Uganda Trips - 2007 - 2008

Saturday, July 26: A Ridiculous Day

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 01:17:00 +0000

We landed in Brussels early Saturday morning. With five hours until our next flight, we decided to leave the secure area of the airport and either take a taxi into town, or shop in the airport shops. All the Belgian Immigration lines were long, except for the one at the very end. We walked across the room to that line. We moved rapidly, but when a man in wheelchair was rolled up to the front of the line. The guard asked him a few questions then stamped him through. IN a minute, another wheelchair came, then another, then two kids travelling without adults, then a slew of teens. Every single person that joined the lines when we did beat us out by more than 10 minutes!

It as finally our turn. The guard looked at our tickets. “These are connecting tickets,” he said.
“Where do you go next?”

“Chicago, then on to Atlanta.”

“is Atlanta your final destination?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. I meant that would be the end of our flying.

“He flipped through each passport carefully and asked a few more questions.

“You are transients, “ he said in a not very friendly voice. “You leave from upstairs.” He pushed our passports back ot us.

“You mean we have to go back”

“The flight leaves from upstairs,” he said. “Thank you.” He motioned for the next people in line to step forward. We turned around and retraced our steps past the long immigration lines.
We had to go through another checkpoint in order to go upstairs. We went through the metal detectors, and I sat mine off. A guard made me step aside. He searched me very carefully. His wand went off at my billfold. He looked at it, then finished searching me.

“Did the magnetic strip on my credit card set it off?” I asked. The man ignored me and started checking my ankles and shoes. I waited until he was finished and repeated my question a little louder. He nodded without acknowledging my question in any other way. So now I know!

We knew that there was nothing at all upstairs, so we went toward a duty free store. There was an entire mini-mall around the corner! We went to a bar and had a Belgian Waffle and real coffee! We still had a lot of time, so I went to a bookstore. It wa very strange. There were signs saying “Best Seelers’ and “Mysteries” and “Romance,” but the books were n French or German! There were a few English title, but they were very expensive (as in $45 for an old best seller!)
I found Lisa sitting under a skylight. There was enough sun coming through to feel warm. We went into the duty free shop and bought chocolate for my office, for our house sitter, and for the kennel. I bought Lisa chocolate and she bought me a yellow tie with giraffes.

After shopping, we went upstairs. We met a young woman in a Vanderbilt sweatshirt, and we talked about Uganda for more than an hour. A woman in an American Airlines uniform came by. She looked very carefully at every person sitting in the waiting area. A moment later, she returned. They had just announced final boarding for a flight to Kenya. “Are you going to Kenya?” asked the woman.

“No, Chicago,” I said.

“Well what are you doing here? You must go to gate 1.”

“The agent told us Gate 4.”

“I announced the change. You should have been listening. Your flight will leave very soon from gate 1. Would you like to be on it?”

We gathered our carry-ons and hurried down the corridor to Gate 1. There was a large sign on it telling all American Airlines customers to go there for clearance. We got in another long line and waited as each and every passenger was asked a series of questions. When we were cleared, we were sent to another line to get a new boarding pass. Then we waited in a confused line for our flight to be called.

I became dizzy standing in the crowd, so I asked to board early. I was allowed to board with the Platinum Fliers. We had seats across the aisle from one another. I sat down and a man soon asked me to let him into the window seat. “Would you mind to swap seats with my wife?” I asked.

“Not at all,” said the man. So we were able to sit together on this flight, too!

We were back in 767 land, so there was no leg room. There was also no personal video players, but we were sitting close enough to the screen to see if we wanted to watch. They announced a charge for headset rental, but Lisa had brought two sets of ear buds from home. We were all set, but there was nothing on! Despite the tight legroom, I soon fell asleep in spite of myself.
We had a bumpy flight most of the way to Chicago, but we arrived safely and on time.

We had less than 2 hours for the next connection, and this is no fun when you’re very tired. We started walking down an incredibly long corridor, but a man in a golf cart picked us up and drove us to Immigration. We were cleared through without question. Next we had to claim our bags. We found two free carts and our bags were soon there. We rolled the carts to Customs where another busy guard seemed only interested in whether we were transporting fruits or vegetables. Then we rechecked our bags. A woman looked at our tickets. “I think there will be time to get your bags to your airplane,” she said. “Just leave them here and I’ll put them on the belt to your plane.”

I thanked the lady. It was 30 minutes later when I realized she was expecting a tip!!
With bags secure, we only had to get ourselves to the plane. We had to clear a very busy security checkpoint, but we both made it without a problem. We arrived at our gate with about 10 minutes until boarding!

The flight was very easy and we arrived 20 minutes early in Atlanta. I called Jim Fulmer and he said they were there. He wanted to meet us at departures where he’d dropped us off. I told him to go to Arrivals instead. Our bags were slow arriving, but they did make Iit in good shape. We put our bags on a $3 cart and we walked out into the hall. There was an escalator with a sign saying you couldn’t take luggage carts up. We boarded the elevator. Our only option was to ride to the Departure level. I called Jim and he and Karen picked us up in a few minutes.
We managed to stay awake until we stopped for dinner at a Cracker Barrel somewhere north of Atlanta. The vegetables tasted wonderful!

Lisa began dozing soon after we ate, but I was able to keep talking until Jim pulled us into our driveway. They unloaded the bags for us, then left us to go to sleep. The lizard and rabbit were fine and the rabbit seemed glad to see us. Buster was sitting in his chair by the piano. He didn’t have much to say and Jelly remained hidden until we were ready to turn the lights out. Our house looked great.

And it was great to be home!

Looking at true clock hours, removing all the time changes and focusing on the time of our trip, I found that it was 48 hours from the time we awoke at Kolping House until we walked through the door of our house. We had a few cat naps, but we were actually travelling for two full days!

Friday, July 25: So Many Goodbyes

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 01:05:00 +0000

I awoke at 5:00 sharp and Lisa woke up with the alarm a half hour later. Vincent wanted us on our way by 8:30. We got dressed and went to the dining room for a last breakfast. We were alone in the dining room. We had scrambled eggs, toast, marmalade, and pineapple. The only way to make it any better would be real coffee!

After breakfast, I asked to see the bill. It was a bit less than I expected – a little lower than the posted rate and 20% cheaper than the rate the front desk gave me a few nights earlier. I asked for the envelope I had stored in the safe. The clerk retrieved it in a flash. All the money was there.

Vincent, Joseph, and Grace arrived right on time. I asked them to take me to exchange money and Vincent maneuvered us through the rush hour traffic to the hotel downtown. I exchanged a lot of money, but this place gave me 50,000 shilling notes, so I was able to get it all in my billfold. We went back to the Kolping House and quickly loaded the van. I returned to the front desk and paid the bill. I had also completed a survey where I had praised the place in general, but suggested they needed Internet access, dependable power, and a system that allowed food delivery in less than 2 hours. The desk clerk read the survey as I counted out the money. "Sir, does this mean we would be better if we did these things?

"Yes," I said. "We really enjoyed our stay here, but these things would make it better."

"We will try to do them, sir!"

I went back to the room to add to the tip for the cleaning crew. We decided early in the trip to put our pocket change in a container for the cleaning folks. I added a few thousand shillings to the mix and made a sign thanking them for their work. While our team carried our bags to the van, I stopped at the desk and left a tip for the dining room staff.

Vincent had a lead on Babirye Phiona (Bill). We hurried into Ntinda and entered the unpaved, rutted maze of poverty. We drove to a house we hadn't visited before. Joseph jumped out, and soon returned with a very nervous Phiona. She had been very sick when the term started and had missed several weeks. She was waiting to return to school in January. She seemed determined to return to school, so we gave her a blanket and moved on.

I took a nap as we road through the city. That was the biggest change this trip. I simply had to sleep between stops or I couldn't keep going. So I awoke on a dirt road that I had never seen. We were away from the city because the land around us was vacant. We passed a sugar cane plantation and two areas that had been cleared for planting. I finally asked Vincent where we were. I had told him about a water fall off Jinja Road. He had followed the directions in the book.
There were few walkers on this road. At times, trees grew together above us in a living canopy of green.

We turned off the main road, then turned again at a sign. There was a huge gate (closed) with three men watching it. One came to the window. I counted out the entry fee (about $5 for all of us). The man wanted to be our guide, but Vincent firmly told him we didn't need a guide. Vincent parked in the empty parking lot. The waterfall was partly visible from the lot. We walked toward it, then onto a bridge that crossed to the other side of the stream (which was called a river). This is one of the stranger things I've seen in Uganda. There is heavy jungle growth on either side of the river – tall trees reaching up to grab their share of the sun with thick undergrowth and smaller trees below. There is a break in the forest for the river, then the river tumbles off an embankment to create the fall. A few large rocks stood in the path of the fall, and water ricocheted off these before coming to rest in a pool. There was a lot of water flowing down the fall, the result of the rains we'd seen over the last few days.

We walked across the stream on steady bridge. We stopped several times to make pictures of the fall. When we reached the other side, everyone wanted their picture made with the waterfall behind. Our non-guide followed us and watched our every move, but he never mentioned guiding again.

There was a trail to the top of the fall, but we didn't have time for that. We turned and started back across the bridge. When we turned we could see down river. The pool from the fall extended beyond our bridge. At its end, the pool emptied into two channels: one flowed to the right and the other to the left. There was an island between the two channels. The island was covered in very dense grass, but trees and undergrowth had been cleared. As we looked at the two channels and the island, we realized that downstream was as interesting as the waterfall!
A few more quick pictures and it was time to go.

We got in the van and Vincent retraced his route to Jinja Road. We had two last things to do before we caught our plane. One was to eat a good lunch somewhere. The other was interesting. Lisa wanted to talk with the headmistress at Kalinabari Primary School, a government owned school where many of our students attend. Her principal was preparing a grant which involved an exchange of best teaching practices with a foreign school. Vincent promised to take us to the school, but he simply did not. I have no idea what this was about. He kept saying he would call and make the appointment, but when we reached town, he turned away onto Entebbe Road. In 45 minutes, we were in Entebbe town.

I found a Chinese restaurant in the guide book and gave the address to Vincent. It wasn't a real address, just "old Entebbe." We looked for a few minutes, then Vincent asked for directions from a police officer. We still couldn't find the restaurant, so Vincent stopped a guy on a bicycle. The man pointed in the direction we had come. Vincent turned the van around. From this direction, the sign on the restaurant was clearly visible. We pulled throubh the gate and parked. We were greeted by a puppy. Michael tried to get the puppy to let him pet it, but the dog was afraid.

We took a large table in the garden. The waiter took our order, and the soup arrived about 20 minutes later. We each got ½ an egg roll, then the entrees. The food was quite good!
Our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:40, so we wanted to be at the airport by 5:30. We finished lunch at 4:50. Lisa and I went to the restroom to change into flying clothes (that is, something that wasn't dust covered and smelly). The restrooms were very odd. There was a room with a toilet in it and a room next door with a sink and a bath tub! Lisa went in the toilet side and I went in the bathtub side. Clothes were hanging from a line over the tub. This was a guesthouse as well as a restaurant, and the bathrooms were for both restaurant guests and guesthouse guests.

All changed, we were ready to go. No one spoke at all as we drove to the airport. We stopped while a soldier used a mirror to check out the chassis of the van, then we stopped again to pay for parking. Vincent drove through the lot and up to the departure level. We quickly unloaded the van and put our four suitcases on a free cart. Our friends could hardly look at us as we walked to the airport door. They insisted on pushing the cart and carrying our carry on bags. When w e reached the door, we found a long line of teen girls. I asked the guard if we needed to wait in this line. He opened the exit door and let us enter. Our team watched us go through the door. When we turned to look again, they were gone.

We walked through a door and into the area where bags are x-rayed. We unloaded our cart and we had to leave it. Lisa went through the metal detector first and she was cleared to go. She hurried to the end of the room and got another cart while I walked over to a table with my carry-on bag, a large back pack. The guard carrying my bag pointed to it, "Is okay?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

The man opened a section of my pack. I had a set of colored pens (one each of black, blue, green, and red). The man pointed to the pens. "These are very nice pens."

"Uhh, well thank you," I said.

The man looked me straight in the eye. "I want one."

I fumbled through the bag and found a second green pen. I gave him the green pen. He didn't say a word. He patted down my pack and half way opened another compartment, then he handed the bag to me and indicated that I could go.

This was another first. I had heard that the border folks could be a bit unusual in their ways of doing things. I never expected to have to use a pen to bribe one in order to get my pack back!
Immigration was really backed up. WE got in a line and waited patiently as we didn't move. When few finally inched our way up to the window, we could see that the two immigration officers were talking and laughing and occasionally taking time off from their tale telling to look a t a passport or visa! We finally passed through without any questions.
We shopped a bit at the book store and souvenir shop I got a book that I'd seen two trips ago. We called both sets of parents to tell them we were leaving Uganda. We boarded on time and without incident.

The flight was unremarkable except that it was comfortable. The Airbus jet has more leg room than a 767, just enough to make a huge difference for me. I was actually able to doze a bit!

Thursday, July 24:Chimps

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 02:49:00 +0000

Vincent arrived a few minutes before 7:00. We were ready for him! There was no breakfast available this early, so we ate David's energy bars as we rode. He left enough for Grace and Vincent, too. There was a bit of traffic, but we were going against it for the most part. We arrived at Entebbe about 8:10. The coffee shop where we were to meet the tour was out of milk so they were selling only black coffee! I saw a cup go by. It was the traditional Ugandan brew: half a cup of water and half a cup of Nescafe!

I remembered that there is another coffee shop inside the zoo and I had seen a couple of people go through the main zoo gate (the ticket people weren't there yet). I watched for several minutes, but none of the people came back out. So I decided they must be drinking coffee at the other shop which had obviously remembered to buy milk. I walked through the first zoo gate and met a guard with an ancient rifle at the second one. "Hello," I said.

"Hello," said the guard.

"How are you?"

"I am fine, sir, how are you?"

"I am fine. Do you know if the coffee shop by the lake is open?"

"Is open," said the guard. He barely raised his head to talk to me.

"Can I come in and get some coffee?"

He looked at me for a minute from beneath his baseball cap. "Is okay."

I hurried into the zoo and walked about four blocks to the coffee shop. It was closed, though there was music coming from somewhere inside the kitchen. I walked back to the entry gate. The guard looked up at me. "So, it was open?"

"No."

He smiled and nodded to me. Exhausted by the effort, he lowered his head and appeared to instantly fall asleep.

I took a seat at the outside coffee shop and, after a careful greeting of the woman serving coffee, I asked about the trip. She didn't know anything at all. "How about the coffee shop inside the zoo?" I asked.

"Is open," she said.

"And do they have milk?"

"They have." I thanked her.

A few seconds later, a woman came up. "Are you scheduled for the Ngambe Island trip/"

"Yes, we are," I said. I proceeded to spell my name so that she could check me off her list, but the woman who took the reservation didn't get a single letter from my last name right! But when this woman saw that I had US dollars, her concern about whether I was the person she was looking for vanished!

The woman walked to the other tables and checked off names. "Everyone, follow me down to the boat!" said the woman after she collected payment from the last three customers, three young British ladies. She took off across the courtyard of the zoo, through the gate, across the street, across a parking lot, down a steep embankment, across another parking lot, and onto a dock where two pontoon boats were tied side by side. The woman all but flew: she was across the first parking lot before we left our seats. We hurried after her as fast the cane would go. When we got to the dock there were about 30 people lined up by the closest boat. The three British girls walked up to our guide and they talked for a minute. They turned and walked away. As they passed, one of them said, "But it was worth a try, wasn't it? We're out nothing. We thought we were going out at 2:00 and we said if this worked, It would be better. But we're no worse off than we thought, are we?" Her companions discussed their situation as they walked away. There seemed to be a consensus that the 2:00 boat would work just fine.

The people at the front of the cue climbed into the nearest boat. "Please continue to the other boat," shouted our guide. Our group did as they were instructed until the boat was full. Suddenly, our guide ran past us, off the dock, and into the lower parking lot. She caught up with the British girls as they were pulling out of their parking place. In a few minutes, she returned with all three of the girls following closely behind. They boarded the boat in front of us.

In fact, we were the last to board. The boat's crew watched me very carefully as I stepped down onto the boat. When I started to sit down, one of the crew touched my arm. He pointed to a spot where I could sit on the side of the wooden box that held life preservers. The advantage of the place he indicated was that I could lean my back against the vertical wall that led up to the area from which our captain steered. Grace sat a little forward of me. She had her feet and both arms wrapped around one of the poles that supported the tarp over the area where the passengers sat. She didn't turn lose of the pole for a second on the entire trip to the island. Vincent sat beside me with his back against the wall. He had his Uganda Children's Project hat pulled down to his nose so we couldn't see his eyes. He appeared to be hiding his eyes so we couldn't see how scared he was, praying, or sleeping. Grace and Vincent were the only two black people on the boat, except for the captain and an assistant. And although Vincent had been on a row boat once, neither had been on a motor boat before. And neither could swim. They both tied their life preservers around them so tightly I'm not sure how they breathed.

The outside boat pulled away from the dock first, and we followed a few seconds later. The boat had quiet an engine - we flew across the choppy morning surface of Lake Victoria. The sky was very dark to the south and east, the very direction we were headed. Between the wind and the waves, a lot of water washed over the side of the boat. Every drop of it hit the leg of my pants, my face, or one of my arms. I was soaked in a matter of a few minutes. The captain stopped the boat and he and his deck hand walked to the opposite side of the boat. They untied cords which secured a heavy tarp to the overhead railing of the ship and let the tarp fall to the surface of the boat. They secured the tarps to short poles mounted in the floor of the boat. I moved my legs as they came past me so that they would have room to get down our tarp. But the captain started up again. He didn't touch the tarp on our side, and I was soon even wetter than before!

Several small islands sprang up before us as we continued across the lake. There was a long stretch of shoreline visible to our right. To our left, Lake Victoria opened up into a limitless sea. After about 35 minutes, we could see that the captain was locked in on a particular island which grew steadily larger as we approached. It was a relatively flat island, covered in trees and low brush. As we drew nearer, we saw a small dock. The other boat had beaten us, so its captain tied it to the dock. We attached ourselves to our sister vessel. As we walked across their boat to the dock, we heard chimps screaming in the jungle ahead. From the end of the dock, we crossed a narrow beach. We followed a slow sandy trail passed a sign welcoming us to Ngambe Island Chimpanzee Sanctuary and on to a small hut where various souvenirs were displayed. As soon as everyone was there, a short young round man welcomed us and told us to go to the dining hut at 10:00. He also told us about the souvenirs in this shop and the availability of sodas. He had free coffee, or rather he had fairly hot water and Nescafe. By controlling the coffee:water ratio, I produced a mixture that was a little better than drinkable.

Lisa and I walked a short distance to a raised platform. Instead of the unrestricted view of the gorgeous lake that we were expecting, we found that we were looking directly into scrub brush. A troupe of brilliant yellow weaver birds darted into an out of their nests in one tree. There were a number of other birds in the surrounding trees. A series of large tents stood beside us. Overnight visitors lived in these tents. We sipped our Nescafe while we looked over the island from our post on the platform. By the time we'd finished our coffee, it was time to go to the dining tent.

We found a seat in the dining tent and listened as our guide gave us a history of the island. The sanctuary was 11 years old. It's purpose was to rescue chimps that were being mistreated or that had become behavior problems for their owners. He also explained the feeding process and what we might expect to see. As he spoke, we heard chimps screeching in the trees. When 11:00 came, he led us along a path which continued to rise slowly. We were soon walking beside a very sturdy metal fence which our guide told us was electrified by a solar power station.

We soon came to a flight of stairs which led to a long platform. Fear of shock kept the chimps well away from the electrified fence itself, but they stood at an invisible line that they knew was safe. A second platform rose above the first. Looking through the electric fence, we could see a few chimps watching us from their positions in jungle undergrowth. After a few minutes, two men came out carrying very large containers of assorted fruit. Lisa and I decided to climb up to the second platform in order to get better pictures of the chimps. The men split up with one at each end of the long platform. They began flinging fruit over the fence. The chimps came running as soon as they heard the fruit hitting the jungle floor.

There were 44 total chimps in the refuge. All but one of the chimps was a rescue from owners who had taken them as pets. They were cute and adorable for about seven years. Then, they were suddenly too large to manage. This refuge was there to take them in. There was one other chimp. She was called Surprise. It seems that the female chimps were all given birth control implants. This prevented all the monkeys from becoming pregnant, except for this mother of Surprise. For reasons no one understands, she became pregnant several years ago.

Each of the 44 chimps made an appearance. Some ran up, grabbed food, and ran into the trees. Others stood and waited for food to be thrown to them. The boss chimp ran around scaring off all the chimps he didn't want to eat. He looked really rugged because he had a huge scar on his forehead, the result of an earlier fight. The younger chimps played, chasing each other and turning somersaults. One gray haired old guy, a former boss, seemed to be very easy going. He walked near the fence and stood there. Some of the other chimps took his food at first, but by waiting patiently, he got what he came for.

After the food was gone, we walked down to the first level. There was a group of chimps that we could barely see from our post, so we hurried down the platform to watch the final pieces of fruit fly over the fence to the waiting crew. When the food was gone, we walked down to the ground level. A chimp was standing on the other side of the fence looking at us. We stopped to see what he was up to. A piece of fruit had somehow ended up under the bottom wire of the electric fence. This chimp had a long stick, but it wasn't long enough to safely reach the fruit. So he had pushed a shorter stick through the fence and he was using his long piece of wood to move the shorter one. His plan was to use the two sticks together to bring the fruit closer. His plan wasn't working because he couldn't get enough force from his stick to the shorter one to move the fruit more than an inch or two. We left him there working for the fruit, and walked back to the dining area where we started. Our guide announced that it was time to leave. I walked down to the beach and took more pictures of the birds coming by.

Lisa, Grace and Vincent soon came to the beach. We followed the dock to our boat. Since it was closest to the dock, passengers for the other boat had to climb over ours to board theirs. I took a seat a bit forward of the place I'd sat before. Vincent took my place and sort of stretched out. He was either praying or sleeping in no time. Grace retained her death grip on the support pole for the tarp.

No one said much as we road back to the zoo. We made very good time, and we managed to avoid the storms that seemed to be around us. We hurried to the van to get out of the sticky afternoon sun. Vincent tried to start the van, but it wouldn't move. He jumped down from the van, and in seconds, a crowd of men and women, came from everywhere and began pushing us. Some of the pushers were drivers of other vehicles parked in the lot. Women passing by took the loads off their heads and pushed. The parking lot attendant joined in. They pushed and pushed and pushed. Vincent popped the clutch several times, but it was no good. The van wouldn't start.

