Installment #3--Uganda Uganda (or look out Gulu, here I come!)

Uganda schools work in a slightly different way than in the states. As mentioned before, students go through seven years of primary education (P1-P7). At the end of P7, they sit for their national examination. If they pass, they are allowed to go on to secondary school. Here, there are six levels of education (S1-S6). S1-S4 are considered “O” level, or ordinary, and S5 and S6 are “A” level, or advanced. Students sit in S1-S4, and then have to take their next national exam. This exam includes everything they have studied in secondary school (including foods class) and is apparently pretty intense. If they are able to pass the test (many do not), then they can go on to S5 and S6 where students will receive a specialized education (to become a doctor, lawyer, teacher, engineer…) based upon their test scores. The curriculum that students learn is all determined by the Minister of Education for Uganda, and all students, no matter where they attend school, receive the same education.

By dinner time of our first day in Kampala, I was beat. Not only had my body not caught up with the eight hour time change, twenty plus hours of flying, and two (or three?—I was too confused to know for sure) sleepless nights, but we had also had a full day of classes and tours. Many people were in the same boat as I was, but we pushed through it to go to dinner at Sam’s. About twenty of us (any time there are twenty white people (muzungu) together in the same place it causes quite a spectacle) sat around a large table, shared various fantastic Indian dishes, had a few beers, and desperately tried to keep our eyelids open, our heads from hitting the table too hard when we had the nods, and the drool from making too large a puddle in front of us. Dinner was great, and of course, when we returned to the hostel that evening immediately following dinner, everyone caught his or her second wind. Damn. Another sleepless night.

Wednesday (the next day silly) held another experience and more travel. We started the morning by traveling to the Bavubuka Foundation’s house in Kampala (please check it out here www.bavubuka.com). In Luganda, Bavubuka means “the youth.” Silas, a famous Ugandan rapper decided that student needed a place to learn skills and participate in the arts so that they can help to foster respect for each other, desire (and affect) positive change in their world, and build community that looks toward growth. Students engage in art projects, singing, dancing, weaving, and many other activities at the house that is run by an all volunteer staff that subsists on donations. The organization is growing and, though they currently only have a house in Kampala, they have volunteers in many of Uganda’s larger cities. While we were there, we shared a few activities with the house volunteers so that they would be able to do them with their students.

After returning to the hostel and packing up, it was time to hit the road for Gulu. Yup, here it is, another woot woot! The trip to Gulu was made in a minibus that just barely contained the whole group (23 volunteers and 2 drivers). There are two seats along one side of the bus and one seat along the other side. When extra seats are needed (and they were), jump seats folded down to fill the aisle so that there were four seats across. I, of course, wound up in a jump seat (the leg room is honestly a big plus here). Unfortunately, the jump seats have very low backs, so that when I was actually (finally) ready to sleep, I had nowhere to put my head. It is almost impossible to prop your head up on your hands to sleep on a bumpy bus ride, so I wound up not getting any sleep yet again (except for the few minutes that I passed out on the shoulder of the guy next to me, drooled on the back of the person in front of me, and snored on the shoulder of the person to my left). The bus ride itself took a little over six hours, was fast, was slow, was highly erratic with the bus swerving from one shoulder to the other trying to avoid any multiple of the millions of large potholes along the route, and ultimately, a bit tedious. But finally, we arrived in Gulu. We had a fantastic meal prepared by a wonderfully sweet woman, Doreen, who is the chef at the Invisible Children’s House.