PARTY TIME!

(photo: Monica giving me a present, dancing ) For anyone who has never
experienced a Ugandan party, here is the basic program of events:

1) If you are the guest of honor, you sit in your appointed chair for
hours as your guests assemble.
2) The Master of Ceremonies opens the party.
3) Someone leads the opening prayer.
4) Dancing
5) Taking of Warangi/Beer
6) Speech
7) Dinner
8) Speech
9) Speech
10) Speech
11) Speech
12) Speech

And then I left, but I assume there were more speeches. SO MANY
SPEECHES. The occasion was fourfold for the party. First, it was my
birthday. Second, it was the birthday of 1-year old Veronica. Third,
Ashley was visiting. Fourth, LUGADA wanted to celebrated that "God had
spared the life of these young girls when they were far from home:
their mothers would not like them to die in Africa."

The speeches were touching, hilarious and very eloquent. The
Naggombwas gave me a terrific gift and also provided a wonderful gift
for my mother in America. The dancing was probably best....

The party was definitely in contrast to the FSD party last night.
Every time we gather, I'm struck by the terrifying amounts of alcohol
my colleagues can rapidly consume.
Very sustainable.

I Should Probably Never Leave Uganda

(Of the photos: Decency and tact prevent me from naming one "Motel
Rwanda"...but I'll just leave that there.)

I left Uganda for two days last weekend and went to Rwanda with two
other interns, Jenny and Ashley. Even though the trip was less than
successful, I'm glad I went to Rwanda. By leaving Uganda, I'm able to
compare it to other nations in the region and understand why exactly I
love this ridiculous country.

Sure, Rwanda has paved roads and delicious French food. Yes, Rwandan
boda drivers wear uniforms and have helmets. Kigali does follow a
traditional city plan and i24-hour supermarkets…but other than these
developments, Rwanda? Not that great. First of all, Rwanda is
preposterously expensive. Our hostel room in Kabale, Uganda was 5,000
shilling a night (about 2.50). The hostel was located in a museum and
was positively the greatest place I have ever stayed. It was clean,
well-decorated, contained a replica Bakiga village and we received a
free guided tour and entry to the museum with our 5,000 shilling! The
food was awesome, the people were friendly…a good place.

Contrast: The only room we could find in Kigali was 30 USD a night,
had one bed and did not have a museum in the hotel. Not that great.

Sure, we did go out and eat terrific food and enjoy the
well-maintained roads. We even had a very posh cocktail hour at Hotel
des Milles Collines. But all in all, Rwanda is quite inferior to
Uganda. We didn't feel overwhelmingly welcomed or praised: in two
days, not a single person asked to marry me. Innocent, our cab
driver, told me that he finds Rwandans hard-hearted and unwelcoming.
I'm trying to reconcile Rwandan history with my opinion of the
society, but really, I much prefer Ugandan society.

Upon our return to Uganda, we heartily told the border guards how much
we love Uganda and how it is a truly superior country. They cheerfully
agreed and let us into the country, even though Jenny lost her
inoculation card. We continued our effusive praise for Uganda to our
cab driver, who generally agreed that Uganda is a very wonderful
place.

List of Reasons Why We Love Uganda

1. Fanta Passion: This amazing beverage does not exist anywhere else.
How can the US consider itself a developed nation when it lacks such a
basic necessity as Fanta Passion?
2. Affordability! Rwanda was absolutely ridiculously expensive.
Imagine spending 10 USD on coffee and a sandwich. Am I still in
Africa?
3. Nile Special. Uganda's local beer. 300 mL, 5.6% alcohol and a nice,
smooth taste. Moreover, I have never been hit in the face with a Nile
Special whereas Rwanda's local beer, Primus, has indeed hit me in the
face. It was unpleasant.
4. Better drivers.
5. Better music! Ugandans understand that Celine Dion, Backstreet
Boys, ABBA and Beyonce are far superior than random Swahili artists.
Rwandan music? Not that great.
6. Celebrity! I felt that half of Rwanda (or at least half of Kigali)
was white. We saw white families, white children, white people doing
their grocery shopping…what are all these white people doing in
Rwanda? In Uganda (especially in Nyendo), we can enjoy our celebrity
status and not have to share it with an expat community.
The list could go on about things specific to Nyendo/Masaka, but after
our car accident in Rwanda, I really just wanted to go home to my
family in Nyendo. I sat in the middle of a dirt road in Rwanda, three
kilometers from Akagera, clutching a bloody towel and honestly just
wishing I could be back in Uganda.

