Days 17 & 18: Ugandan History & Back in the USA

Sorry for the delayed final journal entry, I wrote it and completely forgot to send it! Since writing this two weeks ago, I have felt ever-increasing gratitude to my father for making this trip a reality. Thank you, Dad, for giving me the opportunity to serve as a volunteer for AAH, travel to a new continent and experience an incredible new culture, and spending 18 awesome days with me. This was one of the greatest gifts I've ever received and the timing was absolutely perfect in my life. Friday 2/13/15 Feeling better! Dad and I had a good breakfast and checked out of the hotel, hopping right back into Isaac and Geoffrey's van - for a closer look at Kampala culture and Ugandan history. We first drove to a nearby market area and hiked the urban jungle - dodging boda-bodas and busses - to visit some haphazard shops, including a music store for dad to buy a CD of his favorite new Ugandan gospel vocalist. We walked around a bit, taking in the markets and busy streets. We brought a few little gifts and trinkets, but mostly staved off hungry shop owners who were hustling us hard. Issac had mentioned to us that he wanted us to take a tour of the King's Palace, which sounded a little fancy and boring to me, but when we got there I realized we were in for a very unusual experience. The Palace used to be the residence of the King of Buganda, back when Uganda was divided in kingdoms ruled by Kings and districts ruled by clan chiefs. The politics were very complex and hard to wrap my brain around. It turns out that Idi Amin had staged a coup right here at this palace and it was the site of some very violent socio-political history. We heard about murders and military training, makeshift prisons and torture chambers, and details about over 200,000 people who were killed during Amin's reign of terror, most of whom were academics, Indians, and peripheral political enemies. The tour guide walked us around the grounds and spoke about the dates and the different ways the Palace was used over the years. His stories were extremely educational and disturbing, but none was more upsetting than our final stop: the secret underground bunker hidden in the grassy hill behind the palace, featuring five connected torture chambers that were about 20'x30' each. The soldiers crammed every concrete chamber with around 100 people each and over ten years, countless thousands of people were murdered there, suffocated, starved, and deprived of light, food, and water. The main hallway connecting the rooms was filled with electrified water and when prisoners would die in the chambers, they would just throw the bodies into the water. Regularly, the soldiers would remove a batch of corpses and dump them in Lake Victoria. Standing in these chambers, briny goosebumps raced up my arms and I like seasick. After the Palace, we visited the Museum of Uganda, which was sweet and quaint - and ancient in its curation. There were lots of centuries-old artifacts from early tribes: instruments, weapons, tools, pottery... I'll be honest, I got a little sleepy. We drove through the unbelievably slow traffic to the airport early enough to have one last great dinner with Isaac and Geoffrey outside at a restaurant overlooking the beautiful Lake Victoria. There is a bliss that comes with traveling, seeing new sights, learning different ways, steeping yourself in other cultures, stripping away your routine. I had a great last day in Uganda and am so excited to get back and show you all the videos and photos of the trip! I'll email you when I've re-worked these emails into blogs - with pictures! Two long but painless flights back and I'm now in NYC for a few quick days before the next chapter in my little 2015 Adventure - a week with mom at her home in Naples, FL!

Day 16: Over the Hills and Through the Savannah

I can't believe this trip is almost over! It has been so incredible to spend so much quality time with my dad. It was another early morning today after a really great night of sleep. We checked out of the lodge and drove through the north side of the park on out we back to Kampala and saw lots more animals, including two fresh carcasses of a Cape buffalo and a Ugandan kob. We caught glimpses of elephants, giraffes, hartebeests, kob, antelope, buffalo, warthogs, baboons, and tons of birds. We rode today without the aide of a ranger and rifle. Isaac took good care of us. He really has been the perfect guide. He planned a fantastic itinerary to fit our needs and was so nice to spend time with. He's super intelligent and a great conversationalist; the man is saavy, diplomatic, and polite. Once we sadly left the gates of the park, drove over lots of rolling hills with expansive views, the horizon dotted with trees and lots of new, bright green grass. I napped a bit in the car. Even though I stopped taking the Maldarone, the medication which was probably making me sick, I was still nauseous and out of it. I perked up a bit after lunch. And by lunch I mean white basmati rice, toast, and a bottle of water. In the words of my friend Andrea when she was on the tail end of a debilitating pregnancy, I can't wait to want a salad again. I apologize to all women for that last comment, my one week of illness can not compare to pregnancy. As we finally approached the suburbs of Kampala, we hit a little traffic which turned to be some kind of incident which we never exactly deciphered, but saw the result of: a limp, bloodied shirtless man gasping for breath laying on the side of the road next to a bloody brick. We didn't see the attack, but saw people running away, some onto motorcycles, some by foot. Isaac hypothesized that there was a fight, perhaps he was a thief and there was some vigilante justice? It was pretty disturbing, regardless the cause. When we got to the Speke Hotel, our little bastion of the olde Colonial in the centre of Uganda, Dad and I had a spot of tea, relaxed, and laid low for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning we check out and go sightseeing with Isaac and Geoffrey around Kampala before our late evening flight out of Entebbe. Our last day! I can not believe we'll be coming back to the States to bitter, freezing, wintery cold! Still nauseous, but relaxed, warm, and tan,