Several pushers left us and went on about their business, but within a few minutes, they were replaced by others. These took up the fight, pushing and pushing with all their might, but the van wouldn't start. One of the men spoke to Vincent for a minute. Vincent and Grace got out and joined the pushers. A large man squeezed himself in behind the steering wheel. As everyone else pushed, our new driver did exactly as Vincent had been doing. The result was the same – we ended up at the end of the parking lot and we were still stalled.

On an earlier trip, Dan said that insanity is doing exactly the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. (These words of wisdom escaped his lips as we sat in our hotel room at the Hotel Africana watching a man enter the same string of letters into Dan's laptop over and over and over. He received the same error message each time, but that didn't slow him down at all. He kept trying!) I was glad Dan wasn't there to watch as we were pushed back and forth in the parking lot, Vincent popping the clutch every few seconds. Each time nothing happened except the people pushing crashed into the van it had become a brick wall every time Vincent popped clutch.

A group with two ladies and an older Muslim man in cap and robe gave way for two large Ugandan men. They spoke with Vincent for a minute then pushed us backwards in the parking lot so that they could get up a good head of steam going forward. The Muslim man rejoined us as the pushing began. We started to build speed, a bit faster, the end of the lot was coming up. . .

And Vincent popped the clutch. We started instantly! Vincent put the van in neutral and jumped out. He handed 5,000 shillings (a little over $3) to one of the men and indicated that it was for everyone. He got back in the van, and we drove happily away. We went back to Kolping House without further incident. I changed shirts and gathered up my notes and we were off to church. I only spoke for 30 minutes, then there were questions for well over an hour. Everyone seemed so excited to try budgeting. Earlier, I had sent Michael into town to buy small note books for everyone. I passed them out along with instructions about how to record expenditures and receipts. It was like Christmas in July! They couldn't wait to start.

Everyone was tired, but Vincent was more than ready to take us somewhere to eat. Indian is his favorite, and we found a great place. We returned to the guesthouse a little before 10:00. Our new friend from Rwanda was sitting in the restaurant. We sat down and talked with him a bit. He is very excited about the rebuilding going on in his country. His attitude was very interesting. He basically told us that we should be very careful in trusting Ugandans because they would cheat in business. Rwandans, he said, were very different. He even had an investment idea which involved opening a bakery in Uganda using the cheap labor to produce world-class baked goods. "I would do this only to help the unemployed people in Uganda. There are so many," he said.

He followed us to our room and asked us to wait while he got his camera. He wanted a picture with me, then one with Lisa. He took my email address and promised he would write. I hope he does!

Wednesday, July 23: Being Where You’re Supposed to Be!

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 03:32:00 +0000

Our plans to visit a national park were officially changed. Even after more than $200 in repairs, the van wasn't reliable enough to begin a 4+ hour drive. And Agatha's grandmother died, so Vincent needed to be at home. So Vincent came to get us at 8:30. We still didn't know for sure whether anyone would come to hear my budgeting seminar, but we committed to be there at 5:00.

The number of kids we still needed to see was down to a small handful. We wanted to find Babirye Phiona (Bill) first. She was sick at the start of the term and by the time she was better, she'd missed a lot of school. The headmaster called Vincent and told him since this was her P7 year and she would have to take a test at the end, Phiona needed to wait and come back next year. But Vincent hadn't seen her since, so we wanted to make sure all was well. Vincent heard that her brother worked at a car wash in Ntinda, so we went there first. The car wash was at the back of a large lot. Several vans were sitting in the lot and two teams of men were washing vans in the back corner of the lot. A small restaurant with tables under a tarp stood along one side of the lot. While we were waiting on Vincent, a young woman came out of the restaurant and all but ran to the van. It was Nabwire Juliet (Martha). We met Nabwire when she was in S5. Her father had just died and her mother was already dead. Her grandmother had taken her in, but there was no money for school fees. Martha picked up the fees and Nabwire didn't miss a day of school. When she completed S6, she asked to go to the equivalent of a community college to get a certificate in counseling. She completed her certificate last year and although she hasn't yet found a job in her field, she is doing well as the assistant manager of this restaurant. She was very happy to see us, and very appreciative of the help she'd received.

Vincent returned before Nabwire left. They talked for a few minutes, then Vincent climbed in the van and we pulled away. The man we wanted was very busy cleaning a van for a funeral home so he asked Vincent to come back in about an hour. Surrey High School was close by. We stopped to make sure that Esther was doing as she had promised. Grace checked with the headmaster. Esther had been at school every day that week.

Phiona's brother was almost ready when we went back to the car wash. He started to the car, but Vincent made him go inside and change out of his work clothes before he got in the van. He came out a few minutes later, grumbling under his breath in Luganda. He directed Vincent a few blocks up the main road, then we turned and again onto a narrow dirt road which paralleled the main road. We stopped in front of a vegetable stand and Vincent and the boy jumped out of the van. In a few minutes, Vincent returned with a young woman. They both got into the van. We drove for about five minutes, then the woman and Grace got out. They were gone for about ten minutes, then returned without Phiona. We took the woman back to the vegetable stand, but we didn't see Phiona's brother again. Apparently, we had made the boy leave work, change clothes, then direct us to the house. And for all that, he got to walk back to work!

We dropped Grace at the church so that she could follow up on a couple of fee issues from the second term payment. Vincent drove us back to the general area where we'd looked for Phiona. Our target this time was Nampeera Moreen (Jessica). Vincent had talked to everyone that morning and Nampeera's sister told him the girl was at school, while the school said it hadn't seen her since Monday. Vincent parked on the side of a narrow dirt road and jumped out. He disappeared around a high wall. He returned alone after ten minutes. "She is hiding!" he said. We went back to the church and picked up Grace.

It is a long drive from Ntinda to Trinity College. Namale Rebecca (Bruce and Nancy) just started this school this year. This is a great girl's school, though it is expensive. It is the school Monique chose for Phoebe, her own daughter, who has done very well in her senior secondary years. But there was a problem: this school had very strict visiting rules. For us to see one of their students, we had to have a letter from the parents giving us permission to see the child. Without that letter, we couldn't get passed the large, unfriendly gate guard. We didn't have such a letter, so we drove all the way out to Trinity not knowing whether we would get to see the girl.

The college is surrounded by a high brick wall. Grace went in while we waited in the van outside the gate. She was gone a very long time, but when she came back, she said we could see Namale if I would come in and sign the visitor's book. Lisa and I followed Grace through a narrow gate in the metal gate. The guard wanted to stop us, but Grace had a pass saying we could all enter. I signed the visitor's book and the assistant head master actually told us we were welcome.

When Phoebe was at this school, we were very impressed by her English and Namale was the same. She has always been a bright girl, but her English was as good as if it were her first language. She was so excited to see us because she wanted us to see her new school. She is at the very top of her class, and she couldn't tell us about everything fast enough! In the middle of her raving about how great thngs were, she said, "And I haven't had malaria one time this whole year."

"So no one here gets malaria?" I asked. "They must do a good job controlling mosquitoes."

She looked at me as though I had three heads. "No, the sick bay has been full of girls with malaria some days. But me, I haven't gotten it once."

"You must be taking good care of yourself."

She sighed. "No, I have the mosquito net you bought me last summer. I sleep under it every night and I have had no malaria for an entire year. Girls in my dorm have been very sick, but not me. I have your net." We talked to Namale for a few more minutes, but she needed to get back to class. She shook hands with all of us, turned, and ran back to her class. But she turned back and watched us leave. Grace gave the surly guard the pass from the headmaster. Each of us told him goodbye, and he had to answer each one because he didn't know how well we knew the headmaster!

We stopped by the Kolping House to let me get my notes in case I had to talk that night. I also picked up a Uganda tour book because I wanted to read about a chimpanzee rescue operation. I saw signs about trips to this chip sanctuary at the zoo on Saturday, but the material was short on details. I read all about it as Vincent drove us to Garden City for lunch. The chimp refuge was on an island in Lake Victoria. A visit involved a long boat ride, followed by a chance to see the chimps being fed.

It was only a short ride from there to Garden City. Lisa got kabobs at the Lebanese Restaurant and I got a feast for about $6 at the Indian place. After lunch, I gave Lisa the book to read about the chimps. She read it and said she wanted to go. I passed the book to Vincent and Grace. "We've really been working hard the last three weeks," I said. "Would both of you like to come with us to see the chimps?" Both said they would like to go, which really surprised me because Grace is terrified of water! I called and found that there were four seats left for the next morning. I made a reservation for all four of us.

After lunch, we stopped at the Internet Café to update the blog and at a bookstore to buy a Ugandan Cookbook. It was a few minutes before 3:00 and we had no place to go. So Vincent took us to the Uganda National Museum. I had been before, but Lisa hadn't, and Lisa loves museums.

This is an odd place. Some of the exhibits are first rate, but some have items missing. In others, the exhibits are pushed over inside the glass. There's no particular order to things – you move from history to how malaria is transmitted to ancient musical instruments without any particular break in the flow. And there was a special exhibit about chimps, which turned out to be a series of posters and a video about the sanctuary.

We spent most of two hours in the museum, then Vincent took us to church. Joseph and Michael were there, but it was only 5:05. With a start time of 5:00, there was no need to panic yet. By 5:30, there were about 15 people there. By 6:00 there were 46! I knew the members of Kiwatule who were there, but there were other people who had come from other churches, too. One older woman who must be a leader in one of the other churches sat right in front of me. She questioned me sharply at first, but by the end, she saw where I was going and she was very supportive.

I spoke for an hour then answered questions for almost an hour. The group was so anxious to hear about budgeting. It was a situation where they all knew they should be doing something different with their money, but they didn't know what it was! They seemed to take down my every word. And to think I almost missed this opportunity in order to see a few animals!

After I finished, Joseph, Michael, and Grace said they needed to hurry home. Vincent said he would like to eat. I used the guidebook to find another Indian place because I know that Vincent loves Indian food most of all. This place was spectacular! The parking lot was completely full, so we had to park on the street and walk up a steep hill to the white stucco building. The restaurant smelled of rose water and it was filled with waiters in brown uniforms, including brown bell hop hats. We were led through the restaurant to a table in the back. The food was northern Indian even though the guidebook said it was southern Indian. Whatever the region, the food was spectacular!

Vincent took us home after dinner. We went to bed early because Vincent would come for us at 7:00 the next morning. The boat for the chimps left at Entebbe at 9:00, so with an hour's drive to Entebbe, we had very little room for error!

Tuesday, July 22: Another Not So Good First!

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 11:12:00 +0000

I spent most of the night wide awake, calculating and recalculating our hotel bill. I was trying to figure out how to fund this trip to the national park, but it appeared I was a bit short on the hotel bill here! Getting everything straight would require trips to the ATM and probably a trip to at least one bank.

Lisa reported that there was no hot water. I knew we had been without power most of the night, so I wasn’t surprised. Breakfast was complicated. There was a huge group of Ugandans holding some kind of conference at the Guesthouse. Within a few seconds of our arrival in the dining room, there was a long line of people trying to get coffee, toast, and fruit. The group was friendly, treating us as though we were a part of them. But it was a lot of people for that early in the morning!

Vincent was due at 8:30. He came to the room about 8:10 to deliver presents for us and for David. We finished getting ready and joined him at the van at 8:30. Our goal was to finish seeing children so that we could be free to go to the national park on Wednesday.

So we were off! Our first stop was Crown College to visit Nampeera Noreen. This was our second attempt. Earlier, her home told us she was at school and the school said she was at home. The same thing happened today! Vincent and Grace are looking into this.

Our next stop was Gayaza, where we visited two spectacularly nice girls schools. One of them had a building announcing it was built in 1940. The other claimed to be more than 100 years old, the oldest girl’s school in Uganda.

Our next stop was Luweero Secondary School, which seemed to be somewhere near South Africa! When we arrived, we saw Amanyire Joash (Tim and Edie). It seemed strange to see this boy who I still remember as a quiet, small for his age, elementary kid as a secondary school student. He was still a bit small and incredibly quiet, but he had grown into a young man.

We then began another incredibly long drive to Kwagala Day and Boarding School which must be somewhere north of Greenland. When we finally got there, we found a one rut trail leading precariously close to a huge ditch. Vincent passed the marked turn for the school and chose, instead, to take an unmarked trail that led to a church. He turned at the church and drove along the edge of a garden until we could finally see the tiny school. We were here to see Namhaba Robinah (Evelyn and Jenifer). This girl had lived with Grace for several years. She had decided to leave Grace and move in with her father. He had shipped her off to the middle of nowhere to live with her aunt. Although she obviously missed Grace, she said she was happy where she was.

This is a tiny primary school more than 40 kilometers from Kampala. I’m not certain, but we were probably their first white visitors. Every kid came running to see us, but see is all they wanted to do. They were scared to death of us! And their teachers were not much more brave!

Lisa finally broke through by letting one touch her arm. After that, every child wanted to touch her. They never did warm up to me. I think there’s something about sun glasses and a cane that makes me a bit intimidating to these kids.

We played with them for half an hour, taking pictures, video taping, and passing out single crayons and pencils. Everyone really waved when we left, but I’m not sure that it wasn’t with relief that we were going!

Robinah asked us to take her blanket and basin to her aunt. We drove along the market street of the tiny village until Vincent saw the woman. We pulled in and talked with her about Robinah. She had a toddler named Joshua who was hilarious. He wasn’t the least k tobit afraid of us. He tried to talk. He laughed. He grabbed the toy Lisa offered. Then all at once he noticed we were different. He didn’t cry, but he certainly stopped laughing!

We were a long way from Kampala, at least 40 km. once we made it back to the main road. We were north of Kampala, an area we knew nothing at all about. The terrain here was noticeably flatter. There were more swamps and more palm trees. We were still 200 km from Gulu, the center of troubles in northern Uganda.

We finally made it back to the main road and headed south toward Kampala. About 15 minutes later, there was a pop when Vincent shifted gears. The van quickly stalled. After the thousands of kilometers we’ve logged in Uganda, we were having serious mechanical problems with the van.

Vincent could only drive in first gear. To make matters worse, this road (the Gulu Road) was being rebuilt as we drove on it. The road crew would put a flagman out to tell us one lane was closed so traffic could flow in only one direction. At one point, we were crawling along in first going south, the only open direction. We had a huge piece of earth moving equipment running beside us as it flattened out a load of sand. A boda boda jumped into our lane heading straight for us. He ended up squeezing between us and the earth moving equipment on a strip of dirt no wider than a foot!

Vincent was amazing, as always. He managed to coast down hills and use the transmission only to pull up hills. As it turned out, traffic drew steadily worse as we approached Kampala so it didn’t particularly matter that we couldn’t go more than 25 kpm.

We drove inside the new by-pass and immediately came to Kolping House. It seems Bomba Road, the address of Kolping House, turns into Gulu Road at the by-pass. We all came inside to order sodas, but our team wanted lunch so they each ordered pork and chips. Everyone was quiet as we waited for the food. I got out my Dave’s Insanity Sauces to try to liven everyone up. It worked a little bit.

They left after lunch and Lisa and I went up to our room. It was the first day we’d had any break before 5:00, and both of us were asleep in no time!

Vincent later called to say that the gear box was damaged. We were able to get a temporary fix for only about $200. The work came with a warning, that this was only a temporary fix.

Between the health of the van, my lack of funds, and the death of Agatha’s grandmother earlier that morning, our chance to visit a national park was gone.

We spent the rest of the afternoon working on this blog, resting, and reading a bit. At dinner, we talked to a young man from Rwanda. He has been here as long as we have. He works for Serena Hotels. He is the head pastry chef for the hotel in Kigali. He is in Uganda for a month to observe the new hotel and its operations. He goes home on Saturday, and he can hardly wait. He wants to start a bakery in Uganda someday.

Monday, July 22: A Day Without Sunshine

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 11:12:00 +0000

Joseph told us as we were leaving the van on Sunday night that he had not publicized my personal finance lectures, so he didn’t see any reason for me to hold them on Wednesday and Thursday. That freed us up to go to a national park to see game. Vincent knew just the place.

It was a cloudy day with intermittent rain, something I’d never seen in Uganda.

We had several children yet to visit and they were very spread out! Our first trip was to find Ssenyange Herbert (New Beginning). He had been sick when we visited his school. He was on his way back to school on Monday. He was extremely appreciative of all we do.

We had received word that Scovia (Gary and Terry) was back at school, so we went to see her. Scovia has been with us since the beginning. At first, she was a small girl who lived across Lake Victoria from her school. She actually had to beg rides with fisherman to and from school each day. As she grew, we moved her to a boarding school and she has done well there. Scovia is dealing with a difficult situation. Her grandmother, who raised her after her parents died of AIDS, wants her back at home. And Scovia is torn between continuing her education and chasing after her dreams or returning to help her grandmother. She is also battling some kind of recurring fever which her grandmother attributes to witches. When she is sick, she contacts the grandmother who brings her home to chase the witches away. Both Grace and Vincent gave her phone numbers and she agreed to call one of them before calling her grandmother if she becomes troubled again. This is a critical time for Scovia. We lost one of our students to this village life last year. Pray that Scovia chooses a different path.

After visiting two more children, Vincent took us to the food court for lunch. I ordered lamb shish kabob and for the first time in my life, I had all the lamb I wanted to eat! It was absolutely delicious. Lisa was not so lucky. She ordered chicken from a Cuban stand and it wasn’t very good at all.

Vincent didn’t tell us what to expect after lunch, so we rode along, half-napping thinking we were going to another school. After a while, we left the main road and turned up a steep hill. We passed a building materials company and came out in the quarry. This time, we had the picture of Stephen Batte that I had printed from the Internet.

Nothing had changed except that the rain made driving even more challenging. The huge ruts in the dirt track were filled with water and Vincent had to be very careful not to slide off the road or to become stuck in the mire. He was constantly balancing going too fast to be safe and going so slow he would become stuck.

Vincent stopped in the last set of hovels before the quarry itself. He showed the picture to a woman who showed it to others. They agreed that the boy was gone, taken into another sponsorship program within a few days of the article’s appearance. “The lady in Chattanooga wanted to sponsor a boy of about nine,” I explained. “Is there a boy like that around?”

The women talked among themselves, but said there were no other boys. There were plenty of orphan girls of that age. A tall, thin woman seemed to be the leader of the pack. She said she would go and find such a girl.

We continued climbing up into the quarry area. Women sat along the path breaking rocks with their make-shift hammers. They sat on piles of rocks in their long, tattered skirts whacking rock after rock. They were very good at their job. They could reduce a softball sized piece of rock into gravels with only a few strokes. One of the women had an infant tied to her back. The baby seemed to be asleep as the woman worked.

Vincent showed Stephen’s picture to a man in the quarry. He and several other men who had come to see what was going on agreed that this boy had been taken into another sponsorship program. As Vincent talked, other young men came by the van. They were very friendly, speaking and asking how we were, but their eyes never stopped moving. They seemed to be trying to see what we had in the van. I finally asked Vincent to leave.

Turning around on the narrow road was a major ordeal when it was dry. With the rain, it was almost impossible. The men who had been talking with Vincent and those who had been talking with us helped talk Vincent through the tedious turns until we were pointed back down the track.

The tall woman was waiting for us at the edge of the quarry. She had a young girl with her, an orphan named Phiona whom she was caring for. Phiona wore a filthy, tattered school uniform. She was ten years old and she had left school after P3 when her parents died. At first, she wouldn’t talk at all, but she soon loosened up. She wanted to return to school more than anything. But there was a problem: Phiona had a younger sister named Rachel and she wouldn’t leave her in this place. If Phiona was to move to a boarding school, Rachel had to go, too. The woman heard all this and talked with the girl a bit, then she asked to go find Rachel. We had only one committed sponsorship here, but I told Vincent to let her find the girl. We would figure out some way to get Rachel a sponsor [CAN YOU HELP??]

While we were waiting, I asked Grace if it would be okay for us to get out of the van and talk to some people. She talked with Vincent and they agreed it would be okay. Lisa and I walked back up the road to a woman breaking rocks. She wore a dark top and a long dark skirt. I don’t see how she could sit on these rocks! They were sharp and uneven, but she didn’t seem to notice. She spoke a bit of English and she let us film her breaking large rocks into large gravel with her hammer thing. She showed us a the pile of finished product she was working on.

“How much will you be paid for that pile of rocks?” I asked.

“120,” said the woman.

“And how long will it take you to break that many rocks?”

“One week,” she said proudly. Apparently this was pretty fast.

I started doing the math and figured out that 120,000 shillings (about $75) for a week’s work wasn’t that bad in Uganda. Granted it took seven days a week to produce this much product and the work day pretty much followed the sun.

I didn’t realize she meant 120 shillings per week. That’s $7.50 for sun up to sun down seven days a week.

As I talked with the lady, she told me she had a daughter who wanted to go to school. She said her father was dead and there was no way she could afford school fees by herself. I told her we would try to find a sponsor. She smiled and held my hand.

We walked back to the van where Vincent and Grace were still waiting on Rachel. Phiona was doing well. She was talking with the women who were still standing around. Each of these women were trying to talk to Vincent or Grace. I watched for a few minutes, then finally asked Grace what was going on. Each of these ladies was trying to convince us that we should also take their daughters.

But we only had one committed sponsor. I had promised Rachel and the daughter of the woman who let us tape her that I would find them sponsors. I told Vincent to promise these people that we would try to find sponsors. That was the best I could do.

We gave race cars to the small boys who came to look at us and bracelets to the girls. These kids were in terrible shape: many had runny noses. Several had protruding stomachs and hernias. No one was overweight, though none seemed to be exceptionally thin.

The woman brought Rachel in a little while. She was smaller than Phiona and she wore a plain dress, not a uniform. She wouldn’t say a word to us and she hardly looked at us. Phiona talked to her, but it didn’t help.

After some negotiating, we agreed we would take both girls into the project. We would find a boarding school for them and they would begin when the next term starts (in about 5 weeks). Thanks to Jon, Lara, and both Hannah’s, we had enough spare money to promise clothing, shoes, a mattress, and other essentials for these girls. Vincent said that the girls would come back home during holidays if they wanted to. If not, someone in the church would take them.

