tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22747934609560980562024-03-22T05:07:48.911+03:00The Brett DiasporaOut of America, into Africa. Descriptions, rants, raves, contemplations, and (hopefully) epiphanies from a Peace Corps Uganda Volunteer.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-73479037714827950102009-05-13T10:15:00.010+03:002009-05-14T13:07:43.434+03:00The End<div align="left">I have an announcement to make. Drum roll please...................<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">My two years have come to an end! I've moved out of my house and left the village of Naddangira. I feel happy, sad, excited, apprehensive, proud, nostalgic, confused, optimistic and a lot of other things that I cannot even put a name to. At the same time, I think I am still in shock and haven't truly realized that I am leaving Uganda. After two years here it is hard to imagine how different my life will be once I leave. It makes my brain hurt a little just to think about it. So I'm just trying not to think too much.<br /></div><div align="left">The last few months have been very busy as I tried to tie up loose ends and complete my projects, as well as saying goodbye to my friends and colleagues here in Uganda. But at the end of it all, everything was finished in time, including:<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">THE ST. PIUS PRIMARY SCHOOL</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="font-size:180%;">LIBRARY</span></span></strong><br /><br /></div><div align="center">The "library" before we began. This room was not being used, except for storing a few musical instruments and old shoes (I don't know why they had old shoes, mystery to me).</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335210812964308242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLdRiKAqrVXg0Qo9D1Tgda8fGPeRAQ8IbLiDbQTGCUXklMovAP8MjItc3QGWlYH8_VJpE1k43EFlZ3__xUkEf-OrWr5TUsz8pNWMWlDzV8aFw1Y2ZPLIyDJlKc1nl8-hGGAChVBhyGGLS/s320/Brett+014.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The shelves, which were built by the first grade teacher, a carpenter, and myself, reusing lumber from broken desks and chairs.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335214803663825810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5eCPTr3gRovvL1g5B5SFPVE21fS-XBEVnT4F9Jv1jh6Q66rHc4DA481q9CRSR2zBEwkz9eeYvdRDGwb2DhFq3W2vAPdAAm13a0_R7r6oasyYEk0aM3ixFgrPEoyQJM4CLaoHiQwTFvRIa/s320/Brett+036.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Me, painting.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335214807327320306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJB1pfPpSMRVh1vn9RVirp5xZladVYYJqQGt5-73mNPywkoVIyaygGQtMmqGVKFkgIFDIL-G67H8WhwcsBG6TC-m6kpn8ukl6iWbhRsZugq55esFvc-3O-Ud_lnqnnljroafBWO0yhSyy/s320/Brett+041.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div><div align="center">Some of the books, organized and labelled!</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKa0R7H1XkxJqxjXoam2cGuvjw3byvX9wxCmmfKoW33r48ZSnd-zyI_1p8naGRDCKRokohEQkuHw8oaS9csMW_VV4_kvfbTHb9sJr3lo5gpe4ifc49W_1yFsWWt9aOn3uHhOSi-9xZAU_/s1600-h/Brett+165.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335214817179815186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKa0R7H1XkxJqxjXoam2cGuvjw3byvX9wxCmmfKoW33r48ZSnd-zyI_1p8naGRDCKRokohEQkuHw8oaS9csMW_VV4_kvfbTHb9sJr3lo5gpe4ifc49W_1yFsWWt9aOn3uHhOSi-9xZAU_/s320/Brett+165.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Teachers and a student working in the library to make instructional materials.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzjR9NYcHIxh5sWdzDjhtAkMckU1nsay3T-CwDjuyE2yGoNPdFB_VzMavk-sXjt4c7gC_ghASv74cxmZZfFSFpGfAJwdIJwkTWGrSltVfDaoVo6jIrMfK4_awFiCzXhNqOYTrZm-Fn5L7/s1600-h/Brett+164.