Today my dad is 80. He's at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Dad and my four brothers hiked to the bottom of the Canyon yesterday and today they're hiking out. At least that's how I understand the travel plans.
Hiking the Canyon is a family tradition that goes back to 1967. When Bob was 10 and I was 12, we went to the Grand Canyon. Dad constructed a backpack frame from wood, put a canvas pack on it and filled it with what he thought we needed. Mom sewed straps on Bob's and my sleeping bags, we added our lunches and a change of clothes and off we went. It was our first backpacking trip.
Mom, very pregnant with Bill, stayed at the top with Kathy, Susie and Ben while Dad, Bob and I hiked down to the bottom of the Canyon. It was the first of many trips to the bottom of the Canyon. Each time we varied the route some. In 1977 we hiked from rim-to-rim. In 1988 we hiked from rim-to-rim-to rim. In 1997 we hiked from the South Rim to part way up the North Rim. In 2007 we hiked Havasu Canyon, a side canyon to the Grand Canyon. Right now, Dad and the boys (grown men aged 51, 42, 41 and 39) are in the Canyon.
Way to celebrate your 80th Birthday, Dad!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Whimpy American
I confess, yesterday I bought a small microwave oven. I swore we were going to live without a microwave this year, but I caved and bought one. My main reasons were two. First, on Tuesday and Thursday nights when I'm not home I leave dinner for Bry'Chell to heat up. Usually it's leftovers from the night or two before.
When Bry'Chell gets home from school she's tired and hungry. She leaves home at 6:30 AM and returns about 6:15 PM. For lunch she usually has a peanut butter sandwich or a chapatti. By the time she gets home she's pretty darn hungry. Yes, she should eat more for lunch, but she gets too much attention if she brings other stuff. The other students think she's a rich American, so anything out of the ordinary just confirms that belief.
When I'm not home she often just makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for supper and ignores the lovingly prepared leftovers that need to be heated on the stove in a pan that will have to be washed.
Last night Peter, my driver, dropped off the groceries and other stuff--including the microwave--that I bought in Kampala, while I stayed behind to teach. Bry'Chell saw the microwave, unpacked it, set it up and heated the refried rice I had left for her dinner. Hurray! She had a reasonably balanced dinner.
The second reason I got the microwave is actually two-fold. The dollar is stronger against the Uganda shilling than when I arrived. Yesterday I got 1990 shillings for each dollar. That compares to the 1585 per dollar I received just two months ago. The weaker shilling combined with a sale on the microwave at Game (the local Target-type store) induced me to take the leap.
Although the improved exchange rate helps me, it's really hurting local folks. Fuel prices continue to go up, so food prices are going up. Even local food has to get to the trading center. Some farmers bring their produce by bicycle, but many use a boda-boda, the ubiquitious motorcycles that transport everything from people to food to charcoal and lumber. Boda-bodas are pretty efficient, but they still take petrol--as gas is known locally.
I know from the news I read on the internet that the economy is bad at home, but as bad as it might be, it's worse here for the local people. The average annual per capita GNP here is $267 compared to $43,743 in the US. The US is the 6th wealthiest country in the world. Uganda is 211. That's out of 224 countries.
Oh well, I'm a whimp.
When Bry'Chell gets home from school she's tired and hungry. She leaves home at 6:30 AM and returns about 6:15 PM. For lunch she usually has a peanut butter sandwich or a chapatti. By the time she gets home she's pretty darn hungry. Yes, she should eat more for lunch, but she gets too much attention if she brings other stuff. The other students think she's a rich American, so anything out of the ordinary just confirms that belief.
When I'm not home she often just makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for supper and ignores the lovingly prepared leftovers that need to be heated on the stove in a pan that will have to be washed.
Last night Peter, my driver, dropped off the groceries and other stuff--including the microwave--that I bought in Kampala, while I stayed behind to teach. Bry'Chell saw the microwave, unpacked it, set it up and heated the refried rice I had left for her dinner. Hurray! She had a reasonably balanced dinner.
The second reason I got the microwave is actually two-fold. The dollar is stronger against the Uganda shilling than when I arrived. Yesterday I got 1990 shillings for each dollar. That compares to the 1585 per dollar I received just two months ago. The weaker shilling combined with a sale on the microwave at Game (the local Target-type store) induced me to take the leap.
Although the improved exchange rate helps me, it's really hurting local folks. Fuel prices continue to go up, so food prices are going up. Even local food has to get to the trading center. Some farmers bring their produce by bicycle, but many use a boda-boda, the ubiquitious motorcycles that transport everything from people to food to charcoal and lumber. Boda-bodas are pretty efficient, but they still take petrol--as gas is known locally.
I know from the news I read on the internet that the economy is bad at home, but as bad as it might be, it's worse here for the local people. The average annual per capita GNP here is $267 compared to $43,743 in the US. The US is the 6th wealthiest country in the world. Uganda is 211. That's out of 224 countries.
Oh well, I'm a whimp.
Monday, October 27, 2008
To the Top of the Hill
Saturday Sr. Cecilia, Bry'Chell and I hiked to the top of the hill near campus. It wasn't that far, only a mile or mile and a half. It wasn't that high--it's a hill, not a mountain. But, it is the highest point around. I've been told it has a great view and my sources were right.
From the map, it's obvious that we are near Lake Victoria, and you can see little inlets from places along the road that runs past campus. However, I've never had a really good clue of how close we are until I was at the top of the hill. We could really see the lake and some of the islands. The view was beautiful all around. To the south was Lake Victoria, to the east, north and west are forests, banana plantations and patches of tilled fields, each in a different shade of green. Further to the east and west are swamps full of papyrus. The Katonga River runs to the west with a barrier of swamps along either side. Mostly we could just see the light green of the papyrus with an occasional line of blue where the river is visible.
The countryside is a vista of beautiful rolling green hills that fade into the horizon. The hills and valleys are dotted with houses and villages along a brown line of dirt roads.
On the hill were boys watching the cows. Mostly they were goofing around, wrestling as boys tend to do, ignoring the cows until one would stray too far, then a boy would whistle and the cow would meander back to the herd--if you can call eight cows a herd.
Bry'Chell took lots of pictures, but I haven't seen them yet. Of course, even if I see them, my chances of getting them uploaded to this blog are not esepcially good.
Well, I have to go. I'm sitting on a panel discussion about research methods, a topic sorely in need of discussion around here.
From the map, it's obvious that we are near Lake Victoria, and you can see little inlets from places along the road that runs past campus. However, I've never had a really good clue of how close we are until I was at the top of the hill. We could really see the lake and some of the islands. The view was beautiful all around. To the south was Lake Victoria, to the east, north and west are forests, banana plantations and patches of tilled fields, each in a different shade of green. Further to the east and west are swamps full of papyrus. The Katonga River runs to the west with a barrier of swamps along either side. Mostly we could just see the light green of the papyrus with an occasional line of blue where the river is visible.
The countryside is a vista of beautiful rolling green hills that fade into the horizon. The hills and valleys are dotted with houses and villages along a brown line of dirt roads.
On the hill were boys watching the cows. Mostly they were goofing around, wrestling as boys tend to do, ignoring the cows until one would stray too far, then a boy would whistle and the cow would meander back to the herd--if you can call eight cows a herd.
Bry'Chell took lots of pictures, but I haven't seen them yet. Of course, even if I see them, my chances of getting them uploaded to this blog are not esepcially good.
