Home Sweet Home!

Hi Friends, it’s me! 

I’ve switched over to g-mail so that I could ‘bcc’ people and hopefully avoid everyone getting two pages worth of other peoples e-mail addresses! I still have my hotmail account, but will send these group e-mails from resilientuganda@gmail.com

Taking the long way home from Uganda has proven to be quite exhausting, beautiful and overwhelming at times! It has been filled with surprises from reclining lounge chairs for the five hour layover in the Addis Ababa airport to the man in the chair next to me lighting up a cigarette! Also a surprise visit to the ER in Malaysia which turned out to be ring worm on my face, I could think of worse souvenirs to bring home! Another surprise trip to the East side of the Malaysian peninsula and a few lazy days floating in the warm waters of the Pacific Ocean, getting a lobster-red sunburn and innumerable delectable meals with the Stanley’s. I found myself experiencing the shock of 90 degree weather, plus humidity, you know when you walk out of the house and instantly the skin prickles as the intense heat sweeps over your body and a shiver runs down your spine.

Roaming the airport in Hong Kong for fourteen hours in the middle of the night, a nice surprise is when I finally see three chairs next to each other that no one has already sprawled out on. A not-so-nice surprise is when I lay down on them, and then I jump up as I realize the chairs are wet! At 3:30 a.m. when I’m strolling the quiet airport terminal to eat more chocolate and use the toilet I find three seats in a row...and they are empty and dry! I sleep like a log during the twilight hours. The flight leaving Hong Kong is delayed by rain, so we sit on board, buckled and ready for take-off for over three hours until the rain relents and we can finally begin the thirteen hour flight. We arrived in San Francisco just moments after my connecting flight to Denver left. So, nearly two full days later when I finally step outside, I step into a snowstorm, wind whirling around us through the parking garage at DIA, then directly onto I-70 where a blizzard is raging and it's a white-out as my Dear friend, Jennifer and I crawl along the interstate and finally onto the smaller, winding road that leads to Winter Park. The peeling skin from sunburn soon turns into a dry and scaly coating that sheds like a snake everywhere I go. The dry mountain air cracks my skin as I find myself whizzing down the mountain and enjoying the phenomenal views. Winter Park has so many runs it's ridiculous, views to die for and with a buddy pass skiing is incredibly affordable!!

It turns out leaving Uganda was physically more difficult than I thought it would be as well! There were wonderful dinners and farewells, complete with going away gifts for myself and even for my parents; it was so sweet and thoughtful. My last night in Kisoro was spent with friends at Promise’s house. I brought the wall calendar from Amazing Grace to leave with them, since I didn’t want to roll it up and carry it home and since a student, Shiba, lives there. I thought they would enjoy hanging the big poster-sized calendar with photos of the Directors, the students and some of the teachers; they enjoyed it more than I could have imagined. I laid it on the table in front of them and for over an hour the discussion was on the photos of the two Directors, which one of them looks more serious, which one looks friendlier, the school itself and who knows what else, it completely captivated them. I had no idea it would be such a source of entertainment. Along with the “first aid kit” that I gave Promise, he had to try on the face mask and a pair of latex gloves, then he wanted to sleep in them because they were so warm!

The next day when Mark and I finally screeched into the Kigali airport just one hour before the flight, I rushed through the security scanner, reached back to hand him my last few Rwandan francs and dashed to the check-in counter. I sensed something wasn’t quite right as soon as the woman told me, “Just wait one minute” as she disappeared with my passport. She returns and explains that she sees my ticket has been purchased but for some reason I'm not on the flight manifest. She asks if I bought the ticket online and then explains that people always have troubles when they buy online. She could get me on this flight, but the connecting flight from Addis Ababa to Kuala Lumpur has been cancelled and the next one is in two days, so I could wait here for two days or in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for two days. I was stranded at the airport without any money and a debit card that doesn't work in this country.

After an hour or so of sitting in the airport office like an elephant that everyone was trying to ignore I decide to go and find a place to sleep. I spend the next two days in the Ethiopian airline office and eventually get them to pay for my hotel room and even for delicious meals at the hotel. I am astounded by the fruit drinks in a fancy glass with fresh fruit decorating the rim, by the breakfast buffet of so many delicious foods, pastries and meats piled up that I cannot help but feel gluttonous and like I’m cheating on my Ugandan friends that I know have never seen most of these foods. My first month out of Africa and it dawns on me that I have already experienced many things that most Ugandans never will, including; swimming in the ocean, visiting an aquarium, a canopy walk over the jungle in Malaysia, downhill skiing, snowshoeing, roller skating, swimming in a pool, eating at a buffet, having a pedicure and so many more. I am the luckiest person alive. I am amazed by all the good songs on the radio, how delicious cheese is, how much I’ve missed sandwiches, clean toilets, toilets you can sit on, hot showers and a sink with running water to wash my hands in before a meal. I jump in surprise when an automatic door opens for me and I am so pleasantly surprised every time I find a bar of soap next to the sink. I am the luckiest person alive. I think repeatedly about my friends and the students that I’ve left behind and how great it would be to share all these experiences with them. I take photos for them that they’ll probably never see, but maybe someday I can share all the beauties of this big world with them!

My oldest and dearest friend, Jennifer Basch and I have spent many hours in the past few weeks organizing and establishing Resilient Uganda. After phone calls, meetings and speaking with so many good people, we have agreed to work under an already registered and established non-profit that we really like and feel so blessed that we have connected with these great people. It was through a series of meetings with good people in Estes Park and being passed on to a friend of a friend, which brought us to Pam who runs H.E.L.P. Uganda, also working under the umbrella of H.E.L.P. International. The best part of joining with them is that we don't have to go through the fees nor the time consuming obligation of applying with the IRS for the 501c3 status, which could deny us anyway. Plus H.E.L.P. International is willing to let us continue in Kisoro with our mission and goals still being the project focus! Check them out at: http://www.helpint.org/

                                                                                     

Resilient Uganda’s focus is to create self-sufficiency within villages by meeting the basic needs of access to water and empowering Ugandans with the necessary resources, education and job skills to earn a living.  

If you want to know more about Resilient Uganda check it out on facebook; Resilient Uganda, our website; resilientuganda.webs.com or check out my blog http://bonniebzdok.blogspot.com/. If you are interested in a slideshow and bead party, let me know! I love to share the stories and we are selling beautiful handmade beads from Ugandan women. The colorful beads are made from recycled paper and by buying the beads you are empowering women by enabling them to provide for their families.