Day 15: Safari Day

This morning's four and a half hour safari through Murchison Falls National Park was excellent! We left early in the morning with a ranger from the Uganda Wildlife Association (UWA) named Taban, who escorting us through the safari with a serious rifle. As we started out, he outlined the basics of the massive park: 3,900 square kilometers, 76 species of animals, 450 species of birds, reasons for patterns of erosion and gulleys, the best times of year to see different wildlife... As we drove across the open, hilly savannah, I noticed that the fields here were also mostly burnt. Burning is necessary to clear the brush and make way for the new grass. There was a lot of new growth in the park, little seedlings poking their heads, watered only by the nightly see. Apparently it briefly sprinkled at 1am, so it will soon by rainy season. One of the first animals we saw was a Jackson's Hartebeest, which is a cross between deer and a horse, with some antelope and prehistoric goat mixed in. They have beautiful curled horns and long, thin faces, with an air of regal strength. We began to see other animals peacefully grazing... waterbucks, warthogs, Abyssinian ground hunters, and several gigantic Cape Buffalo. Taban explained the symbiotic relationship between the buffalo and the little black piu-piu birds that sit on their backs. The buffalo are a great place to find food for the birds, which eat flies and ticks off of the animals and also have much better eyesight, so they are able to warn them of danger. Win win. Dad and I captured a couple good shots, but it seems like every time we stop to take a photo, the animals all turn to walk away, so we have lots of photo of their rumps. I decided to take photos when they would be exceptional, but really try to keep the camera down so I could relish the moments near the animals without a device between us. We saw so many more animals: elephants, giraffes, monkeys, antelopes, oribi, squirrels, colorful birds, not so colorful vultures, dragonflies, butterflies ... As we searched through the brush to determine if there were animals hidden behind shrubs or trees, it was often hard to tell what were termite mounds or animals. As we neared "the game", they either trotted away or looked up from their grass to stare at us. The Park was filled with tons of Ugandan kob, which are a lot like American deer with long, curled horns like Maleficent. We saw more kob than any other species, they were everywhere! They travelled in small packs and were gently alert, gracefully bouncing as they ran away from our safari van. Haban pointed out a kob carcass hanging from a tree branch where, most likely, a leopard had dragged it to feast. The Nile was parallel to us in the distance as we drove and several small herds of 3-10 elephants slowly were making their way to the water. Haban told us that there are approximately 14,500 elephants in the whole park. He spoke about each animal in terms of their strengths and weaknesses, what they eat and who eats them, how they mate, how many they keep in their herds, their level of territorialism. In the back of my mind, I realized I categorize people in a similar way. The African savannah has so much depth and breadth. An alarming number of animals coexist and their ecosystem is a beautiful microcosm that speaks to the broader planet as a whole... It was nice to back up and take a fresh look at a completely different way of living. I am reminded that we are all surviving. I am very grateful for our fantastic driver Geoffrey, who manned the vehicle with diligence, expertly handling the rough terrain with focus and ease. Not easy! My favorite part of the safari was driving around standing up in the car, inhaling the smells of the savannah and looking out in awe at the great expanse of rich wildlife and quiet nothingness that I had never taken in before. This is what getting some space in your head means, I thought, experiencing the greatness of nature and not thinking about anything else. We had lunch at Paraa Lodge and then waited for boat cruise up the Nile to the base of the falls. While we waited we took some photos of local baboons and warthogs who hang down at the ferry dock. Which is just normal here, apparently. There were two mom baboons nursing and it made me miss my mommy co-workers at Rock of Ages. (Normalize Breast-Feeding!) The daddy baboon was a bit scary though, charging women to try and steal their bags and jumping on cars trying to break into their windows. We enjoyed watching one of his kids poop on a car hood. Bet that kind of bedlam doesn't happen in American National Parks! The boat cruise was also operated by UWA. We chugged slowly against the current two hours to near the base of Murchison Falls and quickly returned in one hour. The boat steered us very close to the shore so we could see Nile crocodiles on the riverbed sunning, some with their shiny sharp-toothed jaws agape. We saw a zillion hippopotamuses (hippopotami?) sleeping in the bright green deltas off of Lake Albert wetlands area of Nile, their snouts and backs slyly peeking out of the water, defying their enormousness. Elephants calmly bathed and snakebirds eyed us as we floated by. I was feeling really crappy as we approached the falls and slept most of the way back to the dock. As I discussed my symptoms with Isaac (nausea, diarrhea, weakness, and general fatigue), he pointed out that it's possible that I could be reacting to the malaria medication that I'm on. Bingo! Finally it all made sense. I went to the clinic at the lodge and Betty the Sassy Older Nurse gave me doxycycline, an alternate malaria medication that will hopefully agree with me better. I just ate yet another meal of simple foods (rice, potatoes, and bread) and I'm going to bed now at 8:30pm. I need to get a solid night of sleep.

Day 14: Murchison Falls

One of my objectives for taking time off from work this entire winter/spring was to make space in my head and heart. Today I began to feel myself expanding. Dad and I left the Speke Hotel in Kampala after a nice, quick breakfast and headed north with our tour guide Isaac Otim and driver Geoffrey to go stay at Murchison Falls, the largest National Park in Uganda. We passed through the northern Kampala suburbs, then through some familiar terrain similar to the roadside landscape we saw on the way to Bududa in the East. The road was far nicer and smoother though, and there were virtually no cars in sight. After two hours of driving, the vegetation began to shift and it was much less green and more coarse, dry, and empty. Isaac explained to us that this central area of Uganda relies heavily on cattle for their income (meat and milk), whereas the Kampala and eastern areas are economically more plant and crop-based. Instead of seeing bustling fruit and vegetable markets at every trading centre we drove through, there were ghost towns and a few butcher shops. Folks up here are herdsman, he explained. And indeed we passed lots of cattle, with extremely long horns, much more imposing than any we have in the States. The climate is seriously dry and much hotter, but the view reminded me of Texas or Florida. There were stretches of land that locals had carefully burned to clear the way for new grass. In fact, most everywhere you turned, the fields were scorched black to a crisp. While I'm sitting here staring out at nothing, I'll share some other little Ugandan Factoids I've discovered: - Uganda was under British Colonial rule from around 1897 to 1962. - The traditional greeting between peers is a handshake that alternates between a regular handshake, an upright thumb grasp, and a handshake again. It can go on and on like this. It's very Harlem. - Fist bumps here come with vocals: "Bonga," they say! - Ugandans build homes bit by bit, as they acquire the money, especially in areas where there are no banks. Your house is your investment. Here's how a traditional Ugandan house is built: When you can, you buy some bricks and begin laying out your home. Or if you don't have enough for bricks, you create a foundation and skeletal walls out of sticks and timber. That may sit there for a while until you have the time and resources to fill in red clay mud between the sticks. Then you add an iron sheet roof when you have the funds. Then you coat the walls of the home, inside and out, with cow dung because it holds strong in the rains and has a smooth finish. We turned off onto a dusty, dirt road as may made our way up towards the park. The air was thick with the kind of dust that reduces visibility significantly to almost impenetrable levels, as we saw on the road to Bumwalukani, and even with the windows closed I could taste it in my mouth and feel the film on my hands. In this area we saw far fewer trees and the hot sun openly beat down on the cracked clay. This land seems almost uninhabitable. Dead corn fields alternated with single little brick shacks, spaced far apart from one another. There were broken-down abandoned churches every now and then. We zoomed past a statuesque black hornbill standing guard over several desolate, crispy acres. After spotting a few cement/brick homes with mud huts right next to each of them, we asked why that seemed to be a pattern. Isaac and Geoffrey explained that the round mud huts with thatched grass roofs are much cooler now during the dry season, so families will sleep in them until the rainy season, when it's colder and the grass roofs are more porous. Isaac chatted with us about Ugandan politics and Dad and I have some really great conversations about philosophy, and Christianity, to name a few. After five hours of driving we finally reached the entrance to Murchison Falls National Park. We paid for our park permit and drove an hour through a canopy tunnel on another bumpy dirt road, squinting through the chalky air to catch sight of some wildlife. Right away we saw two olive baboons cross the road in front of us with their red butts peeking out behind them. Several Kingfishers (brightly colored birds with yellow beaks and bright blue tails) also zoomed across the path as we drove, as well as three more baboons and two warthogs in the brush off the rocky, sandy road. I noticed several gigantic termite mounds that looked like ornate drip-sand castles. We continued playing the lookout game for the next hour and finally saw a few antelope through the distant brush. Did you know antelope here are actually really, really small? Finally we reached the Upper Murchison Falls where the Nile River squeezes itself powerfully through a narrow 20 foot opening before plunging below. It was stunning. We were there alone and took several photos, enjoying the light spray of the waterfall hitting our faces and slightly sun-burnt arms. We drove down 45 minutes from the top of the falls to a ferry, which took us directly to Paraa Safari Lodge, where we are staying. It was a total of seven hours of traveling so we had a nice lunch, then relaxed all afternoon in our room before meeting Isaac for dinner. We're going to go to bed early so that we are ready to go see the "game" before the sun rises tomorrow on our SAFARI! It's a little bit of an out-of-body experience. I am aware that I will see lots of animals tomorrow and I know it will be exciting, but I never had this on my bucket list. I have never been especially drawn to savannah wildlife. I think elephants are incredible and giraffes are beautiful, but lions are completely removed from my reality, I have no idea what to expect. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens and just enjoying it all. Once in a lifetime experience! There is a general ennui I'm feeling right now. I think it's mostly my upset stomach, but also partly withdrawal from closing Rock of Ages, partly being away from home, and partly an unsettling feeling of seeming out of place here. It's very clear to me that this is not my land and I am very much a foreigner here. I compare what they eat to what New Yorkers eat, how they dress, how they talk, what they value... I find myself thinking often about my limited perspective of the world and how I want to stretch out of it. And also how grateful I am to have the perspective that I do. Starting to miss my friends and Schnipper's Greek Salads,