Well, I have to go. I'm sitting on a panel discussion about research methods, a topic sorely in need of discussion around here.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Bry'Chell and School
Bry'Chell is not really keeping up with her blog, which is completely understandable since she has so little free time. Since I publish fairly regularly these days it might seem like our internet connection is all good. It's not, but at least the one I have now is better than the university's wireless. Early morning and late night are the best times to publish. While it's not exactly early now, it is Saturday, so early is relative. However, I've been trying to get into my email for the past half hour and all I get is a "page load error." Knowing UMU, it may not be resolved until Monday. Since I've forwarded my CSU email to my UMU email, that really cuts into my ability to communicate. It get frustrating when I write a nice long email and then the connection dies and I can't send it. I still haven't been able to get on the CBIS website to check my accounts, but for some reason, I can usually get into my blog.
However, what I want to write about is Bry'Chell and school. She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget things that have happened here so she can tell her friends back home. I tell her to put it in her blog. When she has access to the computer she'd rather watch a movie, so there goes the blog.
She just finished mid-term exams. Her school really is on more of a high school model, which makes sense since it's a high school. Tests include more essay type questions and are much more difficult than grammar school. Since she really is only in 7th grade, it's a bit of a shock.
A few things to know, first, 50% is passing here. Second, anything 80% and over is considered very, very good. The difficulty of the tests is measured accordingly. The grammar on the tests--that's the teacher's grammar--contains enough errors that it's sometimes difficult to understand what they are asking.
While the English teacher has the best grammar, even his test contained several errors. In fact, he marked two of Bry'Chell's answers wrong that were correct and two that were correct as wrong. Since it all came out even in the end I left it alone. At 83%, she had the second highest grade in English.
She only passed two exams, English and literature--that's out of 12 classes. I'm not concerned. The school year starts in January here, so she's coming in to the third and last term of the year. She's in a class a year ahead of the class she should be in. The teaching style is way different, there are no books, only lectures with the students taking notes. By the way, Bry'Chell's note taking skills have improved considerably.
Bry'Chell does not have good essay writing skills, yet. She tends to write the bare minimum. I'm of the philosophy that you write until your hand falls off. I also believe in my brother Bill's adage, "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit." Hopefully, you'll hit on enough concepts in all the verbiage that you'll receive some points.
I mentioned that Bry'Chell has 12 classes. They are--Math (which seems to be geometry), English, Literature, French, Luganda, East African History, Computer, Agriculture (that's entertaining for a Chicago kid!), Chemistry, Biology, Physics, and Entrepreneurship. In addition, of course, I'm teaching her American History, math and literature from her books from home. We're on a bit of a break at home. She has two months off at Christmas time, so she'll be doing the basic home-school stuff then.
You may notice that she has three, really four science classes--Agriculture is science, sort of a mix of biology, chemistry and physics, or at least mechanics. These would cover all the science that most American kids have in all of high school. They're not done in the depth that American schools cover them. There's a lot more memorization and less (or no) lab. The school has some labs--fairly primitive--but they are labs. However, the classes are real science. I've had to dig back in my brain to help her out, especially with no books. Thank God for the Internet. The physics is applied algebra and considering that she's really just starting in algebra, it's a challenge, but it's also useful because of the practice it offers for algebra.
These are the facts, but they don't really give a sense of the school. Think country school, only larger. There are 50 something kids in her class, about 360 in the school. They sit two to a desk. The desks are wider than at home. There is no storage space in the desks so the kids carry around their notebooks all day. They don't have books, so that's not an issue. However, the notebooks are big and heavy. Between classes the kids compare notes so that they make sure they have everything. Of course, being teenagers, they also talk between classes.
Discipline is sure and swift. Teachers have sticks cut from the trees. They use them. A kid flunks a test, they get "caned", as the students say. The kids act up, they get caned. Kids get caught having a boyfriend or girlfriend, they get caned. Kids get caught lying, they get caned. You get the picture. We're not talking a little swat. We're talking serious licks. Bry'Chell does not get caned. That and not cutting her hair are the agreement I have with the head teacher (principal). Bry'Chell hates it when the other kids get hit. She hates it even more than the other kids laugh at the one being caned. In some classes more than half the class failed the exams. They all received a caning. Bry'Chell came home from school upset that day.
It might help to know that, technically, caning is illegal in Uganda schools. However, I was at a PTA meeting last Sunday afternoon--three and a half hours of mostly Luganda--I understood very little and was bored out of my mind. At one point Sister Sarafina Sanyu, the principal said, "Spare the rod and" all the parents answered, in unison "Spoil the child." For many of these parents English is a foreign language, but they know that line and the vigorous nodding of their heads confirmed their agreement with the concept. I couldn't help thinking of Mother Theodore's line, "Love the children first, then teach them." A bit different pedagogical concept. I'm going to give Sr. Sanyu my Mother Theodore calendar. Maybe she'll notice that quote.
Bry'Chell did not take the Luganda test. Although she has learned quite a bit of Luganda, she has not been speaking it since she could talk as have most of her classmates. Neither did she take the French test, although she really is learning quite a bit of French. She's learned as much French in six weeks as Spanish in the last three years. This is the third term and language is cumulative.
She did take the math test, but her teacher did not post the grade since it was low. However, in my conversation with him, he said she's really learning the concepts and did well in what they have covered since she's been there.
Her sciences grades are not quite up to par, but again, they're cumulative. Whatever she learns will help her when she gets to high school at home. I don't know if the high school placement test includes science, but if it does, she'll be in good shape.
I'm a bit more concerned with English and literature. These are her best subjects at home and I don't know if she's being challenged enough here. I do not want her to lose ground. However, she does a lot of reading and writing on her own, so that will help. I'm grateful to have her Literature book from home. It has some good stories and exercises. That will also help.
Knowing Bry'Chell's experience in school helps me understand my students. Many of them are not as proficient in English as they need to be to do university level work. However, they are committed and hard working. I've never had a group of students who are as dedicated as the ones I have here. They have some deficits, but they are working incredibly hard to overcome them. Of course, CSU has many students like that as well, but the pattern is universal in my classes here.
Since I'm still having trouble putting pictures on the blog I'm trying to get a Picassa album where I can post my pictures and link them to the blog. It may take a while given my Internet connection and time constraints.
I'm aware that I often have typos and grammar errors in my writing. When possible I go back later and edit, so if you read something that grates on your grammar sensibilities, check it later, I may have corrected it.
However, what I want to write about is Bry'Chell and school. She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget things that have happened here so she can tell her friends back home. I tell her to put it in her blog. When she has access to the computer she'd rather watch a movie, so there goes the blog.
She just finished mid-term exams. Her school really is on more of a high school model, which makes sense since it's a high school. Tests include more essay type questions and are much more difficult than grammar school. Since she really is only in 7th grade, it's a bit of a shock.
A few things to know, first, 50% is passing here. Second, anything 80% and over is considered very, very good. The difficulty of the tests is measured accordingly. The grammar on the tests--that's the teacher's grammar--contains enough errors that it's sometimes difficult to understand what they are asking.
While the English teacher has the best grammar, even his test contained several errors. In fact, he marked two of Bry'Chell's answers wrong that were correct and two that were correct as wrong. Since it all came out even in the end I left it alone. At 83%, she had the second highest grade in English.
She only passed two exams, English and literature--that's out of 12 classes. I'm not concerned. The school year starts in January here, so she's coming in to the third and last term of the year. She's in a class a year ahead of the class she should be in. The teaching style is way different, there are no books, only lectures with the students taking notes. By the way, Bry'Chell's note taking skills have improved considerably.
Bry'Chell does not have good essay writing skills, yet. She tends to write the bare minimum. I'm of the philosophy that you write until your hand falls off. I also believe in my brother Bill's adage, "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit." Hopefully, you'll hit on enough concepts in all the verbiage that you'll receive some points.