Next Stop, Minnesota, where so many good peeps are waiting for me, thanks for your patience and I cannot WAIT to see you all! The dump truck is calling me again, I have an opportunity to make more money in a summer than a Ugandan will make in his lifetime, I think I should take it!

Love, love, love and hope to see you soon!

Bonnie B.

      “Let your light heal the world”   -anonymous

Until Next Time Uganda March 10, 2014

Hello again Friends!

I hope this e-mail finds you warm and healthy! February has been a month filled with helping friends. It has also been hot and dry with a couple hours of heavy downpour about once a week, then a stretch of hot sunny days while we patiently wait for the relief of the rain again.

Thanks again to more of you, my amazingly generous and compassionate friends, family and fans we have recently sent two guys to get their driver’s license, so that they can ideally acquire jobs as truck drivers. When Peter, Paul and I hopped on the big post bus at 5:30 a.m. and it slowly started winding its way up the mountain switchbacks Peter mumbled, “It’s like a moving house!” Only then did I realize that he had never been on a bus before, which of course meant that he’d never been out of Kisoro before, never been to the city before. So, needless to say, we had some “Crocodile Dundee” moments when we reached the big city of Mbarara. I thoroughly enjoyed watching the boys in the supermarket, in awe of how many items there were on the shelves, even though the escalator wasn’t working, it was just as amazing to Peter, the concept of what it does left him shaking his head in disbelief and a big smile across his face. Crossing the street the first time was also amusing, but the best was when we sat down for dinner, not only did we have pork to eat but they also had a television outside with the football game playing…oh city life was fun!

We have also helped pay for a double surgery for sweet, little five year old Tracey. When she was recently vaccinated for Polio, two days later she couldn’t walk. Either the vaccine was bad, or for some reason she reacted badly to it, we’ll never know exactly what happened and of course her parents had no idea what was happening or how to help her. As is the African way her father asked everyone he knew to help him pay for the trip to Kampala and the first surgery so she could walk again. Little did they know it would take breaking her leg and a second surgery, each one costing 600,000 Shillings/ $240. USD.  Impressed as I was by his efforts to “find” the money, we ended up paying 500,000 toward the two surgeries. Julia is walking with a walker now, she arrives home tomorrow and I’ve been invited as “guest of honor” to welcome her home…but isn’t she the guest of honor?! They are a beautiful family and it was so nice to be welcomed into their humble little home by the entire village!

I am dreaming of ham and deviled eggs, stuffing and dumplings fried in butter and onions. Isn’t there something just amazing about the smell of butter and onions in a cast iron skillet? I shamelessly dream of pizza with white sauce, chicken, garlic and broccoli, spinach salad with vinaigrette dressing, pans of my sister’s gooey and delicious, sweet dessert bars. So, I’m having some food fantasies, what can I say? My stomach has always made the major decisions in my life! My warning to you is this; beware, you never know who may show up on your doorstep for Easter dinner!

After much debating, deliberation and hassle with trying to purchase a flight from here, turns out it is next to impossible to do unless you’re in the city and can go into the airline office, I am flying to Malaysia soon, where I’ll spend some quality time with Graciela’s mom and dad at their home in Kuala Lumpur. Debriefing on the past fourteen months, relaxing, possibly drinking some nice red wine and attempting to transition to life on the other side of the globe before continuing the long journey back to North America should keep us quite busy!!

Little arms that wrap around my legs while walking by or a little one running toward me with arms outstretched, as if they are my best friend is what I will soon be dreaming of. I will miss scooping them up hearing their giggles as I spin them around. Even the shouts of “Hello Muzungu” from the bushes no matter where I am, I will soon be longing for those voices when I am running down a country road in Minnesota, just me and my dog in the silence I so desperately desire right now. Oh Uganda, I will be back for your fresh fruit juice, for your forty cent pineapples and fifteen cent avocados. I will return for your leisurely pace of life, the steady strength of your people and the sheer excitement that comes across a locals face when they are greeted in their mother-tongue by a muzungu. Of course, there’s things I won’t miss also, for example as I sit and type this I have to quickly stop and yank down my drawers to find the flea that I can feel tickling my leg as it crawls around biting me! I will pray for my girls, Zamah, Christine, Faith and Esther, who have all now advanced to fourth grade. We have made progress, Christine is reading, but still very far behind. The teacher wanted her to repeat third grade, but she insisted she could do fourth and she is struggling. She and Zamah both live at school now, where they are sure to have food, they spend more time in class speaking English and with their teachers as role models, which is a better influence than they get at home. Zamah is excelling, getting brighter by the minute! Bridget, the sweet little one who can’t speak, she nor her sister came back to school after the Dec./Jan. holiday. I will pray for Bridget and hope her vocabulary is growing. She didn’t use or pick up many signs, but by the teacher repeating the words that were signed over and over again, she started repeating them, like a one-syllable parrot! Wilson is happily settled, dry and warm in his beautiful home, his feet have improved dramatically, the schools are gladly tapping their tanks every single day. We have improved lives, and as our old friend Ronald Reagan said,

               “We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone.”

Indeed we have. My gratitude is endless toward you, my personal support group and the innumerable number of incredible people in my life. The day I was born, I won the lottery. 100% winner. Thank you personally and genuinely for joining me on this epic journey, your faith, support and love have been my strength in so many ways. This Ugandan journey, of course, is not over; in fact I hope it is just beginning. I intend to continue raising funds through schools, through writing, through slideshows and presentations, through speaking to everyone and anyone who wants to hear it. The amazing strength and beauty found here is my model for persevering and for continuing to help those whose lottery was not as fortunate as mine, simple circumstances. I will be back to Resilient Uganda, because I have health, I have opportunity, I have resources and most importantly, because I have you and I have love, lots and lots of love…100% winner! So, it is not good-bye, but until next time Uganda!

With Gratitude and never ending love,

Bonnie B.                                                                                                            

              “The most effective medicine here on earth is LOVE unconditional.”

  “In about the same degree that you are helpful, you will be happy.” –Karl Reiland

                                     “My Religion is Love” –Anthony Douglas Williams

February 7, 2014

Another interesting and educational month has passed; I hope you all stayed warm and healthy! Things in Kisoro are back to normal, we had another “Hurricane Happy” strike. She left us for about two weeks and traveled through Kenya, Tanzania and Rwanda around Lake Victoria and back to us in Kisoro for another week of amusement.