I can't believe I have to leave in a week. Not only do I have a
preposterous amount of work to finish in 4 days, but I'm really going
to miss all of my new friends and family!!

Mission Accomplished-ish

Workshop: Mostly Successful!!

(The photo is one of the small-groups writing out ways they can make
LUGADA stronger. I'm holding a member's baby so she could serve as
secretary for the group)

I think it is a safe assessment to venture that yesterday's workshop
was successful. The objective of the workshop was to teach about
LUGADA's revolving fund and how to borrow and repay money. We also
lead a brief discussion about LUGADA's mission and role in the
community. I just finished comparing the pre- and post-workshop
surveys and by all accounts, the attendees did learn how to apply for
and repay the loan and most of them were able to write one sentence
about LUGADA's mission.
Educationally, the workshop was a success. Socially, it was fun and
we all enjoyed visiting and eating Auntie Norah's catering.
Organizationally, it was a very Ugandan workshop. We said the
workshop would start at 8:30, knowing full well it would start at 10
at the earliest. I hoped an early start time would motivate people to
arrive. Unfortunately, the early start time didn't motivate my
supervisor, who wasn't ready to leave until 9. We didn't arrive at the
center until 9:30. A few minor crises were resolved early (the power
was out, but then quickly returned, our expert canceled but Florence
found another…), but larger problems remained throughout the day. We
were expecting 30 attendees, but one entire group forgot and didn't
show up until 2 and another group never showed up at all. We started
the workshop at noon with 20 attendees and ended with about 25
attendees.
The expert was a friend of Florence's and was, by profession, a
microfinance trainer. Unfortunately, his only knowledge of revolving
funds came from a 1963 textbook published by the UN where the
definition did not match our revolving fund. He didn't want to listen
and was constantly interrupting me, arguing that our fund was destined
to fail because we don't require spousal agreements or enormous
collaterals. The expert didn't seem to understand that this was a
workshop for extremely poor women who had nothing to offer for
collateral and only two of them had spouses.
Other than these frustrations, the workshop went over well. Another
FSD intern rented me her organization's space and was a tremendous
asset to the overall process. The small-group work yielded really
terrific response and answers. We asked the groups two questions: 1)
How can we strengthen our identity as LUGADA? And 2) What are
income-generating activities that could use the revolving fund? The
responses were great and I'm going to implement the suggestions before
I leave. Group visits (Ddembe Women's Group visiting Nazareth
Orphanage) and more frequent meetings are easy to arrange.
I leave in a little more than two weeks, but have severely limited
work time. Two days will be spent in Rwanda, one day will be a grant
presentation in Kampala for CIDA (Canada International Development
Association), one day is a birthday party; at least three days are
spent teaching English at the school…that's more than half of my
remaining work days. I also want to finish teaching Florence
PowerPoint and MS Publisher and help her set up adult literacy
trainings for the fall. If FSD grant is awarded to LUGADA, I should
find out today or tomorrow.

Dear FSD,
Please accept my grant.
Regards,
Namugwera

Chapatti Time is Work Time

Working Values?

