The Final Chapter

I only have about 15 minutes before the internet cafe closes, so (thank your lucky stars) this will be another short post.

As I finished my Pabo adventures this afternoon, I look forward to another four days of re-aquainting with the amazing people who have made the journey with me. All 23 of the IC teacher exchange teachers will be heading out for Murchison Falls tomorrow afternoon. We will safari on Sunday before heading to Kampala. On Monday, we will travel to Jinja where we will brave the wild Nile river (and the multitude of parasites that live within). On Tuesday, the group will travel back to Kampala to prepare for our final departure. A quick trip to the equator on Wednesday morning will finalize my glorious (though too short) stay in the wonderful country of Uganda. I really look forward to spending some time with the people that started this journey with me, and sharing all of our various stories from spending time apart at our various school sites.

Pabo was fantastic again this week. Things with Oola Charles went swimmingly, Trisha and Danielle kept my ego in check, and I spent some good time out of school with a few wonderful teachers. Today at lunch the teachers delivered a few speeches to wish us safe journeys, we shook many hands, had a few sodas, and did a lot of hugging. It is amazing how close you can become with some people in only a few short weeks. It was painful to say goodbye to many of my new friends. By the end of the four weeks, real relationships have developed, and there are many people I intend to keep in touch with. Maybe (sorry mom and dad) I will even get to see some of them again! When the treasurer of the PTA offered to pay me a salary, and a few teachers offered me a corner of their rooms, I must say I was tempted to stay. The routines, customs, and experiences in Pabo (and Uganda) have definately grown on me. But...I am also looking forward to getting home and sharing all my experiences with you, my friends.

I look forward to catching up with you soon. Apwoyo! (And to all of my Ugandan friends, Dei Dong Maber--your memories will keep me smiling.)


Yours,
Owat Matthew Michelin

(I'll tell you about the new name when I get back--Peace!)

My last post for a while (Maybe)

Time is very limited this week with me being out in Pabo, so I will be posting only briefly this weekend. The chances of me posting again are getting small, so I may not be able to fill you in on everything until I get home.

I am back in Gulu for the weekend. Tomorrow morning though, I will be heading out to Masindi Rhino Breeding Grounds to go see the great beasts in their real life habitat. I won't return until Sunday afternoon at which time I will have to probably hop into a matatu and head back out to Pabo. Next weekend, we will be leaving for our slow trip back to Kampala with stops in Jinja for rafting on the Nile (Nick, I'll pick up your parasites here) and Murchison Falls National park for a 1/2 day safari. I do not know what the internet access situation will be.

This past week in Pabo has been fantastic on all fronts. I spent some serious time reflecting on Monday, gained some new perspective, and changed my approach at the school. Charles and I have made tremendous progress this week. My frustrations and worries have been assuaged, and I know that (however small), I have had an impact on his teaching practices and the school. I also decided to focus less on the teaching aspect of the exchange this week and spend more time interacting with the students and community. Kids in Pabo now love frisbee, many were very sad when they discovered that I was not staying for the weekend (there will be a celebration at the school), I am working with a large group of students on an African essay competition, I have visited with a few teachers and have taken dinner at on of their homes, and I have been interacting with people from the community. One of the people I have talked with several times is the treasurer of the Pabo S.S. PTA. He has passed along several gracious and very heart warming comments that he has received about me from students and parents in the community. Small successes are becoming the food that sustains me.

I will leave you with a few thoughts from my experience so far:

Red clay is impossible to get out of your clothes.

Hospitality really is lacking in the United States, and we should really reach out to each other much more.

Never give your phone number to a drunk Ugandan woman.

Friends make it all worthwhile.

And most importantly, warm beer can be quite delicious sitting under a Eucalyptus tree out of the hot African sun or sitting on a porch in the cool african evening.

Best wishes to all in the states! Let the adventure continue!

