Sunday, November 4, 2012

Culture and Normal


It is interesting to be a teacher in the era of globalization. In many respects we do live in a global village. We all eat, sleep, love, learn, have families, listen to music, enjoy friends, work, play, and try to get through each day the best we can. In other ways, we live very different lives. This was most recently brought to my attention because my eighteen year old daughter, who is spending the year in Senegal, just came face to face with the kind of violence, that while not uncommon here- is condemned- but in Senegal is culturally accepted.  Her host mom beat her host sister so violently that the daughter lost some of her hair and had a broom broken over her head; all because she had not cooked Emma’s dinner yet.  There are many cultures that accept violence towards each other as normal. Kristine referred to some in her recent blog post about Malala, and the women around the world documented in Half the Sky. As teachers in Uganda, we had to stand by while children were caned. You might wonder why we stood by, why could we not just step in front of the teacher with the cane and stop them. As teachers in America we are federally mandated to report suspected child abuse. It is our job to help kids, not just to learn, but to show them how important each and every one of them is, what their potential is, and to believe in them - sometimes when no one else does.
            Change does not happen because we wish it, or pray for it, or donate a room full of computers to a school with no electricity. Change happens because we set an example, we educate, and we work within the cultural norms to make a personal connection with other human beings on the planet in the hope that we can learn from each other.
            Educate for Change is taking a small group of students to Uganda this summer to make that connection. Simple human to human contact is how we will truly become the change we want to see in the world. 

Friday, July 27, 2012

Life is a celebration




As I get ready to end my truly amazing adventure and leave one of the most beautiful places on earth I was once again struck by the celebration of life that takes place in what might appear to be the simplest of events. I attended the prefect ceremony in which the outgoing prefects hand over their job to the incoming prefects. What would be at home an innocuous event- election of new student council, here involves not only interviewing the candidates by a council of teachers and their peers, then the election and then a seriously formal event including the local councilman, head teacher,  many other teachers the entire student body, all the prefects from the surrounding girls schools, entertainment…

And today I attended the silver jubilee for Monsignor Matthew Okello who is the rector of Lachor Seminary School. He was ordained in 1986 and came to the school in 1987. He was there when the LRA attacked the school and took 41 boys hostage, 30 eventually returned, but the fate of the other 11 is unknown.  It was not a simple mass, with a few invited dignitaries; it was a celebration of the dedication and service of one man to the Acholi people of the diocese of Gulu.  There were 500-600 people, students, sisters, seminarians, priests, chiefs, parliamentarians, teachers, and many others. There was traditional dancing, singing, cakes, presents, formal speeches, incredible homily (by the arch bishop)- everything is a celebration- I think that with all of the trauma that the people of Africa have suffered not only at the hands of the European colonizers, but also at the hands of their own dictators, they seem to not hold it in their hearts. They are filled with genuine compassion for each other and us, as visitors, they are grateful and welcoming and generous.

Africa is a continent of third world countries, struggling to find their way in a world rich in technology and abundance, but the people of Uganda, and more specifically the Acholi people of Northern Uganda could teach the first world cultures many lessons in compassion, generosity, simplicity, and sincerity.
 
The infamous pit latrine

Layibi boys

James my boda boda driver 
Monsignor Matthew's Jubilee


Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Four Niles and a Coke




Safari weekend! Enough said…Paraa National Reserve, riding on top of a Mutatu, elephants, giraffes, warthogs, water buffalo, hippos and more- what an adventure and then we finished it off with a cruise up the Nile to Murchison Falls- where Winston Churchill called Uganda the “pearl of Africa”. Also passed the spot where Earnest Hemmingway crashed his plane. Nile Crocs and hippos en masse. Did I mention the HIPPOS? It has taken 30 years, but I have now seen hippos in their natural habitat.  I can never put into words how incredibly beautiful this country is- so lush and green, sunrises and sunsets that…well they just do.  I have posted some of my favorite moments but I can never do justice to the experience of seeing rolling hills, the Nile on the horizon and animals, animals, animals… P.S. Zebras don’t live in Uganda.





