make it happen

The Final Post

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 17:16:00 +0000

It’s been a long 2 years. They days went slow but the weeks few by. I’m home now, sitting at my parent’s kitchen table eating a grilled cheese sandwich while typing this. It’s certainly good to be home.

It’s not easy to summarize my last 2 years in Uganda serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer while working with Compassion International. I’ve seen and experienced so much in that time. Most importantly, my world view has changed. I no longer doubt that people can live on less than $1 a day because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen things that tourists would never see. It’s been an education process on people and societies and human life. My values have changed especially in regards to how my money should be spent. Now I look at $60 for an item and think, “That’s enough to sponsor a Compassion Child for 2 months. Is a new sweater really worth that?”

My favorite moments are many. I enjoyed immensely interacting with the Compassion children who were so accepting, full of energy and yet curious about me. I made so many new friends. The other Peace Corps Volunteers there are some of the most amazing people you’d ever meet. They’ve sacrificed so much to be there serving the people of Uganda. I’ve also met some of the most incredible Ugandans who challenged my way of thinking and impressed me with their goals, passions and their work ethic. I enjoyed teaching Life Skills to the secondary students who had so many interesting questions about HIV/AIDS and the difficulties that all teenagers face growing up and relating to each other. I was also proud of the 2 Purdue teams that came and did work around the community. They brought running shoes for my running clubs and they also brought over 400 children’s books to start a library at Compassion. They came in the name of Love, to serve and work and to experience Uganda and they left a lasting impact and I was very proud to be a part of that.

My last days with the Compassion kids was especially difficult. These kids, who are the poorest of the poor, brought letters they had written to me telling me thanks and wishing me well and telling me how they’d miss me. A few brought gifts. A coffee mug. A small basket with a little teddy bear in it that said “I love you”. A few of them gave candy with their letters.

I’m not leaving the place high and dry, however. The Peace Corps placed 2 new volunteers there to replace me. It’s a married couple and they seem to have just the right attitude necessary to survive. They’ve come with open minds and the desire to serve and they’re looking forward to a less hectic more easy going life where there are no phone, light or gas bills.

Let me just say, there’s no country in the world like the US, but maybe not for the reasons that you’d initially think. It’s not about wealth or prosperity. The US is an amazing country because we have laws that make sense and protect people’s rights. We have a democratic system in which our government is made up “…of the people, by the people and for the people”, and “we the people” have a say in who is running our country and there’s no thought to ballot rigging or the reining president staying in power by force. We drink safe drinking water and have reliable electricity in our homes. In Africa, diarrhea kills more babies than any other sickness. We don’t have to worry about that. We have schools in which there aren’t 60 pupils to 1 teacher. And possibly most important, we live in a land of opportunity. If you don’t like the career you are in then you have the option of changing it. There are jobs and education opportunities available. Imagine living in a country where there were no jobs and no chance at education past 7^th grade if you didn’t have the funds. We have opportunity and thus we have hope.

On June 11^th I’ll ceremoniously dip my rear bicycle wheel in the Atlantic Ocean as I begin my bicycle ride across the US which is being done to raise money and support for a simple building (community center) for the Compassion kids to meet in. We have raised over $30,000 for the trip already. The walls of the building are up and the materials have been purchased for the roofing materials. Once we get a roof up it’ll start to serve as a functioning building. What’s left are floors, windows and doors. (Follow the blog at http://bikeforcompassion.blogspot.com)

The big question I’m asked is: Would you do it again? Without a doubt, if I had it to do all over again then I would. Without hesitation. Whether or not I will again, God only knows.

Close to the End

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 17:16:00 +0000

Tuesday May 20, 2008

Purdue Recap

The Purdue team is back on US soil now. They spent a total of 14 days in Uganda. They lived with host families, ate local food and built 4 mud structures in their time here. They also helped out with our Center Days when the Compassion children came in. The kids loved having them. They were teaching from Rick Warren’s 40 Days of Purpose. They also performed 2 dramas and gave short testimonies at 2 churches. Each of them brought something different to the table. Immanuel brought his video camera and 16 video tapes, so his camera was always rolling. Calin brought her big-dog-daddy camera and took a mega-ton of pictures. The rest brought their great work ethics and their willingness to serve, even at the extent of building mud structures (kitchens and goat shelters) for the poorest of the poor.

One highlight was our trip to Rwanda. We spent the morning at the Rwanda Genocide and then had lunch at the Des Mille Collines (Hotel Rwanda). To relive the genocide where 800,000 people died in a span of 100 days was both moving and exhausting. People of the same country, the same religion, the same language, the same skin color, killing each other as the world looked the other way. Some wore shirts that read, “Never Again”. I hope so, but I have to wonder.

The Purdue group also brought over 400 childrens books with them to start a library for the Compassion kids. Classic books. Books that I used to have. Dr Seuss, Berenstein Bears, Where The Wild Things Are, Clifford, Little Bear, Zoobooks, etc. The kids loved them to say the least. They really didn’t know what to think. They’d never seen books like these before. There are no libraries or kids books here apart for the few that Compassion has and the kids only get to glimpse at them occasionally, but we set up a library where the kids could take 1 book home with them and when that book’s returned then they can get another book.

I was really proud of what Purdue did in their 2 weeks here. I could see change in them from when they first arrived and looked like tourists with their cameras flying to seeing them wrestling and playing with the Compassion Kids after spending time with them. Two weeks may seem short, but the’ve seen more of Uganda and more of Africa than I’d imagine most Americans have seen, and seeing is believing. Seeing it moves one to changing it.

Good Bye

The Purdue group said goodbye to my village but they weren’t the only ones. I also bid farewell to my little home of the past 2 years. Yup, my time is up here. We had a little dinner where some gifts were given and some speeches were made. My Compassion kids cried and hugged me the day before when they left my last center day.

I guess now’s the time when I’m supposed to summarize what I’ve done in the past 2 years. Now’s the time to reflect on how I’ve changed this place and how it’s changed me. Really, right now the only thing I can think about is leaving. Moving on. I’m not really excited and I’m not really sad, I’m somewhere in between. The fact is that I’m ready to get home, to get on with my life and to be more in control, like being able to drive and being able to make decisions about where to go and what to do with my free time, rather than being stuck in a little village. I’m sad to leave the friends I’ve made there but I’m super excited to get back with my friends and fam back home. Of course I’ll always have a special place for Uganda and I’d like to come back and visit someday and I probably will, but for now my focus is on the horizon.

Some of what I’ve accomplished in my 2 years of PC service:

- Created a database of the Compassion children’s information.

- Tutored the Compassion staff on Word, Excel, internet and email.

- Taught English, math, science, social studies to students ages 8-16.

- Taught health and physical education to students ages 8-16.

- Raised $30,000 for a community center.

- Raised $5,000 through Rotary for income generating activities (IGAs)

- Organized a running club with 100 boys and girls participating and 45 receiving running shoes.

- Conducted over 100 home visits and visited over 120 children to monitor their health and home sanitation.

- Began a library with over 400 children’s books for Compassion.

- Organized and supervising 30 college students to come to Uganda, live with host families and build 7 mud structures for the Compassion families.

- Taught Life Skills such as HIV/AIDS education, reproductive health, peer pressure, goal setting, etc., to 300 students at 6 secondary schools.

- Organized an Ultimate Frisbee tournament for 6 secondary schools which included an HIV/AIDS theme and drama presentation.

Some more of what I’ve accomplished that wouldn’t be considered resume material

- Helped 2 students with their school fees on my PC salary.

- Found school fees for another student.

- Helped to fund to roof someone’s house.

- Found funds to buy land and build a home for a needy family

- Ran 3 marathons (2 in Africa, 1 in Boston)

- Didn’t completely loose my sanity

- Didn’t beat anyone up for calling me “Muzungu”

- Employed a neighbor to wash my clothes which provided for her well being

- Submitted newspaper articles to my local paper to inform my hometown about the PC, Uganda and Compassion

- Wrote a weekly blog for the same reasons

- When I went home last year I spoke to the Rotary Club, Lions Club, Optimist Club, Jr Highs, High Schools, Elementary Schools, and churches in an effort to inform Americans about PC, Uganda and Compassion.

Saturday May 23

RPCV

I’m officially a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. My card has been punched and voided signifying that I’ve completed my service. The whole process seemed like a birth and death. When we’re born there’s celebration and excitement and when we die we often go out with a whimper. It was something like that. I don’t think I’ll really feel like I’m done until I’m on the plane at the airport facing down the runway ready for takeoff. Then I’ll know that it’s not a dream and that I’m really leaving.

Today I’m leaving for Israel for a week before going back to the US. On June 11^th I’ll begin my bike trip across the country to raise money for the Compassion building project which is to be a community center to serve my village. The bike trip will cross 10 states and take approx 50 days. I’ll be riding with another guy who contacted me several months ago asking if he could come along. I’m looking forward to the bike trip the most. I’ve never been out west and it just seems like an epic adventure to top all others. At which point this blog will stop and that one will begin.

There will be one more blog entry briefly talking about my re-adjustment and that will close the chapter on this portion of my life as a PCV. I want sincerely thank everyone who sent me emails, cards, and packages over the 2 years. Your friendship and thoughtfulness brightened my days and broadened my waistline. Each package and letter were treasured, priceless possessions. You can’t imagine, really, how wonderful it was to get a little ‘lovin’ from home.

So, one more blog entry and that’ll be it. Stay tuned…

Campus House team rolls up their sleeves

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Thu, 22 May 2008 16:03:00 +0000

The Purdue team arrived with narry a hitch this week. All their luggage came with them ok. We loaded up 2 mini vans and drove to Backpackers in Kampala to spend the night. For all but one of them it’s their first time in Africa.

Day 1 we traveled to Jinja to see the source of the Nile River, Bujagali Falls. It was a beautiful day when we arrived and the trip there takes you through some dirt roads and some empoverished areas of Jinja. Once there we boarded a boat and took a trip out into the water to a small island nearby. Ben said he saw a crocodile but nobody believed him. We also paid a guy $5 to swim through the rapids. It’s his source of income to get tourists to pay him to do it. It looked death defying but when he did it it looked easy.

Back to Kampala and Backpaers to get our stuff and head to my village. Kampala traffic is always crazy. We had too many people in our vehicle and a traffic police man had us pull over where we had to pay $5 to him. Not sure if it was a bribe or a fine. A little later we encountered another police man and were going to have to pay again but the driver had me get out to meet him further up the road. I did, but when I looked back I couldn’t see our taxi amidst the dozens of other taxis or any white people. I freaked a bit and panicked. I called the drive but he couldn’t understand my accent well enough to actually communicate. I ended up having to jump on a boda and pay him to find our taxi, which he did a little ways up the road.

The guy I had hired to get us to my village didn’t show up so I had to call around and find another coaster (short bus) to get us there. By the time he got there we were 1 ½ hours late. This guy drove in such a way that it reminded me of my drivers-ed father. We were passed by every vehicle on the road. He practically stopped at every pot hole to navigate around it. In what is often a 4-5 hour trip took 7.5 hours to travel. We arrived late, which I didn’t think was a big deal in Africa after having lived here 2 years, but I still managed to get an earful for it.

We finally arrived and met our host families and got everyone to where they needed to go.

Thursday, May 8^th was a rest day. We explored my village showing them the ‘Wal-Mart’ which is a tiny little shop where numerous little useful things are sold there. The longer you stand there the more you find. You can take about 3 steps and get from one end to another, but it’s full of stuff. They were also introduced to Sky Blue, my favorite little restaurant in town and then it was on to the bi-monthly market which was filled with vendors selling 2^nd hand clothing, mattresses, cloth, pots, shoes, food and a bunch of trinkets you wouldn’t think they’d need in Africa. It was quite an experience and I think they wanted to stay longer to take it all in. Fortunately this year I have Jacob, Brock and Lindsey to help me show them around so we’ve been able to divide up as to not make up one massive group of 16 white people moving through town drawing stares, gawks, pointing, laughing, jeering, etc. It’s a little better when we’re in pods of 4.