Best,
Matt

Installment #15--TGIF

Friday was all right. School was only in session through break at 11:30, but Charles and I had two classes. The first class was the same as before, but during the second class, Charles actually did incorporate one of the strategies (for five minutes) that we had been talking about. Finally, a little sign of exchange happening! After yesterday, it was enough for me to feel slightly better. After break, teachers hung out for a while. The school was supposed to have the handing over celebration (where class prefects step down and pass their position on to the newly elected prefects), but like everything in Uganda, it did not start on time. While we waited, we were able to play a few games of Scrabble. The teachers at Pabo play Scrabble fiercely—many know the Scrabble dictionary and pull out words that I have never heard of before. Lunch was served a little after 1:30, and by 3:00, the handover ceremony still had not started. The IC truck swung by the school though, so we hopped on our bikes, headed back to the White House, packed, and scooted off to Gulu. When we got to the IC house, there was some homemade pizza waiting for us, and at 7:00 we had another group discussion on an article about cultural education in Africa. When the group discussion was over, a large group of us (John, Aaron, Amy, Jon, Ben, Josh, Allison, and a few other people) headed out to KSP for a few beers. John, Josh, Aaron, Ben and myself headed out to Da Pub and had a few more beers, and then came back to the IC house where we played cards for a little while longer before finally hitting the sack.

On Saturday morning, we had a discussion about Paulo Friere’s book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed. It is a book that talks about revolution and how it must happen so that the oppressors and the oppressed can come to some cultural praxis of change. Very intense stuff. After the book talk, I headed into town and went to the market. I purchased some fabrics and am having a few items of clothing made. The market is full of tailors who will make just about anything you ask them to, all for 5000 ugsh (about $3) and the price of the fabric. I also hopped over to the fruit section of the market and picked up a few things for lunch, and our teacher party Sunday afternoon. In the early afternoon Saturday, we headed out to Fort Patiko. Patiko is an old Arab slave trading fort that was liberated by Sir Samuel Baker in the late 1800’s. We had a guide who shared much history with us, showed us the hundreds of gouges in the rock floor where axes had stuck after cutting cleanly through the necks of slaves who were sick, weak, or would otherwise not bring money at market, and shared with us some details about life at the fort. It was a very interesting tour. After the tour, most of the group headed out on a hike to the top of a hill (very very large hill with steep rock walls) to catch a view of the surroundings. The hike was tedious, but the view was worth it. Standing on the top of the hill, one can see for hundreds of miles. We were able to see Pabo camp, Gulu, and even see the mountains/hills that are the border to Sudan. Had the hills not been there, we would have seen Sudan. We came back down after the hike to a barbecue of vegetables, chicken (which I hear was delicious), and chapatti. Everything was washed down by a few nice warm beers (I even had a Guiness). After enjoying our relaxing barbecue, it was back to the IC house. Unfortunately, when we got there, the power was out (another common occurance in Uganda). So, making lemonade out of lemons, it was back to Da Pub (they have a generator) for a few cold Nile Specials and some good conversation with Kyle, Sarah, Jen, Jolene, Allison, David A., John M, Josh, and one really drunk Ugandan man.

Best,
Matt

Installment #14--Not My Day

Thursday morning Charles and I sat down to plan a lesson together. After talking through his normal lesson for a reading, I showed Charles a list of all of the different strategies that I had used in the lessons I taught, and asked what he thought might work or if we could change any of the strategies to better fit. We went back and forth for a little while, and made no progress. I didn’t want to tell Charles to change how he teaches-that is not my place-but it is very frustrating being in an exchange with a teacher and seeing a lack of commitment to exchanging ideas. The conversation got a little tense because I expressed my frustrations with Charles. I asked him about his goals for the program, shared mine, and tried to be diplomatic, but in the end, I don’t know if there was any resolution. Charles ultimately asked me to teach the lesson anyway, and he said that he would watch and try to teach the next lesson in the same way. I said fine, but the feeling that I am here simply to ease the workload of another teacher is not. I taught the first class, we had lunch, and I asked Charles if he would be willing to try using one of the simple strategies that I had used earlier. He agreed, but wound up teaching the same way he had before. Also, rain delayed our lesson by about an hour. When it rains hard in Uganda, the raindrops hitting the corrugated metal roof cause a noise so loud that none of the teachers teach during the rain. The rain happened during our class, and I think that we probably would not have had class, but because Charles knew I was frustrated (and because I asked), he talked with the physics teacher (the class after ours), and he let us take his class period—a little sign of hope at the end of the day.