On the way down, I noticed very many younger boys. But as they had said, there were no elementary school boys around. It finally dawned on me that these boys were in the quarry working, just as Stephen had been. And a family with a working boy wasn’t about to give up the revenue he represented. The young girls weren’t able to carry as much or break rocks as quickly as the young boys. That meant the girls needed a place to live and food to eat, yet they were returning no income to the family. Of course they would be glad to part with the girls!

This experience was one of the most emotional for both Lisa and me. With only one sponsorship to offer, we felt like potential puppy owners at a pet store. The idea of having to choose which life to change was overwhelming. And the ladies trying to convince us to take their own daughters so that they wouldn’t grow up to this fate was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.

We learned that we will have problems working here. Many of the people are from the Achole tribe which traditionally controls northern Uganda. But some are Bugandans, members of the tribe that currently runs the nation and Kampala. There is a Bugandan leader here and an Achole leader. We didn’t go through them because either of these leaders would give us kids only from their own tribe. Neither would like it that we came in and chose on our own. Vincent will sort this out.

We talked about the quarry as we drove back into town. Grace and Vincent had been as moved as we were. We agreed that they would return to the quarry and ask the tribal leaders for a list of true orphans from their tribes. We’ll add these to our waiting list right away. Then, they will return and work on identifying needy children with only one parent. In fact, I would expect our waiting list to be dominated by these quarry workers in no time.

On the way back, we stopped to visit Zawedde Hilda (Tom and Linda). Her parents had moved her to a boarding school, and they weren’t very cooperative. After a long wait, they said I had to come into the office to sign for the girl. I went to the office and they started looking for the girl. While we were sitting there, Grace realized she had made a mistake. The girl was on another campus of this school. We quietly excused ourselves and returned to the van.

We picked up Joseph and Michael at church. I have a Uganda guide that I bought a few years ago. I had checked it and found several new restaurants. Lisa and I decided on an Indian place downtown. We had eaten at a stall run by the same family at Garden City.

We wove our way through the rush-hour traffic, but we couldn’t find the restaurant. Vincent finally called the number in our guide book and got directions. We were only a block or two off. The restaurant didn’t open until 7:00 and it was only as few minutes after 6:00. We drove around and wasted a few minutes, but when we drove by again there was a parking place right at the door. Vincent took it and we went inside. The restaurant was located on the second floor (first if you’re British!). It was dark but a man came out and invited us in. We sat at a coffee table by the bar. The man came back and took drink orders. We sat there comfortably sipping water until the restaurant officially opened at 7:00.

This restaurant specialized in food from northern India. I ordered an assortment of dishes. The evening was just beginning for the cooks, and our food took a bit longer than I expected, but it was well worth the wait! The food here rivals the restaurant at Garden City.

On the way out, I found the wonderful mixture of seeds and spices that one sees at most Indian places. I spooned up a handful and popped it in my mouth. This mixture was toasted and not as strong as the one used at most Indian places. There was a second bowl beside the seeds. It contained a store of clear, rectangular objects, which I took to be some kind of rock sugar. So I popped one of these in my mouth, too. I’m not sure what this was. When I first bit it, I thought perhaps this was a bowl of beads from the beaded curtain that separated the rooms in the restaurant. But on second try, the thing shattered in my mouth. There was still no taste, so I began wondering if this was some sort of air freshener.

Lisa wasn’t particularly surprised that I’d picked up something with no idea what it might be, but our Ugandan friends found this to be absolutely amazing. Grace, between fits of laughter, kept saying, “Who told you to eat this thing?”

I still think this was some kind of rock sugar candy, though it was absolutely tasteless. The good news it’s been more than 24 hours now. Whatever it was, I seem to have handled it just fine.

Sunday, July 20: Dallas Departs

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 11:10:00 +0000

A day Lisa and I had dreaded since we realized we would be returning to the States at different times. Jeff had left us a week ago. Soon it would be David, Angie, and Danielle.

Vincent picked us up at 10:00. The ladies all wore the gromese, the traditional African dresses given them last Thursday night after the Women’s Group. The dresses were different in style and color but all featured wrap-around skirts gathered up on one side, penned, then tied in place with a wide belt. The people at church really liked it that they were wearing these clothes.

David preached, and he did a phenomenal job. He managed to make his hour-long sermon relevant and culturally appropriate without appearing to change his style. And it was quite a day at the church. The assistant pastor of a very large church had come to hear David, as well as a man from Boston who now lives in Kampala. I’m sure neither was disappointed!

As Joseph announced opportunities for the week, he didn’t mention my money seminar. Since this would be the last time the church would all be together before the first seminar on Wednesday, I was a bit surprised!

It was almost 2:00 when we finally got away from church. We decided to go back to the Guesthouse and pack up, then get a snack for lunch and dinner before the flight left. So we ended up at the coffee shop where we’d bought coffee the night before. We all had a cup of coffee and a piece of cake. The cake slices were substantial and good, though not very sweet!

We hardly had an hour in Kampala by the time our snack was over. Rather than going to see the Kasubi Tombs or the Martyr’s Memorial, the ladies decided to go shop. Vincent took us to the Theater Center where there is a wide variety of craft shops. Both Angie and Danielle made a few last minute purchases.

It was almost time to leave. Their flight was scheduled for a few minutes after 11:00. The three hour check-in rule said to be there by 8:00. We wanted time to eat, so we started to leave at 4:00. Michael and Joseph, however, hadn’t joined us when we left the shopping area. Vincent started toward Entebbe Road (the road to the airport), but he turned into a gated drive. The gate opened and we were in the new Serena Hotel. Vincent really wanted David to see this place, so he let us off at the main entrance while he looked for a parking place. We wandered through the breath-taking lobby (a mix of Japanese minimalism and African tribal antiques) and into the gift shop. We looked around the shop until 4:30 then went out to the van. Joseph was waiting for us. We started for the airport again. This time, we only had to stop for Michael, who was waiting on the street.

We had a clear shot to Entebbe – no major traffic at all. We arrived at the Royal Botanical Hotel about 6:00. We took a table on the 2^nd floor balcony. We had a great view of the twin swimming pools and the gardens with Lake Victoria in the far distance. Lisa and I had tilapia fillets. Mine was in the fish and chips style while hers was breaded. Both were excellent.

Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal, except Danielle who wasn’t feeling well. We sat and chatted until 7:30, then it was time to go. Vincent rushed us to the airport and we al l got out with David, Danielle, and Angie. Their flight was checking in, so we left them at the door. We stayed until everyone was at the ticket counter, but we had to go then because the guards were complaining about our being stopped.

THE FOLLOWING TWO PARAGRAPHS ARE VERY GRAPHIC. YOU CAN EASILY SKIP THEM.

Vincent drove us out of the parking area Everyone was pretty quiet in the van. It was as though we’d had our energy removed. We pulled onto the four-lane road that leads into and out of the airport. We were in the inside lane. I knew something was wrong when I heard the terrifying sound of metal scraping metal. I looked into the lane of incoming traffic. In the lane next to me, a boda boda driver had tried to cut too close to a taxi. He clipped the left front corner of the taxi (the metal on metal screech). This pulled him in front of the fast-moving taxi. The driver stood on his breaks. The nose of the van dropped forward, but it was too late. I heard two thumps, the sound of flipping a watermelon with your knuckle, the sound of two unhelmeted heads hitting pavement. The van continued on for a few feet mangling the boda boda and both its occupants as it slowed.

All of this happened in a split second, but seemed to drag on in slow motion for several minutes. The boda boda was cutting around the van because there was a terrible incoming traffic jam. The people in the car around the taxi were jumping out, but there wasn’t anyone to help on the pavement. There’s no way either of the riders survived. We continued on toward Kampala. No one said a word.

After about 25 minutes, we met an ambulance speeding toward the airport. Apparently, the only ambulance was in Kampala. It would be around 45 minutes after the accident before the ambulance arrived. I had a terrible thought. We were so focused on the boda boda occupants that we didn’t even think about the taxi. These taxis are set for 14 people, but it isn’t at all unusual to see 20 or more people riding. Most of the taxi riders don’t use seat belts. If this was an overloaded taxi, there were sure to be injuries from dislodged taxi passengers. Perhaps the ambulance was for them.

We said goodbye at the door to the Kolping House. Lisa and I walked up the long slope from the dining area. Again, the silence was deafening. We already missed them and we hadn’t tried to do anything.

Saturday, July 19: The Zoo (again)

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 11:09:00 +0000

We were scheduled to be at Saturday School by 10:00, so Vincent came for us at 9:00. As was always the case, I needed to exchange money which I did at the hotel rather than the bank. Vincent took us to the Internet Café at Garden City where I updated the blog without any problems. We also printed out the article about the boy at the quarry as well as his picture.

So we were half an hour late getting to church. The place was full of kids again, singing, laughing, happy kids. We photographed a few of the kids who had been sick when we visited their schools, but mostly, we just enjoyed being with this bunch.

Around 11:30, everyone left for the soccer game. Brainerd Presbyterian had donated a dozen balls and these kids could hardly wait to try one out! We didn’t appear to lose anyone between the church and the school. The boys split into a young and an older team and they were soon charging around the field in a tightly contested battle. The older boys let the younger have three extra people on their team, which seem to add to the amount of running. Angie and Danielle took the younger kids and soon had them involved in some sort of game. There was a small group of cheerleaders, but I never figured out exactly who or what they were cheering about.

After about 30 minutes, Vincent said it was time to go, so everyone went to the van for the zoo trip. This was an unusual group. We had Bukirwa Priscilla (Dick and Cheryl) and Muwanika Joan (Jay) two young girls both of whom stay at Vincent’s house. There was also Claire (Steed and Ellen) who has gone from among the lowest in her class to tops in Math and Okiria Moses (Barbara and James) who is doing very well in S4. Two others had been invited, but both were in boarding schools and neither had been allowed to leave on this weekend. So instead, we invited Nakagiri Justine (Dan and Lisa), our soon to be university graduate, and John Bosco (Pam and Sandy) who is also at university.

It was a quick ride to Garden City. I expected that our younger kids might have never seen the zoo, but we learned that only one of the bunch, Priscilla, had been to Garden City and only Justine had been to the zoo when she was in Primary School. When I asked he group about Garden City, tiny Priscilla caught my eye. Her look begged me not to mention her other trip to the mall. It came on Christmas Day 2006. Vincent and I took her there to shop for a Christmas dress and to buy her some lunch after her mother severely beat her.

I tried to organize the chaos a bit by keeping the food hawkers away until the kids had a chance to think about what they might want. Most wanted fried chicken or sausages (Priscilla wanted both!) but there was one pizza and some Chinese pork. Everyone seemed to enjoy their food, but they were ready to get moving. The zoo waited! Pricilla, by the way, remembered that Vincent took home a doggy bag during her other visit to Garden City. She took all her chicken and most of her chips in a doggy bag!

We had a bit of rain as we drove to the zoo, but it didn’t rain on us at all while we were there. These kids loved the zoo, from the young ones to our university students and project workers! There was a large group of monkeys passing through the zoo and they were as much fun as any of the exhibits. They were all but tame. A mother monkey even stretched out to nurse her baby within a few feet of our path.

When we were through, Angie bought sodas for everyone at the zoo restaurant. Everyone was talking at once, as excited about reliving their day as they had been anticipating it!

Everyone but poor Vincent napped on the way back to Kampala. He dropped kids near their homes as we drove through Ntinda. We went by the Guesthouse and freshened up, then headed for the Turkish Restaurant, the place our Dallas team chose for their last dinner with us. Michael, Dan, and Joseph met us there. We ordered pretty much the same things they’d ordered a week earlier, but no one was bothered by the repeat. The kabobs at this place are wonderful!

There was a bit of excitement at the end of the meal. All at once, people shrieked. It started behind the bar and spread through the restaurant. I didn’t get a good look at the creature that ran out of the kitchen, past a lot of tables, and into the night, but I was assured it was a rodent, whether mouse or rat remained a topic of debate as we rode back to the Guesthouse.

Friday, July 18: The Worst for Last

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 11:08:00 +0000

This was the last “work day” for the Dallas crew. Another trip to the zoo comes on Saturday along with Saturday School. And David preaches Sunday. But this would be the last day of visiting kids because their flight left Sunday night.

Vincent arrived a few minutes after 8:00 and we were ready to go. Our first stop was Surrey Secondary School. We had missed Esther there earlier in the week, but she had shown up at church on Wednesday night and didn’t appear to be sick at all. So Vincent went in and came back shaking his head. She was absent again.

We drove across Ntinda and down a very steep road, then stopped. Tenywa (Jack) was working on a new house with his builder brother. He explained that he was on break from the university until early August. He had just finished his first year, and he said the break from studying was a welcome one! He has now officially changed his major to journalism/mass communications. He wants to be on television someday as a TV Journalist. As we started to leave, he called me. He said each student in his program is required to have a video camera. He said he couldn’t complete the classes next term without one. I explained that we didn’t have money for such things in our budget, and I wasn’t comfortable asking for more from his sponsor. He seemed disappointed, but he agreed to explore sharing opportunities a bit more thoroughly.

David later volunteered to donate his video camera. He recently bought a high definition camera, so the perfectly good tape based system would be wasted. He plans to send the camera to Uganda soon after our return home.

While we were working with Tenwya, Grace was searching for Esther. She found the young woman at home, and she insisted that Esther come see us. She soon came to the van dressed in casual clothes. She said that this was the first day she had felt well. She started to go to school this morning, but her mother convinced her to wait until Monday. She didn’t show any signs of illness at all. I listened to her story, which basically involved being sick and not feeling like going to school, and told her that if she missed another day this year, we will terminate her in the Project. She promised she would be back in school on Monday. Since the school is within 5 blocks of the church, we will see! As we told her, there are so many kids in Uganda who want to go to school. If she doesn’t care to be one of them, she should move out of the way.

Presbytery was scheduled to begin at 9:00. David worked it out that only one of us would go to the meeting at a time (he stay an hour, then swap out with me). The meeting, however, got off to a rocky start because no one was there at 9:00. We decided to continue on seeing kids and we’d go to presbytery at lunch time. Then, David could talk about leadership and I about record keeping.

Since Esther had proven not to be very sick, we were equally skeptical at Up Hill College when we heard that Namagulah Rita (Laqueta and Robert) was also ill and so not at school. Grace and Vincent talked for a moment and decided to call her and tell her to come and meet us here at the school. This school was arranged in a most unusual way.. The entry gate was up a steep hill, but only about 8 feet from the roadway. The gate opened into a huge courtyard with shady areas. The buildings surrounding the courtyard were for primary grades. This, however, was also a secondary school. The secondary students were housed in a building behind one of the primary buildings. So, secondary students had to past through the primary school in going to and from school.

The head mistress here was concerned about our reaction since the girl wasn’t around. She had student workers bring out old student desks and put them under a very nice shade tree in the corner of the compound. They brought out desks for all of us, so we rested well while waiting for our sponsored child to come.

As I said, we were skeptical because the first girl didn’t appear sick at all. So when this girl in her spotless uniform climbed down from a boda boda and started up the hill, I must admit the same doubts emerged again. When she fainted dead away in front of the kindergarten classroom, I didn’t know what to do. The guard at the gate got to her first with Grace and Vincent immediately behind him. Angie also went running to the girl.

The guard and Grace got on her feet. She was extremely wobbly. They took her in one of the buildings and brought her water. Within ten minutes, she came out and took one of the desks. She said she had been sick for weeks, but only stayed out today. She was obviously very weak, so we drove her back to her home, a distance of more than 2 miles.

And this begins the most remarkable and horrifying adventure we’ve had in Uganda. On June 1, 2008, Chattanooga Times-FreePress carried an article by Kathy Pownall called,, “Uganda’s Children Work on Dangerous Rock Pile.” an article about a young boy who worked in a rock quarry in Uganda. The photograph showed a small boy in torn clothes sitting with a pile of rocks and a bucket. He is hitting a rock with a hammer-like device. The story said he was nine years old and lived alone because his mother had died in a cave-in last summer. The boy had continued living in the mud hut he’d shared with his mother and infant sister, but the baby had been taken to an orphanage. This boy, Stephen, had fled from fighting in Northern Uganda to the relative safety of this quarry, yet another example of the plight of the Invisible Children. They were quite the cause back when they were being taken from their homes in the night. With the tentative peace accords in place in the area, the children are safe from kidnap, but these children are still in terrible danger and we must work to get them established in schools.

Before we left home, I got a call from Jim. He said he had a message on his phone mail from a woman who wanted us to go look for Stephen. It seems her daughter worked for one of our sponsors, a mutual friend who knew that Jim had gone to Uganda with me. He told her how to contact Jim, who then gave the contact information to me.

I spoke with Tommy less than a week before our scheduled departure. She said she couldn’t get this boy off her mind, and she wanted me to go look for him. She said she would sponsor the boy if I could find him. I explained that there were tens of thousands of children around Kampala who desperately needed our help, so it might be hard to find Stephen. “Do your best,” Tommy said. “I can’t get that boy off my mind. But if you can’t find him, find somebody I can help.”

I wrote to Vincent who started calling people and before we landed in Uganda, he had a lead on this boy! It was time to go and find him.

We’ve seen rock for sale all over town. Products ranged from very thin irregular sheets as large as 8x10 to colorful gravel. The quarry sits on a ridge near Over Hill School. It’s visible from much of Entebbe, but it looks like any of the other hills except part of this one is gone and a huge sand-colored hole has replaced the dense jungle and houses on the nearby hills. We turned off the main road and onto a dirt one that was reasonably smooth at first. We drove along the base of the ridge with houses on both sides of the road. These houses were no worse than any around Kampala. But the world soon changed.

The road became steadily narrower and more deeply rutted. A man came out and waved to Vincent. They talked for a moment, then the man went away. “He is getting the boy for us,” said Vincent. “He knows where he is. He says the boy is working with his father.”

“Vincent, the story says the boy is an orphan. He doesn’t have a father,” I said. Vincent seemed troubled by this, but he soon started the van forward once again.

We turned up from the rows of houses. There was a long patch of nothing. In the distance, we could see the pit where huge pieces of rock were being extracted. Up ahead, there were more houses, rows and rows of them. These were almost all mud huts – long wooden poles parallel to the ground with mud between them. Many had eroded and were beginning to lean. The houses were alive with people. The row nearest our road sat down below the driving surface. It was reserved for stores mostly selling vegetables. From the road, we could look beyond the shops to see narrow alleys with rows of homes.

And there were children EVERYWHERE. Many were small and covered in dust from the quarry. Some had runny noses leaving tracks on their muddy faces. Some cried. This is the worst poverty we’ve seen in Uganda.

We crawled forward through ruts that required our four wheel drive. Some of the ruts had water in them and once there was a small pond to negotiate. We soon reached the end of the houses. Kampala spread down the valley and up the hill across from us. There were more of Africa’s unique greens, but there were also colorful homes and prosperity. Our road snaked more steeply upward and the going became even rougher. We followed the road to the edge of the quarry where a very old woman sat by a huge pile of gravel. She had a large rock and she was striking it with a device that resembled a hammer. Her hammer was a long piece of wood with a brass collar around the end. She was breaking the big rocks into smaller ones by striking them with something that didn’t have a weighted head on it. She was good at her job, however. It only took three or four blows to chip off a gravel.

Vincent’s friend returned and he and Vincent entered into a discussion about the young boy he’d found. Vincent explained that this couldn’t be the right boy, but the man disagreed. Vincent started to pull away. We had to go into the quarry area. Two well dressed young men began yelling to us. “Make sure he gives you the right boy,” said one of the men.

“He’ll only send you his relatives,” said the other. They kept laughing and walking toward the van. One of the men shook my hand.

“Vincent, I think it’s time we moved on,” I said. He turned the van around and we started back through this hell. Even more kids lined our route as the word had spread that there were bzungu here. Although some of the kids were laughing and playing, most of them stared at us with absolutely blank expressions. They didn’t shout and laugh and wave as most Ugandan kids do when we pass. Vincent stopped to tell the man that they would talk soon and we slipped away.

This was amazing, hopeless, paralyzing poverty. It was so bad that David had a hard time video- taping our route. And when it was over, we found that Lisa and I had shot fewer than 20 photos between us. No one spoke as we left the quarry. No one could.

David and I were nearly two hours late for presbytery, so Vincent hurried back to the church. We went in and found that they hadn’t reached our place on the agenda. We went into the meeting. There were three ladies from Kassanda, three gentlemen from Kiwatule, and one gentleman from Mpig sitting in church chairs in a huge circle on the dirt floor. As soon as we arrived, Joseph announced lunch. The ladies from Kiwatule began bringing in food. We had matoki with either meat or g-nut sauce (I opted for meat gravy with not meat!), rice, potatoes, greens, and a small container of what appeared to be green peas. “These are egg plants,” said Lydia as I came through the line. “They are very bitter.”

I sampled everything on my plate before the peas. Finally, I put two in my mouth. They didn’t take like peas at all, and they were incredibly bitter. Michael laughed when he saw me eat them. “They help the blood pressure,” he said once he’d settled down. I gave David two peas, and the result was the same. Since these things looked like something very familiar, it was hard to adjust to the bitterness!

I enjoyed this lunch, though I stayed away from the greasy meat. David didn’t, in fact he had two pieces of meat: one purely fat, while the other had a small bit of meat attached. He put that piece in his mouth, chewed it for a moment, then put it on my plate where it stayed.

After lunch, David spoke for a few minutes about leadership, then I gave an overview of how to keep minutes. There was no reaction to either. As I was finishing up, Pastor Jimmy and another of the elders from Mpigi came in. They had been at a funeral and were just then arriving in Kampala.

The rest of the agenda went quickly. After all was done, Pastor Jimmy read a letter that basically accused us of not giving his church money it had been promised. Trouble was nothing had been promised! Joseph handled a potentially explosive situation well, and we were ready to leave in a few minutes.

The van had returned, so we boarded and Vincent sped away. The Dallas crew wanted Thai food, so we went to our rooms and hurried back to the van. We called the others, but they were tied up and could not join us. The setting was relaxing. The tables sat under a tall wooden structure with open walls to gardens. Gardens below the setting area held a playground that entertained the towheaded children from the table behind us. Soft music lulled everyone into a peaceful mood as we had one of the best Thai meals that I’ve ever experienced.

We were in bed by midnight.

Thursday, July 17: The Tough Ones

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 06:43:00 +0000

You know, it happens this way every year. We go see more than a hundred kids. Some have colds. Some have torn a uniform. Some can’t decide which color blanket is best. All happy kids, pleased with school, living in a somewhat at least stable environment.

