Knock knock. Who's there? Uganda!

Christmas Update

2012-01-28T02:36:00.006-06:00

I went to America for Christmas. (cue Team America theme song)

Ryan and I arrived in Dallas to be greeted by Caroline and Luke, my parents, and Everett. It was magical to see Caroline finally! The longest we’ve been apart so far. Never again, Line…never again!!

We had a 24 hr layover in Dallas before heading to South Carolina to visit Ryan’s fam. During this 24 hour layover, I bought new American clothes that fit my new African parasitic body, went out for delicious sushi, and took a shower with hot water! It was magical. Sushi was something I didn’t realize I would crave in Africa, but I totally did. 2 sushi rolls and a saki bomb made for a wonderful first meal.

South Carolina was great. I was able to meet Ryan’s family and friends as well as see where he grew up, his favorite places to eat, and his family church. Christmas with the Luckie’s was so relaxing. Quiet, low key, nice sit down dinner, and civilized…very different from my family Christmas. We are not quiet, low key, or extremely civilized.

Christmas in Texas was wonderful. I got to see family I haven’t seen in a year and a half, more specifically, my sister Laura…who surprised me when I got home, when we went to one of my favorite restaurants, the Bee Hive, on all you can eat shrimp night. The nieces and nephews have grown so much since I saw them last! It was fun to hang out with them and to get reacquainted with the younger ones. After Christmas, we spent a day at the ranch…my favorite place on earth. Being out there was what really made me feel like I was home. Playing Horseshoes, trivial pursuit, and 42 (domino game) with the fam made me so very happy.

It was sad to leave, but knowing all the wonderful things I have to come back to makes it all worth it.

Now since the two Christmas’s I had are so different from each other, I will include a picture comparison so that my 39 dedicated followers can see what I’m talking about.

Ryan and I in SC

Ryan and I in Texas

Luckie Family Picture

Everett Family Picture

See what I mean?

To sum up...Christmas was a blast. America is a wonderful place. I feel so blessed that I was born and raised in a land of opportunity and hot water.

Goings on at Site

2011-11-16T02:23:00.005-06:00

I just want to give an update to my plethora of thirty-something followers of what it is that I'm actually doing at my site...besides saving babies, of course.

Peace by Piece
I am still working on the quilting project with a group of tailors in my village on quilt making. We have recently gone from Twin bed size to Double bed size as well. Agnes, the head honcho, is still the queen bee of the group and has begun to make enough money so that she can buy materials to make the quilts at a faster rate instead of waiting around to have enough scrap pieces. She's beginning to branch out with different patterns and it works. It's very cool to see an idea that I had (a year ago) on a whim progress to something that is, hopefully, going to be something that will be able to provide income even after I'm back at home.

Other PxP quilting groups are going great guns as well. After a marketing tour around Uganda, we have found some markets in different touristy cities. We're also participating in an Art/Craft fair in Jinja and a Craft fair at the US Embassy.

We are so very lucky to have this project and members who are excited about it and are actively participating.

Citizens Beading Group
5 groups of boys and 1 group of girls at the local High School have been working so hard to make as many necklaces and bracelets as they can before the school breaks for Christmas. The necklaces are made out of paper beads constructed from pages of magazines. The groups are way more into this than I ever imagined possible when I first had an interest meeting about it. We are now working on establishing local markets in Mbarara as well as experimenting with different sizes and types of beads we can make.

If anyone would like me to bring you a necklace when I'm home over Christmas, just let me know so that I can confer with the groups to decide how much to over charge you.

RUHEPAI Member Database
I have been, for a while, teaching the office administrator how to use Microsoft Excel with the hopes of her being able to create a database of member information as well as a log of those whom the office actively helps.

This sounded pretty good to me, as I was thinking in terms of American Time. Time that would have power 24/7. Time that wouldn't include rain delays. Time that wouldn't include 2 hour lunches and tea breaks 2 times per day. Silly, really...because I am in Uganda. Not America.

TIA

Ugandan time is a horse of a different color. So, in order to get this thing up and running before my close of service date (Oct. 19, 2012) or the country falls apart (soon-ish) and we're evacuated, I have decided to build the database myself while at the same time teaching the office how to build it, how to manage it, how to edit it, and how to use all of its functions. I used to be opposed to just doing things without teaching others to do it fist. Something about sustainability...

This way of thinking went out the window...and I adjusted my attitude for 3 reasons:

I'm getting bored. I finished 2 books yesterday.
I'm running out of time.
My mom told me to. Yes mother, you were right*. Don't get excited.

* Actual amount of right-ness may vary

A Typical Morning

2011-11-08T23:21:00.002-06:00

8:08 am
I wake up and realize that my alarm didn't go off at 6:30. Strange. Wait...it's Saturday. OK, I have my bearings. I go to the kitchen/bathing room and put the water on for my morning instants: coffee and oatmeal. I take my hair out of a pony tail, yet it remains in pony tail position. A sure sign that I need to bathe. To prepare my self for the freezing water that rains down from a nook in my kitchen, I run in place for a minute or so...not too long, I don't want a side stitch this early in the morning. I shower. I mistake body wash for shampoo and don't realize the error until I turn the water off. Too Late. I get dressed. I eat my instant oatmeal and drink my instant coffee while checking e-mail and facebook. No emails. Not shocking. Nothing too interesting on the social network. I go through my packing checklist from the night before. I begin packing my backpack. There's a knock on my semi-open door followed by giggling. It's my two neighbor kids who are about 4 years old. They want sweeties. Sure, why not. I begin to hand them some sugar free life savers and a third kid runs up to get in on the action. Bruno Mars comes on my computer and we spend 3 1/2 minutes dancing on my stoop. The lawn mower and the sprinkler were the main moves of the morning, with a weird leg move they taught me coming in at a close second. I take out my trash and throw it in the pit that I have been told is burned on occasion. False. It is never burned. I stare at my few dirty dishes from the morning and decide not to do them until I return. A decision that I always regret, but make anyway. My house is somehow put together, my door is locked, security light on, and I'm ready to depart.

9:31 am
I walk down the dirt road to the taxi stage in my village. I signal to a driver with a head nod that I intend to board his vehicle. He nods back a confirmation. I hear my name, turn, and see a man who has both professed his love for me and tried to break into my house. He walks with (follows) me to the taxi. "Where are you going, Jen?" "To Mbarara" I say (really, to Masaka). "And you will return when?" he asks. I tell him I will return later today, when I will actually return 8 days later. He demands that I bring him back an apple from town. "Apples are expensive," I explain. His response is a look that tells me that this shouldn't be a problem for me. Because I want him to go away, I say "sure". I have no intentions of following through with this request. I'm ushered to the correct taxi and am told to sit in the front. I walk to the door, open it, and there's a woman with a small baby in the front. It is obvious that she had been breastfeeding and now 3's a crowd as she extends so that I, too, can fit in the front passenger seat. She extends, and I sit down. We greet each other in the local language and I learn that the baby is Rita. Rita is wearing a pink vest and a bib that says "Baby's 1st Christmas". Rita stares at me and throws up. Her mother cleans it up with one of the 4 blankets in which Rita is wrapped. The mother then readjusts Rita to be directly facing me. The car is full, and we start to move. I stare into Rita's judging eyes, and she back into mine. We both know what's going to happen. She just ate. The roads are beyond bumpy. She's going to throw up again, and now she's facing me. The inevitable happens about half way to town. I half shriek and grab one of the blankets to stop the baby vomit before it makes its way to me. I'm too late. My sweatshirt was a direct hit, as well as a bit of my hair. The mother is just watching unmoving and says, "Sorry, sorry". She doesn't mean it. When I have completed the clean up, the baby is turned away from me. Typical. I move my body washed hair to the left side of my body and ask myself, "Did a baby really just throw up on me?" The answer is yes. I need to get out of the vehicle stat. I yell "Masao!" to the driver, and he stops on the edge of town. I pay him 2,500 shillings and exit car left. I stand on the dirt sidewalk and take a deep breath. It's only 10 am.

Of Course

2011-11-04T08:11:00.003-05:00

After the previous post, this makes total sense.

Best Tourist Destination for 2012: Uganda

Who wants to come visit?

My First Riot

2011-11-04T05:47:00.003-05:00

I have survived my first riot.

So, I was in the Old Taxi Park in Kampala yesterday to catch a matatu to Entebbe for a Training for Camp BUILD, a boys empowerment camp. Taxis were at a stand still and you could hear people grumbling down the way towards the exit, a small ways from our taxi stage. We figured it was just people yelling at each other, no big deal. My friends and I get into a matatu with a few Ugandans, then ask them what the deal is, why we're not moving. "Oh, it is just some small few riots that usually happen." Hm....some small few riots? From my seat, I can see about 50 feet ahead of me, the exit from the park that is blocked by cars and people, and people standing on top of cars and yelling. We're sitting there for about 20 minutes, when all of a sudden shouting and yelling and screams start coming from the exit, of which my matatu is facing. I see about 30-40 people start running towards our car and away from the exit. Then I hear the word "tear gas" yelled by some passerby at full speed. Awesome. Things slow down, and people start shouting again. Then, it's eerily quiet, and you hear "thunk thunk thunk...pow pow...thunk thunk thunk"...and you see the smoke that is the tear gas. Everyone in my Matatu immediately close all the doors and windows and start to cover their faces with cloth, clothes, handkerchiefs, etc...I am wide eyed looking around at all of my friends, who all have a plethora of emotions on their faces. We're all quiet, just watching the tear gas stuff happen. The smoke fades, and we open the windows again. We call the safety and security officer to ask what to do. He tells us to stay in the car and he's on his way to get us. While he's on his way, another round of tear gas bombs are launched, this time, one lands right by our matatu, about 15 feet away. Close, but still not close enough to affect us. I put my hands over my eyes, covering my nose as well and buried my face in my backpack so I wouldn't breathe it. Again, the wind was blowing away from us, so the fumes weren't wafted our way. You could smell a faint odor, but eyes weren't affected, nose wasn't running, and I could feel a slight burning in my chest, which turned out to be indigestion. No big deal. After the second round, you see the police breaking things up and getting traffic moving. Because my matatu was so close to the exit and the action, we were the 2nd car out of the park. We passed about 20 armed police officers, 10 or so with tear gas cannons, a few big riot tanks, and a few reporters videoing all the action. The safety and security officer didn't have to pick us up after all and we made it safely to our destination.

Just another day in the peaceful utopia of Uganda...

Tid-Bits-Parents Visit-Bribe Backfire

2011-10-12T02:50:00.007-05:00

First off, some random tid-bits:

A village woman, whom I have never met, approached me at a Savings and Credit training. She said, "Oh, Jen! I have a picture of you up at my house! You should come see it. When will you come see it?" It was creep-tastic.

I have recently had multiple people tell me that my nose is Rwandese. After my neighbors chimed in on the subject, I asked them if I looked more Tutsi or Hutu. I gave them an assortment of glamor poses and views from all angles. This question was discussed and pondered in all seriousness for a good half hour. The results were inconclusive.

Mama Jenny celebrated her 90th Birthday! She's such a loving and generous grandmother, the best that anyone could ask for. I am so lucky to have her.

Mom and Dad visited Uganda!

So mom and dad came to Africa for almost 3 weeks. We had such a great time. It was great to see them for the first time in over a year and even more amazing to share my new life with them here in Uganda. They even met, and approved of, my man friend. Score!

