Its funny how if you get two things accomplished in a day here, it is a good day, yet when I think about all that has happened since my last blog there is too much to write about. I think this blog will be less a chronology and more about the things I don’t want to forget or that have made me laugh.
- I have adapted to, at any point, no matter how intently I am focused on something, to thrusting my arms out and clapping violently at the slightest hint of a mosquito. I also have worked past any hesitation at smacking any part of myself if a mosquito lands on me. The sound of me slapping my own ear is a new sound to my 28 years on this earth. It isn’t that there are that many of them. It’s that when they whiz by my ear at 3 in the morning I can’t sleep and I’m taking it personally. My kill ratio is not quite up to Karate Kid standards but what I lack in skill I make up for in gumption.
- Gerald, the day guard of our compound, is iconic. On our first day he forgot Ginger and Meagan’s names and said. “Sometimes we need to be reminded, because we are all human and forget things.” Last year when the water wouldn’t flow out of the cistern he said, “Let me do some small technology” and shoved a stick up the drain. Now, Gerald keeps throwing the loose vegetation and organic trash over our wall in our backyard. He has a rickety ladder he climbs and just dumps it. I have no idea what is on the other side of the fence, other than our trash. We have theorized there may be goats which eat the trash or a compost pile, but we don’t smell the trash nor do we see smoke from it being burned or hear goats bleating. My vote is Gerald has found a trash abyss, a full fledged crevasse, into which our leaves flutter down.
- We were at SAS and desperately needed caffeine before an 11 o’clock meeting, which was actually supposed to be a 10 o’clock meeting but we found out it got postponed when we arrived. So we go next door and ask if we can get coffee in the next 15 minutes, it being 9:40. The waitress says yes and I even change my order to coffee like Meagan and Ginger in order to save time. Ten minutes later three teas come out. None of us ordered tea, but we take it. We give her money immediately, saying we are in a rush, and have our tea. As Ginger and Meagan sip away and I gulp my chai burning my tongue, I get increasingly tense as my watch tells me we are late, more late, and then uber late. At 11:20 I ask how late are we comfortable being, probably with a little attitude. At this point we still don’t have change and I secretly want to hunt our waitress down for my shillings. Ginger and Meagan seem unworried.
We finally walk into the office at 11:35 only to find the meeting hasn’t started yet. When it does start at 11:45 it goes on for 30 minutes with us shut in another room. Apparently there was private business to discuss. So we wait in a closed office and just like when you wait in a doctor’s office I want to mess with things or dance for the rush from the risk of getting caught. Around 12:15 we are included to the meeting and it lasts much longer than it needed to. Conclusion, I am SO American and next time order more tea, I mean coffee.
- My wristwatch alarm goes off every night at 7:31 pm. It used to go off at 11:31, but then I figured out how to change the time. For the life of me I can’t figure out how to turn it off though. Meagan told me last year she had a wristwatch with an alarm she couldn’t turn off. Now it is lost somewhere in her car and she sometimes hears it and laughs. Turns out we bought the exact same watch and I envision smiling in my apartment back home when I hear it go off.
- Every other time Meagan steps in the bathroom at night the apartment is filled with her screams at the latest cockroach. This is the signal for us to take battle stations. Meagan keeps an eye on it, I grab a shoe or something and kill it then squeal and run away grossed out and Ginger picks up the dead cockroach with a patent-pending technique. We then yell at it as it is flushed. The weird thing is I’ve never seen a cockroach in there by myself. It can’t be that they hear me coming and don’t hear Meagan because 1) Meagan is loud and 2) I’m apparently so quiet that I keep on scaring Meagan. She says I’m a lurker. I feel like any day now I’ll turn around and see eight of them circling me. In related news, we bought some new toilet paper that said it was green. I interpreted this to mean it was from made from recycled materials. No, it’s green. Why isn’t there colored TP back home? Think of all the tacky pattern and seasonal colors we’re missing out on.
I’m making it sound like it is all fun and games here. Honestly, we are working a lot too. We finished processing the pre-tests which was really involved. First each test gets graded and tallies of correct, incorrect, unsure, or missing data are added. Then each test gets numbered and we record the student’s name and number in a book, then we record all 32 pieces of info from the test into an excel sheet. We were taking bets on how many we had and it was over 2300. Moses and the three of us have been working feverishly on two computers at once to finish them. Of course, when we proudly reported being finished with data entry the next question everyone asks is when the results will be available. That is what we are doing now and it is painstaking.