I mentioned that Bry'Chell has 12 classes. They are--Math (which seems to be geometry), English, Literature, French, Luganda, East African History, Computer, Agriculture (that's entertaining for a Chicago kid!), Chemistry, Biology, Physics, and Entrepreneurship. In addition, of course, I'm teaching her American History, math and literature from her books from home. We're on a bit of a break at home. She has two months off at Christmas time, so she'll be doing the basic home-school stuff then.
You may notice that she has three, really four science classes--Agriculture is science, sort of a mix of biology, chemistry and physics, or at least mechanics. These would cover all the science that most American kids have in all of high school. They're not done in the depth that American schools cover them. There's a lot more memorization and less (or no) lab. The school has some labs--fairly primitive--but they are labs. However, the classes are real science. I've had to dig back in my brain to help her out, especially with no books. Thank God for the Internet. The physics is applied algebra and considering that she's really just starting in algebra, it's a challenge, but it's also useful because of the practice it offers for algebra.
These are the facts, but they don't really give a sense of the school. Think country school, only larger. There are 50 something kids in her class, about 360 in the school. They sit two to a desk. The desks are wider than at home. There is no storage space in the desks so the kids carry around their notebooks all day. They don't have books, so that's not an issue. However, the notebooks are big and heavy. Between classes the kids compare notes so that they make sure they have everything. Of course, being teenagers, they also talk between classes.
Discipline is sure and swift. Teachers have sticks cut from the trees. They use them. A kid flunks a test, they get "caned", as the students say. The kids act up, they get caned. Kids get caught having a boyfriend or girlfriend, they get caned. Kids get caught lying, they get caned. You get the picture. We're not talking a little swat. We're talking serious licks. Bry'Chell does not get caned. That and not cutting her hair are the agreement I have with the head teacher (principal). Bry'Chell hates it when the other kids get hit. She hates it even more than the other kids laugh at the one being caned. In some classes more than half the class failed the exams. They all received a caning. Bry'Chell came home from school upset that day.
It might help to know that, technically, caning is illegal in Uganda schools. However, I was at a PTA meeting last Sunday afternoon--three and a half hours of mostly Luganda--I understood very little and was bored out of my mind. At one point Sister Sarafina Sanyu, the principal said, "Spare the rod and" all the parents answered, in unison "Spoil the child." For many of these parents English is a foreign language, but they know that line and the vigorous nodding of their heads confirmed their agreement with the concept. I couldn't help thinking of Mother Theodore's line, "Love the children first, then teach them." A bit different pedagogical concept. I'm going to give Sr. Sanyu my Mother Theodore calendar. Maybe she'll notice that quote.
Bry'Chell did not take the Luganda test. Although she has learned quite a bit of Luganda, she has not been speaking it since she could talk as have most of her classmates. Neither did she take the French test, although she really is learning quite a bit of French. She's learned as much French in six weeks as Spanish in the last three years. This is the third term and language is cumulative.
She did take the math test, but her teacher did not post the grade since it was low. However, in my conversation with him, he said she's really learning the concepts and did well in what they have covered since she's been there.
Her sciences grades are not quite up to par, but again, they're cumulative. Whatever she learns will help her when she gets to high school at home. I don't know if the high school placement test includes science, but if it does, she'll be in good shape.
I'm a bit more concerned with English and literature. These are her best subjects at home and I don't know if she's being challenged enough here. I do not want her to lose ground. However, she does a lot of reading and writing on her own, so that will help. I'm grateful to have her Literature book from home. It has some good stories and exercises. That will also help.
Knowing Bry'Chell's experience in school helps me understand my students. Many of them are not as proficient in English as they need to be to do university level work. However, they are committed and hard working. I've never had a group of students who are as dedicated as the ones I have here. They have some deficits, but they are working incredibly hard to overcome them. Of course, CSU has many students like that as well, but the pattern is universal in my classes here.
Since I'm still having trouble putting pictures on the blog I'm trying to get a Picassa album where I can post my pictures and link them to the blog. It may take a while given my Internet connection and time constraints.
I'm aware that I often have typos and grammar errors in my writing. When possible I go back later and edit, so if you read something that grates on your grammar sensibilities, check it later, I may have corrected it.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Maggie and Joe Kernan
I left out one interesting detail about the UMU Day celebration. Because UMU has a relationship with Notre Dame University in South Bend, there are various folks from Indiana who pass through here fairly regularly. ND has some interesting research going on in neighboring villages and they help out in many ways. It wasn't surprising that there were some Notre Dame folks present for the celebration last Saturday.
However, one couple raised the interest of the Barkley Bank Regional Director. When the Regional Director got up to speak he noted that the former Governor of Indiana and his wife, Joe and Maggie Kernan were present. He said, "Do you know what being a governor of a state in the United States means?" He never did answer his own question, but his tone made it clear that being governor is a big deal. It is, but being a former governor is not quite as big a deal to me as this guy seemed to think. Now, this is Nkozi, Uganda, so Maggie and Joe Kernan may be the biggest thing to grace the campus as has ever happened.
I was more impressed with the interest Maggie and Joe took in the students and people of the campus. Maggie especially asked some very probing and caring questions--although I can't remember them--I was impressed with her level of knowledge and concern for the region and its people. She has been in Africa before and was quite aware of the realities here.
It was a treat to talk with someone from close to home. Once again, it's a very small world.
However, one couple raised the interest of the Barkley Bank Regional Director. When the Regional Director got up to speak he noted that the former Governor of Indiana and his wife, Joe and Maggie Kernan were present. He said, "Do you know what being a governor of a state in the United States means?" He never did answer his own question, but his tone made it clear that being governor is a big deal. It is, but being a former governor is not quite as big a deal to me as this guy seemed to think. Now, this is Nkozi, Uganda, so Maggie and Joe Kernan may be the biggest thing to grace the campus as has ever happened.
I was more impressed with the interest Maggie and Joe took in the students and people of the campus. Maggie especially asked some very probing and caring questions--although I can't remember them--I was impressed with her level of knowledge and concern for the region and its people. She has been in Africa before and was quite aware of the realities here.
It was a treat to talk with someone from close to home. Once again, it's a very small world.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Foundation Day
Foundation Day is a big deal for Sisters of Providence, at least it's always been anyplace I've lived. In all honesty, as much as I love Mother Theodore, her feast hasn't caught on with me in the same way as Foundation Day. To me Foundation Day is the celebration of Mother Theodore and all of us. Foundation Day is sort of our own private holiday. I like to share it, but most importantly, I like to celebrate it.
For those readers who have no clue what I'm talking about, on October 22, 1840, late in the afternoon, Mother Theodore and her companions arrived at St. Mary-of-the-Woods. They were soaking wet from having been dunked when the carriage turned over. They were tired (I assume) after three months of travel. Here they are. Fr. Buteux said, "Come down, Sisters, we have arrived." Only there was nothing to see but trees. No town, no village, no visible houses. At a distance, through the trees there was the Thrall's farm house the family was sharing with them until the house for the sisters was built, but it was a veritable wilderness.
Anyway, I like to celebrate Foundation Day. It's a bit tough being so far from St. Mary-of-the-Woods or even Chicago. However, yesterday morning I rode the bus back from Rubaga with a Holy Cross priest, David Burrell. Since SPs and Holy Cross are sort of distant cousins, having some shared history in France, he knows how we helped out their community when they left the Vincennes diocese after the crazy bishop expelled them. He gets that this day a big deal. He wished me Happy Foundation Day.
Later is the day my friend, Sr. Cecilia, came by to return a book. I told here it was the 168th anniversary of our foundation. She got it. She was pretty impressed. Most religious communities here in Uganda are much younger. Some still have living foundresses.
