board game ‘mouse trap’ or whatever it’s called…who would’ve known I was preparing myself for this.

By the time this story does end you will probably be sick of hearing about it, but for right now these mice are consuming my mind and my time so it’s what I have to write about.

AN ENTRY ON WORK

2008-03-26T22:37:00.000-07:00

Work is going well. I currently have books from the Wilson family and the ones my mother brought and so today I invited two teachers to sort through and pick out books for their class. Mackensie has given me ideas on how to teach primary level reading and so we are going to start by trying that. The teachers are pretty confident in their teaching skills so I am hoping that all will go on smoothly and I won't have to teach to be the example. We will find out tomorrow; I will supervise them all week And then next week, we will meet again to make more improvements…when all is working well, I will have these two teachers train some others on how to teach literacy. And as more books come in, I will train more teachers.

So every once in awhile I have doubts on why I am here, what I am doing, etc. But today a bunch of P6 and P7 (6th and 7th graders) got up the guts and came to my house to ask to read. I laid out a mat and they read book after book on my mat. After each book, we went through the story together…they were so excited to read. It is amazing how much these students are thirsty for education but can only get so much from the teachers and the way they teach. And I hate to discredit the teachers, but they only know so much…I supervise constantly and am consistently correcting facts they are spouting out. They were taught wrong information and in return sometimes also teach the wrong information because of lack of resources.

Right now I am in the office with one boy who has been sifting through books for about 3 hours and 2 teachers who are reading and completely entertained by the stories and facts in some books. The boy was reading ‘The night before Christmas’ and couldn’t get over the flying reindeer (although I had to tell him it wasn’t true) and then a bunch of boys were reading and they asked about snow. I got out the snow globe the Bilsky’s sent over and they were all in awe. I don’t think any of the children here quite understand the concept of snow yet, but they sure are amazed by the pictures in books. After I showed them the snow globe, they started asking questions about my home so I got to share with them about the coldness of Wisconsin. Sometimes I think these children can be so naughty, but most are just curious and bored. When I give one a book, he is completely consumed in it.

Children keep coming to the door to get a look at the books. Eeek, can you imagine American children getting so excited about reading?! Yay this will be fun to work with the teachers to implement. To give you a play by play…someone sent an alphabet book where each letter you pull something or unfold something and an animal beginning with the letter pops out…all I can hear is laughter from these teachers. Hilarious! They are not used to seeing games or toys. This is fun! And I haven’t seen a lot of these children’s stories since I was a babysitter reading them to children. There is a huge book of Christmas stories that I think I will read out loud to different classrooms around Christmas time.

I thought I'd include my favorite picture of my mom on a cockroach hunt with my new head lamp and fly swatter courtesy of the Lange family! I think the cockroaches are scared of my new weapons.

And about computer training…it is good, but I posted a letter with the sign up sheet for classes; the letter clearly stated that if you fail to show up, you will be eliminated from the list and won't be allowed back until the next term. You would think since they are voluntarily signing up, they would show up every class…oh no, I have already crossed off about 5 names from the list. Ugandans have an endless list of excuses…drives me crazy. And when they do show up, heaven forbid they show up on time. Time management is the biggest frustration I have here…no one respects one another’s time. But other than the time thing, the computer classes are going on well. Three teachers from Ssezibwa who I trained in the first round are teaching this round. It is nice to just go and read while they teach, listening in to make corrections where necessary and help when they get stuck. This new group just finished learning the keyboard with a typing program I have and is now moving onto Microsoft Word.

Other than my programs, I have been cooking with Katherine lately. Well more like experimenting. It is amazing how much variety we have in America. Here they eat the same exact thing for lunch, dinner and sometimes breakfast. I can't do it. So Katherine and I tried pumpkin soup (delicious), mashed potatoes (also delicious), corn bread (doughy and not so good, but different so we ate it)…who knows what we’ll try next. Only so much you can make here. New into the market is green beans and cucumbers…they’re spicing it up over here! It sounds like a joke, but I'm super pumped about the green beans.

Beyond food, all I can think about is my father’s visit in April, my brother’s visit in May and my vacation in July. It is going to be a fun couple of months…thank goodness because Uganda wears me down sometimes.

diarrhea

2008-03-21T06:58:00.001-07:00

I know I already once wrote an entry about diarrhea but I don’t think anyone in America can fully understand what kind of panic a person goes through here when it hits you unexpectedly, like all diarrhea does.

I have a suspicion that I have had amoebas the entire year, never fully rectified the situation the first time therefore I have had a pretty consistent case of diarrhea. Unfortunate for me, but also incredibly unfortunate for the friends (and boyfriend) who have to hear about it regularly and help me find a toilet ‘now now’ every time the occasion presents itself.

In my previous diarrhea entry I mentioned a story about the Town Council that was one embarrassing moment, here are a few more since I know they are so fun to read about and unforgettable for me so I might as well write about them.

I have yet to write about my trip to Rwanda, but one day we were in the northwestern corner and decided to climb Mount Bisoke or Bisoke Mountain or Bisoke Volcano (I'm not sure which) and I, of course, was suffering the whole time from loose stool. So while we were ascending my friend Brett was going to assist me in finding an appropriate place to mark my territory and 2 of our guides carrying big rifle guns (our protection from Congolese rebels) wouldn’t allow us to go. It wasn’t one of those ‘now now’ situations, I think because my rear end muscles are very much toned after the previous 9 months of exercise. But it was definitely one of those ‘I'm gonna need to figure some system out fast’ and so we asked our head guide with some French name (Jean-Claude maybe) what the proper code of behavior is for this type of scenario while hiking. It seems that in a National Park, they have very specific guidelines…the hole has to be something like 8 ¾ in. deep. So when we got to the rest stop that Diane Fossey also rested at, I took it upon myself to request a hole. The porter went off, with his gun mind you, to dig my hole…heaven forbid I go dig it myself and get tired at 7 inches. All of a sudden, it hits me, my rear end muscles are tired and the ‘now now’ situation has crept up. I couldn’t care less how deep that hole is at this point and if he wouldn’t have moved out of my way, I can guarantee I would have just popped a squat any where. Done. Relieved. But now all I can think about is the next time it will hit me.

My scenario today, a common experience in my daily life: I went to visit a friend, he lives 20 kilometers north of me, but since the roads are bad the taxi takes about 30-90 minutes. Starting to get some stomach pains during the day, but thought they’d pass. Got up to Kayoonza that night, feeling I'll. Fine, he has a pit latrine, I can handle is for a night. Oh no, still sick in the morning. Now here is where the tricky part comes in. Planning the taxi ride home between bouts. The morning was a rough one, I couldn’t tell the difference between false alarms and real deals so I waited. Slowly getting more and more anxious to get home, so the game plan is to wait until the next big release and then bolt to the road to catch the next taxi. Waiting for the taxis to come…30 minutes later, quick bathroom run…30 more minutes and a taxi comes. Here is where I get so nervous that sometimes I sweat. What do I do if I have an emergency while on the taxi with 20 other people? You are never guaranteed a bathroom. This is the part where I love America; we have bathrooms everywhere and you know any store you go into, there will be one. Never fear. Oh no, not here…gotta go in the bush if it comes down to it. No exciting ending to this story…I survived the 45 minute taxi ride and was welcomed home by hail.

One day I was on a taxi and for long trips (2+ hours) they always stop for a bathroom break somewhere along the side of the road. On this particular day I had to go. For girls, they are always wearing skirts so there is never a problem of retaining privacy while peeing. Silly me, I was wearing jeans so my white booty was exposed to everyone and as if that is not enough…no one has seen a really white butt so I had an audience.

The point of this entry is to make sure that all Americans appreciate the abundance of bathrooms throughout the country.

PS I started this entry earlier today between runs to my hole in the ground and now it is night time and I just found out that I don’t have amoebas, the educated guess is Giardia (similar to amoebas). Shoot. So tomorrow I will visit the sketchy local pharmacy to get drugs…well looks sketchy but the drugs always seem to make me feel better…temporarily at least!

PSS I just got a phone call from my mom and Kellan just informed me he is coming to Uganda. I'm spoiled! Mom, Dad and now brother!

blog

2008-02-20T04:37:00.000-08:00

I haven’t written a blog in a while because I have spent most of my time in Kayunga, where not much exciting happens. I did leave once to go out east and experienced my first refugee camp. On the Kenyan border, there is a town called Malaba and just a couple kilometers from that is Tororo. Well, these two towns were getting so over crowded with Kenyan refugees that something had to be done to get them out of the main towns and into a more long-term temporary place. So off to Mulanda they were taken. Mulanda is a small village a few kilometers from Joseph’s village (Pajangango); so we decided to take a day and visit the camp. People appeared to be handling the situation well, and organizations definitely responded to the situation quickly, including the red cross, child advocacy and others. Tents were set up, registration appeared organized. Overall I was impressed with how un-chaotic it seemed to be and how generally happy the people were. I don’t have any pictures of the camp because it felt too rude to take them, but it was an interesting experience visiting this camp. I’m sure if you looked up Mulanda refugee camp online, some pictures would pop up…maybe?

From the refugee camp to a super bowl party. The super bowl here was aired at 2 am so we had all day to hang out, and learn new games (beer cricket being one of them). By the time the game finally came around, I was tired and didn’t even make it to half-time. Heard it was a huge disappointment, but the Packers (have to root for my dad’s team) weren’t in it so whoever won was of no interest to me.

Since that weekend, I have been in Kayunga, only taking day trips to Kampala to check email. Although there have been a few events here…I got my new roommate. Her name is Komiko Tamira. She is a JICA volunteer (Japanese version of Peace Corps) and she speaks very little English and no Luganda. Communication is a huge issue, mostly she just giggles at everything I say so far, but she seems to be learning quickly. Her assignment at this school is to work with the disabled children. Apparently we have a large population of disabled children at Bishop Brown, but I have lived here for a long time and have seen just a few. The school is getting extra money for them, so might as well keep claiming they are around…accountability and follow-up here is embarrassing.

My computer program has officially opened up to the second round of teachers for learning. By the end of the first training, three teachers proved themselves decent enough to teach the second group. Now I have lessons Monday through Thursday after school having the three trained teachers take turns in teaching, but mostly I am still doing the teaching. At least the project is off the ground. My ultimate goal is to have the training run without me completely so when I am gone, teachers will still get the opportunity to learn. Sorry if I am repeating myself from a previous blog, but my projects take up the bulk of my time.

My literacy program is also taking off. More and more people from home are contributing by sending books here. It is so fun for me to have people from home get involved! And I did make a video talking about both projects that I sent home and am also trying to post on U-tube, but don’t seem to have a fast enough connection anywhere in Uganda. Ill keep looking though.

Some exciting events: MY POPPA IS COMIN TO UGANDA APRIL 20^th! My one year benchmark is on March 5^th

One other thing I wanted to mention real quick; not sure if ive mentioned it before…loneliness. It amazes me at how lonely one can get when not surrounded by friends or family. Not to say I don’t have friends here in Kayunga, but when you have to slow your speech to talk to someone and then their train of thought never quite matches yours…its just hard. Such as, a lot of the men think that women shouldn’t be educated because then they wont stay at home to cook/clean/bear children and basically take care of their man. And let me tell you, there is no finding common ground with these guys. I find it repulsive that they can think this way. Then the women who cant look towards the future and don’t hope for anything better than what she was given…doesn’t strive whatsoever. Never once would dream of a life different from tending to her husband. Again, I cant relate one bit, and I don’t like spending my days always lecturing or trying to sway someone’s mind. And it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to understand. Whenever I try to understand and talk sense (or what seems to make sense to me) into people, instead of having a valid argument back, their response is always ‘It’s our culture.’ Such as, question ‘Why do you think Africa has the highest HIV/AIDS rates?’ response ‘Its our culture to have sex a lot’ question ‘why do the women have to kneel to the men and the men don’t have to kneel in respect back?’ response ‘you know, its our culture that the women have to show respect to the man’ question ‘but then why don’t the men have to show respect back to the women’ response blank stare ‘well its our culture’ Most people who have a decent education and are capable of deeper thinking tend to flee the village, either to go abroad or just go to Kampala. Sounds a little harsh, but when you sit alone every night and during the day you have these conversations that seem to go nowhere…you go a little crazy. Just think, I’ve been in Kayunga for all of 14 days staight…and Im going a little crazy. Just feeling trapped or claustrophobic somehow.

Ooo probably shouldn’t end on a bad note…this feeling makes me treasure the relationships that I have with family and friends back home so much more. And even with other American friends here, our friendships grew so fast because we were all placed in this situation.

And although I say that I get lonely and sometimes go a little crazy, I still love my time here and have learned an incredible amount about people and cultures different from my own. AND an unrealistic amount about the American culture; being away, in another culture, helps me distinguish our culture from others and makes me realize all the reasons why I LOVE being an American. I would never give it up.