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335214809466639170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzjR9NYcHIxh5sWdzDjhtAkMckU1nsay3T-CwDjuyE2yGoNPdFB_VzMavk-sXjt4c7gC_ghASv74cxmZZfFSFpGfAJwdIJwkTWGrSltVfDaoVo6jIrMfK4_awFiCzXhNqOYTrZm-Fn5L7/s320/Brett+164.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">THE ST. ANNE PRIMARY SCHOOL</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="font-size:180%;">LIBRARY</span></span></strong><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center">The library, with students peeking in at the windows. </div></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335210815247972210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_lswQATs_xcXUSaUvFnJwCZG59ZM38g6Zvimzhk7dwAJM0a5rWt1WyOWDuGf8Jkn4UYeFOEnMla3jjTnOcf90jfzP1zOHNCH9nTXWvmmuTxBUmdb1wfQsquz41cKHGIZEYxuEg0rwRd5/s320/Brett+018.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">A teachers showing her colleagues how to use some of the library materials.</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335210821922236146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNx80BhELzPdsNrJZjJeqMGvAB2l5IvkdzwoXNeeO3OMEHYD-CDzTmXG0L8MGpCMfcCxVfoCmlWxn5Rz1E4esxXtetvqtMKTP7W09aS5MtlIySAp6L0AH983D0oMVky2ANu32xXaIblz-4/s320/Brett+020.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="font-size:180%;">THE NEW CLASSROOM BUILDING</span> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">AT ST. KIZITO BUZIMBA PRIMARY SCHOOL</span><br /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br />The building in its original state, with children inside learning.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335613378177295202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7p8WsAytUG9X548BDJ91k3WloqRlgXD5xREA1ezkCDHJALj2Ea_3DqI3-nPTW3pSyk1zGdJ-xeIU93kpCH7Td6N_IXgbYc3Mrhfft_VK07Q2SqBmmrG0crRqX4pkEr8vUWZQxPaIWk4G/s320/buz2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><br />Construction....<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335613385381399874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6QEFKtCTYQPL4cTmw8M8OixIY0YNyZZv_ecodUwq48wE0MnclFVwRZahyGhTa1CRbVFcBftAdD64Dq8NEIqVLjNJYB0zPluLvA6e-MZ1UBcXp03yUHuTx_313mXbrYlMlDop1HHba60F/s320/buz3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><br />The Headmaster and the finished building.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335613391219745010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tJwk6olQJ91OoWpnreMS6TfVMqtwzVu6LYci5I3wtR2MrpxJPGi6clSGZ_8rvREOPMBjbg02RVAIeOZUKPj640qhzDGsZV_smZfFwk8pZ0uO3B7EfcWHooBxCCtjgCX4QMGHe0CRMs8H/s320/buz.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Parents gathered for the official opening of the new building.</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aqyth49NFFFNComynmm6h6RpWEA3piNbFx5YX5IiUlPf8LvxuGDe2-JnzQ5e3k63i8ZyBpFJfVtba5Fz9eSdMzByZL-58OUTQ0iNMgIrDAsiVrK9nekaOlwA9NTxB16tdDpP-eprJN00/s1600-h/Brett+024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335214798836517794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aqyth49NFFFNComynmm6h6RpWEA3piNbFx5YX5IiUlPf8LvxuGDe2-JnzQ5e3k63i8ZyBpFJfVtba5Fz9eSdMzByZL-58OUTQ0iNMgIrDAsiVrK9nekaOlwA9NTxB16tdDpP-eprJN00/s320/Brett+024.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left"><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">FAREWELLS......</span></strong><br />The thing that is hardest about leaving is leaving the people that have cared for my while I've been here. Everyone, from the women in the market selling food to the Principal of the Primary Teachers' College, has asked me, "Okomyewo ddi?"