Today, Friday, May 09, the Compassion kids came. I think the Purdue team enjoyed them worshiping the most. The kids really sing and clap and drum and let loose and worship. You can tell that it’s the kids’ favorite part of the day too. We went through our education sessions and the Compassion kids had a lot of questions to ask about America and dating and daily life there and the Purdue team was happy to answer and share their country and culture with them. The Purdue guys are adjusting to the quiet voices and the shyness of the Ugandan kids. It’s difficult to get them to speak out as English is a second language of theirs. They’re learning so much though every day. It’s a great time for me too because I get to share ‘my Africa’ with them. I spend 2 years here and have put a lot of effort and energy and emotion (and a lot of other words that start with an ‘e’) into this area and really nobody will every see it, so it’s nice to share my expertise and knowledge with a bunch of thirsty minds.

They’ve done nothing but enjoy their time here and they have many stories to tell already about their homestay families and using pit latrines (out houses) and bathing outside under the stars and eating the same bland food over and over and over. Tomorrow we go deep into the village for the first time to do some work. We’re sure to draw a crowd.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

What a day!!!

Saturday was scheduled to be a work day. 25 of the kids were invited to come along to help us work at one of our Compassion girl’s homes named Sarah. Sarah lives with her grandmother who must be in her 80’s. The grandmother is the only living relative of Sarah and her 4 younger siblings. The grandmother is very old and frail but she still somehow manages to take care of their garden and banana plantation though both were in desperate need of care. We spent the morning figuring out how to care for a banana plantation by watching the Compassion kids and doing what they were doing. They begin by cutting down the dead leaves that hadn’t fallen off. Then they trim any death that was occurring on the tree. My job consisted of removing the old ‘stumps’ and covering up the place they were with dirt. Others were cutting up stumps that had fallen to increase the speed of them rotting.

In addition to working on the banana plantation we also hoed in their garden. It was full of weeds. It was funny watching some of the Purdue girls trying to hoe, especially along side the Compassion girls who are experts at it. They all jumped right in and went to work though. We also put up a bathing are where the family could bathe more privately. They had been bathing from outside on the side of their house previously. And we also put up a drying rack for their dishes. It’s important for dishes to dry in the sun to kill some additional germs. This also prevents them from drying on the ground which is not sanitary. We enjoyed a meal of chapattis (like tortillas), bananas, sodas and water for lunch.

Purdue is coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 06 May 2008 13:20:00 +0000

I know I haven't posted in some time. My computer has been on the fritz. The Purdue team is coming today. Only 1 holdover from the last group from a year ago. They are set to stay with host families for the 2 weeks they are here. They will spend their time with the Compassion kids in educational activities as well as games and sports. Plus they will venture out into the bush to do some physical labor as they work to build some simple mud structures like outdoor kitchens and pit latrines (outhouses) for the poorest of the poor of our Compassion families. It's an extremely exciting time to spend with these eager Americans and to share with them my tiny village in Africa with all of its comforts and culture.

Bruno and the Gorillas

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 07:46:00 +0000

Bruno

My little friend, Bruno, used to be a waiter at Sky Blue Restaurant. He is the most hospitable little guy I’ve ever met. He’d just do anything for you. That kind of hospitality is sometimes difficult to fine in Uganda. Customer service seems so far from people’s minds, but not Bruno. It’s just how he’s wired.

Jacob and I along with another 2 people have helped pay Bruno’s school fees for him to follow his passion, studying tourism. Currently he’s interning in Bwindi Impenatrable Forrest as a Gorilla tracker! He’s been tracking the gorillas and taking tourists to see them. He came back this weekend with a number of stories and tales to tell. He knows the ‘grunts’ the gorillas make to say “I’m OK, you’re OK” and the noises they make when they’ve eaten something they really like. He even said he’s been kicked by them a couple of times…!!! Though my PC salary is small (a couple hundred bucks a month), it’s still more than I need living in my tiny village where there’s really nowhere to spend money, so it’s good to give it away. It’s taxpayers money anyway and not really mine, so I feel like it needs to be given away. I’m just glad to help and glad to hear the excitement of Bruno’s stories and to realize that they may never have happened unless a few people got together to help.

New Volunteers

Reinforcements have arrived!! There are 2 new white people living in my village, just a stone’s throw from my house. They are the 2 new PCVs (a married couple) who will be replacing me and Jacob once we’re done, but for the time being they are here to learn the ropes. It’s great to have some new faces here and to help them habituate to the surroundings. They are a great couple with a lot of great ideas about what they want to do here. They also seem to have the attitude about things which is nearly essential to survival here. They’re ready to ‘make lemonade’ as my VSO friend Chris likes to say. I’m looking forward to hearing about their successes in the next 2 years.

Win $5,000 and help Compassion!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 08:32:00 +0000

Rushville Rotary to Raffle for Compassion

My time here in Uganda with the PC is nearly complete and I’m happy to announce that I’ve got a very exciting thing to pass along to you!! The Rushville Rotary is conducting a raffle to help support needy families in the Compassion International project specifically in my village in Uganda!!! I spoke at one of their meetings a year ago about PC, Uganda and Compassion International and they said they were in need of an international project to sponsor, so a partnership was made. Their goal is to raise $10,000 and to give HALF of it to us here and the other half will go to the winner of the raffle! That’s right, the winner will receive $5,000!! The other $5,000 (which could triple to $15,000 through matching grants from Rotary International) that goes here will NOT be going to the building project, but rather to our neediest families for a number of income generation projects, such as goats, cattle, garden projects, clean water collection projects, etc to improve the health, sanitation, income levels, and general living conditions of our Compassion Families, which have already been identified as being the neediest of the needy in this community. Most of the household incomes of the families which we deal with is around $1 a day!! The goal is to tangibly help and support the community through income generation projects while the community center building project is also going on which will support the community in another way.

I’m super excited that the Rotary has taken this project on! It’s a GREAT opportunity for you to help these needy families here as well as a chance for you to make some money for yourself!! Raffle tickets are $50 a piece (or 5 people could all pitch in $10 to buy one and then split the winnings $1,000 a piece). The raffle will be held on April 19^th. Tickets are limited. Tickets can be bought from any Rushville Rotarian, so they can call Markus Strobl or any other member of the Rotary Club in Rush County. Markus’ phone is 765-938-5110 (business), or 938-3424 (hm), and the email is: itsjustglass@verizon.net.

Please consider helping this needy cause!

Caroline’s Story

I heard this story when I first arrived but some new developments have arrived. Caroline is a 14 year old girl. She was found in the bush by a cattle keeper after she had been abandoned by her mother when she was an infant. The cattle keeper took her to his sister who raised her along with her own children. In the following months this new caregiver of this girl talked to local government officials and churches to identify the parents of her. Nothing came of it.

About 4 years ago a wealthy man came forward identifying Caroline as his grand daughter and said that he wanted to take her into his home. He claimed that is son fathered the girl by a house girl they had at the time. This house girl was of an ‘inferior tribe’ and in relative poverty and thus the boy could not marry her.

Caroline has known for some time that she wasn’t born into her current family but that she was found and raised by this older woman. They live in dire poverty. The grandfather and even the father are trying to claim Caroline reasoning that they can provide her a better life. They have money to afford secondary school and to provide for her needs. The grandfather reasons that he has all this money and why should one of his granddaughters be suffering in poverty when he has the means to help her.

The current caregiver, however, is reluctant to let Caroline go with them claiming that she doesn’t know who the parents are and wonders why they are just now stepping forward to claim her. Caroline has a striking resemblance to both the father and grandfather and she would receve more opportunities with her birth father. The situation was even brought to the police to have them resolve it but they said without DNA proof that the girl is related to the father the could not intervene. So, if the father & grandfather wish to continue to pursue this matter they’ll have to go to Kampala for DNA testing, but even so, trying to convince this poor, uneducated caregiver woman about DNA testing, what it is, how reliable it is, etc, may prove to be another bridge to cross.

Caroline has yet to be asked what she would like to do, but I believe that Compassion is going to do that soon.

Stolen Scale

We had a scale stolen from Compassion recently. The scale is used frequently to measure a number of food stuffs that are brought into the office. I didn’t realize it but the scale costs over $100. We have 2 cooks that work for Compassion who have been here the whole 2 years I’ve been here. The staff has told me that small amounts of food seem to disappear from our store room all the time and they have always suspected the cooks, both men. The cooks are paid around $30 a month to cook and work around the office. Sometimes, depending on what jobs need to be done, they earn $50 a month.

When the scale came up missing the cooks were immediately suspected and one in particular started acting funny. He went to the local radio station without being told and took out an ad asking for the return of the stolen scale. He also thought that the cooks should work together to replace the stolen scale. Nobody has admitted to stealing it, but it looks somehow suspicious and right now it looks like the more suspicious cook is going to replace the scale.

Leaving Soon, A Friend Visit, Post PC Plans

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 09:10:00 +0000

I’ve been away from blogging for the past few weeks, so I apologize. It’s been a combination of things. First, we had our final COS party to bid farewell to our fellow PCVs who will be leaving in May. It was a theme party where we all dressed up as movie characters. Fortunately there is a plethora of second hand clothing all over this country so piecing together a costume isn’t terribly difficult and is actually quite fun and feels quite ‘normal’, as in it’s a break from the daily routine of what always feels the same. The party was great. It was held at a Turkish restaurant near Garden City called Effandy’s. It wasn’t just my group that was in attendance but a number of other PCVs from the other groups to bid us farewell and also for just a reason to party.

The party also served as an opportunity to show a slide show video set to music of our past 2 years in Uganda. I begged, borrowed and stole over 4,000 pictures from my fellow PCVs and put it to 45 minutes of music. Songs ranged from “Find Yourself” by Brad Paisley to “Africa” by Toto to “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” by Animals. I just tried to take the pictures and music and create a range of feelings and experiences that we all felt and experienced over our 2 years. 45 minutes of pictures may sound like an eternity of hell, especially if you’d compare it to Aunt Helga’s vacation videos or something like that, but it was different. It was a chance to see everyone’s point of view, their villages, their experiences, their Ugandan friends and families.

Friend Visit

My friend, Nanette, came and visited for a week. She had served in the PC in Burkina Faso, so she was already “Africa ready” once she arrived. We traveled around a bit and saw my village. We also visited her Compassion Child who lived in one of the slums of Kampala. I’d never been to the slums. It was moving to say the least. People living in cramped conditions. It had just rained, so you can imagine the mud, muck and whatever else we were traipsing through. We visited her 8 year old girl’s home where 7 people slept. The girl’s father had died, presumably of HIV. The mother was HIV positive, but the 3 children were negative. The mother sold tea to neighbors to earn a small living and the step father drove a car owned by another man as a special hire taxi. It’s a difficult way to earn a living because motor bike taxis are cheaper and can maneuver Kampala’s frequent traffic jams quicker and easier than cars. The step father earns around $7 a day but sometimes comes home with no earnings. This ‘home’ they live in is only a single room that is 8 ft by 12 ft. There are 7 that sleep there including the mother’s 2 siblings. Nanette’s girl often sleeps with her grandmother who lives about 1 km away but who also lives in a single room. They share a bed. The grandmother whom we also visited, says that she enjoys her grand daughter’s company and that she’s a hard worker when she comes over. The slums are compounded by the fact that Ugandans have no regard for trash disposal, so they just throw their trash outside and expect it to just wash away or magically disappear.

The Compassion staff accompanied us on our visit. They were so friendly and kind. We really had a nice time with them. Each Compassion center has 4 staff members that work there full time plus a handful of teachers that come once a week when the kids come to give them supplemental education and care. This particular Compassion was a new center. When I first arrived I was told there were around 155 Compassion centers around Uganda, but on this visit I was told there are now 212. Each center has around 280 children. That equals a total of around 60,000 Ugandan children who receive education, clothing, a mattress and mosquito net, free health care and social services in addition to Christian education that would otherwise be without. And the children are identified by community members as being the poorest of the poor and the neediest of the needy.

Nanette went on to comment on how drastically different Burkina Faso and Uganda are. Burkina Faso, she said, is extremely hot year round, even at night and it’s very dry and dusty all over. Uganda is lush and green and the temperatures are comfortable and even cool in the evenings, at least in the mountainous south west. She also said that there are very few tourists or touristy places in Burkina, where as Uganda has a number of tourist attractions including the Nile River, a number of National Parks including Gorilla Trekking.