Instead of boring you with my awesome, awesome words, I'll dazzle you with pictures of the festivities.

...and this completes the magical picture journey of my parents visit. Hopefully, more pictures to come soon-ish*.

Bribe Backfire

I had, in a previous post, mentioned my first bribe solicited in Uganda. I felt fairly confident that this would turn out to my advantage, so that my legacy could live on in a name after my departure from my years serving in Uganda.

Fail.

I receive a phone call from a weary sounding Shakira, saying, "Jen. Baby Scott is here." Well, I am super excited, as I think that my bribe actually worked. My neighbor had named her first born child after me after I wore down her defenses. Excellent! ...but not really. My spirits were high for approximately 18 hrs.

I returned to my site, eager to meet Baby Scott in person. I deposited my bags on my doorstep and immediately rushed across the dirt common area, deposited my shoes at the door, and bolted into my neighbors house to meet the little fella that would carry my middle name. While putting the little bundle of baby, and about 19 blankets, into my arms, Shakira announces, "Meet your baby. Baby Ryani". Doth my ears deceive me? "Baby who", I ask in a haze of shock and confusion? "Baby Ryani", she exclaims proudly. "Seriously, Shakira? You named your baby after Ryan? What happened to Scott, or Everett?", I demand. "Jen. He is baby Ryani. Now we both have one."

As I stared down at this 18 hour old baby in disbelief, I formulated a plan to improve my bribe soliciting skills, so that the next neighbor who turns up preggers...won't stand a chance.

* Probably Never

My New Cup

2011-09-15T08:08:00.004-05:00

This is now the only cup out of which I drink my boiled water.

Need I say more?

A very special thanks to Laura, for sending me this prized possession.

I’m still alive…how exciting!

2011-09-15T06:18:00.006-05:00

So, a bunch has happened since my last online contact, which I am told, has been over two months ago. Let me offer my most sincere of half apologies to those 5 people who actually read this…you know who you are.

I’ll start off with what I’ve been doing for the last 6 weeks. The Peace Corps asked me to be a Peace Corps Volunteer Trainer (PCVT) at the most recent training of the fresh meat from America. I was living in Wakiso Town (see “crap-hole” in dictionary) in a compound with the Ugandan trainers, going to training every day, and doing a plethora of un-active activities. I was there to answer questions, give advice, dispel rumors, teach sessions, attend meetings, and acquire per-diem. I didn’t think I was going to enjoy it at first, but as soon as the newbies got off the plane I was surprised to find that I was enjoying myself quite a bit. I not only learned that per-diem adds up to a ton of money, but that I actually have some cool projects going on at site. When you explain what you do with your organization 46 times to 46 different people, you start to think…huh…I’m actually doing Peace Corps-y type stuff. Way to go, me! I really am lucky to have the work that I have.

While at training, I:

- Was charged by a cow

- Yelled FIRE at a bar

- Ate street food every day

- Sold a quilt to a PC staffer

- Made some new friends, both from the new training group, and from the Ugandan training staff

- Pet a camel

It was tough being away from site for so long, but this was a great opportunity for me to help out with training and to change things with training to make it better in the future.

Moving on…

At one point in the past 2 + months, I was riding shotgun in a taxi with another person. Yes, we were both in the front seat, him half sitting on top of me. With limited room in the seat area, his arms had nowhere to go but right in my face. This person decided that crammed next to me would be the best time for him to compose a text message. With the phone literally 8 inches from my face, I couldn’t help but notice the message that he was typing up to send.

“To God be da groly!”

This is just a prime example of how l’s and r’s are reversed, switched, and interchanged in the languages of Uganda.

Baseball Weekend with JICA

Peace Corps organized a weekend of softball games with JICA, the Japanese equivalent of the Peace Corps. The event was held at the Ugandan Little League Baseball facility. Our being there was a fundraiser, of sorts, to buy mosquito nets for all the bunks in the facility…baseball and softball was a perk. This was so much fun! The facility has 2 fields. Instead of a fence in the outfield, there’s a nice little drop off into banana tree oblivion, that none dare pass. Should a fateful ball bounce its way down into the abyss, one of the local kids spectating would take the challenge upon himself to find and retrieve the ball. There were 3 teams, essentially. Peace Corps, JICA, and the Ugandan little league coaches. We all played one another, as well as played mixed games, getting to know people from the other teams. We feasted every night, watched a documentary of the Little League Team presented to us by the filmmaker, and envied the cargo short stylings of our new JICA friends. The weekend was a success, complete with an oversized polo shirt to prove it!

Weekend Getaway – Destination: Jinja

Apparently, Ryan and I were not the only people to have this idea. Once we arrived in Jinja at our lodgings at Nile River Explorers (on the River Nile), we found that we were not the only Peace Corps volunteers to have this bright idea. We ran into about 8 people from our training group. Doing our own thing by day, Ryan and I met up with everyone at the casino by night…where I won UGX 100,000. I’m not going to convert that to dollars, because it’s way less impressive. We ate good food, relaxed, and had a great time. One day for lunch I had a Greek salad with Thai chicken soup. I love Jinja.

Christmas….Listen Up!

My flight has officially been booked! There’s no turning back. Barring any major political issues with good ‘ol Yoweri (president) and/or Kizza (wishes he was president), I will be available from December 22 through the New Year. I am now officially accepting invitations for New Years parties, so get yours in early for due consideration.

ATTN: Accidental boyfriend will be accompanying me home for Christmas. He will be available for prodding, judgment, and intrusive personal questions from Noon to 1pm on December 23^rd. In the words of Jack Dawson, "Make it count". We’ll be at Ernie’s for lunch. Meet us there…and pay our tab.

I can’t wait to see what will set off my very first reverse culture shock breakdown. Cereal isle? Drinking from the tap? Paved roads? Only time will tell…

I’m finally back at my site

It feels great to be back in my village and in my house, even though the mice have left their mark everywhere. Nothing a little sweeping and my house girl can’t fix.

Upon return, I have discovered an important discovery worth discovering: My neighbor, Shakira, is preggers. Shakira, who I didn’t know was pregnant before I left a month and a half ago, is, in fact, almost 9 months in. How this could have gone unknown to me for so long, is a mystery, but one I don’t care to solve. The important thing to note out of all this is recognizing an opportunity when it presents itself. So, I have officially solicited my first bribe. I have told Shakira that if she names her baby “Jenny”, “Scott”, or “Everett”, that I will buy her baby clothes. This has made me feel even more integrated into Uganda, where bribes are part of the culture. This is just one more way (if any) in which my influence (if any) and legacy will live on in Uganda and in my village after I leave. Sustainability, ya’ll…dig it!

My future work at my organization for the next few months will now consist of Microsoft Excel training, so that we can eventually build a small database for the office. We also hope to train the farming groups on quilting so that they can make their own blankets and save money. This will be a big success if executed correctly. Now, it is just a matter of raising money for scissors and sewing needles for each of the 64 groups.

On a completely unrelated note, thank you so much to those who have sent me packages!

You Want Candy? Dance For It!

2011-07-06T09:32:00.004-05:00

As of late, I have been asked to help redesign the Peace Corps Uganda Pre-Service Training. This means that I will take part in the redesign, help to schedule the training, be present at training for a few weeks, and conduct trainings sessions of my own. It’s going to be time consuming, challenging, and fun. I can’t wait.

I have recently come to wonder why it is that I feel so hesitant about giving out candy (sweeties) to the gaggle of children that constantly surround my house. At first, I thought that my hesitations stemmed from the fact that they throw rocks at my metal door until I open it to their dirty outstretched hands, hoping that I give them a sweetie. Then, I wondered if perhaps it was due to the harsh, demanding nature of such orders (You give me my sweetie!) coming from people who are 2 feet tall. Lastly, I pondered the suggestion that it could be a consequence of their expectations, grown from the previous Peace Corps Volunteer in my village who’s legacy suggests that she gave out her candy day and night to any kid who wanted it (preach).

None of these perfectly logical reasons are why I am so dubious about placing a single piece of candy into each of these tiny little outstretched paws. The reason is that I feel like I’m not getting anything in return. Not a “thank you”. Not a “weebale”. Definitely not the courtesy of throwing the wrapper in the grass instead of leaving it on my porch. I want something in return, dang it…and I want instant gratification. I want to feel like I’m getting my shillings worth out of this little transaction. I want satisfaction, and I want it now.

So, here is the new policy that I have implemented. They must dance. That’s right. Dance. So now, whenever a group of kids surround me and demand that I give them a sweetie or else, I turn, face them, and say, “Mubanze Mwazina!”. This loosely translates as “Dance for it!”. Some stand there, puzzled, with a blank stare, wondering why they would have to dance to receive food. There are those that are too shy to dance hide behind the taller kids. Others drop it like it’s lukewarm, knowing that the sweet sweet reward is a delicious morsel of loveliness that only the bravest of children will know.

So dance on, children, for the 2-cent candy that I dangle over your little head. Make me proud. Dance on.

Sister Visit and Stuff

2011-06-20T05:58:00.001-05:00

The past week has been somewhat of a roller coaster, but Psalm 119:147 has helped me through it. Prayer is a powerful thing. Do it.

The quilters are completing orders now, and have just secured a deal with Lakeview Resort Hotel to sell quilts in the Hotel Craft Shop on a commission basis. I think this is a good thing.

The Sisters
The visit from the sisters was a hit. We went on two safaris, rafted the Nile, bathed infrequently, and had a blast. Apart from the safaris and the Nile, it was just like home.

We started out by hanging around the Nile. Tourist style shopping and a boat cruise on the Nile River combined with white water rafting and equatorial sunburn is a recipe for success.

Next up, a safari. Our tricked out safari tour vehicle was a 5 passenger Toyota Corona with 6 people in it and a cracked windshield. The driver of this little gem thought that we weren’t getting our moneys worth ($18 per person) by seeing the lions at a safe distance that were lying down away from the road, and decided that we needed a closer look. A much closer look. This daring young ssebo turns off the dirt road into the National Park and drove straight at them until they had to get up and avoid being run over by a taxi. Worth every penny, even if we were almost charged by a lioness.

After our game drive in a car that could have been toppled by a newborn elephant with its eyes closed and trunk tied behind it’s back, we went to the fancy hotel that overlooked Lake Edward in the national park. Over fruity drinks, we enjoyed the beautiful view from the hotel at which we couldn’t afford to stay. We then walked to our hostel down the road with dirt paths and community bathrooms that only flushed if you knew its’ secret handshake.

The next morning we boarded a small ferry for a boat tour around the lake where we saw Crocodiles, Monkeys, Water Buffalo, lots of animals with horns, and Hippos. We passed fishing villages, took great pictures, and even ran over a Hippo or two in the boat along the way. Very cool.

I’m so happy that my family now has an idea of where I live, what I’m doing in the Peace Corps, what my bathroom looks like, how cold my shower water is, how much privacy I don’t have, the amount of dirt that I deal with, and how many children stare at me all day long.

Sister Visit: Success

Words of Wisdom

2011-06-18T03:03:00.011-05:00

I was recently at an event with my organization that was held at a school in the area. I noticed that there were small signs nailed on every single tree on the grounds. I approached each sign to see what they said. This is what I discovered.

