Ugandan Adventures – Take 2

Monday, June 24, 2013

Well, I haven’t even reached Jinja yet, and I’ve already got bug bites – thank you hot and humid last night in Chicago. Fingers crossed I’ll be mostly spared the remainder of my trip. :D On a more serious note, leaving for Uganda was much harder this time than I anticipated. The most obvious reason being the amazing friends and loved ones I’m leaving behind. But as with all things, time will pass and I’ll forget all about them – just kidding! Time will pass and we’ll all be back together again. But until that time comes, I am extremely happy to be going back to my African home to see and work with my surrogate family!!!

The stories for this great adventure started early, at O’Hare Int’l Airport and the baggage check. Hopping into a relatively short line Joshua and I thought, ‘this won’t take long at all.’ Eh, not so much. Despite having to wait for what seemed like quite a while we were given some good entertainment; entertainment in the form of a small, mischievous boy. Forget running around, not listening to your parents. This kid was running around between various attempts (most successful) of climbing on top of the luggage scale and peering around the corner at the Lufthansa employees working behind the desk.

Finally the mom managed to block his way to the scale but it wasn’t without GREAT effort on his part.

Fast forward to the middle of my first plane ride (destination – Frankfurt, Germany)

The flight attendants are pushing a cart down the aisle collecting dinner trays and who should come strolling up behind them? The little hell raiser from the baggage check back in Chicago! Being a kid and not knowing better, he tries to squeeze past.

Attendant #1 – “Just a minute”

He tries to squeeze by.

Attendant #1 – “Wait just a minute please.”

Still not listening, he makes another attempt to pass through.

Clearly asking him to wait is out of the question. After a quick conversation with Attendant #2 on the opposite side of the cart, Attendant #1 bends down, picks up the boy, and passes him over the cart to her coworker who then sets him down on the other side. Unfazed, the kid takes off only to be seen running around the plane multiple times later, a family member chasing behind.

Airport – Frankfurt, Germany

Not too much excitement here, other than 30 minutes of free internet and a few hours of waiting for the second leg of my trip to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The flight there was barely noteworthy (shocker). I slept most of the way which was nice and was elbowed intermittently throughout the whole flight by the lady sitting next to me.

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – Airport

Very. Confusing. Perhaps I was just thrown off from sleep, lack thereof, or the time change, but figuring out where I needed to be in this place was not easy, or obvious . . . at all. Eventually I was able to find someone to help me, learning that I was in the wrong terminal and needed to catch the bus to the correct location. However, multiple busses came and went only allowing passengers off and on rare occasion a select few on. Eventually though, I got on a bus and made it to my gate to wait for my final flight of the trip.

I knew I was definitely in Africa when I got sandwiched by two men heading to Entebbe as well, and one of them eventually asked for my contact information.

Him - “Do you have a card?”

Me – “No”

Him – “Do you have a phone?”

Me – “no” (well technically yes, but I didn’t know the number and certainly wasn’t going to give it to this random person)

Him – “ok, well why don’t I give you my number so you can call me?”

Me – “ok, sure” (‘that will never happen’)   - and time to get on the plane.

The last flight was short and other than everyone’s baggage taking ridiculously long to appear, everything went smoothly. Customs were a breeze and my ride was waiting for me when I came out. I finally reached the house around 3:30am on the 26^th.

Now we wait and see what new adventures unfold…

Much Overdue Sewing Class Report

As if you hadn't already noticed, I'm a total slacker. That is why I am just now - an entire month later - filling you in on the great things that took form during my Beginning Sewing Class teacher training with Margaret and Sarah.

In case you forgot, my last post on the topic was all about the first class and how awesome it went. From that early success I had great plans and ideas forming on how I would continue on with each lesson. Little did I know that absolutely none of these early plans would actually work out. But that's ok - I can improvise! (That's Margaret showing one of our 'students', Eva, how to hand sew a whip stitch - fyi -->)

The rest of the 8-hours a day, 2-days a week, 6-week long training went a little something like the following. The first 3 weeks I played teacher; Sarah and Margaret following along in their curriculum books as 'students'. This was actually a really good way of introducing them to the material they (once done with training) will be expected to know and be able to teach. It also allowed me to show them the best ways of presenting certain information or demonstrating new techniques.