Day 13: Goodbye to AAH

There were warnings about this morning's assembly, that it would be sad and the children would cry when I left. And although it was definitely a sad farewell that came sooner than I had wished, it was also a lot of fun. I really love this school and these children are delightful. I use that word in its purest form. I had a smile plastered across my face the entire time. It was too bad that Dad couldn't join me this morning at the school. He went with John and Marissa to Bulobi for a meeting with an important Bududa district official to discuss the future of AAH and the possibility of building a secondary school now that the primary school has been such a massive success. Land is highly valued here and they need about 20 acres to build a new school. They also discussed the possibility of taking over existing buildings, perhaps of a local primary school nearby. It was great that they were able to have this meeting before we left the area, but it meant "Doctor Dean" wasn't there to receive his Bon Voyage from the students. Arlington Junior School assemblies take place in the central courtyard every Monday and Friday mornings. They always begin with calisthenics, basically a parade of militaristic marching, stomping, turning about face, etc. Then three young boys run up the stairs from the courtyard to three flagpoles and as they sing the Ugandan anthem and a song called "We are Women and Men of Uganda," they raise the Ugandan, American, and school flags. Afterwards they sing a few songs together, have a reading of a Bible quote, and have a short quiz of each class (one question per subject answered by volunteers) delivered by P-7 students, before announcements. Announcements were made by the two teachers on duty for the week. Teacher Moses talked about the importance of punctuality and "the embarrassment of late-coming" while teacher Edith focused on reminding children to bathe twice a day, cut their hair, and mend their uniforms. "Small tears and missing buttons can be de difference between looking messy and looking what...? Smart!" I'm fascinated by the rhythms which which they speak. Even when they aren't in school, the majority of folks here in Bududa speak as if they are interactively lecturing, adding ellipses to ends of every sentence to encourage listeners to complete their sentences for/with them. Edith continued, using a sixth grader Justine as a perfect example, "See, look hea! Her bow is tied perfectly where...? Dat's right. In de back. You do not want yoah dresses tied on de side. You may be a designer of fashion, but not wit yoah uniform. Yoah uniforms are meant to look uniform because dey are exactly dat... Uniform. I don't want to see any moah side bows, okay? So, follow de rules and you will not get in trouble! Keep yoah prisons, what...? Empty! That's right. Keep yoah prison empty." The school choir came out with their drums and sang a goodbye song to me and Doctor Dean. It was so adorable and they sang directly to me, using our names. Head Mistress Sarah spoke eloquently and kindly about how important my parents have been to the school and how I have left an indelible impression on the students. She asked me to speak briefly, which I did, thanking them for welcoming me so generously. I asked them to make a quick video to say thank you to Principal Holly for all of her support and love. (All of the teachers and staff asked me several times to make sure I passed on their love and greetings to you, Holly! They were insistent that you come back. They love you dearly.) To end the assembly, we did a reprise performance of The Ugly Duckling for the school in the courtyard. After considering the best ways to stay connected to the school this year and help out, I decided to become a sponsor for one of the first grade students, Muwangusi George. His story is devastating. Both of his parents died last year in a terrible landslide and he and his siblings were split up between a few different homes. He and I will write letters back and forth four times a year and I will pay his school fees for him - $360/year. I've included a photo of us together below. After the assembly, I went back to the Guest House and packed all of my things up. Dad and I left in a car headed for Kampala and had a really great time talking about the past 10 days. The drive took forever - we were stopped at one point for 45 minutes in a traffic jam outside Kampala - and after a nice indian dinner and my first hot shower in almost two weeks we hit the hay. We drive tomorrow morning to Murchison Falls Park, where we will be doing an early morning game safari Wednesday morning! Ugandan Factoids: - Watching the women balancing 80 pound bags of yams on their heads, or big bundles of firewood, as they scale the sides of hilly terrain just off the road reminds me that everywhere you go in this country you'll see strong women working their tails off! Where are he men? Often drinking homemade millet brew with their buddies out of long straws. - In Uganda they drive on the left, like the UK. - In Uganda, they notate the day/month/year, like the UK. - African time is no joke. Everything takes way longer than you'd expect!!

Day 12: Lots of Church and Lunch

Another early wake-up today! We went to two long services at different churches in the region. Church #1 was a very nice 1 hour and 45 minute service with some very reserved people in Bulocheke. It was a massive, traditional Anglican Church, all cement with very high ceilings and stained glass windows, which were the first I'd seen here. This was obviously a church that had been built by missionaries. There was a new vicar and the archbishop was there and they talked about deacons and dioceses - verrry Anglican and British. The sermon was about an individual's process towards development - both physically and spiritually. First you need to have love, the vicar said, next you need to have unity, then will come peace, and after that will come blessings, and with those blessings you can start to truly develop a deeper spirituality and step into your purpose to further develop your community and serve others. We left quickly after the service to drive a half hour to the next church. Church #2 was St. John's Church in Bukilasi. Even more rural, far up on a mountain, very remote. We took some very bumpy, difficult roads to drive up there, passing over some impossible bridges and through a eucalyptus forest. My father's church, St. Michael's Episcopalian in Arlington VA, paid for their roof and donated choir robes two years ago, so he was very eager to see how it looked. The sermon was "God Wants Us to Hear and Obey" and it was very nice. I expected these church services to feel more uncomfortable and the messages to be more conservative and politically divisive based on the experiences Marissa had mentioned to me, but they were as innocent as Hallmark cards. That said, this service was exactly three hours long. Children everywhere. Interesting Fact About Ugandan Church Services: For their offertory, 5 baskets are set on the altar, so they can add up tithes by clan. If congregants donate food or goods into the basket instead of money (!), they live auction them off right then and there. Then they count it all and announce the total amount collected that day to the congregation, by clan. Pastor Peter served us lunch after the service in the parsonage next to the church, even though John had asked him not to feed us, knowing that we had another lunch engagement down the mountain. It was a massive and delicious meal of matooke, rice and beans, beef stew, chicken, bamboo shoots, The Best Cabbage in the World cassava (or yucca), and chapati bread. And don't forget about the bottles of Mountain Dew, Coke, and FANTA that they break out only for special occasions. Holly told me that I would feel like the President of the United States and although I have been treated with the utmost respect and honor the whole time I've been in Bududa, it has been these Sunday meals that have really made me feel like an international politician or celebrity. Folks have Visitor Books that they ask you to sign when they visit and I signed Pastor Peters. I looked through it back six years - Dad and I are the only other Americans besides the Wanda Family and Marissa the Volunteer Coordinator. Our second lunch was at John's childhood teacher's home. It was also massive and delicious, but there was hardly any room in any of our stomachs. The mayi (grandmother) who served us made several attempts to guilt us into eating more food, but we were stuffed. We came home just in time to watch Jennifer the housekeeper kill the chicken that she planned to make for our dinner. Wow. Can't unsee that. It was interesting for sure, but also pretty gruesome. We leave here tomorrow morning to head back to Kampala! Safari on Tuesday and Wednesday! So excited, but sad to leave Bumwalikani. Sidenote: The stars here are INCREDIBLE just after the sun sets and just before the moon rises. Absolutely breath-taking.