I decided to make a special dinner. I baked a chocolate cake. I had an ulterior motive. We ended up with a bunch of sour milk after Bry'Chell forget to put the milk in the refrigerator one night I was gone. I've found every recipe I could lay my hands on for sour milk. (No, Mom, unfortunately I didn't bring the cornmeal pancake recipe.) One was for a chocolate cake. I baked it last night for dessert. It was really good. It was my first cake from scratch since we've been here. We had chicken and gravy over potatoes with fresh peas. Oh yeah, we had fresh pineapple. The pineapple here is wonderful and inexpensive.
Somehow, being in a new country offers its own connection to Foundation Day and the arrival of Mother Theodore to a strange new land. I have a better sense of what it might have been like. Granted, this is no where near as rustic as Indiana in 1840. Even if the electricity goes out on a regular basis, we still have electricity. While I may not always have a hot shower, we do have running water. But I do have some sense of the frustration of making myself understood, of knowing that I'm missing cultural cues. After two months, it's much less, but it's something I will remember. It gives me a connection to Foundation Day that I haven't known in the past.
I told Bry'Chell the story of Mother Theodore's arrival at the Woods. She thought it was cool because it was a true story. I agreed.
This morning I read Denise's reflections on Foundation Day that was on the community website. Denise, I like it. It's a nice connection to the celebration with the larger community.
So, Happy Foundation Day, a day late.
For those readers who have no clue what I'm talking about, on October 22, 1840, late in the afternoon, Mother Theodore and her companions arrived at St. Mary-of-the-Woods. They were soaking wet from having been dunked when the carriage turned over. They were tired (I assume) after three months of travel. Here they are. Fr. Buteux said, "Come down, Sisters, we have arrived." Only there was nothing to see but trees. No town, no village, no visible houses. At a distance, through the trees there was the Thrall's farm house the family was sharing with them until the house for the sisters was built, but it was a veritable wilderness.
Anyway, I like to celebrate Foundation Day. It's a bit tough being so far from St. Mary-of-the-Woods or even Chicago. However, yesterday morning I rode the bus back from Rubaga with a Holy Cross priest, David Burrell. Since SPs and Holy Cross are sort of distant cousins, having some shared history in France, he knows how we helped out their community when they left the Vincennes diocese after the crazy bishop expelled them. He gets that this day a big deal. He wished me Happy Foundation Day.
Later is the day my friend, Sr. Cecilia, came by to return a book. I told here it was the 168th anniversary of our foundation. She got it. She was pretty impressed. Most religious communities here in Uganda are much younger. Some still have living foundresses.
I decided to make a special dinner. I baked a chocolate cake. I had an ulterior motive. We ended up with a bunch of sour milk after Bry'Chell forget to put the milk in the refrigerator one night I was gone. I've found every recipe I could lay my hands on for sour milk. (No, Mom, unfortunately I didn't bring the cornmeal pancake recipe.) One was for a chocolate cake. I baked it last night for dessert. It was really good. It was my first cake from scratch since we've been here. We had chicken and gravy over potatoes with fresh peas. Oh yeah, we had fresh pineapple. The pineapple here is wonderful and inexpensive.
Somehow, being in a new country offers its own connection to Foundation Day and the arrival of Mother Theodore to a strange new land. I have a better sense of what it might have been like. Granted, this is no where near as rustic as Indiana in 1840. Even if the electricity goes out on a regular basis, we still have electricity. While I may not always have a hot shower, we do have running water. But I do have some sense of the frustration of making myself understood, of knowing that I'm missing cultural cues. After two months, it's much less, but it's something I will remember. It gives me a connection to Foundation Day that I haven't known in the past.
I told Bry'Chell the story of Mother Theodore's arrival at the Woods. She thought it was cool because it was a true story. I agreed.
This morning I read Denise's reflections on Foundation Day that was on the community website. Denise, I like it. It's a nice connection to the celebration with the larger community.
So, Happy Foundation Day, a day late.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Clueless in Uganda
As of today, Bry'Chell and I have been in Uganda for two months. I feel like I know my way around and I have the basics down. I know where to get what I need to cook and prepare meals, and the house has most of the creature comforts that make a house a home. I know where to find things in the market. I know where the department office is. All in all things are pretty good.
Then of course, there are the times like last Thursday evening. I was staying with the Grail Sisters as I mentioned a few days ago. Sister Marie was going over the basics of the house. We had agreed that I wasn't eating my meals there--basically no breakfast, which works well for me. When I take my thyroid medication I can't eat right away anyhow, so I eat breakfast when I get home. She mentioned that I could have hot water. Seeing as how this followed the breakfast discussion, I figured she meant hot water for tea. It wasn't until I woke up Saturday morning (at home in my own bed) that it occurred to me that she meant hot water for the shower.
Friday morning I had a cold shower. Not my favorite, but not that big of a deal. Anji and Evelyn once laughed at me for whining about the lack of hot water at St. Felicitas one time. Neither of them considered hot water a given. My mantra this year is "be flexible" (Bry'Chell wouldn't agree, but that's another story.) I don't let little inconveniences get in the way of a generally wonderful experience.
Anyway, there was a bucket in the shower. I paid no attention to it. Not until I woke up Saturday morning did it occur to me that the bucket was for hot water. I'm amazed at just how clueless I can be. Oh well, those who know me will not be surprised. Clueless is my middle name (actually, Ann is, but Clueless would be a close second.)
Moments like this make me wonder what else I've missed. No doubt, lots.
Then of course, there are the times like last Thursday evening. I was staying with the Grail Sisters as I mentioned a few days ago. Sister Marie was going over the basics of the house. We had agreed that I wasn't eating my meals there--basically no breakfast, which works well for me. When I take my thyroid medication I can't eat right away anyhow, so I eat breakfast when I get home. She mentioned that I could have hot water. Seeing as how this followed the breakfast discussion, I figured she meant hot water for tea. It wasn't until I woke up Saturday morning (at home in my own bed) that it occurred to me that she meant hot water for the shower.
Friday morning I had a cold shower. Not my favorite, but not that big of a deal. Anji and Evelyn once laughed at me for whining about the lack of hot water at St. Felicitas one time. Neither of them considered hot water a given. My mantra this year is "be flexible" (Bry'Chell wouldn't agree, but that's another story.) I don't let little inconveniences get in the way of a generally wonderful experience.
Anyway, there was a bucket in the shower. I paid no attention to it. Not until I woke up Saturday morning did it occur to me that the bucket was for hot water. I'm amazed at just how clueless I can be. Oh well, those who know me will not be surprised. Clueless is my middle name (actually, Ann is, but Clueless would be a close second.)
Moments like this make me wonder what else I've missed. No doubt, lots.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
UMU Day
Forty-three years ago today, during the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI canonized 22 young men who were martyred for their faith. Charles Lwanga and the other Ugandan Martyrs were killed between 1885 and 1887. There were 45 who were known to be killed--22 were Catholic the rest Anglican. It is suspected there were many others, but their names are unknown. The Uganda Martyrs have been called the seeds of faith in Africa. After their deaths Christianity did grow rapidly in Uganda. Depending on your taste for blood and guts, you can click on the Uganda Martyrs link and find all the gross and gory details of their deaths.
Fifteen years ago today, Uganda Martyrs University began. It was small--two departments and 84 students.
Today we had a celebration. The retired Cardinal Archbishop of Kampala came to say mass and hang around for all the festivities. There were processions and speeches and dancing. Oh yeah, Barclay's Bank officially opened their Nkozi branch on campus. Interesting mix of events.