Then you get down to the end. Only a big handful to go to meet the goal of visiting every child. But these aren’t the happy kids, the kids with their act together because their world makes sense. These last few are the problems, the troubled kids, the stories, the real reasons we are here.

Lisa and I made us 10 minutes late on this our sprint day: a mad rush to visit all the remaining kids. We went to Najjera High School first. We visited there last week, but two girls were out sick. They came quickly to the van when Grace went in for them. The other kids at Najjera had seemed reasonably happy at least, but these two girls were surly. They didn’t want to answer our questions.

There was something wrong, but we couldn’t figure out what. So Vincent and Grace will keep an ear open to see if something is really wrong or if these were just two teen-aged girls on a bad day.

We went on to another high school and saw three very happy young men. Kunsa Rodney (Janice) is now within 2 inches of being as tall as I am, a very rare achievement for a Ugandan. He is adjusting well to secondary school and said he is working hard. Kyeyuhe Julius (Tom and Abigail) is still drawing. He is now taking art in secondary school and talking about being an art major in college.

We were on the eastern side of town, that strange mix of Muslim and Africa and Christianity. The east side has it all spread across a mixture of very poor people. This is Michael’s territory, he was born here and he has lived his entire life here. He met us at a crowded shopping market and joined us in the van. I always feel better over here when Michael is with us. He seems to know everyone.

Our first stop with Michael was St. Consolate Primary School. We parked and Grace went in. Within less than a minute, a young girl came charging out of the school. She ran up and hugged Grace, then she hugged me, then she hugged everyone. She was laughing, almost hysterically. This is Nassolo Mable, a young woman in P7, her last primary year. In this, her pivotal year (in P7, you take the Primary Leaving Exam, which decides whether you can continue to secondary school) this girl’s mother has abandoned her. No one came to visit her on Visitor’s Day.

The head mistress for the school asked Grace and me to come to her office. As I started to go, Danielle stopped me. “I have money left over. Use it here if this girl needs it.”

When I got to the office, I quickly saw the seriousness of the situation. It is mandatory that this girl live in the boarding school during this her test year so that she can study harder and longer than at home. Her mother agreed at the start of the term that if we paid tuition and fees she would pay for boarding. But she hasn’t paid a penny and the girl had a large past due balance.

To make it even worse, her sponsor also quit! No letter or call, just a year behind in payments and refusal to answer our many letters. So she had no letter or photographs. All she had to cheer her up was us.

The head mistress said the girl cried at night because she is afraid something is wrong with her mother. She also knows that her boarding fees are behind and she worries that she will be sent home. And she has been provided none of the requirements for living in the boarding section, like a mattress or the blanket we were giving her or the wash basin we were also providing. Grace said the mother is fine, she just doesn’t want to honor her promise.

I agreed to pay the past due balance. That would be one less thing for Nassolo to worry about. So the head mistress started telling her assistant about the amounts we owed. She told her to put down an amount, then added several things to it (all the add-to-its were in Luganda). I told Grace this seemed like too much, but she said no, it was okay. I ended up paying. Grace said she believed the mother would take care of the required supplies, she just couldn’t afford both the supplies and the boarding fee, even though she promised to do just that. Nassolo needs a sponsor if anyone feels so led.

And then, one of the high points of our trip! I recently met an official from the Church of Rwanda. He told me we needed to check out Uganda’s new Christian University. Namutebe Cathy, the daughter of Michael and Mabel, was accepted as a student there last term. I could hardly wait to see her!

The campus is most impressive. The huge gates open onto a plaza with a fountain and beautiful flowers. We drove past new buildings and older students in uniforms. We parked under a tree in a large, open lot. A few minutes later, Cathy hit! She was no less enthusiastic or happy than Nassolo. But Cathy is quick witted and sharp tongued, a wonderful combination if her target is David!

Cathy met everyone. She looked good in her uniform (she had been sick a bit earlier in the year). And her father just wanted to stand near her and glow: his first-born, a university student!

After she made the rounds, she looked at David. David has blond highlights in his hair, something Cathy has noted in the past. Today, she looked at him thoughtfully for a minute. “David, if you will come with me, I will cut those bad spots from your hair,” she said.

“Then I would have gaps all in my hair. It would look terrible,” said David.

“Oh, I would lend you some of these,” said Cathy as she twirled a dark black hair extension between her fingers. “I believe you need them far worse than I.”

With that, we all climbed back into the van. Cathy wanted to show us where she is living. It was a very long way from the huge campus – at least 2 miles. I was concerned about her safety in the evenings, but there was a shuttle schedule posted that seemed to cover late evening studies. We turned into the driveway of a brand new 4 story dorm. Construction wasn’t complete, but Cathy and a few other students had been invited to live here. They had applied late to the college, and ended up with the best rooms!

Cathy’s room was on the second floor and it was no different than any other college dorm, except that there were three beds (a single and bunk beds) in the space that would usually hold only two people. And there was no desk or bookshelves, only the beds. There was a private bathroom, however. Cathy’s room was spotless, and she was so proud to show it to us!

We dropped Cathy at the college entrance as we left. Michael glowed for the rest of the day.

During our Christmas 2006 trip, Michael got word from a teacher friend that there were two Muslim boys in serious trouble. Their mother had been dead for a while and the father had just died unexpectedly. The teacher was allowing the boys to live at her house, but she said she couldn’t keep them permanently and she had no money at all for school fees. The boys were twins, though one was two years ahead of the other in school. We met them then, and they were incredibly touched that Americans cared about them. We checked in with them last summer and they were doing very well in a Muslim school.

We were visiting them at Nile College, which is not Muslim. Grace went in to get them, but the head master insisted that I come in before he would allow the boys to come out. I talked to the head master, a young man from Ntenda, for a few minutes before one of the boys knocked on his door. I opened it and walked out. Katon Hussein (Collins) and Wasswa Hassan (Howards) were a little out of breath from running to meet me. They shook and shook and shook my hand, and they were both talking at once.

Last summer, the twins said their uncle sold the place where they had been living. The place had belonged to their father and they expected to live their forever, but the uncle sold it. He promised that he would care for them, but he insisted they move to their current location because he wanted them in a day school. They moved as he suggested, and they said he seemed to care about them. His wife, however, was a different thing. She didn’t want them eating up their food. She assigned them chores that were impossible to complete on school days. And she began telling the uncle that the boys were lazy, that they were gossips sharing his secrets in the street.

Finally, the uncle began to listen to his new wife. The boys said he began to scream at them at every opportunity. And this week, he had told the kitchen staff to stop feeding them. The only meal they were getting was the hot lunch at school, not enough for growing boys. And he had told them they could no longer sleep under his roof.

So these 15 year old boys had no place to live, not enough to eat, and no prospects at all to make things any different. I talked to the head master about boarding them at this school, but the price was very, very high. He said if I brought him more students he would look at his price, but that it was firm for these boys at about $750 per year each.

I talked with Grace and Vincent for a bit. They felt that the story was exactly true and that the boys were in serious trouble. They said they would look for two openings in a less expensive boarding school. Until then, we didn’t have a lot to offer.

So we loaded the boys up with all the food we were carrying. I gave them 10,000 shillings, which would buy a lot of food stall food in that area. And we told them not to worry. I hope we can move quickly enough to prevent a disaster here.

I take back my criticism of the road to Kassanda, or at least the part about that being the worst road in Uganda. The road to Butinindi is much worse! We hadn’t been on this road in four years, but it hadn’t improved with time. It felt very much like riding on a washboard with holes in it! We shook and shook and shook, then wham, the bottom would fall out as Vincent slipped into a pot hole. One of the holes was so deep I believe it was a gate to Narnia!

We had one small boy to see at the end of this very long and bouncy road: Senono Mavin (Gary). Senono is a very funny little boy. He is so full of energy and life. He has a huge smile that is absolutely infectious. He was a boarder at Rasa Model Day School, which was a bit old and shabby. He had on his shoes from Christmas, which were still at least three sizes too big for him.

I asked how he got here. His mother took him out of his school in Ntinda and moved him here to live with relatives. His teacher was very concerned. She said he wasn’t being cared for at all by these people and he was possibly being abused. She said he needed help. Grace agreed to call the mother, who is still in her place in Ntinda. Beyond that, we’ll have to see.

Someone came up with a great idea: we had a very large number of small crayon sets. There were 13 left in our box, so they sent Mavin back into the school to bring out 13 friends for this gift. I believe the boy grew a foot as he started back through the school gate.

It took him quite a while to gather up the kids. We expected to be swarmed and we were bracing for the deluge of children. We expected many more than Senono’s 13 would be coming out. But when we looked at the gate, out came Senono leading a reasonably straight line of 13 kids. They stopped and didn’t say a word until we spoke to them. Their eyes were huge. They didn’t particularly want to be near us. But there was not a sound from these kids. And they were an interesting group! Senono had chosen boys and girls, some obviously older than he and some obviously younger. I still can’t believe how well these kids behaved!

The road into St. John Senior Secondary School leads into a huge primary school. We entered the gate and pulled into chaos! The younger kids were having lunch, and they came running to see the Mzungu! We all jumped out. Angie and Danielle were immediately swarmed by kids. Angie organized her mob into a huge circle and it began to turn faster and faster until a young boy fell. Danielle led hers in the same exercise, but she never developed the style that Angie had. What Danielle had that no one else in the world has is an ability to make very strange faces. She led a huge group of kids in making a very strange assortment of faces, and I got everyone on my camera!

After a wonderfully long time, Nassimbwa Esereda (Marilyn) came to see us from the secondary school next door. This girl seemed to be on the ball. And she still loves math!

As we were preparing to leave, I saw one of the most amazing things ever. A young teacher walked up to the group of children. She began talking in a normal tone. The mass of kids quieted down almost instantly. Every little eye was focused on the teacher. In a normal tone, she said, “Let us thank our visitors for coming to see us.”

There was a chorus of “Thank yous.”

“And now it is time for us to go back to our room. Can we go there now please?” A mass of yellow, the uniforms on the backs of these kids, began to move across the plaza to their classroom. We didn’t see or hear another word from this teacher or her class.

We found three more students at New Style Primary School and soon found ourselves outside the gates waiting to see Zawedde Hilda (Tom and Linda). Grace went in first as was usually the case, but she returned after a while saying the head master wanted to see me. I followed her back to the Administration Offices and me the Dean of Students. He was trying to locate Hilda. Grace and I talked for a few minutes with the gentleman. He told us to stay put and we did. We waited for a long time, until I asked Grace if there was any way we could be at the wrong school. She said no, but eventually she began to doubt herself. She made a call, then announced that we were at the wrong branch of this school. We left as quickly as we could!

Our last stop for the day was at Caltec Academy. Mabuye Julius (Ron and Judy) wants very much to be a doctor. Last year was his S6 year and although he worked hard, he didn’t complete all the required reading. He wasn’t granted a certificate, so there was no way for him to start university. So Julius went back to a different school to take S6 over again.

We were at the end of a heavy shower, so the roads around Julius’ place had been transformed into gigantic mud puddles. Pot holes became a very serious concern because under these conditions, it was possible to slip into a pot hole and not get out. Vincent called Julius to get directions to where he was. In a few minutes, he came walking into the campus. Julius has now grown significantly taller than me!

We talked about his school work and his plans. He seems very determined, but once again has no backup plan if he struggles on his exam again. He simply said he wouldn’t fail to get into medical school in the fall! He asked us to come see his place. It was about 4 blocks from his school. It was a tall, building with a lot of outdoor decks. And there was a college male on every single one of them! Word seemed to pass very quickly that there were Mzungu women in this van because within minutes, men were staring at us from all directions. Two men even took off their shirts and began lifting weights for all the world to see.

Julius lives on the fourth floor and he wanted us to come up and see his place. We quickly decided that it would be better if I didn’t try to climb the narrow, dark stairs. The ladies didn’t want any part of going alone into Julius’ building.

We returned to the van and Vincent drove us home. We rested for half an hour, then went down to dinner. We put in our orders as soon as we arrived at Kiwatule (more than an hour ago).Vincent decided to eat with us, so he had a table when we walked back into the dining room. It was the first time this trip Vincent had come with us without the others. We had a very nice evening, waiting more than an hour (even with the orders turned in early) for our food, talking, laughing. I had grilled tilapia with some sort of sauce that was very, very greasy.

We had visited 11 schools and added 22 children to our “Visited List.”

Wednesday, July 16: Another Not-Too-Productive Day

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 06:40:00 +0000

Our great start with Jeff is in danger of being eclipsed by a less effective second week. Today, we started at 8:30 with a quick trip to Surrey High School where we found one of our children missing. We will catch up with her later. We hit two more schools, then we had to break.

I came up with a great idea a few days ago. I decided that perhaps my CMT and eye symptoms could be the result of some tropical disease. So where better to be checked for tropical diseases than in Uganda, home of the most strands of malaria in the world. Philip told me about a place called The Surgery where he said he took his family. I sent Vincent and Michael there for treatment a few times. So I asked Vincent to make an appointment for me. The time they had was 10:40.

We started to make our way across Kampala around 10:00. Traffic was light, so we got there early - about 10:15. The waiting room was filled with a mix of Ugandans and European tourists. I filled out an information card and we took a seat. There was a sign on the wall urging people who were leaving Uganda to take a malaria test. It said “why become a guinea pig for a group of medical students back home?” Sounded like my kind of place!

We waited until a few minutes past 11:00. Dr. Stockley called my name and Lisa and I started back. He directed us down stairs, then down more stairs, then down a hall to a consultation room. Dr. Stockley was a little older than me, not quite as tall, and 50 pounds lighter. He was very British and very quick-witted. He pointed to a desk and told us to take seats. A cute young medical student sat behind the desk. “She’ll ask you all my questions,” said the doctor as he flew out of the room.

The young woman did a very thorough history of my CMT and eye issues, but she was still working on it when Dr. Stockley came back in. He went back through everything and continued making notes on an index card. He told me to move to the examining table. He moved my neck a bit and checked my back. He tried to look in my eyes, but he said his equipment wasn’t good enough to see anything at all. Then he told me to get a blood sample and come back in an hour or two. Lisa and I walked up one of the flights of stairs and I went alone into the lab.

A middle-aged Ugandan woman started slapping my arms and looking for a vein. I told her I was a difficult stick and she found out why: the nice, firm vein rolled away as soon as she tried to stick it. Didn’t slow her down, however. She dug deeper and deeper into my arm before declaring that vein impossible. She moved to the back of my other hand and immediately started to dig. I believe the needle would have been visible in my palm if I had thought to look. In any event, she finally drove the needle through the vein. She put pressure on the wound at once. “I hope it won’t balloon,” she whispered.

The other tech got out a syringe and went after a different vein in my hand. She actually drew the blood out with the syringe. Her way wasn’t much fun, but it was soon over!

I called Vincent and he said they were close by. We paid about $40 for the visit and moved down the hill to wait for the van.

Since we would need to go back in a short time, it didn’t make sense to go chasing kids. And in any event, Lisa had a speaking engagement tonight so she needed food. So we went to Garden City, which, as luck would have it, is exactly where they had been when I called. We walked up to the Food Court and were descended upon by food hawkers. There have always been hawkers at the various stalls. They would try to give you a menu, then tell you about the wonderful food there. Each hawker would stay near the restaurant employing him, but today, they were all waiting to pounce as soon as we cleared the door!

After a few minutes, I settled on the mixed grill. I received small portions of grilled chicken, lamb, and beef. I gave most of my rice to Vincent and I didn’t eat the chips. But the protein was great! Everyone seemed to enjoy their food.

We were back at The Surgery at 1:30. We were told to take seats. Dr. Stockley came out of the back and the receptionist started to complain about something electrical not working. Dr. Stockley got down on the floor and started pulling wires. He had an electrician in tow, but he simply stood back and let Dr. Stockley do his thing. He thought he’d worked it out and walked out explaining what he’d done to the electrician. He hardly cleared the door when he came back, still explaining to the electrician. This time, both got on the ground beneath the receptionist’s desk. In a few minutes, they came up.

After Dr. Stockley left again, I went up and asked if the test had been completed. “He just picked it up, sir,” said the receptionist. Before I could settle back in my chair, Dr. Stockley called us back. He took us back to the consulting room where we’d met earlier. He showed me the results of the blood test. Nothing at all showed up. He basically said the good news is it’s only CMT and the bad news is it’s CMT! There’s nothing to be done for it. Like the Neurologists in Tennessee, he said the eyes couldn’t be related, but he had no idea what that was about. He said he lacked the background to even hazard a guess, that I would need to rely on my neurologist for that. “You’re not the first person to come to me hoping to find a tropical explanation for a non-tropical medical problem. But given enough time, those guys in the States are pretty good. They’ll eventually figure it out, even if it’s something odd.”

We spent another half-hour with the doctor talking about Uganda and the challenges of doing church work here. Dr. Stockley has a healthy skepticism about Ugandan run NGO’s coming from 28 years in Uganda watching frauds multiply everywhere. He was a delightful man and he said he hoped I would drop through when I came in over Christmas.

I must say I was disappointed. I was hoping he could diagnose something rare with these exact symptoms, something easily cured with no lasting effects. He was pretty much my last hope of that. Now, we’ll face the slow progression of CMT and whatever the eye issue is with nothing to do but treat symptoms.

The team was incredibly patient with me again today. They shopped while I was seeing the doctor, but they waited patiently while I went back. Vincent had a parking spot in the shade. We climbed into the van and took off to see more children!

.We met Nansubuga Joan (Brett) at Winterland Academy. This is Pastor Elliot’s daughter. We were glad to see her in the program even though her father has left the EPC. From there, we drove to Mutungo Central Primary School and saw Mutebi Innocent (Rick and Vicki). Yes, he is a boy! He was so excited to see us he could barely talk.

We visited three more schools and found happy children who were doing well or trying harder. Then we went to Bweyogerere Secondary School. We were there to see Nakalyango Unia (New Beginning). There was a large sign from the Muslim Student’s Association at the front desk. We parked while Michael went to the administration office. Students began to pass. All the boys wore head covers. All the girls were completely covered from head to toe. The uniform for girls was a flowing ground-length gown with the school’s name on the right front.

Unia wouldn’t say anything about the school, but when I told her I wanted to take a picture for her sponsor, she threw her head wrap in the dirt and had me take the picture with her bear-headed. She seemed troubled by it all.

As soon as we pulled away, I asked Vincent why the girl was in a place that made Christians cover up. He said the father chose it for her. As I probed, I found that I had denied boarding school for this girl in trying to save the sponsors some money. The father had to find the cheapest school he could and this was it. I told Vincent to move her. We will have a policy of using no Muslim schools that are this strict in the future. We’ll move Unia after the fall term.

We picked up one more child at a nearby primary, then headed for the church. Lisa was supposed to help prepare for Women’s Night at 3:00. We called and they said for her to keep working. Now it was 4:00 so we headed for the church. The building was full of women.

Lisa will have to describe this for you. I wasn’t allowed to watch except for the matoki peeling contest. Lisa, Danielle, and Angela were all dressed in beautiful African dresses. That’s all I saw!

David and I went to the tiny office with a group that grew to about 15 men. We had a 1.5 hour open discussion time. Most of the time was spent talking about money issues. It required us to be on our toes!!

Everything was finished by 8:00.David and I made a lot of pictures of groups of ladies. Finally, I herded everyone into the van and Vincent brought us home.
All but David met for “dinner” an hour later. We turned in our order as we entered the property, but we still waited a full 30 minutes for our food! I had cream of mushroom soup once again. This time, I ordered chapatti (a fried Indian bread) instead of toast!

Tuesday, July 15: A Dusty Day in Kassanda

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 06:39:00 +0000

Tuesday, July 15: A Dusty Day in Kassanda

I can think of no better way to end a long, somewhat disappointing day than a night filled with power failures and ferocious fights among our wild dog guards! One of the fights must have lasted an hour, and that’s an hour of barking, growling, whining, chasing, and more barking.

I wasn’t feeling at all great. In fact, I was still fairly sick when I got up Tuesday. But it was our day in Kassanda and I didn’t want to miss it. So I went down and ate about ½ a normal breakfast, then we hurried to the room, packed, and backed to the van. Joseph, Vincent, and Grace were all along for today, but we knew we would need them. We had five schools to visit and six kids to see. And there was the problem of a latrine we had built for the church at Kassanda, which came in far over budget.

Vincent headed straight out of town on the Masaka Road. But in a round-a-bout near the edge of Kampala, we headed west while Masaka Road headed south. We stopped just after the round-a-bout at a tiny grocery store where we bought cookies, bread, and water. We decided we would have brown butter sandwiches once again!

This is a trip through beautiful countryside. There are tall hills and ridges and plunging valleys. Everything is green, shades of green that I’ve seen nowhere else. And there are flashes of red and purple and yellow as trees and vines produce flowers. There are fruit vendors and vegetable vendors. Some of the stands are manned, but some have a bucket for honor system payments.

And amidst all this beauty and wonder, there is a road that is beyond human imagination! It was once paved with some type of inch-thick material. But the paving has broken down into incredible pot holes. This is a road that has been under reconstruction since our first trip to Uganda. The plan seemed to be tear up the old road and put down new. The project hasn’t changed at all since Christmas, except that several of the one lane wide patches have been pulled out and nothing else put down.

So the road is a combination of a paved side and a dirt side, two paved sides with huge holes, and no pavement at all. Driving becomes a game of trying to hurt your passengers as little as possible. So Vincent would always attempt to drive on the paved part, even if it was on the wrong side of the road. When he was doing this, he would have to hurry back to his side of the road (dirt and pot holes) every time a vehicle came toward him. He would have to be particularly quick when the vehicle was a gigantic, overloaded transfer truck! He actually ignored oncoming boda bodas, forcing them off the shoulder while they were driving on their side of the road!

And there is another thing about this drive: it is suddenly much easier to see the vistas. If you look closely enough, you will see the stumps where the logging companies have come through. This was an area of national forests, several in a row in fact. They protected a huge environment for birds and animals. And now they are mostly gone. Over the last few years, there has been a lot of controversy about allowing clear cutting of the jungle in some of the forests, like these. I wasn’t so familiar with this road that I could point out each cutting, but when I asked Joseph if this was an area where much cutting had happened, he confirmed it. The saddest thing is much of the land is now being used for nothing but regrowth of underbrush. There are a few new matoki fields and even an area that appeared to have been replanted with a pine tree, but most of trees were cut to make a quick buck.