Day 11: The Marathon

12:20pm WHOA. This morning was crazy! About 400 people ran two races at 8am this morning simultaneously - a 21.5k race (13.1mi or a half marathon!) and an 8k race (5 miles) for the runners who preferred a shorter run. I opted for the 8k and I honestly expected to walk most of it, but along the rocky dirt path were farmers working in their fields that watched and cheered and I was always surrounded by kids running, so I ran hard and never let up! I completed the race in 66 minutes, which I'm really proud of, but it was brutal. The middle 3k were on very steep, rocky, mountain hiking terrain that made it impossible to go much faster. It was insanely steep! I couldn't even run going downhill, it was too dangerous. Meanwhile, Dad did the half marathon, which meant he started at 8am, but as the race continued on, it became hotter and hotter. By the time he finished at 11:40, the sun was beating down hard and he and his three racemates were dehydrated and winded. I was so proud of him and made it my mission to find him more water and get him into the shade. Bududa is 5,000 feet above sea level, so the air here is thinner and much more difficult to run in. Needless to say, he and I are both exhausted. He is actually napping across from me in the clinic as I type this entry. 6:00pm All is well. After Dad's nap, we drank more water and then he did an interview for a local FM radio station about the marathon. We made our way back down the mountainside to the Guesthouse and have spent the afternoon chatting and resting. 7:30pm We ate another delicious home cooked meal, thanks to our ever diligent housekeeper Jennifer, who was the first woman to complete the half marathon this morning, by the way! Her impressive time was under 2 hours! 8:30pm Going to bed early. Can. Hardly. Type.

Day 10: Assembly & Diarrhea

Woke up early with a serious grumble in my tummy. Well, it had to happen someday. I must've eaten something that didn't agree with me. Pretty sure it's not anything serious, but it ain't pretty nonetheless. I had to get to school early to rehearse the plays again with the P4 students for our 7:30am assembly, so I decided against breakfast. I had a simple lunch of several healing spoonfuls of rice in the staff room while the teachers had a very bright, competitive conversation about tomorrow's marathon and football games, which sound a lot like Field Day. I edited several English papers from the P-4 students about their holidays, which took a few hours and then I went home to nap and rest. A nice quiet afternoon and evening! I'm starting to get excited about the father-son Safari next Tuesday-Thursday!

Day 9: More Plays

Today Dad, John, Marissa and the Sims went to Bupoto to check on a health clinic and one of the outreach schools over there. They are staying the night and returning tomorrow evening. I asked if I could stay in Bumwalukani so I could work more with the kids - and we threw together four more plays! The fifth graders did The Ugly Duckling and The Three Billy Goats Gruff; the sixth graders did How the Zebras Got Their Stripes and a funny little story called The King, The Mice, & The Cheese. I found each of the stories in the library and adapted them in the morning. Before their 30 minute rehearsals, I sat each group down while I read them the story, then we did a little improv based on the animal movement needed for each story. They all really wanted to be elephants and were hysterical - they were far less successful as goats. It was a lot of fun and I got to really test my cat-herding skills. All the kids worked together very well and really seemed to enjoy themselves. As all of the classes were sitting down for our big presentations and the teachers were moving their chairs into the shade before we started, the mentally handicapped daughter of the janitor walked into the middle of the outdoor area that was our "stage" and embraced the tree in the center. One of the students went up to her and yelled at her to move, so the girl promptly hit him in the arm. The courtyard erupted in laughter. Another student came up behind the girl and tried to pry her from the tree so she hit him too, and the onlookers laughed and pointed. I took it as a teaching opportunity. "We are about to perform a play about people who look differently and sound differently than we do. It's about people who laugh and belittle others for being unique. It's about finding our family and being accepted by others. Right now you are not being kind to this girl - and she deserves your kindness. Would you like to be laughed at?" It was a really amazing moment and I couldn't believe the timing of it all. Once the janitor came to take his daughter's hand, we got started. The kids were far more focused than I expected them to be and there were some stand out performances. The boy playing the Greedy Baboon was fantastic and the boy who played The King was extremely committed. We had a blast and it all went so smoothly. After we finished all four, the Head Mistress Sarah wanted command performances right away of Zebra/Stripes and King/Mice/Cheese and another teacher suggested we vote for the best actor of the day. They are certainly competitive. Four whitegirl doctoral students from Penn State arrived yesterday to volunteer at a health clinic near the school for a month and are staying in the Guesthouse, so I wasn't alone. This evening we spent some time together and I taught them how to play Shanghai Rummy. (I smoked them.) Uganda factoids: - When greeting strangers on the street, which everyone does, people say "Mulembe!" or "Mulembe, Papa!" if you're speaking to a distinguished man, a la "sir." - When shaking hands to greet, women kneel all the way to the floor to show respect to men - and some elder women. - Folks here have no last names! They are given two names, an African name and a Christian or Muslim name, i.e. Mushika Seth or Nabutiti Jemimah or Wakooko Roger or Watsemwah Sarah. - The name Justin does not exist here, but there are several Justines, so a couple have laughed when hearing my name - "You have a girl's name!" And I'm like, "Your name is WAKOOKO."

Day 8: Graduation Day

Today's journal entry is not going to be as long... We slept in until 7 and then walked to school holding a few homemade cakes that I helped Marissa make before bed last night. She's amazingly resourceful. She has a real old-school dutch oven that she bakes these big cakes in. Most of these Ugandans had never had homemade cake before Marissa came. At school I spent the first couple hours making a zillion rainbow daisy chains out of construction paper and decorated the library for the primary school graduation with Josh and a few of the teachers. As I was cutting all the strips of paper and stapling them individually, I started laughing out loud to myself about how ridiculously efficient I was being. I'm a machine. I said outloud to myself, "Just Mickey and Judy puttin' on a show!" (I thought of you, Matty.) A few minutes later, sweet Teacher Jemimah came up to me to ask "Who is Mickey and Judy?" Instead of having graduation on the last days of school, they hold it at the beginning of the next term, just before secondary school starts. The graduation celebration today also honored the graduates from secondary school that AAH sponsors. The graduation ceremony started very late and went on even later. It felt like every single person in the room had the opportunity to make a speech, some in both English and Lugisu. The most moving part of the ceremony was the recognization of the highest scoring student from secondary school, an albino girl named Pennina who has overcome many challenges to graduate in the top 99.8% of her class and get into an excellent university. I cried. She can't see very well, so she asked every teacher to please sit her in the front row and her sponsor got her glasses as an elementary student. Kids made fun of her as a child, but at AAH, children treated her as an equal. Also... Apparently, albino children are highly sought after by witch doctors here because their blood is rumored to heal dying people. So they kill them. Most parents either hide their albino children and don't send them to school - or sell them as babies. She was threatened several times in secondary school and had panic attacks, but Pennina is a survivor. And here she is now one of the most academically successful students in the country, humbly standing on the library stage. Cue the waterworks! After graduation and a brief lunch in the staff room, I was exhausted and not feeling well ...and took a 2.5 nap before dinner. Quote of the Day: After I slipped and almost knocked over the graduation sound system, which would have tipped over the table with 45 candles on it, Dad laughed almost to the point of tears and said "I think the worst thing I ever let you guys do was watch Airplane. You've never been the same."