As always, I love and miss everyone from home. I hope you are all enjoying that gruesome winter just as much as I am enjoying this sweltering heat. I have gotten to the point that if the temperature drops below 75 degrees Fahrenheit, I almost always put on a long-sleeve shirt, if not a sweatshirt. Most Ugandans would be found wearing winter coats.

2008-02-06T08:50:00.000-08:00

A mom's visit to the Peace Corps

2008-02-06T07:31:00.000-08:00

I had the great pleasure to travel to Uganda for two weeks in December 2008. Spending Christmas and my 50th birthday with Amy in Africa was the trip of a lifetime. Amy wanted me to give a reflection of my experience in Africa to dispell fears or satisfy curiosity about this unique foreign travel. I think she hopes everyone will decide to head over for a visit. I highly recommend it!

My first thought is that it was not scary at all! People were kind, yet very curious. They stared at us but generally in a friendly open way. Most people appeared to be waiting for an opportunity to chat. When conversation started, the Ugandans were among the happiest, most welcoming and proud people I have ever met.

We had many opportunities to chat and be welcomed to Uganda. We travelled all over the country in public taxis (minivans), buses, and on the back of bicycles (sorry to the nice guys who had to pedal us up and down hills for nearly an hour, we did offer to walk!). In all of our travels we were situated very close to the local people. In fact we were usually in full body contact. Minivans are packed beyond capacity so that you are wedged in tighter than you can imagine and may be called upon to hold an infant, add a toddler or small child between your knees and the back of the seat in front of you, or (nearly everytime) store a live chicken under your seat. In one instance, Amy could feel something cold and slippery under foot. Due to the fact that we had about six individuals in a mini-van bench seat she could not see the fish until the little girl who had been wedged between my knees and the seat (for several hours) retrieved her family's dinner when she departed. In many of these trips our seatmates greeted us pleasantly and appeared unruffled by the closeness, heat, flying dirt from the open van windows or the fact that we ran out of gas, ran errands or stopped for monkeys in the road. Everyone always looked nice with beautiful clothes and hair (lots of hair extensions in crazy colors). We, on the other hand, tended to be sweaty, dirty and my hair was a constant fright.

Several times taxi drivers offered Amy and I special courtesies. We were often placed in the front seat and the driver graciously powered the window up or down to maximize air flow to the other 30 in the back seat or stop the inflow of road dust. If felt like we were riding on a float in a parade. People stopped and waved as the taxi rolled through towns. Children ran along waving and calling out to the white women (Muzungu). We waved and smiled. This is amazing because six taxis in a row may roll through any town in any two minute timeframe. In fact, the six taxis may travel together for a several hour trip jockeying for position on the road by passing each other through the ditch, on either side of the road all without regard for oncoming traffic. In these moments the parade scenario morphed into a video game caliber taxi race. I found prayer very helpful in these moments. Potential visitors do not need to worry, a private driver can be hired for a very reasonable price. Although they may drive crazy, you will be alone in the car.

I expected to be uncomfortable because of a lack of amenities, however, it was only mildy disconcerting to lack water and electricity. It caused us to sleep when it was dark allowing the trip to be quite relaxing. Being grubby for 2 weeks was fine with me. I rarely saw a mirror so didn't fret about my appearance. We stayed in hotels that had western type bathrooms and we maximized those visits.

The clothing choice in Uganda is interesting. Women wear dresses that discretely cover their lower bodies but the upper half is frequently in full view as women constantly nurse babies. In the villages (most of the towns we visited) women wore skirts. In Kampala and other big cities, clothing was the same as in the USA. I found that skirts were cool and generally comfortable. It was difficult to keep my knees covered when riding bikes or motor bodas though. This made the locals laugh and point when they watched us ride by.

I could go on and on (more than I already have) but I'll finish by discussing the food. I found all the local food to be fine. Plain and filling. I suffered no ill effects from food or water (only bottled or boiled for me). The beer was fine when cold but not to my taste when served warm. Amy's friend Joe entertained us at his site with a beautiful dinner given by his boss (and family, local dignitaries and generally the whole village). The local brew beer they brewed for the occasion was very different from any I have tasted. I learned that this is a common beverage in village taverns, sipped from one large crock through long straws made from branches. I'll allow each person to form their own opinion of this unique brew.

In closing, the trip was unique in that I stayed in Peace Corps volunteer's homes so experienced the waterless, powerless (electricity) life they are living. Many of the towns we visited had lodging with amenities and the hotels we visited were comfortable and pleasant. Each visitor could tailor the visit to their comfort level and still see the beautiful sites (i.e. safari) that the country has to offer. Watching the young Peace Corps volunteers proudly create a complete Christmas dinner with all the trimmings over a gas cookstove and an open fire was priceless. Can you imagine many twenty somethings in the USA doing this?

I hope you are encouraged to visit our wonderful kids doing their good work in Uganda. Believe me, the people will welcome you with open hearts.

Dear Cassidy,

2008-01-26T04:05:00.000-08:00

My mom wrote a quick response to you on what I am looking for...mostly childrens books. And about shipping, at the post office there are international flat rate boxes if you are sending to volunteers overseas or someone in the army...they are $37 and you can put up to 20 lbs of stuff in them. Also, there may be postage deals on sending scholastic material?! I'd ask Aunt Debbie, she might know more about mailing. AND when you fill out the customs form, be sure to write that the contents of the box is worth very little or nothing so it doesnt get stopped in customs. My address:

Amy Olson, PCV
PO Box 29348
Kampala, Uganda

Thanks for your help. I wanted to put this information up for anyone interested in donating childrens books.

update

2008-01-10T05:13:00.000-08:00

It never ceases to amaze me at the consistency of the children’s enthusiasm upon seeing me or any other white person. I have lived in Kayunga for almost 8 months, but these kids still find it absolutely necessary to get my attention every time I walk by, whether that’s once a day or 12 times.

The reason this topic came to mind: Everytime I return to my house the teacher’s children come running. How they know I have come back? I have no idea. One little boy in particular I thoroughly enjoy his welcoming yell ‘MADAM NALUMANSI.’ He yells my name while running towards me up until he’s right in front of me, then becomes shy. He drops to his knees to whisper under his breath ‘osiibye otyanno madam nalumansi?’ (you spent the day how madam amy). After this brief greeting he gets his strength back and starts commanding me to come where he is and do what he tells me to do. All of which I hardly ever do, but he must still find some accomplishment in standing up to me. Not sure if I’ve yet mentioned, he’s three. I love this boy and the few times he hasn’t come to greet me when I return home, I feel lost.

Ok, other stories: My mother came to Uganda!!!!! (and she brought oodles and oodles of stuff) Doesn’t get any better. I’m not going to say anything about my mom’s visit because she has agreed to write an entry so I’ll let her tell the stories...it may be more interesting coming from a new person’s perspective anyway.

Before she came, I went on a quick weekend getaway with Joseph to Ssese Islands, Kalangala more specifically. I know I take a lot of vacations, but this one was laid back. I did a whole lot of nothing and it was a beautiful thing. I needed a break from the ‘always on guard,’ ‘always representing America to people that will probably only ever have me as an impression of the whole country’ position. I was talking the other day with someone about why staying at site is so exhausting. And we concluded that when we’re here, it is a 24 hour job...so naturally we need 3 times as many vacations as usual. Seems reasonable, I guess basically anything seems reasonable that rationalizes vacation time for me!

After she left, I spent some time in Tororo (in the east) and then returned home soon after new years. Now back to my thrilling life of work that has actually been going pretty well. My computer training has become organized and I have taught a few teachers the basics who now will become the primary computer teachers in teaching the others. My mom brought 2 laptops which have proven to be amazing. I will finish up teaching the first set of teachers and then they will begin teaching classes to other interested teachers on February 11th. The way it works, because I know you are all so interested (sarcastic), is that I have 2 computers and can only teach after school hours so session one is 330-5, session two is 5-630. Each trained teacher will take one night of the week to teach 4 people (2 computers x 2 sessions per night = 4 people per night, i know that because I was a math major!). My goal is to do about 10 sessions with each teacher and then allow teachers to work without supervision on the weekend.

The other project I’ve sort of started is the literacy one. Briana’s class has agreed to help in creating a small library for the school. And I think a few other people have mentioned donations from churches or various other places. So once I get that going, I will start a literary hour for each class in learning to read. I don’t know many specifics on that project as of yet, but anyone who has extra children’s books, I’d love to use them or know of ways for me to get a hold of some let me know. They can be any level of reading with the exception of adult books because I will separate them into categories of reading. And hopefully, if I get enough books for the resource room (library room), I will open it up to the other schools in my catchment area. We’ll see, I may be getting a little ahead of myself.

Exciting events to come: this weekend is official ‘dying of clothes’ weekend because everything that used to be white is no longer white and my mom brought every color dye you can imagine. I may ever start tye-dying, who knows?! Other than that, not a whole lot happening the next few weeks.

As always, I love and miss everyone back home and thanks for the comments, it helps motivate me to write. Amy

Thanksgiving

2007-12-06T02:18:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving

2007-12-06T01:28:00.000-08:00

2007-12-06T01:13:00.000-08:00

4 new pictures. Three are of my new house...one my roommates might appreciate. I hung up the painting and pictures from the mifflin house above my kitchen counter. the others are of my view from my back porch the little thing on the right is my pit latrine. another is of my back porch and the last is of a fishing village up north.

blog entry on Rwanda by a different volunteer

2007-11-14T23:53:00.000-08:00

I got back from Rwanda a few weeks ago, but havent written anything about it. My friend Rishi has a lovely blog with pictures and everything so you can read about Rwanda there if you want:

http://www.rishipcv.blogspot.com/

And I posted all my pictures from the trip on facebook, so if you have an account you can look at my pictures there.

Pit Latrines

2007-11-14T23:33:00.000-08:00

Going to the bathroom never ceases to be an adventure. I've been in Uganda 8+ months and have gotten used to the IDEA of a pit latrine, but definitely have not gotten used to using it.

Today as an example of me still not yet used. I open the door and the same alamander that is always in there startles me - then I walk in and a bat flies out, startled again. then I reach for the toliet paper held up by a nail in the door frame and a bug hops off the roll onto my hand. Startled three times in one bathroom visit.

For some reason, it is near impossible for me to aim my stream into the hold enven when in a squatted position. And then there's those times (every day, sometimes more) that more important substances have to make the hole - thats when there is no trying to make my stream.

Now a short story on my homestay bathroom. I talked to one of the PCV's that came a few months before me who happened to stay with the same family I had. She asked how long it took for the family to promote me up to the adult latrine. Come to find out, they never promoted me - I never got good enough, I always had to use the kids.

Although I am not quite an expert pit latrine user, I am starting to prefer it. Especially public - you dont have to touch anything, there's no flushing and no toiliet seat. Granted you dont HAVE to touch a public toliet at home if you use the hover/flush with your shoe technique, but my quads arent always up for hovering. And if ya gotta make a lot of noise - the pit latrines are always out back, not right off the living room. Freedom to let loose!

Since I'm on the topic of going to the bathroom - I'll tell you what should be my most embarassing story in Uganda thus far. I was sick with some bacterial dysentery. Thought I was getting better so I treated myself to a meal out in the hopping town of Kayunga. While eating my rice and beans, I quickly realized that I hadnt quick
recovered the way I thought I had. Left half my food sitting there and bolted towards home. Crunch time: had to make a choice. Either I poop my pants and let it fall down my leg or I drop my pants, hide my pride and poop in public. Since I neither like washing my clothes nor my body, I chose the latter. Made it as far as the Town Council Building, where my pants dropped to my ankles and immediately I was
blessed with a relief that people dont often get to experience. Then I look to my right...say hello to the town clerk. Too embarassing of a moment to be awkward. I just shrugged the whole thing off, greeted the town clerk (who at this point is shocked) and kept walking.

a few more pictures

2007-10-22T03:48:00.000-07:00

One is of a typical taxi...hole in the floor. One is of a mother helping her son pee in public...peeing in public is sooooo common here. And the last is of the common transport of meat, they dont have the same regulations about meat sanitation.

computer training

2007-10-22T03:44:00.000-07:00

So I started the computer training about a week ago. Session one is all that we have gotten through with the mass amounts of teachers I have. Here are some pictures of the classrooms I teach in.

Just a short bicycle ride

2007-10-19T01:11:00.000-07:00

A journey on my bicycle is never an uneventful one. Today I am in Kayonza sent out on supervision to Kayonza P/S and Namatogonya P/S. If you know me at all, you know that my directional skills are not to be bragged about. Now subtract road names – my directions to a school I’ve never been to: go to town, take a left, keep going a couple kilometers until you find the school. And when I get lost, its not just a simple matter of asking directions.

Me: Muzungu in a purple kitenge (mumu) riding a bicycle in a culture where women are not often found on bicycles, wearing a helmet with earphones.