This hope didn’t last long though. When we returned home, Trisha, Danielle, and I all found pools of water in our room from the rain earlier in the day. Unfortunately, the pool of water in my room was very small because my clothes had soaked up most of the mud and water. I laid my clothes on my mosquito net to try to dry them out, but many were stained and will have to be cleaned. Hopefully harriet will be able to take care of them. Another thing that was bothering me is that I haven’t shaved in almost two weeks, and it is really starting to itch. Unfortunately, there are no mirrors in Pabo, so in order to see my face, I grabbed my camera. To add to my day, the lens motor on my camera has somehow broken, and my camera no longer works. Big bummer. I an attempt to salvage the day, I put a pot of water on the stove to take a warm bath, and in the process, got black soot all over a clean pair of pants. At least there is no disco on Thursday nights.

Installment #13--Heating up

Tuesday was pretty typical. I was a bit tired from the disco and lack of sleep, and there were a lot of people roaming the streets again in the morning (market day runs until about midday on Tuesday). Our bike ride to school was pretty typical, the groups of little children chasing and yelling “munu!”, the primary kids stopping and staring, and the secondary kids saying “good morning sir.” School was average. I am starting to get a little frustrated that nothing is really happening in the way of progress. I teach some classes and Charles observes, and he teaches some classes and I observe, and occasionally we team teach together. I am struggling to get any reflection out of Charles on the lessons about what is working well or not well, he isn’t writing lesson plans so we cannot discuss how to adapt the lesson to make it more students centered (much teaching in Uganda, and almost all of Charles practice, is chalk and talk with some student question and answer). I have tried several strategies to encourage some reflection (and thereby facilitate some change), but have been unsuccessful so far. The rest of the day ran as usual, and there was no disco music.

Wednesday, my frustrations really began to form. I observed three classes and taught one today. The biggest frustration that I have is that, because I am struggling to reflect with my partner teacher, no real change is occurring in the classroom. I keep trying to remind myself that we are only a week and a half into the exchange, and that there is still time for major things to happen. The most frustrating part though, is that I can’t totally shed the fear that my presence here will go for naught. The possibility of me leaving, and everything being the same as before I came, is a scary thought. There was a small breakthrough in the afternoon though. Charles was teaching our fourth class of the day, and had not prepared a lesson. I think that he intended to plan during lunch, but was instead called into a budget meeting. When he was done, he barely had time to grab a plate of food, eat, and head out to class. The class went all right, but Charles was obviously frazzled (the fact that I was watching probably made it bad). After the class though, he did mention that he wanted to talk about lessons for the rest of the week. We didn’t teach until 11:30 on Thursday, so I suggested we plan a lesson together in the morning. Charles happily agreed, and I went home from school feeling slightly better. After dinner, I met Balu (another teacher at school) and Charles on the front porch, and we talked for some time. At a little after 9:00, I moved back into the compound and tried to get to sleep. Unfortunately, Wednesday night is Ladies night at the same disco (the one right behind our rooms) that hosted the festivities on market day. Alas, it would be another long night.