New Volunteers

Jacob and I are both getting PC replacements for our organizations for when we are gone. There will be a small overlap due to when training was scheduled for them. We met the new couple. It’s a married couple. The guy is going to work with Compassion and his wife is going to work with Jacob’s organization. My village is a nicely sized place with a decent array of restaurants and decent electricity plus it’s nestled in a beautiful valley with scenic mountains all around that are begging to be climbed.

We had a great visit with them. They seem anxious to just get here and get started. They also just seem to have a great attitude about what they want to do and what their expectations are. That is so essential to being a PCV. Living a simple life, the ability to ‘make lemonade’ when you are given lemons and the willingness to just kind of go with the flow. Those elements can make or break a PC experience. It sounded like, mostly, they were just ready to get here and to start working as a PCV. Typical. Those weeks of training seem to always drag on as the fantasy of the real PCV life looms where you are free to come and go as you please and free to get your hands dirty and start working on your own projects. It should be a great next few weeks that we all spend together before I leave.

Leaving Soon

Speaking of leaving, I have 8 weeks remaining in Uganda. To be honest, I’m ready to go home. I know that I’ll look back with very fond memories, but for now I’m focused on the light at the end of the tunnel.

This whole 2 years was supposed to give me an idea of what I was supposed to with the rest of my life. What I’ve found instead was that it was the same 2 years of uncertainty that I would have had in the US, just in a different place. Without actively searching out purpose, it’ll never be attained. So, about a year ago I actively tried to tackle that exact issue. I searched deep within myself as well as far beyond myself (thanks internet). I decided, after much thought and prayer, that after the PC I’ll be going into campus ministry somewhere, hopefully around May of ’09. I looked back on all my work and life experiences in addition to my own gifts and talents and I feel, and have always somehow felt called to ministry though have also felt like I had to find myself first and pursue my own objectives. I’m reminded how Jesus didn’t begin his ministry until the age of 30. I wouldn’t trade my experiences, in fact, I believe they all shaped who I am, from teaching to working construction and working at Applebee’s to being in Uganda. I feel I have more to offer and am more equipped than I otherwise would have been had I jumped in straight after college. But I also feel like I’ve taken the role of Jonah and have tried to flee from a calling, if you will, and that fleeing has led to general unsatisfaction in the careers that I’ve pursued. They just didn’t jive with me, so to speak.

So, the plan in full is to ride my bicycle across the US from June to the end of July to raise money for a building project here for Compassion (http://bikeforcompassion.blogspot.com) and then to move to Knoxville to work with my friend and former minister Mark Nelson (http://standingonthedesk.blogspot.com) for 10 months, training and learning how to minister and manage a church before taking the plunge myself in May of ’09.

Getting sick happens...

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 07:50:00 +0000

I didn’t want to blog about this but I think I need to. I found myself face down in the dirt last week outside of my pit latrine unable to move or yell for help. I was lying in the dirt in a pool of my own sweat struggling not to faint as my world got darker and further away. I had left my phone in my house so I was without any lifelines. I panicked. I was terrified. I didn’t exactly know what was happening or why. Earlier that day I had felt uneasy with no appetite. I had laid down for what turned out to be a 3 hour nap and then felt the need to vomit. I went to the latrine for what turned out to be diarrhea and then it happened.

My latrine is fenced in so nobody could see me. I laid there for I don’t know how long. I could hear people going to my neighbors house to get milk for their evening tea. I mustered up the strength to cry for help. Help to get me inside to my phone. I yelled (as best I could) in English and in the local language. …I heard laughter in response. 3 people walked by the fence immediately outside and as I begged for help I heard laughter. From kids I suspect. In my delirious state I thought to even offer them candy to get them to come. More laughter. So then I was angry on top of being disoriented. I yelled for my neighbor by name… nothing.

Slowly my strength came back and I forced myself into my house to get my phone. I called Jacob and he came over immediately, but he lives 1.5 miles away and it took him a while by bike to get there. I also called the Peace Corps nurse.

My strength was back by this time but the panicked feeling of wondering what had happened, how a strong, healthy runner can nearly faint out of what seemed like the clear blue sky.

She calmly told me that what happened wasn’t terribly unusual. Fainting after a sizable diarrhea is fairly common and that it had even happened to her. She said that I was dehydrated and that I had lost a lot of fluid in my ‘long call’ and that I need to rest and drink fluids and keep in touch with her if anything else happened and that she would call in the morning to check up on me.

I remember reading about a common question that people had before joining the Peace Corps about getting very sick with nobody around to help. I didn’t think that could be the case with neighbors so close by who watch your every move and with a cell phone which I always have with me. Generally it’s not a concern, but I had just happened to leave my phone by my bed when this occurred, which could happen to anybody.

I felt a little silly by the time Jacob got there. I was feeling much better, only weak from the ordeal. I was furious that I was laughed at instead of being helped by the kids/neighbors. They must have thought that I was joking and they obviously couldn’t have seen me behind the fence, but still I was outraged that I could be lying there in need of help and hear laughter as a response.

In all honestly it was kind of a culmination of a number of feelings. With only 11 weeks left to go in my PC experience I’m tired to the point of being utterly frustrated at walking around my village and still being harassed by the same people and the same shops that I have passed for over 2 years now. They don’t see it as harassment as they yell out “Muzungu” every time I pass, but to hear it 50 times a day, every single day, just gets so old. I think that even the sickness was brought on buy stress and frustration the last few weeks, suffice it to say. But, I’m on a downhill slope now. The end is in sight. It’s been a purely wonderful experience and I would DEFINITELY do it all over again if I had it to do again, but there’s also a big part of me that’s ready to come home and see my friends and family, eat pizza and ice cream and go to the dollar movie theater again. Is that such a bad thing?

My Replacement

The newest group of PCVs arrived on February 15^th. 60 of them but 3 have already gone home so I hear. In that group are my and Jacob’s replacements. They will actually be here with us for the final 6 weeks, which will be neat. It’ll be a chance for us to show them around town, teach them how life as a PCV is, answer any questions they have along the way and to give them some golden advice as to how to merely survive in our village. I wish I had had a PCV here to ease me in, in a way. But also the figuring out on your own is a magical time as well.

It’s going to be a fast 11 weeks. I have a good friend coming to visit next week, then in April my replacement comes and then in mid May Purdue Campus House is sending another group of 15 college kids to do some work in and around my village with the Compassion kids and their families. Last year when they came it was EASILY the highlight of my year and I’m so looking forward to their coming and seeing them experience Africa and Compassion. There are definitely some things to look forward to in the coming weeks!!

Mr President, could you pass me the grape jelly?

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 08:40:00 +0000

My cousin and I joined the Peace Corps at about the same time, unbeknownst to each other. Each of us had a desire to experience life in another country and to contribute in our own unique special way towards changing the world.

President Bush has been in the news recently on his tour through Africa. He stopped over in Ghana where my cousin is serving as a PCV and she had the pleasure of meeting him and having supper with him. I put on my flickr account a picture from the Ghana paper. That’s her sitting between George W. Bush and Condolezza Rice. How does one get such a seating assignment??

Power Outage

They’ve been replacing the power lines around my village for the past 2 weeks. The power has been off during the weekdays and on during the weekends. It’s really affected the local economy and well being but you don’t hear people complaining about it (but maybe that’s because I don’t understand 90% of what’s being said around me). The fact is that the power goes off and on so often that it’s just a way of life. Frustrating but normal. I can always tell if the power is off during the day because the metal workers who make the gates and barred house windows aren’t welding, they’re hammering or painting instead. The power was off for 4 days straight one week and 3 days straight last week. Those businesses who have generators burn those with fuel that is at $5.80 a gallon right now (no joke). And yet, I don’t hear anybody complain. It’s just how it is here. People aren’t as reliant on power. Life goes on.

“Hey man, nice, uh… outfit!”

That was the greeting I received from Jacob when I walked in wearing my blue Colts hat and my brand new Colts jersey with “Dunn” across the back. It was an outfit, I admit. It looked like I was going to a tailgate party for the pre-game celebration in the RCA dome parking lot. I admit it. I looked like a tool, but I’m in Africa, who cares? Nobody else would think anything of it. At least that’s what I thought. Until…

I was having breakfast at Sky Blue. My normal breakfast of poached eggs, toast and African coffee (instant coffee with boiled milk and not water). It’s $0.10 cheaper to have poached eggs rather than fried or scrambled for some reason. As I’m sitting there enjoying my meal in the warming morning sun, not 1, not 2, not 3, but FOUR mini-vans pulled up and unloaded 30 Americans who looked like college students. (Granted if they were Ugandans there would have been closer to 80 of them in those same 4 vehicles.) There I was in my ‘outfit’, looking like quite the Colts fan. Not that I’m ashamed of the Colts, but everything has it’s limits and by American standards I knew that I had crossed the line from a fan to a fanatic. I tried ditching the hat to tone it down a notch but I feel like the damage was already done. Of all the days to see a group of Americans…

It's a bit long, but it's good...

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 09:54:00 +0000

So here was my day yesterday. Not that it was so interesting or so funny or so different than other days here, but it just all happened on one day and it was particularly funny to me:

I was told by my organization that I had to attend a meeting at the District Council Hall at 8am. There was a letter about an OVC committee meeting for organizations from all over the district. I asked what time I should REALLY be there and they told me 9. I arrived a bit late, about 9:05, hoping that I wasn't the last person there. To my utter astonishment I wasn't the last one, but rather the first one. Even the organizers of the event hadn't arrived. I found a seat and waited. I waited some more. I waited and waited and waited. Finally at 10am I called my organization to ask them "what's up"? They told me to leave because they needed someone to go to Mbarara to pick up messages. So I left.

I traveled to Mbarara and started to pick the things they had sent me for. First I had to pay the electricity bill. No problems. Then I had to go to a book store to buy a number of Christian books for our kids. I went to the first book store and couldn't find any of the items on my list. I went to the next book store and again came up empty. I asked the lady about the books and she referred me back to the first book store. I then decided to look for a bookstore which I heard had the books called "Focus Bookstore". I asked a small group of people, "I'm looking for Focus Bookstore. Do you know where it is?"

"It's called what?"

"Focus"

"What?"

"FO-cus"

"What?"

"FOCUS! I can't say it any differently! Fo-cus! FO-CUS!"

"What?"

"It's called Focus Bookstore. Focus Bookshop. Something. It used to be next to the Pelican Hotel but it has moved."

"Oh, you're looking for Pelican Hotel?"

"No! I'm looking for a bookstore called Focus!"

"It's called what?"

"Argh!!! Never mind!"

I walked around all afternoon and I never did find the books. Every book store referred me to every other one. I decided to leave Mbarara and let someone else worry about the books. I went to the edge of town to catch a taxi, but I didn't stop there. Those taxi drivers are clever. They know that people go to the edge of town to catch a taxi, so they pick them up there and then go BACK into town to pick up other passengers, sometimes doing this for hours before they actually leave.

Well, I'm more clever than they are. I went to the edge of town and then walked an additional 1km to make SURE that they were leaving town when they reached me. A minibus came. I got in the front seat. THEY PROCEEDED TO TURN AROUND AND GO BACK INTO TOWN!!! I tried to jump out but the conductor grabbed my door and wouldn't let me out. "Muzungu! 2 minutes! 2 minutes and we'll leave. I promise." Yeah right. "I'm timing you," I told him. "2 minutes turns into an hour here!" So we went a short distance back into town, then sat for 10 minutes, a few people got out, we drove up a ways and then... turned around AGAIN to go back into town! We left 30 minutes later. Could have been worse. Ah, Uganda!

Mr Maxwell

When I was a kid I always looked forward to going to church. Not because of the flannel board stories of Daniel and the lions den; it was because Mr Maxwell always had gum for me. If I remember right, it was called Mormon gum and it was these 2 little chickletts in this small, yellow cardboard box. I wouldn’t even greet Mr Maxwell, I would just run up to him and ask for gum, and every time, he gave me some. If he didn’t have Mormon gum, then he’d give me Wrigley’s. It was the best part of church as far as my 5 year old mind was concerned.

Well, now that I’m older, I’ve decided that I want to be Mr Maxwell. I want to provide gum to the 5 year old kids of Uganda.