It wasn't until the last 3 weeks of the lesson that I was truly able to see how much Margaret and Sarah had absorbed and actually listened to. This is because these were their sink or swim weeks - they had to teach by themselves, alternating lessons. And they had to teach it to students that I brought in. The idea behind this was not only to make sure that they would teach each lesson exactly as it is written in the curriculum (this in itself was a BIG concern), but also to make sure that when translated into whatever language would be used for class the content still made sense - and if not, we could work together to fix it. (There's no way they can deny having at least a little bit of fun during our training - I've got proof! -->)

These final weeks proved to be the most entertaining. My friend Alex agreed to help out translating each lesson for me as well as sit as a 'student' (Note Alex proudly modeling a sample skirt I had made for the class which he continued to wear in public while we got lunch) along with a FOM friend, Eva. I was overcome with 'momma bear' pride during the first solo lessons Margaret and Sarah taught. They really were listening!!!! I was beaming and couldn't have been more pleased. However, it wasn't always smooth sailing - particularly when it became apparent that one or both of them hadn't fully grasped some of the concepts we'd gone over in the weeks before. But all in all the training as a whole went very well (especially for my first solo training ever and not knowing what I was doing)!

Completing the training however did not secure a teaching job offer for either Sarah or Margaret. That depended on the completion of the required technique sewing samples as well as 4 sample projects we went over during class. This was the part that made me VERY nervous. It would be such a shame for these ladies to go through the whole training - and prove their abilities - but not be able to gain a certificate for the training or acquire further contracts with Fount of Mercy because they didn't complete their homework. Seriously, this seemingly minor detail had me on the edge of my seat routing for my students as they, pretty close to literally, raced against the clock to get their work done.

When 5pm Friday, February 24th -the deadline to turn in all samples- rolled around would I be filled with success or disappointment? Well let's just say I was the happiest fake teacher in all of Uganda walking home with bulging tote bags full of samples to grade.

Our training wrap-up and graduation ceremony was set for the following Tuesday, February 28th - the day I would officially acknowledge all of the hard work these two amazing women had put into the class the past 6 weeks as well as the day I would leave Uganda. Talk about bitter sweet. We presented certificates, talked about Sarah and Margaret's individual strengths and weaknesses and then had lunch. It was a great day and an even greater honor to say I was able to work with Nalongo Sarah and Achom Margaret, two of the most amazing, hard-working, determined women I have ever had the privilege to meet.

Politics in Jinja Town

Political elections stir up trouble virtually everywhere in the world, and the Ugandan small town of Jinja is no exception. Throughout my time here I’ve heard about the riots that commonly accompany political elections and the entertaining stories that go along with them – at least to an unseasoned third party like me. So you can imagine my excitement and intrigue when I heard a few months back that there would be a re-election for Jinja’s MP due to accusations that the winning party didn’t have the papers needed (or probably more likely, wanted) to document his education.

Election Day was set for Thursday, February 9^th with the results to be announced that evening. In the days leading up to the election this week there was enough busy anticipation to help even the dullest of individuals clue into what was about to take place. The most obvious sign was the numerous, and seemingly spontaneous, parades that marched down main street. Monday kicked things off in the morning with a substantial chunk of the Ugandan army marching down the street wielding not only guns, but large leafy branches as well. Tuesday was peppered with parades made up of cars, music, and woman wearing banana fiber outfits, finished off by one of the election candidates waving to the crowds from the back of a truck bed in which he stood talking on the phone. Huge masses of people swarming to the court house also caused quite a commotion throughout the day. Wednesday surprised me, with virtually no disturbances at all and before you knew it it was the big day, February 9^th.

The day started off just like any other Thursday morning, however it ended very differently than your average weekday. At around 3pm my friend Liza and I were headed down Main Street, me to the office and her to talk with a local crafter. However, about 10 minutes after Liza left me she reappeared in the doorway “Sarah they’re going to set off tear gas at 4pm. We need to be out of town before then.”

“What?! I always miss the good stuff! Can’t we LEAVE at 4??” My response was a very stern NO, which is good otherwise I could have been in a VERY bad situation later.