Installment #12--Disco Fever

Monday was a pretty normal school day. Charles and I teach the first and the last period of the day, so we had a lot of down time in the center of the day to plan (though it is a little hard to get him to plan sometimes), and I did spend time journaling. At the end of the day, people headed out of school pretty quickly. The first Monday of every month is something called Auction (Market) day in Pabo. People come from all around to Pabo to set up shop alongside the road and sell fabrics, shoes, pots and pans, and any other item you can imagine. When we rode our bikes back into the camp, the roads were jammed with a slew of people. There may have been several thousand people all moving through a stretch of street maybe 300 meters long. People were strolling, trying on clothes, weaving on their bikes, and dodging the occasional large freight truck from Sudan on the way to Kampala. We put our bikes away and took a walk through the mass of people. After our walk, it was time for dinner. After dinner, I sat out front again for a little while, met a few people (including the treasurer of the Pabo S.S. PTA), strolled back into the courtyard, talked with Danielle and Trisha for a while, and laid down to bed. Just as I laid my head on the bed to knock off for the evening, the disco started up. One of the exciting parts of market day is that everyone likes to party well into the night. The even better part is that the party happens right behind our hotel. Right behind. And the best part yet, is that the party goes until 6:30 in the morning-right when my alarm reminds me that I am supposed to be getting up even though I haven’t really gone to sleep yet.

Installment #11--Sunday Showers

Not having any water at the IC house on Saturday can make a person go a little crazy after playing six or seven games of volleyball under the African sun. Not having water on Sunday either is just plain torture. I spent most of the morning Sunday writing, went into town at about 11:30 to take some lunch with a few of the other teachers, ran to the internet café and was back to the IC house by about 2:00. Mary, from Kampala, was scheduled to come by the house at 2:00. Mary makes beads out of old magazines and newspapers and creates necklaces and bracelets out of them. They are similar to the “beads for life” bracelets and necklaces, but are a microfinance project that Mary runs. In perfect Ugandan punctuality, Mary showed up at about 2:45. We took our time perusing her wares, and many people bought many necklaces. At about 3:30, as we were finishing our perusing, the skies opened up! Not having had a shower for a little over a week, and not having bathed for two days (after mucho sweaty volleyball), I ran back into the house, grabbed a towel and some soap, and ran back outside. Stripped to my skivvies, I nestled in under a corner of the roof that funnels water in a sizeable stream providing a very cold, but very refreshing shower. If you look around enough, there are a few pictures of me out there.

After my very refreshing shower, the IC car was by in short order to pick us up. We made our trip out to Pabo in a Matatu. The suspension on a matatu is something to be witnessed, as are the roads. The number of potholes, bumps, and ruts in the road to Sudan, and the severity of the bumps are amplified tremendously in a matatu, and your rear end feels every one. The trip in a matatu takes about an hour and a half, and Trisha, Danielle, and I were all happy that it was over. When we got back to the White House, Charles was waiting outside on the porch. I went in, unpacked, and went outside to meet Charles. We talked for a bit, I went in and had dinner, and then the girls and I talked a bit more in the evening.

Installment #10--It's Raining! (and we have to drive to Gulu in it!)

The next morning, I awoke to thunder, lightening, and pouring rain. If I were thinking, I would have jumped outside and taken a shower, but I didn’t. It took a while for the rain to stop, and it delayed our morning routine, so we got to school a little bit later (the bike ride took a bit longer too). I got to school (after a protein bar and some oatmeal—yeah variety!), and Charles asked me how pool was. I guess word gets around quickly in Pabo. In Gulu, it is not too unusual for for there to be a munu or two walking around town as there are so many NGO’s, but in Pabo, there are very few. Today I introduced a reading with one class of S2, and Charles finished “being phrases” with the other group. Class went all right. There was not major excitement, except lunch. Today was meat day at school, so I thought that I would be able to say no thanks and have a protein bar (or two) instead. Unfortnately, the people at Pabo already know I am a vegetarian, so they also brought a bowl of beans just for me (teachers get meat, but the students still get beans) so that I could eat lunch at school. Oh well. I am getting used to it.