We also lost some hours of work because I accidentally coded several hundred tests wrong and had to work some magic with excel’s find and replace function. That was before we cut the files into smaller worksheets and our computers were bogging down too. I would make a correction and two minutes later it would happen. Meagan and Ginger were great about it though and when they had every right to push me in a ditch they hugged me, said it could have happened to anyone and suggested we grab a beer. Good friends. The beer wasn’t bad either ;)
After my confidence was shot from the rookie mistake, today was a good day because I was out making contacts for my own interests and had a great meeting with the HR guy at the Ugandan Human Rights Commission. Traveling around the city is really manageable for me and the city seems smaller every day. Tomorrow I head out again to more big name humanitarian organizations and because my emails aren’t being returned and I show up without an appointment it feels like speed dating. I show up, introduce myself, try to explain how great I am and why they should let me spend more time with them, then I try to get a number before I go.
I haven’t networked as much as I wanted to considering how exhausting the days are here and with not feeling my best due to the anti-malarial (got a new one at SAS clinic, yeah!) the days pass by quickly. We don’t have much time left. One month is nothing and we are traveling to Hoima, Gulu, conducting focus groups in Kampala, and also hope to make a trip to the southwest part of Uganda to Mary’s village. (Please watch the video of the amazing Mary give pre-tests on the photo link to the right). It is going by so quickly but before I came I set one goal for myself: get there to see if you like it. I’m here and I like it. Good to know.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
June 10th-15th
June 10th – 14
Last Friday we decided to go the Uganda National Center for Science and Technology. Despite having ethical research approval through both the University of Memphis and Makerere University, G&M still have to get approval from the government. This is a new requirement since 2008 and they still have not heard back with in acceptance or rejection despite having turned it in years ago. Lest you think its corruption, I have heard from three other academics that got approval in a week. But we were encouraged to give it another try so we headed downtown to the office which has no sign.
An hour of matatus later we get to the office only to find it’s moved to a location very near where we started from. By this point we were exhausted so we stopped to have some samosas and a banana split downtown. Not only is it hot downtown because the buildings block the air flow, but you constantly have to watch your step for boda bodas, cars, pedestrians, and vendors. Often a sewer or drainage ditch will lack a cover so you have to not step into the 2ft wide opening in the cement while also looking for the rare street sign and while also shaking your head no to all the boda boda drivers who assume we would rather pay than walk because we are white. Basically it is an assault on the senses and we usually find ourselves in need of a break after what would be considered an easy travel in the States.
So we get to the new location of the UNCST, go through a security check which involved a walk-through metal detector which wasn’t plugged in only to find they have no idea where the application is and the person who would know is on vacation. The girls didn’t expect much and we just laughed it off. That day we also had no running water and the electricity kept going out so we came home to bathing the old school way with a small basin and a thermos of heated water we got from a rain water cistern outside.
Saturday was a full day. We left early to go to Kyengera, a suburb of Kampala about an hour away via matatu. We went to the new taxi park (see in the pictures) which I’m told looks older than the old taxi park. Basically you have to know where the vans are going amidst a see of vans. We were going because our friend Moses who is helping us with our research arranged for us to come to a secondary school near his home so we could try our focus group questions out on an extracurricular club. Before that though he made us a fabulous meal at his home and we chatted to him and his friend Innocent while neighbors’ children came and sat by us and played with our shoes.
As we ate it started to pour rain and looked like a hurricane was outside. By the time we had to go it was still raining and we had to get wet on our way to the school. The focus group went brilliantly and Moses, who had never led a focus group before, was a complete natural. There were 25 students and for a focus group you want no more than 15, so it was a difficult task to get that many teens to talk about HIV.
We stopped back at his place on the way home and exchanged the wet coats we had for some sweaters. I had placed my purse down as I put the too-small sweater on when I heard Meagan shoo something away. I looked only to find a chicken in my purse. My purse was the perfect size for it and it took its time getting out as we shooed it. My only hope was that it didn’t leave any presents for me!
We walked down the road to try to catch and boda. By this point we are really wet, my hair looks like I just got out of the shower, my cloth shoes are acting like sponges, and the dirt roads are wet and full of puddles. We catch one boda which can seat two of the four of us but the other distance boda we flagged down can’t start. This was not inspiring my confidence. It finally starts only to fly by us so we have to wait for another. We get another and hold on for dear life with the rain hitting our faces and making us squint.
At the top of a hill the boda’s engine stops. I’ve seen matatus turn off at red lights to save gas and I hope that the driver wants to ride the hill down with gravity. Meagan and I kept up with Ginger and Innocent for a while, but when the road evened out we came to a stop. The driver starts frantically kicking the kick-start and after maybe 12 tries Meagan and I ask if we should get off. The driver ignores us and keeps kicking away. Keep in mind we are 1 foot away from the driver, Meagan is touching him, yet he doesn’t respond even when she says Sir! in Luganda. By this point Meagan, myself, and the peanut gallery of twelve or so people we stopped in front of are laughing. To see one white person is rare in this suburb. To see two on a broke down boda in the rain with a driver who is ignoring us as he kicks away is hilarious. I looked at two men who were really enjoying the entertainment and threw my hands up laughing.