My journey: Found town or what they call town. It consists of a 500 foot strip of duukas (a 5’ x 5’ room with French wooden doors that open up to the street or dirt road). Lucky for me there is only one left turn in town, I take it and continue. Now you must understand what going through ‘town’ is like. On my right children with no shoes, tattered clothing (or no clothes at all) are running to keep up with my bicycle. I imagine this is a highlight for the day since they ALL love to do it. On my left are the bike boda and moda boda men who spend the good part, if not their whole day under the mango tree in most cases pretending to be providing for the mass amounts of children they seem to have produced. Although most of these boda men have wives and children that in no way is reason enough to refrain from making kissing noises at me as if when a white girl comes by all manners, if they ever had any to begin with, are lost.

Ok, made it through town and took a left turn in town – step one, check! Step two – keep riding for a ‘few kilometers.’ So that’s what I do. Now I must point out that just because I’m out of town in no ay indicates I’m in safe territory. Attention still comes pouting in, but now people are slightly more dispersed. As I pass (as like anywhere) life as you know it stops to either just stare or in the case of children, take a quick spring after me. It is almost like I am conducting a one man parade that everyone in the area wants to watch and participate in. If you aren’t by now getting a clear view of what my everyday life is I will continue with this specific day…

The road is getting narrower and slightly more dusty, the mud, thatched huts are getting smaller and less maintained. Women digging in the garden let their clothes hang off so you are able to see their long, unsupported breasts. The tethered goats and cows seem to be looking thinner and thinner. Babies are left unattended, naked in the sun on the dirt to cry, the only time these babies get attention is breast feeding time. All clear signs that I am getting deeper in the village. Better stop and ask if I’m still going the right way. An old woman is up ahead. She has callused hands and feet from digging/working barefoot with a hoe in the field all her life. She shows me her great, big toothless smile. I know I've picked the right person to ask. I greet her and she kneels down to shake my hand (kneeling is a sign of respect – makes me so uncomfortable because shouldn’t I be the one showing her respect?) She is sweet and confirms I’m going the right way.

I continue on – now the biggest obstacle that lies between me and the school is a cow. It is tethered (tied with a rope) to one side of the road, but finds it necessary to eat the grass on the other side. This is a big dilemma and ill tell you why: I have precious experience with cows – sometimes they thing its essential to try and buck you, ram you, whatever you like to call it. And because of that, I've acquired a new fear of them. Yes, I’m from the dairy cow state and scared of cows. An inconvenience to say the least.

Back to my current situation. I stop my bike and wait. I try scaring the cow to the other side to allow me to cross – no luck and now there is a crowd gathering to watch the crazy muzungu yell at a cow. I give up and decide the only way to cross is by placing my bicycle in a ready position and whenever the cow gives enough slack to allow the rope to fall to the floor – I bolt. Brilliant! Done with the cow, onto the school.

Keep in mind school are professional places of work. What is acceptable here – unexcused absences, daily tardiness, no preparation for teaching – and when confronted about these problems, they way ‘oh, our teachers are stubborn,’ or ‘that’s just how things are this way,’ or ‘these people – they are joking’ instead of coming up with solutions. My solution is to fire the ‘stubborn, lazy teachers.’ Hate to impose too many of my American views on people here. Ok, I got off on a tangent.

I’m at the school. Teachers walk towards me saying in unison ‘You are most welcome.’ An over used phrase in Uganda. Without knowing the point of my visit I am ushered off to the head teachers office specifically to sign the visitors book. I am not officially there until I have signed this book that can be found in every organization, school, etc.

After a casual chat with this head teacher, where within he casually picked his nose (fully acceptable here to pick, even dig in you nose as much as needed until those boogers are out) I was led to the P6 (equivalent to 6th grade) classroom where two PTE students (student teachers) were teaching.

Now I am to the part of my adventure that is supposed to be the read work of the day. I have a supervision sheet that I’m supposed to mark. The topics are preparation, presentation, interaction with pupils and personal & profession attributes. Assessing teachers teaching ability is by far the most unejoyable aspect of my day so I'm trying to fill my schedule with other activities such as computer training to combat time spent supervising. It seems that most teachers teach the same and therefore I have general comments made to all => GROUP WORK. Root memorization is no fun for anyone and it sucks to watch a lesson taught with that objective. Never have I appreciated the American education system more – it allows for all different learning styles. Imagine being a quick learner in a system where the whole group moves as fast as the slowest learner and there are no textbooks to allow self study. No libraries. No learning tools. So after I gently tell these teachers all the things they are doing wrong and my suggestions for improvement, I leave.

Quick story about my love for a little boy in red underwear…There are those children who yell at us almost expecting us to do something odd – like you yell and make faces at a gorilla in the zoo to try and make it do something. So yes, there are those children who make me feel as if I’m a zoo animal on display. Then there are those who cry every time you into view because they think you are a ghost or something. Last, there are the brace ones who walk right up to you, put out their hand and ay ‘mpa kikumi’ – give me 100 (shillings, Ugandan money). Then there’s the teachers small child in read underwear named Tom. He didn’t seem to fall into any of these categories – he reminded me of a child at home that would take no notice to the color of my skin. Didn’t ask for money, wasn’t scared of me and didn’t cal me muzungu – he just played as a normal 3 year old might, even bounced to his own beat. And to top it al off, he had a hat that was unintentionally stylishly too small.

The ride back was similar to that of the ride there although P1 students had just gotten out so harassment was at an all time high.

Hope all is well at home…I miss it so much. AND thank you so much to all those who send letters and packages…they really brighten my day!

forgot to explain the pictures i posted

2007-09-25T04:19:00.000-07:00

one is of Joe's kitchen in Pajangango (eastern Uganda, near Tororo), one is of the roads by Joe's house...we took bicycle bodas, but the roads were so bad that we ended up walking/wading through water. Another is a picture of my counterpart and family and the last is of my house in Kayunga. And the last picture I am trying to upload is one from the soccer game.

Perceptions of my life in Africa.

2007-09-16T05:12:00.000-07:00

Numerous people have mentioned my 'mud-hut' through email or on the phone. My house is nothing near a mud hut. It is actually quite comfortable. The peace corps standards for a house in Uganda is that each volunteer is required to have at least 2 rooms. Katherine and I got pretty lucky...our house has a sitting room, kitchen, garage, bike room, bathing room and 2 bedrooms. And that is just our main house...in the back there's whats referred to as the 'boys quarters' that consists of 3 rooms...then 2 pit latrines in the back of the compound. It's funny that my bedroom in Africa is the biggest I've ever had! (and the biggest bed).

A few exciting things have happened in the last month. One being a football match (soccer) in Kampala: Niger vs. Uganda. The excitement in the stands was similar to that of a badger football game. Quite a few of us attended and at the end of the game, we realized that 4 or 5 people got stuff stolen (money, cameras, phones). I happened to be with one of the victims...and after the incident we took it upon ourselves to use the opportunity as an example of why Africa is percieved the way it is among first world countries. We generated a pretty big crowd and simply mentioned our frustration with the fact that muzungus (whites) are targeted for theft and that is one of the stories everyone tells about when they get home. So those who never make it to this continent only have the stories from others and the news. Although stuff was stolen, the game was still a blast...we won 3-1.

Also, in this past month was my '23rd' birthday! Getting old, I know :( We went for a long hike through Mabira Forest (between Jinja and Kampala). One highlight: saw a fresh, new born monkey dead on the trail. It was still wet from birthing juices, so I assume we had just missed the birth! It was sad, but it is not something you see everyday.

Fun fact I read in a recent newsweek:

on average the amount of water used per day per person in different regions of the world....

1) USA - 567 liters
2) Italy - 385 liters
3) China - 87 liters
4) Mozambique - 10 liters
5) Me - 5 liters (Katherine and I figured it out...it has really taken a toll on my personal hygiene hence the necessity of the hair cut)

Other stuff going on...our house got broken into again. Katherine came home from a week at IST and found two men in our house. They saw her and ran. How they got in: jumped the compound wall, used a hook to bend back the iron door, broke the lock on the wooden door and entered. What was stolen: a digital camera, and some stuff from Katherine's medical kit. What's creepy about it: these people have been watching us. So the only solution seems to be getting a live-in security person. We had another IST this past week and so a woman stayed in the boy's quarters just to be on watch and we locked down our house (14 locks total). When we returned, she reported that a couple guys had jumped the compound wall (knowing that we had left) and found her. Luckily they didnt hurt her, just badgered her a little bit. Bummer, eh?! And I have been told that I move into my new house tomorrow...not sure if it will actually happen, but that is the plan.

ps thanks for the comments. I love reading them!

hair cut

2007-09-12T04:24:00.000-07:00

everyone has been asking to see a picture of my new hair, so here is my attempt at uploading a picture. If it works, why I have two puppies in my arms is because I found them in our front yard and they were hot and hungry so I held them until I found their home.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA JO!!!!

couple quick stories

2007-08-14T06:40:00.000-07:00

Typical Ugandan scenario: Here I sit at Nyondo college (on the east, near Kenya) because at my last college meeting in Kampala we were told that our student teachers have residentials here. And attendence was mandatory. I came a day late, and the college is like a ghost town. About 20 students out of hundreds are here, CCT's, Deputy Principal, and the Principal are no where to be found. Everything is disorganized and not going to happen. It is so frustrating because I constantly feel like I am wasting my time...I'd rather be back in Kayunga working. But now I am stuck here waiting for students to show up.

Oh well, on a better note, I had an incredible weekend...I went to visit Joseph in Pajangango since he lives on the east side and i knew i had to come anyway for residentials. At his site we made pizza for his supervisor...delicious...no cheese, tomato paste for sauce, and chipati (like a tortilla) for crust, green peppers, onions, tomatoes, spices...'baked' on a charcoal stove.

Another story: I attended an event at Gospel Valley primary school. As always, I was one of the honored guests so i got front row. Different games were played, the first was dressing for school. So the baby class would strip down and then race to see who could put all their clothes back on the fastest. The second game was fill the bottle with water, so children would carry water in their mouths and run it across the field to spit it into a bottle...then came carrying the bottle on your head while racing across the field. And the last one I stayed for was a mattoke peeling contest which involved supplying primary school children with knives and letting race to peel banana like things.

Last quick story for the day, I went to Jinja to mail out a package with some wedding, baby and house warming gifts. The post office isnt quite as efficient as back home, so I couldnt just weigh the package and get correct postage printed...oh no, the lady weighed it and then gave me 74,600 shillings worth of stamps in increments of 800, 600 and 1000 which equals out to about 90 stamps that i had to lick and fit on this box. so silly.

quick update

2007-08-08T10:56:00.000-07:00

I don't think I have written since June..sorry about that, I've been

incredibly busy trying to get settled and starting up this computer

program and supervising my PTE students (I have 19 in schools all over

my catchment area, so everyday I am riding my bike out to

watch/critique their teaching). But i'll try to give a quick recap on

everything that has happened in the last month: I attended AVC (all

volunteer conference) at the end of June and from there, many of us

PCV's went whitewater rafting. The first day rafting was intense, our

boat got flipped so many times and the water would suck you under. If

caught in a whirlpool, the water would spin you in circles and then

shoot you to the surface. Although I was frightened the majority of

the time, it was safe. Our guide was the 2005 Uganda free style

kayaker so he is very experienced and there were ~15 kayakers waiting

for our boat at the end of every rapid ready to come in and pull us out

if we got sucked under and couldn't manage on our own. During the day,

the guides were telling me that so many internationally known kayakers

come through the area because the part of the nile that we were on has

some of the best rapids in the world! Kind of exciting!

After rafting I went back home to Kayunga for more teacher supervision

and everything else i do. Independence Day was that week and so

Katherine and I encouraged Ugandans to wear red, white and blue to

celebrate the occasion. This turned into one of the more lonelier days

at site because I kept thinking about all the festivities going on at

home...fireworks, parades, cook outs... And here, it rained all day.

Katherine and I did make cookies and handed them out to neighbors and

friends, which they loved. It was a fun day, just not what I am used to

on the fourth...I was especially crazing a beer brat.

Moving on to the 6th. Somehow I had gotten food poisoning so I was

vomiting both ways all thursday night, so I stayed home from work

Friday morning. I was lying on the coach and ya know that feeling that

you get when someone is staring at you? Well I had it all day. At

around 11:30 am, I looked out the back window and there was a boy about

15 years old staring in. Now in order to stare in the back window, he

would have had to climb a 10 ft concrete wall because our compound is

enclosed. I asked him how he got in and what he was doing...he ran, up

over the wall he went. Then I was feeling slightly better and had a

meeting at around 2 pm, so I prepared myself to leave, packing my bag,

closing all window, unlocked the front door to leave...upon realizing I

had to use the bathroom. Closed the front door, went to the back

compound where the pit latrine is...came back less than 2 minutes later

and my bag was gone :( Phone, letters I had written, my work

(supervision forms, computer programs), Peace Corps ID, drivers

lisence, bank card, all my school supplies, etc....all gone. Talk

about a crappy day! So I went to the police station to report it and

since Peace Corps is particular about what I am allowed to write in

this blog, I will leave that part of the story out for fear of getting

scolded. All I will say is that my bag has not been recovered, it is

August and the investigation has yet to start because the investigating

officer never shows up for work.