She taught a few more classes while she was here and when we went to our friend Paul’s village just before starting her Sexual Health class, a cousin of Paul’s asks, “So, what is the class about?” She tells him, “It’s about sexual health, STD’s and contraception.” His response is, “No, nothing about contraception, my mother isn’t home right now, but she’s a Catholic and she wouldn’t approve of contraception being taught at her home.” So, as I choke on my tongue Happy, hesitantly, but happily agrees not to talk about contraception. I gaze around at the clusters and clusters of hungry kids and am startled by how complicated and contradictory Religion can be. How can we not encourage desperate people to prevent another pregnancy which may be either dangerous to the mother’s health or perilous to the child’s welfare? A woman dying of childbirth is too common in Uganda. The lifetime risk of a woman dying from childbirth is one in thirty-five, that number increasing as the number of births increase, not to mention the quality of life decreasing for each family member as the family grows. The rain comes and we all squeeze into the small house, the little wooden shutters on the one square window in the house are flung open for light and Happy begins her schpeel. Of course, it’s a much shorter class without the contraception information, but thanks to Mukaka (Grandmother) it lasts just as long. Mukaka is so ecstatic about the muzungu’s being there that she just can’t stop talking! She is constantly interrupting Happy, even standing and pointing, cracking herself up at some mysterious joke! Of course, she doesn’t speak English, so she doesn’t understand any of what Happy is saying and she isn’t listening enough to hear it from the interpreter. When Mukaka stands and wants to leave half-way through the class, the cousin tries to stop her. I look at him and ask him, “What are you doing?” He tells me, “She wants to leave, but I told her to wait.” “No, no, no…” I tell him. “Let her go, she is making it very difficult to teach by interrupting!” “Oh!” He says and tells Mukaka she can go and she happily wobbles her way through the dozens of children and few adults there. Happy and I look at each other with the same astonished look we’ve given each other countless times and smile. Of all the things I’ve enjoyed about having Happy here, this is probably my favorite, having someone to share those, “Oh My God!”, or “Can you believe this?!” moments with! That and the hysterical laughter, I miss that too!

I’ve moved out of the Reverend’s House and am renting a small room in town. It was time for some space and some privacy, something most Ugandan’s don’t seem to be aware of. Even now as I sit and type this people will freely come up behind me and openly read what I’m writing or they’ll pick up my notebook, open it and start reading! Didn’t even realize quite how unique and coveted privacy is! Many people grow up in a room like mine, a 12x12 square, cement room for a whole family. Often they hang a curtain across the center of it to separate the bed from the sitting room. A family of sometimes five or six people all sleeping together in that space, the neighbors share the same compound, bathing room and toilet. Usually these rooms are built in two long rows facing each other with a gate for security at one end and the small courtyard in between the only “yard” any of them have, which is where they cook and do their washing. The shared toilets and bathing space are a series of four or five small closet-like rooms with either a squat toilet or a drain for bathing. Everyone knows everyone's business! I can hear the neighbor’s music when he wakes up, I can hear his conversations when he has company and I can hear the whole compound arguing on Saturday morning when the electricity bill is due and we all have to pay our share. This has been a whole new experience renting a room in town. At the Reverend’s house when we ran out of water, it hardly affected me; the maids went to fetch water. When the power was out, they would heat my bathing water on the fire and even light candles for me to see! Now, when a water pipe breaks or the water mysteriously stops flowing for three days, it is me carrying my jerri-can to Amazing Grace to fetch water from the tank or bathing with cold water when the power is out. It is a more accurate experience of African Life, and it’s nice to take care of myself. The maids felt more like servants to me and that was the hardest part about living there. That and eating dinner at 10 or 11 p.m., now I can eat at a more reasonable hour and go to bed! It feels good to do things for myself, including washing my clothes, which everyone insists I “can’t manage” but I assure you, I can manage! No matter how much they shake their head and insist I’m doing it wrong, no matter how much they ask about our washing machines and I explain them, I continue washing my clothes in my little basin and they are clean.ish by the time I’m done!

On top of that new adventure I’ve also strangely become the “consultant” for a local hotel/restaurant/bar. This new job of mine has possibly taught me more in the past month than all of the last year has taught me, or at least I’m happy I’ve had the past year of experience in African culture to prepare myself for this! There are so many things that boggle my mind and amaze me, it is difficult for me to take the job very seriously! Beginning with the pay these people get. How can I expect them not to sit around and watch the t.v. all day when they are getting paid less than $2. per day to be here six or seven days a week from 7 a.m. until 11p.m. or maybe even midnight if there are customers? They usually get one day off each week, but many of them live at the hotel so it’s spent here anyway and they certainly don’t have money to go do anything on their day off. The owner of the hotel lives in Kampala and when he hired me, then went back to Kampala one of my first assignments was to fire the majority of the staff, there simply isn’t enough work for all seventeen of them, so he wanted me to weed them down to seven! I waited until the end of the month, paid them all, then sent most of them on their way. It went surprisingly smooth, when he was here he told them he was cutting back the staff and I reminded them throughout the month. The real problem came when the owner came back last week-end, he flew to Kisoro with a group of business men whom he was discussing major renovations and marketing the hotel with. These business men own a very high class hotel in Bwindi forest, where tourists go to see the gorillas. The first night they spent at “Cloud Hotel”, where a room goes for $900 USD per night!!! Bill Gates has reportedly stayed here multiple times, so that’s the time of clientele they are attracting. The second night they spent here, at “Kisoro Tourist Hotel” which attracts a much different type of client! It's a nice enough place but needs some work and some marketing, we have bad comments on Trip Advisor from previous staff and management. I am trying hard to replace them with better comments and working at training the staff on customer service and cleanliness. Despite the fact that the owner says he will come this week-end and fire the remaining staff and start fresh! So, while these high rollers were staying here, helping the owner with ideas and improvements they stayed up until 2 a.m. drinking whiskey and discussing, as you do...when they finally went to bed, one of the two white men went to bed, closed his door, but did not lock it. He woke up in the morning to his laptop, camera, blackberry, backpack, his 3 million Ugandan shillings and his 6 thousand USD stolen! Oooooh….not a good day! After filing a police report they immediately flew back to Kampala. Later that day, after bailing the receptionist out of jail and firing a few more people, we still don’t know who committed the theft but the new manager is threatening to quit because the owner is insisting we fire the one woman who actually works around here. Judith is the server, but she runs the show, she opens the place, and closes the doors at night, and does everything in between. Whether it’s 2 a.m. or 10 p.m. she is always the last man standing and does a great job at it. The irreplaceable must be replaced. Wheeeew, I need a drink just writing about it!

