Pen Pals?

I have some friends here, namely the teachers at my school, who would be interested in writing to pen pals in the US. So far I've had one friend from my parents' church express interest from that side of the ocean. Anyone else interested?

If you are, send me your address by email, and I'll pass it on.

Njagala nnyo nnyo ensuwa!!

Intended to make some of you grimace and others grin, the translation reads:
"I very very much enjoy white ants [fried of course]!"

These flying ants, which I think might be related to termites, come out after the rains. The birds love to catch them as they take their first flights, but unfortunately for the birds, the children often grab them just as they emerge from their holes. Some people eat them fresh, still squirming, wings and all. I've tried them that way, but they seem to lack flavor. Personally, I prefer them fried :) Given the abundance of rain we've had the last week or so, I've gotten to enjoy this treat multiple times.

To my impending visitors from the US: don't worry (or get too excited), you won't get to enjoy this treat in the dry season.

The Beauty of Random Comments

From the Head Teacher, on Monday, as I was holding Gloria, the month old baby daughter of one of my colleagues: "Nakaweesi, when are you going to produce?" (They used to just ask when I was planning to get married!)

From an older man, after I had kneeled to greet him, to my mother, who thankfully translated from Luganda (to my amusement and embarassment): "You have a very polite mzungu daughter. Shall I bring a cow, and my son can marry her?"

From the Head Teacher, yesterday, as I was drinking water: "Nakaweesi, you're addicted to water!" I almost choked on my water, then laughed. But it's true... I drink about 3-5 litres of plain water per day, more when the sun is shining a lot, while my friends drink maybe one cup.

From Maama, Tuesday evening: "Christine, you're such a good drunkard!" Not to worry folks, this one was also in reference to how much water I drink :)

From Muta, my seven year old brother who is learning English, a few weeks ago: "Nakaweesi, is your sugar clean?" He was referring to my tea and meant to ask if I had enough sugar. This one has been the cause for much teasing and laughter ever since.

From Buyondo, my co-teacher in upper primary English, also a few weeks ago, referencing the spelling and pronunciation of terms that refer to objects brought by the colonists: "We lugandacise the spelling." And it is such a perfect term!!! For example, "shirt" is "essaati" in Luganda... and "cup" is "ekikopo".

Some Verses to Ponder...

I stumbled on a book of East African poetry a couple weeks ago while spending the night at a friend's house in Kampala. Thought I'd share this one.

"Building the Nation"

by Henry Barlow

Today I did my share

In building the nation.

I drove a Permanent Secretary

To an important urgent function

In fact to a luncheon at the Vic.

The menu reflected its importance

Cold Bell beer with small talk,

Then fried chicken with niceties

Wine to fill the hollowness of the laughs

Ice-cream to cover the stereotype jokes

Coffee to keep the PS awake on return journey.

I drove the Permanent Secretary back.

He yawned many times in back of the car

Then to keep awake, he suddenly asked,

Did you have any lunch friend?

I replied looking straight ahead

And secretly smiling at his belated concern

That I had not, but was slimming!

Upon which he said with a seriousness

That amused more than annoyed me,

Mwananchi, I too had none!

I attended to matters of state.

Highly delicate diplomatic duties you know,

And friend, it goes against my grain,

Causes me stomach ulcers and wind.

Ah, he continued, yawning again,

The pains we suffer in building the nation!

So the PS had ulcers too!

My ulcers I think are equally painful

Only they are caused by hunger,

Not sumptious lunches!

So two nation builders

Arrived home this evening

With terrible stomach pains

The result of building the nation --

-- Different ways.

A Series of Events...

Almost two weeks have passed since a rather eventful weekend. The short story: my camera was stolen, my camera was recovered, and I had malaria.

The slightly longer version...

My camera was stolen on a Friday, though I didn't realise that it was missing until Saturday morning when I wanted to bring it to Town to upload pictures. Most any other place, there would have been little hope of even figuring out what had happened, let alone finding it again. BUT... I live in a small village in rural Uganda... AND, I am the adopted daughter of the Village Chairman. For the sake of privacy, I won't explain the details of what happened or who was involved. By Sunday afternoon, however, after multiple "conferences" in our living room and announcements after mass in multiple villages, my father arrived home triumphantly carrying my camera (trust me, it's easy to distinguish, being that it's one of only a handful of cameras in the surrounding area and the only digital one at that). The batteries were dead, the hand strap was missing, and there were a couple extra (incriminating) photos, but all in all, the camera survived its adventure better than I expected.