Ok the next week, more supervision, Head teachers meeting to discuss

corporal punishment (and how if I see it, I will report them and they

could lose their jobs), my house (still waiting for my house to get

finished so I can finally get moved in and settled), and various other

issues. That weekend I went to Kakiri to see a friend and a workshop

that she set up for teachers on Instructional Materials. That is a big

issue here...teachers teach with no visual aids, just lecture at the

students and expect these young children to retain everything and stay

attentive. Also that weekend turned into my American weekend. I met

some friends in Kampala, we went to see the new Harry Potter movie, got

packages filled with american candy, and went to a resturant a with

good beef.

The following weekend I traveled to the east to visit friends. My taxi

ride involved questions like Do americans eat snails? and a wedding

invitation, well not only an invitation but to be a maid...the weekend

also involved cave camping, cave paintings, tacos, bagels, local brew,

cinnabuns, food posioning and shaving heads, well only mine alone at

sight..successful weekend i think. now caught up to july 23rd. more to

come.

still trying to find the time to post pictures, sorry.

new phone

2007-07-31T04:53:00.001-07:00

i know i havent posted in awhile...and didnt even tell the story of how my cell phone got stolen, but i wanted to let you know my new number is 011256753431064. I've heard Viapin calling cards are the cheapest...so if ever bored, id love to hear from you! ill write a story soon (maybe on friday).

2007-07-09T06:02:00.000-07:00

25 June 2007

Sunday, the day everyone goes to church and spends time with family & friends, my options:

#1 Go into town, get called muzungu a countless number of times and on a good day get proposed to (yes, marriage). This option is mentally draining.

#2 Spend the day at home alone, cook beans and do laundry.

I chose #2, so here is a time line of my day….

40 minutes-time it takes to get the charcoal stove to produce heat
5 hours, 38 minutes-time it takes to cook beans after soaking them
overnight (and they still don’t taste good)
3 hours-time it takes to boil and filter water for drinking.

*in between poking/replacing coals, un/covering pot to maintain heat consistency, adding water because of evaporation – laundry is attempted. Four shirts and two skirts on the line to dry – just my luck, rain. So I bring everything inside, sit here and start analyzing my life.*

This is dangerous – either I think how great my life is and that I could never be happier or on days when I’m hungry waiting for beans that take ~6 hours to cook & my clean laundry gets rained on, I start to think ‘what did I get myself into? I could be home spending 5 minutes on throwing my laundry in the washing machine and 3 minutes on heating a can of beans in the microwave. If I’m really motivated, I can thaw a chicken breast and cook it in 20 minutes – chicken is no longer an option in my mind here after my previous experience preparing it.

I’m hungry, what do I do? Go to the nearest shop and get a loaf of bread…there is breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sunday would have been categorized as an unsuccessful day, but then my parents called and instantly my mood was lifted. I look forward to my once a week break from the reality of my world in Africa and instead get to listen to my parents voices and all the news from home. Briana and Jim are close to buying a place in MN with the help of Travis, Brett and Shalon’s wedding was beautiful, Amanda’s getting married!, Grandma Olson is moving into her new place, Grandma Lange’s house is sold, Mom is preparing for her upcoming exams, Kellan is finally a server at Milwaukee Grill, Dad is eating all of my strawberries, the list goes on. Suddenly I don’t feel so far away anymore.

Anyway, Saturday I went to my first introduction ceremony. This is a pre-marriage activity where the groom is being introduced to the bride’s parents. It is a big event, so every attendee has to get dressed up…women have to wear a Gomez (an outdated, European gown-puffy sleeve and all). So naturally the teachers at my school had to play ‘dress up the American.’ Dressing me involved 3 Ugandan women, a hot pink Gomez and a wrap along with my skirt underneath. The more poof, the better. Let me remind you, I am currently on the equator…wearing a shin-length skirt, tank-top, a thick cotton wrap, and a full length, full sleeved Gomez. Ah, I don’t know why these women chose to wear this attire, but EVERYONE loved that I was wearing one. So after the ‘dress Nalumansi (my African name)’ game, we left for the ceremony. Right when you get there, you have to introduce yourself and greet the crowd…I followed suit and introduced myself in Luganda drawing all kinds of attention to me. Instant celebrity. This ceremony lasted about 6 hours and includes tons of gifts, slaughtering of a cow & goat, introduction of the groom (but first they have to find him in the crowd, it’s kind of funny)….

Also, in the morning on Saturday, my counterpart and I held a workshop on schemes of work for the student teachers and I ended up giving an impromptu math lecture on volumes/rates. It felt really good helping these teachers learn.

So today (Monday) I am in the office establishing my work plan. Right now, my goals are computer training, math tutoring, and setting up a reading center for the pupils, but beyond that my days will be filled with classroom observations, workshops, meetings... I’m pretty pumped about all of it!

So a few things about Uganda:

Time: VERY LAX. If we have a workshop scheduled for 9 am, there is no way it will start before 11. Even an official university meeting with the principal, deputy principal and all the CCT’s always starts at least 2 hours late. The Ugandans keep saying ‘you will get used,’ but I refuse to get used to wasting time. The American time-consciousness in me keeps saying ‘hold yourself and others to a higher standard.’ So an undocumented goal of mine is to improve time-management of Ugandans…this could turn out to be a disaster, but I’ve started with my counterpart. If we have a meeting and he is more than ½ hour late, I leave and he is responsible for rescheduling. And then I remind people that it is very disrespectful to be late. They aren’t quite grasping the concept and keep telling me it is their culture…

Rain: Life Stops. If it starts to rain, the entire country shuts down. And if I am still moving in the rain, people are shocked and try to call me into their houses to take cover. I just keep reminding people that they are water-proof and life can continue in the rain, but they don’t agree.

Favorite Phrases and Meanings:
Do you get me? Are you understanding what I am saying?
You are most welcome! A respectful greeting.
Well done. A respectful greeting.
It’s okay. Yes/Sure/great….this phrase works for
everything
No problem. Said when there is a problem, but they don’t
want to fix it.

Ah, this entry is so long, I hope it is entertaining and gives a little more insight into my life here!

I wrote this entry awhile ago, I am slightly behind...will catch up with my life soon...a story to come, but FYI my cell phone was stolen.

ps So good to hear that all of you are reading (from your comments).

response to miss ashley

2007-06-19T00:59:00.000-07:00

I guess I should clarify what I am doing here a little bit although I'm still not entirely sure. So my catchment area is made up of 60 schools, all of which I am supposed to work with. Obviously this is virtually impossible considering my only mode of travel to the schools is bicycle.

Quick comment about riding a bicycle: Not only do I already stand out because I am white, but now I am the white woman riding a bicycle (woman do not ride bikes, drive cars..) and as if that is not enough...Peace Corps has a strict policy on volunteers wearing helmets...so you can only imagine what I look like to these Ugandas, woman in flowy skirt getting caught in gears with curious looking hat.

Anyway, I just made my work plan for June and July. I will be making it to about 20 or less schools a month and then whatever programs I set up, I have to go back the next month to be sure the program is being sustained by the school/community. The only big program I am starting is a computer training for most teachers connected to my coordinating center. Not really sure how this is going to go, but all the teachers are really excited to learn basics about computer....ALTHOUGH right now there are only two computers at the center that I have to train hundreds of teachers on. So I am working on getting my hands on cheap, old, used computers. Any ideas from places I can contact in the states is much appreciated.

So also, I have this community integration project which my goal is to simply make the community learn my name...everyone yells 'muzungu' at me and I'm really starting to get sick of it :( Other than that, bats are gone...snakes we are working on, and I can't feel the amoebas any more!

we've got bats

2007-06-17T02:00:00.000-07:00

Amoebas are slowly working their way out of my system, but in came the snakes and bats (into the house, not my body). So Katherine Peters, my temporary roommate, and I had to leave the house yesterday so they could fumigate the house. Sometimes if you stand outside the house after they spray, you can watch the bats limping out of the house, but they always die and then you just have to sweep them away. Although one place that we didn't spray is in the pit latrine and unfortunately that is where i say a 3 1/2 ft black, skinny snake...nobody likes company in the pit latrine. The ugandans say that the snakes are very bad and dangerous, but they are scared of all snakes so im not so sure how dangerous this specific type is.

Other than bats, snakes and amoebas...life is good. Thursday I went to my catchment area (the primary school connected to my coordinating center), I have 60 primary schools that i am supposed to ride my bicycle to and work with. That is a lot of schools. Only the coordinating center school has 2 computers, the rest don't, but many do have electricity which is exciting. some of the private ones are close to what you would picture a mud hut to be, but the rest are concrete buildings. The teachers all seem really excited about me being here and they all seem to be very willing to work with me! Friday, in the morning, I had an environmental festival, which was really great...lots of speeches and performances by the children. There were baskets, floor mats, balls and all kinds of fun stuff made from local materials. I keep forgetting to bring my camera along, but I will get pictures soon and post them online if i can figure it out.

It also rained on Friday, so like i mentioned before how lazy I am to bucket bathe, I showered outside again. And also, pumping water from the boar hole into gerry cans is a lot of work and the gerry cans are incredibly heavy so I set buckets outside and just collected rainwater all day! I'm really starting to get daily african life down.

Not much else to report, except yesterday I was in town, so I treated myself to a nice restaurant and got a pizza. It was topped generously with mouthwatering, delicious cheese...I couldnt have been happier!

back in Kampala, but this time its amoebas...

2007-06-12T05:32:00.001-07:00

Stool results are in and it wasn't in fact giardia, but instead amoebas. I'm on new meds and feeling fine.

So a friend and I were running home on Sunday because it started to rain and I mentioned how that was going to be my shower for the week (which isnt normally far from the truth) but the rain ended up being a great relief from bucket bathing. Brett and I brought shampoo and conditioner outside and washed our hair from the roof runoff. It was more water pressure than I've had for weeks. Rain works great for shaving legs too!

Other than that, I had a PIASCY (Presidents Initiative against ...... youth?) festival yesterday. I forget what all the letters stand for but it is an initiative against AIDS/HIV, an attempt to prevent the spread through education of how it is transmitted. So my school, Bishop Brown, hosted about 10 primary schools for this festival, which was full of dancing, singing, poetry reading and drama. Each school performed all four and related them to the PIASCY, so they were filled with messages about abstaining for sex, not accepting gifts/money for sex, etc. The kids made is so fun, and were so mature about the whole thing...i was so impressed.

hope to hear from everyone soon!

oh sickness in Uganda

2007-06-07T06:06:00.000-07:00

So a couple days ago, Tuesday, I ate my first icecream in Uganda at a restaurant in Jinja thinking it was ok...little did I know, I would be paying the price later. So all day wednesday, I hung out in my 3x3 foot concrete pit latrine squatted over a 3x5 inch hole in the ground. Let me tell you, dairy is not worth it. ALTHOUGH the intense stomach pain and diarrhea continued onto this morning and throughout the day. So I had to come to the medical office in Kampala to have everything checked out. little did i know my pain was not caused by dairy, but instead i have giardia. it sucks but hopefully it will be gone soon! Going to get a bicycle today...and then ride the taxi home.

oh my life...

2007-06-05T02:30:00.000-07:00

It's so funny to think that three months ago I had indoor plumbing, carpet, chocolate, good meat, dairy foods...you wouldnt believe I was from Wisconsin without my beef and cheese.

I got my site switched and am now in Kayunga about 20 km from where I was in Namuganga. I havent really started work yet because of the chaos of moving and the workshop in Iganga. So the past two days I have been building furniture because I am so poor I cant afford to buy already made stuff, I have to buy wood...so far I have built a bookshelf, closet, vanity table and tip up (handwashing station).