Trisha and Danielle left early on Thursday because Trisha was feeling sick, but I stayd through the end of class. The IC car came by the school a little before 3:30 to pick us up so that we could go back to Gulu for the teaching and learning conference. The rain had started up again before we made it home, so the twenty mile drive on the fantastic roads took a little over an hour and a half. We got back to the house in time for dinner—Doreen’s food is great—and it is not Posho and Beans. We ate dinner, and John, Jon, Josh, and I played hearts and had some fantastic beers. After two games, several beers, and some pretty poor (I still laughed) Magee jokes, people started heading to bed. I went outside and talked with Geoffrey, the IC guard at night, until about 2:00 in the morning. He was a child soldier for 10 years and has some stories to share. We mostly talked about the current situation though, and about the government and the rebels and who was right and wrong. Geoffrey also talked a bit about his family. He has a wife and three kids, and struggles to make the money to send his kids to school. IC pays him a very good salary by Gulu standards, but it still is not enough. After talking with Geoffrey for a while, I went to bed.

On Friday, much of the day was spent at the teaching and learning conference in Gulu. All of the U.S. teachers met with their Acholi counterparts to discuss challenges of education in Uganda, participatory learning strategies, meaningful assessment, and other educational ideas. We made it home a little after 5:00 and had a discussion group about one of the education/colonialism/Africa assigned readings, and then had another fantastic Doreen dinner. After dinner, we talked for a little while, and then Josh, Jen, David, John and I went to a place in Gulu called Da Pub to celebrate the fourth of July. We had several Nile Specials, very good, and even did a little bit of dancing. At one point I was actually doing the electric slide to Britney Spears.

Saturday was a nice break as well. We called it our American Day. We had the learning conference until about noon, had lunch as a group, and then went back to the IC house to play several intense games of volleyball, eat a fantastic Mexican feast prepared by Doreen, and play some more volleyball. I ended up going to bed (very content) at about 9:30.

Best,
Matt

Instaqllment #9--Falling into a routine

Wednesday was my long day at school. Having gotten my bike back Tuesday night, I tried the ride in again this morning. I woke up at about 6:30 so that I could get ready and be out the door with plenty of time to get to school even if the bike broke again today. I ate another protein bar, passed on the bread as it was already moldy, took three trips to the pit latrine, and left for school. The ride took a little longer than 15 minutes, and I got to school fairly early. I reviewed the lesson plan for a while, and then it was off to class. Charles taught the first period, I taught the second and third period, and then Charles taught the final period of the day (periods are actually doubles—two 40 minute classes back-to-back). The first class that I taught went all right. There were several times when I do not think that I communicated quite clearly enough with the students, but they seemed to hang in there. The second class went much better except for the fact that it finally rained (Uganda has been in a three week dry spell—usually it comes sometime in July, but it was early this year—so everyone has been waiting for the rain). When it is raining very hard on a corrugated metal roof, it becomes very hard to speak and be heard. Luckily the rain only lasted for fifteen minutes or so, so I simply wrote the questions I would have asked or statements I would have made on the board. When students had an answer, I ran to them so they could tell me in my ear. The students got a kick out of it, and the lesson went well.

After having Posho and beans again for lunch, we were hoping that Harriet had cooked something different for dinner. She did—Cassava (like a potato—kind of, Boo—a green similar to but very different than spinach, and… BEANS!). A lack of showers and a diet that is heavily supplemented with beans (usually multiple times a day) leads to some interesting conversations about new and unique odors.