Lessons learned: While I may not appreciate all the forms that justice and punishment takes in the village, I am in awe of how well it works. Sometimes I have to step back and silence my independent streak, as well as my "need to know what is going on" nature... for example, when my father and numerous other important villagers are arguing loudly in Luganda about the probable whereabouts of my property.

Mostly, I'm still glad I brought my camera with me. I'll be glad of the visual reminders of so many memories from this part of my life. And it's been really fun to be able to show people their snaps (and the kids love it when I indulge their desires for short videos of them yelling and playing). But I'm also fully aware that the main reason my camera was stolen was because it is such a strange and precious treasure in this place. If it was a commonplace item, it likely wouldn't have disappeared (especially not given the circumstances which surrounded this particular theft). So, in some ways, I am the one responsible for this theft - because I am the one who brought this strange toy here. This is a simple metaphor of one of the bigger questions regarding development which has been plaguing my contemplations so much lately: when we introduce new technology with all its benefits, what responsiblity do we have for the negative effects that inherently accompany it as well?


Then, to make the weekend even more exciting, shortly after getting my camera back, I finally admitted that I was sick and let my younger brother accompany me to the village hospital. I'd been feeling tired, and had a headache and stomachache for about four days, plus a fever and chills that came and went somewhat cyclically (i.e. I felt miserable every afternoon). Despite the fact that I've taken malaria prophylaxis religiously since before arriving in Uganda, the propensity with which I am bitten by mosquitoes made malaria still a possibility. I used a quick-test kit brought from Kampala to test my blood for P. falciparum, the deadliest of the local strains of malaria, but it was negative. However, when I showed it to the nurse (who diagnosed me with malaria based on my symptoms and a rapid heart beat [actually, malaria is synonymous with "fever" around here, so my elevated temperature alone would have gotten me that diagnosis]), she logically explained that I probably had one of the other strains and sold me Coartem for 3000/=. Three days of medicine that I bought for approximately $2, and I was completely better.

So there you have it, my first experience with what was most likely malaria. A few days of feeling absolutely miserable and having some ridiculous fever dreams, then a few handfuls of tablets, and I was back to normal. All in all, slightly anticlimatic. And to whom it may concern: yes, I realise that this most likely disqualifies me from any future voluntary studies on malaria, but please know, I never really desired to disqualify myself in such a manner.

And in case you're worried (Mom), know that I still sleep under my mosquito net and take my prophylaxis every day (with my vitamin). Don't be too concerned... given some of the more exotic fever-inducing diseases which exist in the world, I'm actually glad that it was malaria I seem to have had, as that is what I received quick and good treatment for.

Would you pass the PLE?

In less than a month, primary 7 students across the country will be sitting for the Primary Leaving Examinations (PLE), administed in each of the four core subjects: Mathematics, English, Social Studies and Religious Education, and Science. All tests are in English; there is no multiple choice. Marks on these exams determine whether students are eligible to continue on to secondary education.

Just for fun, here are some questions from a mock PLE English paper. A challenge for all of you native English speakers: how would you do? Spelling, grammar, and punctuation count in section A. By the way, the actual exam has 100 questions (50 grammar; 50 comprehension), and you need at least 35% to pass, though 75+% is considered the highest grade, Distinction 1. If you remind me, I'll try to post answers in a few weeks. (Oh, and this paper is fairly easy compared to some that I have seen).

Section A

Fill in the blank space with a suitable word.

1. That is the boy ____ purse got lost.
2. Julie is ____ careful that she rarely makes mistakes.

Use the correct form of the given word in brackets to complete the sentence.

3. It is important not to ___ people's lives. (danger)
4. His ____ in Makerere University surprised everybody. (admit)
5. This is the _____ mark I have ever got. (little)
6. The minister was given a warm ___ when he visited our area. (receive)
7. Oman crossed the road ____. (careful)

Use each of the given words in a sentence to show that you know the difference in their meaning.

8. dairy
9. daily

Arrange words in alphabetical order.

10. breadth, breed, bread, break
11. millet, mile, mill, mild

Write each of the abbreviations in full.
12. can't
13. Feb.
14. COD

Rewrite the sentence giving the opposite form of the underlined word.

15. James bought a shirt cheaply.
16. The arrival of the Queen surprised Ugandans.

Rewrite the sentence giving the plural form of the underlined word.

17. The head-of-state came to Uganda last year.
18. Did you see the monkey climbing up a tree?

Rewrite the sentence giving one word for the underlined group of words.

19. The desks, tables, chairs, and benches are well arranged in the main hall.
20. That boy in the blue shirt is a person who lost all his parents.