--"When are you coming back?" This is such a hard question to answer. I sincerely hope that I will one day be able to come back to Uganda and visit--no, I KNOW I will one day return to visit--but who knows when. And who knows who I will find still in my village. I may never see some of my Ugandan friends again. But enough of the sad side, I feel confident that I will keep in touch with some of my friends in Uganda, and even if we lose touch they have changed me forever.<br /><br />My counterpart Lukman and schools I have been working with came together to organize a farewell celebration for me. It was thoughtful and touching and I feel so grateful to have spent two years in the Naddangira community. These people took care of me and welcomed me in a way I cannot explain! Saying goodbye was hard, but at the same time I felt good.<br /></div><div align="center"><br />Kazibwe Joseph, the Headmaster of St. Pius Primary School, at my farewell ceremony.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335235676273559298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAH1f-quQhMhSN3-x5ZRuhqQja6VdjKH-OHbCI3-Bt4RxGr4oFBeLkQwdUD12-6PByiY3uXnoYgkoECU9PzCKU8sagfZ3hY1VWADmO9kNj5kBNJYx0eBYc0MhvvI_K3cP3x_xPSH6YY0L/s320/Brett+128.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">Me accepting a gift of sugar cane from some of the children.</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335235672600381506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tVr-U1kDC8UoVA7ayBeOUffCuLm7Bs65wQ5h60q1WfnKce9s-bbu1xrvTwIOibFKaNF1ttYeG2j2bqqxH3ZLTQIiu3AyOs4MKEFVobaf7r2G0xgQvqYy9hW0go8wsXNkLeYFE1OrtKff/s320/Brett+104.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><div align="center">A few of the students of St. Pius say goodbye!<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335235684175073218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJl8YywVXsoXtpzwhjNjHrKAxnSMHmz3-Yj5Y0x1nCYQPK7r-Lml-fEj1U7ggvXkSuBFE9nntDOOUJwyr4bglah8z-x1OoLnMYxLwd7zlRxc4ONf1hbxB7X7ZTGr4tm97gFQ1iwn-pQnDu/s320/Brett+136.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><br />The teachers of St. Pius<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335250964969565010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwuDghMKKrluzo76nJOxwgNlqNy2h93mE8eU9H4fQxlwn8lE9i6ti0HGH3rC-j2ss1AJIM7SdV_HK9A387a5ZgiraL0m5Q_hq-cH_E8b1Il11a_LfgWbTOAi1RIo3ugOE6gMGQJJb70EeO/s320/Brett+160.jpg" border="0" /> <br /><br /><div align="center">The women I live with </div><div align="center">(from top left:Nakayiza, Carol, Julie, Betty; </div><div align="center">from bottom left: Annet, Siza, Rita, and Letishia).</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335250962159917714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ah_DC7FHwGQEBTOv7sy5O6fAhYnve9TLV93qPeifpkokM4Nb4hcJJhQ-cswOdRS9VVpkUyC6H9yOj9akcDSMTohymZjNeZeaUVZ3Lu_WxKnLDclOXYpcYU6Vvg25oTJ0ns-8KTX5eJas/s320/Brett+140.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">My going away party at my house. </div><div align="center">This was the awkward-dance-party segment of the evening.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335250969929131682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGiNERwjvwBIoxeccSM2_sBfCjk4r-_R9cSN5XGEW9gzduxLQpxPrH5PA3s3gMlIsx5WvzVkHYKqmlDVZSMQuCKY0h7ojj0ei7b25BHCXOJcs9JnqeilmVPHN2-DdoJsI7ii4KUaaVk16/s320/Brett+212.jpg" border="0" /><br />Me and Lukman's family (from top left:Rayan, Hajirah, Josephine, Baby Riyaz, Me, Lukman; from bottom left, ____, Rahman)<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335250975753068546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UBY7qtJ1yO3IOJvRPS_d5FbEyqrfXFOPMJ8PaVRueDa3C7QD3UCoO6VQSaF6JQkx4poYhMh-uGO-C7_o8G8U8iSgtoI4rOxTzHtMSoi1LvnzCbaavrXCm8FSaITjkVvlcn9H9IlYOZcf/s320/Brett+218.jpg" border="0" /></div><p align="center"><br /><br />I will leave Uganda on May 15th. I plan to travel in Malawi and Mozambique before returning to the US on June 17th. Get ready.