Day 7: A Skeleton and Storytelling

Another full day at the primary school today! The Sims Family purchased a life-sized Halloween skeleton made of plastic and brought it over from the US to Uganda in a duffel bag. Today, I volunteered to carry the skeleton up as we walked from the Guesthouse through the small trading centre and up the fifteen minute path to AAH. The locals were mystified, amused, and terrified by the sight of a group of Americans walking around holding a skeleton by its spine! It was hysterical. Some schoolchildren squealed, some farmers wanted a close look to count the ribs and inspect the shoulder joint, some teenagers wanted to shove their hand through its jaw. We took Mr. Gregory Bones around to each classroom so the kids could inspect it up close. A fun start to the day. You'll love the pictures of the kids climbing over one another to touch the spooky guy. I spent the next two and a half hours with a red pen, editing letters that the fourth graders (P-4) wrote to their sponsors and pen pals in the States. Lots of spelling and grammar corrections, but also very enlightening for me! I learned a lot about local culture while I made a list of consistent mistakes the students made so that the teachers could address common problems. Then I worked on adapting The Three Little Pigs and Goldilocks and the Three Bears for this afternoon's Drama Session with Teacha Jah-sten (DAS ME!). I rewrote the stories for the purpose of presenting each one within the P-4 students, one group of 25 and one group of 30. No props or costumes - and better yet, no lines! I told the story while they acted it out. They said "Once upon a time!" with me and a few other key phrases in unison and then "The End!" together before bowing. Each story was simple: there were three boys that were the bowls of porridge (although we changed it to matooke, ma-toe-kay, a traditional Ugandan plantain dish), three chairs made out of girls, three beds made out of four students each, and of course, three bears and a goldilocks. We rehearsed and then switched. The other half of the class were the three pigs, a wolf, and three groups of materials: straw, sticks, and bricks, which the pigs built their homes out of. It was so cute to see the kids cooperating and becoming sticks and bricks and chimneys and doors. Even though the plan was to perform them tomorrow, we took so little time rehearsing, I decided we should just perform then right then! We presented each of the plays for the other half of the class, a few special guests, and the P-6 students. It was a major success and the Head Teacher (principal) Sarah used the performances as a teaching tool. She asked the students afterwards what the morals of each story were and how we could learn from them. Then they talked about how important creativity and cooperation are in all areas of life, not just putting on plays for each other. I was so proud. Head Teacher Sarah told us that she would like the children to perform the stories at the assembly on Friday. (I hear the African Guffman might be there!) Afterwards she pulled me aside to ask if I could do it with the rest of the students. Sarah noticed that some of the more active and creative students were some of the those that had been doing poorly academically and it made her emotional to see them succeeding at something. We had a great conversation about the value of exposing the students to theatre and storytelling - that the teachers are trained very mechanically and it is difficult to infuse the curriculum with this much fun and play. She thinks that these kids will remember today's lessons far more than their other more bland, rote assignments. After the performance, I went back to the fourth grade class and read them two books: Princess Sophia's Grand Tea Party about fairies and golden plates and ice sculptures and floating chairs and a swan-themed birthday party (WTF?!?) and a shortened version of Frozen. I hadn't seen Frozen the movie, so I really enjoyed reading them that little book. Totally cool story - Girl Power! After school I went to the library and got a few other storybooks to adapt more plays for tomorrow and Thursday. Who knows what other stories are headed these kids' way? I'll let you know. Josh Sims, the other volunteer my age from Boston with some rad tattoos, took me aside while we waited for Marissa, John, and my dad. He told me that he really enjoyed the plays today and videotaped them - and wanted to ask how comfortable it was for a guy like me (gay) to be doing theatre with the kids in such a disapproving country. We chatted for a little about the irony of the situation and then agreed that everything was fine as long as I didn't bring up my sexuality. No one would even think about it or care. I realized that part of my wanting to come and help out was to subvert the politics a bit. I have no plans to change anyone's minds, nor am I capable of that single-handedly, but I do feel like they deserve to meet someone gay - even if they never find out he is gay! It's good for them to see a man who is expressive and dramatic and fun and colorful. Does that make sense? Sidenote about washing hands and latrines: I'm somehow fine with it all. The constant dirty hands, the dark, smelly squat latrines, the rusty bent nails to lock the door, the old bleach jugs filled with rainwater that you use to wet our hands over the ground and the little square bars of hand soap sitting nearby. It's kind of a fun game. And makes me feel weird about harshly judging men back in NYC who don't wash after using urinals. Who cares? These people don't give a SHIT. I've shaken every person's hand in Bumwalikani and I've seen them all eat with their hands and pet their filthy cows and pick up roosters and sit on the ground. We hiked up the insanely steep mountain to John's mothers' home to enjoy a big family dinner, complete with the Best Cabbage Ever (a lot like moo shu vegetables, my favorite Chinese food) and delicious bamboo shoots. We sat on the mountainside overlooking the tall, rolling hills and mountainsides and had a nice talk with several of his relatives. The family has a big cow named Bernice and a 2 month old male calf, who they hadn't named yet. I spent some time with him, giving him a little massage and letting him lick my legs. Hilda told me it was time to name him and I should pick one for him. He was a sweet little guy and being a young, pacifist bull myself (Taurus), I immediately thought of Ferdinand the Bull. Remember that cartoon? I thought it was appropriate. We walked home together after sunset in the bright moonlight down the mountain, satisfying exhausted. The only way I have had to access wi-fi at all on this trip has been to coax Marissa the Volunteer Coordinator to turn her Android into a hotspot. Knowing that every text, email, and picture costs her precious data, I have limited my begging to once a day - and even gave her 10,000 shillings. (That amount seems generous as I was handing it over, but then I realized it was equivalent to $4. I'm awesome.) Anyway, the point is that for a couple days her hotspot hasn't really been working, so I can't even send this daily update. I'll send it when I can!

Day 6: The First Day of School

Ooooooh child. Today was the first day of school! After rolling/carrying a sixty pound suitcase of books up the mountain (and across a two by four bridge above a little stream), we made our way to the Arlington Junior School, the primary school that just celebrated its ten year anniversary. They began the day with an assembly, where they did calisthenics together before greeting their new teachers, getting speeches from the Head Teacher Sara and Founder "Uncle John" Wanda. Then several of the students got together into configuration and sang and danced welcome songs for us for ten minutes! (I will try to send a separate email with an audio clip.) I was very busy volunteering throughout the day, meeting all the staff and teachers, getting a full tour from Marissa, reading a book to several classrooms ("The Day the Crayons Quit"), handing out sponsor letters to the fourth and fifth graders - and letters from peers from their American sister school, Arlington Traditional School (where Garen and I went, and where Holly has been the principal for 24 years), helping them read all of the letters, eating lunch with the staff, editing the students' response letters, and teaching a step routine to the fifth graders. (Yes, Sarita, THAT step routine!) The children were adorable. So enthusiastic and inquisitive and welcoming and adorable. Their little uniforms were so sweet and their smiles melted my heart. It was incredible! I really don't have the words. I'm pooped. Tomorrow I am working with the fourth graders to create plays of "The Three Little Pigs" and "Goldilocks and the Three Bears," which we will present on Wednesday to each other. The rest of my day I will be volunteering in the library, taping up all the abused books. They don't have that many books for their appropriate age groups, so the books that they do have lose their spines very quickly and have have beat-up, rounded edges, with pages falling out. I wish I could buy a thousand more books for them.