Not sure if I mentioned the story about 'American meal' day during training. Well I will tell it again if you have already heard...each language group was supposed to write up a list of ingredients to make an american meal and present it to the whole group buffet style. Our group chose chicken burritos...so naturally the list was avacados (for guacamole), tomatoes, onions, rice, flour (to make tortillas), beans, chicken...etc. Well everything was brought to us to start cooking except the beans...its ok we'll do without. Then the chicken is laid out in front of us, feet tied and still alive. In my mind, I definitely envisioned frozen, boneless chicken breasts...what was I thinking?! Since no one in my group could stomach slaughtering the chicken I took charge. Now dont start thinking that i was about to slit this chickens neck...i got a little boy to do it. He slit it like he has done a thousand times before, an experience I never got as a child. but then he handed it over...I put it in a basin of hot water to soften the feathers and began plucking. Once the chicken was hairless, I skinned it and broke the bones to get the meat off since I had no real technique of chicken slaughtering. We cooked it and it tasted good, but that was the first and last time I will ever kill for chicken...id rather become a vegetarian...which is essentially what is happening here.

ahhh out of time, story of my life huh?! Much love, amy

another PCV's website with pictures i hear

2007-05-26T01:24:00.000-07:00

www.ashortgoodbye.com

another try at posting

2007-05-26T00:48:00.001-07:00

So I left off with my Peace Corps Visit back in March...training continued. The language became monotonous and long, we all dreaded the mornings because we were constantly bombarded by trainers to speak the language we were attempting to learn. Motivation was easily lost because we were surrounded by each other. Technical training filled the afternoons, so i learned about the ugandan educational system and taught at a primary school and teachers college. One weekend we took a field trip to Masaka to see an organization that an American started called AIDCHILD...it was incredible. This man takes orphans in who are infected with AIDS and teaches them about the disease and helps them with their medicine and school. Eventually they re-introduce the children to the public primary schools, but only after they are ready. The program is so amazing, and it is still expanding. Other than that, we have had workshops with our counterpart and supervisor.

Finally on April 22nd, we were told our future sites...I was placed in Seeta Namuganga (if looking on a map it is east of Luweero, north of Kampala, in the Mukono district but very close to Kayunga). So also that week, we got to go visit our sight. It was the first time I had to leave the other trainees for an extended period of time. I was on the edge of breaking down...traveling completely alone, not knowing where you are going is a scary thought. I did run into quite a few transportation issues getting to my site, but I am still in the process of resolving them and hopefully it will turn out for the best.

We came back from future site visit and had our last week of exams...qualifying project and language proficiency. Both of which I passed! Then our very last week of training (May 6th-May 10th) was spent in Kampala. Swearing in was held at the ambassadors house, which was incredible--we had a pizza pool party there earlier in the week! We were completely spoiled this week. Immediately following the swearing in we were shipped off to sights. that was really hard.

Now I have been at sight for about 2 weeks and I have spent the time at a workshop in Iganga with my Ugandan counterpart. My site is in the process of being switched to Kayunga because of transportation difficulties to my tiny village and other than that life has been good. I am currently in Mbale on the east, seeing some friends and spending the night at Sipi Falls tonight, which I hear is absolutely beautiful.

It is so hard to tell about life here, but it is the everyday stuff
that amazes me. the longer i am here, the less i notice the
obscurities because they become normal...such as chickens walk in my
house all the time, 5 yr olds ride full sized bicycles while holding a
6 month old baby on the back...stuff that will be hard for me to
notice again until a visitor from home comes and points it out.

Short insight into Ugandan transportation: Imagine this...2 km from my site there is one taxi that comes once a day between 2 pm and 5 pm...but is completely unrelliable. So I get there at around 1:30pm to be sure to make it and it comes around 3:30. There are 30 people in this small minivan...then we get a flat tire...this happens every day. I'm out of time, but next time I wont wait so long to post...sorry

my new home

2007-04-24T00:20:00.000-07:00

PCV visit

2007-03-24T05:49:00.000-07:00

Trying to start up where I left off, I moved in with my host family and have been in training and this weekend we finally got to get out of Luweero (the training site). PC wanted us to see what life is really like for the 2 years that we will be volunteering so they pair us up with a PCV and send us out. I got sent to Kangulumira, a village between kampala and jinja and Allison showed us her house, daily routine for a couple days. It definitely seems like something I could do (thank god since I will be doing it for the next 2 years). We held a teacher trainer workshop to help the teachers brainstorm on how to come up with methods of teaching math.

Allison, my PCV, also showed us how to bake without an oven, which is a feat in itself! We walked to the Nile, and spent the days meeting and greeting people. It almost feels like i am a celebrity here!

im out of time, but life is good here and i couldnt imagine myself being any where else right now. I love hearing from everyone at home, so whenever you get a chance, send me an email!

3 weeks out of country

2007-03-21T23:42:00.000-07:00

I can't even begin to describe how much has happened in this last couple weeks, but I will try to tell some highlights.

I arrived at Banana Village in Entebbe on Monday the 5th and was assigned a hut. My roommate, Elizabeth and I didnt want to stay up too late so we headed straight for bed. Imagine this: A concrete hut, thatched roof with bright teal and yellow walls. Our king size bed was dressed with a 'safari' blanket and 2 lumpy pillows. Holding the elegant mosquite net up were 4 hand carved exotic posts, detailed just enough to make out the curves of a womans body. Although this sounds ideal for my first night in Africa, there was an ant infestation...which never got resolved, but we made it into a small adventure.

The next morning came faster than I was ready for after having a nine-hour time chance and 18+ hours on an airplane. The whole day was filled with safety and security lectures along with 'getting to know you' interviews. It was really nice to spend one on one time with some of the trainers since our group 50, everything is done in big groups.

Day 2 in Uganda was dedicated to medical. Vaccinations were in line. I've suffered through 6 of the 13 that need to be administered. Then onto malaria. My fellow trainees started dropping like flies (passing out rather) from the constant head, exhaustion and subject matter. I now know everyting anyone could ever want to know about malaria and many things I'd rather not know.

Day 3 came and I found out my language is Luganda! So I should be pretty centrally located. Also, cross cultural lectures were given to prepare us for homestays. This included detailed instruction on taking bucket baths, using pit latrines, cooking with no kitchen appliances, washing laundry in a basin, using charcoal irons, proper dress, etc. You can only imagine what it's like washing myself out of small bucket of cold water and then trying to aim at a 5''x7'' hole in the ground to pee. It's a different world over here, no better-no worse!

Mostly banana village was a little bubble so the 50 of us could adjust to time changes and weather slow. It is very hot here and no air conditioning to get away from the intense sun. there was also a lot of trainee bonding too. Since we are all going through the same 'withdrals,' and are here for the same reason...we all have so much in common and everyone gets along great.

Although I was only at Banana Village for 1 week, leaving it was sad. It almost felt like the first part was over. We left for Kampala and saw the capitol city...had a pool party/luncheon at the US Ambassadors house and continued on to Luweero, where we met our host families. I have a dad, mom, 10 yr old sister, 7 yr old brother and a 1 yr old brother. The children are really shy and almost scared of me?! But the entire neighborhood comes over to play everyday after school which gets incredibly exhausting! The training is long hours, but useful and fun. The culture hits you in the face especially since I am living with a family. I love their culture, but it is hard to grasp since it is so abstractly different from the American way. I never know if I am offending someone. Gender roles are evident and very seperated....there is so much to tell about the life I am living in Luweero, but I dont have time right now. I will think of specific stories to tell in my next post.

much love, amy

oh if you have skyppe and want to call 011256751700566

disclaimer

2007-03-05T00:18:00.000-08:00

Address for first 3 months

2007-03-03T19:02:00.000-08:00

Amy Olson, PCT
PO Box 29348
Kampala, Uganda

send me mail!!!!

first day of orientation

2007-03-02T18:01:00.000-08:00

Success, but only after calling my mother for help to baggage claim and ground transportation in an airport that she has probably never been to. Nevertheless, she helped me through the whole ordeal, got my bags, and made it to the hotel safely. By the time I got to the hotel, it was around 2 pm...already late for orientation which started at 1. Not a big deal though...it was open registration from 1-3, the best kind. Immediately when I walked in people started approaching and I got so overwhelmed that I had to leave the room. When I came back, I met tons of people and spent the most time with my roommate, Elizabeth. Fifty names and faces later, I've met almost everyone and feel good about everyone and everything. I am still a bit overwhelmed, but no longer nervous about any aspect of Peace Corps. Tomorrow is a full eight hour day of more orientation from 8:30 to 6 pm.

new email.

2007-02-23T11:07:00.000-08:00

amy.jo.olson@gmail.com

Uganda it is!

2006-10-10T13:57:00.000-07:00

I heard back from the Peace Corps 2 weeks ago, I was placed in Uganda. Here is my assignment in brief:

Program: Community/School Resource Teacher Trainer Program
Job Title: Primary Teacher Trainer
Dates of Service: May 2007 - May 2009
Orientation/Pre-Service Dates: March 3-May 17, 2006

My duties:

1. Improve the technical skills of primary school teachers by introducing participatory learning activities for your children aimed at developing basic skills in mathematics, literacy, and life skills.

2. Work with school administrators through onsite coaching and group trainings to improve their leadership skills and their ability to support their teachers' ongoing professional development.

3. Strengthen home-school-community connections through joint school improvement activities and projects.

:)

Dad,

2006-05-30T12:33:00.000-07:00

Here are my future plans so whenever you need to assure yourself that my life is still on the right track...or at least on some track moving forward...you can just look at this:

December 2006 - Graduate from UW-Madison with a math major
March 2007 - Leave for the Peace Corps
June 2009 - Back in the States
August 2009 - Back to school for my Master's in Education
May 2011 - Graduate
August 2011 - Qualified for secondary education (start teaching)

Spring Break in Boston

2006-03-20T19:39:00.000-08:00

This spring break I decided to go on what is called an ‘alternate spring break’ through Memorial Union. My first choice was:

Boston, MA-Work at a homeless wet shelter serving in all facets of the organization and getting to know the individuals they serve.

So I applied, got accepted, went to a couple of meetings and took off in University vans with 9 other people that I had just met during the 2 – 3 hour meetings. The 23 hour drive to Cambridge was a small adventure in itself with a stop in Niagara Falls and gas stops in some of the most desert cities in the nation.

We arrived in Cambridge at the CASPAR Emergency Services homeless wet shelter in the late afternoon on Saturday, March 11. We were given a ‘loose’ schedule for the week starting with breakfast at 5:30 am the following morning. Everyday there was a need for 10-15 shifts that we were supposed to fill. A typical day:

5:30-8 am Breakfast (2 volunteers)
8-12 pm Outreach (2 volunteers)
11-1 pm Lunch (2 volunteers)
3-8 pm Outreach
4-6 pm Check-In (2 Volunteers)
3-6 pm Dinner Prep/Serve/Clean-up (5 volunteers)

Some days had tours of the CASPAR programs or the Pine Street Homeless Shelter and everyday was exciting. Since we only had shifts of working, different groups of us would go out and explore. I saw a lot of Cambridge, including Harvard. One day a few of us sat down to listen to a lecture, but it was the day of their midterm exam. Our entire group of 10 students went to a musical, Chicago, put on by Harvard students. Cambridge was a small, but fun town, it was easy to be entertained by walking around the square and up Massachusetts Avenue.

I did much the same in Boston, just walked around and explored the city. There was too much to see in Boston; I did the best I could with the time I had…seeing the main cemetery, Boston Commons, Chinatown, Quincy Market, the ‘original’ Cheers Bar, and of course the nightlife. Considering we were there on St. Patty’s Day, and Boston is known for being the Irish capitol of the United States, everyone was out partying on this Irish Holiday.

Although I loved touring the city, the best part of my trip by far was 240 Albany Street, the homeless shelter. I met some of the most amazing people, staff and clients both. The more time I spent in the shelter, the more I got to know these people and eventually came to miss them. They left an impact on me that will never leave. Most of how I am feeling about these people is too hard to describe, but I can honestly say that I will never judge a homeless person; sometimes I am too quick to imagine what their life is like when I have no idea what happened to them or how they got to where they are.

Back in America!

2005-11-30T19:40:00.000-08:00

We just docked in Hawaii and everyone is going through immigrations (we have to do a face-to-face with immigration officers), so we are waiting until that gets done to be cleared. Today was the warmest day it has been in a couple of weeks, coming from China and Japan. I laid by the pool ALL day…after taking my last exam in global studies. All I have left is three finals in the next week and then my semester is over. So now that we are docked everyone is on their cell phones; you wouldn’t believe how many people brought them just to use in this port (and San Diego). I think I am going to borrow Abby’s and call my family…so if you see this, be expecting a call soon! (It is 5:40 here, so I think it is 9:40pm there?!)

Well, I think this will be my last post considering I will be in San Diego next week and all that follows are exams and packing…there is only so much I can write about those two topics! And I am just planning on going out tonight and then laying on the beach all day tomorrow…so unless something extraordinary happens that I have to tell you about within the week, I will talk to you when I get home.

My attempt to retell China

2005-11-28T22:59:00.000-08:00

I know my entry on China and Hong Kong was pretty weak, so I am going to try and re-write it to give you a better perspective on this Asian country.

I woke up for sunrise over Hong Kong; it was so beautiful because you could see the land mass with many tall buildings from really far away. I’ve been told, Hong Kong is one of the most beautiful ports to pull into as well. The city reminded me of a mix between Boston, New York City and Las Vegas. Boston because it has a lot of history, New York because it is a big city, and felt big, and lastly Las Vegas because at night, everything was lit with bright neon lights. The first part of the day was spent wandering around Hong Kong trying to figure out where we were going and what there was to do, just like in every other port. The streets are very confusing and close to no one speaks English; luckily many of the street signs and maps have English printed below the Chinese symbols. While walking, we did find a very pretty park with fountains and such. Eventually we got so frustrated trying to find the market (or anything other than tall buildings) that we just got in a cab and pointed to a place on the map. We ended at the market, and then we went to Ocean’s Park, and then made our way back to the ship to get ready to check out Hong Kong’s night life.