  











Friday, July 13, 2012

Fuel and funny things



Monday morning the streets were eerily quiet as I walked toward town in search of a boda. I thought maybe it was just because it was “rush hour”, but after catching a lone boda and heading out to school we passed the first of three gas stations on the way and there were over 200 motorcycles waiting in line- there was no fuel- literally no fuel- hence the lack of vehicles on the road.  The next station was the same. Apparently Uganda imports gas from Mombasa (Kenya) and the trucks have not arrived. It is now Thursday and there is still no fuel- my boda ride was the most today 4,000 shillings to school.  The lines remind me of the oil embargo in the 70’s and the lines of cars waiting for the rationed gas. 

This is a problem for a landlocked country like Uganda- due to underdevelopment of its own natural resources (for lots of reasons both political and economic), they rely on imports. Products traveling into the country are subject to policies, abnormalities, violence and even seizure in the bordering countries.  You may have read about the churches in Kenya that were attacked last weekend. This was in retaliation for Kenya sending soldiers into Somalia after a terrorist group- so the borders were closed. Border skirmishes like this can disrupt travel and transport.

Someone said the other day that Africans, and Ugandans specifically, are patient- some if it comes from necessity- when you don’t have, you wait.  Some, is part of the culture- time is not as important as whatever is happening at the moment. I have basically lost all sense of time- I do have to know in order to leave for school on time- but there is just a rhythm here that you fall into and it is all ok in the end.

Funny musings:

You know you are in Africa when:
You can ride sidesaddle on the back of a motorcycle with no hands
You stop noticing that there is no electricity
Your roommate says “My night is complete, I just saw two cockroaches humping in the latrine”
The common conversation revolves around quality and usage of latrines
You can have a small wardrobe custom tailored in three days for less than $30.
You start thinking that 20,000 shillings sounds like a lot of money ($8.17)
You have the time to contemplate names for the neighborhood chickens
You can make friends with strangers on the walk home
Everywhere you go children wave and smile and shout “munu, munu” (White).
You come home from work looking like you just went tanning (red dust from riding on the back of the boda)
You begin to talk without using contractions
You wait an hour and a half for dinner only to find out they do not have the vegie burger (luckily I ordered the meat burger)
At the first annual “wine Wednesday,” after tasting the Ugandan pineapple wine, your housemate exclaims, “I think I just took the nail polish off my tongue!”
The only people smoking are the mzungus (white guys).
And finally you drink passion fruit juice everywhere you can because it is so amazing.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Babies and Beads

This week was something of a lull, but I wanted to put up some more pictures. We visited St. Jude's  Children's home last weekend. It was quite a shock after my trips to Mother Theresa's. It was eerily clean and the children were unnaturally subdued. There also seemed to be very few children compared to the number we were told live there. From the picture below you can tell that like all the children I have met, they are very comfortable with us and loved to be held.  Her name is Lamaro and interestingly enough this is the Acholi name I was given on Friday.  The students who gave me mine said it means "lovely girl who talks a lot"- ha ha- it really means loved or beloved...

We also had a woman named Molly come with some bead products that are made by a cooperative of women who are either widows or divorced due to LRA captivity. They share all the money earned equally and use it to support themselves and send their children to school. 


My new friend at St. Judes

Baby in blue


Beautiful beads

more beads

Sunday, July 1, 2012

The week in photos...



Layibi boys at the prefect cermony

The video is better but would not load

Jessica being Acholi

The kids at Mama T's






the kitchen at Mama T's

My new friend Kevin (a girl)

My other new friend Kevin (also a girl and yes they have the same name)

Hope



Saturday, June 30, 2012

Pizza and Frogs


30 June 2012


Second week of teaching did not really involve any teaching. It is midterms which means that all grades except Senior4 (sophomores) and Senior 6 (seniors) had three tests per day for the five days. I proctored the Senior 1 (7th grade) history exam- this consists of passing out the exam, going to the staff room for 1.5 hours and then going back to pick them up-I left three rooms of 75-80 boys each alone in their rooms with an exam and each time I went to check on them, it was quite as a church, pen to paper. No one talks, no one cheats, no one gets up- and they are sitting three to a desk. I really can’t do it justice here, it is one of those moments that I just went “wow”.  S 4 and 6 have mock exams starting next week- basically like the PSAT except no multiple choice!  These are the years that they take the national exam to determine if they can either continue on to S5/6 (O level exams) or go to university (A level exams). Basically their lives are determined by a single exam. A similar process happens at university- if you score well on the exams you can continue to study for law or engineering or medicine- if not…(you get to be a teacher!)