That was my first mistake. I started keeping candy at my place, and because I live around a number of other houses there are always kids around. I started giving candy to these little kids. Then more kids came. And more. Before I knew it, all of the kids in the neighborhood were lining up outside my door every morning with their grubby hands sretched out saying “Give me sweetie!” Not hello, not good morning. Just Give me sweetie, as if I was the candy welfare man who had bottomless pockets of sweets to hand out. Slowly I’ve been trying to wean the kids off of thinking that I’m the candy man, but it’s taken time. Each time they come to my door in droves, I open the door and show them the empty bag of candy. Sounds kind of cruel, I know, but I’m telling you, droves of kids were showing up at my door, knocking at all hours, waking me up and saying, “Mpa (give me) sweetie!” Apparently even my generosity has it’s limits when gauged against my sanity.

Spaceship Landing

I thought I had talked about this before, but I guess I hadn’t. A couple of weeks ago I saw some construction going on at the Primary School located near my house. It looked like they were building a guard house at the entrance by the road. Unusual, I thought, because it was the holidays and generally they don’t build unless there’s money and they wouldn’t have collected money until the school year had begun.

A week or so went by and I was going home one evening when I noticed the most peculiar sight. There was a light on at the ‘guard house’. The primary school doesn’t have electricity and the guard house is a good 100 meters from the school anyway. Upon a closer look I saw a satellite dish and solar panels on the structure. It also looked like there were 2 ATM monitors glowing on the building. I froze. Asked myself if I had traveled through a wormhole to the US somehow, the got closer for a better look.

They weren’t ATM monitors but the screens were computer monitors and the men there were on the internet. Internet? What the…? I must be in another country.

I stood there and gawked for at least 10 minutes (seriously) trying to comprehend what was going on. Finally I had enough. I asked the men, one of which was Indian, what this was all about. He explained to me that the government of India had donated this to Uganda. It is free public internet for anyone who wishes to use it. There were 2 monitors behind the Plexiglas, the keyboards and touch pad were secured into the wall. There was even an outdoor light and it was all powered by solar power and a battery. There were 4 of these donated to Uganda and we got one.

“Free internet?” I asked.

“Yeah. Free internet.”

“And who pays for it?”

“The government of India pays for the internet services and for any upkeep needed. If there are any problems then the school has the number to call and a technician from Kampala will come to work on it and the bill will go to India.”

Unbelievable. Really, it’s like a well for the village, but instead of providing water they provide communication. Email, news, internet, etc. It also has some children’s programs to teach them math, kids wikipedia, typing, etc. It’s really amazing, I only wish I had thought of it.

“They’ll lock it up.” I told him. “They’ll charge people to use it. They’ll do something funny with me, mark my words. Not while I’m here, I’ll make sure of it, but I’m telling you, I have my suspicions.”

Sure enough, a week later I noticed that the head teacher for the school had an energy saver (florescent) light bulb in his home and the one for the internet shack was missing. Nobody in my village uses energy saver bulbs except for me. Nobody. And he suddenly has one at the same time that the one for the new internet place disappears? Ah, Uganda. I’m not accusing anyone, I’m just observing things.

So, we’ll see how it pans out, but it seems like a great idea. To visit their website, check out http://www.hole-in-the-wall.com

The Kenya Effect

A few prices of things have gone up here. I noticed that the prices of baked goods has gone up. After inquiring I was told that wheat prices has increased from 2,500 Ush to 4,500 Ush, almost doubled. The landlocked country of Uganda continues to suffer the effects of the election in Kenya.

Republican Article

Here’s the latest article I sent to the Rushville Republican. It’s adapted from a former blog entry on a school visit I made earlier this year.

Ultimate Frisbee, Fund Raising, and a WHOLE Bunch of Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 12:57:00 +0000

I spent the past 2 weeks in and around Kampala for a workshop/vacation. Taking pictures mostly but also wearing myself out playing Ultimate Frisbee. (Please check out my recent pictures of Kampala on my flickr.com badge on the right. They’re some of the best pictures I’ve taken while serving as a PCV.) The Peace Corps put together 2 teams to compete in a 6 team tourney. We played last year and were only able to beat the high school kids, several of which were playing for the first time. This year we set out to do a little better.

Didn’t really happen. We fielded 2 teams this year instead of one. We beat the high school kids again and we were able to beat the other PC team, but other than a late game ralley where we trailed 8-7, we really weren’t in any of the games, but it was still a ton of fun. It’s the only time of the year that I can let loose my competitive side. In Kampala they meet weekly and scrimmage/practice in a sort of a league, so the Ugandans and ex-pats who play are very good! Very good! We played 5 games the first day. Five games of sprinting around, covering people, like you would in football or soccer is very tiring, but as my friend Przemek said, “It’s a good tired.”

Rotary to Fund Raise

I just received word that the Rushville Rotary is preparing to begin fundraising for the Compassion project I’m working with. They are trying to raise $5,000 by selling raffle tickets. We still need to raise a little over $8,000 for the building project and I would like to be able to raise some extra money for income generating projects or purchase land/home building materials for some of our poorest families. I’ll try to get information on the raffle and post it soon.

Picture Time

I don’t want to write a whole lot. I really want you to just scroll through my pictures. I put up just under 100 and if a picture is worth 1,000 words, then you’ve got a lot of reading to do!

COS Confrence and a visit from a friend

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 07:19:00 +0000

We had our COS Conference this past week. COS stands for Close Of Service. it's nice because we stay in a $100 a night hotel. Sort of the Peace Corps way of rewarding us for making it to the end. Basically it’s a series of meetings getting us prepared to finish our time here. We go over everything from what to expect after Peace Corps to getting paid once we return home (we receive around $6,000 for what’s called re-adjustment allowance), to getting cash in lieu of our plane ticket home so that we can travel around. There was a panel of 5 ex-pats, 4 of which were RPCVs who talked about what it was like when they returned and what they’ve done since the Peace Corps. It was interesting and very helpful to hear about their experiences and expectations. I remember that one of them said that she just felt like after her Peace Corps experience that she would be able to transition immediately into an international development position but what she found that she was competing against people with 15 years of the same experience and that she had to start at the bottom and work her way up.

A Visiting Friend

My good friend Leslie Whitehead just happened to be in Kampala recently. She came with a group to do some short term mission work and just happened to chose Kampala to do it in. Leslie is a college friend whom I haven’t seen in several years so it was great to see her again. How she found out about this particular mission trip is also interesting. She was telling me that she was looking for a short term mission trip to do in Africa dealing with orphans. She put that exact criteria into a search, entered the dates she wanted to come and came up with a short list of mission trips already in the works. From there it was just a matter of picking the country and which trip to do. The group she came with was from all over: Australia, Canada and all over the US. They all basically met in London for the first time before flying to Uganda. They all came with a woman named Sherry who resides in California. Sherry first visited Uganda a few years ago. She and her husband immediately fell in love with the people and the place. She has since gone on to open her own orphanage in Kampala. But it’s far from your typical orphanage.

Orphanages here tend to be crowded compounds with wall to wall beds and kids of all ages. Sherry decided to do something different and in her own style. She found 8 children in need of help, 4 boys and 4 girls between the ages of 6 and 10 I’d say. She rents a nice home on 1 acre of land where these kids have a nice big yard to play in. Three ‘moms’ rotate in and out in shifts to take care of these kids. There is also a night watchman and a maintenance man. It’s a beautiful compound and a beautiful house. The kids each have their own things ranging from bicycles to umbrellas. They have nice clothes to wear that aren’t thread bare like so many of the children around and they are home schooled by the ‘moms’. Sherry has such a heart for these kids and they’re so loved and cared for. All 4 of the little girls had hair extensions (a popular thing here) and their ears pierced and the kids were so well mannered. It’s just a very different and refreshing way of tackling the problem of poverty and need.

Culture Shock

I don’t get culture shock here any more. Most of the romantic feelings of being in Africa have long since gone, but I did get a taste of something new this past week. Leslie’s group and I went to KPC, Kampala Pentecostal Church. It’s located downtown Kampala. From the moment I walked in I sensed that I wasn’t in Uganda any more. I’m so used to churches in the village. On stage was a full band warming up for worship. The patrons there weren’t dressed in the traditional Ugandan dresses and suits that I was accustomed to. The girls were actually wearing pants instead of skirts which is a little taboo in my area, but much more common in Kampala, and the church was filled with young people in their 20’s. I just couldn’t believe that this was in Uganda. I was sure I had found a wormhole back to the US. I didn’t know the worship music, but it was performed so well and it resembled ‘worship’ that I was more accustomed to with people really offering up worship to God, again something I’m not used to.

PCV Uganda Projects

There are a couple Peace Corps Volunteers in my group that are seeking funds through the Peace Corps Partnership program. A young, married couple here are trying to get a Borehole (well) constructed for a village that will service 350 men, women and children. Another project is for a tree nursery at a local primary school with the intention of teaching the students career skills in agriculture, art, and business aiding the local environment and improving the academic performance and experience of the student with a school income. Please take some time to consider helping these friends of mine with their Peace Corps projects as well as helping these Ugandan villages in their development.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/resources/donors/contribute/projdetail.cfm?projdesc=617-033&region=africa

https://www.peacecorps.gov/resources/donors/contribute/projdetail.cfm?projdesc=617-034&region=africa

Demons Hit School

Here's an interesting article from the local news paper about demons invading a primary school. You may have to subscribe to the New Vision to view it.

The struggle & about being 'trained'

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 10:03:00 +0000

I received a phone call the other day from Olivia, a Ugandan friend of mine who used to manage the Sky Blue restaurant. She was calling to tell me that she had succeeded in raising just over $100 for her post secondary school fees. A majority of that came from her uncle. Her mother died in an auto accident over a year ago and her father is a peasant farmer. She was calling to ask me if I would give her some money. I had already given her some, but she needed more if she was going to be able to attend school. She probably needed an additional $50.

That’s life in Uganda. I’ve received several such phone calls and letters from people asking for ‘top-up’ money for school fees or other things. They come by way of not only phone calls but text messages and notes under my door. Once a man came into my office because he heard there was a white man there and he proceeded to tell me that his wife was sick and he needed money to get her to a hospital. I generally give away a fair portion of my Peace Corps income each month. I don’t really feel like it’s my money. It’s your money. Tax payers money. And it’s such a small amount that trying to save it up to ‘get ahead’ would be like trying to fill a swimming pool with a thimble.

It’s even futile to get a job and try to work to save up money. The going rate for a worker in a restaurant is about $1 a day and if you go to school and try to work in the evenings it’s even less than that. Many school students eat beans and rice for every single lunch and dinner (our equivalent of Raman noodles?). Breakfast is similar. Not to mention that if you’re a female then you’re subject to sexual harassment which runs rampant here with very few laws to protect women, not to mention the general stereotype of women’s inferiority. The belief here is that if a woman wears the wrong clothing (pants or a skirt that shows her knees) then she is asking to be raped and that it’s HER fault if she is.

You know, I think on these things and I always go back to what a land of opportunity America is. How despite what we would consider high unemployment rates, there are jobs available for people willing to work. There are opportunities to succeed and get ahead.

Nutritional Supplement

Jacob moved across town several months ago so our chats have been sporadic. No longer do we just sit around with time to kill talking about anything feasibly interesting and terribly mundane. The other day, however, he came over looking for a particular type of tree he had seen before. This tree has very nutritious leaves. The leaves can be mixed into a number of meals. By weight, he said, the leaves contain 4x the Vitamin A as a carrot and 4x the calcium of milk, thus acting as a nutritional supplement for people whose diet is mainly rice and beans.

Drama Kings & Queens

Our Compassion kids recently competed in a drama competition that was held for the Compassion centers in this region. I was very impressed with the way in which it was organized. Instead of shipping 20 or so kids from each center to a central place to have all of the dramas, which would have been a costly ordeal, albeit exciting. They instead drove around and video taped each 10 minute performance. The kids were to write a drama about “What general thoughts do you have about Compassion.” Or something like that. I tried to volunteer to work with the kids to do dramas but I was told that I wasn’t qualified and they needed a ‘trained’ person to teach them. OK, I thought to myself. I don’t know if all of Uganda is like this but I’ve run across it a number of times. For example, we have a lady here who comes and teaches the kids when they are here. She’s a wonderful teacher, especially with younger kids which I think takes a special talent. However, she isn’t a ‘qualified’ teacher. She isn’t ‘trained’, though she’s one of our better teachers. So, when it comes time to hire teachers next time around, I’m quite certain she won’t be among those hired, because she isn’t ‘trained’.