Rearrange the given words to form a correct sentence.

21. an story it educative is.
22. hard the very was exercise.

Rewrite the sentences as instructed in the brackets.

23. The song is very interesting. Everybody enjoys listening to it. [Join using "...such an... that..."]
24. I went to the market. I wanted to buy a t-shirt for myself. [Rewrite as one sentence using "...so as..."].
25. Jacob didn't come to school. Edward didn't come to school. [Join using "neither"].
26. She is the girl. I gave her my book. [Join using "whom"].
27. Peter eats an egg everyday. [Rewrite in passive voice].
28. He moved out of the house. It started raining. [Rewrite as one sentence, beginning "As soon as..."].
29. She arrived at the party five minutes late. [Rewrite using "reached"].
30. The tea is too cold for us to take. [Rewrite as two separate sentences].
31. You will not understand. You should pay attention to the teacher. [Join using "or else"].
32. Joan likes rice more than matooke. [Rewrite using "prefers"].
33. You should respect your parents. [Rewrite beginning "One..."].
34. "He went to Gulu yesterday," said his wife. [Rewrite beginning, "His wife said that..."].
35. Yes, Jesca is my elder sister. [Form a sensible question for the above response.]

Section B

36. Read the following information carefully and answer questions about it in full sentences. In Meme P.S., the P6 class teacher organised a sanitary competition during term I 2008 for his class of 40 pupils. The results were: 10 pupils washed but not ironing. 10 pupils polished shoes. All the pupils washed the latrines. None of the pupils had untrimmed hair. 26 pupils neither collected nor burnt rubbish.

a) What does the information above show?
b) How many pupils are in this class?
c) For which class are the results?
d) How many pupils ironed?
e) How many pupils polished shoes?
f) How many pupils had trimmed hair?
g) How many pupils collected and burnt rubbish?
h) Give one reason why you think maintaining sanitation at school is important.
i) Who organised the above competition?
j) Mention one good sanitary habit.

37. The sentences below are not in their correct order. Re-arrange them to form a short meaningful composition.
a) Pupils were very happy and they began to communicate to their parents immediately.
b) The day reached and we had to travel.
c) He told us that there are very many educative sites we had to see.
d) He continued talking about the amount we would pay for the whole journey.
e) It was so great because we had a lot of nice time there.
f) At the beginning of the term, our Headteacher told us that we would visit Kenya.
g) By the second week of the term, very many pupils had finished paying.
h) What a nice trip we had!
i) The second day of the journey, we visited Mt. Kenya.
j) After one week, we came back to our school and narrated what we had seen to our friends.

One last picture :)

taken just this morning by my sister Ritah, this is a picture of me heading into Masaka Town via my favourite mode of transportation: boda boda. my friend Benard (who made me promise that I will still phone sometimes once I return to America) is driving. I know you can't see it so well, but we are sitting on a motocycle in front of the Town Centre building. (And just in case you were wondering, it isn't usually necessary to hold on very tight, but I am careful to keep my skirt tucked tightly... for both modesty and safety's sake :)

Fetching Water

welcome to our bore hole, where much of the village fetches water... except when it has been raining, as is the case of the past few weeks :) this picture was taken around 7pm a few weeks ago... all of those jerry cans are waiting to be filled (some were ours). this night, Hafisah and I actually left without water around 7:45 because it got so dark.

The first week of school...

morning parade at Jude Junior School... the building in the background is the Parish Hall, still in progress. there were decidedly more students after the first week of classes.

I apparently can't upload more than one picture at a time without being kicked off the internet every minute or two, so let's try this one by one...

Maama cooking in our kitchen.

(and sorry, but I don't know how to rotate pictures in blogger...)

If I could take you on a tour...

...these are some of the faces and places I might show you.

the view of Bukoto Town from the edge of our compound... at the far end is the "Town Centre" building where two main roads connect (if you go straight, you meet Mbararra-Masaka Road; if you go backwards, I think you eventually come to a road that takes you to Tanzania, which is apparently closer than Kampala)

this is how my siblings (and neighbours) react when my camera comes out... from left to right, in back: a boy I don't know, Brender (10 year old sister-cousin), Hafisah (12 year old sister-cousin), Entisimbe (10 year old brother dressed in his uniform; he was leaving for boarding school this day); in front: Muta (7 year old brother), Susan (9 year old friend of Brender), and Pito (almost 3 year old brother).

Unannounced Public Holidays

I remember when I was little (and not so little), how exciting it was to have a day off from school for a holiday. Holidays seemed to be few and far between (unlike the snow days that came with rapid frequency during the winter months), but when they came, we looked forward to them, planned for them, and enjoyed them. For some of you still at Messiah, this week holds the promise of fall break... and haven't you been looking forward to it?