The road suddenly improves near Mityana Town, a rather large village that sits off the beaten path just a bit. It appeared to be nearly as large as Masaka in mass, but it wasn’t as crowded or as rushed. We stopped to visit a child there, Sekuwondo Ronald. We found that he had been sent home because his fees were delinquent. As we talked, I realized it was my fault. I understood that his mother had sent him to boarding school without talking to the Project, a common way to avoid the cost of feeding a growing boy. While it was true that he had moved to boarding without first asking permission, the reason was the school had ordered all S4 students to be boarding students for the year as they prepared for their S4 exams, which is also a very common thing for schools to do. Vincent said we could catch the boy at home and straighten this all out so we continued.

We visited one child, then moved to Mityana Secondary School where Ssenyondo Isa (Bob) studies. His English is perfect and his grades are spectacularly high. He is much a much stronger than most in this school, so we will look for a better placement when he starts S5 next year. We saw our impact again with this boy. Last year when I met Isa, he was troubled because he wanted to be a doctor but wasn’t doing as well in Biology as the physical sciences. I mentioned in passing that Uganda no doubt needed doctors, but it also needed engineers. His strengths were physics and math, so he said he would think about it. He came running to us when he saw our van to tell me that he had investigated engineering and that was certainly where he needed to be. I gave him 25 words off-the-cuff and he changed his career goals. These kids need our visits because there is often no one else for them to talk to about these things. As we left him, Isa made us promise to talk with Bob about sending him a photograph!

We stopped to visit with Juliet (Carol) next. Juliet got pregnant about two years ago when she was still in primary school. Juliet had asked the Project if we would stand with her during her time away from school. I spoke with Carol, her sponsor, and she agreed to give the girl the opportunity to finish her studies. She is in S1 and doing okay, though she says it is very difficult. Her mother keeps the baby while she is at school, and she seemed very happy.

Our next stop was a small primary school in Kassanda only a shot distance from the church. Nansubuga Faith (Clark and Sharon) and Mubiru Michael (Gary and Terry) are two others that began with us long ago. Nansubuga has great English and a very well developed sense of humor for a fifth grader. Michael has grown from a tiny boy into a tough fourth grader. His English is also very good. These kids seemed so excited to see us, and they were really excited about their blankets and basin.

This was our last school for the day. We now shifted to church matters. We found a few people waiting for us at the Kassanda church. We went in and took seats. Joseph said that Pastor Fatuma, the senior pastor here, would be along in a few minutes and we should prepare to eat our sandwiches. I went to work making them, but Daniele and Angie soon took over. They did a much better job!

While we were preparing, Fatuma came in carrying food. She always fixes food, even though right now she is sick. She brought boiled cassava, fresh avocado, and corn. We ate a little bit of cassava (no taste at all) and avocado (wonderful) but, based on personal experience with a piece of this last year, left the corn for others to eat. All decided they wanted a sandwich so we had to switch to halfs. We sat in the church and ate. This is always a peaceful place, and today was no exception.

During lunch, Grace then the drummer at Kassanda amazed us with their skill. When we had finished, Fatuma insisted that we go to her house. When we got there, we found a very curious thing. Fatuma’s mother is very old. She has lived in this house with Fatuma since our first visit to Kassanda. Her mother is healthy, but she is blind. Last year when she came to greet us, she bumped into furniture.

Today, she walked out on her own and shook Joseph’s hand. She described shirts on men across the room. Fatuma says she sees normally now. She says it is a result of prayer! I don’t know how good her vision is today, but I do know the furniture isn’t in danger when she passes by today!

David said a prayer for Fatuma and her family, then we got back in the car and drove to Kassanda’s new property. This is a beautiful piece of property on the side of a hill on the other side of Kassanda proper. We have had a bit of trouble getting the title, then once we had it, we were told the latrine had to meet new environmental specifications. This added tremendously to the cost, but last winter, Dan Kato, one of the elders at Kiwatule, told us he could build all that was required for $500. I funded this, then learned he wanted $200 more. I wouldn’t release that money without seeing the situation.

So we found the latrines completed from all external appearances. However inside, the floors weren’t complete and the holes in the concrete for the actual toilets had not been cut. There was also a bit of roofing remaining. The story was that Dan expected volunteers from the church to help him. In fact, no one showed up. He ended up having to go into town and hire a crew to work with him. And that’s how he ran out of money. Fatuma will need to answer why no volunteers came after she promised them, but it appears that Dan did a good job with the funds entrusted to him.

A few weeks ago, I received an email from the Kassanda Cornerstone Project. It basically said that we were doing a similar ministry and they would like to talk to me. Last week, I received a message saying they had read our blog and wanted me to drop by while I was in Kassanda. So we did! The director was out, but one of his assistants talked to us and showed us pictures of their work. They run a sponsorship program like ours. They are also involved in training for area residents. They are very geographically focused and currently have little support. If you have a minute, Google them!

The assistant called the director and he soon arrived. He was glad to see us, but kept talking about our return to Canada. It appears he has been Googling Uganda and sending notes to anything he finds that is remotely similar to his work. So it appeared that we really surprised him by actually dropping in. The day was slipping away, so we only stayed a few minutes. We agreed to stay in touch.

After only 2 hours, we arrived in Kampala once again. I asked Vincent when we started to stop and get drinks for everyone. He didn’t get around to it until we were in the city. Everyone went in and selected a drink. I selected a liter of mango juice!

I told Vincent we had decided to stay in, so we would eat at the Guesthouse. I suggested they could join us if they wanted to. He wasn’t overjoyed. When we got to the Guesthouse, he said they would come back in 45 minutes, which gave us a few minutes to go up and unwind.

We all met in the restaurant. Everyone ordered, and we waited well over an hour for our food. But this gave us some time to relax and chat about things other than kids and budgets. The food was fine, as it has been each night. I had to cut back. I had Beef Ragout again, and ended up eating the ragout over rice and giving the beef away.

We went directly back to our room. I worked on the blog and Lisa worked on her presentation for tomorrow. She has her women’s meeting from 4:00 until 7:00 tomorrow!

Monday, July 14: Kampala (Again)

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 06:37:00 +0000

Monday, July 14: Kampala (Again)

I decided to make the whole trip today. We are scheduled to go to Kassanda tomorrow. It is about two hours there and back, so I needed to test my stamina a bit.

Vincent picked us up at 8:30. I made it to the van without getting sick! It was the coolest morning since our arrival, probably in the upper 60’s. It was also overcast during this season when it doesn’t rain. The folks here say that the rainy seasons are all messed up. They don’t have an explanation, but they can describe the changes well, and this wasn’t supposed to be a rainy time!

Our first order of business was to exchange money. I was all but out, so it was important to do it early. Vincent has been taking us to a group of exchangers at a hotel downtown. The places aren’t run by banks, but they operate openly so I’ve reasoned that they must be operating legally. Today, we pulled in and found the rates down a small bit. Lisa and I started to get out. One guy started yelling that I was committed to his place. Another said I had promised him. A third said to come to him. So I did the logical thing: we got back in the van and left them to argue among themselves.

We were going to Garden City for the Internet Café anyway. So we ducked into the bank there. We lost $1 compared to the rate at the other places. One problem, however. This place only gives out 10,000 shilling notes. So buying over a million shillings left me with over a hundred bills to keep up with!

The Internet Café was fairly well packed with mostly European travelers. Within a few minutes, each of us had a computer. Mine ran Office 07 and had an accessible USB port. I thought I would have the blog posted in no time, but I bought 40 minutes (about 75 cents) of connection time. First, there was a setting on the computer that wouldn’t allow me to post to the blog. I worked out the issue and corrected it. And as soon as I did, the power went out! So after 30 minutes, I had one post and my computer was dead. Slowly, computers started coming back until it was only two of us waiting. Then they came on, but neither of us were connected to the server following the crash. When that was done, I had about 3 minutes left, so I bought 40 more. The system stayed up until I had finished, but the result was we lost 1.5 hours playing with the Internet.

On the way out, we stopped at Uchumi once again. We bought water and a few other essentials. I was actually feeling a bit hungry so I bought some chocolate and an energy drink. This thing is bottled in Uganda. It’s a tropical fruit flavored concoction that contains no caffeine and, although I’m not sure it impacts energy at all, it goes down well when you aren’t feeling right.

At 11:00, we went to our first school for the day. Grace went in, and we watched a group of young secondary school boys playing soccer. They were using a ball which, back when it had all its air, had probably been intended for volleyball. And they played on a paved basketball court with tiny make-shift goals at each end. The goals were so small that the goalies easily blocked them by simply standing there. Shot after shot went wide or was blocked. We were wondering if there would ever be a score when the sky opened! The boys were instantly gone, along with their ball, but the strange little goals stood witness to the scoreless match held that Monday before the rain.

It absolutely poured rain, and after more than an hour, there was no sign of either Grace or of the rain letting up. Finally, Vincent called Grace’s phone. It rang from her purse in the back seat. So we drove up a steep hill to the administration building for this huge high school, but there was no sign of Grace. Vincent drove behind the administration offices and along every road he could find, but we didn’t see her. I’m not completely sure we would have seen her if we ran over her. It was raining that hard!

We drove back to our original parking place and Vincent opened the door to get out. Lisa stopped him. Her mother had bought us both rain ponchos that fold down small and fit perfectly in a back pack. Vincent readily agreed to wear one. He put on the bright orange poncho and hood and jumped out into the deluge. He went up the hill on the side opposite where we drove and disappeared in the administration building.

After about five minutes, we saw the parka returning. But instead of the poncho residing firmly on Vincent’s back, he had taken it off and he, Grace, and Mugagga Solomon (Cindy) were wearing it, or they had it spread over their heads. They looked like a monster in progress at an animation studio.

But the strangeness of their attire didn’t slow them at all. They dashed to the van and into the sliding door. Everyone had shifted around so that each easily found a seat. We learned that Mugagga is doing very well in school and he was most appreciative of the help we’ve given him.

By the time we had finished talking with him, the rain had slowed to a sprinkle. Mugagga shook hands with everyone and left us. We had lost 1.5 hours at our first school!

We drove a short distance to another secondary school and saw two of our students without much of a wait. Our next target was Lubiri Secondary School where Kazibwe Samuel (Carolyn) is enrolled. Grace went in while we waited in the van. She came back without Samuel because he was at lunch. We thought he would pass the van as he finished eating so we waited a total of 45 minutes then decided to save Samuel for later.

You know you’re having a bad day when a gate guard won’t let you in a school, even after our reason for being there is carefully explained. This man simply said, “NO!” He wouldn’t let us in. He wouldn’t go ask anyone. He simply stood on the locked side and glared at us. He let a group of students out, but quickly locked it again. Finally, Vincent said enough to make him wonder and he left us at the gate while he walked up a hill and across campus to the head master’s office. After a while, he came back and unlocked the gate without comment.

This is a great school with two great kids. We’ve had both Kizito Isaac (Charles and Deborah) and Mubiru Allen (Martha) in the program since it started. Kizito joined when he entered secondary school. He is now in S6 preparing to take his final exams. His results will determine where and whether he can go on to the university about a year from now. He hopes to be an architect. Allen was just a baby when he started with us. He entered secondary school this year, and is doing well. He’s still very shy.

At Mugwanya Summit College, we saw, once again, how important letters are to these sponsored kids, even the ones who aren’t kids any more. Mbazirra Emanuel, who is in his first year of high school, was very quiet when we arrived. He answered our questions in as few a words as possible. He thanked us for his gifts. But when Grace pulled out a letter from his sponsor, Herb, Mbazirra lit up. He asked all kinds of questions and he was so excited to have Herb’s picture that he wanted us to make his picture holding Herb’s picture!

We went back and found Kazibwe without much trouble and it was time to call it a day. We visited five schools and saw six students. The rain, which haunted us most of the day, really slowed us. But so did having only one child per school!

It was after 4 and we’d had nothing since breakfast. Vincent took us to Shanghai, perhaps my favorite restaurant in Kampala. The décor looks very much like Hong Kong and I’ve never had a bad dish there. We were starved, so I ordered a lot – duck, chicken, lamb, squid, and beef. It was a great end to a not-so-great day.

There were several problems. The rain certainly didn’t help. It wasn’t very good having to shoot photos from the front to the middle van seat. But we were missing Jeff! This was his first day not to be with us, and that is always hard. We had settled into a very good team, and his presence was really missed.

But in retrospect, it might have been good that Jeff wasn’t along. I’m afraid the horrendous waits would have strained his newly found Ugandan patience!

Sunday, July 13: A Better Day

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:55:00 +0000

I slept some Saturday night, but with nothing but a little soup on my stomach from Saturday, I was terribly weak. We started to the lobby where everyone was getting ready to leave. Jeff walked with us down the slope to the main building. “I might as well tell you,” he said, “David isn’t happy. He got up this morning and he realized that I’d worn his pants the other day.”

David and his story were waiting when we walked into the lobby. “He wore my pants! Can you believe it? He wore my pants. They’re the only dress pants I have here, and he wore them. Now I have to wear these hiking pants to preach in.”

“Well, you’ll remember me telling you I thought I was losing weight the other day,” said Jeff. “It wasn’t that. I just had on big pants.”

They went to the van discussing the pants issue. Lisa and I went into the restaurant area. I ordered scrambled eggs and ate about 1/2 of an egg. I had part of a piece of toast and tea.

After breakfast, we walked up to our room. The maids were working on our hall, so Lisa told them we would go out for a while so that they could clean. We drug chairs from an alcove on the second floor onto a balcony and read for a while. When we went back in, our room was fresh and clean. I took a long nap while Lisa read.

Our plan had been to go to lunch with a group from church. I decided I was probably up for that, as long as it wasn’t hot. The temperature was probably less than 70. It was overcast and trying to rain. David found a new place to try while he was with Michael on Wednesday. It was in the Kiwatule Recreation Area, only about two miles from the church. So Vincent brought everyone to the Guesthouse to change, then took us back to the church. We loaded the van and Joseph took his car. There were 14 of us in all.

I haven’t seen a place quite like this in Uganda. It’s a huge field with kid-friendly sculptures (hippos and monkeys and such) There are thatched roof huts scattered about and they are served by a restaurant. There are three swimming pools and a cultural village (whatever that might be). So we sat down in Hut 1. Vincent didn’t like the location so he had us moved to Hut 5. The waitress came quickly and took the complicated order. We were left to talk among ourselves for two hours or more. Jeff was feeling anxious to get home, and the wait was murder for him!

While we were waiting, Dan and Robinah came quietly over to Lisa and me. Dan was carrying a card. “Elder Jim, would you please accept our card?” It was a thank you card from Elisha, their son, who turned one in June. When we saw Elisha in December, he was fretful and whiney. He had a huge hernia protruding from his belly, and he seemed to be in pain. The doctors had said they wanted to wait as long as possible before the operated on him. In February, I got an email saying the boy was much worse and he needed the surgery as soon as possible. We worked out a deal for us to pay for the surgery and Dan to repay a portion of it. The boy was cured and now eats and plays and cries no more than a normal 1 year old!

So Robinah’s card, written as though it were from Elisha, thanked us for helping him and asked us to please receive his gift. Robinah handed us a painting of a giraffe. They handed the painting to me, then turned and went back to their seats.

I didn’t order fish because I was concerned about the amount of grease. Jeff was concerned, too, given the flight he was about to take. He ordered chicken. When the food came, there were several surprises. First, every one of the fish had some kind of red, tomato sauce on it. The fish were whole and huge, but they tasted more grilled than fried (at least the one miniscule piece Lisa shard with me tasted like it had been grilled). Jeff’s chicken was another surprise. It looked as though they had cut a section of chicken from end to end (it was either that or a small alien fell into the deep fryer). The cut through the bone worked, but there was no meat on it at all. And it looked very strange. I don’t think he ate a bite of lunch. I had a couple of French fries.

After lunch, we went to the cultural village. Getting there was most interesting. The signed path stopped at a railroad track where a smallish choo choo ran for the kids. David said we had to walk the tracks for just a little while, a significant feat for me and my cane! After a hundred yards or so, we turned off the tracks and down a few steep stairs to a path into a large field.

This was a most amazing display. Several traditional structures stood in the field. As we moved into the village, however, we found it was a number of villages. Each village was built in the traditional style of a Ugandan tribe. Each village had at least a family setting where a father and his wife and kids would live. They also had support buildings like kitchens and food storage huts. Some of the huts were furnished with musical instruments as well as beds, etc. At least one of the huts had a permanent visitor living in it.

We finished walking through the display. We had avoided rain, even though we heard a bit of thunder for about the last hour we were out. We finally walked back to the van. Vincent mentioned along the way that the university students wanted to talk with me at 4:00. It was a little after 5:00 when we got there. I told everyone to wait. I expected this would be a plea for lab tops or boarding expenses or transportation.

But it wasn’t! Poshal Samuel (P. W. and Lois) was there to lead the group. He stood up and introduced himself as the newly elected chairman of the Association to Sustain the Impact. As Samuel, our second graduate from the project certificate in computers, explained it, the Project had impacted each of the people in the room. It was now their responsibility to sustain the impact and make it grow. He introduced the other officers (seven in all with eleven attending members). He had a three page speech prepared.

Once he’d finished, he introduced Jacinta (Dan and Lisa). Jacinta explained that she was not the kind of person who said thank you all the time. She said the fact that she was talking should show us that this is very important to her. She said she finished S6 with excellent scores, but she knew that her mother has having a very hard time paying for her two primary school siblings. How could she even think about asking for more than 1 million shillings per year. So she actually sat out of school for a year, until she heard about us. It was December 2003 when Dan and I went to Uganda. We met her at the church and Dan said he wanted to help her. So he had Vincent drive him to the university and he went with her to all the offices so that they were sure she was registered. “I can do that for other kids,” said Jacinta. “I can go with them and take away some of the fear.”

Samuel promised computer help for any who needed it. Jacinta promised business and accounting. In a few minutes, many new tutors were identified. They said they would meet with the secondary students from time to time to make sure they were not becoming discouraged.

After two more speakers, I knew that Jeff was going nuts in the van. So when Joseph asked me to talk, I did it very quickly. I hated to cut this short because this was the moment we’ve been waiting for: an actual indication that a group of our kids here in Uganda get it!!

We had Jeff at the airport by a little after 7:00 for his 11:50 flight. We were all very sad to see Jeff leave. God brings to Uganda those who need to be here. It will be exciting to see how God uses Jeff!

The ride back took much longer. Traffic had more than doubled during Jeff’s unloading and departure. We crawled through the night on the narrow, two lane road as people passed on both the right and left and boda bodas darted in and out of the slow moving mob. We returned to the hotel a little after 9:00.

Saturday, July 12: An Eventful Day

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:53:00 +0000

I slept very, very little Friday night. I was starving for water but I couldn’t keep it down. I tried to go because this was the big Saturday School presentation, but I got sick again before we made it to the van.

A first: I had been a bit sick before in Uganda, but never so sick that I had to stay back. And it was on the very day of the Saturday School Program, the trip to the zoo, and the Turkish Restaurant!!

So my eventful day was filled with events you don’t want to hear about. But the team had a very eventful day, and Lisa is going to tell you about it! So welcome our guest blogger!!

This entry must start with a Friday night update, Jim began getting sick as soon as we arrived back on Friday night. It was a long night and we both hoped that it would all be over by morning. When it was time to get up on Saturday morning, Jim followed through on all routines that we had established in the first week. He was dressed and ready to give it a try as we headed down to the lobby to meet the others. But unfortunately it soon became all too apparent that Jim was not going out with us this day.

We left the team and Vincent and Joseph in the lobby and I followed Jim back to our room. I needed to be sure that he was able to get all the way back to the room, he was that sick and help him get set up for the day. What I had realized on the walk back was that I needed to get the money for the day from him, as well as the camera that we are using for all the photos of the sponsored children! He pulled out a stack of shillings and handed them to me. My heart sank! Jim has always handled everything on all the trips. I didn’t even really understand the exchange rate without having to stop and count on my fingers. If not for the courage of the fearless team the day would surely be lost!

So, I walked quickly back to the lobby and explained that Jim wasn’t going to make it and we headed off.

This was the first Saturday School for the Texas team to experience and the first official Saturday School for Jeff to be a apart off! These are always a big treat because the children have been working on songs for the visitors. The choir sang several songs back to back. They do it in a style that is very compelling. Each songs melts into the next as the soloist changes. The stage was packed with young singers. This is new. In the past there have been several singers but now it is shoulder to shoulder with singers. I grab the video camera and head to the front. I am doing just fine then it hits me as I start to recognize faces! Our children are growing up! In the front line of the choir stand Mugisha Moses ( Linda and Jack) . He had been in baby class on David and Jim’s first trip over! He had won Jim’s heart when he slowly made his way down the aile, up onto the stage, and into Jim’s lap everytime Jim came to church for a service. The other children were turned back but for some reason Moses always made it through the adults watchers. Now, a P4 student he stood proudly with his friends and sang and danced! I knew how proud Jim would be of him but for now Jim will have to wait until we get home to see the video of Moses.

Next up in the program, Bbale Jonathan (Wayne) called up Dorren (Leila), Patrica (Brady-Friendship Class), and a third young girl up on the stage for a song. If you have ever seen our video of the melt-your-heart little girl lead her class in “Color Yellow, color Green………” you have met Dorren. She is now in P4 and quite a young lady. She is a total orphan but her original headmistress has taken her in as her own daughter. Then there was Patrica. Patrica won Jim’s heart over on the first trip too. She has been taken in by one of the first administrators of our program. Her parents were heading back to the village and planning to take Patrica back with them. But it was arranged for her to stay in the home with this family and she still stays with them. She is still in school and singing in the choir. I tried to tell her where Jim was today but I could see disappointment in her eyes.

There was a new and significant person helping with Saturday School. His name is Ben and the children call him Uncle Ben. He is a young, enthusiastic man who seems to have a real love for Christ and the children. He has started helping when the folks who had been helping with the children had responsibilities at their universities on Saturdays. He talked to the children about how other people had believed in them by sponsoring them and sending their school fees. He challenged the children to do their very best because others believed in them. This was just the message that Jim would have delivered if he had made it. I was glad that Uncle Ben understood the purpose of the program and shared it so well with the children!

Then things got really crazy! The children had finished their singing. Jeff had brought baseball caps that his sons had donated to the children in the project. Grace had a list of top students and called them to the stage. Jeff explained that the hats were his sons’ favorite and that they wanted the children in the program to have them. The list of children was called and Jeff presented the hats. The children beamed as they wore their new hats.