Day 5: Church on the Hill

I can't maintain the kind of journaling I've done the past few days. Today I was so busy and active all day that I am just now able to take a second and jot down some of my thoughts... Today you get bullet points: - Slept beautifully until 8:30am - Short, freezing cold shower, much more fun and invigorating than I expected - A quick banana, buttered toast, hard-boiled egg - An extremely strenuous 75 minute hike uphill on dusty, slippery red rocks in the beating hot sun to a church service on a mountaintop (can't wait to show you the pictures and play the songs I recorded!) - Gorgeous, arid mountainside farmland replete with mud huts, wooden sheds, goats and cows tied to stakes by one leg, and hundreds of sweet, dirty children peeking out of homes with curious eyes and wide smiles saying "Mulembe!" (Meaning hello in Lugisu) or "Howareyou?" (the only English they know until starting school) - Several men eager to come out and meet us, introduce themselves (David, Richard, Peter...), shake our hands, join our walk uphill - A lovely two hour church service, with a sermon entitled "Arise and Shine" featuring English translation and a few speeches by a few goofy Americans (us) - A super friendly 23-year-old aspiring doctor named Vincent (and recipient of an AAH scholarship to acquire his nursing certification) who volunteered to translate our goofy speeches during the church service and insisted on holding my hand as we made our way on... - An insanely steep walk ("sloping" they called it) down the other side of the mountain to have a big meal at John's mother's house with two dozen family members and the best cabbage I've ever eaten. - A wonderful conversation with Vincent about faith and self-confidence while walking to see the grounds of Arlington Academy of Hope for the first time. - Garen's sponsored student, Joshua waiting for us at the Guesthouse this afternoon, eager to meet us and send his deep gratitude for Garen paying his school fees for years. I gave him a flashlight and Dad gave him some cash for back to school supplies. Joshua's begins his second year of secondary school tomorrow, S-2. - An adrenaline pumping boda-boda ride to Joshua's home 3 km up the dusty road. - Joshua's sweet family Winston & Naomi and his siblings Aaron, Don, and Rachael. They made a video on my phone for me to share with Garen when I return to NYC. They referred a couple times to Garen's amazing dance abilities and how flexible and gymnastic he was. - Delicious Quest Bar snack (chocolate cookie dough), especially yummy when warmed in your pocket all day! - A lovely walk back to the Guesthouse with Marissa during my favorite time of day, sunset, with some nice conversations about her experience working in the village for the last eighteen months and what exactly a stage manager does. - Reflections on Ugandan rural lifestyle: They have so little. It's like colonial times. It's shocking and also, completely simple. I am inspired and humbled and curious and grateful and eager to help and see myself in them and feel like an alien and feel like I'm on Mars and wish they could see other countries and wish I would see other countries and ... My hope for all of us is that we fight to understand more than what little we see of our corners of the world. - A big pasta dinner with Marissa and the Sims, who spent the day with their sponsored student Brian and his family. - Thinking of going to bed early because tomorrow is a big day - the first day of the new school year! Lots of celebrations and we have to BE at school by 7:30am!