Now, I find myself in a country where I don't know all the public holidays, and even the ones I know about seem to come unexpectedly. This past week, we celebrated Idi Day, the Muslim holy day which marks the end of Ramadhan. I had heard murmurs of Idi Day before, but no one really knew when it would be. Even at the beginning of the week, there was uncertainty as to whether it would occur on Tuesday or Wednesday, and some people were already planning simply to celebrate both. By Monday evening, we still didn't know on which day Idi would fall, as it was dependent on the appearance of the new moon. At school, some of my friends suggested that it would probably appear that night because we had had very heavy rains on Monday morning (finally!). All we knew for sure was that whichever day Idi fell on, it would be a public holiday -- with schools and businesses closed across the nation, even those which aren't in any way affiliated with Islam. We heard the announcement on the radio around 9pm Monday night as we were eating our supper: the next day (Tuesday) would be Idi Day.

[For those of you in America, can you imagine how chaotic and bent out of shape businesses would be if we announced government holidays the night before they occured...... which might just say something about how caught up America is in business and consumerism...].

Tuesday morning, I thought perhaps we would go and dig in the garden, but no, for two reasons. One, a village man had died on Sunday evening and was not yet buried; Maama told me that you can't dig when there is a dead body in the village. Two, it would be disrespectful to go and dig on a holy day, even if it is not for our own religion. One of my younger cousin sisters is Muslim, so she went to the mosque for prayers and then celebrated with another family in the village. My younger (Catholic) brother also joined them for the meal and celebration. For the Muslims in the village, the Idi meal was beef. For the rest of us who could afford it, we celebrated Idi with pork. It was a pretty laid-back day... I did laundry, was glad to have matooke for two meals instead of the school lunch of posho and beans, wrote a couple letters, took a nap, and hung out with friends. There was also a football game at the village playground, but I missed it because Father Peter was telling me about the two weeks he had just spent in Israel. And then, Wednesday, back to school as normal.

This next week, there will be no school on Wednesday or Thursday, for, respectively, a district teachers' seminar and Uganda Independence Day. But really, there is something utterly refreshing about a holiday that is only announced the night before...

And, also, I love being in this place where Catholics and Muslims live as neighbours and embody the graciousness of God to one another. What would it mean for inter-religious dialogue and relationships if we all respected and, to some degree at least, celebrated one another's holy days? What if more of us were willing to recognize the presence and pursuit of God visible in religious traditions other than our own? What if we were truly committed to making God's graciousness incarnate in this world? What if?

And yet, even here, I am constantly reminded that this dream of a gracious world isn't fully realised... as the Baptists from Masaka Town try their best to convert my parents... as the villagers condemn the family who worships the traditional spirits... and as the "born again" revival broadcast through the village by loudspeaker wakes me up at 2am.

But still, here in Bukoto, among my Catholic and Muslim neighbours and friends, I find an embodied graciousness that is far more refreshing and life-giving than the philosophical tolerance so common in America.

Emirembe gya Katonda

Nkwagaliza emirembe gya Katonda. I pass you the peace of God.

This is one of the phrases Roy taught me last week when I told her that I never understand much of what is going on during mass. I also learned to say the prayer that we use when crossing ourselves (which yes, I now often do before eating or at the end of praying... which means that my prayers often include Hebrew, English, and Luganda). This evening, I hope to begin learning the "Our Father" and perhaps one of the common songs that we sing.

Since I arrived, my favourite part of mass has been the passing of the peace, if only because it was the only thing I understood the first time I attended church. But also, it is comforting because it reminds me of other places and people that I sometimes wish so much to see and talk to. Of my parents' church, where visits home always meant greetings and hugs from a long list of people who played fundamental roles in my growing up years. Of my grandparents' church, where I often introduced myself as "Kenny's daughter" and which has supported me very much with finances, prayers, and encouragement. Of the house church community which has taught me so much about peace, hospitality, and simple living these last few years, and which I still feel a part of due to the frequent emails and letters. Of the relationships with friends and professors at Messiah which encouraged me to ask questions (even, or especially, those without answers) and to accept myself graciously and humbly. And now too, the circle of family and friends has been extended, so that the dark hands I grasp with love during mass are those of my family, of my teacher friends, of my neighbours, and of my students.

And so, to all of you that I love so dearly, even as we find ourselves in different contexts and on different continents, I wish for you the peace of the God of grace, of beauty, of simplicity, of love, of peace, and of constant subtle presence that sustains the life of all that lives.