After dinner, Christine met us again and wanted to show us some more of the camp. Walter had stopped by, but wasn’t going to be able to come back that evening to show us around, so we went with Christine. We first went through the market that is behind the White House. Most of the vendors had already started packing up for the evening since it was a little late, and many had already left for the evening. We walked past tables with small red, yellow, and orange tomatoes and other various roots and beans. There were tables covered in little dried fish and flies, and others with smoked and raw tilapia (also covered in flies). While we were in the market, Robert—the manager of the White House—met up with us. After the market, we headed over to the police station to meet the Chief Criminal Investigations Deputy (CCID) for the camp. We said hello and introduced ourselves (I had actually met him the night before at the White House) got a quick tour of the office (a 10x20 foot room with a table a few chairs, and a few crates) and headed back for the evening. On the way, Robert asked if I wanted to play pool. I said sure, so we went to the establishment down from our hotel. We sat around for a while and talked with people, and eventually it was my turn to play. I joked a bit, played pretty poorly, and lost. As I was playing though, I noticed that people were slowly funneling into the place and that people had lined up outside the perimeter of the room we were in, and were staring in the windows. I probably had a crowd of one hundred people watching me.

Installment #8--Into the Camps

It wasn’t long after I got back to the White House that Walter showed up again. This time he wanted to take us around the camp and point out a few things that we should know. Christine, an Acholi woman living at the White House and doing service in the camps, wanted to come along as well. We walked down the Sudan road a bit before heading into the camp.

The signs of poverty in the camp are abundant. People (especially kids) wear clothes that are covered in filth, often torn, and quite often the younger kids do not have any clothes as well. It appears that there is a good deal of suffering as well. People suffer from various disfigurements, eye diseases, and other visible wounds. The huts are packed very tightly together, are cylindrical in shape, have thatched roofs (which often catch fire sparking a chain reaction of huts burning down because of their proximity to each other), and often house four, five, or even more people.

We weren’t in the huts too long before walking back out of them and towards the big Catholic mission in Pabo. A ways across from the mission is a soccer field. There was a crowd of several hundred people around the field gathered to watch the soccer match that was happening at the time. We didn’t go over to the match, and instead, we kept on walking. Pretty soon after the soccer match, we walked past several rows of old school buildings, mostly abandoned as the displaced schools they housed have moved back to the villages. There was one primary school that still ran though, and the children who attended the school were out in the courtyard practicing their dances for an upcoming competition. We sat and watched for a little while as the drums pounded, the hips gyrated, the necks popped, and the axes swung in the air (yes, axes…in the hands of possibly 100 primary school students). We kept moving though, and eventually got to the hospital. Walter thought that we should know where to go should we need any medical attention in the camp (don’t worry mom, I don’t plan on visiting again). The hospital had a large gate that opened to a courtyard with a mango tree and a plaque commemorating the building of the hospital. There were some few goats, chicken, and even a flock of turkeys that roamed in and out of the compound as well as several groups of people and individuals sitting on wooden mats in the courtyard. I would guess that the visitors in the courtyard were either awaiting treatment for an ill relative, or were ill themselves and were waiting to see a doctor.

We walked through the courtyard, around several small buildings that were built out of the same red clay bricks and had windows open to the outside as well as doors on some of the buildings. We saw a child receiving a shot in one of the rooms, and walked past another room that housed the maternity ward where several expectant mothers lay on white cots trying to pass their time. At the back of the compound were two larger buildings that appeared to have been built recently. These buildings housed the nursing staff and the doctors. We knocked on the door of one and met one of the nurses at the hospital. The doctor was unfortunately not in. The nurse invited us into the compound. The first room was pretty small, but had several chairs set up with a television and a DVD player set up on a table. On the DVD player, a Celine Dion video (it must have been a single—“I’m your lady” (?-I don’t really know the title of the song, but she sang that phrase over and over)) was playing over and over again. I am still amazed that most of the music that people listen to here is hip-hop music that is fairly current in the states. We stayed for a few minutes, talked, and then left for home as Harriet most likely was going to be done with dinner soon.

