As we prepare to board the plane on Wednesday morning, it is impossible to summarize all that we have learned. But our most important goal in visiting the Learning Centre—transformation—was achieved.
Each of us will come home just a little different than when we left. We have new Ugandan names and a new appreciation for how traffic lights prevent total gridlock. We know about tribalism, optimism and human strength. We have fresh appreciation for clean drinking water and for flopping into bed without having to stop and tuck in the mosquito netting.
The project itself has been changed by our visit. We have begun to set up a new governing structure, and added some new members. We have made a connection with Irene Mutumba who is already talking about teaching entrepreneurial courses to help the centre learn about generating income. We are well on our way to having our shipment of boxes released (Trafalgar sent these supplies over 2 years ago).
Perhaps more significantly, all of the people engaged in this visit have been invigorated and encouraged. The local committee is feeling loved and supported. The students are feeling that their ideas matter. And we who are returning to Canada are feeling confident in the sustainable future of Dr. Joyce’s dream for the youth of Masooli.
Our work is not yet finished. We have so many stories to tell when we get back to Trafalgar. Our mission committee will hear a more formal report, as will the presbytery and Presbyterian World Service and Development. We are now able to update our website with new pictures and information, too.
This transformation could not have been achieved without strong and Spirited community. We are grateful for the many, many people whose efforts helped us to get here, and for those who welcomed and cared for us. We are grateful that the Holy One surrounds those of us who care returning to Canada, and those who remain in Uganda. There is still a great deal of work to do.
Are we there yet?
Yes! And we have roads to travel…
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Our Last Supper
The Learning Centre committee hosted a dinner for us the night before we left. We offered our sekoko (turkey) which Anne, despite her reservations about eating a pet, had named “Paul”. They also brought a chicken, and both met their end behind the centre where they had built a fire pit. Instead of cooking over the usual charcoal stoves, they used wood, presumably to give the food a nicer flavour. It burned all day as they cooked almost a dozen different dishes.
The buffet was ready and the guests had assembled by around 8pm. We ate at the tables and chairs usually used for studying, although we had put out two small tablecloths, and Anne and Karin picked some flowers for a vase out of the bottom of a water bottle. It looked quite festive. All the members of the committee were there, including William who had not been able to be at most of the meetings due to work commitments, and Sam who had come from Jinja for the occasion. The staff were there, as was Joyce’s sister Catherine.
After supper the committee all stood in a line and Mrs. Milli Sesenge (chairperson) made a beautiful speech. “I know that all things have a beginning and an end”, she said, “but I refuse to say goodbye.” They gave each of us a parting gift of woven mats, beginning with Tanya. Despite her not being on this trip, she was talked about often and I was regularly asked to thank her when I got home. We were so glad that they honoured her work that way.
By the end, we were a little misty eyed. I said a (very) few words of thanks, noting that my only regret was that Joyce was not there with us. And then we sang the Masooli-Kitettika song. It was the nicest sounding rendition yet. The best part was the men singing, “Are we there yet?” and the women answering, “Yes, and we have roads to travel”. It was a beautiful echo of the conversation that began the song, when Andrew asked the question and Joyce responded.
It was a wonderful ending to our trip. There were many hugs and smiles. Everyone wants to know when we’ll be back again.
“Love one another”, Jesus said at his last supper. And at this one, we did.
The buffet was ready and the guests had assembled by around 8pm. We ate at the tables and chairs usually used for studying, although we had put out two small tablecloths, and Anne and Karin picked some flowers for a vase out of the bottom of a water bottle. It looked quite festive. All the members of the committee were there, including William who had not been able to be at most of the meetings due to work commitments, and Sam who had come from Jinja for the occasion. The staff were there, as was Joyce’s sister Catherine.
After supper the committee all stood in a line and Mrs. Milli Sesenge (chairperson) made a beautiful speech. “I know that all things have a beginning and an end”, she said, “but I refuse to say goodbye.” They gave each of us a parting gift of woven mats, beginning with Tanya. Despite her not being on this trip, she was talked about often and I was regularly asked to thank her when I got home. We were so glad that they honoured her work that way.
By the end, we were a little misty eyed. I said a (very) few words of thanks, noting that my only regret was that Joyce was not there with us. And then we sang the Masooli-Kitettika song. It was the nicest sounding rendition yet. The best part was the men singing, “Are we there yet?” and the women answering, “Yes, and we have roads to travel”. It was a beautiful echo of the conversation that began the song, when Andrew asked the question and Joyce responded.