The next morning, I had a Semester at Sea trip leaving for Bejing at 9 am. Most of the day was spent traveling, but when we arrived, we were transferred to the hotel to drop off our stuff and then to dinner. It was such an obscure dinner…all of the meat that was brought out still had heads attached so you always knew exactly what kind of meat you were eating…you could stare into their eyes if you wanted to. They also brought out what we were told were gelatin noodles, that ended up being jellyfish. All the food dishes were brought out and put in the middle of the table on a turny thing and everyone just grabbed what they wanted to try. There was so much food left over because no one could eat it. That night we met the Peking University students, my friend, Whitney and I made buddies with a girl named Li Li, who we found out later used to be a model. She is now attending law school at the university; she showed us around the campus and then we made our way back to the hotel.

Bright and early the next morning we made our way to a Jade Factory; it seems that on all SAS trips, they try to take us to the most expensive, touristy spots. Naturally, only the really rich kids bought any jade at this factory. We visited the Ming Tombs next, but only for a short time because everyone wanted to spend more time at the Great Wall. After lunch, we went to the Great Wall, but only a part of it because it runs for a really long way. We were at one of the military bases that they had, my guess is that it was only about 3 miles around, but it was so hard to walk up and down the stairs. They were uneven, and some I literally had to crawl up; going down was definitely harder only because when you looked down, you thought for sure you were going to fall (it was that steep). Yea I was definitely really sore the next day, but I was proud for making it all the way around; only about 20 out of our group of 75 made it. Dinner and lunch this day were slightly better than dinner the previous night, at least some things were fit for human consumption (I guess I have pretty high standards). Dinner was with the University students, so I had more time to learn about Li Li, and that night they held a party for us, with some fun games, like telephone, human knot…more little kid games, but since we didn’t speak Chinese, it made things really fun.

We left the University about 9pm and a friend, Andrew on my SAS trip had a friend that is studying in Bejing (Danny), so he took us to the bar district and hung out with him and his friends all night.

The entire next day, we hung out with Danny, and his girlfriend…we left our SAS group in the morning and went to Tian’anmen Square that is surrounded by The Great Hall of People, Chinese History Museum and the Forbidden City. The Forbidden City was very cool, but a little less exciting that I expected. It was absolutely enormous, but beyond each wall is the exact same thing. I am so glad I saw it, but I won’t really need to go back there. We met up with our SAS group for dinner and ate some Peking Duck, it was good. They must have saved the best for last. That night we saw an acrobatic performance at the Chaoyang Theatre; it was absolutely amazing the way these people can stretch and disfigure their bodies. It was almost painful at times; they would stack themselves up in such odd forms.

Before we left for Hong Kong on our last day, we went to the Summer Palace, and made our way to the airport. Our flight got delayed and we didn’t end up getting back to the ship until after on-ship time because we were delayed so long. When we got in, we had to go straight to the ship.

Almost Home...

2005-11-26T20:16:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving dinner was kind of sad; the cafeteria was so crowded because everyone was so excited for a huge meal that by the time I got to the front of the line, the “real” turkey was gone. Then I found out that the pumpkin squares were gone. I only got to eat mushy stuffing and mashed potatoes Beyond the food, I ate with some of the coolest people on the ship, in my opinion, and we talked about family traditions…so that was really great.

Tomorrow night is the Ambassador’s Ball, this is a four-course meal with a glass of champagne, almost signifying the end of the journey. After the dinner there is a dance and a dessert buffet, and then they are going to show a “sneak preview” of the SAS Fall ’05 DVD. Should be a good time?!

Other than that ship life has been kind of a downer because everyone is frantically writing papers and getting ready for exams. Good news: We just heard that we are getting to Hawaii a day early, so we will be able to get off the ship the night before we were scheduled!!!!

A day in the life of Briana

2005-11-23T23:21:00.000-08:00

Our day started with a 7 am wake up call. Normally this wouldn’t have seemed very early for us, compared to 4 am in India, but we were so exhausted the last thing we wanted to do was get out of our warm bed into the cold air.

As we walked up to Briana’s school, children ran from all directions to point us out and just watch us walk. There were students on the second floor of the window peering through the gates to get a glimpse of us. Like Briana has said many times before, we were celebrities.

We started the day out with the 2nd graders, I think, and when Briana started teaching, we were all surprised to hear her enthusiasm. I can hear her in my head saying, “Hello, Good Morning…Who are these people?” and then we would stand up and say our names and where we were from. This is how the class started for all of the 5 classes she taught. When Alex stood up, she would say her name and then say she was from New York…and in the first grade class, all of the little kids stuck their right arm straight up, signifying the statue of liberty. It was so cute, and then one of the little boys said New York Yankees. Briana taught the students numbers and colors most of the day…a lot of Bingo, and some singing was involved.

Then lunch time came…boy was I not expecting this. One bowl had rice…ok, second bowl had salad…pretty bad, last bowl had odon…most disgusting thing I have ever eaten in my life. Well that is a lie, it was so bad I couldn’t even swallow it because if I tried the swallow whole method, I only had a box of cream to down it with. When I tried chewing and swallowing like a normal human being, it came right back up and tasted better the second time going down. Then comes dessert, dried minnows, no lie. And because we were eating with the children, we had to set a good example by eating our entire meal, down to every rice grain. I couldn’t do it, I had to secretly toss my bowl of food over my shoulder into a bucket of scraps or something. Lunch wasn’t all failure, the kids were really cute because they have to get on little lunch uniforms with little face masks to serve themselves. They are so much more disciplined than even high school students in America. After lunch, they have to clean the school…they are each given a specific task and then spend the time between recess and class doing their chore.

So throughout the whole day, there was this awesome crazy lady. She was the task lady…not the secretary, but just the lady that sits there and does whatever. When we came in, for one she not stop giggles about everything and anything, for two she served us coffee between every class until we were forced to say no because my body didn’t want any more caffeine. Whenever we would say we liked something, it would be there right in front of us. Abby learned how to say that she loved mandarin oranges…first the lady said that Abby was really good at Japanese and then had a basket of oranges in front of us. We said we were a little cold, there was a heater next to us within three minutes. I guess it is just the way they do things.

After school, we visited the education building to see where Briana works on her “off” days, and then went to another school that she works at.

That night we were invited to Briana’s supervisor’s house for dinner. I was so afraid that I was going to have to suffer through another miserable meal, but when we got there, they brought out beef! The meal was so good, and the family spoke pretty good English, so it was fun to talk with them. After we stuffed ourselves full with beef, they brought out sushi rolls. I couldn’t pass up traditional home-made sushi, so I made myself one. This is what mine had in it…sticky rice, eel, tuna salad, salmon, crabmeat, egg all wrapped up in seaweed. I can honestly say, I am definitely not a fan of sushi.

The family gave us lots of presents, it is part of the Japanese culture to give and receive presents. As we were not that aware of this tradition, we didn’t bring anything…they gave us postcards, traditional Japanese fans (one for my mom as well). Then the next morning, they (the entire family) insisted on driving with us to the bus station at 7 am, 45 minutes away, to see us off. They brought more presents, and then bought us snacks for the bus ride. SOOO genuinely nice. Saying goodbye was sad, I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time with my sister and brother. It was more like teasing me…

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Today was a good first day of sailing. How I determine this: grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch, and there was an announcement saying that we are having Turkey for Thanksgiving for dinner. It is all based on food!

I'm sitting in Briana and Jim's house right now!

2005-11-21T06:57:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I am already in Japan, my last port of call on my voyage...it's almost over. Japan started with a phone call to my room on the ship. Some guy is on the other line speaking all jibberish in my mind (probably had something to do with me just waking up) and then all of a sudden I hear my sister's voice...her and Jim got on the ship before I was even allowed to get off. So I run to the gangway and gave hugs; it was so weird to see someone from my "real" life in my "surreal" life. So I gave them a tour of the ship and then we ate lunch in the cafeteria. Uh I still can't believe I am at my sister and brother-in-law's house in Japan...crazy.

So after Alex, Abby and I got all situated we left in Briana and Jim's little, mini car to drive the 4 hours back to Futami. We stopped in Matsuyama on the way and walked down a lit up boulevard...it was like a shopping strip, but there were Christmas decorations all over. Until this port, I haven't even thought about Christmas because it has been considerably warm...so on this strip there was a Santa Claus, and some Christmas music playing...Jim told me that the Japanese kind of pretend to celebrate Christmas because everyone else does it, but when it comes down to December 25th, they don’t really do anything. Kind of funny that they would put on the whole show just for tourists.

For dinner we ate at a sushi restaurant because Alex and Abby have been talking nonstop since we left India about how excited they were to eat sushi. So we walk in and the cooks are yelling some random Japanese phrases that apparently translate to "welcome" and we sit down next to a conveyer belt with colored plates on it. The whole idea is to watch the food come around on these plates and then take what you want and pay at the end depending on how many plates you have and what color they are. It felt like a game...a fun one at that. And after you pay, you play another game…who can get the last bow before losing eye contact, usually the Japanese win because they have had more practice I think. Jim is getting pretty quick though, I think he has one a few matches.

We drove the last 45 minutes back to their house in Futami and got the grand tour. It is such a cute house...the first floor has a living room, kitchen, and two bathrooms (one with a toilet and one with a shower). The upstairs has a computer room, and the bedroom...it seems like the perfect size for two people to live in. I love everything about her house except it is very cold...they do have a space heater and have been turning it on, I think in part to keep me from complaining about how cold I am:)

The next morning I woke up to Briana making both my friends and I breakfast...if you know Briana, this is a bit out of the ordinary...she looked like a real house wife. We had egg and cheese sandwiches. During the day we walked around Futami a little bit, saw a temple near her house and then walked on a beautiful beach…next we ventured into Matsuyama to visit a castle that just happened to be under construction when we visited, but we could still see the entire city from the top, very cool. We did a little more touring of the city and then ate dinner…ice cream…and back home. We have to get a good night’s sleep before we go into Briana’s first grade class tomorrow; then Briana’s supervisor invited us over for dinner…I hope I don’t screw anything up like forget to take my shoes off or bow uncontrollably.

Fun fact of the day: My dad’s name, Gary, in Japanese means diarrhea, so feel free to call him that whenever you see him.

hong kong and bejing

2005-11-15T20:11:00.000-08:00

I love China!!! the last couple of days have been so fun. the shift key doesnt really work on this computer, so this entry is going to have to be in all small letters.

first day we got to hong kong, the city is intense, their are tall buildings everywhere. we ended up walking around the bank of china about ten times because the roads are so confusing. when we finally got to a market, we were so tired, shopping didnt really seem like an option.

the next day, my trip to bejing left in the morning, and we met a bunch of university students which was very fun. they showed us around the campus until we had to go back to the hotel and pass out from exhaustion. next we went to the great wall....amazing...my legs still hurt today from walking around a section of it. i didnt realize how out of shape i was, but it was so worth it.

i had a friend on the trip that has a friend going to school in bejing, so the next day we spent with him seeing the forbidden city and tia'anemen (sp?) square and of course the bar district. there are many stories, but i am beyond tired.

i know this was a very inadequate description of china, but i am very pressed for time...seems like that is the story of my life lately! i miss you all very much, i get very homesick when sailing, so all the emails and letters help very much.

Last day in Saigon.

2005-11-09T20:23:00.000-08:00

I got back on the ship around 9 am; Abby and Alex had gotten back from their trips the previous night so we decided to go to the Cu Chi Tunnels, underground system for the Viet Cong during the War. It was kind of awkward and sad learning about all of the ways the Vietnamese devised to kill Americans. When we came to the booby trap section of the tour, there was a mural on the back wall of Americans falling into these booby traps. They were all well constructed, but it was very hard looking at murals of Americans dying. We went through a tunnel that was made for tourists to get an idea of what the Viet Cong went through. I was so claustrophobic, I felt like I couldn’t breathe because you didn’t know where the end was, you were crawling underground, I couldn’t even see the person 6 inches in front of me and these were the bigger tunnels. The real ones had collapsed from weather and age; but they were considerably smaller, Viet Cong could only move around by doing the army crawl and would stay underneath for years at a time, only coming out during the night to set more booby traps. It was a very scary reality, but I am very glad I went.

The rest of the day was spent shopping; I used to get overwhelmed haggling prices with people, but now it is just a big game because I never really need the souvenir. So when I walk out of the store, they always chase after me with a lower price. Some vendors just follow you and keep dropping the price after you say that you aren’t even interested in their product…they don’t care, they assume if the price is low enough you will buy it anyway.