We have been getting rain pretty consistently every day- usually in the late afternoon or evening. On Wednesday we had a fabulous storm- it started with about an hour of amazing lightning and thunder- several of us just pulled chairs up on the porch and just watched the show. Then it started to rain, first just drops and then pretty consistently. Jessica and I missed dinner because we had been at Mother Theresa’s, so we ordered pizza from the little restaurant across the road from us. When we left the rain was moderate, by the time we crossed the street it was torrential. So we decided to eat there. Again hard to describe but- torrential rain, metal roof, no windows, and a frog hopping across the floor. TIA! (This is Africa). When we finally braved the gullies, puddles and downpour- we ended up being locked out of the gate, because the guards had disappeared.

We are multiplying and not John Travolta style…




Group two arrived on Tuesday- 13 more teachers. We are now 27 in the house with 19 high school students arriving Sunday (tomorrow). It should be interesting! The kids are coming as part of the Schools4Schools program- they raised the most money this year.  They will be out of the house most of the time visiting the different schools. Our cook Grace will be now cooking for all of us. Speaking of Grace, after going with her to see her village, I asked if she knew a good tailor (that is how most clothes are made –not mass produced, but by hand using a pedal sewing machine.) Anyway, her sister and sister-in-law are both tailors, so she took me to see her sister and she us currently making a dress, skirt and …(surprises for the girls). The work is amazing and she did it all in three days- picking them up tomorrow. Cost- about $10.00 per item. Her name is Florence.

We are running out of weekends…next weekend is the conference, the weekend after the Safari, and then rafting the Nile and home. Headed back to Mama T’s (Mother Theresa’s) this afternoon with Kristine- who will probably be back to stay one day, and tomorrow it’s St. Jude’s Orphanage.

Mother Theresa’s Primary School (Mama T's)


Monday 25 June




My partner teacher or religion is Sister Hellen Lamunu. A truly amazing woman who was not only inspired by Mother Theresa, but is following her path of selfless devotion to the most affected by the war, the children. There are around 250 children ages 3-17 about 50 of whom are deaf. The school just goes to Primary 7 (6th grade) and she has her first set of students taking the national test this year. Even the oldest are just reaching P7 due to missing school when they were younger. While not all the children are orphans by definition, if Sister did not  take them in, they would be on the street. You know all those fairy tales about the wicked step mother…well I am pretty sure they originated in Africa.

When a man divorces his wife, or marries another wife, he will effectively give control of his children to the new wife (step-mother)- in most of the cases at Mama T’s the step mother gave the father the ultimatum- either I go or the kids go- so the kids get kicked out. Since it is the women who rule the home front, her word is law. 

But let me back up a tell you  how she started: she began a vocational school for young (read teenage) mothers who returned from captivity with no way to take care of their children. They went to school to learn tailoring and Sister started a nursery school for their kids. As fewer women need the vocational part, the school expanded to include primary. Then one day, Sister received a call from the police that they had found an baby in a village that had just been raided by the LRA- everyone was dead or gone and an 8 month old baby boy was found in a hut. She placed him with a foster family until she could set up the accommodations to take children full-time. It took 3 years and he is now 11. So from one little boy to 250 since 2006.  Many have parents who died of HIV, some just came out of hiding to find their family gone. Many were born in displacement camps, then their parents died in the camp, so they have no idea where their ancestral land is. And then others where just abandoned either because they were deaf or due to the divorce scenario. One little girl was found in a trash can.

They are so starved for personal attention, that each time we go we have 8-10 just holding on…

The biggest concern for Sister now is that even if the 10 or so students taking the exam do well, there is no money to send them to secondary school. She hopes one day to build a secondary school on the land (she has 11 acres)…but in the meantime she does what she can.  Kristine and I are talking about setting up a foundation to provide scholarship money for the ones with no relatives. There is no future for these kids with no education.  Keep them in your prayers.