Eventually the engine started and the two men threw their hands up in celebration as did I, only to have the engine die again in 4 seconds. By this point I said to Meagan, “This is ultimately pathetic. Here we are two white girls on a broken boda with a driver who is ignoring us, soaked and freezing with the cold rain, me with a too-small sweater and probably chicken poop in my purse. All you can do is laugh.
Eventually he got the engine going but had it revving high in neutral. Meagan and I held on for dear life because we knew when he put the boda in drive we would take off so we waved our goodbyes to the still laughing audience and clung to anything we could grab as he sped away. Both of us were thinking that if the boda slipped and we fell we would get completely covered with the terracotta colored mud. We would look like those mud people at Woodstock and have to ride the hour long matatu back to Kampala like that. On the matatu we caught I sat next to a nun so that would have been really horrible!
We got back and it was still raining. We were cold, wet, and exhausted and accidentally took the wrong direction, walking needlessly in the rain. By the time we got back home our only consolation was that we had running water and electricity. I managed to change into dry clothes then slept for a few hours. It was a great day but it wore me out.
Sunday morning we took it easy to recover but we had to prepare for the birthday party we were throwing for Joan that night. We had decided we wanted to make tacos because we love them and we thought Joan’s two kids would like them too. Keep in mind, Mexico is far away from Uganda and you can’t find salsa in stores here. So we made salsa, guacamole, and taco spices for the meet from scratch. We had to settle for nachos because we couldn’t find anything like a tortilla, but the result was fabulous. I kept having to go back for items we thought we had but didn’t, like a can opener and ripe enough avocados and CHEESE but after the fifth trip we had it all.
Joan loved her earrings and necklace and we also got gifts for her two kids, Louis and Lighten. We got them Roal Dahl’s books The Crocodile with Enormous Teeth and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and we also ordered a cake (with some difficulty) from the local market. Joan said it was the best birthday she ever had and cried. Success! She even loved the food but her kids and house-girl Dafflin weren’t fond of the spices. The food here is really bland but Ginger made plain meat too so they had food to enjoy. Ginger did all the cooking and Meagan and I told her we are making that food again!
Monday I caught up with work as G&M went to a school observation with Mary. Mary invited us to see her village in the West and we are trying to plan things out amidst our other trips for SAS. A friend of our, Pharouk, saw me on facebook, said hello and that he would stop by the apartment shortly. I’m not used to people inviting themselves but that happens a lot here. He did stop by and talked for an hour then we all caught up with him at a restaurant named Alfredo’s with every kind of food but Italian. The electricity went out and bats were flying in the fruit trees above us. The fruit was so ripe that grape-sized fruit kept falling on us, making us spook. It was hilarious.
Tuesday we hit the data entry hard. Moses cam over to help and we had an assembly line going. One person numbered the pre-tests, another wrote down the numbers associated with the student’s names in our codebook, and two of us entered the 32 data points into the computer. After hours of work we got to student number 745 which was over 23,000 data points. Last summer they only had 600 students and now we are taking bets on how many we have. My guess is 2800, the girl guessed less but then they lost confidence and wanted a re-bet when we hit 1000. It’s like the games in kindergarten where you guess how many jelly beans are in the mason jar.
Wednesday we are getting new passport photos taken because we heard back from the UNCST and we have to do a partial re-submit of one form, a letter of recommendation, and new photos. Hopefully this will work and we will get IRB approval which allows us to publish. All fingers are crossed!
Last Friday we decided to go the Uganda National Center for Science and Technology. Despite having ethical research approval through both the University of Memphis and Makerere University, G&M still have to get approval from the government. This is a new requirement since 2008 and they still have not heard back with in acceptance or rejection despite having turned it in years ago. Lest you think its corruption, I have heard from three other academics that got approval in a week. But we were encouraged to give it another try so we headed downtown to the office which has no sign.
An hour of matatus later we get to the office only to find it’s moved to a location very near where we started from. By this point we were exhausted so we stopped to have some samosas and a banana split downtown. Not only is it hot downtown because the buildings block the air flow, but you constantly have to watch your step for boda bodas, cars, pedestrians, and vendors. Often a sewer or drainage ditch will lack a cover so you have to not step into the 2ft wide opening in the cement while also looking for the rare street sign and while also shaking your head no to all the boda boda drivers who assume we would rather pay than walk because we are white. Basically it is an assault on the senses and we usually find ourselves in need of a break after what would be considered an easy travel in the States.