Overall, Vietnam was a great country to see…I would love to see more of the northern part, but since I have heard so much about the surrounding countries I think I will venture into new territory (Cambodia, Laos, Thailand) before I revisit Vietnam.

Nha Trang

2005-11-09T08:18:00.000-08:00

Well, there was success…I managed to make it (by train) to Nha Trang. When Ally and I boarded the train we were overcome with an uncomforting feeling…mostly because every single Vietnamese was starring at us…EYES GLUED to our American faces. We just sat down and tried to ignore it by talking amongst ourselves, but then I had to go to the bathroom. I don’t know if I have mentioned the bathroom situation in all of these countries. 4 words: Hole in the Ground. Luckily the train was above this and had westernized toilets, but they were overflowing with …I don’t want to know what…so as I was hovering, “water” was splashing up. EWWWW….8 hours later we were in Nha Trang.

There are motorbikes everywhere trying to give you a ride, we hopped on one and ended up at the Blue Sky Hotel. Our room was 4 flights of stair up, with all our stuff this felt like a lot more, but we sucked it up for the $4.00/night rate. We dropped off our stuff and ventured out into the city, there were lots of beaches and beautiful scenery. We passed a tour company and decided to go to the mud baths. Ooooo wee it felt good! That night we met lots of foreigners because this seemed to be backpacker’s paradise. When we got back to the hotel, we realized it was infested with ants and I woke up with bites all over my body.

The next day we booked a boat tour, we visited all of the surrounding islands, did a little snorkeling, and just hung out with everyone one the boat. It was fun, but a lot more “touristy/party-like” than I expected. We still got to see the little villages, floating houses, basket boats, rice patties, water buffalo and a few more interesting things. That night our hotel guide insisted on buying out train tickets for us back to Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City, so we gave him the money and told him we would be back to pick up the tickets.

The next couple hours were for dinner and filling time before we had to be at the train station. I found an internet/phone place and called, or a least tried to call, some people, that was pretty exciting. When we went back to the hotel, the guy who took our money wasn’t there, and only a guy who didn’t speak any English…figuresL We start getting mad, and he called the English speaking guy’s cell phone; he told Ally something had went wrong at the train station and we should just meet him there and he would give us the tickets.

We went to the station and got the tickets, and he took off. After he left, we found out that he bought the “economy” tickets; the one that breaks down all the time and is never on time. Naturally it got delayed 2 hours, 12:30 am was the new time. We finally left at 1 am…but our seats were woodened benches. I thought I was uncomfortable on the first train ride, it didn’t even compare to this. I literally thought I wasn’t going to make it. There was a pitcher sitting next to me that a family used to pee in…this was extreme. We were probably the only Americans who have ever taken this train. Now that I survived that, I feel as though I could survive anything.

Leah, congratulations on Cougar…I am sorry I am going to miss his graduation.

VIETNAM

2005-11-06T18:34:00.000-08:00

Hello communism! Well Ho Chi Minh city is very westernized like many of the other port cities I have been too. This is the first port that I had no idea who I was going to hang out with and/or what I was going to do because both Abby and Alex (my two bestfriends on the ship) were going on Semester at Sea sponsored trips.

Yesterday I went to Ben Thanh Market, which is ridiculously overcrowded and overwhelming. I couldnt believe how claustophobic I was, luckily I didnt have a spell and made it out alive. People grab your arms from all sides trying to get you to buy something. If you even remotely look interested in some of their merchandise, they hound at you to buy it. Good price, student discount, no problem and just looking are some of the common phrases these people have picked up, a lot of the time I am not even sure if they know what it means. When they say just looking to me, it usually means what are you going to buy. They also have every kind of discount here, after you start walking away without buying the item, they yell "i give you good price, good discount today." I have heard student discount, early morning discount, Sunday morning discount, I like you discount, American discount and many more.

So today a different friend and I decided to just try and go anywhere...we went to the train station and bought a ticket for $8 to Nha Trang. As far as we know it is a little resorty like, which is not what we intended to do, but since we decided too late, we dont have a lot of options. The train doesnt leave until 11pm so we decided to take a moto-bike back into town so we could use an internet cafe. Vietnam is crazy about moped/scooters...it is like their family vehicle, taxi, anything Americans can do in a car, they can do on a moped. Taking one as a taxi feels like being a bee in a swarm of bees because they all have that high pitched buzzing noise to them. The traffic laws in all the countries I have been to are completely absent. Cars, and mopeds in Vietnam's case, just go whenever they feel like it, but I havent seen an accident yet. I have really enjoyed my time in Vietnam so far.

Just in...a cruise line got attacked by pirates leaving Mombassa...I guess it is on the CNN news. We just missed it. Crazy how that happens.

Rumors?!

2005-11-02T20:06:00.000-08:00

So after this past weekend, there was a rumor going around that someone died on state street in Madison during Halloween?? It could be completely false, but I have no way of checking because the internet doesn’t work fast enough for me to look on any Madison newspapers. I hope everything is ok?! Someone email me to let me know, please...

So during the past week I have been on the ship on my way to Vietnam. Yesterday morning I woke up and during breakfast I had Thailand on my right and Malaysia on my left…then today I woke up and we are refueling the ship in Singapore. They actually had to stamp all of our passports because we are technically in the country, but we are not allowed to get off the ship.

Also yesterday I read this in the dean’s memo:

The REAL DEAL: Pirates still do exist, although they probably do not look like the ones we see in Hollywood movies. There are reports of pirating on the seas throughout the world, oftentimes when a ship is traveling close to land like in the Malacca Strait, which we are about to enter. Although the risk is low the ship does take precautions, like increasing our speed through the area of risk. Pirates are much more interested in cargo ships, not passenger ships.

I guess some students were worried that our ship was going to be taken over by pirates because the strait we were going through it known for being pirate infested waters…so they had to put a little memo in to ease the minds of some students.

The last exciting event happened last night…the crew talent show. It wasn’t as hilariously funny as the Olympic talent show, but still very entertaining to see our stewards and wait staff on stage singing and dancing!

Back on the ship again...

2005-10-30T06:52:00.000-08:00

I survived the 19 hour bus ride with ease. There was a little boy sitting in the seat in front of us that made time fly…I love making little kids laugh!

Here is a story that you may not think is amazing, but really touched Abby and I: A Burmese woman who spoke no English was sitting right next to us on the bus ride; she was in one of those seats that fold down into the aisle of the two sides. Abby and I had bought some chocolate cookies and offered her one, she declined. A couple hours later, when our entire group had gobbled up every ounce of food, she pulled out oranges for all 6 of us and wouldn’t let us say no. Then later, Aaron offered her a different kind of cookie that he bought at one of the stops, she declined again. A little bit later she pulled out an entire package of crackers and gave each of us a whole row because she could tell we were hungry again. I couldn’t stop smiling, not because she gave us some food, but because we could all tell that she didn’t have much money, like all of the other Burmese people, and she still shared with everyone expecting nothing in return.

Mom, remember the time Ben Shrank gave us free burritos at Chipolte, and you cried…it kind of felt like that.

We got back to the ship pretty smoothly only to find out that they are trying to conserve water and so they shut all water supply off except for the times of 6am-9am and 6pm-9pm. Naturally I got home at 9am with enough time to hear the announcement that all water was shut off. Not only had I not taken a good shower in 3 days, but I was not able to wash my face, brush my teeth or even flush the toilet. And you can only imagine what that was like after eating a ridiculous amount of Thai, Burmese, and Indian food…came out just the same as it went in. (sorry if that was inappropriate, it’s just the truth)

Now I am back on the ship and we have 5 days of class before we get to Vietnam (5 days there), then 2 days until Hong Kong (5 days there), then 3 days until Japan (4 days with Briana and Jim)…then 8 days to Hawaii, where we cross the International dateline…I will be living the day of November 29th twice…then my dream world is over. ::tear::

My last day in Inle Lake

2005-10-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we went on a boat tour of the lake, and went to markets, saw how all different kinds of things are made. The amazing thing about yesterday was that even making paper is so time consuming here, and then they sell it for what we would think was virtually nothing. To any american this life style would almost be like wasting time, but to them it is a way of life.

For example, making a scarf out of lotus: First you find the lotus stems, carefully break them in half, there are tiny spider-web like threads in each stem. They roll thousands of these threads together and then weave them together on a hand-made loom out of bamboo. This takes weeks if not months to finish a simple hankerchief, then they turn around and sell it to tourists for less than $10 sometimes, and think they really riped the tourist off.

Paper making is rough too...they take the insides of a mulberry (not for sure this is the right name) tree, they cook it on boiling water for 8 hours, then pound it with a mallet for 20 minutes. Then they ball this much up and get it wet. Then they spread it out in this grid and let it soak and settle before pulling the grid up and letting it sun dry.

Well the rest of the day was spent visiting other places on the lake and then after being out for a about 8 hours, we headed back to our hotel to rest. We ate dinner at this cute little restaurant that has no meaning of sanitation. There were cats wandering around, in and out of the kitchen (the main reason I didn't try the meat!), and I ordered crepes, five minutes later the cook came into the main room and started rolling dough on one of the table tops. EEkkk and then he took it back in the kitched....5 minutes later, there was my food. It was really good after I stopped thinking of how many dirty hands had helped in making this.

This morning we are getting on another 18 hour bus ride back to Yangon, then hanging out there for the day and then we have to be back on the ship by 9 pm tonight!

Burma (Myanmar)

2005-10-27T05:40:00.000-07:00

Well we arrived in Myanmar on Tuesday, and the first day we went to the famed Shwe dagon Pagoda; it was so cool. You walk up and there are these huge "stupas," which are kinda of like pointed towers. The main one is covered in gold leafs with 20+ altars surrounding it. Right at the elevator a man asked us if we wanted him to be our tour guide...we asked how much, because in these countries you always have to negotiate prices first. He asked for 5,000 kwat, which is equivalent to a little less than $5.00. We agreed.

He was the best tour guide ever, he was so excited to tell us all about the religion of the buddha, and how he was once a monk because there are two times in your life that you can be a monk...age 9, and 19. He went all off on how the day of the week you were born on represents a certain animal. I looked up my birthday, and I was born on a Tuesday, which is represented by a lion and so we went my altar and since I am 21, I had to pour 21 cups of water on the little buddha statue, 1 cup on the big buddha, one on the post and lastly one on the lion in front of the altar. This is supposed to bring me lots of good luck.

We also banged the big huge bell three times...one for buddha, two for darma, three for the monks that live there. If you have time, you should really look this pagoda up online...it is in Yangon, Myanmar (Burma)...I think it would be cool to see a picture, just so you can have an idea of what I am talking about.

Well that same day, Abby and I decided to buy bus tickets to go to Inle Lake. We get to the bus yesterday and it was supposed to be the "express, air-conditioned bus." Oh no, things dont work that way here, which should have been expected. We get on this bus...which is made for really little people (All burmese are tiny) and Abby, being 6', didnt think that this bus ride was quite as cozy as all the little burmese people! Her legs definitely did not fit in the space for the 18 hour bus ride. It was painful for me to watch. Also on the bus, a movie came on at the front of the bus...it was Sahara in english...this bus was filled with Burmese monks, peasants, a guy from the Czech Republic, a woman from Norway, Japanese, and us Americans...and the movie was in English. I never realized how universal English actually is. They had some music on the bus as well...the begining of one of Coldplay's songs came on, and then they started singing, it was translated into burmese. All I could do was laugh.

Keep in mind that Inle Lake is about 400 miles outside of Yangon...yes it still took us 18 hours to get here because the roads are insanely bad, not to mention we had to stop for about 15 military check points. It was quite the adventure. We got here and found a cute hotel. Today we went on a guided hike from about 10 am to 6 pm, I didnt think I was going to make it. We got to the top of the hill and went into a hut on stilts and they made us lunch. There were mini bananas, cookies, noodles with vegtables all cooked on their little fire stove. We also watched how they dry leaves to wrap tobacco in for cigars. They gave each of us a cigar to smoke too! After lunch we walked up to the primary school and all the little school children loved us. We sang the ABC's to them, and they just laughed at us; it was so fun. This whole day including the guide, lunch, cigar, tea, and everything costs $3.25! They love american money.

I love Burma! It is totally and completely not what I expected! Tomorrow I am going in a motor boat (long skinny boat with a little motor) with the man from the Czech Republic and the woman from Norway that we met around the lake. The markets in this town are actually located on the lake, along with some monastaries, silk factory and I dont know what else.

Our bus back to Yangon leaves Saturday at noon. Then I will be back in Yangon for the last day here. Before I know it, I will be on my way to Vietnam!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLAKE!!!

ps Jessin, I dont know if you read this or not, but sorry I didnt send you an email or a card or anything for your birthday...I dont know your address:( I tried calling a couple of times, but it wouldnt go through. I hope you had the best 21st birthday ever...love you lots, amy

Reality at my door….India

2005-10-23T02:07:00.000-07:00

I hope I can accurately describe India as I saw it.

