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.