One of my continual stresses with working for LUGANDA is the feeling
that I'm not taken seriously. I resolved this stress yesterday. It's
not that I personally am not taking seriously—LUGADA listens to my
concerns and my suggestions and pays attention to my proposals, but
everything other than work is taken more seriously.
Yesterday, I had planned to spend the day preparing for our workshop
on Thursday. My facilitator and I were to go shopping for materials,
plan the catering menu and make sure that all the members have been
mobilized to attend and bring their groups.
"Yes, yes," said Florence. "That is fine. But today you will learn to
make chapatti."
"Maybe another day," I answered. "We have lots of work to do. We must
meet with the microfinance expert, maybe go to the site, type all the
papers…"
"No, today is the best day."
I had expressed a desire to learn to make chapatti about three weeks
ago and my host organization made a list of Things Sarah Must Do
Before Leaving Uganda. I love that they made me this list and I love
that this list has about fifty things on it and cannot possibly be
completed. But yesterday really didn't seem like an ideal time to fry
tortillas. It seemed like a better time to organize a workshop on
microfinance.
Florence showed me that we could do both. We built a fire and put the
grill in the courtyard, right outside the office building. I learned
to make chapatti from the local expert and in between steps,
disappeared inside to meet with the microfinance expert who didn't
seem to find this arrangement strange.
My organization is run by a family and the personal/professional line
dissolved in my first week. My facilitator is also my adopted mother
and she believes it is far more important for me to learn to make
chapatti, visit a community member, meet her uncle or attend a Bible
recitation contest than it is for me to create information packets on
microfinance. I fought this the first six weeks of my internship, but
I'm pretty cool with it now. The work will eventually get done. I'm a
little concerned that the workshop is still very up in the air, but I
think I have a much stronger community experience than other Masaka
interns.

My Ugandan Animals!

The day I started work, a stray cat in the area had a litter of kittens inside our compound. The mama cat has mostly disappeared and slowly, each of her baby kittens started slowly...disappearing also. Ugandans absolutely do not keep pets: any animals have a specific function. If a family does keep a dog, the dog is there for security. Cats eat rats and other vermin. Above all, pets are not cute or adorable.  They are useful and quite possibly edible.
My colleagues found my fascination with the kittens endearing and hilarious. As soon as I realized that the kittens were being quietly exterminated, I immediately claimed one as my cat and offered him all the benefits of my protection. First, I gave him a name.
What name do you give to a semi-feral African cat whose life is in constant danger? Easy. Barack Obama.  I have a theory that my colleagues will be less inclined to kill a creature that shares a name with their favorite person/topic of conversation.
Every day at work, I put down my bag, greet my grandmother and then search for the cat. Sometimes he has been locked in a closet or trapped under a piece of wood since the night before, but I can usually locate him by his tiny, pathetic meowing noises. Poor Barack. I feed him scraps from my tea and lunch and he gobbles them enthusiastically while my colleagues laugh helplessly. Imagine! Feeding a cat! Banage.

Yesterday, I was working on my laptop and Barack fell asleep ontop of the charger. My boss walks in. "Ach! Sarah! Your cat is dead!"
"No, Aunt Florence. My cat is sleeping."
"Oh. Too bad!"

Poor cat. I hope that when I leave, they take care of him in honor of me. I don't think this will be the case.


I also sort of acquired a dog during a very bizarre adventure on Monday. I was leaving work a few minutes early to go to Zach's birthday party in Nsendya, a small village up in the hills. My boda driver spoke no English, but I was assured that he knew this village well. We drive for about ten minutes and he drops me off at a farm. My friend Kasozi walks out- Kasozi is an employe of my organization.
"Sarah!" he yells. "Where have you been? I have been waiting!" I apologized, saying I've been at work and I hadn't realized we had an appointment, and where are we?
"We are at my house," he explains. "I need you to baptize my dog."
Um.....okay. Kasozi was so serious about the urgent need for me to baptize his dog that I couldn't even laugh. We walked to the doghouse, where I solemnly christened the dog Michael Jackson and fed him a banana.

Apparently Kasozi knew my boda driver and had asked him to go get me from work because his dog desperately needed to be baptized. Oh well. Crazy boda drivers.

The photo I attached is of Barack sharing my morning tea. There was a time in my life when I would have hesitated to share tea with a feral African kitten.