First, before we even got to India, the crew started to prepare for the “dirty” city by covering all of the carpet and stairs with cardboard and white plastic…I had no idea what to expect.

My day started with a bus ride to the airport, immediately outside the bus was a little boy on crutches with one leg missing and toes missing on the only foot he had, begging for money. They told us at pre-port NEVER give to the beggars; it causes more harm than good. So we all had to completely ignore him; not even acknowledging that he was a human being, much less just a little boy. I couldn’t stand it, but it only got worse.

The security check point came next, one at a time all of the women had to go behind a curtain to get checked for weapons and such. The men got checked just like in a normal airport with the metal detector and whatnot.

We arrived at Hotel Ashok in New Delhi pretty late and had a 4 am wake up call to make it out way, by train, to the Taj Mahal in Agra. Before entering the designated area, the streets are jam packed with people selling little trinkets, there was one boy that seemed to think he was going to get money out of me. He followed me all the way to the Taj and then when I came out, he was there waiting trying to sell me earrings and key chains. He didn’t get the point that I just didn’t want any of it. There were stray dogs everywhere, one walked past me and had a bite taken out of its shoulder, there were maggots, fleas in the infected wound and ewww, I can’t even think about it. There were also deformed people everywhere.

Short story: In between every port, we have an interport lecturer and an interport student come aboard. The lecturer from India, Professor Annakutty Findeis, gave a speech in my Anthropology class right before we got to India and she said that many poor mothers will hurt their own children (purposefully deform them) so when they go to tourists begging for money they show their disfigured children and generally make more money.

Some of these people were crawling on the ground because their limbs were bent in such unimaginable ways. I feel like I couldn’t even classify them as humans…just think about how lucky we are to have been born in the United States. Everyone in India asks where we are from, and when I say the USA, most of them go off about how one day they are going to come to the United States and make real money and not have to worry every day about what they are going to feed their children.

Ok, back to my day…Taj Mahal…absolutely beautiful, I know everyone probably knows what it looks like, but here is a little background information. It is a 17th century mausoleum in white marble built by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his Queen Mumtaz Mahal. After it was built and her tomb was created inside of it, a replica was requested. Since the emperor didn’t want anything to compare to what he had built for his wife, he cut off the architect’s (who designed it) arms so he was unable to recreate the plans needed to construct it. Now both the tomb of his wife and himself are found inside. Fun fact: we couldn’t wear our shoes inside, so everyone had to walk around barefoot…ick!

Next we visited Agra Fort, which is a bunch of halls and palaces of the mughals. This fort was like a miniature city where the leader at the time would have a different room for each of his concubines (mistresses). The guy (I forgot his name) that lived in this particular fort wanted power, but he was third in line (after his father and older brother). So he killed his older brother and put his father in a closed cell with a few holes looking in the direction of the Taj Mahal because his father loved the view so much.

Then we loaded onto the bus and drove to Jaipur, “The Pink City.” This was about a 6 hour bus ride and so en route we say a lot of urban India. This country has sooo much poverty. People’s houses were built out of tarps and sticks, the babies never had diapers or underwear on, just their bare little bottoms. I just have to say there were so many times when I wanted to pick these little newborn babies up off the ground and take them with me. I couldn’t stand seeing them just laying there not knowing if they were dead or alive. And if these children get sick, they die…there isn’t an emergency room they can go to or even as much as a hospital. Urgh it is so frustrating that I don’t know how to help these people. It is not fair to these poor little babies.

In passing we saw cows, monkeys, camels, elephants, stray dogs and cats, lots of rodents…random mix huh?! Cows were everywhere because they are “holy,” and so even though the people were dying of starvation, the cows were always well fed and healthy looking. There is a law against killing cows…these cows walk the city streets, lay down in the middle of the busy highway, they are EVERYWHERE.

Back to Jaipur: the city was designed and built by the astronomer Prince Maharajah Jai Singh, who founded the city in the 1700s. Going into the city, there was a HUGE pink archway and then pretty much every building from then on was pink. That morning we went on an elephant ride up to Amber, the former capital, a fortress perched on a hill overlooking the desert plains of Rajasthan. I love elephant rides!!!! The fortress was like a huge maze (perfect for a good game of hide and go seek tag).

Next was a carpet and textile store. Carpet making is so intense; they tie every knot by hand on a huge weaver thing. There is a man behind reading off the colors and then the man tying each knot. That takes days of labor to make patterns and such, and then it is cleaned with water and a paddle since they don’t have vacuums. It is dried and trimmed to an even length, then a woman with good eyesight cuts out the mistakes. The fabrics that they have are all stamped with ink; these people work so hard and make no money for it.

And now…the markets…haggle, haggle, haggle is all I can say. I wish I was better at it, but I am going to work on it again tomorrow morning. We took a rick-shaw back to the hotel…it is a 3-wheeled moped type car. I couldn’t decide if our driver was drunk or crazy, probably both. Everything about him creeped me out, but so did a lot of other people there.

Most of the day today was spent traveling aside from a stop in Delhi to see the Gandhi museum. I went to his memorial, where he was killed. We also toured Delhi a little bit, and now I am back on the ship. One day in Chennai left and I will spend that in the markets since I haven’t really been shopping yet.

India is an amazing, but very different place. There is a certain, indescribable prestige about the women here. The women are always wearing saris (long, colorful shawls wrapped around their entire bodies) almost regardless of how poor they are; they always look elegant. It is hard for me to explain. I will try to do a better job when I get home.

Shopping in Chennai: Alex and I left at 9 am for the markets and we were told that the rick-shaw drivers do not listen to where you want to go, but take you where they want you to go. Having this knowledge we started bargaining for prices. We got down to 50 rupees, equivalent to about $1.15 to go to Spencer Market. Here is where the adventure of the day started…a friend of his (the driver) shimmied us over on his bicycle his “taxi,” super sketchy and I was starting to get a little paranoid. We finally get there and get in his rick-shaw, but when coming upon security he gets out and lets his friend drive, somehow skipping the security checkpoint. Then they start telling us that the market doesn’t open until 11 so we are going to do a little browsing at other places first. They take us to the expensive places, but they get paid by the owner to detour tourists to these places. We agreed to go to all of these places as long as we didn’t have to pay for the entire 2 hour long taxi ride. So the final agreement was that he could use us to make money by taking us to shops if our entire ride around the city was free…ok deal! After going to 6 different stores, they made 900 rupees or $20. Then we finally got to the market and started our shopping. Alex got ripped off big time, well everyone did, but we didn’t care because it was all in good fun.

Something kinda funny

2005-10-19T02:08:00.000-07:00

So I forgot to mention, the tie-breaker trivia question in one of the Olympic games was "What is the capitol of Wisconsin?" There are so many stereotypes about WI, for example, someone asked me, "Do you wear shoes in WI?" I simply walked away, I had no idea how to respond. Another one asked me where I was from, and I said WI, and she replied, "Yea, but what state?" These are smart people too...I didn't know WI was that much out of it.

Well my trip leaves in about 1/2 hour, so I have to go pack. I will write when I get back from the Taj Mahal.

We Placed in the Olympics!

2005-10-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

Last night was the talent show; I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. There is so much talent on this ship that I didn’t realize…a friend of my mine performed last and he did stand up comedy…better than what you see on television, no joke.

Today we had no school, instead we had a full day of events and for the first time it rained, and so I woke up to an announcement saying that water-balloon toss was canceled and everything else was pushed back ½ hour. My only event was canceled…Abby and I had been talking about it for so longL Since everything was so hectic, last minute I got thrown into the limbo. Naturally I would have rocked the house, but with the ship rocking so bad…I fell…it wasn’t really the ship’s fault, but it is my excuse for not placing in the top 3. Our sea ended up placing second out of eight which was totally unexpected and everyone was whooping and hollering. At the end of all events, the crew put out an entire table full of desserts and fruit, good ending to a great day!

Little dilemma: So about laundry…I have somehow missed the last three laundry days, which means I have only washed my clothes once in the beginning of the trip. Two days ago was a laundry day for us, but because they got so backed up, Armando (my steward) told me I won’t get my laundry back for another couple of days. You can imagine how much I smell by now and to top it all off I have been wearing the same outfit ever since we put laundry out and I have no other options until we get our laundry back. Hopefully it is before India.

Shipboard Life

2005-10-15T03:40:00.000-07:00

It is almost funny when I realize what I get excited about while between ports….for example, when we have grilled cheese or tacos for lunch OR when the internet is working faster than one page every 3 minutes (it’s slower than dial-up, which I didn’t think was possible). However most of my days are filled with eating outside on the deck, sleeping in my cave of a room (no porthole), going to class, working out, and doing school work (papers, reading, and tests). We have two different movies on every night, and they are always pretty good ones, so I watch a lot of movies too. Every night while on board, there are “community colleges” where students or faculty put on little classes. We get Dean’s memos daily; here is an example of part of one:

DEANS’ MEMO
Semester at Sea – Fall 2005

Friday, October 14, 2005 (A12)

0700-0830 Breakfast
0920-1035 Global Studies
1130-1330 Lunch
1730-1930 Dinner
1730 Baltic Sea Meeting – Union
1800 Mediterranean Sea Meeting – Classroom 9
1900 Yellow Sea Meeting – Union
1900 Halloween Meeting – Student Life Office
1900 Feminists@Sea Meeting – Classroom 8
1900 Vitamin Sea Meeting for Talent Show Idea #1 – Classroom 7
2000 Community College:
Session 1: Annie Cleveland, Faculty
Silk, the Queen of Textiles – Classroom 9
Session 2: Siwdiya Ravichandran and Mansai Subramaniam, Interport Students
High School and Collegiate Life in India – Classroom 8
Session 3: Darcy Kramer, Student – Classroom 1
Global Body Art and Modern Application Techniques (Bring your own makeup)
2000 Documentary film: Bandit Queen Ch. 2
2100 Feature film: Aparijito Ch. 3
2100-2300 Karaoke – Union
2100 Bering Sea Meeting – Deck 6 Garden Lounge
2100-2200 An Evening of the Sacred – Classroom 8
2100 Exploring Investment Possibilities (EIP) – Classroom 1
2115 Pop Culture films: The Bourne Supremacy Ch. 5; Eurotrip Ch. 6
2200 “No Silence Can Be Heard” Meeting – Classroom 4

Then there are announcements after the schedule, here is one you might find kind of funny, but something that is brought up often:

Get Your Pepto-Bismol Now! Traveler’s diarrhea has been a big problem in India on past SAS trips. Taking two Pepto-Bismol tablets before each meal and before bed can help prevent traveler’s diarrhea (do not take it within two hours of taking Doxycycline). You can purchase a box of 30 tablets for $6 in the clinic. Avoid the last-minute rush and get your Pepto-Bismol now! Clinic hours are 0800-0900 and 1700-1800.

Self-Treatment of Travelers Diarrhea: If you brought along Ciprofloxacin or Azithromycin for self-treatment of traveler’s diarrhea, be sure to take it with you if you are taking a long trip in India. If you want to buy Ciprofloxacin for this purpose, it is available in the clinic for $34.50 (1 tablet twice a day for 3 days). It may also be useful in Myanmar, Vietnam and Cambodia.

They are fun to read.

Last night there was a halo around the moon, not sure exactly why, but I was told that ice crystals were in the air and they were at just the right angle reflecting the light from the moon down to us. Apparently it only happens in the winter, so this was something quite unexpected. Today, we have been rocking side to side at a steady pace…plates slide off tables in the cafeteria, everyone runs into walls…when you look out the window for a second you will see all sky and then the next second, all ocean, the horizon just moves up and down from the top of the window to the bottom. Thank goodness I am used to the rocking, only on occasion does the window watching make me feel woozy. Since no one on the ship can get away, it has turned into a little bit of a soap opera…rumors spread FAST…quite entertaining if you ask me, but I don’t get mixed up in it all. I was never one much for drama.

The most recent news is that the “Olympics” start tonight. All 700 students are divided up into “seas” according to where you live. My roommate and I, and everyone living around us (on the fourth floor) are in the Bering Sea; it comes out to about 100 people. There are all sorts of events combining academics and athletics…tug of war, pictionary, trivia stuff…Abby and I are representing the water balloon toss. The prize for my sea winning is that we will be the first people let off the ship in San Diego, which would be ideal…I really want to win. It will all be decided in the next two days, tonight is the talent show. I am really excited to watch it, I have heard of some pretty funny things going on. We have a military chant, a song, a banner, a secret handshake, a mascot (polar bear) and face paint (all are going to put a polar bear print on their faces) for team support. The other teams don’t even compare. Wish me luck…Abby and I plan on dominating water balloon toss.

Now I have to go write some field papers and study for a couple midtermsL I have been procrastinating. Next stop is Chennai, IndiaJ I am going to see the Taj Mahal, and then travel to Japuir, “pink city,” by elephant…I’m so excited!!!!