Field Day and Mud Mansions

2011-05-18T04:22:00.006-05:00

Shorts that Fit
During training, I ordered a Peace Corps Uganda soccer jersey. I had no intention of playing on the PC team, I just wanted a soccer jersey with my name on the back of it. I finally received my jersey a few weeks ago to find that it came with shorts as well! I was super stoked, since I didn’t bring but 1 pair of athletic shorts with me. After cutting out the underwear-ish lining, something white caught my eye. It was a tag. The size tag. XXXXL shorts…I wish I could say they were too big, but they fit wonderfully. This little fact does wonders for my self esteem.

Sermon Tag Team
So, I am in my usual restaurant in Mbarara where I come to work a couple times a week. I met a man who I have seen here many times but never spoken to. He is a pastor outside of Mbarara and wants me to come talk to the women there about quilt making. He went into a big to-do about God providing (a muzungu), praying, and his vision for his place outside of town.

Then, another man walks up and says, "Sista...do you want me to beat him for you? Is he talking too much?". He was joking, introduces himself to me, and he too is a pastor. This man goes on and on and on about God, trying to "save" me. I think that if I show him my bible in my bag, that he will know I'm a Christian and leave me alone. Nope. Wrong. He takes one look at the bible and says, "That's good, but it won't help you. The only thing that can help you is your relationship with Jesus Christ, because he wants to be your father. You have your father in America, but he doesn't love you.". Great, I'm thinking. Here we go. 30 minutes later into his sermon directed at me in the restaurant, he grabs my bible, gives it to me, and says, "turn to Psalm 139 and start to read at verse 13.". I do, because I don't want to screw up whatever roll he's on. I turn and start to read aloud, conscious of everyone in the restaurant looking at my table. After every verse, he repeats the last few words with emphasis, and then explains them in his own African-English way. After. Each. Verse...Until the end of the chapter. When I finish the last verse, he shakes my hand and leaves. Then the other pastor looks at me and says, “Jane…you pay for my tea.”

Field Day with my Organization
My organization recently had their annual ‘field day’, where members get together for lunch and an afternoon of trainings. This was my first field day with my organization and it was great! There were short speeches, long speeches, tree planting, banana management trainings, locally catered lunch, dancing, songs of praise for the organization, and much more. It was fun to see the excitement that these people have for my organization, RUHEPAI (rural health promotion and poverty alleviation initiative).

When it was over, I was standing by the tent waiting for my work colleagues to gather their things to leave. I noticed that there was a girl standing a short distance away from me, slowly inching closer. Then, all of a sudden, she was gone. This happened a couple times. I noticed that none of these people were actually looking at me, they were just scooting extremely close to me, pausing, then walking away. I finally caught on. They all wanted pictures with me, and were doing it “Say Anything” style. They were getting close enough to me for the man photographing the event to snap a picture. When they saw that I had noticed what was happening, they started asking me for a picture. So, the photographer found a good spot, and took my picture with a woman. Then, another woman came up and took her place, and another picture was taken. I look to the side, and a line has formed. I stand in the same place for about 20 minutes, with an overly enthusiastic smile plastered on my face, while person after person comes and gets their picture taken with the Muzungu. I even had a baby thrust into my arms at one point.

Sisters Coming
T-minus 2 days until my sisters arrive in Uganda!!!! Except for you, Laura. Sorry.

Mud Mansions
When the rains come, the kiddos get together and see who can make the best mud mansions.

I Make Quilts

2011-05-05T03:49:00.008-05:00

I’m Back

EASTER
I have just spent my first Easter in Uganda. It was awesome, and here is how it went.

Friday
Traveled to Nkokonjeru in the East and got settled in the convent where about 15 volunteers were gathered. The convent runs a school for disabled kids. We were at Anne's site. Anne is genetically wired to be an awesome cook and welcomed us with a Mexican Fiesta, including homemade tortillas, mole, salsa, guacamole, beans, and chicken. The chicken was prepared by a girl who goes to the school there. She is super sweet. I forget her name.

Saturday
Wake up and have a pancake breakfast. We take it easy and get ready to go hike a waterfall and eat lunch at the waterfall. We (I’m including myself, but had nothing to do with the deliciousness) take the leftover beans, salsa, and a ton of cumin, and make a bean salad for lunch to take with us, along with a few pineapples to cut when we get there, and the ‘fixins for PB and J. The waterfall was super cool, and we got a tour of the surrounding area. The tour consisted of a tea field, meeting a witch doctor, seeing places where people go offer eggs to a snake in a cave for it to grant them good fortune, and the waterfall. We went back to the convent where we broke into 4 teams and had a pizza challenge. The convent has a bakery, so we got to use their industrial ovens. We made pizza dough, added sauce, tomatoes, and toppings, and cooked them up. It was delicious. My team came in 2nd I think.

Sunday
3 other volunteers and I got up to go to 8am mass at the convent. It was so cool! The sisters were singing, and I thought it sounded just like the nuns in the sound of music....until the African drums started beating, and 4 nuns got up on "stage" at the front behind the priest and danced. It was my first time to a catholic mass, so I had no idea what was happening when everyone would just start reciting something in unison, including 2 of my friends. I had so many questions, like "what's that smoke thing?", "huh?", and "how did they make that candle so big?". Breakfast was "make your own omelet". After breakfast, I went to the bakery to help make cakes for the kiddos later. That was fun, getting to use the biggest mixer I've ever seen. I could have fit inside of it. We were on our own for lunch, just eating something we could find in town or something left over. There were 5 of us that went to the school and dyed Easter eggs with the kids and distributed cake. It was fun seeing all of these smiling kids in wheelchairs and roller beds having a good time. After the egg dying, we went back to the convent and began to prepare dinner. Dinner was roasting a pig...that was walked over from down the street. Everyone gathered to watch the pig slaughter. 3 guys held it down, while one cut its throat. The squeal will haunt my dreams for-e-ver. After it was decapitated, a couple Ugandans came to "skin" it for us. They poured boiling water on the skin and scraped it with a machete. This got all the hair off. Then they gutted it and our friend Michael made all the meat cutting decisions since he knows about how to get the good pieces and what not. Then a pit was dug near some banana trees. We needed a grill and didn't have one, so we got an old metal bed frame, took off the mattress, and straddled it over the fire pit. The metal wires going back and forth made a great grill top, so we cooked our dinner on a bed. Rubs, marinades, and sauces were prepared and slathered on all the meat and grilled up to perfection. Dave and I were the "carvers", cutting the cooked meat into cavemen-sized chunks and pieces for people to take. The ribs were delicious, as was the tenderloin. Delicious. It was the best meat I've had in Uganda so far...and is going to be hard to beat. I will totally eat the hogs at the ranch now if it will taste like this. Accompanied with potatoes, coleslaw, and green beans, this was our delicious Easter dinner. We had a book, movie, and music swap amongst the volunteers.

Monday
World Malaria Day
Woke up and headed down to the school where I worked the registration table with Michael. There were sessions going on about malaria awareness, prevention, etc. It started raining really hard, so the registration table was moved to the craft table. Here, I bought some necklaces and bracelets for the nieces. Lucky and I decided to leave early since it was raining and we'd have to pay extra for an extra night. We headed to Jinja for milkshakes and Western food. Jinja: a magical place where dreams come true. We went to the Nile River Casino...on the Nile River! I lost $25 playing Caribbean poker. I'm a big spender, what can I say. I had a couple of free cokes, too, while I was there, so it was all worth it.

Tuesday
Made the 2-hour trip to Kampala where we ate lunch. Then made the 6-hour jaunt back to my site.

The End

Quilting Project: Peace by Piece
I have started a quilting project in my village with a group of tailors. The idea is to take the scrap fabric they would usually throw away, and make a blanket that they can sell. It is coming along, slowly but surely. I feel that this has great potential to do well. Other volunteers have expressed interest in doing the same thing at their site with the tailors in their village. We brainstormed, and came up with the name “Peace by Piece” for the project. I’m currently working on a “how to” manual for people who are interested in doing this in their villages.

I am also learning how to quilt so that I can teach it to the locals. Before this, the only thing I had ever used a needle for was to extract splinters. Who would have ever guessed that I would join the Peace Corps and make quilts?

Marketing is one issue I will face. My village is small and doesn’t get much traffic. These types of blankets will appeal to tourists, and we don’t get much of those in my neck of the woods. I have contacted the local fancy hotel craft shops about selling them. They want to see samples, but seem extremely excited to have some locally made blankets to sell to tourists. It’s exciting that we now have a lead to sell our blankets. Fancy hotels, combined with all the Muzungus I will force to purchase quilts, will result in success.

So, if you would like to order a handmade quilt made by the women of Uganda, let me know. It might be encouraging to the group members to know that they’re in demand.

Peace Corps 50th Anniversary
The 50th anniversary of the Peace Corps is this year. Some all-star volunteers organized a service project for us at a school in Lweza, which is close to Entebbe. Many volunteers met for a day of service and fellowship. There were multiple projects going on at once: life skills, peace garden, wall painting, mural painting, sports and activities, etc. I was a part of the Peace Mural Painting group. There were a ton of kiddos who took part in the activity. After explaining 'peace', the kids were instructed to grab a partner, a brush, and some paint, and paint something that they think of when they think of 'peace'. My job in all of this was to draw the circle in the middle of the wall, as well as patrol around to make sure kids weren't painting themselves, each other, or anything else they shouldn't be. It was a fun day full of great experiences spent with great people.

March Condiment Madness

2011-03-20T04:40:00.013-05:00

So here’s the thing…

My obsession with condiments, Ryan Luckie’s March Madness enthusiasm (his word...I would have gone with 'craze'), and a weekend of time on our hands has resulted in one gem of a blog post that no doubt is of award winning journalistic proportions.

What you will experience, should you choose the red pill (Matrix reference), is competition, intrigue, shock, awe, disappointment, joy, betrayal, and truth.

What we did:
A list of 48 top condiment candidates was compiled. Then a draft was held, where we alternated picking our top 8. The rest were coupled and randomly assigned spots in the bracket. Oh ya, there's a bracket. Feel free to view the bracket to see how the finalists came to be. The condiments battled it out, and we are left with 2 finalists:

A1 Sauce vs. White Queso.

A1 Sauce is my winner, and white queso is Ryan's winner. In order to have a fair battle to decide which condiment is the best, we are taking it to a poll (found at the bottom of the post).

But first, a bit of campaigning for my candidate:

Campaigne Slogan #1: A1 Sauce...always there for you when you need it.

Campaigne Slogan #2: A1 Sauce...changing lives.

Since it's invention in 1824, A1 Steak Sauce has rocked peoples worlds all over the universe. Whether it's on a steak, a burger, a baked potato, or whatever else you want to put it on (yellow squash...try it), it does the trick. It's delicious, and comes in so many varieties: Original Steak Sauce, Thick and Hearty, Cracked Peppercorn, Bold and Spicy, Hickory Sweet, Kobe Sesame Teriyaki, and Smoky Mesquite...not to mention the marinades! My candidate can do so much more for you than the opposition. A1 has something for the whole family. With the perfect blend of awesomeness and love, A1 will help you to become a better person. A1 Sauce changes lives. It cures cancer*. White Queso is a life ruiner and won't cure anything, but it will burn your tongue and the roof of your mouth if consumed whilst hot (score!). Then you won't be able to enjoy the rest of your food, because your mouth will hurt...and you won't be able to taste anything properly afterwards for at least 3 days. What a jerk. Am I right? Yes. I am. Then who will be there to pick up the pieces? A1 Sauce. That's who. Why? Because A1 Sauce is always there for you when you need it. White queso is only there in the beginning and then abandons you. A1 sauce is in it for the long haul...and it is what a condiment should be.