The dancing was cool. There were four dance groups--three traditional; one from the north, one Buganda and one Burundi. One was hip-hop and popular kinds of stuff. This included a Michael Jackson imitation of Thriller, crotch grabbing and all. The young woman who did it was quite convincing. All were well done. The students were the dancers. Some of the students I know in other settings, but I had never seen them dance. Sometimes people from the audience would join in if it was their local dance. It wasn't so much a performance as a celebration. It was fun.
No, I didn't dance. I don't have a good enough sense of rhythm to dance. Bry'Chell won't even let me clap to keep time, she says I embarrass her.
Fifteen years ago today, Uganda Martyrs University began. It was small--two departments and 84 students.
Today we had a celebration. The retired Cardinal Archbishop of Kampala came to say mass and hang around for all the festivities. There were processions and speeches and dancing. Oh yeah, Barclay's Bank officially opened their Nkozi branch on campus. Interesting mix of events.
The dancing was cool. There were four dance groups--three traditional; one from the north, one Buganda and one Burundi. One was hip-hop and popular kinds of stuff. This included a Michael Jackson imitation of Thriller, crotch grabbing and all. The young woman who did it was quite convincing. All were well done. The students were the dancers. Some of the students I know in other settings, but I had never seen them dance. Sometimes people from the audience would join in if it was their local dance. It wasn't so much a performance as a celebration. It was fun.
No, I didn't dance. I don't have a good enough sense of rhythm to dance. Bry'Chell won't even let me clap to keep time, she says I embarrass her.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Grail Sisters
When I teach evening classes in Rubaga (the Kampala neighborhood where the UMU extension site is located) I stay overnight. The classes get out at 10 PM and it's an hour and a half drive back to Nkozi on a dark hilly road so driving back is not an option.
The first two nights I stayed at the guesthouse. I'm pretty flexible, I could make due, even if the cleanliness levels were not quite what I would prefer. Hey, the sheets were clean. What more do I need? Well, actually, there are several things I would like, but need is a bit different. I was OK.
Sister Loretta, also known as Sister Warden because she's the campus warden at UMU, meaning she keeps the campus operating, suggested that I contact the Grail Sisters and see about staying with them. Their house is adjacent to the campus. After a couple of nights at the guest house, I decided that might be a good idea.
One of the students in my class is a sister who stays with the Grail Sisters. I asked her to help me make the contact. Sr. Rose suggested I walk over with her and meet Sister Marie who's in charge of such things for the house. Sure, why not. The direct approach is always best.
I chatted with Sister Marie who said she would talk it over with the house and get back to me. I was actually glad to hear she had to discuss it with the community. It's one of those community things that suggests a give and take that makes for good community living.
Wednesday I got the message that I could stay there when I am in Rubaga. I was quite grateful. I stayed there Thursday night. It was wonderful. It was clean, it was homey and the sisters were friendly. I didn't see much of the sisters because the electricity went out shortly after I arrived, and being pretty exhausted, I decided it was a sign from God that I should go to bed.
I like sisters. Even in a culture half a world away from the midwestern United States, there is a common culture of religious life. It's comfortable and easy.
The first two nights I stayed at the guesthouse. I'm pretty flexible, I could make due, even if the cleanliness levels were not quite what I would prefer. Hey, the sheets were clean. What more do I need? Well, actually, there are several things I would like, but need is a bit different. I was OK.
Sister Loretta, also known as Sister Warden because she's the campus warden at UMU, meaning she keeps the campus operating, suggested that I contact the Grail Sisters and see about staying with them. Their house is adjacent to the campus. After a couple of nights at the guest house, I decided that might be a good idea.
One of the students in my class is a sister who stays with the Grail Sisters. I asked her to help me make the contact. Sr. Rose suggested I walk over with her and meet Sister Marie who's in charge of such things for the house. Sure, why not. The direct approach is always best.
I chatted with Sister Marie who said she would talk it over with the house and get back to me. I was actually glad to hear she had to discuss it with the community. It's one of those community things that suggests a give and take that makes for good community living.
Wednesday I got the message that I could stay there when I am in Rubaga. I was quite grateful. I stayed there Thursday night. It was wonderful. It was clean, it was homey and the sisters were friendly. I didn't see much of the sisters because the electricity went out shortly after I arrived, and being pretty exhausted, I decided it was a sign from God that I should go to bed.
I like sisters. Even in a culture half a world away from the midwestern United States, there is a common culture of religious life. It's comfortable and easy.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Another try, wart hogs and buffalo this time
Hurray! Here are two more pictures. Hope they're as cool to see as they were to take.
One picture, finally
Hurray ! Here's one picture from our visit to the park. It's so good it almost looks phony.
Elephants and Warthogs Oh My
I've been trying to load pictures of the animals we saw in Queen Elizabeth National Park for days with no luck. I'm going to see if I can get them on another way.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Bye Muzungu
I hear this greeting a dozen times a day when I'm out walking. Usually it's the children who use it. "Bye Muzungu" means bye white person, but it has no derogatory meaning. Muzungu can also be translated as English or European. The children don't always put hello and good-bye in the proper context so I get bye when they mean hello.
While it's not my favorite greeting, I don't take offense to it. However, Bry'Chell gets upset when her classmates refer to her as Muzungu. Rightly so, she's not white. Her classmates don't seem to get it. There are other kids in her school the same complexion as Bry'Chell, but only she gets called Muzungu. She handles it by ignoring it. She only responds to her name.
What I'm less comfortable with than Muzungu is when people--women and girls only--greet me by genuflecting or getting on their knees and pressing their forehead against the back of my hand. While I might genuflect in church, I don't greet anyone else by genuflecting.
One girl, whose school fees I paid, thanked me by the usual genuflection stuff. I told her to stand up, look me in the eye and shake my hand. I told her that's the American way of doing things. She's a smart enough kid that she knows when to kneel and when to shake hands. She shakes hands with me.
No man or boy would ever do such a thing. That's part of why I don't like it. Of course, I wouldn't like it if a boy or man genuflected to me. It goes against my American sensibilities of equality and dignity. Obviously, that's my interpretation, but this is one of those times when I don't plan on adapting.
While it's not my favorite greeting, I don't take offense to it. However, Bry'Chell gets upset when her classmates refer to her as Muzungu. Rightly so, she's not white. Her classmates don't seem to get it. There are other kids in her school the same complexion as Bry'Chell, but only she gets called Muzungu. She handles it by ignoring it. She only responds to her name.
What I'm less comfortable with than Muzungu is when people--women and girls only--greet me by genuflecting or getting on their knees and pressing their forehead against the back of my hand. While I might genuflect in church, I don't greet anyone else by genuflecting.
One girl, whose school fees I paid, thanked me by the usual genuflection stuff. I told her to stand up, look me in the eye and shake my hand. I told her that's the American way of doing things. She's a smart enough kid that she knows when to kneel and when to shake hands. She shakes hands with me.
No man or boy would ever do such a thing. That's part of why I don't like it. Of course, I wouldn't like it if a boy or man genuflected to me. It goes against my American sensibilities of equality and dignity. Obviously, that's my interpretation, but this is one of those times when I don't plan on adapting.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Small World
It has almost become a truism that the world is growing smaller each day. For better or worse, it's way too true. My first week here Bry'Chell and I were sitting in the guest house dining room having dinner when a familiar face walked in the room. Wait, I know this guy. I know him from 91st and Stony Island--St. Ailbe's in Chicago. It was Fr. Modest Odama.
He would come and say mass at St. Ailbe from time to time. He was one of the few African priests that the school kids actually liked. He's lively and friendly and fun. He made an effort to be understood. Now, he's standing in the dining room at UMU. We were both surprised.