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">THE END. </span></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRZPJ27ycQKGP8hyphenhyphendky8LWNlPpIUauA05F-NpRqmlcaaIybry8D4pfjHGlBvpfN2gPwfMB6ayR_eW-Ajo1RjXZL7dsrNh1dq87JkWjtTIiDYXjud1IBJWnzBxBuW89T-wvjIv9uPiPzKu/s1600-h/Brett+PC_09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335210806048340002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRZPJ27ycQKGP8hyphenhyphendky8LWNlPpIUauA05F-NpRqmlcaaIybry8D4pfjHGlBvpfN2gPwfMB6ayR_eW-Ajo1RjXZL7dsrNh1dq87JkWjtTIiDYXjud1IBJWnzBxBuW89T-wvjIv9uPiPzKu/s320/Brett+PC_09.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-8678426310548233302009-01-26T12:11:00.000+03:002009-01-27T10:28:00.303+03:00Cut it!...Imbalu CeremonyUganda is made up of approximately 50 different tribes (thanks colonialism!). Of course there are a number of similarities between the tribes, but there are also a lot of cultural differences. Language is a big one--there are something like 47 different languages spoken in Uganda!<br /><br />The Bugisu tribe, found in the far east of the country near Mount Elgon on the Kenya border, is unique among Ugandan peoples in that it performs a circumcision ritual for all men. For a Gisu (the singular form of Bugisu) boy to enter manhood they MUST be circumcised. Publicly. The age at which the boy is circumcised varies, but it usually takes place somewhere between 14-18 years. The ceremony is a rite of passage and celebration, and there is a lot of pride attached to it's successful completion. Basically, it's a pretty big deal.<br /><br />So, of course, I <em>had</em> to see a Bugisu circumcision ceremony: the Imbalu.<br /><br />I went with my friend Dan to his colleague Tadaeu Mabonga's village. Mabonga's sons and nephew were getting circumcised and he invited us to come witness the ceremony and participate in the celebration. The ceremony actually takes place over the course of three days, with the actual circumcision happening on the third day. The first two days are mainly a series of dances and processions that mentally and physically exhaust the boys (probably so they're too tired to panic at the last minute and try to escape the knife!). On the third day they're smeared with a yeast mixture and dressed traditionally in beads the goat skin. Then they lead a procession of their family and friends around the village singing and dancing. At the end of the procession the friends, family, and neighbors gather around in a big mob, the boys standing on a cloth in the middle. Then a "trained" village man uses a big, big knife to cut off a rather large piece of foreskin. And viola!!! The boy has become a man! I've included some pictures below, although I did not post any of the more graphic shots. But it was an incredibly graphic experience.<br /><br /><div align="center">The setting of the Mabonga's village.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284401276013369346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpXF7MZgzFtZiHJAzDnVAZOv-yqGn9mPyixZVZmSsqPjBgvwycZU1oeGC7efhmwZXBaJ5b7h4OZWd8SL7ZeUPasuqEKrNEcd381G0nDR28eZ2CSMqM9Gm6tGRHbd0NxW88i709b4tve2r/s320/Brett+Pix+170.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">Mabonga (right with the plastic sack) smearing his nephew with yeast.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284399744423925234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2o0jKmRQfXo-I2TMdmg_AExqnvVcWk7Fu56NjjS1TimOR-FcVfrEwRpvGV2mm-tHopdPoJu3_klFVwiEh8-k3-40DjRGkL0RTa5DiOu8fCoCeBTjM1xXCDZdx9JASf5HVKnxmxBXh_xcL/s320/Brett+Pix+164.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center">The three initiates.