Back to the Drama Kids. They won the competition! They were the best group, and it’s no surprise. They are amazing, bright kids with loads of talent. Give credit to their ‘trained’ drama teacher. Maybe there is something to hiring a ‘trained’ person after all…

Pickpockets and Kenya Elections

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 13:18:00 +0000

Pickpockets in Kampala

I spent Christmas with my friends in Entebbe. It was incredible to say the least. I had pizza on the beach of Lake Victoria one day and then stuffed the most amazingly rich food into my face the rest of the time all the while enjoying the peace of not being called Muzungu for the first time in several days.

Getting into Kapmala, was another story entirely. I had my backpack stuffed full and as a white guy I’m, of course, a target for pickpockets. I was careful to not pack any valuables into pockets that were easily accessable. I had even put my phone deep into my backpack to get it out of my pocket.

Kampala was PACKED with people on December 23^rd. Everyone trying to leave the city at once to go visit their loved ones, who all seem to live in the bush. As I made my way through the bus park to the taxi park to get to Entebbe, I noticed a 13 year old boy wearing a read shirt, following me. My walking strategy is to quickly duck and dodge in and out of people, leaving a difficult trail for someone to follow. I glanced back a second time and saw this same red-shirted boy who caught my eye this time and then proceeded to look all around like he was looking for someone in particular. I reached back for one of my side pockets and found it open. (I had cleverly put my underwear in those pockets to surprise any pickpocketers.) I just stood there and pointed at the kid while staring him down. He got the message and bolted.

That was pickpocket attempt #1. The second came as I was about to board the bus back to my village. I was bargaining for my bus fare (this was before the Kenya riots and hiked gas prices) when a laughing and seemingly friendly man who was trying to befriend me, casually reached into my pocket where my phone was. It was subtle, but not so subtle that I didn’t notice. I jerked back and put my hand in the pocket and half pretended that I didn’t notice. I don’t want to react too much in such a situation. I’m the only white guy there and who knows how many of his friends are around. Not that I don’t feel safe, I just feel outnumbered and I’m never sure who would pick to be on my side in case fisticuffs broke out.

Kenya

As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, the election in Kenya has been in the news. The current president is being accused of rigging the election as early results had reported the opposition leading by a million votes before the current president miraculously pulled out a victory.

Since that time 600 people have reportedly been killed and 100,000 have fled their homes. Here in Uganda the effects have been felt. Uganda is a landlocked country that is dependent on Kenya for use of ports in Mombassa. The scuffles caused the import of goods, namely gasoline, to cease which then caused fuel stations to ration their petroleum and for some to run out all together. Once the filling stations ran out those who did have gas were reportedly selling it for upwards of $20 a gallon. Public vehicles are charging upwards of 4 times their usual rates, which are already hiked due to the multitude that travel during the holidays. Fortunately for PCVs, we use bikes and thus haven’t been as effected by the petroleum shortage, but we have also been ordered to stay at our sites.

Here's the latest article about running the marathon.

Christmas in Uganda

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 09:19:00 +0000

Christmas is upon us, but you wouldn’t know it from the looks of things. It’s just another day. My favorite restaurant, Sky Blue, just today (December 20^th) put up about 3 Christmas decorations. I’ve heard 3 Christmas songs on the local radio so far this month and I saw 3 French hens in Kampala last week (not really, but I needed another “3” to throw in). The only other indication that it’s Christmas is the occasional flyer in the newspaper from Game, the country’s only Wal-Mart type store in Kampala, a mere 5 hour drive from here.

The Big Question

Corruption. How bad is it? Recently Jacob was asked an interesting question by an Australian man. “If you wanted to give money to a person or organization and you had to go through a Ugandan that you didn’t know very well, how many Ugandans would mis-manage that money and pocket some?” Get a number in your head before you continue to read. Guess for yourself what percentage of Ugandans would pocket some of that money which is supposed to pay someone’s school fees or go toward building an orphanage for needy kids. Got it?

I’ve posed this same question to Ugandans and their answer is shocking. The answer is typically within the same range of one another and the answer comes quickly, as if they need no time to even consider it. The answer: 90% Ninety percent. 9 out of 10 people would help themselves first before putting the money towards who it is supposed to go to, regardless of how needy they are. This is the answer across the board. So the question that begs to be asked is, why?

“We live in poverty. We are more needy than those people in America and we have extended family to look after and provide for,” was one answer I received. “Won’t you feel guilty for taking school fees from some child?” “Most people wouldn’t. But we would still put that child in a school, but they would be sent to a lesser school than what the money was sent for.”

So maybe the question to ask you is: What percentages of Americans would do the same?

In the nearly 2 years I’ve been with Compassion I haven’t once seen money go where it shouldn’t go. I haven’t once seen the staff get something for themselves or try to work the system. Whether it’s money for the kids or money that’s going into the community center. The people I work with are very trustworthy and show a lot of integrity.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Ugandan

#2 & #1. I have to do two because I skipped a week of blogging in there somewhere.

#2. Recycle everything imaginable. Plastic bags can be wadded up and tied together to make cheap soccer balls. The rubber from inner tubes can be cut into long strips and used as bungee cords. And you would be shocked by the amount of uses you can get from banana trees and leaves!

#1. Raise goats. Sure your neighbors might think it’s strange that you live in town and have goats grazing in your front yard, but goats multiply quickly. If you have 5 goats, in a year you may have 15. The meat is tasty, they can help you mow your lawn and the droppings make great fertilizer.

2007 MTN Marathon Moments

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 11 Dec 2007 16:17:00 +0000

The MTN (cell phone company) Marathon was this Sunday. It was #7 for me and the first marathon I’ve run 2 times. Two other PCVs ran the marathon and another 2 ran the 10k. How incredibly blessed (I honestly don’t know any other word to describe it) were we to have friends like Jen and Przemek (psh-EH-mek), our missionary friends who used to live in my village but have since moved to Entebbe, drive us around Kampala. They took us to eat Italian the night before and then they picked us up at 6am (they were even 15 minutes early) to take us to the start line.

Allow me to describe the race. For weeks now the newspapers had bragged “6,000 to run Marathon”. In reality, as I suspected, only a few hundred ran the marathon distance of 42.2 km (26.2 miles). The rest of the “6,000” ran the 10k and the new half marathon. We arrived at Lugogo Mall, an upscale strip mall with Game (think Wal-Mart) and Shop-Rite (think Krogers), just as dawn was beginning to break. Kampala weather is generally hot and sticky so an early start time is imperative. My running mate, Chad, had purchased some, I can only describe them as, 80’s style spandex to run the marathon in. As if he wouldn’t stand out enough just being a white guy… After we stretched and warmed up we made our way to the starting line. There was a massive bottle neck of people as everyone tried to get into the blocked gate of the starting corral. I’m pretty sure that white men introduced the concept of a line here because it is noticeably lacking. When the starting time came and went and still the corral was empty, a few anxious runners charged the guards holding up the gates, toppling the guards and the gates, and allowed the marathoners to approach the start line. The half and 10k runners had to wait until the marathon began.

The few hundred of us anxiously approached the start line. Runners were chomping at the bit to get going. The starter had to call them back 3 times before officially starting the race. As I looked around I saw a number of baffling sights. The man in front of me had on a full sized, green book bag. It didn’t seem heavy, maybe holding a jacket. A few runners were wearing sweat pants though the temperature was mild, it would get very hot very quickly. I also saw a wide variety of shoes. High tops, casual dress shoes, boots… one guy had on 1 shoe and 1 sandal.

The race began and people surged ahead. Chad and I went slow and steady. In the first mile I counted 7 people walking. “Only 25 miles to go” I thought to myself as I felt pity for them.

Easily the most shocking moment of the entire run, and possibly the most shocking moment of my entire time in Uganda, came at the 2 mile point. A man from the crowd wearing casual pants, a button up shirt and loosely tied boots jumped into the race a few feet in front of me. “He’s not going to get very far dressed like that,” I said to Chad. Shortly there after a guard, wearing a navy blue sweater and carrying a silver shotgun went after him. When the man refused to stop running the guard began swinging his shotgun at him and hitting him, hard, in the head and legs! He hit him 5 times with a loaded shot gun and then managed to punch the guy in the head with his fist. Still, the bandit runner continued. For a time the guard was running behind him, yelling something to him in Luganda while pointing the shotgun at his back. The people around me yelled “No” and even covered their ears. I was nearly certain the man was to be shot. It cost $2.50 to run this marathon. It’s over $100 to run some in the US. We were in the middle of the pack. I can’t imagine what this guy was thinking or what the guard was trying to prove exactly, but eventually we were able to convince the guard to back off and let him go. I was later told by Japheth, my friend and supervisor at Compassion, that there could have been state officials running the marathon and the man could have been looking to harm someone, possibly even Chad and I, though it seemed unlikely at the time.

A few miles later we turned off the main roads and into “The real Kampala”. Back roads, little shops and stores lined the streets. Garbage everywhere. Kids changing “How are you Muzungu.” Thick clouds of black exhaust from passing trucks. Pot holes large enough for me to lie down in. The elite half marathon group BLEW past us with mud splattered on their backs, kicked up from their fast pace. One by one the halfers went by. You could distinguish the half and the full by the amount of mud on their backs (marathoners were running a slower pace, thus less mud).

Hearing people cheering was unusual. The spectating Ugandans didn’t exactly cheer. They generally yelled something at us and then laughed. I heard someone yell “Sadam” and someone else yell “Bin Ladin”. I even heard “Mexico”. The funniest was when someone yelled “Muzungu Big Balls” to Chad about his spandex… Groups of 30 or so were especially intimidating because you never knew what they were going to yell or do. I fully expected someone to reach out and grab me as I went by, but it never happened. There was plenty of water along the course. Bottles of it. I began carrying the water bottle with me and dousing kids and the most annoying spectators. Fortunately they seemed to think that was funny. Around the 10k point, down a long hill, I began hearing some loud cheering from a small, motley crew of white people. Unusual, I thought, to hear cheering. Jacob and 2 other PCVs had a big sign saying “Only 25 miles to go” with our names on it. Jacob’s idea of humor. They were really yelling for us and it was a nice boost of adrenaline.

The course continued on through Kampala. It was extremely hilly! Extremely! The biggest hill near a place called Backpackers. All the focus for the first half was on that hill. Make it up that hill and you’ve made the marathon. Chad and I reached the hill, buried our heads and chugged along. We passed a few people along the way, including a white guy and girl. Upon reaching the top there was a down hill then another hill, though not as steep. Chad began getting side cramps and the other white guy caught up with me and we ran most of the rest of the way together. With 3 miles to go I could tell he had fresher legs than I had so I told him to go ahead. I thought I would finish in 3:30. The course was only sparsely marked so when 3:25 came I started looking for the finish. “Only 5 more minutes,” I kept telling myself. 5 minutes went by. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. I thought I saw Lugogo Mall at one point and let out a huge “Thank You” only to discover I was mistaken. Finally I came to marking: 41km. I remembered it from last year. They tell you when there is 1 km to go. I’m not sure if that’s beneficial or torturous. As I came around the last corner there was a huge crowd cheering. Not Ugandans. It was about 10 PCVs who had come to see the race, but it felt like 100 of them. They cheered for everyone as they passed, but especially for us! I think I sprinted all the way to the finish line. They were so supportive. The Ugandan runners, as they passed, didn’t quite know what to think. They weren’t used to hearing people cheer them on and had to double check that they were cheering for them. Some smiled, some waved, but all picked up their pace a little bit as they crossed the finish line.

My finish time: 3:42. All things considered, I’ll take that any day.