Turns out he's a new lecturer (professor) in the education department at UMU. I would have written about him sooner, but those were the days when I was still trying to figure out how to get on the internet and into my blog.
We've had many conversations since then. He finished his doctorate at Loyola in Chicago and is back home teaching at UMU. I find him to be creative, intelligent, funny and hard-working. It's nice to have someone who knows Chicago and the US. He doesn't have trouble understanding my accent, nor do I struggle to understand his. Hurray!
He had the mass a week ago Sunday and, at the risk of offending other celebrants, his was the best homily I've heard since I've been here, even Bry'Chell said so. Just the fact that Bry'Chell didn't totally tune him out suggests that he's a good preacher.
Well, time to put together my lecture and class materials for tonight.
He would come and say mass at St. Ailbe from time to time. He was one of the few African priests that the school kids actually liked. He's lively and friendly and fun. He made an effort to be understood. Now, he's standing in the dining room at UMU. We were both surprised.
Turns out he's a new lecturer (professor) in the education department at UMU. I would have written about him sooner, but those were the days when I was still trying to figure out how to get on the internet and into my blog.
We've had many conversations since then. He finished his doctorate at Loyola in Chicago and is back home teaching at UMU. I find him to be creative, intelligent, funny and hard-working. It's nice to have someone who knows Chicago and the US. He doesn't have trouble understanding my accent, nor do I struggle to understand his. Hurray!
He had the mass a week ago Sunday and, at the risk of offending other celebrants, his was the best homily I've heard since I've been here, even Bry'Chell said so. Just the fact that Bry'Chell didn't totally tune him out suggests that he's a good preacher.
Well, time to put together my lecture and class materials for tonight.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Kids and Animals
I'm going to try to put up some pictures. I haven't had much luck the last couple of tries. The animals are worth seeing. Of course, even the best pictures don't do them justice. Maybe they will be more likely to load if I only put up one or two at a time. Hmm...worth a try.
Lately, I've seen and heard some interesting stuff around kids. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucker for kids. Saturday on our way back from the park, we went past a mother with a little boy standing beside her. The boy had the big belly of that toddlers sometimes have, but it didn't look quite right. It had more the bloated look of malnutrition. I asked Mark if that was Kwashiorkor and he said that, yes, the further you get from Kampala, the more malnourished children there are. I've heard of it, I've read about it, but this is the first time I've seen malnutrition that severe.
Yesterday, one of Bry'Chell's classmate's, Joan, came over for the afternoon. She's been coming over fairly regularly on Sunday afternoons. I think she likes to watch movies on the computer. Unfortunately, I was working, so she wasn't able to watch a movie until I was ready to braid Bry'Chell's hair.
In the mean time, we had an interesting conversation. The question I remember best was--"Does the United States have a war in their country?" Both Bry'Chell and I were a little puzzled by the question, but for a child who has lived in northern Uganda, that a pretty important question. No, we assured her, the last time the US had a war in our country was the Civil War in the 1860s. That's not a question any American kid would think to ask, but for Joan, it's an important piece of information.
Lately, I've seen and heard some interesting stuff around kids. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucker for kids. Saturday on our way back from the park, we went past a mother with a little boy standing beside her. The boy had the big belly of that toddlers sometimes have, but it didn't look quite right. It had more the bloated look of malnutrition. I asked Mark if that was Kwashiorkor and he said that, yes, the further you get from Kampala, the more malnourished children there are. I've heard of it, I've read about it, but this is the first time I've seen malnutrition that severe.
Yesterday, one of Bry'Chell's classmate's, Joan, came over for the afternoon. She's been coming over fairly regularly on Sunday afternoons. I think she likes to watch movies on the computer. Unfortunately, I was working, so she wasn't able to watch a movie until I was ready to braid Bry'Chell's hair.
In the mean time, we had an interesting conversation. The question I remember best was--"Does the United States have a war in their country?" Both Bry'Chell and I were a little puzzled by the question, but for a child who has lived in northern Uganda, that a pretty important question. No, we assured her, the last time the US had a war in our country was the Civil War in the 1860s. That's not a question any American kid would think to ask, but for Joan, it's an important piece of information.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Queen Elizabeth National Park
Thursday morning Bry'Chell and I left for Queen Elizabeth National Park with Mark Olweny and three of his friends/former professors. It was supposed to be a five and a half hour drive but it was really more like seven hours, not counting the stops. If the roads were in better shape would have been about half the time. Fortunately, our driver was safe and careful, so we missed most of the potholes.
Bry'Chell was the only kid, but she thought the guys were funny and the animals were impressive, so she had a good time. She drank more pop in the last three days than she's had in the previous three months. When the adults are having beer and wine, it's only fair that she gets some kind of treat as well.
The park is located along the western edge of Uganda by the border of the Republic of the Congo. We stayed at Mweya Safari Lodge for the two nights we were there. Not only were the accomodations splendid, the food was phenomenal. The meals we had were by far the best I've had in Uganda, and that's saying a lot because we've had some good food.
The cool part was the animals. WOW! The elephants were beyond description. They're BIG--REALLY, REALLY BIG. When we arrived at the gate to the park, there was a small herd of elephants. We got out to take pictures. They were so cool. These were not really big elephants, but they were still plenty huge. They were juveniles and females and still they were big.
There were plenty of other cool animals. The wart hogs were funny. They look pretty fierce, but they run whenever they see anyone. Well, they run about ten feet then stop and turn around. You can't help but laugh.
The buffalo were cool with their curved antlers (or are they horns?) They just sort of hung out. Our guide referred to the small groups as the loser males--those who were kicked out of the herd because they couldn't find a female who would accept them. Oh well, poor boys. The large herds were females, calves and a few males. The sheer number and size of them was awesome.
The hippos were another sight. We went on a boat ride where we saw the hippos in the water--up close and personal. However, Friday night Bry'Chell and I were walking back to our room about 10 PM when we saw a hippo on the lawn calmly munching on grass. That's when I figured out the the staff standing around were not there just by coincidence. The young man calmly assured us that, yes, we could walk past the hippo. And no, it would not bother us. That sucker was big. In the water you can't see just how overall huge the animal is. One of her (or his--I didn't check) legs was as big around as I am. Her legs were also longer than I realized from the water view.
We were told that the hippos are actually the most dangerous animal in the park. Given that the animals in the park include lions, elephants, wart hogs, Nile crocodiles and a bunch of other large mammals and reptiles, that's saying a lot.
The birds were abundant, varied and beautiful. We saw two kinds of eagles--but I can't remember what kinds they were--sorry, bird watchers. I'll try to find out.
Bry'Chell was the only kid, but she thought the guys were funny and the animals were impressive, so she had a good time. She drank more pop in the last three days than she's had in the previous three months. When the adults are having beer and wine, it's only fair that she gets some kind of treat as well.
The park is located along the western edge of Uganda by the border of the Republic of the Congo. We stayed at Mweya Safari Lodge for the two nights we were there. Not only were the accomodations splendid, the food was phenomenal. The meals we had were by far the best I've had in Uganda, and that's saying a lot because we've had some good food.
The cool part was the animals. WOW! The elephants were beyond description. They're BIG--REALLY, REALLY BIG. When we arrived at the gate to the park, there was a small herd of elephants. We got out to take pictures. They were so cool. These were not really big elephants, but they were still plenty huge. They were juveniles and females and still they were big.
There were plenty of other cool animals. The wart hogs were funny. They look pretty fierce, but they run whenever they see anyone. Well, they run about ten feet then stop and turn around. You can't help but laugh.
The buffalo were cool with their curved antlers (or are they horns?) They just sort of hung out. Our guide referred to the small groups as the loser males--those who were kicked out of the herd because they couldn't find a female who would accept them. Oh well, poor boys. The large herds were females, calves and a few males. The sheer number and size of them was awesome.