</div><div align="center"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVBFjoO3DVXjKORqwgmDFi9gBlEtzgL96ylPV_QseUbNiIvpCIFncVks9CYX7zsD08OH4lDp4OdfbG3X6H2Vpta2nK7jI-bcGwgDCdC40kiad-4O8rHPUc7wdWyfvEcOvgmUs9AbjFvMK/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286241454994844978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVBFjoO3DVXjKORqwgmDFi9gBlEtzgL96ylPV_QseUbNiIvpCIFncVks9CYX7zsD08OH4lDp4OdfbG3X6H2Vpta2nK7jI-bcGwgDCdC40kiad-4O8rHPUc7wdWyfvEcOvgmUs9AbjFvMK/s320/Brett+Pix+013.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284399723366649762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGF3oMSeDBaBcKOELU22AiOLgPfm6ZbTuPwTYoU53eXFt0epDzNBtHoRrtneg6UY-Jk4-31tBYoULhCsIeXbuyfokfjpPh7x3Wv9lB3l7Qd91lsVGl17mAsj_95O002sp9JFvkFZBZPhD5/s320/Brett+Pix+151.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284399752716091682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7BzuWzHtjxeBXfHl6bdoD4xweVjTHrA7b06BYSwzmbljeYcYFrH48B6KQcK54P5FtCRfjkf4_dQQVeyjHGXrqoEyp93nho6bK8nbGmd0_Q_mw-oGHrzfjShxyeD7lpkXGkALpBAP7jxO/s320/Brett+Pix+169.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Now, you may be wondering what all the spectators do throughout the three days of this ceremony. Mainly they sit around drinking malwa, a locally brewed beer. Malwa is made from maize or millet and it's pretty chunky, and tastes a bit like I imagine dirty socks would. But it's a very social activity--everyone sits around the pot or bucket of alcohol and passes drinking straws around--and it's what I did from most of the two days I was at the ceremony. Of course I got pretty horrible uh, ...stomach issues, afterwards. But it was totally worth it.</div><div></div><div></div><div align="center">Me drinking malwa with Mabonga and a neighbor.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284399725705827634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RbPMzb-aL1EVDNRSFKwpi-V475lmm-Q9Y99APQQw_7-DloQF0iopBsVT2KREfub-nj_8W8-GUIaJyQo1iScmz62eGjz8ug48eqW9WtQw03MUucNiVX6fuIoeMzgFl_rl7_g3ucFhQpyU/s320/Brett+Pix+156.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">Malwa!<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoR9J50w2j4CYlba5EQGi_HSU-ZtJxFPbpjNKSDeMdpjSuoezVLYc6E-_F17LJ_l2zCfB4XYSsAjKFQxZaX6IMO0Ny885T9QoM2TqpbUPrpYLTYl9rSKSBlqS9lXjSBmUiOkwRfdvxI1U2/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+159.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284399735022323618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoR9J50w2j4CYlba5EQGi_HSU-ZtJxFPbpjNKSDeMdpjSuoezVLYc6E-_F17LJ_l2zCfB4XYSsAjKFQxZaX6IMO0Ny885T9QoM2TqpbUPrpYLTYl9rSKSBlqS9lXjSBmUiOkwRfdvxI1U2/s320/Brett+Pix+159.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div><div></div></div></div></div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-90777741734884629352008-12-27T11:37:00.008+03:002008-12-31T11:28:38.895+03:00Lovely LamuThe second week of December I took an amazing little vacation to Kenya. The goal: Lamu, a beautiful Swahili island about 7 hours (by bus) North of Mombasa. Gorgeous and amazing.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284409103399703074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHv182vjqm1B_ypFGczurn8bJ-9jXeokvjCBKfHph3jNpcWbL8EFa9ht1jIl9DSGj4xXue4hyphenhyphenaoccutHvTQmDSAKOYZonPkDWr6oI3DHS0dxtzYymHptsDhD670jo-4HGc_VkxtaR2Stib/s320/Brett+Pix+076.jpg" border="0" /><br />Yes, the water actually is this color. And it's warm! And yes, it is December!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVyOZLNENcj35LEjB2kEkaVHKXjfhqJL8eShwhYFbAUVNITtP-LYx6nCkFhrGUEwns9hIvI26dj2b3EqkGJb_DzKyntPcFk3up6Lw2SSNVU9oLyAS2ZxGx3eyu_7FrFxOnxo4xKZiH-Qy/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+122.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284394422093936514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVyOZLNENcj35LEjB2kEkaVHKXjfhqJL8eShwhYFbAUVNITtP-LYx6nCkFhrGUEwns9hIvI26dj2b3EqkGJb_DzKyntPcFk3up6Lw2SSNVU9oLyAS2ZxGx3eyu_7FrFxOnxo4xKZiH-Qy/s320/Brett+Pix+122.jpg" border="0" /></a> On Lamu donkeys are the main mode of transport and transporting goods around the island.