Ebola outbreak

There’s an Ebola outbreak in Uganda. The newspapers are reporting that over 100 people have contracted the deadly virus and over 20 have died thus far. They are also reporting that it is in 8 districts. The Peace Corps is telling us that it’s only in 1 district and that many of the suspected cases are coming back negative. The Newspaper is trying to sell newspapers. The Peace Corps is looking out for our health… In 2000-01 there was also an outbreak. Ebola is named after a river in DR Congo where it was first discovered. Generally it is lethal 60% of the time. It is spread by contact with a contagious person. Symptoms include fever, diarrhea, upset stomach, vomiting, and bloody discharge. We have been warned by the PC about it and encouraged to continually wash our hands and avoid contact with sick people. I’m not sure how bad it would have to get before PC will become proactive, but rest assured, the #1 priority of the PC is the health and safety of the volunteers.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Ugandan.

#3. Haul your water from the nearest swamp or stream. Think for a moment about where the closest pond, creek or stream is. Then think about lugging two 15L containers back and forth from your house to get water. Round trip for some takes over 2 hours… but think of the money you’d save on your water bill.

Internet Indeed

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 13:05:00 +0000

We have achieved a great level of civilization! We now have the internet at my Compassion site! We are now ready to conquer the world! More and more messages that are sent from my site to the Compassion regional offices in Mbarara and Kampala are sent via email. The modem, which is an interesting little device about the size of a small cell phone and which inserts directly into a usb port, cost around $200 and it will cost $70 a month. $70 a month sounds pricy, and it is, but it’s really all that’s available here and the Compassion head offices are trying to get as many of their projects (there are currently 155 in Uganda) on board as they can. It operates using a small chip that is typically in a cell phone called a SIM card and thus uses a cell phone signal to transmit information. I only tried it out this morning. It’s not fast, but it does what it’s supposed to do. The only limitation is that with this package you can only transmit 600 MB of information a month. The unlimited internet package was $120 a month.

Why my dad would have made a great Peace Corps Volunteer

I was thinking about my dad for some reason the other day. And I was thinking that he would have made a great Peace Corps volunteer if they would have had it back in the 50’s. My dad turned 80 last week. It seems like I’ve been bragging to my friends for some years now that my father was 80 and that he mowed 30 yards every summer (though he’s cut back recently). I find a lot of correlations to what my father taught me, by the way he lived, and what it takes to be a PCV. Allow me to indulge:

-Frugal. I live on a very modest salary. I have to budget and think about what I spend. My father raised 5 kids on a teacher’s salary and grew up in the depression era. I can’t remember how many times my brother and I would split a large order of fries from McDonlads. “One large Coke and 2 courtesy coups, please.”

-Greeting everyone. I can’t wait to get home where I can blend into the thread of society again. I’m the type of guy who likes to slip into the back of the room and sit unnoticed and observe. Here, I am given the seat up front, I am stared at daily and greeted by everyone… My father seems to know everyone in my home town and greets them often. How he has managed to thus avoid a job as a Wal-Mart greeter is beyond me. Maybe he’s saving that for his 90’s.

-Exercise. My father was a great basketball player in his day. My mode of transportation through these hills is a bicycle… you do the math.

-Helper. I think the reason my father went into education is because he is naturally gifted at helping others. He just has a heart for it. And he does it without expecting anything in return. If that’s not Peace Corps material, I don’t know what is.

-Patience …he’s getting there.

-Reading. I’ve read more books in my one and a half years here than I’ve read in my life. And that’s a good thing. Although I don’t remember seeing him reading too many books, if you count newspapers he’s far ahead of the curve.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Uganda.

#4. Don’t buy toilet paper, just use scraps of regular paper or leaves. Seriously. Even people who earn a decent living do this.

Touch Football, A Strike

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 11:52:00 +0000

I think I ate more this Thanksgiving than in all the years past! Despite not having the luxury of a conventional oven, consistent power, or a nearby grocery store, we were still able to successfully have a superb Thanksgiving dinner this year including Turkey Bowl II, a rowdy game of touch football. Instead of the usual turkey, we instead had fried chicken (of sorts), stuffing, mashed potatoes, potato salad, beef stew, along with no-bake cookies and apple pie for dessert. The chicken prepareation was especially interesting as Lonnie put a broom handle over the head of the chicken and then yanked up on it’s feet to, in effect, de-head the thing. I wanted him to put it down in order to see a chicken run around without it’s head, but it was to no avail. The chicken just flapped while he held it instead. The blood did squirt onto Marcus’ face though. All in all it was a great time of feasting and being thankful with a number of friends, some new, some old.

On Strike

I went on a school visit this past week. We visited a Catholic secondary school way out in the bush. This particular school has a female head teacher. 3 years ago when she first arrived, the students protested to having a female as their head teacher. They organized a strike for when she arrived. She arrived, however, during the Easter break, so the students organized their strike 3 weeks after her arrival. Later I asked what it meant to have a strike here and Japheth informed me that it wasn’t pretty. The students, 600-700 of them form a wall in front of the school and won’t let the teachers enter. If this particular female teacher would try to enter by way of a car, the students would light the car on fire, break out the windows and remove the teacher, stone and kill her!

What about the police? I asked. In the deep bush, there may be only about 5 police men stationed at a post and they would be essentially powerless to stop a group of 700. They cannot use lethal force and they don’t have the luxury of tear gas or non lethal crowd control.

Eventually, somehow, this female teacher was able to enter the school peacefully and she’s been there for the past 3 years. She now has a night watchman guard her house and the staff quarters. Women’s rights have come a long way in Uganda, but you can see that there are still problems. There are currently 2 women head teachers at the 6 secondary schools around my village.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas while living like a Ugandan.

#5. Own only 3-4 outfits. When I bought my first house I was surprised by the tiny closets. A hanger wouldn’t even fit in there without tuning sideways. I was told that, back in the day, there were only pegs on a board in the back for the clothes. That’s how it is here. Kids have only a few clothes. A school uniform, an outfit for church and travel and play clothes. Adults may even have fewer depending on their income level.

Invitation to stay

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 09:08:00 +0000

I was invited by my organization to extend my service this week. The overseer of Compassion who is also the church leader and my neighbor came over to my house and asked why I couldn’t stay… for another 2 years. When the Compassion board met they discussed that it would be best if I stayed to continue the work that I was doing. I admit that I let out a few chuckles under my breath. I couldn’t help it. I tried to explain that in 6 months my 2 years would be up and that it would be time to go home. I like it here. I’ve enjoyed my PC experience and I’ve enjoyed immensely working with Compassion International, but at the same time I’m ready to go back to my homeland. I’ve considered doing the Peace Corps again, possibly in another continent, but right now I’m just ready to come home.

Right and Wrong

If there are 3 things I despise, it’s lying, cheating and stealing. They’re all the same in my book and I hate them equally. So when I found out recently that my organization was lying about conducting their home visits to the children I was irate! Each project is graded by Compassion. They pull out the children’s folders and look to see if the information in the folder is up to date. In each child’s folder are copies of their school reports from each term, medical records and doctors visits, photographs, family history, as well as records of when they were visited by our staff. Projects get graded on a number of things at each project and the children’s files are among them. So, when grading was approaching in April (when I was in the US for vacation) they forged a number of the home visit forms to appear that the children have been visited. This would NOT have happened if I had been here. It’s deceptive and it cheats the children first and foremost while my organization protects themselves instead of taking one on the chin for NOT visiting the children. Now, granted, it’s time consuming and can be expensive to visit each child’s home. About half of our kids are supposed to be visited yearly and another half every 6 months. The 8 children who have HIV are supposed to be visited monthly. I would be glad to do the home visits myself but I can’t effectively communicate with the caregivers so I would be limited in what I could do. First of all I would have a difficult time finding the homes without being able to ask or understand directions. Secondly I wouldn’t be able to accurately assess the needs of the family without being able to communicate with them. Have there been any sicknesses lately? How far do you go to fetch water? Are there any immediate needs that you have? I could only look and observe, which is at least something. I was so upset that I had to leave the office for a time to cool down. Granted, also, they do visit the children unofficially. I know they do. But sometimes it’s not documented which leads to inaccurate information about who has and hasn’t been visited! Oh, Uganda!

Home Visits

On Thursday I did go to visit 4 homes with Japheth, the director. We’ve been advised to visit the children in pairs because of a recent incident that happened in another village. A pastor of a church was visiting some Compassion families when the mother of one of the children hit the man with a brick! She then claimed that he was trying to rape her. So, now we’re in pairs.

The reason it’s so important to visit the kids’ homes is for this reason. We visited Sarah’s home. Sarah is a sweet girl. She’s in P4 or P5. She always comes to Compassion looking smart and clean, however, upon arriving at her home you see another side entirely. Her home has been visited before by the staff, but never by me. Some of our children have never been visited in the 5 years of the project. Sarah lives with her grandmother and grandfather. A very elderly couple. She also stays there in a small house with an older sister (maybe 12) and a younger brother. This family really has nothing. The old man can barely walk. They have so little that they can scarcely go into town to get things because of the distance (about 5 miles). Once we have visited, we can monitor the family more closely. We will know the situation better and will better be able to care for them.

As a volunteer, many times, my hands are tied as to what I can do. For many reasons. Because of language. Because I’m an outsider. Because I just “don’t know” the African way of life.

Ah well. Re group. Re organize. Remember why I’m here and reform the angle at which to attack the problem. “The squeaky wheel gets the oil” as they say.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money by living like a Ugandan

#6 Bike everywhere you go with your wife and infant child riding side saddle on the bike rack. No need to worry about rising fuel costs. Everyone here has the same ‘Hero’ bikes, so there’s no complaining from the wife about getting the newest model. When biking, the fresh air and scenery are better than when driving. Plus, if you have a hefty wife, think of the great workout it’ll be…

Look what the cats dragged in

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 07:01:00 +0000

Corruption

A volunteer friend of mine was telling me about events within his organization. They provide assistance to groups of the poorest people deep in the village, but in order to do so they rely on native volunteers to report to them who is in most need of assistance. Recently they found out that these native (Ugandan) volunteers were charging these poor people to be on the list to receive support! -Social Injustice. Another way this organization supports poor children is by donating block grants. Instead of giving money to a school, for example, they donate items in exchange for a certain number of orphans to attend school for free. Recently they found out that the head teacher received these items and was also charging the students to attend the school. –Social Injustice.

I hate to even have to tell this story but my running kids, upon receiving donated shoes that were sent from the US, quit running. They had to run with me 10 times to receive the shoes but disappeared after receiving them. I had to go back to the school and explain to them that they were given to them to run in and then threaten to take them away if they didn’t run again with me a certain number of times. Upon explaining this to my Ugandan friend, he exclaimed, with a smile, “Ah, you forgot that this is Africa.”

You forgot that this is Africa? What is that supposed to mean? I didn’t forget that this is Africa, I was just hoping that people would be more honest than that. The fact that he even said that got me fired up. By saying You forgot that this is Africa it just excuses people to continue to behave that way. When does this stop being Africa and start being a civilized society that loves thy neighbor as thyself.

I hate writing about corruption because that seems to be all that people hear and thus think about when talking about Africa. I even ask myself what I would do if I were in the same situation. Making very little money and using whatever means necessary to get ahead in life. It makes it difficult to work in such an environment. It makes it difficult to trust anyone. There’s also the “Muzungu price” which is to say that white people get charged 2 and 3 and 5 times the regular price of things because they are assumed to have money.

I guess I think that is why staying is so important. Fleeing is the easy answer. Leaving and saying, “I can’t deal with people who don’t want help” isn’t the right answer but instead, staying, struggling and creatively solving the problem is a better solution. There is a whole lot of help that is needed here and giving up won’t alleviate the poverty situation.

Where I work

I haven’t seen any corruption within my organization in the year and a half I’ve been here. When I first got here someone was taking some food items (sugar and flour) home with them from our storeroom, but it was stopped right away. There are a lot of checks and balances in place within Compassion to keep those things in check. They have frequent internal audits plus checks must be signed by several individuals before they can be cashed or banked. There’s a lot of red tape but in a way it’s good.

“I was just trying to be a good mother”

That’s a line from Into the Woods. That’s how I felt last week when my cat brought into my bedroom the 2^nd half-dead rat to teach her babies how to hunt and eat meat.

Rain, Rain Go Away

Another Saturday when the Compassion kids came and another rainout. We have such a need for a building. Meeting outside isn’t the solution. The rain forced us into our small offices and our day’s plan was then discarded. Fortunately we had power and I was able to show them my friend Shelly’s video she made on Life Skills, specifically learning about the facts of HIV and making healthy relationship decisions. Then that was followed by The Gods Must Be Crazy, so I guess it wasn’t a total waste of a day.

