Thursday, April 24, 2014

Lessons from Kisoro Mar 8, 2013

Hello again!

A few short tales from Uganda for you!

The Ball:
The first day I visited "Amazing Grace" the teachers rang the bell and everyone came to the courtyard to "assemble". They sang me a song, then I sang them a song. They sang me another song and I asked if I could sing them one more. They shouted, at the top of their lungs, "yes madame!". First I sang them "head and shoulders, knees and toes..." then I sang them the "hokey pokey". They thought that was hilarious, especially when the crazy mzungu was "shaking it all about". I was invited to come back and start my volunteer work the next day. Chantel, the head teacher, who is just eighteen years old, told me I should bring a gift for the children, "they need a soccer ball". So, I go to the shop that afternoon and I pay $24. for a soccer ball. The next day they assemble again for me to present it to them. I tell them I brought them a present and if they promise to be good students, try their hardest and listen to their teacher they can have the gift. Three-hundred and fifty little faces nod up and down in anticipation, they want this ball so bad, they can taste it. I can see some of them whispering, "it's a ball!". The ball is under a cloth that I'm holding in my arms. As you can imagine it's difficult to hide the shape of a ball, but I tried! I take it out from under the cloth and they go crazy, you'd have thought I'd given them the goose that lays golden eggs! They nearly stampeded each other in their excitement. I happily toss it to one of the bigger students and a teacher instantly grabs it, he's just as excited as the children are.

No Water:
Everyday at 10 a.m. the kids get a cup of steamy, hot porridge. It is their breakfast. A few days ago, no porridge was served. When I inquired why there was no porridge, I was told there was a problem with the water... no porridge today. The next day the same thing. When I asked how they were cooking lunch the teachers pointed as the assistant cook peddled off on his bicycle with about six jerri-cans tied to the back end of it. He rode to a house on the other side of town that had water. Can you imagine the weight of that bicycle on the way back? Lunch is very predictable. It is always rice and beans. Once in a while there is "posho" the corn mash, also on occasion there are "irish potatoes" in addition to the rice. When I'm lucky there are ladies outside the gate selling avocados to zest up the meal. t's the same thing everyday, but it fills and nourishes me! The menu at home for dinner with the family is a little less predictable though it is still a limited menu. Rice, beans, potatoes, posho, matoke (like a plantain, it looks like a banana but is more like a potato), avocados, onions, a few carrots and my favorite..."g-nut sauce". G-nut simply stands for "ground nuts", it's similar to a Thai peanut sauce and is delicious atop any starch they serve! The next day when it rained, they had every pot and pan they had under the eaves of the school to catch the rain pouring off the roof. This was their cooking water. They need a tank and rain gutters desperately.

Ava:
Ava is the housekeeper/cook/maid/nanny of the house. She is eighteen years old and is a wonderful cook. I've had all the above dishes in restaurants and none compare to what she can do with the same basic ingredients. She wakes at 6 a.m. to build the fire which she cooks on. The "kitchen" is a tin shack behind the house, she has three "burners" each with a seperate fire burning under it. The inside walls and ceiling of the "kitchen" are black with soot and smoke from the fire. I imagine Ava's lungs look the same. When I ask Immaculate about it, she says "yes, I would like to get a gas stove someday so Ava doesn't have to work in this." Immaculate also works in the kitchen helping Ava each night when she gets home from work. All day long Ava splits the wood, tends the goats, cooks the meals, watches the baby, does the laundry and the dishes...all by hand, of course. Even the dishes are done outside, while bending over a massive tub, then left to dry on an outdoor table. She sweeps and scrubs the floor each morning, she thrashes the beans, she tirelessly works like a horse, when she finally sits to enjoy her dinner around 10 p.m. she is asked to get up and answer the door when someone knocks, or to get a serving spoon, whatever it is that we need, Ava does it. As I was helping her in the kitchen the other night, I asked her how much she gets paid per month. She answered 40,000 Ugandan Shillings. The equivelant of $16. U.S. Dollars per month. Of course, she gets room and board, which I'm sure is a great perk. I also imagine this house to be a bit "upper-class" and her salary is probably better than many in the same position. She is grateful for the job and works while happily singing all day long.

The Burial:
While the Reverend was rushing off to a "burial" the other day I asked him I could join him. He said "yes, but you will be the only mzungu there, so there will be many eyes on your nose!" I'm used to that! The Reverend, Immaculate and I climbed up a steep hill to where the woman lived. When we finally arrived panting and sweating about thirty minutes later, the courtyard of her home was packed with people. There were women and children covering the ground, there were men and elders on benches and chairs in every square inch of the small yard. Some were dressed in their finest, while the next was dressed in a dirty t-shirt and a big, floppy hat directly from the field. They carried her small, wooden coffin to a table just in front of me as they stumbled and climbed over all the people. The prayers and songs lasted for about thirty minutes, I didn't understand any of it but it was a simple and beautiful farewell, even the chickens came out to say farewell to her. They meandered around the crowd and climbed over peoples legs. Finally, they again carried the coffin to the backyard where they had already dug the hole. There, beneath the three small banana trees in her own backyard is where she will rest. I can only hope for such a simple and meaningful place to be laid to rest.

English:
I'm quite used to repeating myself, speaking slowly and I even find myself saying things like: "boosh" ..."bush"! or "booooks" they just don't understand me if I say "books". Conversations often go something like this:
As Innocent, the houseboy was laying out a big, blue tarp in the yard the other day I tried to ask him what he was doing...
me: "what are you doing?"
"yes".
me: slowly..."what are you doing?"
"preparing".
me: slowly..."preparing for what?"
"yes".
me: slowly..."what are you preparing for?"
"yes".
me: slooowly..."you are preparing to do what"?
"preparing to thrash beans".
me: "oh, I see" as I learn to watch and learn rather than to ask questions!

Love,
Bonnie

Photos attached:
#1  3rd grade classroom
#2 Singing with the kids
#3 lunch time...Rice and Beans!
#4 Boys playing in the mud!
#5 Did I mention Ava also takes care of the chickens?!

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