Next, there were gifts for the children that we had missed during the week and photos to be taken. I knew from past experiences how crazy this could be! Kim took over 100 pictures at the Saturday school she attended. Jim had arranged it with Vincent and Grace to see most of the children in the schools, so I knew that it would be that bad. Only problem was that I didn’t know how many children had actually come today. With David as my trusted photographer we headed to the back of the office. The space is about five feet wide and twelve feet long, now that the land lord has added another office building. Today it was a perfect place for photos because it was not rainy and the sun was cooperating. Grace was handing out blankets and basins in a precision style. We had arrived to this space after it had begun so I begged her to finish and then we could start at the beginning with photos. She helped me out and agreed to my request! David was my saving grace. As Grace called one child after the other, David would kindly check with me before taking the photo to be sure I had recorded he number as well as the visual clue to help identify the child easily once we get back home with all the photos! …With David the photographer…

With this complete we gathered up the zoo crew and headed out to the food court at Garden City mall. Today’s group included: Kirundi Mathis (Jim and Lisa), Bbale Jonathan (Wayne), Kigali Elijah (Leila), Nakawuma Allen (Judy and Al), and Kisadye Grace (Will and Patty). All these students had been selected because they were top students. Our first stop was for diesel for the van. I had almost tearfully asked Jeff to serve as my banker as we stepped off the porch of Kipling House, as we began the day. I knew that I would get terribly lost alone trying to keep up with the costs for the day’s events. Jeff had quickly agreed to be my banker for the day….With Jeff the Banker….

Next was the food court. Now, the food court would look to you like any U.S. food court. Only difference is the level of customer service or shall be say customer manhandling. As we sat down the group is rushed by representatives of each restaurant with menus that they push in front of you. Then they stand over you whispering in your ear which items that you should choose. It is all very overwhelming! The team really helped out. David and Jeff served as the point men and tried to ward off some of the most aggressive representatives in an effort to give the children a chance to decide. Soon every one had placed an order, except Jeff and David who had been busy. They placed their orders and joined us at the table. We all tried our best, adults and children, to have conversations as we waited for our food. Angela is very good at getting the children to open up and Danielle just has a natural ability to reach them. …..and Angela and Danielle.. The day would not be lost.

Vincent let me know as our food came that he had heard from Jim and that he was feeling better. This made me feel much better and I was able to enjoy my lunch. Most the children chose chicken and fries and soda to drink. With so many new experiences, a familiar food must have been helpful.

Once we finished eating we had to pay! This was where Jeff, the banker, came to bat! The restaurant representatives are equally as eager to get their bill paid for as they are to sell their food. So, as soon as they saw that Jeff was paying for the meals, he was covered up! He skillfully managed to pay each receipt and get change back and pay the next. I am afraid that I failed to give him the money fast enough and he put in some of his shillings too! I will always be in debt to Jeff for coming to my help for this! I know that left alone I would have been under the table crying! Thanks Jeff! This also really made me realize what Jim keeps up with on a daily basis for every trip over!!

Next stop the zoo! We all napped, except Vincent, on the way to the zoo. The zoo is near the airport about a forty-five minute ride. As we pasted the tip of Lake Victoria the students gasped and began to trade trivia that they had all learned about the lake in school.

Friday, July 11: Kampala III

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:47:00 +0000

I’m not sure if I’ve explained the window situation here at the Kolping House. If you are in one of the front-facing rooms, you have a huge window that everyone walks past. It’s hard to keep the curtains closed. As an example, during our last trip I looked toward a window when I heard a man speaking very loudly. There stood a huge, fat, naked guy yelling at someone and hitting his hand in his fist.

Also during our last stay here, I was standing looking out my second floor window (fully clothed, I might add) when two kids from the house next door shouted “Mzungu” and waved at me. So I was glad to have a rear-facing room first floor room: facing the wrong way for prying eyes and too low for the neighbors to watch. But there is one little problem. When they built the Kolping House, they dug down about six feet before building. That means our big window is just barely above ground level. And that our bathroom window is, too. Now the problem is all the laundry is boiled in huge vats behind the building. And the laundry hangs on lines to dry. So there’s a fairly steady stream of workers behind the building. And there is NO WAY to close up that bathroom window. When you’re taking a shower (unless you do it at night with the lights off), you’re fair game!

So Friday began with Lisa telling me there was no hot water. We went down for a quick breakfast before I tried my shower, but when we came back, the water was still ice cold. And the sun was up. So I turned on the faucet rather than the shower and splashed. Then I contorted underneath the icy flow and washed my hair. And when I stood up, a lady was hanging sheets on the line about 15 feet from me!

Vincent picked us up at 8:00. I started to whine to him about having no hot water this morning, but it dawned on me that this man, in his entire life, had never had hot water from a tap. For him to have hot water, he would have to go to the village pipe or to the stream and draw water, carry it back, warm it on a fire, and pour it over himself. So I decided not to complain about one chilly morning.

Our third day of visiting kids in Uganda. With only a few exceptions, we were down to one or two students per school. So at every stop, Grace and/or Vincent go in and talk to the school officials while we wait in the car. They come back and we get out. We stand until the sponsored child is found. We talk to the child, snap a picture, and present the gift (wash basin and blanket). We get back in the van and go to the next school!

We stopped first at Kitante Primary School where we met Doreen (Leila). You might have seen her in our videos, a precocious three year old leading the baby class in reciting their colors. She’s now in fourth grade. Both of her parents are dead, so her old principal from her baby class days has taken her in and is giving her a place to live. She’s all grown up now, a confident little girl who is beautiful and shy.

A few schools later, we stopped at Bright Futures. This is a school started by the Mubirus in their (our) church building. They’ve built a small building and completely fill it with students. They are familiar with Mzungu visitors, so the shouts started as soon as they saw us coming. A class was in the school yard when we pulled up and we were simply mobbed by laughing, happy kids! They pulled on us and hugged us and tried to check our pockets to see if we had anything for them. There was simply a drove of kids! We stayed for half and hour or more. Danielle sang with them and Angie talked with them and hugged them. Jeff was bombarded, too. David slipped into the school to film the terrible conditions there. Chalk boards served as walls between classrooms. It was dark. There was hardly room to breathe. But the graduates of this elementary school are doing well as they continue their studies, a tribute to Harriet, the head mistress.

At St. Francis Primary, we saw Viola (Cindy). This is another girl we’ve visited since kindergarten. She used to be tiny and shy. Now she’s a sixth grader. She is tall, her English is quite good, and she isn’t afraid to show it off.

In all, we visited eight schools before lunch. We asked Vincent to take us to a real Ugandan place, so he selected Tastey Budz. Tastey serves pizza and hamburgers. It isn’t the least bit Ugandan but it’s one of our hosts’ favorite places. So we went into the brightly lit fast food shop and pointed to our food on the menu. Jeff had a pineapple, banana, and bacon pizza. David and the girls split a large cheese pizza. Lisa and I split a medium pepperoni pizza. Grace and Vincent tried other things from the menu. The pizzas were thickly covered with cheese, but no real tomato paste. Ours had several layers of cheese on a thin crust with a lot of greasy pepperoni slices thrown on. We were starving, so it tasted pretty good!

After lunch, we pulled into a secondary school. The head mistress invited us in and told us they were having an event. She said we were welcome to attend if we wanted to. She said she would announce the names of our children once everyone was settled in. She led us across a soccer field to a series of tents where she found us seats. There were a few students under the tent with us, all decked out in their uniforms. There officials of some kind sitting at the front of the tent with a number of trophies. Huge speakers blasted out reggae and hip hop, We sat for a while, but there was no indication whatsoever that the students were settling down. In fact, most of them (as in several hundred) were still standing across the field looking at the tents. So Vincent walked across into the mass of students and returned with Sarah Eseri (Doug and Linda). I have no idea how he found her in the confusion, but find her he did! She was very shy at first, but really opened up to Angie and Danielle. There was another student, but Vincent was less lucky finding him. Since there was no indication at all that the festivities would begin in the next year, we decided to leave. As we were leaving, we saw the journalist who reminded me about our appointment on Saturday.

Two more quick stops at high schools, then we went shopping! I wanted to go into the shops near the theater. Vincent didn’t want to go there, but he did and there were no parking places at all. So we went to the other craft shops, a series of shacks and cargo containers sitting on the side of a hill. While we shopped, David went across the street to a coffee shop that sent us home with green coffee beans a few years ago. The man gave David a few samples, but nothing more. Jeff shopped quickly. Lisa and I were the hold up. We wanted to get nativity scenes and batiks and it takes a while to sort through these things.

We saw 25 kids in 12 schools before the day was over, and we shopped for nearly an hour. I was completely beat, so I asked if we could eat at the Guesthouse. Everyone agreed. I sat down for a minute, and then I was too sick to get up.

For the first time in 9 trips to Uganda, I was REALLY sick!

Thursday, July 10: Masaka

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:47:00 +0000

Our destination today was Masaka, which is always shown as one of Uganda’s other large cities. We had been near Masaka at Christmas when we went down to the area for Michael’s father’s funeral. It is nearly 200 kilometers from Kampala, and it lies south of the equator on Masaka Road, which leads to Tanzania, Rwanda, and beyond. We have 3 children in Masaka, al there as a result of moves from a much closer area. Joseph and Vincent didn’t want to go to Masaka because they said it was too far to see only 3. I suggested we could use our time coming back to visit several schools along the Masaka Road outside the city of Kampala. When they checked, we would be able to see 22 kids by doing things this way!

But it was 200 kilometers away, so the Joseph, Vincent, and Grace showed up at 6:00 a. m. to take us. David wasn’t with us because he had responsibilities at the church. Everyone else was down on time, but Angie had asked about getting breakfast before we left. The same sweet soul who waited on us the evening before met us in the lobby to tell us she had prepared breakfast for us all. She even offered eggs. So I asked Joseph and Vincent to eat first, and they did. It slowed us by 30 minutes, but it saved us an hour-long tea break!

We were finally on the road around 6:30. There was little traffic and, at first, few pedestrians as we wove through the city. By the time we reached the market at the edge of the city, Kampala was coming to life. The sidewalks were packed with people and the stalls appeared to be stuffed as soon as the proprietor opened his shop. Traffic began to build, but I really didn’t care. It was fascinating to watch this huge, complex city come to life!

After we left the market, the traffic evaporated and the number of pedestrians shifted completely. Instead of workers on their way to work and shoppers on their way to shop, we saw school children. The average age of those on the street was suddenly considerably less than 20! Each school had its own colors from yellow to dark blue to white too a green found only here. The distance clicked by, measured not in miles or kilometers, but in the area of blue uniforms followed by the green and the red. We were in Uganda, where directions this morning might be, “Go past the white shirts and the green sweaters until you reach the dark blue skirts. Turn there.”

There were second graders leading pre-kindergartners. There were clusters of high school students, far too cool to wave at us, but once one did, the whole group broke into waves and smiles. Our progress toward Masaka was no longer measured. There were laughing children everywhere, chasing and running with no one to chase or be chased by.

And there were huge trucks carrying matoki and mattresses and who knows what. These 18 whellers barreled along the road at unbelievable speeds. “I feel much safer knowing that each of these trucks has recently passed a thorough safety inspection,” said Jeff as we passed a matoki-filled truck with a broken rear axle. It was the fourth broken down mega-truck in about five miles. Masaka Road is a very dangerous place for cars, but especially for the running, giggling kids: a false step or a stumble could easily mean death.

But these are not the only risks on the Masaka Road. Uganda has a very large stork. It is black and white with a huge bill, and it stands more than four feet tall. It has very long bony legs and a wingspan of more than six feet, with some quite a bit more than that. They eat dead things, so they look like undertakers as they stand in fields or on top of buildings in Kampala.

We pointed out a field full of these scary birds to Angie as we rolled along at about 100 kph. She said, “I hope I never have a close encounter with one of those.” There were two storks beside the road feasting on some kind of road kill and as soon as “those” left her lips, one of the birds took off in front of our left front wheel. It jumped toward the middle of the grille of our van and as it did, it opened his huge wings. Two flaps got it high enough for its massive body to clear the van, then it straightened out its legs and started to flap in earnest. We grazed one of its gnarled feet, but not enough to change its flight path. Jeff was sitting in the shotgun seat, which is on the left side in a British car. One the bird jumped, he almost jumped over the seat. Were it not for his seatbelt, I think he very well might have joined us in the back! This bird probably weighed as much as a small dear.

Vincent squealed, but other than that, he just kept driving.

When we first talked about Masaka, neither Vincent nor Joseph wanted to go. “It is very far,” they said, “and we have only three children there.” But when I asked about the kids in Mpigi, there were three more there and we would pass by Mpigi en route. Then they started checking and found we had 22 kids off Masaka Road. By arranging things carefully, we could go all the way to Masaka, then spend the day coming back and stopping at these schools.

Our first stop was in a commercial area outside Masaka. We pulled over and Michael came walking up to the van. We knew this Michael from Kassanda. He was a police officer there and a minister in the church until his unit was mobilized as part of the UN Peacekeeping Force in Dar Four. He signed on for a year, but his commitment was extended to 18 months. His wife moved the family to her parent’s village (Masaka) so the good news was that Michael was home on furlough. The bad news was that the furlough was granted when his obligation was extended to two years. He said it was better there now than when he first went up, but it was still very dangerous. In fact he had received word that one of his fellow officers had been killed the day before by sniper fire.

Michael road with us to his daughter’s school. She was scared to death of us, which surprised me because when I visited their home as he was being called up, she was at least sort of friendly. We took her picture, then one with me. Michael told Lisa our visit would be something she remembered for the rest of her life.

His son had started at this school, but the pressure to convert from the Muslim leaders of the school forced Michael to move the boy. The daughter wasn’t experiencing this pressure, but Michael said the son didn’t want to go to school because it was so bad. We found him at his new school. He seemed happy and he said that he remembered me. He talked a bit, then he showed us his report card. He was 4 out of 52 students!

We returned Michael to the business area where we’d found him. He insisted on getting us a photocopy of his son’s grades before we parted. While we were waiting for him to return, Joseph told us about taxis in Masaka. They were small Hondas, all white, and they were everywhere. “They seat 11 people.”

“That’s not possible,” David said.

“It is, it is,” said Joseph. “There will be two in the driver’s seat, and two in the passenger’s seat with one more in the middle. Then, there will be six in the back.”

“I want to see one of these,” Jeff said. And within a few minutes, Joseph showed us a small Honda let out 11 passengers! The people were crammed in on top of each other.

“And if you complain, you are out,” said Grace.

While we were looking, Joseph also pointed out boda bodas with three adults squeezed in. We even found one with four adults! It was hard to believe that the little motor cycle would pull that much weight. And even harder to believe that the bicycle taxi drivers could pedal hard enough to carry two customers!

We drove through Masaka itself en route to the next school. It was far from a city! There were two three – story buildings and two streets of badly warn shops. It didn’t compare at all to the modern structures in Kampala or the fading glory of Jinja. It looked like a hundred other villages we’ve seen, only it’s main street ran on a bit further and there was a second, though short, parallel street. And there were tons of people!

We had one more visit in Masaka. It was another Muslim school, a situation where a mother was insisting that this was the right school. We pulled in a few minutes after 10:00 and Vincent went to see the head master. He refused to let us see the boy unless we waited for either break or lunch. The break was scheduled at 10:30. By then, it was only 15 minutes, so we waited. The boy seemed happy there and said he wasn’t being pressured to convert.

Vincent flew along the flat road. The flora here was a bit different from Kampala. There were naturally growing palm trees and the undergrowth was a bit less thick. The brick or mud houses were in the same style as Kampala. It was much, much flatter than the rolling hills around Kampala. After about an hour, we came to the equator, so Vincent pulled over. We wandered through shops for a bit then came out to watch the demonstration of how the equator impacts the flow of water down the drain. A man had three funnels with buckets underneath. On the north side, he poured the water into the funnel while holding his finger on the exit pipe. He used a piece of metal to steady the water then dropped in a flower. It turned as we would expect it to, and ran out the bottom of the funnel.

We then walked a few steps below the equator. When he did the same thing again, the flower went in the opposite direction. At a point marked as the equator, the flower didn’t turn at all. It simply rand through the hole. I would feel better about this if he used the same funnel each time. I know it’s true that water goes in the opposite direction below the equator, but I have no idea if the change occurs within only a few feet. And I have no idea if his “on the equator” thing even makes sense.

We walked to the end of the shops to a café. It was a great place, a large, high topped building with art and souvenirs everywhere. There was a counter at the back where food was being served. Our two Dallas ladies went for iced coffee drinks, but Lisa explained that the ice wasn’t safe. All the Americans ordered chicken wraps. All the Africans ordered muffins. I thought this wise because the other option was veggie wraps and I knew we shouldn’t eat them. We went out on a large porch and sat down in very comfortable chairs. There was a gentle breeze and it felt wonderful to sit in the shade.

Our food finally arrived and it was a disaster! The chicken wraps had guacamole all over them and they were stuffed with tomatoes. We ended up trading with our friends. They didn’t like them, and we weren’t wild about the muffins. In the end, Vincent got a doggie bag with one whole sandwich and 2/3 of another one.

Back in the van! Our first stops were the Mpigi schools. Last year, we found a young Brit running one of the schools and we were very curious to see if he was still around. We didn’t see any sign of him. These schools are a bit run down, but they often sit atop hills with sweeping views of valleys, hills, and ridges.

There was a very interesting school called Destiny Day and Boarding. It is run by the Pentecostal churches and it also has an orphanage. The school sits atop a ridge and is visible for miles from the road. There were several surprising things. First, Kabanda Charles (Wayne) was there. Kabanda quit school before Christmas. When I reported this to Wayne he asked me to personally find Kabanda during our Christmas trip and talk with him about his future. I did, and Kabanda agreed to stop working in the fields as his grandparents wanted and go to school. Vincent had moved him in as a boarder here, and he was brand new boy! He seemed happy and talkative. The head master said he was doing great!

The other big surprise was that both of Joseph’s boys and one of Michael’s had been moved into boarding here. That’s something that will require a bit of investigating!!

Vincent took me to meet the head master. He was very young and very professional. He explained that by the end of next year, they would have secondary 1 going, and all of secondary by the following year. He said there were new dorms underway and new classroom space. This is another of the regional schools we hope to use with a number of our children. There are 12 there now, and I expect there will be 15 next year.

Another couple of stops to see one child in each school, and our day was over. Traffic coming into Kampala was, as always, terrible, but Vincent squeezed us through! We pulled into the parking lot at 6:30, another 12 hour day!

I invited Vincent to eat with us, but he said he had to go to church. David came in while we were waiting on our food. He had been sick, so he didn’t eat. We all ordered starches from the menu (there are no other choices). I slept a lot as we drove, but it was still a very tiring day!

Wednesday, July 9: Kampala II

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:46:00 +0000

A most eventful day!

It started when we met David in the hall on the way out. He told us Danielle was sick and wouldn’t be able to come with us. We left her with our phone and Vincent’s number. She said she was planning to sleep.

We were off by 8:00. Our first stop was to exchange money. The rate was down by 10 shillings on the dollar. I wasn’t the only one behind on my blog, so we went to the Internet café in Garden City. The mall stores weren’t open yet, but the café was. We spent about an hour working on our blogs and emails. The one thing Kolping House needs to be the perfect Uganda hotel is a business center with Internet! While I was working on the blog, Lisa was shopping in the bookstore. She found a book for her classroom about some bunnies in Uganda.

Our schools were scattered around Kampala today. We went to two and saw a total of two kids! Scovia (Gary and Terry) was home sick. We are planning to go check on her next week if she isn’t back in school. We saw five kids at the next school, but they were taking a test so we could only snap a quick picture and send them on their way.

Kennedy Secondary School was our next stop. We were looking for Byakatonda Mary (Gary and Paula ), a very bright young woman who sometimes serves as an interpreter. We learned that Mary was sick with malaria. Vincent knew where she lived.

So we left the main road and drove about 2 miles on a wide, not-to-rutted dirt road. Vincent pulled up beside a small but very well kept house. There was a small store at the front of the house and sweet banana trees (as opposed to matoki) growing in neat rows behind it. Mary’s father brought all of us chairs from the house, and Mary joined us in a few minutes. She said she was feeling somewhat better and she thought she would be ready to return to school tomorrow. The problem is she would have to walk the miles we’d driven going and coming, so she would need to feel really well! She is a delightful girl and her English in perfect!

Vincent was anxious to come to this house because he recently bought some land where he is planning to build a house. The property is behind Mary’s house. It is flat and plenty large enough for a house and small garden. Right now, it is grown over with under-brush and a few banana plants. The corners of his plot were marked with pineapple plants. As we were walking back to the house, I looked into a pot that was boiling over a small fire. It was filled with an opaque pinkish substance with silvery minnows bubbling around in it. I assume it was their lunch, but I didn’t really want to know that. Mary’s father brought water for all of us from the store and we sat under the shade of a banana plant sipping our cool water.

A young man came up to me while I was finishing my water. “Sir, would you like to see my snakes, turtles, and chameleons?”

I stared at the man because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Every Ugandan I know is petrified of any reptile or amphibian. This one was asking about snakes. “Sir, would you like to see?”

“Where are these things?” I asked. I was a bit reluctant to go running off into the jungle with this man, even if we all went.

“They are in my yard, sir,” he said.

“You have snakes and lizards and turtles in your yard? What are they doing there?”

“We capture them. My brothers are out today gathering samples. We have permit. It is all legal.”

Who could possibly pass up a group of snakes, turtles, and lizards growing legally in a Ugandan back yard? I almost walked over the man in my excitement. We walked down a slope to the street then crossed it. The brick house sat about 50 feet from the road. We walked around the end of the house to see a row of white concrete walls which were about waste high. A series of cages sat at the back of the lot. There was jungle beyond these cages. Our new friend stopped at the back wall of his house and picked up a plastic anti-freeze container. It was bright yellow and had holes punched in its plastic side near its mouth. He shook the container and a small snake fell out. He called it a house snake and said it wasn’t harmful. When he reached for it, the snake tried its very best to bite him. He let it settle down then picked it up and let it wrap around his hand. The snake was gray about a foot long and thinner than a pencil.

After a few minutes of playing with the snake and letting us take pictures, he returned it to its yellow home and picked up a red container. “This one contains the yellow cobra,” he said in a grave voice. He unscrewed the top and looked into the container, but this time, he kept his face far from the opening. “It is in there,” he said as he continued to look into the container. Finally, he poured the contents of the container onto the grass. There were three slugs and two snakes. “The other one is the house snake,” he took a stick and separated the two snakes. “and this is the deadly yellow cobra.” As if on cue, the 14 inch black snake raised its head off the grass. It immediately flattened out its neck and began to weave back and forth, exactly as snakes do on television. There was a gold mark on its chest. It struck at anything that moved near it. After a minute, it dropped back into the grass. David wanted a picture so he started to kick the snake.