Here is a link to the recent article I submitted to my local paper regarding fundraising for our new building.

http://www.rushvillerepublican.com/archivesearch/local_story_309202735.html

12 Days of Christmas. How to live like a Ugandan and save money for Christmas.

#7 Pay-as-you-go Phones. It’s hard to mail a phone bill to a mud hut on a dirt path. So instead, people buy airtime ahead of time. You buy a little card and scratch to reveal the pin number. Phone conversations typically last about 10 seconds because you’re charged for each second you talk. Incoming calls, however, are free. There are no free nights or free weekends and you can’t call network to network for free either (though one company did have that promotion going on for a while). I was paying $75 a month for my cell phone. Here I pay about $15 a month.

Movin’ on up, to the East Side

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 12:10:00 +0000

My wash lady is moving soon. My sister is now paying for her daughter’s secondary school fees which has freed Justine up enough financially to escape the poverty trap. She now owns an acre and a half of fertile farm land which already has a small banana plantation along with a decent house. She had told me that she needed land to grow crops which she didn’t have at her previous home. She also said she needed land where she could be buried when she died. They don’t have cemeteries here; people are buried on their own land. If they don’t have land then they’re buried buy relatives or friends. As I walked the property with her she was telling me all of her new plans for the place. She’s already adding a sitting room and has plans for a new kitchen. It’s like anyone is when the buy a new place. They see the possibilities. They are filled with new hope. And hope springs eternal… or is it ‘hope floats’… something like that. At any rate, I’m extremely excited to see her with her own place where she can eek out a decent living.

Attack of the white ants!

In Moses time, they dealt with plagues of locusts. Here we have grasshoppers and white ants. It’s not exactly a plague, but it can seem like it at times. Every morning I go outside and I see their discarded, white wings on the ground under the outside light. I rarely find the bugs themselves on the ground so I don’t know what happens to them. Power has been funny here last week. It’s been on and off. One night it was off and I had my lantern cranked up so that I could read. These white ants, which aren’t ants nor are they white, were swarming my room. They are attracted to light and they were finding cracks in my door and windows. There were dozens of them in my place. They have 1” wings and they look like a long, skinny cockroach. Fortunately I have 5 exterminators at my house. My cat, Akamogo, and her 4 kittens. They chased and ate every single one of the ants/cockroaches. It was actually fun. I walked around with my headlamp and knocked the bugs down and the cats would pounce on them and crunch them up. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. I recently found one of our Compassion kids who had caught a number of them crawling wingless across the ground on the way to the center and she had stashed them in her mathematics set (something like a tin pencil box). The locals cook them and eat them as a snack!

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Ugandan.

#8. Walk almost everywhere you go and carry things (up to 80 lbs) on your head as you do so. You not only save money but you gain strength through exercising as well as reduce overall pollution. For an extra workout, tie your infant child to your back. Unlike adults, kids like to be swaddled. When they’re all snug and cozy they sleep like a… baby.

School Days

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 08:29:00 +0000

Last week I decided to visit one of the area primary schools for the day. The pictures I took were probably the best set of pictures I’ve taken here, so if you get a chance, check out the photos on the flickr.com badge on the right. I’ve spent over a year and a half here and I don’t know a great deal about how the primary schools function as a whole. Mutanoga Primary School is one of the primary schools where a number of our Compassion children attend. It’s approximately 4 miles from the Compassion center and my home and it’s a well run school in large part because they have good leadership from their head teacher (principal). They have 746 students and 15 teachers with 3 ‘helper teachers’. (50 students per teacher.) They currently have 12 classrooms for the 8 grades (including nursery school kids) and are constructing 3 more classrooms. The school is free for the students, the government pays the teachers salaries, but parents are asked to pay 8,000 Ush ($4) for additional projects, such as the new construction. The following are my observations from the day:

I begin my visit with the Primary 7 (P7) students. 7^th graders. These are the oldest students in the school. They can be anywhere from 11 to 19 years old. The students all rise upon my entering. They are all wearing their school uniforms: pink shirts with navy blue shorts or skirts. The head teacher is teaching and they are doing graphs. No text books. The teacher is teaching in English. There are just under 60 students in a smaller than normal (by US standards) sized classroom. The students sit 3 to a desk. A blackboard is in the front of the class with a large paper taped to the board with a graph, x & y axis and grid. The students are learning coordinates (3, -2). Around the room several other graphs are taped up to the walls. They all read “distance vs time”. There is also a hand drawn map of Africa and a hand drawn picture of 2 simple machines. Most of the kids have shoes on here, which has come to be my observation of their age and poverty level.

“Who can calculate the area of this figure? Giftee?” As Gift goes to the board the teacher uses a piece off a foam mattress to erase another section of the blackboard. “In ½ h(a x b), what is h, class?” A few students blurt out the answer. “ah, ah…” the teacher says then mumbles something in Runyankore to the extent of, “You should raise your hands instead of speaking out of turn.”

There is no ceiling in this classroom, only an aluminum roof which means when it rains it’ll be almost impossible to teach due to the noise. Even a light rain creates a heck of a lot of noise on a metal roof!

The students don’t have text books. They take meticulous notes in small notebooks. They use newspaper to create covers for their notebooks for decoration and protection.

“Who can name the shape?” “A triangle,” a student replies. “It is a special shape. What shape is eeet?” Class, in perfect unison, “A right angled triangle.”

The students are asked to draw the graph in their notebooks. A flurry of notebooks and metal math sets shuffle. The math sets include a ruler, protractor, compass and eraser. The students rush to copy the graph from the board.

I then shift to the P4 classroom. I can smell the multitude of kids upon entering. It’s a musty smell of mud huts, feet and bodies. It’s a smell I’m accustomed to from living here for so long. As I enter the kids again stand and I’m greeted to the all too familiar clap clap clap-clap-clap, Clap! I immediately notice several of our Compassion kids I’m seated again in the back of the classroom next to Immaculate Harriet, one of my favorite little girls from Compassion. She has severe burns over 90 % of her body from a house fire where she hid under the bed while the blaze burned. Despite her disfigurement she has one of the most beautiful smiles of any child I’ve seen in Africa and she’s a good athlete to boot. Her little hands are misshaped and her fingers curl up. She has to hold her pen in a special way between her fingers just to write, but she’s worked hard to overcome her limitations.

This room has around 80 students in it and is a little bigger than the previous classroom. Far less shoes here. I greet the class and tell them I’m happy to visit them.

“Reproduction in bads. Reproduction in what? Bads (birds). How do we call a male bad?”

Class, “A cock.”

“And a female bad?”

“A hen.”

The teacher is a man called Frances. The students are learning science. He teaches mostly in English but often repeats himself in Runyankore.

“The incubation period of a bad takes 21 what? Days. Which is equal to 3 what? Weeks.”

After class I spend some time talking to Frances. He tells me that as a teacher he makes 200,000 Ush a month. $114. Less than $4 a day. That’s 1/3 of what I make on my very modest Peace Corps salary. There are times when teachers will go months at a time when their salaries are delayed. He also tells me that teacher’s pay is supposed to increase with experience, but to get that raise you have to submit forms to the local government. So far, he tells me, none of his forms have been approved for a raise in his 5 years.

Next it’s on to P1A class. The larger classes are divided into 2 groups, A and B. They are divided randomly, not by smarts. “Hello Saa. You ah wel-o-come.” My nostrils are again greeted with the same aroma. It’s a small classroom. The desks seem to be bigger but maybe that’s because the kids are smaller. 60 kids. 1 teacher. Same uniforms. The alphabet is written in chalk across the top of the blackboard. Upper and lower case. The door is labeled with the word “door”. The only poster in the room is one which says, “Days of the week. The first day is Sunday. The second is _______. The third is ________. “

This class is taught in Runyankore. I recognize some of the words on the board. Enkoko = chicken. Omwana = child. Taata = father. Ente = cow. If I started attending P1A regularly I could definitely improve my Runyankore. Every time I look up from writing there are at a minimum a dozen pairs of eyes on me.

Earlier, as I was sitting in the office waiting to begin my school day visit it was the P1 kids that crowded around the doors and windows to see the Muzungu. I was told that they would be ‘very happy’ to have me in class with them today. The head teacher invited the kids into the office and what felt like 100 kids (though it was probably half that) crowded around me to shake my hand and touch my skin. It’s a little overwhelming. It always reminds me of scenes of Jesus walking through crowds of people wanting to be touched and healed.

The P1A teacher is called Jolly. It took me 3 times before I understood. John? Joann? Jolly! She was patient enough for me to get it right. A sign of a good teacher, indeed!

The teacher asks for any student to come up and read a simple sentence in Runyankore. A wave of hands go up. A few students stand and others grunt, “mmm, mmm…” trying to be called upon. If you have taught elementary school then you know what I mean by, “mmmm, mmmm….” Nice to know that wasn’t just your class, huh? Young Boaz approaches the board, points a stick high to what he’s reading. “Mariira nebigambo byawe.” They read it just like any 1^st grader would read it. Sounding it out with mistakes in phonetics all along the way.

When a student goes to the board and fills in the blank correctly they receive the ‘universal reward’. Clap clap clap-clap-clap, Clap!

The classroom is located immediately next to one of the school’s 2 latrines (out houses). When the wind picks up I’m smacked in the face with the odor. No doubt this is why P1 is at this end of the school and not P7.

The teacher smiles a lot. It’s as if she is amused at some of the student’s responses and she is pleased to teach them. There is a lot of repetition in what they are doing. The teacher reads something and the kids repeat it. There is a lot of audible learning. Maybe that’s how 1^st grade was for me, I can’t remember. “Ente zituha amate.” Aha! I know that one! “Cow’s give us milk.”

“Who can erase the board for me?” I think is what the teacher says. 2 boys sprint to the front and grab pieces of foam and rub the board as if the winner gets a prize. They erase as high up on the board as they can reach. The teacher finishes the job and writes “English” across the top. “Now go to number 2. Go to number…? Two.”

They all take out a worksheet that says, “Primary One Term III Examination” across the top. They’ve all been graded in red pen. Simple English. Fill in the missing letters: s_n (son and sun were accepted), sc_ool, b_ok. Then it went to a picture section. “Fill in yes or no. Is this a box? Is this a chair?” I look around at the student’s papers and see scores in the 70’s, 50’s, 40’s, and 30’s. Ellenah scored an 88%. The kids in upper and middle primary generally score in the 50’s on average.

When teaching English the teacher speaks entirely in English. “We say one boy but two _____.” “We say one house but six _____.” When a student is incorrect the teacher says, “Is it? You are lying.” Which may sound harsh but it’s a common thing to say in the local language.

On to P1B. Tuwensye Maud’s class. I pretend to understand her name when she said it but she was on to me so she wrote it out for me. P1B meets in a structure built of mud bricks. It’s an older, deteriorating building with mud floors, not concrete like the other classrooms I’d been in. 70 kids this time. 3 to a desk, sometimes 5. They’re small so they can fit. Not many shoes on any that I see. The whole room has a brown, earthy look. Brown walls, brown floors. Around the room are posters of Jesus. Fairly well drawn either by the teacher or an upper primary student I suspect. Jesus with kids, Jesus with a larger than life sized loaves of bread and fish, Jesus healing a man. There’s also a poster with the upper half covered in pictures of a chair, a book, a blackboard, a teacher, etc and the bottom half with the corresponding words.

The teacher is asking questions. Kids have their hands raised. More of the “mmm, mmm…” responses but this time accompanied by “Teachah! Teachah!”.

The students begin a song. Clapping and singing. The song is about the Creation Story. I hear the word Adam (Adamu) and the word for ‘man’ and see hand gestures of making or creating and pointing to their ribs. 3 kids are brought to the front of the classroom to act out the story. The story is about Adam and Haawa (I have no idea why) but it of course also involves the ‘enjoka’, the snake. They perform a drama. I hear the snake saying things like “God is lying. You won’t die.” Eve or “Haawa” picks an imaginary apple from the tree and throws it at Adam. The kids laugh. The boy then produces a real fruit that he brought for lunch from his pocket and pretends to eat it. Nice touch! Clever for a 1^st grader. The students again laugh. Louder this time.