It was a wonderful ending to our trip. There were many hugs and smiles. Everyone wants to know when we’ll be back again.
“Love one another”, Jesus said at his last supper. And at this one, we did.
Groovin’ on a Sunday Afternoon
After attending the local church on Sunday, we walked to Mr. Lubega’s home. He has invited Karin to stay with his family for another two weeks and is helping arrange a few places where she can teach. Steve, who has appointed himself Karin’s surrogate father, was glad to make an assessment of where she would be staying (he approved).
It is a lovely family home, with the couches that we have been craving (it’s funny what you miss when you are away from home). He has many children (eight of his own plus eight more that he has adopted) so it’s a busy house. They were still doing the dishes from the lavish wedding (they were the caterers) so Anne, Karin and I joined in. Steve, however, went with Mr. Lubega to “do the man-thing” as Karin put it. They surveyed all of his livestock and crops, which were quite impressive, and talked Ugandan politics.
At lunchtime, we sat under a tree to eat. It was very, very warm (we estimated over 40 degrees) and we were all a little sluggish. Not too sluggish to sing, though. The older ladies who were washing dishes asked Karin if we would sing the Masooli Kittetika song for them one more time before we left. Steve and Mr. Lubega were joined by a couple of sons, and Vennie joined Karin, Anne and I for the higher parts. One of the boys grabbed a water jug to add percussion, too. It wasn’t all exactly in tune but it was great fun. Groovin, even.
It is a lovely family home, with the couches that we have been craving (it’s funny what you miss when you are away from home). He has many children (eight of his own plus eight more that he has adopted) so it’s a busy house. They were still doing the dishes from the lavish wedding (they were the caterers) so Anne, Karin and I joined in. Steve, however, went with Mr. Lubega to “do the man-thing” as Karin put it. They surveyed all of his livestock and crops, which were quite impressive, and talked Ugandan politics.
At lunchtime, we sat under a tree to eat. It was very, very warm (we estimated over 40 degrees) and we were all a little sluggish. Not too sluggish to sing, though. The older ladies who were washing dishes asked Karin if we would sing the Masooli Kittetika song for them one more time before we left. Steve and Mr. Lubega were joined by a couple of sons, and Vennie joined Karin, Anne and I for the higher parts. One of the boys grabbed a water jug to add percussion, too. It wasn’t all exactly in tune but it was great fun. Groovin, even.
Eine kleine nachtmusik (A little night music)
The sounds at night are very different here. We are away from the city, and you would think that would mean a great deal of silence. Not so. There are the crickets, as you would expect. But lying in bed we can hear a whole symphony of other noises. All night long.
Not too far down the road (a mile away) there is a dance club called Africa Go Go. It is a very large building, painted bright pink and not surprisingly, they play music quite loudly at night. Louder than that is the radio station that wakes us up in the morning. It is a Lugandan talk show, and why it is broadcast publicly remains a mystery to us. Of course, there are also the conversations that wake us up before dawn. The security guards often feel the need to chat before their 6am departure and the next door neighbours begin their day barking orders to children and livestock.
Those are the human noises. Staying here, we have learned that roosters don’t just crow in the morning. Pigs occasionally get mixed up in the ropes that restrain them and make hysterical squealing noises that Karin says sounds like they are being tormented. Cows nearby moo randomly. Goats bleat sporadically. A cat who lives on this road often wanders by and yowls near the windows.
And how can we forget the dogs? There is a howling chorus of dogs quite often. These are not domesticated Oakville dogs, but feral animals. Their barking is endless, but with emotion. Clearly some of them are looking for love.
The birds here are quite something, too. They sound so different from home. My favourite is the one whose call sounds like a fork banging against a metal pipe. Karin likes the loud squawking ones who sound like monkeys. Anne has noticed what we affectionately call "the backup bird" because it sounds remarkably like a truck beeping when in reverse.
Thankfully, our turkey only poops, which is quiet and doesn’t keep us up at night. Although there is Steve’s daily refrain at bedtime: “Boy, do I smell”.
That’s some kind of night music.
Not too far down the road (a mile away) there is a dance club called Africa Go Go. It is a very large building, painted bright pink and not surprisingly, they play music quite loudly at night. Louder than that is the radio station that wakes us up in the morning. It is a Lugandan talk show, and why it is broadcast publicly remains a mystery to us. Of course, there are also the conversations that wake us up before dawn. The security guards often feel the need to chat before their 6am departure and the next door neighbours begin their day barking orders to children and livestock.