Sarah V. Nile: A Draw

I had the intention of conquering the Nile this weekend, but after 3
days of adventures getting to Jinja, rafting the Nile, making endless
puns about the Nile/denial, returning to Masaka and still, after 3
days, coughing up the Nile River, I concede a draw.
The day I went rafting had an inauspicious start. Our bus was so late
that we didn't have adequate time for a full safety briefing. Our
guide, Charles the Prince of the Nile (not Prince of Denial. The joke
really, really does not translate between English and Luganda), began
our session with the following: "Okay, so we have no time for safety
briefing. So we will learn as we go, yes? Yes." Our first rapid was a
Cat3, then a Cat5 and then….well, I speak enough Luganda to recognize
certain words. So when Charles stared at our raft and then shouted
Luganda gibberish and the word kwabaka, I was incredibly concerned.
Tesia, Zach, Jenny and myself shared a Look.
Kwabaka: Luganda for to burst or explode.
Our boat was punctured when we hit the rocks on a Category 3 and
Prince bluntly told us the raft would not survive the next Category 5.
His bluntness, Ugandan sense of humor, lack of concern for our nerves
would cause problems throughout the day but I was definitely somewhat
concerned with our imminently capsizing raft. We got out and carried
the raft for a bit until we met the replacement. So a sunken raft
started the day.
Prince motivated us through fear and used his authority to terrify us
all day. Examples? During lunch break, we removed our lifevests and
helmets to float in calm water. Suddenly, Prince jumps up. "QUICK
EVERYBODY LIFEVESTS ON, GET DOWN GET DOWN GET DOWN WE ARE GOING TO
DIE." We immediately drop everything and cower for our lives. No
rapid. Calm water. Example 2: Zach jumps off the raft during a calm
stretch to swim. Mid-jump, Prince yells "NO! DON'T! THE CROCIDILES!"
No crocodiles.
"Prince, what happens if we swim right instead of left in this rapid?"
Laughter. "Then we can't save you, see you in Egypt."
The worst joke by far was that it was his second day as a guide. He
had us all going with this one until he slipped by mentioning he had
been a guide for over 5 years. By the end of the day, Prince proposed
to me and I accepted, attracted by the title of Princess of the Nile.
Prince has offered 50 cows or the cash equivilant to my father. I told
him my father would probably prefer the cash (2.5 million shilling!),
but he'd have to negotiate the details with my very American father.
So this situation is pending.

I do owe Prince an enormous debt of gratitude. When we faced
Silverback, the biggest and strongest Cat5, I panicked. Silverback is
over 150 meters of double category 5 rapids colliding in deep water,
surrounded by jagged rocks. You can only see the white caps of the
rapids. Before the first drop, we were all regarding the intensity
before and I just started screaming. There were only two sounds: the
rush of the rapids and my terrified shrieks. I'm ashamed to admit that
I abandoned my post and ducked for cover, gripping the safety rope and
quaking with fear instead of paddling like a team player. Prince had
no sympathy for me.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PADDLE! PADDLE NOW, YOU SCARED MZUNGU!"
The "scared mzungu" comment snapped me out of terror and I picked up
my paddle and managed to stay on the raft and paddle. Of course, when
we finished navigating Silverback, we realized we had lost one of our
rafters and had some random guy on our boat, but we quickly did an
exchange and found her.
There were so many awesome and terrifying moments: when we rafted
Bujogali Falls, I misinterpreted "DUCK AND COVER, GET DOWN GET DOWN
GET DOWN" for "Wow, this is a gorgeous waterfall. Look around! Absorb
the moment!" and for that, I got an awesome shiner from smacking my
face into an oar. My position at the back of the raft meant I spent a
lot of time flying into the air from the impact of waves. At The Bad
Place, I sailed right out of the raft, over the top of the raft and
somehow landed in front. The Bad Place starts as a Cat6, so we had to
carry the raft over that and then relaunch into a Cat5. So I was
petrified that I was going to drift back into the Cat6 or over to the
falls: I managed to grip the front of the raft and Jenny summoned
inhuman strength and hauled me over the front while steering through a
Category 5.
But despite a minor sprain and a dozen bumps and bruises, I had an
awesome time and I think I'm going again in two weeks.