The hippos were another sight. We went on a boat ride where we saw the hippos in the water--up close and personal. However, Friday night Bry'Chell and I were walking back to our room about 10 PM when we saw a hippo on the lawn calmly munching on grass. That's when I figured out the the staff standing around were not there just by coincidence. The young man calmly assured us that, yes, we could walk past the hippo. And no, it would not bother us. That sucker was big. In the water you can't see just how overall huge the animal is. One of her (or his--I didn't check) legs was as big around as I am. Her legs were also longer than I realized from the water view.
We were told that the hippos are actually the most dangerous animal in the park. Given that the animals in the park include lions, elephants, wart hogs, Nile crocodiles and a bunch of other large mammals and reptiles, that's saying a lot.
The birds were abundant, varied and beautiful. We saw two kinds of eagles--but I can't remember what kinds they were--sorry, bird watchers. I'll try to find out.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
My First Class at UMU
Tonight I taught my first class at Uganda Martyrs University. It's an Intro to Sociology class. Ordinarily I could teach it with my eyes closed. Tonight was different. It's fun teaching in a different cultural context. Unfortunately, my accent makes it difficult for the students to understand me. That's frustrating. I put my lecture on power point so they could at least follow along. I think it helped. One of my students is a sister from a Ugandan community. I recognized the medallion she wears from some of the sisters in Nkozi.
There are 42 students in my class. It's mix of men and women, almost half and half. CSU tends to have way more women. The class is a little bigger than what I'm used to, but not that much. Students are a bit younger than the evening students at CSU, but still a few mature students. They seem a bit older than the students at Nkozi. They work during the day and attend class in the evening. I will have them again for Introduction to Social Work on Thursdays.
I might have mentioned that I'm teaching at the Rubaga campus of UMU. It's a neighborhood on the western edge of Kampala. I take the UMU bus in from Nkozi with the folks who live in Kampala. The University provides a coach bus to take faculty and staff who live in Kampala to and from work everyday. I ride the bus to Rubaga, teach an evening class from 6 to 10 PM, stay overnight at the guesthouse and ride the bus back to Nkozi at 7:30 AM, getting back about 9 AM.
While I'm out galavanting around Bry'Chell is at home. Carol, an older student from her school, stays overnight with Bry'Chell. Bry'Chell gets home after I leave, so I left her a note with instructions for heating up the left over spaghetti. She could do it without instructions, but I did leave her about 50 million reminders--all along the line of do this, don't do that. She may ignore them all, but I doubt it. She a pretty responsible kid.
Oh yeah, last night I mentioned this cool little gizmo that allows we to use the internet wherever I am. I plugged it in and now I'm laying on my bed in the guesthouse tapping away on my blog. It's a way better connection than the wireless connection at UMU. Thank God, I couldn't take it much longer. It took almost an hour to upload the SP web page. Now it just takes a few minutes. It's not as fast as my connection at home, but it's still pretty fast. I took a picture of it. I'm going to see if I can load.
It's late and tomorrow starts early. I'm off to bed.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Haircuts and shoe shines
My hair was getting in my eyes. I hate that. It usually gets to a point where I can't stand it any more so I call Carmen and he gets me for a haircut. He's been cutting my hair for almost 30 years. I meant to get a haircut right before I left the states, but things were pretty crazy and I never got that far. When I left my hair was marginally tolerable. By the time I had been here a month, it was beyond tolerable. I was told that the barber in the trading center could cut it.
Last week I really couldn't take it any more so I walked on down to the stall where he has his shop. I didn't see him so I went over to another shop where I had met the young woman who recommended the barber. She went to the his shop and woke him up. He was taking a mid-day nap since he didn't have any customers. This made me a bit anxious, but hey, I really, really needed a haircut. Besides, hair grows, right? Even a bad haircut doesn't last forever.
I was reassured when he doused the clippers in disinfectant. At least, I assume the purple stuff he pored over the clippers was disinfectant. He started cutting and I figured this wasn't going to be too bad. Of course, I'm blind as a bat without my glasses (and without the bat's sonar) so I really couldn't see much of what he was doing. When I put my glasses back on it still didn't look so bad. I paid my 2000 Ush ($1.25) and went home.
When I looked in the bathroom mirror at home and had a chance to check it out from several angles, I had a different impression. At the crown of my head--top back--it's cut quite short. Think longish crew cut. The sides were too long. Fortunately, I've spent years watching Carmen--however blurred--cut my hair. I brought a hair scissors along, a last minute purchase, just in case--of what I didn't know. Anyway, I trimmed and shaped until it's fairly respectable, as long as you don't look at the top back.
Like I said, hair grows.
Now, about shoe shines.
Last week we had the day off for the Muslim holy day of Idi Al-Fitir, the celebration that ends the month of fasting for Ramadan. Uganda handles religious pluralism by celebrating everyone's major holidays. Cool, I'm happy for the Muslims. I was even happier to have a free day with Bry'Chell around.
Bry'Chell had told me about a store that was nice--nice by Ugandan standards is nothing major. In this case it meant she could buy a Snickers bar. Anyway, I wanted to see it, so we walked down and found it. It was nice--clean, bright and organized. However, they were out of Snickers bars.
I looked around and found a few things that we needed. Among other things I found black Kiwi shoe polish and a small shoe shine brush. As I've mentioned before, things get really dusty around here--dirt roads and all. Anyway, I asked Bry'Chell if she would be interested in the polish and brush. She was pretty excited and said that, yes, she did need them. Carol, who walks to school with her in the morning had polished her shoes a couple of times because they didn't look nice. (Why did she wait until now to tell me?) Now I'm feeling like an irresponsible parent-type person. I bought the stuff and we came home.
Bry'Chell has been polishing her shoes almost daily. Today I went to Kampala and bought (among other things) a piece of flannel so she can put a nice finish on them. She seems surprised that I know how to polish shoes. I told her that my dad taught me how to use a shoe shine brush and flannel cloth to polish shoes. She was more impressed with Dad than with me.
I'm getting flashes of approaching adolescence. When Bry'Chell was nine, I was brilliant. I knew how to do all kinds of cool stuff. She was always excited to learn something new. Now that she's almost 13, my abilities have shrunken considerably. She can just about tolerate being around me. It's seldom that I have anything interesting to bring to the table, but occasionally I might have a useful tidbit of knowledge. Oh well. She still sleeps with her American Girl doll, Jasmine, and her stuffed Snow Leopard.
Shining shoes is just one little Ugandan thing she has picked up. In the past three years her school shoes never saw polish. Now they're so shiny you can just about see yourself in them.
Because of the dust, she also carries around a handkerchief to dust off her seat before she sits down. I just sit down and take my chances. Maybe I'll pick up that habit, but I doubt it.
I have a new internet connection that I can use from home. I'll write more about that next time I sign on because it's past my bedtime and I start teaching tomorrow.
Last week I really couldn't take it any more so I walked on down to the stall where he has his shop. I didn't see him so I went over to another shop where I had met the young woman who recommended the barber. She went to the his shop and woke him up. He was taking a mid-day nap since he didn't have any customers. This made me a bit anxious, but hey, I really, really needed a haircut. Besides, hair grows, right? Even a bad haircut doesn't last forever.
I was reassured when he doused the clippers in disinfectant. At least, I assume the purple stuff he pored over the clippers was disinfectant. He started cutting and I figured this wasn't going to be too bad. Of course, I'm blind as a bat without my glasses (and without the bat's sonar) so I really couldn't see much of what he was doing. When I put my glasses back on it still didn't look so bad. I paid my 2000 Ush ($1.25) and went home.