My name is Jenny S. Everett, and I approve this message.

Now for the poll. Think of what being a condiment means to you, and vote for your preference.

*actual amount of truth may vary

A Children's Riot and a Chin Whisker

2011-02-22T03:17:00.001-06:00

Today, I plucked a whisker off of my chin. This inevitable, unspeakable incident tells me two things:
1. That I’m getting older.
2. That I am, in fact, a Castleberry, completely ruling out the possibility that I was adopted.

A Children’s Riot
This story ends with water bottles being thrown through my open windows, followed by big arm gestures and yelling.

Rewind to 30 minutes to the beginning: I had just returned to my house from a trip into town to check my PO Box. I was pleased to find that I had two packages from the best of friends back home. I took my time opening the packages, inspecting and stowing away each item with the care you would give to gold bricks and fine diamonds. Because that is exactly what drink mixes, ramen noodles, and packaged tuna are…priceless treasures. As I was putting away the drink mixes, I realized that I had about a zillion individual mixes for water bottles (this made me realize that I don’t drink enough water). I decided to do a good deed, and give some of these to the little kids around my house. I peered outside, and there were only 3 or 4 loitering outside of my door at the moment. Perfect. I opened my door, and explained that if they would bring me an empty water bottle, I would fill it with “soda”. It took them a while to figure it out, but eventually they caught on. So, I filled the water bottles with Wild Raspberry Crystal Lite and Strawberry Daiquiri flavored packets. The kids thought that this was fantastic, and so did I. I enjoyed giving things to the little kids and enjoyed seeing their little juice stained smiles ask for seconds. While I was explaining that you only get one per person, a few more kids came up with extra large water bottles. “They’re catching on”, I thought to myself. So, I gave those kids some “soda” too. Before I knew it, there were about 20 kids outside all holding water bottles and yelling things in the local language that I haven’t learned yet. Some were coming back for seconds telling me that they had not had any yet. Confused by which kids I had served, and which I hadn’t, I decided to close up shop. I announced in slow spoken Ugandan English that “the soda is finished”, and immediately turned around and closed the door…but I wasn’t quick enough. One kid had wedged himself in the door so that it wouldn’t close. He was looking at me with wide eyes and was holding out an empty water bottle to me, saying something I couldn’t understand. I had to brace the door with my leg, as I pushed him outside by the forehead, while simultaneously repeating in escalation, “tis finished!” The electricity was out, so all of my windows were open for light. I sat back on my couch, exhausted at the strength it took to shut my big metal door on about 8 little kids who were trying to push it back open. Then my phone rang. It was another volunteer calling to chat. The whole time he was talking, I was staring at all the new faces appearing in my windows. The child mob grew louder and louder. Thy started knocking on my door and didn’t stop. Then they all started sticking their arms through the windows shaking the water bottles at me, as if that would compel me to give them what they wanted. Bottles started coming through my windows at rapid speed and force. I’d had enough. I ended the phone conversation I wasn’t paying attention to by saying I had to go put a stop to a children’s riot developing outside my door. I hung up, put on my meanest face, and went outside. I forcefully yelled at the kids in the local language and told them “Mugende” (go away). “Hati” (now). “Ninza kukuteera if you don’t mugende” (I’m going to beat you if you don’t go away”. They seemed to get the picture when I started pushing them away. The actual physical contact with a muzungu seemed to terrify them. I’ll have to remember this in the future. They seemed to disperse, but a few stuck around hoping they would finally get what they wanted. They were wrong. I closed my door, sat on my couch, took a deep breath, and then exfoliated my feet with a new peppermint foot scrub I received in one of my new packages.

Dedicated to Duct Tape

2011-02-19T05:08:00.005-06:00

Duct tape: The best invention ever*.

There was a possibility that, during the elections, all volunteers would be consolidated to a specific area for safety. We were told to pack our bag with the essentials, in case we had to leave the country at the drop of a hat. So, I set about making my list of things to pack. Number four on the list was Duct Tape, with number one being Contacts, and number 6 being Passport. I have had several people ask me, “Why would you pack Duct Tape.” “Why wouldn’t you pack duct tape“ is a much better question to ask. You can use it to fix almost anything! I can guarantee you that should we consolidate and/or evacuate, someone will, for some reason, ask to use my Duct Tape. This will make me so happy, as I will get to tell the token Smart Asses of the group “I told you so”. I will say it with a smirk that will undoubtedly make them mad…which only adds to the pleasure of my saying it.

I have taken time out of my busy schedule of saving babies to come up with a list of reasons/scenarios that you would need Duct Tape.

They are as follows:
1. Oh no! Your bag rips and all your stuff starts to fall out. Duct Tape.
2. What if your backpack strap breaks? Duct Tape.
3. You’re walking along and your sandal strap breaks and your shoe won’t stay on your foot. What do you do? Duct Tape.
4. Your pants are way too big because of hand washing and they won’t stay up, and you would buy a belt, but they all come with Obama belt buckles attached. Duct Tape Suspenders.
5. You need to label something. Duct Tape + Sharpies (don’t worry, I packed those too).
6. You need to tape some papers together because you don't have a stapler. Duct Tape
7. Need to tie chickens legs together for bus travel? Duct Tape.
8. The person sitting next to you on the bus is holding a child that just won’t pipe down? Duct tape.
9. You make a citizens arrest and left your zip ties at home. Duct Tape.
10. Your skirt/pants rip in the most scandalous of ways. Duct Tape.
11. You don’t want to carry a fancy wallet for fear of it being stolen. Duct Tape Wallet.
12. You don’t have enough hands to carry your bags. Duct Tape a small one to a big one.
13. Your bag is too big and you don’t have a cinch strap. Duct Tape.
14. Need to distinguish something of yours from somebody else’s? Duct Tape.
15. Don’t want your shampoo to leak in your bag? Duct Tape.

I rest my case.

Questionable Use of Duct Tape

*FACT

Banana Field of Dreams

2011-02-16T06:02:00.004-06:00

I've noticed for a while now, that there are people constantly walking back and forth in front of my door. "Where do they go?" I ask myself. So, I investigate. At first I thought that they were visiting my neighbors. False. Then I thought they were fetching water, but they weren't carrying jerry cans. Nope. I finally wondered if they work in the banana field. Wrong. They walk from town towards the banana field, into the banana field, and they disappear...and they don't come back. Then, sometimes, people emerge from the banana field, only to disappear again back into it at the end of the day. After thinking about it for what seemed like a whole 10 minutes, I've finally figured it out.

It's the Banana Field of Dreams. They're all dead futball players who come back to play on the pitch down the road. Maybe if I sit at my window and stare long enough, I'll get a glimpse of James Earl Jones.

African News Tidbits

2011-02-12T02:49:00.005-06:00

Here are just a few little tidbits of things going on in the News from around Africa. Enjoy.

Malawi to Ban Farting
Pretty self explanatory. Check out the link and have a good laugh.

Ugandan Presidential Elections Draw Near
What will happen is uncertain, as the elections for Uganda's next president draw closer.

Egyptian President Steps Down
After 18 days of protests, President Mubarak resigns.

Southern Sudan Votes for Independence
The vote showed that 99% of voters chose to split Africa's biggest country.

Ivory Coast Prez Loses Election, Refuses to Step Down
President Gbagbo loses election, but refuses to give up power.

Ugandan Gay Rights Activist Murdered
A gay rights activist in Uganda, where homosexuality is illegal, was murdered.

God Speaks

2011-02-02T01:48:00.005-06:00

So, I stopped by the post office to mail 3 letters to the US that I wrote 3 weeks ago but never got around to sending. When I asked for the stamps, the nice lady behind the counter (not to be confused with the total shrew who sometimes graces us with her terrible presence) pointed to a sign on the column to the left of the window. The sign said that all post being sent to the US and Canada has been suspended until further notice. Huh? They are still allowing things to come IN from the US and Canada…but not go out? I assume this has something to do with the upcoming elections…but what? So, since I cannot correspond via snail mail with anyone from home, I would like you all to operate under the assumption that you were to be the intended recipient of one of the three letters and that it contained many wonderful things, written in such a touching manner that it made you both laugh and cry.

On Sunday, I attended an event at the local community center presented by FAOC (Foundation for Aids Orphaned Children). There were many crafts, handmade by the students participating in the program. Beads, baskets, chairs, drawings, and concrete pots were all available for purchase. There were presentations of song, poetry, testimony, and Michael Jackson style dance. There were even Ugandan pop stars as special guests. They sang and spoke of AIDS prevention. At the end of the event, the mayor got up in front of everyone and gave a special thanks to the people responsible for this wonderful event. He mentioned Pamela and Tanner, the Canadian couple that put it all together, and then he continued on. I was busy playing with a kid sitting beside me, not paying attention to the mayor, pretending that batteries were cars and zooming them all over the chairs and crashing them into each other, when I heard two words: “RUHEPAI” and “AMBER”. Upon hearing my organizations name and my mistaken identity, I thought to myself, “no…it can’t be!” When I looked up, he was pointing at me saying into the microphone, “….and a special thanks to the development worker from the US Peace Corps” (Peace Corps being pronounced phonetically). I was forced to stand up, wave, and take partial credit for this event, which I in no way helped organize or put together. People clapped and nodded their heads, like my participation was known because of the color of my skin. Then I bought a green and hot pink basket.

On the way home from the event which I had nothing to do with, It started to rain. The coolness of the rain felt like a Godsend, since it had been blazingly hot that day with zero shade clouds. I took my time walking home, gaining some extremely confused looks by those running past me to get out of the weather. I figured that this was a great opportunity for me to collect water, since the water for the whole village has been cut off for an entire month. I arrived home, and immediately grabbed 3 jerry cans, 2 basins, a cup, and a homemade funnel. I went outside to where the water runs off of my roof, and let the collection begin. My neighbors thought it was hilarious to see the Muzungu collecting water in a basin, and then dishing it out with a cup to put in the jerry can through a funnel made from an old water bottle. I gathered a crowd of about 6 neighbors, and they just stood there in the shelter of my house watching and giggling at me. I was soaked by the time I was finished, but I now have water to drink, cook, bathe, and wash dishes. Take THAT, naysayers!!

I have begun setting up my computer on a stool and facing it towards my door with a cartoon movie playing, so that when the children gather (as they most certainly will), they will stare at the movie instead of watching my every move. We blazed through Finding Nemo last week, and have this week started The Lion King. I had a gaggle of about 10 children assembled outside my door, when it started to rain. I was in my kitchen doing dishes, heard the rain start, and walked into the room where the movie was playing to check and see if rain was coming in the open door. Most of the kids had run away to their houses to get out of the rain, but 3 remained to watch the movie. They had brought in the stool to the middle of the room, shut the door, and were all lounging around watching Mufasa save Simba from the hyenas. I was shocked at their initiative to make themselves at home, but figured that it was great that they weren’t scared of me anymore. I sat down to watch the movie with them, when one little boy, Shemise (3 years old), gets up and opens the door. He stands in the doorway, pulls down his pants, and pees out the door. This motivates a second little boy, Sharriff (3 years old), to do the same. I was so shocked at what was happening that I would only stare at the scene in front of me in disbelief with my jaw hitting the floor. They shut the door, and resumed their position in my chair to watch the movie.