For those of you that are concerned I’m never coming home…no such luck! In March I will renew my visa one last time for another three months, which means I should be home just in time for a nice Minnesota summer!

Nothing but love,

Bonnie B.

                   "Life is nothing more than a stream of experiences

                                 - the more widely and deeply you swim in it, the richer your life will be."

                                                                                                   ~Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Happy 2014 Jan. 8, 2014

Happy Holidays Everyone!

I hope your Christmas was amazing and that your New Year brings you more peace than ever! Christmas Day was spent with my family and with my friends Vinnie, an Australian that I met in Kampala and Haley, my friend from AK who spent the month of December with me in Kisoro. We had a beautiful lunch at the German couples home, who live next door to us. It was a feast of plenty including meatballs and sugar cookies. Haley and I had several baking extravaganzas throughout the month; we introduced many lucky Ugandans to sugar cookies fresh from the oven and banana bread, both were very warmly received!

I feel so blessed to have the month of December filled with so many friends. I had a brief visit from Karin and Brita at the beginning of the month, it was so great to catch up with familiar faces and hear about their African experiences! They left me with a bulging bag of goodies and clothes to distribute along with many smiles and good stories. The very same day that they arrived, my friend Denyse, whom I also met in Kampala, but is Rwandan returned to Kampala after a week-end visit. So much goodness…when it rains, it pours! Haley and I toured Kisoro by foot and by motorcycle, we ran a marathon, taught sexual health classes, enjoyed lazy days at the lake, gave swimming lessons, baked, attended weddings, visited the pygmy's, took so many gorgeous photographs with her camera, went hunting for witch doctors and with Haley around there’s constantly sporadic dance parties, we were busy girls and had an incredible month!

Santa brought me "Happy", since they don't have the “L” sound in their alphabet, it comes out as an "R" and Haley, was being called "Harry". Although I thought that was a nice name for her, for some reason she didn't care for it and we quickly turned her into "Happy" which is a common name here and suits her beyond perfectly. The first class she taught was at my friend’s home, with about twelve young, African men in attendance. She taught everything from basic wound cleaning, hand washing, the importance of boiling your drinking water, splinting a broken bone, immobilizing the neck and transporting someone with a spinal injury. The syllabus was thorough and she even talked about nutritional information, the importance of eating colorful vegetables and adding variety to their diet, stressing carrots, avocados and their leafy green, spinach-like veggie of doe-doe. Everyone sat intently listening, along with the group of men, my female friends Denyse and Hope, the housekeeper, were a great addition to the group. At the end of the class, we decided to add some information on Sexual Health, STD’s, and the transmission of HIV. After the six hour class, when Happy asked for a final time if anyone had questions, we spent another two hours answering questions strictly about sexual health. It was obvious to us, where their interest was and what the most useful information to them was. From then on, the class turned into a Sexual Health class, there were nine classes in total, most of them in villages and we could have continued to teach, if only Happy decided to stay longer! Having Happy for a teacher and given the subject matter in which she spoke, makes for some very content students at the end of each class! She is bumbling ball of positive energy and laughter.

For most of the villages, we notified the sub county chief of the village and requested them to “mobilize people” for the classes, sometimes we showed up to a group of eager villagers sitting on benches outside of a church and other times we showed up to a surprised chief who quickly made excuses and sent someone to notify the villagers of the class while we sat and waited. When we arrived in the village of Kabaya, where we built the house for the old man, they were all surprised to see us, but Happy stood up in the trading center and began her dialogue about STD’s, condoms and HIV. The village men gathered and before I knew it there were over one hundred men standing there listening. I shuddered for her and couldn’t imagine how she had the courage to stand up there and talk about gonorrhea, chlamydia and genital herpes. The villagers were all interested in the information she was sharing and most had no idea that any other STD’s, besides AIDS existed. At the end of the class

one old man asked, “How do I properly wash out the condom before using it with another woman?” Or, one woman asked, “So…if I have all of these diseases, that means I have HIV?” The lack of knowledge on the subject was astounding and the desire to know more was equally amazing. Imagine not having access to this information or not visiting a gynecologist regularly, or ever. Imagine never visiting a Doctor for a check-up, or to just ask questions, imagine not having the internet or the library to research symptoms you may be having. They were thrilled to have someone to ask their questions to, and it didn’t stop at sexual health questions! Happy had to repeatedly tell them that she wasn’t a Doctor; she was a teacher of First Aid and Health and then she’d answer the questions the best she could, usually followed by, “and then see a Doctor”. We put an ad on the radio to advertise the classes in the remote villages; we hired a woman translator so that the women would feel comfortable asking their questions as well. The culture here does not allow women to speak openly and freely about many things. We were told that if the women asked questions about sex or condom use that their husbands may think they were cheating on them. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it’s many of the men that cheat on their wives and spread the HIV virus, or they have more than one wife and the wives have no say in the matter.