“What are you doing,” I yelled.

“My boots are snake proof, said David. “Don’t you remember? That’s what the box said.”

“A cobra isn’t the time to test to make sure it’s true!” The snake raised up again based on the aggravation David had already caused it. He got his picture!

The man told us he collected wild game for customers in the UK and Japan. He said he has all his permits and he treats the animals very well. As he talked, he returned the cobra and house snake to their home. He led us across his yard to the four waste high concrete enclosures.

“Here are turtles,” he said as he reached into one of the concrete enclosures. He took out six turtles. He then went to the next enclosure and pulled out two larger turtles with yellow patterns on their shell. He explained something about one of the turtles coming from dry climate and one from wet but I wasn’t paying attention. I had walked past the enclosures to four cages at the back of the lot.

“They are empty,” he called to David and me. “I will be catching some animals for that soon.”

We turned and walked back to the enclosure. Jeff was standing by the enclosure grinning at us. He was holding one of the turtles. This wasn’t a large turtle by any means, but it required two hands to hold it. Jeff started to tell us something when the turtle answered a nature call. I don’t think there was a single molecule that missed Jeff’s pants! Jeff tried to be cool about it all, but he kept looking down at his pants as we walked back to Mary ‘s house.

This man didn’t ask for a penny, but David gave him 5,000 shillings anyway. I can’t ever remember seeing a cobra and I know I’ve never seen one in a back yard!

We walked across the street to Mary’s house once again. Jeff seemed to be trying to figure out a way to clean his pants. He finally gave up and wore them the rest of the day with their turtle decoration. We said goodbye to Mary and her family and climbed back into the van.

We called on two more children at two more schools, then decided to eat lunch (it was approaching 3:00 once again). Vincent said he knew just the place and it was close by. We had eaten at this place last summer. It is a converted garage selling ice cream and Italian food. Last year, they had nothing from their Italian menu. This year, there were a few items. I placed our order with the woman working at the ice cream stand. She was the only one with a cash register, so I assumed she was the right person. She rang up my order, collected my money, and gave me a receipt. She told me to take it to one of the workers at the food line. I had ordered mine and Lisa’s order separate from everyone else. I handed the woman the larger ticket. Grace and Vincent ordered traditional Ugandan dishes. The rest of us ordered a calzone and a softball sized fried dough thing. The waitress studied the bill for a minute. “You want sausages?” she asked.

Since this was the closest she had come to mentioning food, I said that we had. She looked some more and asked what kind of drinks. She got them, then turned around and started filling another order. I stepped up close to the counter and asked where our food was. She turned back to the trays of food and walked past them. She stayed in the back a few minutes, then came out and took another order. Lisa, in the meantime, walked up to another of the waitresses and handed her our ticket. The woman looked at it carefully as Lisa explained our order. The woman studied the order for a long time, then went to the food and took out two calzones and one dough ball. “There should be two of those,” Lisa said.

The waitress looked around for a minute, then went and got another dough gob and two Cokes. Lisa carried the orders to the counter beside the food preparation area. When the woman came back, she said, “You see? We need four orders just like this one. Can you do that?”

The woman came over and looked at the food, then at her receipt. She walked to the food counter and selected two calzones and two dough balls. She brought them back and looked at the bill. “You are short one calzone,” she said as she pointed to the receipt. I hurried back to the other counter and ordered a calzone. The woman took my money and gave me a receipt. I carried it back to the food counter lady. She studied it very carefully. “It’s a receipt for a calzone,“ I said. She didn’t look up at all, she just kept staring at the receipt. Finally, she walked to the food counter and brought us the final calzone. I thanked her profusely and we hurried outside with our food.

Even though the service in this place is terrible (the problem is the receipt doesn’t identify the food ordered. There is only a price and a category, like snack), the dining area outside is almost worth the hassle. There are 8 tables surrounded by trees and undergrowth. There is a green canopy overhead and the undergrowth hardly allows air in. It is cool and breezy at the picnic tables. When I got out, Joseph had selected a table in the center of the picnic area.

As hard as it was to get the food, it was even harder to eat it. At least that’s true for the calzone. The fried dough balls were exactly like gigantic hush puppies without any onion. The calzone, however, had meat inside and no cheese at all. And the meat was a sickly pinkish red color. “It’s corned beef,” said David.

After tasting it I was less sure. “Maybe the meat has gone bad.”

We discussed it for a while and everyone decided not to eat any more of their calzone. But we finished all the giant hushpuppies!

When we were finished, Lisa, Joseph, and Jeff went back inside and ordered Italian ice cream for everyone. I ordered coconut, and it was delicious. Lisa’s coffee flavored was equally good.

Time to get back on the road! We visited six more schools ranging from an “infant school” to one high school. We tried to find Mutebi Dennis (Deborah’s child) at Crane High School, but he had left. He had terrible health problems earlier in the year, but everyone thought he was well. It wasn’t clear that he was sick, but he certainly wasn’t there. We will look for him later.

It was time to take David to church. He was scheduled to teach a group of ministers from Kiwatule and surrounding areas at 5:00. We dropped him off and hit two more high schools. At Rise and Shine Secondary School, there was a group of children in the corner of the lawn. One was on the ground and a small, round woman had a thin cane in her hands. She swung it terribly at the backside of a young woman, who burst into tears. The caner hit her again, and a third time. We never found out what these kids had done wrong, but a number of them paid dearly for it while their classmates stood around supervising the event.

We dropped the team at the Guesthouse and I rode with Vincent back to the church. We were about 20 minutes, so we were able to hear most of David’s message. He spoke about servanthood and about the purpose of being a leader is to serve those you lead. It was an excellent lesson and resulted in several questions.

We rode back to the Guesthouse where we found the team sitting under the stars waiting for their meals. We both ordered spaghetti bolognaise. It took it nearly an hour to arrive, but it was actually good. The beef scare from the day before was apparently over. We sat at our table and talked until 9:15, then everyone went in.

Tuesday, July 8 – Kampala I

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 06:25:00 +0000

We slept late. Really late! Quick shower, dash down to breakfast, wolf it down, and off! And wouldn't you know this is the morning Vincent would be late? He called around 8:15 to say he was having trouble getting to us. He arrived around 8:30.

This was our first full day in Kampala. The program called for visit after visit to school after school from early morning until late afternoon. Our first stop was Kitto Nursery School where we saw one girl. The teacher of the preschool class brought her whole class out to see us. Jeff and Angie kept the kids entertained while we photographed our sponsored child.

We visited three more schools and saw a total of 4 more children. We ran out of blankets and basins after the first school, so we went to Vincent's house to reload. We drove across town to St. Marin Day/Boarding School where we saw Nantongo Phiona. She asked us to tell Steve and Donna that she promises to do better next term.

We drove up a steep hill, along the top for a bit. Our destination was New Way Hill Primary School. Although there was only one girl there, much happened during our stop. As I started out to the van after talking with Bukirwa Priscilla ( ) a young man called out to me from the road. He was sitting on a bicycle and he was out of breath. He told me that he had been forced to leave school three years earlier while in S3. This is the worst time to leave school. Staying to S4 gives a diploma from Form 4, which means the student completed Ordinary Level, roughly equivalent to our high school. By leaving at S3, the man had no educational credentials at all, yet he was very near completing his requirements. He said he had seen our van when we were leaving St. Martin. He had followed us over this hill because he knew we sponsored people to go to school and he wanted to ask if it would be possible to sponsor him. Vincent took down a bit of his information and the man promised to come to the church on Saturday to fill out an application. He was so relieved that we said we would search for a sponsor for him, even though I explained that it could take a long time to find someone ready to sponsor him. He thanked us profusely, turned his bike around, and started peddling up the very steep, badly rutted road.

It was late morning, but there was still time to see a few more kids before lunch. We were in the Ntinda area where the largest concentration of our students lives. We have many students in these neighborhood schools. Our first stop was Kiwatule Preparatory School where we saw 20 children ranging in age from 8 to 12 years old. Lisa split up the children into groups so that the rest of our team could interview the kids for their sponsors. As Lisa, Grace, and I organized the photography sessions, the others sat with the kids and talked with them. Angie worked very hard to get interviews with all her kids, then moved on to interview the other kids, too. We will use this information in our letters next term, so every sponsor owes Angie a big "thank you!"

After Kiwatule, we moved to Kalinabari Primary School, our largest concentration of students with 22. While we have historically had children in almost every grade here, we were limited to Primary 3 to Primary 7 this year. The majority of our kids were in P6 or P7. This is an interesting school! It is a UPE government backed school. In theory, kids don't have to pay to go to this school, but in fact, the government pays far too little to keep the school afloat. Mary, the head mistress, is then forced to collect all sorts of fees from the children in order to keep the school open. Our relationship then is that we pay based on the average fees for the area. Mary uses this to offset expenses at the school. When she greeted us, she said, "It is people like you who let me keep my school open. Without you, there would be no money at all." So our kids get a good education in a caring, if crowded, environment. Mary keeps her doors open.

These 22 kids were so happy! They were like a huge team, working together. They laughed and talked among themselves and they gladly answered our many, many questions. When we were finished with the photos and the interviews, we walked up to Mary's office. She wanted to greet each one of us and for each of us to sign her guest book. When that was finished, I asked if she would allow Lisa and the two other ladies visit a classroom. She called her assistant and told her to show them around. David and Jeff went along, too, so I stayed back and visited with Mary and her assistant. Lisa said they went to a classroom with 90 kids in it. I can confirm that every one of the screamed when they saw the Bzungu! They also sang and Lisa had a minute to talk with a teacher. Teachers in primary schools in Uganda make about $50 per month. With that, it is impossible to feed a family of 4, house them, and send two kids to school.

It was getting late, but since we were at kalinabiri, we decided to go on up the hill to the Secondary School where 16 students attend. While we were taking photos and interviewing, two young men came up and talked to Vincent. Like the group at the Primary School, these Kalinabiri students were happy and seemed to enjoy one another's company.

After we finished, Vincent brought us Mwambu Tony, a 27 year old who was trying to pay his own way through S3. He had quit school during S2, but had found it very hard to find a job. He wanted a sponsor so that he could cover his tuition and feed his wife and two kids. He said it was impossible for him to come up with enough money to do both while attending school every day all day. I explained to him about the sponsorship process and agreed to add him to our ever-growing list.

The other gentleman was even more interesting. He said he attended this school some years ago and was very proud of it. He had gone on from there to earn a degree in journalism. With the help of two friends, he had formed a weekly newspaper dedicated to telling Uganda about issues in education. He brought copies for each of us. The paper looked as professional as the Kampala dailies and, as he said, dealt exclusively with education issues. "I would like to do a story about you," he said.

We talked for a while and the man took notes. He said he wanted photos but he hadn't brought along a photographer. Vicnent and I convinced him that Saturday morning at Saturday School would be the best time to make photos. He said he was planning a full page about the project. He was impressed that we have been going on since 2001, and he wanted Uganda to know about it. Vincent and he exchanged contact information and he left on his bicycle.

As he was leaving, Vincent told me that the television station was also planning to visit us at Saturday School. He said they had contacted him and asked when we would be coming again. He said they wanted to do a story about the Project and our kids.

It was almost 3:00, well passed lunch time. I asked Vincent to take us to The Chef, a Ugandan fast food place serving the finest mystery meet around. I asked Vincent if he knew anything about the beef and goat meat ban. He said he had heard nothing other than the waitress at Jinja telling us about it. We had heard the same story, however, from our waiter at the Guesthouse.

The Chef obviously hadn't heard anything – or it could be that the mystery meat was neither beef or goat! It comes in three styles: chaps, chops, and kabobs. Chaps is a puffy fried meat patty. As the name suggests, its contents are a mystery. Chops looks a bit like chaps except that it is flatter and not as fluffy. Kabobs are sausage-like things rolled in a batter and somehow fried. In the process the long, thin meaty thing acquires a most unusual exterior. It is like a batter, but it sort of hangs in long hair-like appendages. All three taste similar, but chops had more ginger in it than chaps. The kabob tastes like an elongated chop, except for the strange consistency which occurs when the battery exterior moves when bitten.

I ordered one chaps, one chops, and one kabob for David and company. I ordered chaps for Jeff and samosas for Lisa and me. There was no mention of any concern about eating meat, so we enjoyed. Jeff like his chaps. Daniell and Angie liked chops and chaps, but we learned that Angie didn't like the consistency of kabob. David, of course, ate whatever came by.

After lunch, we found we were running out of both time and blankets. Vincent drove us to Kigoowa Infant Primary School where we once again had 22 students. He left us there while he and Jeff went for more blankets and basins. I must admit it felt a bit strange when they pulled away leaving us alone at the school. But when our children started coming out, we quickly forgot that should anything happen to Vincent and Jeff, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no way back to our Guesthouse! The kids were very excited that we were there and several even wanted to talk to us, though many were frightened.

As we were finishing up, classes began letting out. We suddenly found ourselves surrounded by kids. One of them ran into the building and returned with a chair for me, then with one for Lisa and finally one for David. They didn't seem to think our young Dallas friends needed chairs. So we sat and watched more than 100 of these kids cheer and sing and laugh at our photos. Vincent returned to break up the party and the kids went out the school gate and on home. Our kids went for their blankets and basins!

When everyone had a blanket and basin, we started through the gate to the van. Two young girls, one around 6 and the other 2, were standing at the gate peering in at us. This has been the most heart breaking thing with our project: we simply can't help everyone. These young girls watched every move we made, and they seemed ecstatic over Angie's bracelet.

Our final stop was Najeera High School. Class dismisses at 5:00 and we pulled onto campus with less than 10 minutes to spare. Although Peter is still the head master, he wasn't there today. Instead, his assistant gathered up our 15 kids. These kids were distant and not at all talkative. They didn't interact with us or with each other. Stephen Zzwia (BPC Youth's child) was there. He seemed miserable. He whispered to me that he wanted to change schools. Stephen lost his last remaining parent last year. He was really struggling at Christmas, and he wasn't much better now. I will ask Vincent if we need to intervene here.

I was completely exhausted and was sound asleep within 5 minutes of sitting down in the van. We decided to go out to eat at 7:00 which gave us almost 2 hours to rest. We went to our room, and I, again, fell asleep instantly. Lisa woke me up at 6:40. We freshened up a bit, then hurried down just as Vincent and Grace arrived.

We decided to visit the Indian Restaurant at Garden City. There was a light crowd so David decided to take a table outside where our Uganda friends proceeded to freeze. There was no mention of a meat scare here either, so we enjoyed a feast! Afterwards, we shopped in Uchumi, a very strange Wal Mart like store.

We visited 11 schools. Our total student count was 120.

July 7 Jinja

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 06:46:00 +0000

Monday July 7: Jinja
Lisa and David went to the airport to get Daniell and Angela around 9:00 p.m. on Sunday. They got back around 12:30. I was sound asleep and hardly woke up at all when Lisa came in.
The power stayed on almost all night, so we both slept very well. We went down for breakfast around 7:00. Everyone gradually joined us. Jeff was feeling much better, but stuck with his fruit only at breakfast diet. The Dallas Ladies liked their room and said they had settled in, but they had no water at all in their shower. We decided to give it the day to see if either we had been out of water after so many early morning showers or if the problem would magically cure itself.
Vincent, Joseph, and Grace arrived at 8:00. We had a bit to do before heading east to Jinja. Our first stop was the bank where the Dallas folks exchanged a little bit of money. It was then time to pick up blankets and basins. Vincent was storing them at his house, and there were three stacks of folded and bound blankets. Each stack was higher than my head. The blankets appeared to be 100% wool. They were plenty large and brightly colored. In the corner stood a tower of 300 basins. We took about 30 of each.
With these loaded in the back of the van, we started our journey. Vincent found short cuts that minimized traffic. By 10:00 we were calling on our first school, Nambula Memorial Day and Boarding School. In addition to visiting a sponsored child, we were visiting to discuss the possibility of using this school for some of our boarding students. The head master was young and very eager to work with us. He talked about his plans for the school and the good scores his students were reporting on the standardized tests. He seemed very excited to work with us. We left his office and climbed a relatively steep hill to the secondary school. The school currently housed only S1 – S4 (the ordinary levels). It would add the final two year (S5 and S6, the Advanced levels) next year. This head master was also young and eager. Both men seemed sincerely interested in helping our kids, and both said they would look at the possibility of taking a lower fee for a larger number of students. I checked the fees. They were a bit more than some places and less than others.
We left there and drove a short distance to see Agnes (Rick and Linda). Agnes has long been one of our favorites. She is short and compact on the outside, but large and in charge inside. I’ve seen her as a pre-teen keep secondary school boys in line! Instead of going into a classroom to get Agnes, the head master went outside the gate and came back a minute later with Agnes and her mother. Agnes was on her way to the doctor. She suffers from asthma and she was in the middle of a tough time. We talked with the two of them for a while, then gave them a lift to the place where they would catch a taxi bus into town.
After a very long drive, our next stop was Nanamagabi Secondary School. There were nine students at this school, so Lisa assigned children to adults. Our team would talk to the children then record what they heard in notebooks which we’d use in writing update letters to sponsors.
Last year, we heard that this school was coming under Muslim influence. Vincent had been unsuccessful in moving the students, however. This is a delightful group of kids. Victor (Sarah and Lewis) is a star student. He does great work in school, and he sings his own music. He took a minute and sang us one of his tunes. In addition to Victor, seven girls ranging from S2 to S6 attended this school. These girls were incredibly happy. They laughed and joked with us. They posed for photos. Some of them very much liked this school, but some were begging to leave. Vincent said he would try to fix this for those who wanted to leave at the start of the next school year (in January).
We visited another school, then drove to Bukeka Primary School to find Namirimu Prossy (Vicki). She had gone home for lunch, so we drove to her house. Prossy is a real success story. She became pregnant about a year ago following being raped. She asked if we would return to school once the baby was born. Vicki agreed to continue her sponsorship if Prossy went back to school. We found this very young mother at her house. She was happy and she said her grades were good. After a few minutes, her mother, who cares for this child while the other one goes to elementary school, brought out the infant for all of us to see. It was a gorgeous, fat baby and Prossy, though she seemed hesitant at first, finally showed her off a bit!
We made one other stop , then we drove to St. Paul’s School. St. Paul’s is a school of about 500 students. It is in a very remote area without running water or electricity. The children are always ecstatic when we arrive, and today was no exception. A group of young children on their way home from their beginning classes saw us coming and ran back to school screaming “Bzugunu” (white people) at the top of their lungs. By the time we stopped, we were surrounded with primary schoolers shouting at us. All were dressed in yellow tops and green pants. We could hardly get out of the van for them. The head mistress made her way to Lisa and gave her a huge hug. Lisa has sent this school a few things over the years. The head mistress was certainly appreciative. We were expecting to see three students here, but only one was actually there. The other two were sick, so we decided to try to catch them at home.
We drove to Immaculate’s (Steve and Vicky) house, a series of poorly maintained mud and brick structures down the hill from the main road. Immaculate’s brother, Michael, had been at St. Paul’s where we expected him to be. Immaculate was at home sick. She came up to the van to talk with us, but she was very shy and had almost nothing to say.
Our next stop was Christopher Mulondo’s (Amy and Benjamin) house. Everyone got out of the van while Grace went down the hill to the badly decaying main house. This is probably our worst stop. The people have absolutely nothing. There buildings are falling down. There is no electricity. Christopher stays sick. A young boy came out of the house along with his mother. The boy came up and shook our hands. He look vaguely familiar. I commented on the amount he had grown in only a year and he simply said, “Yes.” He talked a little about school, but he was much quieter than usual.
We were getting ready to get out the gifts when Grace returned. “The boy is not sick.”
“We know,” I said, “we just saw him. He said he felt much better.
“No, it is the grandfather who is sick,” Grace insisted. “Christopher was sent to get him some medicine. He isn’t here.”
“We talked to him,” I said.
“No, it was not him,” said Grace. And we knew she was right.
“We MUST get this boy out of here,” I said as we climbed in the van.
Grace pulled Lisa aside. “If we take the boy away, I do not know what the grandfather will do. Christopher is his only care giver. Without him, the man will die.”
On the way to lunch, we stopped at the home of Monique’s mother to see Joviah (Jim and Lisa). He has grown so much in a year! He was at home because kindergarten lets out at noon.
It was finally time for Ling Ling, always a highlight of our trip! Jinja is not a place one would expect a wonderful Chinese restaurant, but it has been consistently excellent every time we’ve visited it. We walked through the restaurant to a garden in the back. We took a table under a thatched roof hut which was open all around. The menu came and I ordered for everyone. One thing had changed (and not for the better). Ling Ling had always served the largest, best egg rolls anywhere. I ordered only 4 expecting that to be more than enough. But instead of the gigantic rolls we expected, they brought out very small ones. When cut, there was hardly a mouthful for each of us.
We had a feast! I ordered chicken, fish, pork, and vegetables. I also ordered Goat with Black Bean Sauce, one of Kim’s all-time favorites. But the waitress shook her head. “No,” she said. “We have no beef or goat. There is a sickness in the north and the sale of beef and goats has stopped here. “
But everyone found the meal to be superb even if we couldn’t have goat!
We climbed back into the van and drove to St. Peter’s High School. This is my favorite school. It is beautiful, sitting back from the road among trees and lawn. The buildings aren't new but they are very well kept. Wagoina Samuel (Amy) met us before the van stopped rolling. He was so very excited to see us! School is going well and he is feeling fine. He made sure he talked to each team member and he was so excited he couldn’t be still. Before we left, he also insisted on our taking his photo with each of us. Esther, Joan, Alice and Nicholas are also at this school. Nicholas appears to be a genius, but he is also very articulate. Joan is equally articulate and very pretty. Alice is Alice! She is hilarious. She laughs constantly. And she is incredibly outspoken. I could have stayed and talked with this group all night!
We tried one last school, but the boy there was sick and had returned to Kampala for treatment. So it was time to leave Jinja. We missed the source of the Nile and the waterfall, but we did see a total of 27 kids at 8 schools!
The ride back was a traffic nightmare. We crawled through each little village as night fell. At 14 kilometers from Kampala, traffic froze. We spent the entire distance in bumper-to-bumper traffic. We finally made it to Bomba Road and it was even worse! We had to stop for water, which meant we lost our place in the line, but we were only a few blocks away by then. We arrived a few minutes later. It was almost 9:00! For its first day visiting kids, our team logged a 12+ hour day! And no one complained even once!!
Since we had missed dinner at both Grace’s and Vincent’s house, I gave them 30,000 shillings to get something to eat. Then we went to our rooms. The Dallas ladies still had no shower, so David went to the desk about it. They said they would send someone right up. We sat down for dinner. No one was hungry, so we ordered everything from soup, to French fries, to French toast. David and I decided to try something that didn’t really sound too go on the menu. The only toasted cheese sandwich on the menu (in fact the only sandwich) was a toasted cheese with vegetables sandwich. I don’t think either of us was intrigued by the name or curious about the description (a sandwich of cheese toasted with vegetables), but we ordered it with fries anyway. We got sandwiches on wheat bread with a bit of toasted cheese inside and a vinegar-based cole slaw spread on it. Well, now we know!
I went back to the desk with David to see what we could find out about the shower. No one had checked on anything. David began to complain that it had been two hours already, plenty of time to get the room fixed. “Would the ladies like to evacuate?” asked the desk clerk, a different one than the one David had seen earlier. After some discussion, we realized he meant would they like a different room. We said that would be great so he walked up the hill with us. He checked the shower and saw that it still wasn’t working and he went next door. He unlocked it and the ladies moved their things over.
These are incredibly hard days, and I must admit my stamina is greatly reduced this year. After the first few stops, I had to move to the front seat because as I grew more tired, I was having steadily more trouble getting in and out from the back of the van. And I slept between schools. Still, we all made it!