I’ve mentioned before that I feel closer to God in Uganda than I ever felt at home. I don’t know if it's because I’m trying harder to build a relationship with Him, or because there are less distractions from hearing His wisdom. Even though I am an entire month behind in my Bible Study, I try my best to hear what God has to say to me. Whether it’s through feelings, sights, the rain, or other people…I know that He is here speaking to my heart. Mostly, he says, “um…yeah. You probably shouldn’t eat that”. And He’s right.

Muzungu...You Become Muslim

2011-01-29T02:48:00.005-06:00

A lot has happened since my last blog post, so I’ll do my best to hit the highlights.

Recently, 20/20 had a segment about the Peace Corps. This TV special was centered around the murder of a female Peace Corps Volunteer in Benin, as well as other female volunteers who have been the victims of Rape and Sexual Assault while in service. The theme of the program was of the negligence of the Peace Corps and their lack of response in handling these situations. The show obviously had an agenda and targeted the negative instead of focusing on all of the positive that PC accomplishes. I just want to make it clear to family and friends back home that I have all the faith in the world that the Country Director of Uganda is extremely invested in the safety and security of his volunteers. I feel that I am in more than capable hands, and do not want this 20/20 program to affect anyone’s attitude towards my safety or the Peace Corps in general.
At our In Service Training, my entire training class gathered in a conference hall to watch the program that we downloaded and played over a projector. It was extremely sad, and really hit home with everyone. After it was over, we all stayed for 2 hours to discuss our feelings about what we had just seen. This made me realize how special our group of 45 volunteers is and how lucky we are to have one another. 100% retention so far…a Peace Corps Uganda record!

In Service Training is a 10-day training period at a swanky hotel for volunteers completing their first 3 months of service. One night at the hotel, there was a concert on the lawn. There were tons of Ugandans in attendance. Every once in a while, a local would jump up on stage and dance. They were almost always escorted off stage. Some of my friends decided that it would be a great idea to go on stage to dance as well. Not wanting to be left out (and because of peer pressure), I followed them to the stage, dancing along the way. My butt was slapped a couple times on the way, but I just took this as encouragement that what I was about to do was most definitely the right decision. We reached the stage, and all 5 of us bounded up and began to steal the spotlight. My sights were set on the singer, and I began to bust my uncoordinated white girl moves at him. The crowd was cheering us on, so I figured we were all making some magical things happen. I was right. My friend, Amanda, was on the other side of the singer dancing, and at one point, we created a Ugandan Pop Star Sandwich of Glory. We exited the stage left before any more dancing damage could be done, and walked away with our heads held high…and a great story in our back pockets.

After IST, the majority of the group piled into a bus and were shuttled to Jinja to raft the Nile River. We arrived at the Base Camp, found our rooms, and enjoyed the scenery until it was time for the all you can eat Booze Cruise. We boarded a double deck boat for a 2 hour trip on the water. Such a great cruise with wonderful scenery of both wildlife and village life. The next morning we had breakfast, were given our life jackets, helmets, and oars, and we hit the water. All day was spent going over awesome rapids. We had lunch on the water, consisting of pineapple cut fresh on the boat and glucose biscuits. I peed in the Nile twice, went over a waterfall, and saw monkeys on the shore. Our boat flipped once, only causing mild injuries…no big deal. This was such a fun weekend! I can’t wait to do it again when my sisters come to visit! Who cares if I get Shisto from the water…It was totally worth it.

On the way back to site from my 2-week vacation, our bus stopped for a “short call” on the side of the road. We had about a 15-minute delay because a man pooped his pants. Good Times.

In the taxi to my village, I sat by/on top of a man with a Muslim hat atop his bald head. He struck up a conversation with me about my becoming a Muslim and how he wanted to convert me. The conversation went a little like this:

“Muzungu, you should become a Muslim.”
“But I cannot, Ssebo.”
“Why not, Muzung? ‘Tis good.”
“Because, Ssebo. I am a Christian.”
“That does not matter, Sista. You can still become a Muslim.”
“But there are differing beliefs between Islam and Christianity.”
“That is OK, Muzungu. You just become Muslim. I will show you.”
“Would I have to cover my head all the time?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to have to cover my head all the time. I couldn’t do it.”
“Oh (knowing nod), I understand.”

Basically, being a Christian wasn’t a good enough excuse for me to resist becoming Muslim…but not wanting to cover my head all the time was perfectly acceptable.

Picture Hodgepodge

2011-01-03T06:20:00.007-06:00

Things I've received in the mail.

Moldy Beef Jerky mailed in a zip-lock baggie. Beef Jerky Fail.

Expired Gardetto's. A bit stale, but still delicious.

A Buckaroo blanket. The best of all. Mom gets an A+. Well done.

Field Work

Field of Cabbages.

Sugarcane

Why wouldn't this kid have a machete?

Biking through a banana plantation.

Transportation tools: wheelbarrow and bike.

Picking weeds in a position that makes my legs hurt just looking at it.

Women weaving baskets and mats in the market.

Language Lesson

2010-12-29T22:11:00.009-06:00

So, my Ugandan friend, Mary, came over yesterday unexpected. Ugandans have a tendency of not asking to be invited in, they just barge past you and come in whether you want them to or not. They're not like vampires, unfortunately, who have to be invited in and can have their invitation revoked at any given moment. If you open the door for a Ugandan, it's all over. Anyway, while Mary was here for her (long) visit, we talked about geography and English words. She is always wanting to expand her vocabulary, and I help her with new words, how you pronounce them, and what they mean. Today was a treat, as she asked me to explain to her the difference between a prostitute and a bitch. The whole time during my lengthy and detailed explanation with examples, she sat straight faced and completely hanging on my every word. She was shocked that men could be prostitutes. She thought it was just a term that encompassed women. She was also surprised to hear that in America, it is illegal for a person to be a prostitute but not illegal for someone to be a bitch.

Oh, cultural exchanges...

Christmas and a Fist Fight

2010-12-28T01:41:00.002-06:00

Christmas in Uganda was a hit. Spent with friends I had not seen since training, we listened to Christmas music, watched a Christmas movie, had a Glee marathon, cooked a bunch of great food, decorated a Christmas tree, and played many games of Yahtzee where I came in dead last every single time.

I missed spending the time with my American family, but spending it with my new Peace Corps family was hard to beat.

Highlights include an amazing apple pie, opening presents, mimosas, Amanda's shoe falling into the pit latrine, and being with friends.

On a completely unrelated note...
I decided to travel to Mbarara to buy some groceries. I walked to the taxi stage and was greeted by two different men of two different taxis. They were both grabbing my arm and directing me towards their cars. They got upset at each other, because they both wanted me to ride in their car. I shrugged them away from me giving them the "don't touch me" stink eye. They continued to yell at each other over who would have the pleasure of hauling me to town. Yelling turned to shoving, shoving turned to hitting, and then all of a sudden there were about 10 people involved in the dispute. All the while, I am sitting back watching all the fun. I decide that I had had enough of this, so I flag down a third taxi that is passing by on the road. They pull over, I get in, we leave, and the fight continued without me. Good times in Uganda.

The Sense of Smell...

2010-12-14T23:03:00.002-06:00

The sense of smell is an incredible thing. You can be taken back in time to a moment you had not thought of for years. It can change your emotions, giving you a peaceful feeling that you hadn’t felt in ages, and yet, you’re not sure why. You can relive memories, people, and feelings with a fleeting whiff of, you don’t know what, from somewhere or something around you. Sometimes I smell this certain flavor, I don’t even know what it is, and I think of a blue and pink rabbit necklace that had a button on the back that you pushed for it to play music. My grandmother gave it to me.

On this particular occasion, my sense of smell hit me like a ton of bricks. It said, “Jenny, sweetie. You stink”.

I got back to my 6X8 foot hotel room after a 12-hour day of workshops with my organization. I knew I was pretty grungy, so I grabbed my hotel issued towel and waited my turn for the community shower, conveniently located directly beside my room. When I heard the water shut off, I waited for the creak of the door, indicating departure. I made my move. I had a lovely, hot (too hot) shower that lasted twice as long as it should have, just because I wanted to savor the precious hot water. I toweled off, put on my pajamas, put a towel around my head, and began the 3-foot hike back to my matchbox. I struggled with the key at first, but didn’t get frustrated because I had just, 30 minutes prior, taken a Uganda pharmacy Diazepam to help me sleep. I finally put my newly acquired African weight into it (thanks rice), and the door flew right open. That’s when my sense of smell yelled at me. My room stunk like a dirty person. How could I not have realized at the time that I stunk so badly? I had no idea. It took soap, shampoo, and scalding hot water to cleanse my nose of the day, and of myself. I never once thought throughout the day that I might smell like a combination of feet, sweat, and wet dog. You can get so used to a smell, that you stop noticing it. It takes just a short absence, or a shower, to help you realize upon return, that you did, in fact, smell revolting.

Oh, the sense of smell…it’s an incredible thing.

Pit Latrines: Advantages?

2010-12-10T22:37:00.005-06:00

Recently, a friend and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer listed on his blog his top five Advantages of Pit Latrines.

It got me to thinking about my top five advantages, so I've decided to list mine as well.
They are as follows:

1.

The End

5 Things I've Learned In Uganda

2010-12-09T01:09:00.007-06:00

I've learned some very important life lessons during my time in Uganda. Today, I share some of these lessons.

1. Pineapples do NOT grow on trees. The fact that I did not know this is a testament to how badly my Elementary school has failed me.

2. It is perfectly acceptable to have a giant billboard of a woman breastfeeding. In fact, it's encouraged.

3. Babies are a standard substitute for backpacks.

4. 11 people can totally fit in a 5 passenger vehicle and live to tell the tale.

5. Sharpening knives is both a skill and a workout...and involves a bicycle.

T-giving, queso, and HP

2010-12-03T01:21:00.003-06:00

Language Barrier
Language: The main barrier of integration into the Ugandan life. I’m trying my best to learn my local language, but it is made difficult with similar sounding words. This picture, taken straight from my language dictionary, should explain my frustration.

Thanksgiving
Although I would have loved to spend Thanksgiving at the ranch with my family, this year was exceptional. Thanks to the culinary expertise of a one Ms. C. Prouty, we had a feast that would make Paula Deen proud. Mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, gravy…all the necessities. The meal was concluded with a friendly game of duct tape baseball. The bat: a cardboard shipping tube. The ball: a wad of paper held together by loads of duct tape. First base: banana tree. Second base: avacado tree. Third base: an old tire. Good times all around with the best company anyone could ask for.

Harry Potter 7 part 1
I went to see the new Harry Potter at the theatre in Kampala. It was a little more than half full, and there were only 2 kids. The rest were eager adults, waiting to see what crazy thing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will do next. The movie was great, and I can’t wait for 7 part 2. I loved how when something scary/exciting would happen, you would hear “oh s**t!” echo throughout the theatre. Good thing there weren’t but 2 kids there.

Queso: an Experience
Thanksgiving weekend was topped off with a hefty helping of chips, queso, sour cream enchiladas, and a margarita. Oh queso, how I’ve missed you.