Those are the human noises. Staying here, we have learned that roosters don’t just crow in the morning. Pigs occasionally get mixed up in the ropes that restrain them and make hysterical squealing noises that Karin says sounds like they are being tormented. Cows nearby moo randomly. Goats bleat sporadically. A cat who lives on this road often wanders by and yowls near the windows.
And how can we forget the dogs? There is a howling chorus of dogs quite often. These are not domesticated Oakville dogs, but feral animals. Their barking is endless, but with emotion. Clearly some of them are looking for love.
The birds here are quite something, too. They sound so different from home. My favourite is the one whose call sounds like a fork banging against a metal pipe. Karin likes the loud squawking ones who sound like monkeys. Anne has noticed what we affectionately call "the backup bird" because it sounds remarkably like a truck beeping when in reverse.
Thankfully, our turkey only poops, which is quiet and doesn’t keep us up at night. Although there is Steve’s daily refrain at bedtime: “Boy, do I smell”.
That’s some kind of night music.
A different side of Uganda
We went to a wedding on Saturday (the same family as the kaseki we went to last week). It was quite a lavish affair!
Once again, we found ourselves without appropriate clothes for a formal evening (and thinking that this wasn’t what we expected when we came to Uganda!). The women came to the rescue and provided us with lovely basutis, however, and we found that being in their traditional wear was a big hit with the guests. We were approached by many people who commended us looking “very smart”.
We were taken aback by the lavishness of the decorations. It was an enormous room in a trade centre in Kampala, with fresh flowers on every table (roses and mums and lush greenery), matching table linens, and even white covers for the chairs. Late in the evening they even had a bubble machine and giant sparklers on the dance floor. And we were told there were over 700 guests!
The decorations were not the only surprise. The entertainment lasted all evening, with not just a band, but the legendary Ndere Dance Troupe, who often perform for foreign dignitaries when they visit Uganda. There were several different kinds of African dance, but the one that was most spectacular had women dancing with not just one clay pot, but a stack of six clay pots on their heads. The drummers had giant animal skin drums and were obviously having a great time.
Late in the evening there was an announcement and everyone became very animated. It signaled the arrival of a famous Ugandan pop singer named Juliana Kanyomozi, the Vocalist of the Year here in 2007. She sang five songs, while everyone got up and danced around her. Not only was she a great singer, she had a great sense of humour: she came and danced with Steve on our corner of the dance floor (ha ha).
We were mystified when the bridal couple disappeared midway through the evening, but they soon reappeared in new outfits (the bride had changed from her very Western white wedding gown into a long evening dress). This was apparently for cutting the cake. They disappeared one more time, but that time they emerged with not only the bride and groom in new outfits, but the entire wedding party, including the flower girl in lovely new clothes. This time it was for receiving the gifts, which guests brought forward in a big line.
It was a lovely evening, and we were glad to have been invited. While it seemed light years away from much of our other experiences here, it offered new insight into the culture and traditions of Uganda. Every country has their own rich and poor.
Once again, we found ourselves without appropriate clothes for a formal evening (and thinking that this wasn’t what we expected when we came to Uganda!). The women came to the rescue and provided us with lovely basutis, however, and we found that being in their traditional wear was a big hit with the guests. We were approached by many people who commended us looking “very smart”.
We were taken aback by the lavishness of the decorations. It was an enormous room in a trade centre in Kampala, with fresh flowers on every table (roses and mums and lush greenery), matching table linens, and even white covers for the chairs. Late in the evening they even had a bubble machine and giant sparklers on the dance floor. And we were told there were over 700 guests!
The decorations were not the only surprise. The entertainment lasted all evening, with not just a band, but the legendary Ndere Dance Troupe, who often perform for foreign dignitaries when they visit Uganda. There were several different kinds of African dance, but the one that was most spectacular had women dancing with not just one clay pot, but a stack of six clay pots on their heads. The drummers had giant animal skin drums and were obviously having a great time.
Late in the evening there was an announcement and everyone became very animated. It signaled the arrival of a famous Ugandan pop singer named Juliana Kanyomozi, the Vocalist of the Year here in 2007. She sang five songs, while everyone got up and danced around her. Not only was she a great singer, she had a great sense of humour: she came and danced with Steve on our corner of the dance floor (ha ha).