July 6: Mpigi

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 06:45:00 +0000

Sunday July 6 - Mpigi

Pastor Jimmy had been after us to come to his church on Sunday for years, so we loaded the van at 8:00 and started the long drive to Mpigi. It isn’t really very far to Mpigi – only about 40 miles, but a trip there involves crossing through the heart of Kampala then a long well-paved rural road. But the what awaits at the end gives the trip character: a narrow dirt path through a wetland jungle then up a very steep, winding trail to the side of a ridge and another wider road, but this one rutted and dangerous, then Mpigi Kafuma Evangelical Presbyterian Church!
We flew across town. There was almost no one on the streets this Sunday morning. And we made excellent time on the rural road, stopping only long enough for Lisa and me to buy bread and peanut butter for lunch. But Vincent didn’t turn where he usually did. Instead, he went on to a different dirt road. This one led past small homes, some made of brick and some made of mud. None were more than three rooms. Children played in the yards and they paused to wave as we went past. The road was terribly rutted and Jeff and I bounced madly in the rear seats. It was the worst road we’ve seen for the longest time: we’ve seen worse, but they didn’t last as long! And this fun lasted more than half an hour!
Finally, we came to Pastor Jimmy’s small brick home and where our usual road came into this one. We had only a few hundred yards to go. The steel sheeted building stood on the side of a hill above the road. We pulled in and the people inside started to shout. We hurried up the steep path and into the church. The view from Mpigi is spectacular. The church is on the side of a low ridge, which is high enough to give a clear view of the much larger ridge which rises above a beautiful green valley. There is dense jungle in the valley and the ridge above has been cultivated in places.
There weren’t many people inside, but they were certainly enthusiastic! They sang and danced. Every one seemed to be either in the choir, the youth choir, or the children’s choir. Each group sang several songs, then a soloist sang two. The only accompaniment was three drummers – a woman, a teen, and a young boy. They pounded their rhythms as the various groups sang. It was loud. It was exciting. And it was truly beautiful.
After Joseph greeted us, he introduced me to speak. I spoke about money and how God expects us to use it. I couldn’t tell how much the folks were getting, but they seemed to follow in their Bibles. The kids sat on mats on the floor. They were absolutely perfectly behaved.
When I finished, Joseph did a curious thing. He stood up and addressed the congregation in Luganda. He explained to me that there would be no interpreter, so I have idea what he told them, and he wouldn’t tell me afterwards either. When he was finished, Pastor Jimmy got up and talked about his plans for the church. He wants money to replace the wooden poles holding up the church (termites are eating through the wood), he wants a brick making machine so that he can make bricks (??), and he wants money to buy the land he presently occupies. He has projects for us to fund every time we visit there. This was no worse than usual, but I was surprised that he used worship time for it!
When all was finished, we climbed into the van and road to Pastor Jimmy’s house. His wife had prepared food for us, but we didn’t eat because it was simply too risky this early in the trip. It looked great: greens, matoki, pumpkin, and cassava. We made sandwiches instead. We found that our brown butter might look like peanut butter in the jar, but it had little in common with Jiff on the bread! It was fairly runny with some finely ground up peanuts in it. It was, as promised, brown, but “Brown Melted Butter” would have been a better description of the stuff! We had some delicious chocolate cookies with hazelnut cream for dessert!
On the ride back, I asked Vincent why he had taken a new route. He said the dust on the other road was very bad so he thought this would be a better ride. I told him I voted for the dust!
The ride back took no time and David was waiting in Jeff’s room. We talked with Vincent and Joseph for a few minutes. They decided they would come back at 9:00 to go after the ladies from Dallas whose flight arrived at 11:40. Everyone went to their rooms to rest. I collapsed on the bed and slept for about 2 hours.
When I woke up, it was time for dinner. We stopped by their room and David and Jeff joined us. Jeff wouldn’t eat, but David was hungry. He ordered the Beef Ragout, Lisa ordered fish in tomato sauce, and I ordered pork chop with mustard sauce. Mine was the most unusual. I had a huge bone with a bit of meat hanging from it with a small container of brownish sauce. It wasn’t bad, but it required a bit of work. The sauce was very good and I enjoyed It with chapatti, a very flat Indian bread.
After dinner, it wasn’t long until Joseph arrived. Lisa and David went with him to get the ladies from Dallas. I stayed back to work on this.

July 5: The Zoo

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 06:44:00 +0000

July 5. The Zoo (Jeff’s First Full Day in Africa)

My body clock wasn’t too badly messed up by the trip. I slept great, and only woke up at 5:00! A full 5.5 hours!! We had planned to get up at 6:00 so I lay there for an hour waiting for the alarm. Lisa showered, but I had no towel so we went down to eat breakfast at 7:00. We had delicious scrambled eggs, pineapple, a banana, toast and orange marmalade, and terrible coffee – instant run through a coffee filter! The best coffee I’ve ever tasted grows here and we have filtered Nescafe.

There had been a tall man behind us on the flight from Chicago to Brussels. We had heard him say something about Uganda. He turned up at Kolping House this morning. His name is Dwight, and he is a dentist from Cookeville, Tennessee. He has a man with him from Franklin, near Nashville (where my brother lives). They are here doing some pastor training in the Pentecostal church. We had a great discussion about our work and his.

Jeff came down at 8:00 and Lisa got him started. He only wanted fruit and toast, so I went to the desk while he was settling in and asked for a towel. They had none.

“What about the laundry?” I asked.

“Yes, they have towels.”

“Can I have one?”

“They are not here,” said Sister Desk Clerk. “They are in the laundry.”

“Can I go get one or can you?”

“Yes.” And the woman stood there smiling at me.

“Would you please go and get me a towel.”

“What room?”

“107.”

“Okay, I will get.” And she hurried away.

Fifteen minutes later, I was still sitting with Jeff and Lisa waiting for the nun to return. I finally went back to the gate. The nun was standing there.

“So did you get my towel?”

“No,” she said.

“Are they out of towels?”

“No there are many, pause, pause, “the laundry man took it to your room.”

So I hurried up to the room to find the cleaning lady hard at work scrubbing our floor. I asked her to hurry, and I suppose she did. It must be hard to stop hand scrubbing a floor in the very middle of things!

I showered and Lisa and I walked into the waiting area as Joseph and Vincent arrived. Our first task was to exchange money. Vincent found a place exchanging at nearly 60 shillings more per dollar than the posted rate. Then it was time to buy a phone – and a battery charger for my Blackberry. The phone makes sense because it costs over $2 per minute to send or receive a call on my world phone. A local phone is free on incoming and only 67 cents per minute to call. And we need the Blackberry charger because I left mine at home (I hope). It was brand new because I lost my other one in New Orleans last week. So two chargers in one week!

We went to a Nokia store and bought a phone for about $50. “Is this phone turned on?” asked Joseph.

“No,” said the phone man.

“Can you do this thing?” asked Joseph.

“Yes,” said the phone man.

“Would you please?” Joseph asked.

The man asked another man at the back of the store and after a short discussion, he produced a small card. It cost 3,000 shillings. “And do you sell air time?” I asked.

“Yes,” said the phone man and he got a card. He even set it up. “You must charge the phone for 8 hours before using it.” So the phone road in its box all day!

But I still didn’t have a charger for the Blackberry! And this man, even though he was at the headquarters for the phone company, didn’t have one either. “We have a Business Solutions Center,” he explained. “I am sure you can get one there.”

Luckily, it was in a nearby building. There was one worker at a desk and one customer. After about 5 minutes, we sat down. After another 10, a woman came out of the back office where several people sat looking at us. She talked to the man at the desk for a minute, then he turned to us and asked if he could help. After going into the back for a while he came back and announced that he couldn’t! They didn’t stock parts, only full phones. “But I know one who keeps these things,” he said. “Cell Solutions which is next door to Nando’s. You can trust him.” Joseph seemed to know where this was, so we left.

The city was packed with cars, so it took some time to negotiate only a few blocks. Then we were on the wrong side of the road and couldn’t find a parking place, Finally, we parked right out front. Joseph and I went in.

Joseph explained to the young man behind the counter exactly what we needed. The man told us he was sorry but he didn’t have such a charger. He knew someone, however, who would have it if anyone in Uganda did. He came around the counter and led us back to the street. He pointed to a shop a few doors down. “Go there,” he said. We shook hands and Joseph and I walked on.

This was a much smaller shop with a long counter inside the door.

“I’m looking for a charger for my Blackberry,” I said to the young man sitting behind the counter.

The man looked at my phone, then bent over to look in a case. “Hello, I am somebody. I hope you are well,” he said. Then he straightened up and looked me squarely in the eyes. He was right, I had completely forgotten to greet him properly. I repeated the traditional greeting, apologizing profusely. He didn’t say anything or look at me, but he pulled out a box and removed a charger for a Blackberry. He plugged it in and plugged in my phone. It worked perfectly. He handed me the charger. The cost was about $11, much cheaper than the one Lisa bought me last week after I left mine in New Orleans. I thanked him again,

With all our purchases made, it was time to go to church. The place was packed with kids! Many we knew and some we didn’t. We took seats in the back and watched several groups sing and dance. But the big presentation would be next Saturday, so we were through in about an hour. I spoke briefly about the kids who were invited to the zoo. Grace introduced the 5 that would come with us today. I challenged all to work hard so that they could do this at Christmas.

We loaded the van with us and the five students. Grace came, too and Vincent, of course, was our driver. We hurried through traffic to Garden City, the huge shopping, hotel, and gambling complex built by South Africans. It also had a food court in the shopping area. These children all come from the lowest ghettos in Kampala. Only one of our group had ever been inside the mall. These were older children, from 16 down to about 13, but all would have been scared to go there alone. And none of them had ever heard of a food court.

We walked along the eating area in front of the food vendors. Hired hawkers came out with menus and tried to sell their products. Our kids were eating it up, but the number of choice confused them. In the end, the guys got pizzas or pork with fries. The girls got grilled chicken. I had a mixed grill from the Lebanese place (a delicious mixture of lamb and chicken kabobs). Lisa had falafel and Jeff had an Hawaiian pizza.

After lunch, we hurried to the zoo. Traffic was terrible, but we finally arrived. This was great for Jeff because it gave him a chance to see in the daylight what he had missed last night in coming from the airport. It is a beautiful drive. There are hills to the right and, for one stretch, Lake Victoria on the left.

The zoo looked completely different. Uganda had built a new entrance to the zoo when the Queen visited last October. Instead of parking next to the gate, we had to park across the street and walk across. There are now ticket booths and places for orderly lines to form. Our first “discrimination.” The cost for foreign adults was 15,000. The cost for citizens was only 3,000!

The kids had a blast. Only one had visited the zoo before and that had been more than 5 years ago. They walked from animal to animal, discussing what they saw. About half way through, I noticed that our two young ladies and one of the gentlemen were missing. “They are ahead,” said Grace. But as we went ahead, they weren’t there.

I spent about 5 minutes searching fairly frantically for the girls. We found them swinging in swings in the children’s section, and on of the guys was pushing them. When we got eback to the van, I asked Vincent about buying water. He said that would be fine, but when he checked his watch, he changed his mind. We were scheduled to be at church by 5:00 and it was already past 4:30. So we bounced and wove our way through the traffic. We dropped off a couple of children as we went, and ended up at the church by 5:15. They weren’t ready for us so we sat outside in the shade for a while. Finally, Joseph came for us.

The purpose of this tea was for the folks at Kiwatule to get to know us. Joseph explained this and we had one song and one prayer. Then we ate. There was a huge stalk of bananas, white bread, and tea. When I sat down, I found that I was really quite hungry. I ate my bread and banana and sipped my tea as one or two people came by. I tried to walk around, but no one invited me to join them. Elder Dan had Jeff cornered, and they talked throughout the time. About 6:15, Joseph said he was ready to dismiss us. Two ladies came in with a huge bouquet of flowers for Lisa. When they had given them to her, Joseph dismissed us. Then everyone wanted to talk! Lisa was covered up with ladies wanting to greet her.

Olivia came to see me. She was so excited! She had started medical school on borrowed money. At Christmas, we told her we would pay off her debts, but we couldn’t sponsor her so she would need to make other arrangements. She started the second term and about three weeks into it, I received a frantic email from Joseph. He said they were about to send Olivia home, that this would end her medical career before it began. I carefully explained that we didn’t have the money to help her and that I would only be able to help if I received money clearly marked for emergencies only.

That night at dinner, Lisa opened a letter from a lady in Texas. A check for $5,000 fell out, along with a note telling us to use the money to take care of our next emergency!

So Olivia was beside herself. That much money would cover the rest of this year and all of next!!

I finally shook Lisa free and we climbed into the van. Vincent negotiated the traffic back to the guesthouse and we took our leave. Jeff said he didn’t feel like eating, so Lisa and I went to the guesthouse restaurant without him. We were the only ones there at 8:30. I ordered Beef Ragout and Lisa ordered vegetable curry. Both were quite good!

We were exhausted when we finally reached our room. Just as the desk clerk had promised, our bed had been transformed into the big bed! It was huge, larger than a king-sized bed at home. And it wasn’t just two cots pulled together. It had a solid mattress with no break in the middle. But there were still the two cot-sized mosquito nets. It took a while, be we finally figured out a way to drape and stretch the nets so that there were no gaps except one at the top. Lisa used an office clip to hold that together. We crawled through the two holes we’d left then finished tucking in the net. I fell back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. We still had the two individual nets attached by two separate frames to the ceiling. So the nets stretched around, but the two triangular ceiling mounts remained. It was a lot like sleeping inside a very large bra!

As we were getting ready for bed, the power went off. It came on and went off several times in the next two hours, but it was never on long enough to clear out the heat in the room. Around 1:00, it went out for good. So I slept almost none all night, tossing and turning, marinating in the warm night.

July 4 We Made It!!

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 06:42:00 +0000

Friday, July 4, 2008 - We made it!

Okay. I guess it’s really the 3rd or maybe the 3rd part should be the 4th. Anyway, we flew all day from Brussels to Entebbe! I slept almost without a break. I kept waking up and there was food or a coke or something in front of me. It felt great!

We arrived at Entebbe at 7:30 p.m. It was already quiet dark. I was on the very last row in the airplane, Jeff was on the second row in tourist, and Lisa was in between. So it took us a few minutes to reconnect inside the airport. Jeff completed his Immigration card, and we went to the line with the fewest people, the line for East Africa residents. They took us though because we had our visas! So we were through in seconds while the folks needing visas stood in a very, very long line.

All 7 bags came out in a few minutes and we were off! EVERYONE was here to greet us: Joseph, Vincent, Michael, Dan, Grace, Lydia, and Baby Lisa. Vincent had asked for a lot of money to work on the van. It had brand new seat covers and plastic on top of the new covers. And he’d repaired springs and shocks, so it almost didn’t seem like Uganda. But once we got away from the airport and into the city, the smells of the markets and the grilling meat, the sounds of prayers from the Muslims and shoppers everywhere, the dark faces illuminated for only a second by the headlights on our van and the colors of the dresses the ladies wore as they ran across the street between shops or clubs let us know we were home!

We stopped for fuel (now well over $5 per gallon) and water (still about 50 cents for a liter) then on to Kolping House. The tall brick wall and the metal door, currently open, hadn’t changed at all but there was a huge addition on the front of the restaurant building, a conference center which opened last year. We started to sign in but they told us to wait until later. We walked up the gentle slope to our rooms. We unloaded, then went down to sign in. With the help of her calendar, I explained the complicated comings and goings of our team. When the clerk realized Lisa and I were planning to stay later, she said, “Oh, so you are a couple?” I agreed that we had been so for some time. “Then let me fix the big bed. Not tonight, but tomorrow night you will have the big bed.” I thanked her and we walked back up the slope to the two story brick dorm building. Our rooms were on the first floor on the back side of the window. Our windows opened into a concrete wall, which was much better than the first floor rooms on the front whose windows opened onto the walkway everyone used.

Our room was about 9x12 with a tiny closet. We had two cot-sized bed, two chairs, two night stands and a small desk. We had both a tv and a fan. Two mosquito nets hung over the beds. The screen on our window was in reasonable shape, so we decided to leave the windows cranked open. The bathroom was about 6x9 with a toilet and sink. A shower nozzle hung was mounted on the far wall. There was a drain under it, but the bathroom floor was flat and there was no shower curtain. A shower, then, soaked the lavatory and, if you weren’t careful, even the toilet. Everything was Africa clean and smelled fresh.

We were too tired to do anything. Everyone but me had eaten a sandwich on the plane. They weren’t hungry and I was too tired to think about it, so we went up to unpack.

How long does it take to get to Uganda? I’ve translated the times to EDT. We left at 8:30 on Thursday morning. Uganda is 8 hours ahead of us, so that would be 16:30 Thursday in Uganda time. We arrived here at 7:30 (or 1930 here). We were traveling 27 straight hours, including layover time!

No wonder we’re exhausted!!

July 3. We’re Off!

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 06:39:00 +0000

July 3. We’re Off!

I’m sitting in O’Hare in Chicago. With this route, we managed to visit the two busiest airports in the world. Atlanta was fine, but Chicago might be a different story. We’ve been delayed for thirty minutes, which is 25 minutes more delay than we had an hour ago!

Oh for a trip where we were able to get ready and go! This morning, I had to go in to our East Campus to conduct an interview at 7:30. Jim was coming to our house at 8:30 to take us to Atlanta.

The interview went very well, and I managed to stay for most of it. Jeff came to East Campus at 8:15 and we were at our house by 8:30. Jim was already there and he had our bags scattered all over the driveway. Lisa and I had spent most of the night on final packing and I was relieved to see that she had finished while I was at school. She had packed Uganda bags for Jeff, herself, and me and one extra. These bags were filled with crayons, pens, pencils, toys, and all manner of other gifts from our sponsors. Jeff brought a dozen baseball caps to add to the mix.

Our drive to Atlanta was uneventful. A porter met us at the curb and loaded our bags on a cart. We walked straight up to the gate agent and she had us checked in within a few minutes. We left on time, and we all slept through most of the fight. Brusseles is a huge airport and it felt as though we saw most of it walking to our gate! But in the past when we connected here, we had to go out of the secured area and take a train to the terminal. That meant another round with security! This time, we walked a long way but we didn’t have to face the train or another security check.

But we did miss Belgian Waffles for breakfast! In all the walking, we passed a place to go into the real airport mall, but we didn’t because we weren’t sure about clearing Immigration. We thought there’d be places to buy breakfast near our gate. But there were only two small coffee places with pastries only. We took seats near our gate.

I got out my Blackberry Worldphone, which we had made a trip to Circuit City to have checked out. The man at Circuit City, the same one who’d messed up a card in my phone six months ago, said he needed to take my phone in the back to work on it. That should have told me something, but it didn’t. I let him take it and go to the rear of the store. He came back all smiles. “It is ready, sir,” he said.

“You’ve checked it somehow and you’re sure it will work in Europe and Africa?”
I asked. I wasn’t sure about this guy after last time.

“Oh, sir, I am certain. It will work beautifully!”

So we’re all sitting in the Brussels airport waiting for it to work beautifully. Instead, I got an error message: “Insert SIM card,” that is put in the very card he supposedly fixed.

After several tries, I got the toll free world phone help desk. I did get help, but the toll free part wasn’t so good: the phone wouldn’t call them unless I entered my credit card. So for no telling how much per minute, I got some great advice: the card is in upside down, so take it out and put it back. Good advice except our tweezers had to go in our checked bags with all our other terrorist implements (you know, scissors, nail files, etc.)

And so we wait!! They should call us very soon.

A VERY Bad Start

noreply@blogger.com (Uganda Child) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 00:48:00 +0000

Lisa Mummert, a member of our Summer Team, was killed in a tragic accident last week.

We first met Lisa three years ago at Grace Presbyterian Church in Franklin, North Carolina where she was a member. Lisa came up to us following a presentation to say that she really wanted to go with us to Uganda. She was still a student, however, and had no money. So we agreed to talk after she had a permanent job.

We recently visited Grace again, and Lisa came up after our presentation. She said she had a job as a social worker and she couldn't wait to go to Uganda with us! She was working with displaced children in North Carolina, children whose living situations were not a lot different from the kids we assist in Uganda. She wanted to work with our Ugandan staff to help them understand issues with these children. She also wanted to meet the kids in Uganda. We were very excited. We had a real pro coming with us!

Last Wednesday evening, Lisa went to Bible study as she usually did. Afterwards, she met a friend and they went for a walk on the Franklin Greenway. They had gotten a late start, and it soon became dark. Neither had a phone, so they decided to go to a service station to call for a ride. They were walking along a dark road when they were struck by a truck. Lisa's friend suffered minor injuries, but Lisa was very critically injured. She died the following morning. Lisa was 25.

We are devastated by our loss - a vibrant young woman, a committed Christian ready to invest her time, money, and effort travelling to Uganda to help our kids. Please be in prayer for her family and everyone involved in the accident.