As we quickly made a stop at the supermarket so I could make a hasty purchase of dinner ingredients Liza peppered me with questions in a “I told you so” sort of way - “Look how empty the streets are now, isn’t it weird?” “It’s so quiet out now, don’t you notice it?” - But I didn’t really feel, or see rather, the severity of the situation until she pointed out the huge police trucks. Two giant armored trucks were parked across the road, each filled with soldiers ready to release tear gas at any given moment. There were also swarms of soldiers on the ground, rerouting traffic and just making their presence known in general. This was definitely a different Jinja than I walked into this morning.

“Ok, now I guess I’m glad we decided to leave when we did,” I reluctantly admitted. . . but I still wish I could have seen some of that action that took place that night . . .

Apparently things didn’t get really heated until around 9pm. Tear gas was being set off all up and down Main Street as unruly citizens – undoubtedly reacting to an unsatisfactory election outcome – began throwing rocks and large pieces of wood at policemen, cars parked on the street, and probably anything else that they could potentially cause damage to. From the eyewitness accounts I’ve heard it sounded like a crazy night and I’m glad Liza made me leave when she did . . . just in case.

A Not-so-Typical Saturday Afternoon

It has become the relative tradition at Plot 33 that every few weekends or so, we all pile in the van to go swimming. Yesterday was one of those days. Please enjoy a stroll through my Saturday in pictures.

The most eye catching thing I saw there was this girl's makeshift swimming cap. Note: It's a hood - man, people can be resourceful!

After we left the pool it was off to the supermarket to pick up some things for dinner. But along the way we saw a tiny little puppy crawling around near a dumpster. After a few minutes of debating whether or not it belonged to someone and coming to the conclusion that it did not (due to many sightings of the dog in the same place) we turned around in attempts to save it - i.e. take it to a woman we knew would care for it. Once we reached the dumpster Lori, Tara, Edith and Timmy hopped out to assist with the rescue . . . here puppy . . .
Meanwhile a trash bird stalked from a nearby roof, ready to swoop in should something 'tasty' catch his eye . . .
The puppy coaxing continued and soon the team was joined by a local woman who just happened to stop by to dump her garbage . . . I'm sure she never imagined to see anything like this . . . or help with it for that matter!
A lot of people slowed down their gait to get a good look as they passed by. This random guy decided to stop entirely to watch the big ordeal . . .
From the van the rest of us watched with searching eyes, eager to see the little pup.
Finally they got her! Thanks in large part to the woman in blue . . . it would have taken MUCH longer without her help . . .
Aww, what a cute little puppy . . .

Once in the car we tried to come up with good names for the little lady. My personal favorites were Trash Puppy . . .
and Dumpster Dog. Needless to say, Lori didn't like those names so much . . .After arriving at the puppy's new home Lori prepares to hand the little darling over . . .
But not before one last picture :)
What started out as a normal Saturday swimming day turned into something much more interesting. Fount of Mercy: Dog Rescue? Looks like we may have added a new service to our organizational offerings . . . haha

New Year, New Ventures . . . well, sort of – Beginning Sewing Class, here we come!

Happy New Year! With the start of a new year comes the start of new experiences, my first taking the form of three ½” thick, 100+ page copies of my completed Beginning Sewing Class curriculum. What type of new experience does this infer, exactly? Training, teacher training – and I am the one training the teachers. ‘What? Sarah, I didn’t know you were a teacher!’ – I’m sure you’re all thinking. Yeah, neither did I. Then again I didn’t know I was a curriculum writer either. But seeing as I did write all of the lessons it makes sense that I would be the most qualified member of FOM to train our future teachers how to teach the class.

In a previous post I mentioned that Sarah would be trained as our teacher for the Beginning Sewing Class. Since that post we have added on a second teacher to be trained, a woman named Margaret, and I am very excited about the idea of her teaching the course! She is so open to learning new skills and making sure that the work she does is correct (even if it means taking something apart to do it again the right way) I know she will be a great leader to teach this course. I’ve only met with her twice (as of today) and I am already very fond of her.