Sister Hellen and some her kids

one side of the girls dorm

She just laughed and laughed when she saw me!

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Uganda and the West-Unintended consequences…



While Uganda is a very poor country, especially by our standards, the influence of the west is everywhere.  This is both a good thing and in many ways a very bad thing. One of the questions that we were asked in our orientation is if we thought colonization (by the British) had a positive impact. This is a difficult question- some people said yes, because it brought education and advanced technology- others, myself included, believed that Africa in general, and Uganda specifically would have developed on its own- maybe not at the pace or in the same way as Europe, but they had education- again not like Europe, but appropriate to their culture. The also had technology and a religion that was appropriate to their culture. It is probable that through trade, many of the advancements that came to Europe through trade would also have come to Africa without disturbing/eliminating the existing culture. Recovering from colonization, aid in the form of money or goods paid to the government in the hope it would reach the people has proven difficult for the Africans to overcome.
Other observations: plastic is evil. Obviously introduced by western culture but without the means to recycle or dispose of it (i.e. there are not nice little trash bins on every corner with a service to come pick up weekly). It litters the streets, the fields, it is everywhere- plastic grocery bags, plastic bottles and containers, bottle tops, white plastic, black plastic, and now they use it to start their fires- because it burns so well- and then all the toxic fumes add to the vehicle exhaust and garbage burning fumes…

I also learned this week that the clothes we donate to say Goodwill, Red Cross, etc. if they are not sold in the thrift stores at home, they are packed up into huge bales and sent over here to be sold to Ugandans who then resell them in mass markets. While the idea of the people having a small business in used clothing is definitely a good thing, the down side is that now the Indian and Arabs are buying the best stuff, marking it up so the regular Ugandan can not afford it and leaving the lower quality clothes for the small merchants.  Another negative is that this has increased the demand for western clothes, thus taking business away from the local tailors- who rely on making all kinds of clothes for adults and children. It is really important to keep in mind the unintended consequences of everything we do.

Coffee- so with the demand for coffee worldwide- and especially in the US, more Ugandan farmers are growing and selling coffee- another plus for their economy- and yes there is a downside…they have cleared fields that had been used to grow food crops and planted coffee plants… result will mean that they will be dependent on food imports because they do not have enough land available to grow the food to supply their needs.
Even for us spending money here- we were told to always bargain the price- because they will try to sell things for the munu (white) price. Of course it seems ridiculous to bargain a ride home from .50 to .35 when I would happily pay more...the result is that it raises the price across the board for everyone, causing inflation and basically messing up their economy. Unintended consequences... just something to think about.   Apwoyo! (means hello and thank you pronounced afoyo)


I guess it rains down in Africa…

Today we went to the Recreation Project. It was started by an American as a way to bring Ugandan youth affected by the war to come together and learn teamwork, communication, overcoming obstacles. The staff is Ugandan and they do teambuilding games and trust games, similar to what we do at Hancock with the 7th graders, or Katie organizes. Then we zip lined- whoo hooo- see the video- and then climbed the rock wall. We were joined by some of the partner teachers and they are so open and welcoming, sometimes the people here just amaze me with their perspective and how they do not wallow in the incredible hardship they have lived through. 

As we were sitting eating banana’s and resting in between events, I started talking to a one of the partner teachers from Gulu Secondary School- first you must understand that Gulu SS is basically the school for all the kids who could not get accepted at all the other schools- the school for problem students. We had already learned that Alex’s baby had been in the hospital for three days for treatment, and then his son, who has sickle cell, had to go for a blood transfusion the same week- so here we are talking and I ask him how many children he has, he tells me four. I tell him I have four as well.  Then he says, “but I am responsible for 24 people” and he then tells his story: he was taken by the LRA when he was 29, in 1996. He was forced to stay with them for 10 years before he escaped in 2006. After he was taken, the people in his village retaliated against his family- because he was in the LRA- it did not matter that it was not by choice.  They took his sister and her family and put them in their hut and burned them alive. Then they killed his brother.  He talked of the many horrible things he was forced to do, so bad that it makes him sick to even think about them. When he escaped he came home and now takes care of his grandmother who is 101, his mother, who is 80, his four children, wife, and 17 children who were orphaned because of the war.  He works and lives in town during the week and on the weekend, goes back to his village which is about 15 miles away to cultivate the land and do other work to help with the upkeep of all his dependents.  He feels this is how he can atone for some of what he did- and given all that, he took the day to spend with us basically playing- all with a smile on his face and eagerness to participate.  A truly humbling conversation.