Another Mouse
I caught another mouse. Although this is the first one in my house, it is the 4th total in Uganda. How did I catch him, you ask? With non other, than duct tape. I simply laid a piece of duct tape on the ground, sticky side up, where I thought he would probably run. BINGO! 20 minutes later, he was mine.

To Rafiki: verb. to hold ones computer up over ones head in order to attain adequate internet service. Example, "Today, I pulled a Rafiki to get onto facebook". See, "To Simba".

Song Title and Artist

2010-11-24T00:56:00.002-06:00

In case the song mentioned in the previous post does not load, I am including the Song Title and Artist so that you can research it for yourselves.

Baby What About You
By: Crystal Gayle

Enjoy

Death By Repeat

2010-11-23T01:32:00.004-06:00

The Repeat Button.

Ugandans have no problem putting a song on repeat and leaving it that way all day long. Why? I don't know. This is a complete mystery.

I've learned that if I die while in the Peace Corps, it's not going to be at the hands of an angry mob, cattle rustlers, or getting hit by a boda boda. It's going to be from listening to the same song over and over and over and over and over again...and finally putting myself out of my misery.

Just so that my friends and family will know the suffering that eventually led to the sweet release of death, here is a link to the song that is played, on average, 60 times* a day.

Click Here for The Horror

Please, just listen to it once. Maybe twice, at most. I do not want to be responsible for anything horrendous, that is sure to happen upon multiple listens.

*actual times per day...for real

My New Umbrella

2010-11-18T01:31:00.004-06:00

I was in Mbarara the other day buying what I described to my coworkers as “very important Muzungu things” that I can’t get in the village (Nutella), when it started raining heavily. My umbrella had kicked the bucket three weeks prior, so I was in the market for a new one. Luckily, the little shop where I escaped the rain had some for sale. The store owner held up two and asked me if I wanted the blue one or the red one. I will always choose red last, so I overpaid for the blue one.
I wasn’t even out the door before I was opening it…and it wasn’t even opened all the way before I realized what I had, in fact, just purchased. It was not a solid blue umbrella, as I was led to believe. It was a red, white, blue, and black umbrella, with two pictures of Barak Obama’s face in the white portions, and “New Life” printed in the black portions.

I have used my new patriotic umbrella 3 times since purchase. Each time, I have been complimented on my very “smart” umbrella, and how great it is.

Ants, Eagles, and Amber

2010-11-12T08:31:00.008-06:00

Flying Ants

It’s 1:30 am.
I wake up to what sounds like a combination of rain, and a fly repeatedly hitting the wall. I investigate. It’s not raining, it’s just thousands of flying ants. Ants everywhere! Attracted by my porch light, they are ambushing the area, coming in under my door, and swarming my flashlight that I’m holding. I have a minor freak out when the first ant flies into my face.

Me: 0 Ants: 1

I hear muffled voices outside, so I ward off what was sure to be a panic attack to take a quick peak outside. There are 6 or 7 children on my porch, each equipped with a bucket, collecting the ants. I rationalize this by whispering to myself, “It’s normal. You’re in Africa”. I look around my house and there are flying ants everywhere. They are coming into the house from under the door in waves.

I make a decision.
I put my flashlight in the middle of my living room, wait until they are all lured out of my bedroom, stuff a towel under my front door, shut the door between my bedroom and living room, and go back to sleep. I’ve outsmarted them.

Me: 1 Ants: 1

It’s 7:00 am.
I wake up to the same sound as before, only on a slightly lesser scale. I carefully open the barrier door to the living room, armed with a book to swat the ants with the nerve to fly into my face. What I see are thousands of ant wings and ants crawling around everywhere. I peak outside, and the children are still at it. Same children.

I have a plan.
I throw open the front door. The children freeze, staring at the Muzungu dressed in her spandex capris, tank top, disheveled hair, and hurricane glasses, and wait for her to say something. I violently point inside and yell “ANTS!” This apparently was just the right combination of gesture and yelling in English to communicate my point. The kiddos sprint into my house and have all of the ants picked out and into their buckets in record speed. All that’s left for me to do is sweep up the remaining wings, as they seem to fall off, leaving the ants grounded, unable to fly into my face.

Me: 2 Ants: 1

So, I sweep up the wings. I sweep them all into a pile, stare at them and wonder how many ants it takes to make a pile this large, and then sweep them out my door. I shut my door, leaning against it and brushing my forehead in triumph.

Me: 3 Ants: 1

I wait inside for a while, checking every nook and cranny to make sure that I don’t have any friends lurking in corners. I finally lower the Ant Threat Level down to Yellow and decide to brave the outside world. Walking down the street, I’m waved over by my neighbors. They are cooking giant pans full of ants. I am offered ants by the handful, but say that I am going to the office and can’t take them with me. I go to the office.

After work, I am back at my house doing some very serious and very slow internet surfing, when a local comes in my house and hands me a very large plastic bag half full of something. He says it’s from the neighbors and leaves. I’m left holding up this bag, which, much to my chagrin, is full of fried ants. I figure that I have no excuse now not to eat them and that I would be rude not to try them, as they are sure to ask me how they were the next time I surfaced from my concrete lair.

So, I try the fried ants.

Me: 3 Ants: 2

They tasted like a combination of stale beef jerky and dog breath, leaning towards the latter.
An antenna got stuck in my teeth.

Me: 3 Ants: 3

I see a missed ant crawling across the floor, look at his friends in my hand, and take another bit.

Me: 4 Ants: 3

I win.

The Electrician

Although my house is wired for electricity, this does not mean that it is reliable. The light bulbs only work half the time, and the wall sockets do not work at all. My organizations new offices are in the same building as my house, so they are extremely adamant about having the power being completely functional by the time of the office switch. This means that the electrician is to come over to my house and fix everything that is wrong.

If only it were so easy.

The electrician, as I’ve recently discovered, can always be found at one of the local drinking establishments. He is always late, if he decides to show up at all. The first time he came over late, he told me that he knows electricity so well that he could even fix my house drunk. Then he touched an exposed wire and shocked himself. Luckily there was some alcohol in his system to ward off any permanent injury.

He was to come back the next day to finish the “work” that he had begun. I waited around my house for him all day reading a book, but he never showed. Nor did he show the next day. Or the next day.

My co-workers were getting frustrated, since his not showing up was delaying our office transfer. Finally, I see the electrician. He is trailing my co-worker, who is holding an Eagle Beer. They come into my house, the Eagle is given to the electrician, and he gets to work. It only took him about 45 minutes to fix everything in the house and to get it all up and running. I told him that it’s amazing how much he can accomplish once he has an Eagle Beer in his hand. He replies, by telling me that the Eagle Beer gives him the eye of an eagle (because he only has one eye), able to see very small things at long distance and with crystal clear accuracy; and that was how he was able to fix things so quickly. The eye of an Eagle (singular).

New Office
With the electricity a go, we transferred our things from the old office to the new office. Now it’s only a 3 second walk from my door as opposed to the excruciatingly long 2-minute walk I had before. Thank goodness for the convenient switch.

Dear Amber, a previous white mid-20’s female Peace Corps Volunteer:

I want to thank you for making quite an impression on the people and children of Kaberebere, Uganda. They just think the world of you and your name. Since my arrival, the children have continuously paid tribute to you by refusing to acknowledge that I am a completely different person, thus having a different name. Thanks for all that you’ve done.

Sincerely,
Jenny Everett, PCV
AKA: Amber

It's A Real Thing

2010-11-04T00:50:00.004-05:00

The best feature of my tiny house...hands down.

TIA: This Is Africa

2010-10-25T10:58:00.005-05:00

First things first:

GO RANGERS

moving on...

The past weeks Play-by-Play
I said goodbye to my host family and left my homestay. I went to Kampala where I hung out with friends, ate a chicken sandwich (mistake), drank an iced coffee, and saw the new Will Farrell and Marky Mark movie The Other Guys. It was pretty funny in a random “I can’t believe that just happened” sort of way. The night ended with everyone meeting at Casino Simba for some free drinks, free food, and some blackjack. I was mid double down when I thought to myself, “I’m going to vomit on the dealer”. I took this as a sign that I should probably cash out and run to the bathroom. Turns out, I had food poisoning. Again. For the 3rd time. Welcome to Africa. So after I rinsed my mouth out and splashed water on my face, I looked in the mirror at myself. I pondered:

“I can either stay here and puke in a flush toilet at the casino, or go to the hostel/hotel and puke in a communal toilet shared by an entire floor.”

A decision was made. I went back to the blackjack table to play until I had to run to the bathroom again, which, inevitably, I did. Two mad dashes and 50,000 UGX ($25) later, I decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel.

The next day we all congregated at the Peace Corps office in Kampala for a tour and to sign some papers. I went immediately to the Medical Office and described my sleepless, bathroom dashing night. I was immediately ushered to a bed and instructed to sleep and to drink orange Gatorade…two of my favorite things…which I did without question. When I awoke, I was given more orange Gatorade and a package from home. It was like Christmas morning, only my drink didn’t have champagne in it.

The following day we visited the US Embassy and met some Embassy employees who could help us if we ever get in a jam. We had a few hours to kill in the city, so it was back to Casino Simba for some early afternoon gambling…the best kind. I won back the 50,000 UGX I was down from 2 days before. Victory!

The next couple of days were spent in a workshop with my Site Supervisor and Counterpart. It was mostly boring.

Swearing in was magical. Our training class had two representatives who gave speeches during the ceremony. The first speech, given by Christy Proudy, emphasized the friendships we will make with our fellow volunteers and how important these relationships will be to us both here in Uganda and back home in the States. The second speech, given by Nick Duncan (who currently owes me 10,000 Shillings because the Rangers beat the Yankees), was the very same speech given in the movie Independence Day before they all fly off in jets to fight the aliens. Yes, the very same, only with a few key words being changed.

For example:

“Today is the day that we celebrate our Graduation Day”

All of the Muzungus were laughing hysterically, where the Ugandans just looked confused. The speeches were followed by all of the trainees standing, raising our right hands, and reciting our Peace Corps oath. Afterwards, meat was served. Meat! Good meat. On sticks. With special dipping sauces. Magical.

I departed the next day (the 22nd) for my site. When I arrived in Kaberebere with my counterpart, I discovered that my house wasn’t quite ready for me to move into. When taken to the house to see, I had to step over tools and men sleeping on the floor inside. The workers were tired, apparently, and taking naps. They are (when awake) redoing a door, re-cementing the floors, building a pit latrine, and painting the walls. I should be able to hopefully move in by the end of this week, but who knows. TIA. Until I can move into my house, I’m just kind of playing everything by ear.
So, here I am finally at my site. It’s going to be an exciting, interesting, scary, frustrating, fun, different, and life changing 2 years.

Fun things to ponder:
Why do children wear shirts with no pants, and not vice versa?
Why do people sell shoes, but none that match?
Why isn’t there a Runyankore word for Please?