Shalom.

Emirembe.

Peace.

Looking back...

This blog has been spinning around in my head for a few days, and now that I've come to town, I'm going to try to pull it out of the thought realm and into the blog world. It is mostly written for those friends and family who are beginning, or preparing to begin, new chapters of life... be it college, traveling, marriage, jobs, or SALT assignments [it is a bit strange to realise that many of my fellow SALTers are only just now beginning to live in their long term homes and start their assignments, having completed six weeks of orientation and language training].

Every once in a while, I pull out the SALT assignment information that MCC sent me so many months ago. In three pages, it describes the assignment, qualifications, living situation, etc. that I accepted when I chose to serve at St. Jude Junior School in Bukoto Parish, Masaka District, Uganda. Some of you may recall conversations and my thoughts from that time period... I was nervous, excited, and not at all sure what I was getting myself into. Now, skimming through the pages again, it is amusing to read the description of the village I have come to call home. I realise that my teaching assignment is very similar, though not exactly identical, to what was originally intended.

A month and a half ago, this place and lifestyle felt strange and foreign. I was eating new food, waking up earlier, working harder, meeting entirely new people, learning a new language, even learning to speak my native language differently than I was accustomed to. Everyone I met was a stranger, and even if I had met them before, I could rarely remember their names. I hadn't started teaching, and my first encounter with the teachers (before I had learned to speak Ugandan English) left us all wondering if I would even be able to communicate with my students, let alone teach them.

And yet, here I find myself, having lost track of the days and weeks I have spent in Uganda, coming to the end of my third week teaching. There are still challenges and frustrations every day, but mostly, the same place that felt so strange in August has now become my home, and the same people I wondered if I could ever get to know have become my family and friends. I now feel comfortable introducing myself as a teacher and actually understand what that means in my context. I am finding my place in Bukoto village and now only hear constant cries of "bye mzungu" when I leave the few miles where I frequently walk (like today, when I have ridden on a boda the 10 or so kilometres to town and walked through Masaka Town). Instead, the children have learned my names and call "Bye Nakaweesi" or "Bye Chrishtine".

There is comfort in knowing that tomorrow I will attend mass at a church which is too small to fit everyone from my village, even though the only parts I will understand are the prayer, "In the name of the Father, of the Child, and of the Holy Spirit" and the passing of the peace, "emirembe gya Katonda". There is comfort in knowing that Monday morning I will wake up before the sun, bathe, and take tea with cassava before walking to school for 10.5 hours of lessons, not all of which I teach. There is comfort in glancing at my watch and seeing the local time displayed, in this equatorial place where 7 am marks the first hour of day, and 7 pm the first hour of night. There is comfort in knowing that this afternoon I will return to my village and spend a few hours studying Luganda and hanging out with my friends and fellow teachers. There is comfort in knowing that tonight, I will eat matooke, beans, and probably meat or cabbage, while kneeling on a mat with my mother, brothers, and sisters.

My life has established routines full of familiar faces and places (rather than foreign ones). My teaching assignment and living context doesn't look quite like what was originally described or what I originally imagined. But it has worked out, as I have lived each day for what it is.

And so, to the many of you who are facing unknowns and starting down new paths with unfamiliar sign posts, whatever part of the world you find yourselves in... Take a breath. Step back. Slow down. Let yourself imagine what it will be like. Write it down, if you like. Then let go of what you have imagined. Loose your expectations to fly on the wind, and live each day as it comes. Each day will have its troubles and frustrations, some more than others. But each will also bring its own joys and triumphs, though they may not be quite like you expected or wanted. You will form new relationships, and though they may feel strange at first, depth and comfort will come with time. The road ahead will bring unexpected twists, turns, potholes, puddles, mountains, goat herds. Don't worry if it doesn't take you quite where you thought you wanted to go - just keep walking, one step, one moment, one day at a time.

And in a few weeks or months, you will stop to rest and glance back at where you have come. You will realise that what was once foreign now feels familiar, that what once felt like insurmountable challenges, have now become moments which bring confidence as you face new hurdles. You will recall your expectations and realise that some of them have indeed been fulfilled. And others, well, maybe you had forgotten that you even wanted or expected that. There will be parts of your life that didn't even make the original list... and you will be so glad that they happened. Life will have continued, and you will discover that you are exactly where you are.

So, my friends, if you can, hold loosely to your expectations and looser still to your fears and doubts. Let life take you where it will. And know that I am standing beside you (in spirit if not in body) as you face new challenges and celebrate simple triumphs.