When I looked in the bathroom mirror at home and had a chance to check it out from several angles, I had a different impression. At the crown of my head--top back--it's cut quite short. Think longish crew cut. The sides were too long. Fortunately, I've spent years watching Carmen--however blurred--cut my hair. I brought a hair scissors along, a last minute purchase, just in case--of what I didn't know. Anyway, I trimmed and shaped until it's fairly respectable, as long as you don't look at the top back.
Like I said, hair grows.
Now, about shoe shines.
Last week we had the day off for the Muslim holy day of Idi Al-Fitir, the celebration that ends the month of fasting for Ramadan. Uganda handles religious pluralism by celebrating everyone's major holidays. Cool, I'm happy for the Muslims. I was even happier to have a free day with Bry'Chell around.
Bry'Chell had told me about a store that was nice--nice by Ugandan standards is nothing major. In this case it meant she could buy a Snickers bar. Anyway, I wanted to see it, so we walked down and found it. It was nice--clean, bright and organized. However, they were out of Snickers bars.
I looked around and found a few things that we needed. Among other things I found black Kiwi shoe polish and a small shoe shine brush. As I've mentioned before, things get really dusty around here--dirt roads and all. Anyway, I asked Bry'Chell if she would be interested in the polish and brush. She was pretty excited and said that, yes, she did need them. Carol, who walks to school with her in the morning had polished her shoes a couple of times because they didn't look nice. (Why did she wait until now to tell me?) Now I'm feeling like an irresponsible parent-type person. I bought the stuff and we came home.
Bry'Chell has been polishing her shoes almost daily. Today I went to Kampala and bought (among other things) a piece of flannel so she can put a nice finish on them. She seems surprised that I know how to polish shoes. I told her that my dad taught me how to use a shoe shine brush and flannel cloth to polish shoes. She was more impressed with Dad than with me.
I'm getting flashes of approaching adolescence. When Bry'Chell was nine, I was brilliant. I knew how to do all kinds of cool stuff. She was always excited to learn something new. Now that she's almost 13, my abilities have shrunken considerably. She can just about tolerate being around me. It's seldom that I have anything interesting to bring to the table, but occasionally I might have a useful tidbit of knowledge. Oh well. She still sleeps with her American Girl doll, Jasmine, and her stuffed Snow Leopard.
Shining shoes is just one little Ugandan thing she has picked up. In the past three years her school shoes never saw polish. Now they're so shiny you can just about see yourself in them.
Because of the dust, she also carries around a handkerchief to dust off her seat before she sits down. I just sit down and take my chances. Maybe I'll pick up that habit, but I doubt it.
I have a new internet connection that I can use from home. I'll write more about that next time I sign on because it's past my bedtime and I start teaching tomorrow.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Our House
I'm putting up a second post only because I could actually get on my blog. Since I haven't posted in a while, I figured I'd get on while I could.
In the last post--earlier today--I mentioned our house. It's not fancy by American standards, but it's really very nice by Ugandan standards. The floor is a cement slab without any covering or finish. It's very bright with lots of windows. I think the windows are because the electricity goes out on a regular basis. It's not a problem on campus since we have a back-up generator and a back up for the back up. When the electricity goes out we have power from about 6 AM until 11 PM.
I'm going to try to upload a picture of our house, just to give an idea of what it looks like. I think I've mentioned before that it's half of a duplex. We have three bedrooms and one bath. It's furnished. It came with four chairs--wooden frames with cushions, a coffee table and two small end tables. The dining room has a table with six chairs. We have a small stove--it's called a cooker here--and a fairly small refrigerator. The bedrooms each have a full size bed. However, the mattresses are just foam. They look sort of like mattresses at home, but trust me, there's no inner spring bounce to them.
Since we moved in I had a local carpenter build us a large bookshelf, a stool and two small tables--one for the kitchen and one for the living room. The kitchen one we use for the toaster oven and the living room one is for the computer and printer. The bedrooms don't have any dressers, but there is a closet in each bedroom. I may have the same carpenter build a couple of shelves for the bedrooms, just to have a place to put stuff.
The cooker has two gas burners and two electric burners. I believe the gas is propane. There is a tank next to the stove. Mostly I use the gas burners when the power is off, otherwise I use the electric ones. It took me a while to figure out the oven. It's electric and the degree markings are Celsius, so I had to figure out how to change my recipes from Fahrenheit to Celsius. So far I've made biscuits, corn bread and banana bread. I want to make cookies but I don't have a flour sifter yet, and I'm afraid they'll turn out like rocks if I don't sift. The flour here is less refined, which is probably healthier, but it's heavier. I have a taste for Snickerdoodles so I'm trying to find a sifter. It took me a while to find baking powder and baking soda. I now have both. Baking soda, especially, is not easy to find.
Bry'Chell has made lots of friends at school. I think part of the reason is because she's something of a novelty. She's the only kid in the whole school with hair. Both the boys and the girls get their hair cut to the scalp at the beginning of each term. Bry'Chell is figuring out which kids like her for herself and which ones like her because they think she's a rich American. She is sort of astounded by the rich American label. From her perspective, she's a poor American. It's sort of funny to be seen as rich. In some ways we are, but in other ways we're not. For example, people are surprised that I do Bry'Chell's braids. They think I would send to to the salon to have them done, although everyone with whom I've spoken admits that it's expensive to have her hair "plaited", as they say here, at the salon.
I'm trying to post a few pictures, including our house, like I mentioned earlier, a picture of Bry'Chell with a school friend and Bry'Chell walking to school. She's wearing her "house" shirt in the pictures because these are Saturday pictures when she's going to school for school functions on Saturday, in this case the Senior Six party. They still have to wear their uniform skirts, but they can wear their house t-shirts. How liberal can you get.
Geckos or Why my Mom wouldn't like Uganda
The houses here are not built very "tight." When there's a breeze it ruffles curtains--and that's with the windows closed. There are additional screens above the windows. These screens do not have any glass behind them. While it's not that hot here--despite being on the Equator--neither does it get very cold. It never gets below sweatshirt weather.
Not only is the weather pleasant for humans, it's also pleasant for insects and animals.The great variety of birds in the area is amazing and several other critters make their homes here as well. One reptile that makes its way into the house at night is the gecko. My theory of insects and animals is that if it's not poisonous and it eats mosquitoes, it's my friend. I hate mosquitoes and they like me, not a good combination. The geckos are harmless. They hang out up near the ceiling and don't bother us in the least.
My Mom does not like reptiles in any form, so she would not like it here. In our family lizards and snakes and such are usually associated with my brother, Bob. Bob would catch salamanders and name them Ralph. Inevitably they would escape and find their way to the bathroom where Mom would find them. I don't know why it was always Mom who found them, but it sure seemed that way. The result was not pretty. Mom would not like the gecko factor about Uganda.
I had seen geckos on a couple of occasions in the hallway, but kept my mouth shut, hoping Bry'Chell wouldn't notice. When Bry'Chell first saw one it was in the bathroom. One night she went in and flew out dancing (the pee-pee dance) to find me. When I went in the bathroom it was gone so she could go back in without fear. Since then she's become used to them. I think it's reassuring to her that she sleeps under a mosquito net carefully tucked in around the mattress. She figures it provides some barrier against the outside world.
I've been having email trouble lately. Actually, I've been having internet problems as well. I've been trying to post on my blog for over a week and this is my first time making the connection. My CSU email hasn't been receiving mail since September 14, so anyone who wants to reach me should try my new UMU email at jbirgen@umu.ac.ug.
Well, the library is closing for lunch, so I have to go. Hopefully, I'll be able to get my next post up fairly soon.
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