GO RANGERS

My Site, Mag-Lite, and Casino Night

2010-10-10T12:25:00.007-05:00

New Address:
Jenny Everett
PO Box 835
Mbarara, Uganda

Two mice, one stone (or Mag-Lite)
My mouse tally has now gone up by two, making it a total of 3. I have said previously that the only form of a mousetrap that I can find here is the non-lethal glue. Well, what they don’t tell you, in the Arabic directions, is that it spreads. When you squeeze it from the tube onto your piece of paper/cardboard, it spreads. Needless to say, I discovered that the sticky glue had spread off the sides of my paper after disposing of mouse #1, leaving a giant ocean of sticky glue on the concrete floor in my room. I had avoided cleaning it up, because I would have to buy alcohol to un-stickify (technical PC term, you wouldn’t understand) it. I awoke the other night at 3:15 in the morning to some rustling. I peered in the direction of noise, which happen to be the same direction as the sticky glue spot on the floor. Not one, but two mice were stuck in it, trying to break free. I had an initial cry of victory, but soon realized that I had two mice stuck to my floor…not on anything I could pick up and throw away, but on my floor. I took about 5 minutes to assess the situation while shining my Mag-Lite flashlight on the soon-to-be casualties. I had an idea. I slowly looked from the mice to my Mag-Lite…from the mice to the Mag-Lite. Could I?...I thought to myself? I knew what had to be done.
10 minutes and 2 lives later, I went back to sleep.

My Site Assignment...Finally
District: Isingiro

Town: Kaberebere

Organization Name: Rural Health Promotion and Poverty Alleviation Initiative (RUHEPAI)

Vision: A Community equipped with skills and knowledge in which women and youths have opportunities to work their way out of poverty, respond to disease prevention approaches, and participate in environmental protection, water, and sanitation programs.

Mission: To advocate for improved health and poverty alleviation initiatives geared towards bettering peoples livelihoods through their own participation.

Goal: To advocate for a healthier community that improves quality of live, has a clean environment, and is capable of participating in poverty alleviation initiatives.

Objectives:
1. To promote capacity building of women and youths self help groups for collective bargaining and poverty eradication strategies at grass roots.
2. To carry out health outreach programs through sensitization, awareness creation, campaigns, and other possible strategies in HIV/AIDS/STI’s, agriculture, water, hygiene, and sanitation
3. To enhance strategies for creating a clean and healthy environment in the community through awareness and conservation.
4. To conduct research and documentation of environmental issues, health, and social economic aspects of development

Proposed Job Description:

Develop sustainable approaches, systems, and structures for program implementation
Resource Mobilization

The organization has two offices. The one where I am going to be is the office that deals mostly in agriculture. They work with farmers, bringing them together to work as a group. They provide skills workshops and consulting. I’m not totally sure yet what my actual role will be in the organization, but I’m excited to find out. Where my background lies in Cattle/Ranch management, I’ll be learning about how to grow bananas, passion fruit, and pineapple in a climate that allows for things to grow year round.

Fact: Neither pineapple or passion fruit grow on trees. I just found this out. I feel like elementary school failed me.

The Only Place That Matters
I was in Kampala this weekend perusing a craft market with a friend looking for the perfect Ugandan over the shoulder bag. I was mid haggle, when I heard English being spoken nearby. My ears perked up, not at the English, but at the accent. I immediately looked around and pinpointed the source. The man who had spoken was walking in my direction. As he passed, I made my move.

“Excuse me, Sir. Where are you from?” I asked.
“The only place in America that matters”, he boldly replies.
“Texas!”, I exclaim matter of factly.
“Yep.”

We then high fived and talked about the only place in America that matters. He and his wife are from Lubbock and are on a mission trip for a few weeks. Turns out, we know some of the same people. Small world. I was later informed that my accent became super thick while talking to my new friend, Mr. Coggins.

I have discovered Casino Simba in Kampala.
Free drinks. Free food. Enough said.

It's Really All About The Math...and Food

2010-09-29T11:47:00.004-05:00

Instructions: Solve for X, where X = Feet

(X + Bucket bath ) + Uganda2 = Uganda Bucket bath + Uganda Nasty
-------------------
Uganda

Bucket Heaving Part II
I had food poisoning again, but I’m used to throwing up in a bucket/in the yard, so it wasn’t too bad…but still not fun at night in a house without indoor plumbing and doors that lock with padlocks so you can’t go outside in the night. Interesting….very interesting.

RIP Ralph
Ralph is no longer with us. I will remember fondly my frenemy of days gone by….just as I will remember the elation I felt as I tossed him down the pit latrine in a fit of victory!

But alas!!!

Ralph has a cousin. I am now visited by my new friend Marty. Marty needs to go, too. There are probably more mice, but at least I am 1 down….who knows how many to go. I wonder if the Peace Corps could reimburse me the expense of having to buy Atarat, the tube of non-lethal mouse glue. I’ll have to buy more this week, if Marty doesn’t hurry up and take the bait.

The VP
Today, I met the Vice President of Uganda. I also got locked in a bathroom at his house. It’s exactly as it sounds. I was locked…in a bathroom…..at the Vice President of Uganda’s…house. Good times.

Meals Revolutionized
My meals have been revolutionized due to the wonderful street food called, The Rolex. The Rolex is a chapatti (tortilla-like amazingness) with egg, tomato, and shredded green cabbage. Two eggs are cooked to be the approximate size of the chapatti. It is then placed on the chapatti, the tomato is sliced and placed in the middle, the shredded cabbage is sprinkled on the top, salt is added, and then it is rolled up. I have at least one a day. I’ve made friends with the two guys who run the stand, Freddie and High Tower. I get the freshest chapattis because I’m a regular customer.

I suggest that everyone try this at home…stat.

Answer:
Feet = Nasty

Bed Bugs, Bees, and Bad Dreams

2010-09-22T03:33:00.004-05:00

Ralph: not, in fact, a lizard
So, there has been this rustling sound in my room that I have, for the past 5 weeks, been attributing to a giant lizard that I happened to see scurrying under my door one day. I had become used to the sound waking me up a couple of times during the night, as I heard the pitter patter of little feet crawling across my bedroom curtains. The other day, I awoke and decided to carpe diem, and threw open my curtains to let in the equatorial sun. Much to my surprise, I was greeted by a little mouse resting in the top nook of the drapes.

Ralph the mouse: not a lizard.

Aghast, I jump back and recalled the fond five weeks that I’ve spent thinking there was just a lizard in my room. This discovery has left me befuddled. Should I let Ralph continue to inhabit my curtains and belongings for the 5 weeks I have left in training, or should Ralph be a victim of a non-lethal mousetrap (because that’s all that’s available at my grocery store)? I woke up in the middle of the night last night to scurrying and watched Ralph crawl around my room, from behind my mosquito net, for about five minutes. Ralph needs to go.

Bees! Bees Everywhere!
Last week, I traveled to Bushenyi with a fellow PC trainee to shadow a current Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). The point was to see what it’s like in the shoes of a real life volunteer. This PCV works with bee farmers and a company called Bushenyi Honey. They sell the best honey in Uganda. I got to see the business in action! I attended a board of directors meeting (not in English), bottled just shy of 1,000 jars of honey, and worked in a room…full of thousands of buzzing bees! I kept thinking of the part in Tommy Boy, where Chris Farley jumps out of the car yelling,

“Bees! Bees everywhere! Save yourself…don’t be a hero!”

When it came time for us to return to Wakiso via Kampala, we were not looking forward to the 7-hour ride on a jam-packed bus. Eating dinner the night before our departure, we met a nice Japanese girl who worked for the Japanese Embassy in Kampala. Turns out, she was going back to Kampala the same time we were…but she had a car…and a driver. So, instead of a 7-hour trip on a cramped bus, we hooked a ride with the Japanese Embassy and made it back to Kampala in 5 hours. Score!

PS – I saw a wild zebra on the side of the road outside of Mbarara. Pretty cool.

I had a cheeseburger in Kampala. It was glorious.

Bed Bugs
Bugs. In my bed. 50 + bites over my body. Not fun.
My room was sprayed, mattress aired in the sun, and all of my sheets/clothes washed. I am once again bed bug free…for now.
That’s all I have to say about that.

Night Terrors: Just Another Side Effect
My malaria medicine has some super duper side effects. These include, but are not limited to the following: stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, headache, insomnia, vivid dreams, night terrors, dizziness, hallucinations, confusion, and psychotic episodes.

Awesome.

So far, I have only had one night terror. I jumped out of bed all of a sudden, convinced that something had stung me. I spent the next 30 minutes inspecting my body for evidence of the sting with my headlamp. It took me 45 minutes to realize that it was a dream.
The more that I take this medicine (Mefloquine), the less I sleep and the more vivid dreams I have each night. I should probably get my meds switched, but I’m curious as to what my psychotic episode will be like.

Sugarcane
I had sugarcane for the first time! My host mom bought a giant stick of it for the kids and I to have. You cut the outside stalk part off, and then chew on the inside. It’s watery, spongy, and sweet. After you chew on it and get all the good juice out, you spit out the remainder. Messy, but good.

Job: Complain much?
I am so glad that the book of Job is over in my “Bible in 1 Year” study. That’s all.

From Bucket Heaving to Bible Reading

2010-09-06T12:55:00.003-05:00

FOOD POISONING PROVES TO BE EXTRA SPECIAL WITHOUT WESTERN AMENITIES
I have officially had my first bout of illness in Uganda. I have also officially vomited into a bucket, as well as a 5” X 7” hole in the ground, with pinpoint precision and accuracy. It’s just another skill to add onto the good ‘ole resume. The Peace Corps Medical Officer moved me from my home stay to our training facility, so that I could have a regular bathroom in my heaving glory. Too bad the worst was over by the time I got there…but it was nice to have it nonetheless. The drive to the training facility was like an episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. When we got there, I felt like I should scarf a can of cat food, huff some glue, and pass out. I would have, but I was too busy walking down the hall AND puking in a bucket while the innkeeper showed me to my room.

MYSTERY MEAT: NOT MEAT AT ALL
Twice at my home stay we have had a dish(?) that had something in it that I knew not what it was. It looked like meat, yet it also looked reminiscent of some sort of sea creature that I wouldn’t touch with a 39 ½ inch pole. I avoided it both times, pretending that the encounter never happened. It wasn’t until this week as I was walking through the market, that I saw something sprawled out on a slab waiting to be chopped up and sold. I knew instantly that this was the mystery meat…yet it was not meat at all. It, as I found out after some regretful questioning, is cow stomach. This gives “stew surprise” a whole new meaning.

Question: How many Muzungus and their backpacks can fit into a Peace Corps Range Rover?
Answer: 12, with room for a couple more people and at least 1 goat

TRAINING FOR ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT
I found out that the woman who conducted my Economic Development interview was in the movie The Last King of Scotland as the Medical Officer who replaces the one who was killed. I thought she looked familiar…

Training for Econ Dev is going good so far. Everything that we have talked about and been taught about business and development, I already learned in TCU Ranch Management School. After going through the RM program and being extremely detailed in everything, I find myself critiquing the presentations and thinking, “That wasn’t done very well”, or, “Nope, that’s wrong”. I feel bad about being hard on these presentations, but I am also pretty pleased with myself that I know enough about the topic to be able to point out discrepancies (but not to their face, of course).

Thank you, Ranch Management, for creating an organized and detail-oriented monster.

KNOW WHAT IT'S TIME FOR?
Walking back to my home stay from a nice little joint called “New Friends”, I saw my home stay sister and brother outside of a salon. They were waiting on Fiona, the house girl, who was inside getting a haircut (buzz cut). I stuck around to walk back home with them and catch up on their activities for the day. Fiona, who speaks zero English, motions for us to stop at a photo shop on the way back. They all walk in and stare at me. The photographer waves me in. Apparently, I’m supposed to be a part of this photo shoot. I’m wearing a Texas Rangers baseball cap at the moment, along with my last clean shirt and last clean skirt.