We were mystified when the bridal couple disappeared midway through the evening, but they soon reappeared in new outfits (the bride had changed from her very Western white wedding gown into a long evening dress). This was apparently for cutting the cake. They disappeared one more time, but that time they emerged with not only the bride and groom in new outfits, but the entire wedding party, including the flower girl in lovely new clothes. This time it was for receiving the gifts, which guests brought forward in a big line.
It was a lovely evening, and we were glad to have been invited. While it seemed light years away from much of our other experiences here, it offered new insight into the culture and traditions of Uganda. Every country has their own rich and poor.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Nobody’s ever given us one of these before
Sophie came by the centre today (Friday). She is leaving to go back to her job at a school about 50 miles away. While school is in session she lives in a boarding facility with other teachers, but she has been at home over the holidays. Also with Sophie was her father, who said he wanted to express his gratitude. We were so glad to meet him, and he understood English so we were able to converse easily.
To thank the Trafalgar community for the way that we helped Sophie (she was the paid librarian for several years, which meant she was able to finish school despite the death of her mother) they brought a gift: a secoco. Sophie brought it in under her arm and set it down on the floor in our living quarters. What is a secoco, you ask? A turkey! And yes, it was still alive.
Sophie showed me how to pick it up and hold it so that I could have my picture take with it. Then Barbara came and took it outside (I only stepped in turkey poop once). She found a rope and tied it up for us before asking, Would we be taking it home to Canada? Sadly, we will have to eat it here, I told her. Which is why Karin and Anne say that I can’t name him.
Oh well, it will taste good. What a great present. We only wish the rest of you were here to help us taste the gratitude.
To thank the Trafalgar community for the way that we helped Sophie (she was the paid librarian for several years, which meant she was able to finish school despite the death of her mother) they brought a gift: a secoco. Sophie brought it in under her arm and set it down on the floor in our living quarters. What is a secoco, you ask? A turkey! And yes, it was still alive.
Sophie showed me how to pick it up and hold it so that I could have my picture take with it. Then Barbara came and took it outside (I only stepped in turkey poop once). She found a rope and tied it up for us before asking, Would we be taking it home to Canada? Sadly, we will have to eat it here, I told her. Which is why Karin and Anne say that I can’t name him.
Oh well, it will taste good. What a great present. We only wish the rest of you were here to help us taste the gratitude.
Schemeit be lost
On the afternoon we left Canada, my friend Will called. He said, “Here’s my advice: if you have the chance to do something while you’re in Uganda, and you are wavering about whether or not to do it, go for it. You’ll never get another chance”. Well, we took Will’s advice today!
On our way home from Kampala with Vennie, Anne, Karin and I took a short trip on the boda-boda (motorcycles for hire)! Since it was only on the back roads (not on city streets) it was quite tame. I suspect the drivers went really slowly on purpose (we are Buzungus, after all). We rode side saddle, hanging on with our left hand, and putting our right foot on the footrest.
It all went marvellously smoothly…until Karin’s driver, who was at the front of all four boda-bodas, took a wrong turn! Mr. Sekebembe, who just happened to be nearby, flagged us down and told alerted us. Vennie and her driver went racing after them. A chase ensued, and Karin says that she had begun to think, “Is this the right way?”. Finally, Vennie finally caught up with Karin and turned them around again.
Mr. Sekebembe smiled and waved as they drove past one more time. And we were all still laughing when we reached the centre safe and sound. Thanks, Will.
On our way home from Kampala with Vennie, Anne, Karin and I took a short trip on the boda-boda (motorcycles for hire)! Since it was only on the back roads (not on city streets) it was quite tame. I suspect the drivers went really slowly on purpose (we are Buzungus, after all). We rode side saddle, hanging on with our left hand, and putting our right foot on the footrest.
It all went marvellously smoothly…until Karin’s driver, who was at the front of all four boda-bodas, took a wrong turn! Mr. Sekebembe, who just happened to be nearby, flagged us down and told alerted us. Vennie and her driver went racing after them. A chase ensued, and Karin says that she had begun to think, “Is this the right way?”. Finally, Vennie finally caught up with Karin and turned them around again.
Mr. Sekebembe smiled and waved as they drove past one more time. And we were all still laughing when we reached the centre safe and sound. Thanks, Will.
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