One Saturday morning we took a small, wooden canoe across Lake Mutanda, to a small island with about one hundred people living on it. Justine, the interpreter was with us and after hiking up the hill to the small church at the top, we sat in the blazing sun for over an hour while the people were “mobilized”. Eventually the entire population of the island was there, with no health clinic on the island these people were thrilled to ask about their varicose veins, about the skin rashes they have and many questions about HIV contraction, such as; when I go to the dentist can I get HIV? When I get my head shaved and share the razor with other people can I get HIV? Of course these are legitimate questions but still astounding that they don’t know the answers to them by now! Nor do many of them know how to properly use a condom, so after the first class, we went out and bought ourselves the biggest African carrot we could find and demonstrated how to put on, to remove and even how to dispose of a condom properly. Of course, not everyone appreciated this information, but we decided it was worth offending a few to stop the spread of diseases and possibly unwanted pregnancies in an already overpopulated and impoverished nation. Most people were very interested and were both astonished and entertained by it. After the class on Mutanda Island, we all slowly made our way back down to the boat through banana plantations while chewing on fresh sugar cane, we climbed into the boat and as Justine sat rigidly in front of us I asked her if she’s ever been in a boat before, she shook her head no. I asked her if she liked it and she said she was “fearing”. Of course there’s not a single life jacket in the boat and out of the seven of us, chances are good that it’s just Happy and I that know how to swim. Just after Happy and I briefly discuss that we’d have to choose which one we would save if the boat tipped, her phone rings. It is Justine’s husband, wondering when she’ll be home. Two days later it was Christmas, we started the day by delivering fresh banana bread to some families of the students I teach. Then, we celebrated at the German’s home; Happy, my Aussie friend Vinnie and I all enjoyed the feast and many silly games. It was a lovely day, filled with friends and laughter. Two days after Christmas we sent Justine a text, asking her if she could translate the next day for our final class. She told us she couldn’t, that she had a friend who was very sick in the hospital. The next day, after class, we were told that Justine’s husband had died of HIV. The “friend” in the hospital was her husband; she never told us he was sick, never told us he had HIV. Of course, that also means that Justine is probably HIV positive as well and possibly their three year old son, hopefully she took the drugs while she was pregnant with him to avoid him contracting the virus. A world of secrets, deception and delusions, the next day at the burial the Reverend tells us, “he was taken too soon, but that is life.” Everyone seems to be resigned to the terrible fates that Africa dishes out, no one questions it and no one has the courage or confidence to fight for change. It’s like they think they don’t deserve any better, they don’t have the right to a better life.

The hunt for a witch Doctor was in part to help us understand how people could actually believe in them and the superstitions in which they are bound. We drove through villages and pushed the motorcycles up hills through mud, we walked through the slick, rutted and muddy parts. We found men claiming to be witch doctors, but who couldn’t cure whites, we found a woman with so many animals and children in her compound there’s no way possible that she could know how many of either were there. We sat in the hut of an old man who claimed to cure people and when we started asking too many questions he started pushing us for marriage! He was willing to give ten cows for Happy; I was willing to give her, although we’d had much better offers (as many as 700 cows were offered for her!)  When I stood and left the hut the “doctor” whacked me on the leg with an iron hook he was waving around trying to intimidate us. Now poor Happy was stuck under the woman next to her, who was preventing her from leaving, he continued waving a metal rod around as if he was going to beat her with it! I found it all rather entertaining, not seeing how anyone could take this seriously. Eventually our friends went in and saved Happy from marrying the old man and we were escorted out of the home by dozens of the man’s children. In the end, the answer is desperation, when you are desperate for a cure, when you are desperate to believe that someone can change your situation, you will even bring to the man dressed in robes sitting in a round hut resembling a King’s dwelling your last cow, or the last of your food, the last of your money. You will try anything to change your fate and maybe, just maybe it does change, and of course you'll believe it was because of the powers of the witch doctor that it changed.

May your life be filled with “Happy” and may you always have the desire and the right to a healthy and bright future.  May you appreciate your right to ask questions, to push harder, to solicit what you deserve, to answer for yourself and may you always desire more, personally, for yourself and most especially may you always feel loved and respected. May 2014 be the year that you make your dreams come true…because you can.

With Love and Gratitude,

Bonnie B.

        “We are all visitors to this time, this place.  We are just passing through.

Our PURPOSE here is to learn, to grow, to love…. And then we RETURN HOME.”

                                                                -Australian Aboriginal Proverb

"You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and   affection."                                                                           ~ Buddha

December 5, 2013

Hello Happy Harvesters!

I hope your Sheep Camps, Labor Day Parties and Grateful Harvest Celebrations were enjoyable, successful and productive. The schools are breaking for the holidays again and all the kids and teachers are heading home to harvest potatoes and celebrate Christmas with their families. “We will have meat and enjoy, and many family members will be together!” It sounds so similar to the holidays at home, food and family, the two greatest things, yet, of course, so very different and two different extremes. While crammed into a bus with my daypack stuffed and heavy with necessities sitting on my lap, I can’t help but notice the guy next to me, who isn’t carrying a single thing with him, not even in his pockets. Of course I need my sunblock, I don’t want to get burnt. And water, that’s an obvious one, but how does he go without? In the blazing heat, all day long, one meal in his stomach somewhere around 3 or 4 p.m. When it rains he gets wet and when it rains on me, I pull out my umbrella. I also have to carry my sunglasses, snacks, the camera and a sweater, when it rains it gets cold. I have my book and my notebook, when we sit for hours waiting for God-knows-what, I have my book to read or paper to take notes with, while everyone else just sits and watches the world go by. My neighbor sits next to me with a handkerchief in his pocket, if he’s lucky. I am envious of his empty lap, of his freedom to move. Sometimes I feel like a real schmuk, of course I loved the few occasions a kid walked with me under my umbrella, or that I was able to share my snacks with the kid next to me. The problem often is that I don’t have enough for everyone, so I can’t share with anyone.

Irish potatoes are the big harvest for us right now, so it’s what we have morning, noon and night! Usually boiled, but sometimes fat-wedged chips or, we even had them mashed a couple of times! Grasshoppers are also in season! They are sprawled out drying on tarps all over town, it’s not the taste of them that I mind, it’s more the smell! They are salty and crispy sautéed in their own oil and with a dash of salt, they’re pretty decent! There are elaborate “farms” that set up shop for the month to harvest them. A 55 gallon drum stands with a huge iron sheet standing up inside of it. Then, they run lights overhead and the shiny steel attracts them, they land on it, slide in the drum and are too “drunk” from the bright lights to fly out. These men spend the whole month, working overnights catching the insects and on a good night they can fill up to twenty feed sacks! They sell each sack for up to 150,000 shillings, almost $60. It is a lucrative, but temporary business, so lucrative in fact that someone was recently murdered for his full sack of grasshoppers!