So we get to the new location of the UNCST, go through a security check which involved a walk-through metal detector which wasn’t plugged in only to find they have no idea where the application is and the person who would know is on vacation. The girls didn’t expect much and we just laughed it off. That day we also had no running water and the electricity kept going out so we came home to bathing the old school way with a small basin and a thermos of heated water we got from a rain water cistern outside.
Saturday was a full day. We left early to go to Kyengera, a suburb of Kampala about an hour away via matatu. We went to the new taxi park (see in the pictures) which I’m told looks older than the old taxi park. Basically you have to know where the vans are going amidst a see of vans. We were going because our friend Moses who is helping us with our research arranged for us to come to a secondary school near his home so we could try our focus group questions out on an extracurricular club. Before that though he made us a fabulous meal at his home and we chatted to him and his friend Innocent while neighbors’ children came and sat by us and played with our shoes.
As we ate it started to pour rain and looked like a hurricane was outside. By the time we had to go it was still raining and we had to get wet on our way to the school. The focus group went brilliantly and Moses, who had never led a focus group before, was a complete natural. There were 25 students and for a focus group you want no more than 15, so it was a difficult task to get that many teens to talk about HIV.
We stopped back at his place on the way home and exchanged the wet coats we had for some sweaters. I had placed my purse down as I put the too-small sweater on when I heard Meagan shoo something away. I looked only to find a chicken in my purse. My purse was the perfect size for it and it took its time getting out as we shooed it. My only hope was that it didn’t leave any presents for me!
We walked down the road to try to catch and boda. By this point we are really wet, my hair looks like I just got out of the shower, my cloth shoes are acting like sponges, and the dirt roads are wet and full of puddles. We catch one boda which can seat two of the four of us but the other distance boda we flagged down can’t start. This was not inspiring my confidence. It finally starts only to fly by us so we have to wait for another. We get another and hold on for dear life with the rain hitting our faces and making us squint.
At the top of a hill the boda’s engine stops. I’ve seen matatus turn off at red lights to save gas and I hope that the driver wants to ride the hill down with gravity. Meagan and I kept up with Ginger and Innocent for a while, but when the road evened out we came to a stop. The driver starts frantically kicking the kick-start and after maybe 12 tries Meagan and I ask if we should get off. The driver ignores us and keeps kicking away. Keep in mind we are 1 foot away from the driver, Meagan is touching him, yet he doesn’t respond even when she says Sir! in Luganda. By this point Meagan, myself, and the peanut gallery of twelve or so people we stopped in front of are laughing. To see one white person is rare in this suburb. To see two on a broke down boda in the rain with a driver who is ignoring us as he kicks away is hilarious. I looked at two men who were really enjoying the entertainment and threw my hands up laughing.
Eventually the engine started and the two men threw their hands up in celebration as did I, only to have the engine die again in 4 seconds. By this point I said to Meagan, “This is ultimately pathetic. Here we are two white girls on a broken boda with a driver who is ignoring us, soaked and freezing with the cold rain, me with a too-small sweater and probably chicken poop in my purse. All you can do is laugh.
Eventually he got the engine going but had it revving high in neutral. Meagan and I held on for dear life because we knew when he put the boda in drive we would take off so we waved our goodbyes to the still laughing audience and clung to anything we could grab as he sped away. Both of us were thinking that if the boda slipped and we fell we would get completely covered with the terracotta colored mud. We would look like those mud people at Woodstock and have to ride the hour long matatu back to Kampala like that. On the matatu we caught I sat next to a nun so that would have been really horrible!
We got back and it was still raining. We were cold, wet, and exhausted and accidentally took the wrong direction, walking needlessly in the rain. By the time we got back home our only consolation was that we had running water and electricity. I managed to change into dry clothes then slept for a few hours. It was a great day but it wore me out.
Sunday morning we took it easy to recover but we had to prepare for the birthday party we were throwing for Joan that night. We had decided we wanted to make tacos because we love them and we thought Joan’s two kids would like them too. Keep in mind, Mexico is far away from Uganda and you can’t find salsa in stores here. So we made salsa, guacamole, and taco spices for the meet from scratch. We had to settle for nachos because we couldn’t find anything like a tortilla, but the result was fabulous. I kept having to go back for items we thought we had but didn’t, like a can opener and ripe enough avocados and CHEESE but after the fifth trip we had it all.
Joan loved her earrings and necklace and we also got gifts for her two kids, Louis and Lighten. We got them Roal Dahl’s books The Crocodile with Enormous Teeth and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and we also ordered a cake (with some difficulty) from the local market. Joan said it was the best birthday she ever had and cried. Success! She even loved the food but her kids and house-girl Dafflin weren’t fond of the spices. The food here is really bland but Ginger made plain meat too so they had food to enjoy. Ginger did all the cooking and Meagan and I told her we are making that food again!