When we were walking back, we didn’t go to the Sudan Road right away, instead, we walked deeper into the camp and took a back way home. We saw all of the same images I mentioned before, caught a lot of stares, greeted a lot of people, and eventually wound up back out at the road right next to the White House. One image that will stick in my mind for quite some time though, was a little boy who came walking past us as we were strolling through a mini-market of beans and rice set up along the camp pathways. The boy was probably 12 or 13 and was completely naked. His eyes were both milky white, and from the way he walked, you could tell that he was blind. His elbows and shoulders and knees and hips were all bent at crooked and jagged angles so that he had to move sideways. He also may not have known how to speak as the only sound he made was a whine over and over again. I didn’t know how to react, so I kept on walking. In Uganda, when someone suffers from some form of mental disability, the common response is to just ignore the “mad” person. Eating dinner once we were back at the White House, it was hard not to think about how blessed we were when just outside our door, so many people are suffering.

Installment #7--Pabo S.S.--A Little Slice of Heaven (It is supposed to be hot there right???)

We dropped off our bags, and I changed into a long-sleeved shirt, long pants, and shoes. It is definitely going to take some adjusting to get used to the proper attire when the temperature gets into the high 80’s and the sun is beating down hard. Amy took us back over to the school, we met the headmaster, signed some documents (I hope I didn’t commit to a three year contract), and Amy took off. Trisha, Danielle, and I were finally all on our own in the middle of an internally displaced camp housing 60,000 displaced persons with no running water or electricity. Otim Walter Knox—the headmaster—and Odong Quintine—the deputy (2nd in charge)—took us around to show us the facilities. Schools in Uganda are typically built in classroom blocks with 2-3 classrooms next to each other in one long building. At Pabo, some of the classrooms are mud brick and mortar with corrugated metal ceilings, and others are a little bit newer and built out of concrete. The newer buildings were all built by NGO’s operating in Uganda. The older classrooms do not have floors, so the students have to sweep the rooms out and pour water every morning to try to keep the dust down. The rooms have several windows that stay open so that hopefully you can catch a breeze. Students do not have any textbooks, have one pen that they keep track of like gold, and use small notebooks to take any notes they need in the books.

After our tour, we went to the teacher’s lounge, met many of the teachers at the school, and sat down with our teachers. Charles taught the last period of the day, so I observed his last class. At Pabo, we actually have fewer students than many schools in Africa, but our classrooms are smaller as well. We have about 60 children in each of our classes. The whole classroom procedure will take a little getting used to, but I was really excited about the prospect of starting soon.

After classes, the three munu’s at Pabo called bodas and headed back to the hotel. We unpacked and got situated, and by the time we were finished, Walter Quintine, and a few other teachers had shown up to make sure that we were settling in all right. We had a soda with them, learned a little bit about the camp, and then our dinner was ready. Harriet, our personal cook and launderer had made chapatti (like thick flour tortillas), rice and beans for dinner. (After posho and beans for lunch, it was a little redundant, but we were tired and didn’t mention it). After dinner, it got dark very quickly, so Danielle, Trisha, and I talked for a while and headed to bed.

Tuesday ran pretty much as expected. We woke up early, bathed with our Jerry cans, and headed off to school. Breakfast consisted of a protein bar, two pieces of bread, and some peanut butter that I poured onto the bread. Trisha, Danielle, and I took off on our bikes for the school and were greeted by many little children yelling “munu byeeee!” as well as many adults laughing and smiling. We greeted as many as we could while we rode. Just outside of the IDP, I swerved to miss a bus who was wildly weaving from one shoulder to the next on the road (a common practice—many people take Dramamine before riding in a car) to avoid potholes and find the least bumpy route. When I swerved, the bike tire didn’t. I blew out a tire before ever making the trip to school once. I hopped off my bike and Danielle and Trisha kept going. If I would have walked the rest of the way, I probably would have been a half hour or more late to school, so I walked back to the camp, dropped my bike off at a small bike repair stand (one of the few trades, along with tailor, that people in Uganda are frequently taught), and found a boda to take me to school.