I started working at a Government school a few weeks ago when I returned to Kisoro and it is a whole new ballgame; no porridge served, no lunch served, dirty uniforms, dirty kids and most of them are barefoot. It is not allowed to come to school without shoes at Amazing Grace. It is more than slightly intimidating to walk into a classroom with over one hundred and forty students in it. They tell me they want me to work with “only” about seventy of them during the holiday, to help them read better. I explain that that is just too many and that we won’t make an impact on any if we try to work with so many. But the teacher insists, she will keep them busy outside, while I work with small groups inside. Ah….luckily we have a small library to access thanks to all the wonderful packages that have been sent from you, my faithful friends! Two more boxes have just arrived from my generous and thoughtful friends in Hope, AK! They will read, read, read aloud to me...all seventy of them! Often when we finish a page I’ll ask a question about what we read, like, “how did the dog get wet?” And quite often the response will be something like, “Yes”. So…comprehension isn’t quite what it should be, but “buhoro-buhoro”= “slowly by slowly”!  At Amazing Grace, we are building shelves in the back of the office to house all the books that we’ve acquired to start our own library.

Alaska’s coming  to me, perhaps the Universe really does know exactly what I need, and exactly when I need it! My friend Haley, a co-worker at St. Elias Alpine Guides in McCarthy, AK arrives in Kisoro tomorrow and she’ll be here for a whole month! She is a photographer extrodiare’, a rugged and rustling outdoors woman and has the most cheerful and happy nature! The children are gonna love her! As if that isn’t exciting enough, two days after that Brita and her mom Karen arrive for one short night and assumingly one million short stories. I cannot wait to catch up with these women who are following  in the footsteps of Brita’s Grandmother through Eastern Africa. I wish I had more of the story to share, but I’ll find out soon! Haley will be volunteering and adventuring with me. She’ll teach First Aid classes to locals, she happens to be a pro at it and we’ll also work at the school, planting some trees and maybe even some real labor building a new toilet, a “brick shithouse” type!

Just as the rest of you are presumably feeling these days…time is flying by! I am thinking of you all, even you brand new ones who I haven’t even met yet! I am loving you too, enjoy the holidays and all the love you are surrounded by. Consider those without and those less fortunate than you. My sincere wishes for each of you is to feel blessed and to be happy!

Love and Light, 

                                                                                                 

Bonnie B.

                               

        “The most effective medicine here on earth is LOVE unconditional.”

                     “In about the same degree that you are helpful, you will be happy.” –Karl Reiland

November~Brittney's visit! Nov. 5, 2013

Hi Friends!

I’m back in action, after three and a half weeks of being a tourist with my sister I am happy to be settled again. It was a wonderful few weeks, but exhausting. Bus rides, hiking, visiting with friends, schools and swimming and giraffes…are all extremely exhausting!

She arrived with a suitcase full of vacuum-packed bags stuffed with kid’s clothes, so our first mission was to get rid of that suitcase. We headed to Jinja, so she could recover from her jet lag and distribute the clothes to village children, while resting on the banks of the Nile. Our new lovely friend William drove us to a village to distribute the clothes. Luckily, we started with some control from the “town woman”! We started with a neat and orderly line, but it didn’t last long. As the crowd increased the breathing space on the little grass mat where we sat was reduced and soon it resembled a mosh pit more than a line! It was a perfect introduction for Brittney to the chaos, desperation and gratitude of daily life. We hastily found t-shirts that looked like the right size or tossed a skirt to a little one with no pants and then I’d wonder if it was a girl?! They were so grateful, if only we had more!

Murchison Falls National Park was our next stop. After six hours of quality roadside watching we had three days in the game park! At the top of the falls we enjoyed the cool, misty shower she offered us after the hike in 100 degrees to get there! At the bottom of the falls we enjoyed the bouncing and turbulent waters and some cold Nile Special Lager while learning about the fateful double crashing of Earnest Hemingway’s planes near the falls in 1954. He survived the first sightseeing plane crashing near the top of the falls, and then when the rescue plane came for him, it exploded on take-off and he survived again, this time with serious head trauma. While we pondered this staggering information we watched the massive bulk of hippos rise out of the water around us and wondered how he ever made it out alive, after crashing in the African bush. Later that night, we watched a hippo roam around our campsite! The woman working pointed him out to us and told us, “give him space and don’t shine your torch in his eyes…he hates that.”  Then she tells us his starting speed running is 45 KPH. Was that supposed to be encouraging? Later that night I heard him as his thunderous steps toured around our tent, it was like a small earthquake passing by the tent. In the morning we woke up early and drove out, hoping to see elephants, giraffes and lions! We stood and our heads poked out through the top of the truck to see herds and herds of antelope, warthogs and giraffes! I can’t believe all the giraffes, they were everywhere and so beautiful and graceful. The giraffe has the highest blood pressure of any animal in the world, to get his blood up that long neck! And also, he has to spread his front legs and bend his neck just right so that the head doesn’t go below the heart! The elephants hid themselves from us until the end of the day and the lions never did show themselves, but what a sweet treat it was to come upon a small herd of elephants with little black birds perched on their backs eating the parasites off the elephant…what a perfectly balanced friendship, I could use a friend like that!

Now, we were finally on our way toward Kisoro. With just a few short stops on the way! First stop, Fort Portal to see my dear Priscilla and Valley-Wey again, sorry you missed the party Rick, but thanks for everything, it was really great! Priscilla was so good to us, and other than almost killing her on the way back up the mountain from the waterfall, I think she had fun too!!

With a homemade pizza in a box, a bag full of her delicious and famous chapati’s and a bunch of bananas Priscilla sent us off on a matatu to Mbarara. I’ve decided Brittney is a good luck magnet when it comes to transportation. We sat comfortably in the back seat of the matatu, each with a full seat to ourselves, for the entire eight hour ride! The following morning we meet Keneth when he got off the bus and we headed to Ntungu, the village we provided the water tank for and all those beautiful little students at Hilltop School. After two hours on a motorcycle with bags full of soap and sugar and meat and more clothes for the kids here all stuffed between us, we suddenly stopped in front of a little brick house on a hill, the house had an orange tarp stretched out across the front of it and under it were about two hundred people, all eyes were on us as I wiped the dust ring off of my lips and pulled the big dirt balls from my eyes. “Sure…let’s join the party!”  We agree as I try to get my hips functioning again to make it up the hill toward the expectant eyes!  Brittney had no idea what she was in for and when we are asked to stand and introduce ourselves, of course she was mortified! After some songs, offerings and prayers, singing and dancing from the kids and after the most incredible dance I’ve ever seen, from the town drunk! (It was performed while lying on the ground, with hips thrusting into the air!) We walked home and were soon followed by all the kids, who came running up behind us, everyone wanting to shake our hands, hug us or at least greet us. It was a wonderful welcome to the village. We spent the following days at the school singing songs with the kids, reading books to them, exploring the village and the best part was that we brought twelve loaves of bread and a few cans of jam. So, our first morning there we jammed about one hundred and seventy slices of bread, then delivered them to the classrooms. Not one student knew what jam was, but with big eyes they accepted while doing a little genuflect to show respect and a “sank you very much!” They savored that slice of bread and jam; it was a delicious breakfast for them and provided a little more in their bellies than a sweetie would!