Today was the first day of our 6-week, bi-weekly teacher trainings and I am absolutely THRILLED about how well it went! Not only did we fly through the first five lessons AND first project, but Sarah and Margaret have already given me a ton of useful feedback that will help me to finalize the course so it is 100% ready to be taught to groups by the time I leave in late February.

To be quite honest I was a bit nervous/anxious about teaching the first few lessons. This was mostly due to the fact that they are focused on getting to know a treadle sewing machine and maintenance which, seeing as I’ve only tried to use a treadle sewing machine once in my life (just a few months ago) and very unsuccessfully, I can easily say practical application in these areas is not my strong suite. Despite the uncertainty of my abilities to adequately teach these lessons everything went smoothly. Margaret and Sarah helped me with everything I wasn’t sure of and we all learned new things in the process. I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome!

Tomorrow it’s back to the office early for another full day of training. This time however, instead of me teaching the whole lesson we are all going to take turns teaching, each presenting a different section, as a way to gradually get Sarah and Margaret used to teaching the lessons on their own. By the end of the training the lessons should be a piece of cake for these women, each being able to teach any and all lessons on their own with perfection and ease.

So what’s next once the Beginning Sewing Class preparations wrap up and the class is ready for its public debut? Writing intermediate and advanced sewing classes, of course! I volunteered to work with Fount writing these courses after I return to the US. It’s my goal that these classes will provide students with the knowledge and skills needed to become not just competent tailors, but the best at what they do. I hope that after all is said and done completing the vocational sewing sequence offered will allow each student to imagine, design, and construct original pieces that will showcase their skills, attract a large customer base, and of course, help them improve the lives of themselves and their families financially, physically, and emotionally.

Angela

Yesterday I was just starting on my way home from a day at the office when I saw my new acquaintance, Angela, at her shop a few stores down from The Source (the café our office is connected to/in back of). I had spotted her on my walk to the office earlier that day, but she was busy helping a customer so I didn’t say hi. I did however, notice her protruding belly. I had no idea she was pregnant! I was racking my brain trying to figure out how I could have missed that fact all the times I had passed by throughout the previous months. So naturally, when I stopped to chat for a bit later in the day I brought it up saying, “I didn’t know you were pregnant!” and immediately wished I hadn’t when the response I received started with, “I’m not.” OH. NO. PLEASE tell me that didn’t just happen!! I did not just insult this woman, did I? Please say no, please say no, please say no – I think to myself as I’m internally executing a GIANT forehead slap while inserting my foot in my mouth.

It isn’t until after Angela finishes her reply that I wish with all my heart I could have just insulted her, or better yet, not have said anything at all. What could possibly be bad enough to make me wish I had insulted someone I don’t know very well?? Learning that Angela was indeed pregnant earlier this month, having given birth on the 10^th, and then finding out that her child was dead when it came out, that’s what. Apparently she was way late in delivering, going 10 months! About two weeks before giving birth she went to the hospital for abdominal pains and was sent away, having just been given pain pills. I couldn’t believe my ears! I felt terrible about unintentionally bringing up such a devastating topic, especially because this was Angela’s first child. What a horrible first experience! Unfortunately Angela’s situation and situations similar are quite common in Uganda. This is a hard concept for me to wrap my mind around, coming from a mindset and culture that never expects children to die before reaching adulthood.

After steering away from that topic as fast as possible and offering my heartfelt condolences I found out some interesting things about Angela as well as how tough life here can really be. I would like to share that with you now, so for the rest of this post, welcome to Angela’s World.

Angela is the oldest of 6 children and just 1 of over 20. What does this mean exactly? Her dad has 4 wives. Between the four of them they have over 20 offspring. I asked Angela if she knew all of them. She said she did but some I guess were (for whatever reason) sort of shunned from their particular family so she’s only met those siblings at events such as burials – you know the really uplifting things (that’s total sarcasm right there, in case you were concerned). If hearing of four wives wasn’t enough to increase the size of my eyes, then 20+ children would certainly do the job. I can’t even imagine that situation. Would it be weird meeting these other siblings that were not the fruit of your own mother? Maybe it would be like meeting cousins, you’re related but it’s not like you’re expected to be best friends or anything . . .