Monday I caught up with work as G&M went to a school observation with Mary. Mary invited us to see her village in the West and we are trying to plan things out amidst our other trips for SAS. A friend of our, Pharouk, saw me on facebook, said hello and that he would stop by the apartment shortly. I’m not used to people inviting themselves but that happens a lot here. He did stop by and talked for an hour then we all caught up with him at a restaurant named Alfredo’s with every kind of food but Italian. The electricity went out and bats were flying in the fruit trees above us. The fruit was so ripe that grape-sized fruit kept falling on us, making us spook. It was hilarious.
Tuesday we hit the data entry hard. Moses cam over to help and we had an assembly line going. One person numbered the pre-tests, another wrote down the numbers associated with the student’s names in our codebook, and two of us entered the 32 data points into the computer. After hours of work we got to student number 745 which was over 23,000 data points. Last summer they only had 600 students and now we are taking bets on how many we have. My guess is 2800, the girl guessed less but then they lost confidence and wanted a re-bet when we hit 1000. It’s like the games in kindergarten where you guess how many jelly beans are in the mason jar.
Wednesday we are getting new passport photos taken because we heard back from the UNCST and we have to do a partial re-submit of one form, a letter of recommendation, and new photos. Hopefully this will work and we will get IRB approval which allows us to publish. All fingers are crossed!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
June 1-9th 2011
It’s been a crazy week or so and I finally feel as though I’m getting my bearings.
June 1st I had my first observation of a SAS mentor in a school. Usually the mentors teach small classes but there is a new push to teach in larger schools, where the classes are 300+. Imagine trying to keep the attention of 300+ 6 year old students for 30-45 minutes. It’s not an easy task but Mary, one of SAS’ best mentors and the woman Ginger and Meagan call their African mother, makes it look easy.
We went to Buganda Rd Primary School and there are pictures up under Ginger’s Picasa account. It is a public government school even though they students wear uniforms and the parents must pay fees. When we arrived the kids flocked Mary’s car and then us as we got out. The kids would walk up to us and then just silently stare while others would play peek-a-boo, shyly running up only to squeal and run back if I looked their way. Many would say hello and ask how I was and yell Mzungu! The ones who had already said hello would come and touch my arm to see what white skin felt like. Mary said it was probably the first time they had spoken to a white person or even seen one. In the classroom the kids got extremely excited about having their pictures taken and they loved seeming themselves in the Polaroid we left with them. By the second class word must have gotten around because when I forgot about the picture, the students loudly said picture! picture!
The next day we went to the SAS office and then another school where the curriculum will move into. It’s really the only program of its kind, focusing on HIV education among primary school students with mentors who are in their classrooms once a week for the whole term. It’s a good thing that it’s so worthwhile because it makes the stacks and stacks of tests we have to grade and then enter into a computer worth it. If you see the pictures of papers on our kitchen table you can get a sense of how much work we’ve been doing. Its taken about 36 working hours to hand grade them and who knows how long to finish the database, but it will be great to know what the students know and don’t know. In one case a teacher was trying to help and graded them herself, but she got one wrong when she made her won key, which shows how important the information is for students and teachers alike.
Enough about our work…the bush crickets here are a delicacy. They are called grasshoppers here but are way bigger than the grasshoppers back home. We asked Grace to try them and ants, which were recommended by a guy we talked to at 1000 cups who was leading a student service/learning program with U of Michigan. Before Grace fried the grasshoppers she called me over to se how fresh they were. So fresh, that one was still moving. “Yup, they’re fresh” I said. I tried one of the ants then and they weren’t bad, especially since they weren’t alive! They tasted like a smoky earthy bacon-y spice. When we had the grasshoppers they tasted alright, but were really crunchy and I didn’t appreciate them as much as Ginger, who was dipping them in ketchup like French fries saying they tasted like soft shell crab.
After we had eaten we went to Rose’s house to say hello. Immediately we were given photo album after photo album of the wedding. It was funny to see ourselves in an Eritrean’s wedding album. Before we knew it a huge meal was brought out even though we said we had just eaten eventually we were offered coffee. Ginger and Meagan had raved about Rose’s coffee, but I didn’t understand what I was in for.
The coffee ceremony: Out came a box with an orange and white checkered straw woven mat folded on top. The mat was removed and put on the floor and a small almost cabinet looking thing was underneath it. It was placed on the mat and a tray with cups and saucers was placed atop it. The cups were the size of demi-task cups but without handles and more bowl shaped in that they flared out at the top. Then a small foot by foot square thing was brought out and the room started getting hot. I realized the box was an oven and there were hot coals being fanned through an opening on the side.