After the village, we stopped in Kabale, where we visited the orphanage that I worked at in May. We also visited Lake Bunyonyi and swam and relaxed and hiked through villages to get there. We stayed with Sarah and her incredible little family, so many great people along the way, who fed us and housed us and cared for us and loved us. Unbelievable, how blessed we are.

When we finally arrived in Kisoro we were exhausted and enjoyed hanging out with my family and friends there. We went to school each morning and worked with the kids. We spent the afternoons climbing up mountains or exploring the countryside in search of a lake to jump in. The kids I work with are especially at risk of dropping out of school because of poor grades, or lack of school fees. For this very same reason, 50% of Ugandan school girls are molested by their teachers, who are often just kids themselves. Brittney decided to sponsor one little girl that she was particularly impressed by for her willingness to learn. I have been working with Zamah for almost six months now and on her last exam she jumped from 15% to 58%. She is eager to learn and was at school every single morning to work with me during the last holiday.  She is reading better than ever and I believe her scores will keep rising! For each year of education that a girl receives, it is estimated that she will produce 10% less children, and the likelihood of her contracting HIV is about 20% less. Not to mention that without an education it is impossible to gain any sort of employment, education is invaluable for these girls. I am so proud that Brittney will be providing Zamah with an education, hopefully all the way up to University, what an incredible gift!

Then, to top it all off, while she was here, we moved Wilson into his new home and had an official house warming, dedication and blessing for him! His new home, complete with a bed, sheets and blanket is beautiful! While visiting with him and inspecting his toes for improvement Brittney and I were attacked by fleas and had them up our pant legs and biting us for hours afterward! We had to confirm that the boys would wash all of Wilson’s clothes and even bathe him before he was able to sleep in his new bed. When we went home that night, we turned our pants inside out and pulled dozens of fleas out of the seams of our jeans. A small taste of what Wilson has lived with, but will no longer!

So, the adventure continues. Brittney’s visit has come and gone, but I am still here. I still have work to do and the adventure continues.

Thank you all for your love, your prayers and your support.

Every day that I live, I have more to be grateful for.

Bonnie B.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. In fact it is the only thing that ever has.”                                                                                        -Margret Mead

Hi Again~Wilson and his new home! Sept. 18, 2013

Hi again!

Just a fast hello to each of you and a quick update on Wilson and his new home! My plans to leave Kisoro changed when I sent out a call to you, my generous and loving friends for help, and you again responded so kindly and promptly. The rainy season has arrived in Uganda again and I couldn’t make him wait until October for a decent home, so I am still in Kisoro. We started construction soon after I sent that e-mail and progress has been remarkably fast. Attached are a few photos of the many trips to the village to bring supplies and to check on the progress of the building. Well, it is a few photos if you consider the hundreds of photos I’ve taken of the project! The entire community is grateful to us for helping this Muzae (old man). The two loads of stone and three loads of sand were carried by local women from the truck, up the path to the compound. When I paid the ladies the 50,000 Shillings ($20. USD) for each load that we agreed on, then actually counted the number of women and kids who were carrying, it was about $1. per person per load. The stones were carried in one day, but the sand took a couple of days for each load. They accepted the work and were grateful for an opportunity to make money. I’ve taken soap for the ladies to wash clothes with and books to read to the children, and of course my slew of children’s songs to sing with them.  I am happily greeted by dozens of people every time I arrive. It is an amazing feeling, a feeling I wish more than anything that I could share with you, but this computer is only capable of so much!

There is another reason I wasn’t meant to leave Kisoro yet. The new term started on Monday. Tuesday morning the director told me Christine had come on Monday evening and told him that all her clothes and bedding had been stolen from her. He sent her home to get the two dresses she said she had remaining and told her to come back that night; we would figure out what to do in the morning. Tuesday morning when I realized she wasn’t in class, I went to the Director and asked him if we could go to her home, I had a feeling something wasn’t right. I had also seen her brother in town the day before and with his limited English and strange personality, he told me something like, “Christine is stubborn. She doesn’t cook. I’ll come to school and tell the director to beat her.” I brushed him off and walked away. The director agreed that something wasn’t right and we went directly to her home. We found her mother and oldest brother, who lives next door there. After some confusion and translating we discovered that two of Christine’s brothers ‘chased’ her from her home a few nights earlier. They came home drunk and were beating her, so she ran away in the night. The oldest brother walked us to where they guessed she was, all the while telling us that his mother and brothers take too much alcohol and can’t be trusted. He also indulged us with stories about how he and his wife didn’t drink because of the constant fighting and yelling from his family while they were drunk. When we found Christine at her cousins, the cousin told us the whole story, or supposedly the whole story. I’m not sure what to believe anymore, but my guess is that it was the brothers who stole Christine's belongings. When Christine came in the room wearing dirty rags, she didn’t look any of us in the eye, but she shook my hand, then sat down on the wooden bench next to me. While the cousin, the director and the handful of other men that showed up discussed the details of the situation, I leaned down and asked Christine, “Do you want to go to school?” She shook her head no and said, “I don’t have shoes.”  I told her, “Don’t worry, we can get you shoes and blankets. Do you want to go to school?” Then she said, “Yes”. She went to the back of the house and came out in another dirty dress, a plastic shopping bag with a knot tied in the bottom to keep her few possessions from falling out of the bottom. She walked along barefoot, answering the many questions the director and I had on our way back to school. We got more disturbing and terrible stories about her family life, including the fact that the oldest brother who walked us there does drink and he beats his wife. He has even beat his own mother. She told us her family eats once a day and has gone for four days without eating during this holiday. After she bathed at school, I walked her to town and we bought her shoes, school books, underwear, a school bag, socks, and a basin for bathing, soap, a case to keep her new belongings in and bed sheets and a blanket. Most of which I had purchased for her before, but it was all stolen. After that, we went to the Potter’s Village and talked to the Social Worker and the Medical Doctor. Christine isn’t admitting to any sexual assaults, but the Social worker is planning to visit the family. She is safe at school for  the next three months and what I’m hoping the social worker can manage to arrange is for her to go back to her cousins home during the next holiday…and forever more. As if life isn’t hard enough here, between hunger and dreadful living situations, then to have drunken older brothers beating you for not cooking, when there is no food in the house to cook. What a “holiday” for Christine. The one thing, of all the things we bought for Christine, that got a smile and even a HUG from her...was the loaf of bread I brought her at school today.