Day 4: A Long Day of Driving

Sat 1/31 - 6:55am Last night I wisely chose to use the mosquito nets around the bed and found myself waking up from a much sounder sleep. I used ear plugs to block out the noise of the guard dogs in the neighborhood barking incessantly at each other and when I took them out as the sun was rising, I heard the sweet sounds of birds chirping and calling to one another. Far more tropical and varied than I am used to, these dozens (hundreds?) of birds sang and cawed and twittered to one another in a happy cacophonous chorus that made me smile. I sat listening to them for a while in a meditative state before doing my morning reading of The Book of Awakening. Today's passage was incredible, addressing the practice of breathing as a spiritual teacher. "As a man in his last breath drops all he is carrying, each breath is a little death that can set us free." For a guy who came to Africa for three reasons, the most important being to relax and let go, this passage set off some very poignant gongs in my head. "Breathing is the fundamental unit of risk, the atom of inner courage that leads us into authentic living. With each breath, we practice opening, taking in, and releasing. Literally, the teacher is under our nose. When anxious, we simply have to remember to breathe." So I took some deep breaths and could feel myself begin to unravel in a new way. 8:50am I took my vitamins and daily malaria medication, ate some breakfast (giant pineapple, baked beans, and beef sausage dogs again), and hopped into the car with our John Wanda and all of bags, headed for Kampala on the way to Jinja (the source of the Nile), Mbale, and our final destination, Bumwalukani in the Bududa district. Of the 100 districts in Uganda, Bududa is one of the smallest with only about 180,000. Bumwalukani is one of about 100 villages in the Bududa district. Earlier I mentioned that I was here in Uganda for three reasons. Yes, to relax, but also to spend quality time with my father and to serve the rural school, clinic, and community that Dad and Holly have devoted so much time and energy to for years. I am so looking forward to seeing these places in person, meeting the people, and doing my little part to help in whatever way I can. There was a story on CNN as we ate breakfast about LGBT visibility in China. Marissa and I discussed the Ugandan stance on homosexuality. Apparently the country has always been religious, conservative, and intolerant but three Christian fundamentalist missionaries came over in 2005 and met with high level politicians and encouraged them to create legislation criminalizing homosexuality. The government went so far as instilling the death penalty, the Kill the Gays bill. In the schools they teach homosexuality as a deviance akin to incest and bestiality and in church there are sermons demonizing gays. Marissa thinks that the gays in this country probably don't even know that it's possible to be gay. It's just not an option. There are no stereotypes here and folks don't know how gay people act, they just assume all people are hetero. I talked about how nervous I was to come initially but made the leap because I realized that as long as I didn't tell anyone, no one would know I was gay. Marissa lamented how difficult it has been to adjust to how women are treated here. She has a wall up, she said, with Ugandan men. They are very forward with her, often asking her whether she is married, and it has made her very uncomfortable. 9:55am Maybe the worst traffic I've ever been in. We are seven miles out of Kampala and probably going an average of 2mph. It's bumper to boda-boda to bumper. The sightseeing isn't pretty, not an inch of real estate is unused: shanty towns, lean-tos, kiosks selling double the merchandise of a Chinese shop on Canal Street, makeshift butcher shops with meat hanging from hooks on the street. Some buildings are cement but most are constructed of wood and corrugated steel. Lots of small homes and shops are painted by businesses, mostly in red by Airtel and Coca-Cola. John explains that owners get a free coat of paint, businesses get free advertisements. I was wearing a long sleeve shirt, but changed into a tee shirt because I've already sweated through it. It's a sticky 80 degrees out and I'm sitting in the direct sun in our van. 10:15am We are picking up John's friend Anthony in Freedom Village, the place we visited him last night. The poverty is astounding. So many children everywhere. John tells me that 55% of Uganda's population is under 17 years old. In America, the equivalent number is 20%. The children around the van while we wait for Anthony stare at me through the window, but communicate nothing. I think about how little opportunities they have. The very few possessions they own. The dirt roads they play in. The preverbial fishbowls they live in are very small. I don't know how I feel. I feel grateful and compassionate and jealous and sad and angry and don't let myself think very deeply about their circumstances. I smile and wave at them and they smile back. We are very different fish. 10:40am On the road into Kampala. The entire highway was completely stopped for 10 minutes, not sure why. We made small talk with our driver, Ronald. Dad: Exactly how many lanes are there? Ronald: As many as possible. 11:00am Finally in Kampala and waiting at the bank for the other van of volunteers. The ATM just ate my card. 11:25am The very unhelpful assistant manager actually comes through and retrieves my card for me, scolding me for not making my transaction fast enough. Thanks, lady! Dad laughs at the situation, which infuriates me, but after a few minutes I'm no longer upset. Between all the traveling and the traffic I am so ready to be in the village already. 1:00pm Marissa has finally arrived with the Sims family, Peter, Wendy, and their son Josh, who are also volunteering this week at AAH, and have been over a few times before. Although there are train tracks, there is no working rail system in Uganda, only trucks, so in addition to the cars, vans, taxis, and boda-bodas headed out of Kampala with us, there are a zillion cement trucks, fuel tankers, and big cargo trucks headed towards Kenya and Mombasa. 1:23pm Traffic has not improved. We are now turning off through Mbuya, a small side suburb, trying to beat traffic on the main road. John breaks down the sizes of the towns to me from smallest to largest: trading centre, township, town, municipality, and Kampala, Uganda's only official "city." 2:40pm We are finally out of the frustrating Kampala suburbs. There are still lots of little kiosks off of main road we are driving on, but much more space everywhere. Shallow valleys and massive fields of tea (green tea, John suggests), then sugar cane plantations. Densely populated little markets and clusters of shacks pop up every other hill. The landscape is much more lush and green but very dusty, and all of the plants and trees look almost crisp. The edges of every sugar cane plant are dried up, brown, and wilting down. Dry season here ends in March. Apparently it hasn't rained in weeks across the country, and there is generally little to no precipitation for months. John tells us that March and April are considered planting season, harvest is July and August, and dry season begins again in November. The roads are still busy, but moving a bit quicker now. Some buildings are made out of stone and brick with cement, which I realize now was not the case back in Kampala. 3:05pm Mabira Forest has a very thick undergrowth and tall trees, unlike anything else we've driven through. The traffic is lighter and we are really moving now. Trash litters the frayed edges of the dirty highway and every kilometer or so we pass a pair or trio of children walking or women carrying baskets or bags on their heads. Here I can faintly make out a middle white line in the road. With 17km left until Jinja, it begins to sprinkle. Road workers and market owners scramble for cover as the rain falls. John tells us that whenever rain comes during dry season, which hasn't happened in weeks, they say that the visitors have brought it, along with good luck. The sprinkling turns into pelting rain briefly and I can feel the luck. 3:45pm It has stopped raining. The bridge in Jinja that goes across the mouth of the north-flowing River Nile was built in 1952 has not been upgraded since then. There is a dam and 10 turbines, only a few of which still work. They were built to power both Uganda and Kenya, but even though there are only a few turbines left, the two countries still split the power apparently. We stop to eat just after crossing the bridge. I have Vegetable Samosas, a very bread-y Chicken Pie, a Banana Muffin, and some Chapati. The Indian influence is strong here and I've heard a lot from John about the politics of Idi Amin and his abolishment of the Indians and the current struggles between the two nationalities coexisting in this country. John says that Ugandans do not like Indian food, but it seems to me that a lot of the food I consider Indian is eaten here and has been adopted by Ugandan cuisine. We have decided to bypass Jinja Town to avoid traffic. We are now seeing much more livestock - loose cows, goats, and chickens. Here on this new road, there are much clearer lines painted between lanes and the shoulder and a nice median with a curb and maintained grass landscaping. Even though it briefly rained, it is still very dusty out along the road. I wipe my nose with a napkin from lunch and it is brown. 5:35pm Just woke up from another nap. The square shacks have been replaced by small circular huts with thatched roofs, huddled in clusters with dirt. They are farther from the street and each other. I see a few naked children here and there and more meticulously maintained farmland in small family patches. Less trash. More crispy palm trees. A big trash fire in the distance. We have just passed through a busy township with a very wide walkways where hundreds of people were gathered on either side, far more than we've seen today. There were loud radios playing and people milling about, not hustling for passerbys to buy their merchandise as they were around Kampala, but engaging with one another socially. It is possible they were just out of a church service of some sort? As we are leaving town I see two men approaching the township laughing and talking, and as we get closer I see that they are holding hands. A poignant image for a country that demonizes and misunderstands gay people. I am transfixed by the view. Each stretch between communities now has a few cows grazing. A brother and sister are pushing a bicycle with three big dirty yellow jugs filled with river water. Mothers are squatting together in this village with laundry. Teenage boys in rolled up jeans are playing with a soccer ball in that village. A group of people are walking together from one village to the next, dressed in colorful fabrics, almost like saris. A few young women are drying casava along the hot roadside, laid out carefully to dry on the shoulder of the highway. Children are hugging each other whispering and giggling, while turkeys congregate to peck nearby. So many beautiful little pictures of rural roadside Africans. These people feel far more relaxed and content than the folks we saw on the other side of the Nile. 6:00pm The road is now going through the very shallow Lake Kyoga (pronounced cho-ga), which seems more like a gigantic swamp. I inhale deeply. It smells incredible, sweet and earthly. The "lake" is a jigsaw puzzle of little rivers and deltas and tall plants with puffy heads, like those little white weeds that we used to blow on to make wishes. What are those called again? 6:30pm We are a few kilometers away from Mbale, where we had a 4pm meeting planned with a solar panel company, but due to the extreme traffic, we had to cancel. The goal was to get to the village before sun down at 7, but there's no way we'll make that. I have had The Sun Magazine sitting on my lap this whole trip and have only read two pages. The landscape is captivating and the afternoon sun is unbelievably intoxicating. You can see farther out into the horizon and Wanale Mountain looms in the hazy distance. We are passing by magical little moments and I can't capture any of them with my iPhone camera - not well enough to do them justice. Deep breaths. Little deaths. 6:50pm We have turned onto the bumpy red clay dirt road, 24 miles away from our destination. If I thought the other roads today were dusty, I don't know how to explain this. There are a couple other cars on the road and they kick up an unbelievable level of dust and dirt into the dozens of pedestrians walking and riding bicycles and motorcycles. There is still a bit of visibility, but not much breathability. I ask John how people can live and walk along these roads. He says "When you grow up with the dust, you don't even notice it." As the sun sets, it becomes much harder to see, with the occasional fluorescent light, roadside fire, and approaching car lights through the dust the only real sources of light beyond the quickly dimming skyline behind us. 7:45pm After 10 hours on the road (and a flat tire for the last quarter mile!), we have arrived in Bumwalukani at the AAH Guesthouse. It's a simple five room house with four bedrooms with four twin beds in each, off of a main gathering room. There is a separate house for cooking, storing food, and bathing (cold water showers only 5 minutes tops each from a rainwater storage tank), and a separate house for two latrines and a chicken room. You read that right. 10:25pm Dad and I unpacked our clothes into our room. There is a big bookcase where I was able to organize my things. The two housekeepers at the Guesthouse, Ruth and Jennifer, cooked us a delicious meal and we got to know the Sims Family.