A small sauce pan was used to roast the coffee beans and after they were roasted the pan was brought in front of us to smell and appreciate. Then an electric coffee grinder was used and the beans went into a clay pot that was the shape and size of a rounded Bunsen burner with a rounded handle. The top was narrow and maybe an inch in diameter, but after the coffee warmed she would pour back and forth between it and a small pan like those used to froth milk at coffee shops. Ouw (like ouch)-a is the first round of the coffee after the roasting and milk and sugar were added first and then the coffee was poured in the small cups until it almost overflowed. There were what looked like small green reeds sticking out the top of the pot which kept the grinds in. We stirred the sugar in and the cup was so full it did spill over. It was unlike any coffee I have ever had. It was strong but had almost a cinnamon taste and a hot chocolate consistency. Then the second and finally the third and last round, ba-rah-ka (emphasis on ka), were served. For each round the same roasted coffee beans are used and new water is added and it is re-heated over the coals.
This whole process took over an hour and the investment in hospitality here is hard to describe. I thought people were hospitable where I come from, but Ugandans and Eritreans have us beat hands down. Since we have been trying to rack our brains for some equivalent American tradition to reciprocate with but it’s hard. We are making them some banana bread soon, but it’s not really the same social exchange.
The next day I stayed home as Ginger and Meagan went to watch Moses’ soccer team kick butt. I wasn’t feeling well from the previous night when the mixture of grasshoppers, ants, fish soup, and three rounds of Eritrean coffee eventually made me york. I probably get less cool points for not keeping the bugs down, but at least I tried. By the evening I was feeling better so the four of us went to watch the Ugandan Cranes play against Guinnea Bissau. As we arrived and bought our beers at the bar a group of guys blew their air horns to get our attention and then again when we walked away. It was actually hilarious and I’m slowly getting used to most people trying to talk to us because we are such the novelty. It’s annoying when everyone yells to get your attention in markets, but today we heard a new one. A guy yelled at us, “Hello African women! Hello African Americans!” All you can do is shake your head and smile.
I love trash talk here. While watching the game we overheard one guys say “You’re team is insecure.” What a sophisticated smack down! The Cranes won to boot. Earlier that day I had been washing my feet in the tub while in my pjs when the soap made my feet slippery and I slid in the tub when I tried to stand up. Relaying this story made the guys next to us who were covertly eavesdropping spit out their drinks laughing. We got to talking with them and eventually we discussed whether a guy should leave work when he knows his wife/girlfriend is in labor and culturally differences in telling people they are fat and ugly. One guy said in his tribe there is nothing you don’t joke about. When you meet a child you tell them “At least you’re not as ugly as your mother” and earlier Mary told Meagan and I to share a chair because we “Weren’t THAT fat.” She wasn’t joking though
Sunday we went to church with Mary (there should be pics and a video of dancing) and then went to her home where a huge meal was made for us. We convinced Mary we could share two plates between the three of us, but everyone thinks we eat too little because they have one big meal a day. We had to tell them we eat more meals and so less food per meal. We spent the whole day with Mary, her fiancé Henry, her children Julius, Judith, and Judith’s 3 month old baby Shem. He was a great baby and we just fussed on him all day. Judith told me that when women are 30 and unmarried here they are taken to church and prayed for. When they found out I was 28 Julius joked he was waiting to play with my babies like I was playing with Shem. I said I would invite him to play with my babies but that he would have to wait a long time, which everyone laughed at. American and Ugandan humor seems to mesh and unsurprisingly there are many US-Ugandan marriages.
Monday Meagan was sick with a sinus infection. It was sad for her but great for me because I finally ventured out on my own back to Buganda Rd Primary to meet Mary for an observation and to exchange supplies. When I got on the matatu there were two Arabic speaking men who had a friend pay for them and tell the conductor when they were getting off. It was nice not to be the most clueless person on the van. Mary did a great job and when the room she taught in earlier wasn’t available, she taught outside managing about 160 standing students and then managing a change of location when the room became available ten minutes into her lesson. You really have to think on your feet and be confident and encouraging with so many kids. I have a lot of respect for these mentors who are volunteers only compensated for their expenses.
Yesterday I met with a contact at Makerere University and it was a lovely campus and a great visit. Dr. Haroon Sseguya went to school with a professor of mine and we talked all about his work on rural agricultural development, politics, and friends and family. He even showed me lots of pictures on his computer from his fieldwork, graduation, and some of my professor and Meagan laughed that he really was Ugandan because it was the techno version of sharing photo albums which happens a lot here. He gave me some great insights and offered to help me with anything and again I was reminded of how amazing Ugandan hospitality is. I also felt good finding a new place all by myself and I haven’t had anyone grab me to get my attention yet. I don’t know if it’s because I’m taller than most people here (even the men) or if I’ve just been lucky so far. Either way, G&M have done a great job of preparing me for anything.