I also asked her if she had a good Christmas, somehow forgetting about the previously discussed tragedy, and despite that unfortunate event she told me she had a very nice, relaxing holiday. Probably because Christmas and Boxing Day were the first days off Angela has had since the last nationally celebrated holiday. That’s right, the first days off; meaning she works 7 days a week, 11-12 hours a day for sometimes months on end. I can’t even imagine doing that. I don’t know if I would physically be able to endure that exhaustion. But somehow Angela manages to, and has for almost 4 years. Being able to do that alone makes you pretty incredible in my book, but being able to work day after day for months straight while you’re pregnant makes you look darn near superhuman. If you ask me, Angela is amazing. Period.

The rest of our visit was filled with stories of the funny or strange things she has seen while sitting at her shop all day (such as a big group of muzungus running away down the street as fast as they could to escape tear gas dispensed to break up an election riot. Man, how I wish I could have seen that…) as well as an update/rundown of the election and political situation currently in existence. She told me there are going to be more elections in Feb. so if I’m lucky I might get to see a riot! My words, not hers - and while I know I shouldn’t WANT to see a riot, I just can’t help it, so I guess we’ll see what happens in a few short months.

I asked her if she gets bored sitting in her shop all day sometimes waiting quite a long time for customers and she replied with a resounding affirmative. Then, before I left she told me that I made her day because if I hadn’t stopped by and talked for a few hours she would have been so bored just sitting there quiet. I’m glad that I was able to make her day better, even if it was just by talking for a bit. I’m definitely going to be making that a habit now, if I can help it. I told her I’d try to stop by more if I get bored – I hope she doesn’t get sick of me!

Topic Mishmash

Wow, it’s been quite a while since my last post, whoops. Because of that I’ll give a rundown of what’s been going on as of late.

1. The first and most exciting thing that has happened is Annet had her baby on December 10th!!! A little girl named, wait for it . . . Lori! Coincidence? No, not at all. Now, that family has a baby Tara and a baby Lori, and, according to Annet’s sister Viola, I’m next! Haha we’ll see how that one plays out.

2. The beginning sewing class lessons I’ve been working on are almost finished!!! I’m now in the editing process and trying to finish by the end of the month so things are ready to start training Nalongo Sarah as the teacher in January. AND if our timeline works out as we’ve planned, fingers crossed, we’ll get to start up a small class before I leave so I’ll at least get to see a few lessons actually take form! I’m very excited about that prospect and hope it all works out.

3. Tara, Lori, and I have recently discovered that we have what could be considered a Fount of Mercy soap opera plot on our hands. Needless to say the evolution and discussion of the topic makes for a very entertaining time.

4. I’ve been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a minority over here. Usually, when I think about the term ‘minority’ I think about a group of people that, obviously, are different than the majority of the population they’re in and because of it are treated differently. I think subconsciously I’ve always associated discrimination with minorities because that’s the situation I’ve grown up hearing about. My brief time here however has shown me that being a Muzungu (white person), particularly a Muzungu woman, in Uganda, or at least Jinja, doesn’t hold quite the same results or situations as it would a different minority. Rather than being shunned or terrorized, we face a different type of discrimination – being singled out as a form of favoritism as opposed to prejudice. Or at least that has been my personal experience.

For example, a few weeks ago Lori and I went to the baptism of Viola’s youngest son deep in the village of Iganga. We were the only Muzungus there and they had us sit in the very front, help cut the cake, etc even though we had no relation whatsoever to the family. And apparently that sort of thing happens to Muzungus quite frequently.

5. My first Christmas in Uganda was great! In the morning I went with Lori to her church and enjoyed a short play as well as a song/dance performance of various Christmas carols with an African spin. After a nice leisurely walk home in the relatively hot sun we began to cook as well as entertain two little Indian kids I’d never met before. A few hours later Tara and her family returned from visiting family in the nearby village of Luanda and we opened gifts together. Once we were finished we stuffed our faces with the delicious food we made and then enjoyed a little after-dinner entertainment playing the home-made version of Twister I made for Timmy and Edith. Now THAT was entertaining! But the most remarkable thing about our holiday was the fact that the power didn’t go out once!!!