As I’m leaving I see the kids eating their lunches. A number of kids run home for lunch. That or they’re skipping eating to play for an hour. Many of them have brought small plastic buckets with leftovers from supper the night before. They share lunch with either friends or siblings. I see mostly starchy foods, potatoes, cassava, sweet potatoes, without much, if any protein.

And that concluded my day at the primary school. It was a neat thing to experience. Eye opening. Very different than the States, obviously. Much larger classroom sizes, textbooks used only by the teachers and not by the students. No lunch provided by the school. It’s not a one room schoolhouse. Way too many kids for that to be a possibility. Underpaid teachers. At least that’s the same as in the US. All in all it opened my eyes to the need for aid in their education services.

12 Days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Ugandan.

#9 Grow your own food. OK, so this will be a little difficult to do in the winter but it would also drastically reduce your weekly grocery bill. Grow your own beans, corn, tomatoes, cassava, millet and pumpkins. And while you’re at it, raise 5 goats. The meat is excellent and they don’t require much care. Just tie their hind leg up to a tree and let them graze all day.

Nothing to talk about

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 12:47:00 +0000

I have nothing really to talk about this week. I’ve been looking at a blinking cursor for the past 30 minutes now and my mind is blank. I could tell you about my trousers getting stolen from my clothes line. Or that my cat moved her 4 kittens into my place… again. I could. But I won’t. I could tell you the story of Sheila, one of our little Compassion kids who came up to me with big tears welling in her eyes as she told me that she lost $1 which she was going to use to purchase a math set (compass, ruler, protractor) and as she asked me to help her, I reached into my pockets to discover them empty, just as the tears, one after another, came streaming down her face. (I gave her a math set a few days later.) Or I could tell you about Jacob finding what he thought was a tarantula next to his pit latrine. Now I could tell you that we have $17,950 raised for the Community Center thus far and that the walls are up! (http://bikeforcompassion.blogspot.com) Or I could tell you about the dinner I had this past week in the home of Przemek and Jen, my missionary friends, where 6 different countries (and 5 different states) were represented! You know, I could tell you about the book I’m reading called Mountains Beyond Mountains about a doctor named Paul Farmer in Haiti who is living a radical life and working with the poorest of the poor to treat some of the toughest cases of TB and to change their entire health system in one area of that country. (read the book!) I could tell you about getting up at 3:30 am to watch the Colts game and having to monkey with the DSTV for an hour before I finally got the stinking thing to work! I could tell you about my running club where I run Monday, Wednesday and Friday with 30 or so kids to improve their health and well being. Or I could tell you about my Life Skills classes where I am teaching kids about the dangers of HIV/AIDS, peer pressure, condom use, STDs, drugs/alcohol, decision making, etc. I could tell you about the curriculum I developed for the Compassion kids or that we’re getting ready to install the internet at Compassion for the first time ever. I could tell you about the amazing people I work with every day: Japheth, Barbra, Sarah, MacLean and Donnat. I could tell you that the Purdue group is planning on coming back again next year to work in and around this community.

I could tell you.

Maybe someday I will.

12 days of Christmas. Living like a Ugandan to save money this year for Christmas.

#10. Instead of driving yourself to work, carpool. But first, trade in your car for a Honda Civic. You’d be surprised how many people you can fit in one of those things. The most I’ve heard of was 13. 5 in front, 5 in the back and 3 in the trunk! Just think about how much money for gas you’ll save by carpooling!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 11:45:00 +0000

Give it up Long bus trips aren’t fun. Long bus trips in Africa aren’t fun. I know that I harp on this but it’s true. Bad roads. Cramped seats. My knees up against the seat in front of me. And they overcrowd the thing too so that people have to stand in the aisle. The buses I travel on from Kampala generally begin dropping people off after they’ve been on for at least 4 hours. So when I was sitting in my seat and I saw a woman get on with a baby strapped to her back I knew I had to get up and giver her my seat. I couldn’t let this woman stand for 4 hours with this child. I wonder what the Ugandans thought of that. A white man giving up his seat to an African woman. One old man who was wearing a hat that looked like it came out of Robin Hood (minus the feather) or Gulliver’s Travels grabbed my hand and said “Thank You”. Possibly one of the few English words he knew. But I felt good, giving up my seat. My legs for the next 4 hours disagreed with me. The return of a friend Our friend Shelly came back to our village this week. Jacob and I first met her just a few weeks after arriving here. She came to do an internship with Africare. In her time here she wrote and produced a video in the local language about the dangers of HIV/AIDS. She came back just to show the kids the video, especially the kids who she worked with that were in the video. It was great to see Shelly. She’s arguably one of the funniest girls I know, but she’s also one of the most passionate about Africa and HIV/AIDS awareness that I know. And that’s saying a lot because there are some very passionate people in the Peace Corps (and some that are not so passionate). This is her 6th trip to Africa and she hasn’t even reached her 25th birthday (I don’t think). She works while she’s in school to save up her money to come to Africa. It’s her ‘calling’ in her own words. And she’s a difference maker. She changes a place. She’s a social entrepreneur. I went with her out into the bush to find her actors and to show them the video. The actors and actresses in her video were kids who were part of a program for students who had dropped out of school. Of course whenever you’re showing a video in the bush people flock to see it. We went with Africare and hooked up a TV and DVD player to a generator. We set up in a church for the premier. Before our arrival, however, the church was having classes with upper primary students on confirmation. These kids had come from deep in the bush for confirmation. Upon seeing us they were a little, shall we say… excited. I’m quite sure they had never seen a Muzungu before. At least not up close. They rushed us as we walked up to the church. Fearful at first but when they saw that we came in peace they started to engage in their curiosity. They reached out and touched our skin. They touched Shelly’s hair. If we would turn our head quickly or stop suddenly they all scattered. There were about 100 kids surrounding us. They were curious, apprehensive, fearful and happy all at the same time. It was like something out of a movie and something I haven’t experienced to that extent yet. Being the playful spirits that we were we decided to have some fun with it. We started skipping and all of the kids started laughing and skipping with us. Then we hopped. And they hopped. Then we ran in a circle and they all scattered. One particular older girl was so fearful that whenever Shelly even glanced at her she sprinted away at full speed half smiling but checking her back to see if she was being followed by the strange white people. The video went over very well! The kids were glued to it. The actors in the video, as they watched themselves, weren’t amused with their own performance, so much as they were critical. You could see it in their faces. It was quite interesting. In the end Shelly handed out some gifts to her cast that she had brought from the US. We took some pictures to commemorate the occasion. Shelly seemed to be genuinely sad as we pulled away. She worked so hard with those kids and also on the video itself. She didn’t think I saw it but she shed a tear as she left them. She was so proud of them and she knew that it was the last time she would ever see them again. 12 days of Christmas. How to save money for Christmas by living like a Ugandan. #11 Send your children to school barefooted. I’m sure child protection services may frown on the idea but think of the money you’ll save in not having to buy the latest style of shoes for kids who are going to grow out of them before they wear them out anyway…

Sole Responsibility and Life Skills

noreply@blogger.com (Brian R Dunn) — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 08:55:00 +0000

Sole Responsibility

I need to say a HUGE thank you to Sole Responsibility for sending a dozen shoes for my runners! Sole Responsibility is a non-profit organization based out of Ottawa that collects gently used running shoes and distributes them overseas to thousands of underpriflidged people to wear. Last year they collected 10,000 running shoes to send. Of the half dozen organizations I contacted to help me with shoes for my runners they were the only ones to respond!! Check out their website!! I also need to say an equally HUGE thank you to my sister, Jennifer, and her co-workers for also rounding up several running shoes. The kids LOVE their shoes, they are in GREAT shape (the shoes and eventually the kids). They treat the shoes like I treated my first car. They wash them to a sparkling shine and treat them like gold. They are far superior quality than any shoes they can get here and they will last for a long time! Thank You!!

Life Skills

I’ve begun teaching Life Skills. Basically, Life Skills teaches students to connect the information they know (like the dangers of HIV/AIDS) with behavior change. Often students KNOW the dangers of HIV/AIDS, drugs and alcohol use, peer pressure, etc, but when it comes right down to it, many are sexually active, they don’t use protection… essentially they don’t change their behavior despite ‘knowing’ the risks. So do they really know the risks?

I’m using resources that the Peace Corps has given me. They’re good materials. The first day I had the students help me with a drama. In this drama a girl (Lucy) visited her friend (Rita) who had just had a baby. Rita went on and on reminding Lucy to remember all the advice she had given her to avoid having sex with these boys while she was still in school so that she could finish her education, avoid HIV and live a successful life. Rita also gave Lucy condoms as a precautionary measure if she chose to go ahead and have sex. As it turned out, Lucy had come to tell Rita that she had also become pregnant, reasoning that she didn’t use the condoms because her boyfriend didn’t want to and that the church discourages condom use. When I asked the students if Lucy understood the risks of having sex, they had mixed responses. Some insisted that she did know them, that her friend Rita had clearly explained them to her and that Rita had also demonstrated the risks by becoming pregnant herself. Other students argued that she didn’t know the risks, otherwise she would not have become pregnant. I was shocked that they would think she did not understand the risks despite all of the warnings and evidence provided by her friend Rita. It was as if they didn’t think that Lucy was responsible for what happened to her. But that’s why I’m here, I guess. That’s why I’m teaching life skills. To teach them to take ownership of their actions and to fully understand both the risks and the necessary behavioral changes.

I also provide an opportunity for them to ask questions at the end. Now when English isn’t your native tongue and when you’re dealing with difficult subjects such as sex, HIV/AIDS, drug use, etc, it can be difficult to just put up your hand and ask a question in front of all your peers. So I stole this idea from other PCVs who teach life skill. They put a box in front of the class. I call mine the Anonymous Box. The students are free to write down any question they have about what we are talking about or any other topic and to put it in the box. They don’t have to put their name on it, but if they don’t want me to ask the question out loud but to speak with them in private then they should put their name on the paper. Let me give you a sampling of the questions I received. And this was just the first week!

What advice do you give to those who have already been infected by AIDS?

My mother died in 2002 and my father is very poor, even the school fees he gives me he sweats for. I am meeting some problems with my life, what should I do?

If I play sex (have sex) with a boy the first time can I lose my virginity and can I get AIDS?

What are the signs of HIV/AIDS?

I feel pain when I urinate. How can I solve it?

I do not want to play sex (have sex) but my girlfriend wants me to. I want you to advise me on this because I am worried.

I have a married woman nearby our home. She tries to convince me to have sex with her. How can I avoid her?

What if somebody kissed you with AIDS? Can you get AIDS?

I am addicted to porn. How can I overcome this?

Sir, I hear people talking about using condoms but most of us don’t know how to use them. I request you to explain to us how to use them.

I have a boyfriend and I don’t want to have sex with him but I love him and he loves me. What can I do?

I have a girlfriend who loves me so much and I also love her. We tested (negative) for AIDS and every time we have sex we use a condom. Is there any problem we are likely to meet?

How can I live freely with my enemies who have proved to me that they hate me but we have to live together, eat together and study at school together?

And lastly, and this is to be expected: I like whites very much. I would like to have a pen friend from America.

Evidence

I was biking past the football pitch and saw some kids throwing a Frisbee my dad had sent that said “Davis Towing” on it. I guess I’m just leaving my footprint here one way or another…

The Community Hall

The hall is going up. It’s now up to the top of the windows. The budget has increased recently because of the decision to add 6 office rooms to the hall. This will enable Compassion to shift entirely there when the structure is complete. It added an extra $5,000 to the cost, but after some consideration and talking to others I felt it was a necessary move to make. It’s just awesome to stand in the center of the building and to see it going up around me. So many people have already helped so much in the construction process, I’m truly overwhelmed.

12 Days of Christmas

As promised, I’ll be sharing over the next several weeks what you can do to save money for the Christmas season by living like a Ugandan.

#12. Cut the power to your house 3-4 days a week. Just trip the circuit breaker or remove the fuse. Light some candles, read some books, go to bed earlier. You’ll be saving 50% on your electricity bill. You’ll enjoy the serenity and peace of the TV not being on. Listen to the radio to get your news for the day. It’s funky at first but after a while you come to appreciate it and you soon discover that there is life without power.