Day 3: Kampala

Fri 1/30 - 8:50am I didn't sleep very well last night. It was very warm but there was a mosquito intent on buzzing in my ear all night, so I took shelter under a sweaty sheet. We got up at 7:50am to a big breakfast already laid out in Sam's kitchen: a massive pineapple cut into wedges, sausages (hot dogs?), baked beans, and little glass ramekins with individual poached eggs, whose yolks were almost as light as their whites. 9:45am Driving into Kampala now on crowded, busy Entebbe Road with boda-bodas (taxi motorcycles) dodging and weaving around us. The terrain is dry and dusty and as we go up and down the bumpy hills towards the city centre, we decide to keep our windows closed. Not just because the AC is on due to the heat, with the morning sun coming down, but the kicked-up dust and gasoline fumes are much stronger than the sweet, campfire air late last night. There are rocky ditches on the side of the unmarked four lane highway, lined with unending markets and no sidewalks. They drive on the left (vestigial rule from the British colonization) here and even though we were about seven miles outside of town, people are already walking the long distance into town. In more crowded, trafficked areas men hustle to sell newspapers window to window, running after cars, and some sell car mats and toilet paper by the roll. 10:50am Had a 30 minute meeting with Prasoon Lal, an executive of Airtel, the 4th largest global provider of telecommunications and technology, to discuss the possibility of AAH partnering with them to bring Internet to the small villages in the Bududa district. Airtel's community/social responsibility programming is potentially interested but wants to know how far out the villages are and how much money it would take to invest in new fiberoptics and masts. Interesting meeting! It seems like it was a success. Marissa is going to email Prasoon the GPS coordinates of the schools. I didn't have anything to say, but I sat there, alert and engaged like a good tagalong. 11:45am Just got to the Speke Hotel (where we'll stay next week) and changed out $100 American for $284,000 Ugandan Shillings. Monopoly money!! On our way into the finance office, we ran into an older man who was the mayor of Kampala in 1985 and also head of the Democratic Party. Random surprise! 12:25pm This is a busy day of meetings and driving through insane Kampala traffic to get from one to the other. I am now sitting outside of a small house where Kit & Co Accountants work, where Dad, John, and Marissa are having a meeting with a company about auditing the school's finances. I am reading The Sun magazine on a comfy chair and going in and out of a nice gentle nap. I'm totally a fish out of water here in Uganda, but can already feel my scope of the world broadening. The people here live such fascinating lives and I am reminded at every turn how many more opportunities and luxuries we have in America. I keep thinking about how I'm being perceived. I have experienced only friendly people, who smile broadly and are eager to (lightly) shake hands and tell me their Christian name - Fred, James, John Bob. These folks definitely acknowledge me as Caucasian and probably immediately as American. But knowing that Uganda is one of the most violently homophobic countries in the world, I find myself wondering how these people really feel about gay people and whether they have ever met one before. And what would they think of me? If they got to know a normal, healthy, well adjusted homosexual who doesn't threaten their existence, would that they change their minds? 12:50pm Now driving through Makerere University campus. Stopped to walk around the "quad" and entered the physics department, where we ran into another man named Fred, Professor Fred Twinamasiko, who gave us a walking tour of the department. The building was in serious disrepair and the computer labs and electronics rooms were unbelievably old-fashioned, sparse, and out-dated. Makerere University is the best and oldest college in Uganda and the fact that they have such limited resources and materials was shocking. Prof Fred is interested in coming to AAH and giving a presentation to the students about space, the moon, and basic physics! His associate is going to help us find the energy department. 1:50pm Now we're walking around the Engineering, Design, Arts, and Technology Building and just came into the energy wing, where "we" are all speaking with a young man named Patrick who is an expert in solar panels and batteries. And now we're in a meeting with Smith Tukahirwa, who Patrick brought us to. Smith is a project engineer with CREEC, the Centre of Research in Energy and Energy Conservation. They are discussing potential renewable energy technology projects with alternative resources that CREEC and AAH could partner in: pico-hydro, micro-hydro, turbines, biomass. Lots of conversation about feasibility studies and training local communities to maintain their own energy conservation systems. Logistical implications may determine how affordable and appropriate these energy projects may be for AAH, but CREEC is going to come out to do tests in Bududa. I am only really observing today and have had a lot of free time to journal, but I wonder if I will continue to have this much writing time in the coming weeks... I look forward to being in the school and interacting with the children. Sidenote: We are all feeling the jet lag and haven't eaten since 8am. My energy has dropped and I am starving. 3:30pm We finally ate! Matoke (plantains), posho (maize flour), millet, rice, irish (boiled potatoes), peas, beef, so much food for only $4 (10,000 shillings). A lot of carbs! I am not sure you'd approve, Garen. Kampala is a bustling city, full of vans and cabs and cycles and motorcycles and people crisscrossing the roads, but the people are in no hurry to get anywhere. The fashion and the buildings are all cheaply made, but strong in statement. Women wear colorful polyesters and men wear silk ties and leather shoes. Big office buildings and hotels are in poor condition, but architecturally creative. The roads are in shambles and there are almost never sidewalks. A lot of old British colonial influences still weigh strongly in the way things look and what they are named. 6:20pm After a visit to Craft Village and the shops on the grounds around the National Theatre (where we bought Holly more of her favorite handmade blue and gold necklaces), we just drove back towards Sam's house through the insane traffic, making a brief stop at John Wanda's friend Anthony's home. It is a very small one room home connected the mini-store that his wife runs. We met their new three month old baby Christine. The level of poverty is diametrically opposed to their level of happiness and pride. Anthony and his wife beamed as they showed off their infant in their oppressively small room with three wooden chairs, hangers hung around the room on wooden pegs, a twin bed, and a triple bunk bed for his older children that lived with them. It really tugged at my heart strings. 6:40pm The girl that Holly and Dad have sponsored for the past 10 years was waiting for us at Sam's house when we arrived. She is so sweet and full of love. She saw Holly's video and made one of her own for me to show Holly when I return. We gave her the gifts we had for her - including a new laptop computer and she was ecstatic! I was starting to fade, so I sat on the couch. 8:20pm I just took a 90 minute nap. I woke up to the car starting outside and people saying goodbye to Annah. 8:55pm Another nice Ugandan meal at Sam's - very simple spaghetti, meat sauce with baked beans, peppers, and carrots, and boiled potatoes. Now a stretch and a shower before a good night's sleep. Hope all is well stateside!

Days 1 & 2: Landed!

Thu 1/29 - 9:50pm We are here! It's almost 10pm in Kampala, here at Entebbe Airport. We had a fairly easy travel day. I slept through the entire six hour flight from DC to Amsterdam and we had a nice four hour layover at Schiphol Airport. Since I usually sleep so easily, the eight hour flight we just took made me a bit nervous. In order to beat the jet lag I knew I needed to stay awake and push through so that I could actually sleep tonight in Uganda. I decided to watch a few action-packed movies to pass the time. I saw Gone Girl, which was intense and excellent, and Lucy, which was intense and ridiculous. I took a three hour nap between movies (oops!) and ate a few small meals, but the time passed quickly. Dad worked on his computer, researching biodigesters and sorting through emails and reports from different vendors that we'll be meeting with tomorrow in Kampala. 10:20pm - Welcome to Africa! We're now in line for a visa, after passing through a long, circuitous maze of stantions that took us to the first entry point manned by nurses with face masks, giving us hand sanitizer, taking our health forms, and taking our temperature via an infrared gun (how modern!). It is very warm here, about 80F, and it smells faintly like a fireplace. There is a child crying down a hallway out of sight and people are quiet and focused, like everyone usually is entering customs anywhere in the world. 10:35pm We got all of the bags no problem at the baggage claim and I picked up wi-fi for 10 seconds and sent you each a text that said "In Kampala!" but I'm not sure you got it. Marissa, the AAH Volunteer Coordinator (who is from Wisconsin originally and has worked here for 16 months), met us outside with a young Ugandan driver named John Bob. As we walked into the open parking lot, lit by harsh fluorescent light, I took a deep breath and the fresh air smelled fantastic. It was unique scent, and yet also reminiscent of the dirt of Bali, the streets of Guadalajara, and the breeze in Costa Rica, mixed with campfires from childhood. The climate here is warm and humid - and peaceful. 11:45pm As we drove in the small car (which somehow miraculously fit all of us and our extra luggage of gifts and school supplies we carried over for the school), John Bob explained to us that he was inspired by our work and the love we were bringing to his country. It turns out he was sponsored himself by a woman in Pennsylvania, who paid for his school fees from age second grade on. It set a really lovely tone for our first moments here and as we drove along the dark roads away from the airport I felt myself relaxing and getting very excited for the adventure ahead... We have now arrived at Sam's house, where we will be for the next 36 hours, before we head into the village in the mountains. He doesn't have wifi, but hopefully at some point during the day tomorrow I'll find a place in the city to log on and send this. Sam and his family live in a very nice home by Ugandan standards. They served us a delicious, simple meal and we each have our bedrooms, so I'm hoping to get a solid night of Z's. Please email me for the next few weeks - I have no clue if I'll have Internet access whatsoever in Bupoto or Budada or Bumwalikani, but I'll write to you when I can. I know we'll have service at the Speke Hotel when we return to Kampala on Mon Feb 9, but I sure hope to reach out before then.