Today Meagan felt much better after a visit to the SAS clinic so we walked a lot, going to the open air mall called Garden City. I got my own maps and we pow-wowed our research plans over coffee. All the tests are almost graded and we are entering them into a database. We are planning our trips outside of Kampala so we can visit schools in other districts. I’m really excited to see the rural areas of Uganda and this coming week I will just cold call at lots of humanitarian organizations to make connections. It’s not easy to just show up, but that kind of friendly boldness is what I have been trained for so here I go….
June 1st I had my first observation of a SAS mentor in a school. Usually the mentors teach small classes but there is a new push to teach in larger schools, where the classes are 300+. Imagine trying to keep the attention of 300+ 6 year old students for 30-45 minutes. It’s not an easy task but Mary, one of SAS’ best mentors and the woman Ginger and Meagan call their African mother, makes it look easy.
We went to Buganda Rd Primary School and there are pictures up under Ginger’s Picasa account. It is a public government school even though they students wear uniforms and the parents must pay fees. When we arrived the kids flocked Mary’s car and then us as we got out. The kids would walk up to us and then just silently stare while others would play peek-a-boo, shyly running up only to squeal and run back if I looked their way. Many would say hello and ask how I was and yell Mzungu! The ones who had already said hello would come and touch my arm to see what white skin felt like. Mary said it was probably the first time they had spoken to a white person or even seen one. In the classroom the kids got extremely excited about having their pictures taken and they loved seeming themselves in the Polaroid we left with them. By the second class word must have gotten around because when I forgot about the picture, the students loudly said picture! picture!
The next day we went to the SAS office and then another school where the curriculum will move into. It’s really the only program of its kind, focusing on HIV education among primary school students with mentors who are in their classrooms once a week for the whole term. It’s a good thing that it’s so worthwhile because it makes the stacks and stacks of tests we have to grade and then enter into a computer worth it. If you see the pictures of papers on our kitchen table you can get a sense of how much work we’ve been doing. Its taken about 36 working hours to hand grade them and who knows how long to finish the database, but it will be great to know what the students know and don’t know. In one case a teacher was trying to help and graded them herself, but she got one wrong when she made her won key, which shows how important the information is for students and teachers alike.
Enough about our work…the bush crickets here are a delicacy. They are called grasshoppers here but are way bigger than the grasshoppers back home. We asked Grace to try them and ants, which were recommended by a guy we talked to at 1000 cups who was leading a student service/learning program with U of Michigan. Before Grace fried the grasshoppers she called me over to se how fresh they were. So fresh, that one was still moving. “Yup, they’re fresh” I said. I tried one of the ants then and they weren’t bad, especially since they weren’t alive! They tasted like a smoky earthy bacon-y spice. When we had the grasshoppers they tasted alright, but were really crunchy and I didn’t appreciate them as much as Ginger, who was dipping them in ketchup like French fries saying they tasted like soft shell crab.
After we had eaten we went to Rose’s house to say hello. Immediately we were given photo album after photo album of the wedding. It was funny to see ourselves in an Eritrean’s wedding album. Before we knew it a huge meal was brought out even though we said we had just eaten eventually we were offered coffee. Ginger and Meagan had raved about Rose’s coffee, but I didn’t understand what I was in for.
The coffee ceremony: Out came a box with an orange and white checkered straw woven mat folded on top. The mat was removed and put on the floor and a small almost cabinet looking thing was underneath it. It was placed on the mat and a tray with cups and saucers was placed atop it. The cups were the size of demi-task cups but without handles and more bowl shaped in that they flared out at the top. Then a small foot by foot square thing was brought out and the room started getting hot. I realized the box was an oven and there were hot coals being fanned through an opening on the side.
A small sauce pan was used to roast the coffee beans and after they were roasted the pan was brought in front of us to smell and appreciate. Then an electric coffee grinder was used and the beans went into a clay pot that was the shape and size of a rounded Bunsen burner with a rounded handle. The top was narrow and maybe an inch in diameter, but after the coffee warmed she would pour back and forth between it and a small pan like those used to froth milk at coffee shops. Ouw (like ouch)-a is the first round of the coffee after the roasting and milk and sugar were added first and then the coffee was poured in the small cups until it almost overflowed. There were what looked like small green reeds sticking out the top of the pot which kept the grinds in. We stirred the sugar in and the cup was so full it did spill over. It was unlike any coffee I have ever had. It was strong but had almost a cinnamon taste and a hot chocolate consistency. Then the second and finally the third and last round, ba-rah-ka (emphasis on ka), were served. For each round the same roasted coffee beans are used and new water is added and it is re-heated over the coals.