When I got to school, I talked with Charles a little bit about how he wanted to run the experience, and we looked at the plans for the rest of the week. We decided that today I would observe the classes still, and then tomorrow, I would be able to step in and introduce the lessons on pronouns to the S1 students. I observed two more classes during the day, and was able to write up a lesson plan for the class tomorrow. Charles and I shared the information, found some readings for later in the week, dropped them off with the typist, and were done for the day. (Oh yeah, lunch was beans and posho again—I believe that people eat this for lunch every day here—we’ll see). After school I walked back to the White House. It took a little over 45 minutes but was not that bad of a walk. As I moved further and further along the road, I was joined by more and more students who had all sorts of questions for me. The students asked about America, asked about superheroes and Jean Claude VanDamme. I asked them about school, and the camps, and their lives. Most of the students were pretty nice, and seemed generally interested and curious about me. In Gulu, there are so many NGO’s that it is not uncommon to see a white person around town, but in Pabo, there are so few that everyone notices you.

Installment #6--The White House...In Uganda?

Monday morning was a jumble of mixed feelings. I was very excited that we would be heading out to Pabo, but I was also quite nervous. Amidst the scurrying around, journal writing, and final preparations for the trip, one of the other volunteers came to retrieve me and let me know that Charles (my cooperating teacher) was at the front gate wondering if he could catch a ride with us out to the camp. He had been at the hospital with his cousin who had just had a baby, so he missed the bus on Sunday night. We talked to Amy, and it was fine that he joined us. IC sent two trucks in the morning for the trips to Atanga and Pabo, and after packing both and realizing that the big group should probably have taken the bigger car and the small group should have probably taken the smaller car (I use car lightly—I really mean Land Cruiser safari style, and double cab Toyota Tundra), we switched all of the gear around and started our trips. The road to Pabo is actually only a very small segment of a much larger road. Around here, we know the road as “The Road to Sudan,” but in reality, the road runs from Egypt all the way south to South Africa. I have to say that a trip that far would definitely result in bruised tailbones, aggravated hemorrhoids, and discombobulated internal organs. There are so many potholes, bumps, and eroded patches along the road that cars can only move at a crawl for long stretches and are rarely able to accelerate for any period of time. We arrived at the school, dropped Charles off, and headed to the White House.

The White House has a small store front that sells the typical soda, beer, bags of vodka and gin, and bottles of water. It sits on the edge of the actual IDP camp (the school is about 2km outside of the IDP camp). Behind the White House is a small courtyard with rows of rooms lining either side. The rooms are very simple, with a bed accompanied (after some asking) by a large mosquito net. There is a sink, a bed, and a shower head off in the corner, but no running water (and a sign, drawn in big sharpie marker across the tile that reads “Do Not Use!”—I think that they are planning on eventually having plumbing one day, but certainly don’t yet). We receive a jerry can of water as needed, and have a small green wash basin to take a bath with in the mornings (or evenings—if you leave the can out in the sun, it gets nice and lukewarm.

Installment #5--Children Children Everywhere

Saint Jude’s was fun an experience. It is a children’s home that fosters children whose parents are unable to care for them. Some of the children have lost their parents to the war or to Aids, and many have parents who are unable to financially support their children, but hope to one day come and collect them. We went to play with the children, and they presented a couple of song and dance numbers for us. We threw footballs, Frisbees, the some kids played football, some had races, and many of the small children just wanted to be held. Many of the small children who were held fell right to sleep in the arms of the volunteers as soon as they were picked up. After a few workshops and classes in the morning, and then St. Jude’s, we decided that it was time to unwind a little bit. We went over to the Kope Café and had a movie night. Amy went out and bought a couple of crates of beer, made some popcorn, and bought a bunch of g-nuts (just like peanuts in the states). The Kope Café (Jamie, the Invisible Children’s Intern Coordinator and House Manager started the Café to benefit HEALS-an Acholi community and dance center-so he has a bit of pull) has a projector and a big white patch on its wall, and one of the volunteers supplied the computer and the movie (Charlie Wilson’s War—pretty good). After the movie, it was back to IC house to pack and get ready for the big adventure out in Pabo!