They don’t match.

I protest, but this gets me nowhere, as I am the only one who can really understand what I’m saying. Finally, after much hand gesturing on their part, I join the picture. I squeeze past the desk and into the shop, which I now see has a forest backdrop. I take off my cap, make sure that my hair is matted down on my head just so, and awkwardly smile into the camera.

I hope to one day see this picture in an oval frame hanging on the wall.

DOVE DAY: WOODSON
This is the first year, which I can remember, that I have not gone and spent Labor Day weekend in Woodson, Texas. It doesn’t even feel like it should be September, because I haven’t kicked it off with a bang (literally) or sustained a minor injury from a cutthroat Spoons tournament. I hope that everyone had a good time and ate tons of food for me. I love you all!

BIBLE IN A YEAR KICKOFF
I have started my “bible in a year” readings. So far, so good.

Question: Is the tree of life still guarded?
Read Genesis 3:24 and get back to me.

I have really taken for granted being around people with the same beliefs as myself. It really is a gift.

Muzungu in the Mist

2010-08-28T15:01:00.006-05:00

So, I’m in Uganda!
I traveled from Abilene, to Dallas, to Philadelphia, to New York, to Johannesburg, to Entebbe, to Lweza, to Wakiso….and BAM! Here I am at training.

We all met in Philadelphia, and then traveled into Uganda as a group. Meeting and getting to know everyone in my training class has been wonderful. Our class is full of amazing people of all different backgrounds, professions, and ages, yet we are all similar. There are two other Texans! Woo Hoo!
I couldn’t possibly try to write everything that’s happened since I’ve been in country, so I’ll hit the highlights:

MONKEYS
Our first day in Uganda, we saw monkeys. They were like squirrels, always climbing, running, and swinging around the Lweza training center.

KAMPALA
Besides feeling like I was going to vomit into my purse on the way to Uganda’s capital city, Kampala was great. My stomach was in the process of “adjusting” to Ugandan food, and the bumpy taxi van/clown car didn’t help much. After arriving, I chugged a bunch of water and was A-OK. We walked around the city to familiarize ourselves with certain locations that we’re going to need to access in the future. We were also instructed to buy some necessities for life in Uganda. Among these were a cell phone ($30) and a poop bucket for nighttime emergencies, which I will describe in detail later. The traffic in Kampala, and Uganda in general, is absolutely crazy. There are no stoplights and very few stop signs. Cars, taxis, and boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) drive wherever they want and whenever they want. Plus, it really helps that they are all traveling down the left side of the road. It’s hard to get used to watching for traffic on the other side of the road. I’m pretty sure that if I am ever seriously injured during my service, it will be because I am hit by a boda boda on the street.

SING SONG
I heard a school group singing a song in English, and this is how it went:
When I wash my face, I think about the Lord.
When I wash my face, I think about the Lord.
When I brush my teeth, I think about the Lord.
When I brush my teeth, I think about the Lord.
I catch myself singing it every once in a while.

LANGUAGE
The language that I am learning is Runyankore/Rukiga (run-yawn-core-A/roo-cheega). It is spoken in the South West part of Uganda. This gives me an idea as to where my site assignment will be. It is a little bit like Luganda, the local language around Kampala. Tons of people speak English in Uganda, so between their English and my beginner Rukiga, I should be able to communicate the basics. My Homestay mother speaks the language I am learning, so that is a big help. She is going to help me learn her language, and I’m going to help her learn Spanish.

HOMESTAY FAMILY
I love my homestay family. My mom is Anna Lewemba, who has 3 kids: Lulu (6), Jojo (4), and Gina (2). Anna’s husband works in a different city, so I haven’t met him yet. She works in Kampala a few days a week as a social work trainer. Her top 3 favorite movies are, in order:

1. Coming to America
2. Titanic
3. Pretty Woman

I started laughing after I heard the first one and had to ask her to repeat the last two.
They are a really nice Christian family. I found out yesterday that she requested a Christian volunteer. Little did she know that I requested a Christian host family. It couldn’t have worked out better.

The house does have electricity, but is only used to power the television and a small light in the hallway. The kids watch a movie every night during dinner. Most of the time, it is the Sound of Music. I’ve seen it 4 times this week. There is no indoor plumbing. Drinking water comes from a tap outside in the yard and is boiled before consumption.

BATHROOM AND BATHING SITUATION
Baths are taken out of a bucket outside in a little designated “bathing area” behind a wall that hits me mid chest. I duck a lot during my bucket baths. The bathroom is outside and is a “pit latrine”. It is basically a 5” X 7” hole in the ground. Aim is extremely important. I’m really going to have to warm up to the idea that I am going to be having “stomach trouble” into a 5” X 7” hole in the ground, at which I am going to have to squat and aim.

If I should need to get up in the night to go to the bathroom, I am to go in my “poop bucket” that I bought in Kampala. You don’t go outside in the night to the pit latrine because, according to mama Anna, that’s when the mosquitoes and thieves come out. I have, in fact, broken in the bucket. I woke up and had to empty my bladder in the middle of the night…twice. By the second time, I was a pro. Gross, but do-able.

FOOD
The food is good. It takes some getting used to, but it is pretty good. There are tons of starches to choose from: sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, rice, matoke, beans, posho, and macaroni, just to name a few. Matoke is the only thing that I cannot eat. It is, in my opinion, absolutely disgusting. Matoke, if I am correct, is steam cooked, mushed up plantains. Ugandans love it. I do not. Fear Factor could probably use it in an episode.

Fear Factor: The Matoke Challenge

Besides starches, there is sometimes a vegetable served, and also a broth with chunks of meat in it every once in a while that you pour over all of your starches. They also have a g-nut* sauce that they pour over all of their starches as well. There is a lot of fruit, which I love. Pineapple, cantaloupe, tangerines, passion fruit, jack fruit, avacado (fruit?), watermelon, papaya, and bananas are everywhere.

*G-nut = ground nut = peanut

TOOTH FAIRY…OR THE TOOTH RAT
I learned what happens when a kid in Uganda loses his/her tooth. My host mom, Anna, told me that they have “The Rat” that comes for teeth in the night. When you lose a tooth, you place it in the spot where the rats most frequent. Then, in the night, the rat comes and leaves you some little presents for the tooth. I was shown where the rats are seen in the house, thus where they place teeth when the kids pull them.

Anna also told me that when she was little and lost a tooth, you had to go find a special kind of bird and let it walk between your legs. As it was walking through your legs, you gave it the tooth and said, “Take this bad tooth, and bring me a good one”. If you didn’t say these exact words to the bird, your tooth wouldn’t grow back.

Good times.

TRAINING
Training is going well so far. We have cross cultural, language, safety, medical, and project training. Training begins at 8 am every day, and goes until 5 pm. It takes me about an hour to walk to our training site from my homestay, or about 35 minutes if I bike it. I usually leave my house at 7 am. It is a really pretty walk and/or bike ride. You can bike/walk down the roads, which are extremely bumpy, or you can walk the shortcut. The shortcut takes you through the countryside, down tiny trails, and through some pasture. It’s a very fun walk.

ON A DIFFERENT NOTE
I’ve found that it is so much easier to maintain my relationship with God while I am here than I thought it would be. I thought that it would be such a challenge to find time with Him in my busy training schedule, but that is not the case. It is so easy, easier than it was for me in the states, to spend quiet time in the word. I read my daily devotions every morning (thank you Michele) with a flashlight under my mosquito net, and am constantly reminded of what I read throughout the day. Each devotion seems tailored to something that I am going through or will have to deal with on that particular day. It is so neat how He works.

There are lots of highs and lows with being in the Peace Corps. You can be completely excited about your project and eager to get started, and then 5 minutes later feel so discouraged. It is a process that we get through together by voicing our concerns to each other as a training group. Knowing that everyone is going through the same things as you really helps boost confidence and morale. When I take my concerns to the Lord in prayer, I can feel them later melting away.

On September 1st, I am starting a “Read the Bible in one Year” study. The particular study that I am doing is a New International Version, in chronological order. This is something that my parents and I are going to do together to stay connected. So, if anyone would like to start with my parents and me and read the bible in a year in chronological order, please feel free. The more the merrier. You can probably buy a copy at Lifeway, Mendel’s (I got mine at Mendel’s), or from Amazon.com.

Until next time…
Musiibe gye!

Snip Snip

2010-08-06T23:48:00.006-05:00

20 minutes and 7 inches later, my hair is ready for Uganda.

In anticipation of bucket showers, limited availability to stores, and no electricity, I got a haircut. There was a brief moment when I considered going GI Jane, but a mental image and quick shudder instantly shot that idea right in the face.

I believe that I'll use the money I save on shampoo to buy myself something really special...like Imodium.

2 Years In 2 Bags

2010-08-06T00:06:00.004-05:00

Deciding what to take with me for 2 years and what to leave behind is the easy part. Arranging and packing into bags the things I'll take is another story. Weight and size restrictions really add a little something special to the whole packing experience. I've managed to get everything I want to take into two bags, and plan to buy more clothes and necessities in country. Despite accusations of not packing enough and being wildly unprepared (mom), I feel confident that I have what I need to get by until I get the lay of the land and am able to purchase "blending in" clothes.

...and if I forget something, so what? Somebody can mail it to me.

A Taste of My Peace Corps Assignment

2010-07-11T17:15:00.003-05:00

For anyone wondering what the heck it is that I am going to be doing in Africa for the Peace Corps, here is a little tid bit of what I know. I won't find out for sure what it is that I will be doing, but this is the semi-vague overview of the assignment that was given to me.

Country: Uganda
Program: Community Health and Economic Development (CHED)
Job Title: Economic Development Volunteer

I have been invited to serve as an Economic Development Volunteer in Uganda. As part of the CHED project, I will work with partner organizations in a community to improve the health and livelihoods of the Ugandan people and to lessen the impact of HIV/AIDS. The project seeks to assist in promoting better health and economic conditions , including income-generating activities and alternate livelihoods; increased community access to potable water; improved hygiene and sanitation; improved maternal and child health; youth development; HIV/AIDS prevention; and providing care and support to orphans and vulnerable children.

When approached with the possibility of working on this project, I was told that my skills were such that I would be going in under "Agribusiness". I assume that my endeavors will be to help the economic conditions agriculturally, through more efficient and sustainable practices and applications.

My original nomination was for "animal husbandry and applied agriculture". I hope that I will get the chance to work with animal production as well as with forage production.

Application to Invitation Breakdown

2010-07-09T22:21:00.002-05:00

March 2009 - Submit Application
May 2009 - Submit supplemental materials packet, including skills addendums, references, fingerprints, and essays.
June 2009 - Packet lost
July 2009 - Frustration
September 2009 - Packet found
October 2009 - Relief
January 21, 2010 - Interview
January 26, 2010 - Nomination to Africa for November 2010 departure
February 2010 - Medical Packet Received
March 5, 2010 - Submit Medical Packet
March 16, 2010 - Clear Dental
March 31, 2010 - Clear Medical
April 2010 - Excitement
May 2010 - Anticipation
June 30, 2010 - Receive Invitation to serve in Uganda, departing August 3rd, 2010
July 2, 2010 - Accept Invitation to serve in Uganda

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