This whole process took over an hour and the investment in hospitality here is hard to describe. I thought people were hospitable where I come from, but Ugandans and Eritreans have us beat hands down. Since we have been trying to rack our brains for some equivalent American tradition to reciprocate with but it’s hard. We are making them some banana bread soon, but it’s not really the same social exchange.
The next day I stayed home as Ginger and Meagan went to watch Moses’ soccer team kick butt. I wasn’t feeling well from the previous night when the mixture of grasshoppers, ants, fish soup, and three rounds of Eritrean coffee eventually made me york. I probably get less cool points for not keeping the bugs down, but at least I tried. By the evening I was feeling better so the four of us went to watch the Ugandan Cranes play against Guinnea Bissau. As we arrived and bought our beers at the bar a group of guys blew their air horns to get our attention and then again when we walked away. It was actually hilarious and I’m slowly getting used to most people trying to talk to us because we are such the novelty. It’s annoying when everyone yells to get your attention in markets, but today we heard a new one. A guy yelled at us, “Hello African women! Hello African Americans!” All you can do is shake your head and smile.
I love trash talk here. While watching the game we overheard one guys say “You’re team is insecure.” What a sophisticated smack down! The Cranes won to boot. Earlier that day I had been washing my feet in the tub while in my pjs when the soap made my feet slippery and I slid in the tub when I tried to stand up. Relaying this story made the guys next to us who were covertly eavesdropping spit out their drinks laughing. We got to talking with them and eventually we discussed whether a guy should leave work when he knows his wife/girlfriend is in labor and culturally differences in telling people they are fat and ugly. One guy said in his tribe there is nothing you don’t joke about. When you meet a child you tell them “At least you’re not as ugly as your mother” and earlier Mary told Meagan and I to share a chair because we “Weren’t THAT fat.” She wasn’t joking though
Sunday we went to church with Mary (there should be pics and a video of dancing) and then went to her home where a huge meal was made for us. We convinced Mary we could share two plates between the three of us, but everyone thinks we eat too little because they have one big meal a day. We had to tell them we eat more meals and so less food per meal. We spent the whole day with Mary, her fiancé Henry, her children Julius, Judith, and Judith’s 3 month old baby Shem. He was a great baby and we just fussed on him all day. Judith told me that when women are 30 and unmarried here they are taken to church and prayed for. When they found out I was 28 Julius joked he was waiting to play with my babies like I was playing with Shem. I said I would invite him to play with my babies but that he would have to wait a long time, which everyone laughed at. American and Ugandan humor seems to mesh and unsurprisingly there are many US-Ugandan marriages.
Monday Meagan was sick with a sinus infection. It was sad for her but great for me because I finally ventured out on my own back to Buganda Rd Primary to meet Mary for an observation and to exchange supplies. When I got on the matatu there were two Arabic speaking men who had a friend pay for them and tell the conductor when they were getting off. It was nice not to be the most clueless person on the van. Mary did a great job and when the room she taught in earlier wasn’t available, she taught outside managing about 160 standing students and then managing a change of location when the room became available ten minutes into her lesson. You really have to think on your feet and be confident and encouraging with so many kids. I have a lot of respect for these mentors who are volunteers only compensated for their expenses.
Yesterday I met with a contact at Makerere University and it was a lovely campus and a great visit. Dr. Haroon Sseguya went to school with a professor of mine and we talked all about his work on rural agricultural development, politics, and friends and family. He even showed me lots of pictures on his computer from his fieldwork, graduation, and some of my professor and Meagan laughed that he really was Ugandan because it was the techno version of sharing photo albums which happens a lot here. He gave me some great insights and offered to help me with anything and again I was reminded of how amazing Ugandan hospitality is. I also felt good finding a new place all by myself and I haven’t had anyone grab me to get my attention yet. I don’t know if it’s because I’m taller than most people here (even the men) or if I’ve just been lucky so far. Either way, G&M have done a great job of preparing me for anything.
Today Meagan felt much better after a visit to the SAS clinic so we walked a lot, going to the open air mall called Garden City. I got my own maps and we pow-wowed our research plans over coffee. All the tests are almost graded and we are entering them into a database. We are planning our trips outside of Kampala so we can visit schools in other districts. I’m really excited to see the rural areas of Uganda and this coming week I will just cold call at lots of humanitarian organizations to make connections. It’s not easy to just show up, but that kind of friendly boldness is what I have been trained for so here I go….
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