Rain is pounding on the tin roof now, classes even cease because teachers shouting at the top of their lungs cannot be heard with the rain pummeling the tin roof.  I see children jumping around with mouths moving, but no sound coming out of them. I can also see the water tank filling!

So maybe it wasn’t such a “quick hello” but I tried to keep it short this time!

Love and kindness,

Bonnie

                   “Our prime purpose in this life is to help others.

                                          And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.”                 –Dali Lama

Live Simply, so others may Simply Live. Aug. 26, 2013

Hi again!

I hope you are all feeling good and spreading happy! A quick Hello and a fast farewell!  I’m leaving Kisoro again…but just temporarily…again! The little town at the headwaters of the Nile calls, you remember the one, with monkeys hanging from the trees and Kayakers paddling down the river?  Jinja, is where I met Carly six months ago when I arrived and where I’ll be heading for the month of September while I patiently count the days until my sister Brittney arrives!

Always a quick stop in Kabale on my way through to visit my friends there and all those happy little faces that greet me at Kerungi  Children's Village. Then, I’ll spend the rest of September in an Orphanage in Jinja, which is just an hour from the airport (compared to ten hours away, like I am in Kisoro).  Brittney arrives on Oct. 3rd, I’m incredibly excited to show her around, explore the North and see the wild animals with her! We’ll have a whole month so she’ll even get to stay with my family in Kisoro and work at Amazing Grace with me for a couple of weeks.

The progress at school has been rewarding and at times even amazing. My dear new friend Liz, an English woman who was visiting Kisoro, taught me some awesome tricks for teaching these challenged learners.  She identified a few of them as being dyslexic and one as autistic, which adds a whole new dimension of ‘fun’ for me! The opportunities are pretty limited here for a kid like Collins. He’s as bright as the day is long, but he’s socially awkward and if I might be honest, for once…slightly annoying! It was really good to work with her and she even left me her bag of tricks to use, including wooden cut- outs of the alphabet, a very useful tool! I never realized how much I miss fellow-muzungu’s until I meet  someone like Liz, who’s from a world similar to mine! We have great conversations about the oddities around us, trying to understand some of it. Like why do you pay for a full month’s electricity bill when the power was off for two full weeks in the middle of the month? And, why do we process and pasteurize the cow out of our milk, when all we need to do is boil it? Or how can a four-year-old die and everyone says, “we don’t know what she died from”? How can this be normal?

Working with the sign language interpreter and her class teacher alone has given Bridget more vocabulary than she’s ever had. She can make almost every sound in the alphabet, she has a long way to go before saying two-syllable words, but she is on her way. They are on holiday again for a few weeks, so things will resume with the teacher and hopefully with a speech therapist when they return. As much as Peninah, our deaf friend who was teaching Bridget, enjoys staying at the school and working with Bridget, I don’t think we need her. A bittersweet fact, a blessing for Bridget, but not for Peninah.

There’s nothing like a reminder that you’re in Africa, I went into a shop and asked for a couple liters of the ubushera drink to take home for dinner and it is handed to me in a blue jug that reads, “Diesel Oil” across the front label. My engine should prrrrrrrr good tonight!

We have blessed the school in Ntungu  with the first 5,000 bricks for their new classrooms. They are the same school we treated to the posho flour and the water tank. They study on the dirt floor on mats. We have broken ground for a four classroom block. It sits on top a beautiful mountain overlooking banana plantations and village paths up and down the sides of the mountains, the same paths that bring the kids to school. The construction will be done in phases, as donor money comes in they will build up the walls, the roof and eventually the iron sheets for the roof will complete the building and they'll be studying in a proper classroom. “Slowly by slowly”, which is how things are done in Africa.

Last night’s village visit was more than I had bargained for.  I saw one of the most disturbing things I’ve seen since being here. Through donor support, my friend Mark sponsors many children to attend school by paying their school fees and sometimes he provides them with blankets, school books, or other necessities. We visited six homes of these families and met so many amazing and incredibly friendly people. We asked the parents what they hoped for in the future, what they wanted for their children and everyone’s answer was the same, as they stood barefoot, leaning against their simple mud homes they all told us “for my child to be educated, to be able to get a job.” While visiting with two little boys who Mark supports and enables to attend primary school we noticed an old man sitting across the compound. He was sitting against a shack made of sticks and dried branches; I assumed the building was the pen where the goats were kept at night. He was happy to talk to us, happy to have his photo taken and happy to share his story with us. His face looked strong and healthy, his body looked thin and frail, but what alarmed me was the condition of his feet. As he sat, leaning against his home he tells us he is alone, his wife has died, his brother has died and these people living on his property in decent structures are the family of his late brother’s wife. He is seventy years old and he is starving because he can no longer walk to his fields to harvest his crops or fetch water. Why these people living around him allow this to happen I can't figure out and neither of my interpreters were willing to ask. The jiggers have eaten away at his feet, living in the dirt it is impossible to stop them from burrowing into his toes, under his nails, and into the bottoms of his feet. He shakily stood and showed us inside his home. I was appalled at what I saw.

My friends, I’m asking again. If you have it in your hearts and in your wallets, please spread it. For less than $1,000 USD we can build this man a one-room home with a cement floor and cement walls. The jiggers will never go away, he will not be able to walk or work in the fields to provide himself food if we don’t get him out of the dirt. This is a seventy-year-old man who is living in conditions suitable for an animal.

Live Simply, so others may Simply Live.

Top 10 Words of Wisdom By Gandhi

1. Be the Change you wish to see in the world

2. What you think you become

3. Where there is love there is life

4. Learn as if you'll live forever

5. Your health is your real wealth

6. Have a sense of humor

7. Your life is your message

8. Action expresses priorities

9. Our greatness is being able to remake ourselves

10. Find yourself in the service of others

Love and Gratitude to all,

Bonnie