Here we all are!

Yes-me falling backwards into the hands of new friends

the rock wall- I look like a dork

awesome climb

waiting for the rain to stop with chickens

So about the rain… see the pics and video- it started right after we got to the road to go home- ran for shelter under the roof of a random building across the street. Waited it out- about 20-30 min. and then started walking for home- with virtually rivers running down both sides of the street. It was awesome!  And the chickens where pretty cool too. 

The First Week of School…

I just completed the first week of school. Here is a typical day…meet my partner teacher in the staff room (a room about 20x30 with school desks around the perimeter for each teacher, a large table in the center of the room and a TV- yes- and it is on all the time)- I sit and watch him copy notes from the text he is using for East African History- literally word for word with possible some additions of his own.  We then walk across the courtyard (the big grassy/dirt area) to the classroom where the 76 Senior 1 boys are waiting for us. You see in Uganda, the teachers do not have a classroom that the students come to, the student stay in the classroom and wait for a teacher to come- sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t- but the boys stay just the same. I included some pictures because it is hard to describe- one big room, rows of benches with maybe 8 in. writing surface attached and they sit three to a desk. All have notebooks of varying sizes and styles, and blue pens. My teacher brings a chair for me to sit in and then proceeds to dictate the lesson to the boys, occasionally writing whole paragraphs on the blackboard (and by that I mean the concrete which extends out from the wall by about a ¼ inch and is painted black) with chalk- yes chalk.  When I say dictate- I mean saying each sentence or part sentence over and over 4 or 5 times while the boys write furiously in their notebooks. This goes on for either 40 or 80 mins. Then another teacher arrives (or not) and we head back to the staff room to wait for the next class he teaches. My teacher has three sections of Senior 1 (basically 7th grade, but the boys can be anywhere from 11-16ish) and three sections of Senior 4 (that would be 10th grade or age 15ish to 18ish). He meets each sections three times during the week for 40 min- sometimes the blocks are back to back, making an 80 min. class.

The reason for the age range is that some boys either missed some years of school because they were abducted, or in some other way affected by the war, or they could not pay the fees to attend, so missed school until they could pay again. There is no free school in Uganda- all the government schools cost, the boarding ones, like St. Joseph College Layibi ( or Layibi College as it is commonly known here) cost more-as the parents have to supplement the food. The government pays about 15cents per student per day for food.

As one of the schools connected to Invisible Children, Layibi has received new roofs on many of the buildings, new labs for science, some books and other refurbishments.  There are up to 30 or so boys in each class who are also part of the legacy scholarship program which helps to pay some of their fees- it is available to students who were directly affected by the war- usually those who were either abducted by the LRA or who lost parents etc. 

The boys have morning parade at 7:30 every morning (pretty much like a parade- raise the flag, sing the national anthem etc). Then classes start at 8. They sit for four classes and then have break around 10:40- when they are given porridge (picture cream of wheat the consistency of water). Classes resume at 11:05 and they have four more- till 2:00 when they go to lunch- which consists of posho (picture cream of wheat the consistency of jello) and beans. They get meat twice a week on Wed. and Sun.  At 2:30 they go back to class for four more classes until around 4-5 and then they change into T-shirts and maybe athletic pants if they have them and hit the fields for recreation time- futbol (soccer), rugby etc.  There are also some clubs that meet at that time and there is even a scout troop.
Chalkboard

Senior 1 (7th grade)

Senior 1 History

Classroom blocks


Boys in line for lunch

Where they wash up

The kitchen- I'm not kidding

One of the many signs on the school lawn


View after IC renovation

view before IC renovation


science lab

Me playing Mwasu with Moses