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24eSBImjtCcLQyfeutklSEqkpO5wI2USABVK7i2rO-Hov2zn6WHuEV6pX0P8b__sgil1OLJBv1wswtxleYru9ZAEkNybKmsfkARgkPjnPcPRAXlY01W7MKjuXTCN7HwDI-E0QtcK3f5iL/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+117.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284394415182893266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24eSBImjtCcLQyfeutklSEqkpO5wI2USABVK7i2rO-Hov2zn6WHuEV6pX0P8b__sgil1OLJBv1wswtxleYru9ZAEkNybKmsfkARgkPjnPcPRAXlY01W7MKjuXTCN7HwDI-E0QtcK3f5iL/s320/Brett+Pix+117.jpg" border="0" /></a> A bunch of the noble beasts eating a huge trash heap.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA-4F9GXYMB3Xr7TMP94dsw2yp-QmhdROLE9U89FkvJePG6UaznTY5gSZnCixFXfBe0eRcYNd5F3jQBMV8jThgVh7fHxVYLdPaeSxFRya9hOuhI_Z3FTqn2CgL5f3GiQRDlZrh0_h6UBM/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+112.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284394405861131762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA-4F9GXYMB3Xr7TMP94dsw2yp-QmhdROLE9U89FkvJePG6UaznTY5gSZnCixFXfBe0eRcYNd5F3jQBMV8jThgVh7fHxVYLdPaeSxFRya9hOuhI_Z3FTqn2CgL5f3GiQRDlZrh0_h6UBM/s320/Brett+Pix+112.jpg" border="0" /></a> Old architecture, old man, pink flowers.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj997gXXm61kNlwEUgNs_aN533qFFZwLnG1tQl0XcP5LBK7iLPsP6lLJluqvvv94Z8MYt7_QPyPWT45alURdEI-aYBnyZvFQYjbVHXhhtehq00yvvXxYsD65NkHQKGWiFJKGTSDXxmsCvsv/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+109.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284394397039852226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj997gXXm61kNlwEUgNs_aN533qFFZwLnG1tQl0XcP5LBK7iLPsP6lLJluqvvv94Z8MYt7_QPyPWT45alURdEI-aYBnyZvFQYjbVHXhhtehq00yvvXxYsD65NkHQKGWiFJKGTSDXxmsCvsv/s320/Brett+Pix+109.jpg" border="0" /></a> Lamu is known for its intricately carved door frames such as this one.<br /></div><div> </div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3Q100mAeAnoMKtuqdPTr4zUng7iPQepyD2NnpoMfLoE1H8_7Iy1pN4Vd1AY16B7hUhJc5jKVNo9GRfQo63xEVDaQD7-rV-eSq20xySapKLACMu6EWdduii6sdCyauiZQv4ax6N-HNWy4/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+108.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284388691670517074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3Q100mAeAnoMKtuqdPTr4zUng7iPQepyD2NnpoMfLoE1H8_7Iy1pN4Vd1AY16B7hUhJc5jKVNo9GRfQo63xEVDaQD7-rV-eSq20xySapKLACMu6EWdduii6sdCyauiZQv4ax6N-HNWy4/s320/Brett+Pix+108.jpg" border="0" /></a> Man making coconut jewelry, with donkeys who kept trying to eat the coconuts.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40nimmYwYidT2RTSACosECMnyiXe3gWE_7N-WnOW4bklUWEKldpuhEE4u5eliPgvtL7uU3i0-zxMFOUiJOtLg1YVaJasckuXB8eXtmIVKZycGE2litCkoZri8iSVVKnDkAQI3kVayLEyn/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+097.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284388681092535122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40nimmYwYidT2RTSACosECMnyiXe3gWE_7N-WnOW4bklUWEKldpuhEE4u5eliPgvtL7uU3i0-zxMFOUiJOtLg1YVaJasckuXB8eXtmIVKZycGE2litCkoZri8iSVVKnDkAQI3kVayLEyn/s320/Brett+Pix+097.jpg" border="0" /></a> The market.<br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1wp45cG1eNo0Rb9n2gYSj9TVxol2LdKsowq3nilR5lSz74kNg57ACUZnuMyElbXO7l4Td23JXbRIGoeEOfK3ZlphXhseFXatX0fhgkIRMhCaRnufvVlP861Dj1LiINkoMj55y5A5Xt74/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+066.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284388668257407442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1wp45cG1eNo0Rb9n2gYSj9TVxol2LdKsowq3nilR5lSz74kNg57ACUZnuMyElbXO7l4Td23JXbRIGoeEOfK3ZlphXhseFXatX0fhgkIRMhCaRnufvVlP861Dj1LiINkoMj55y5A5Xt74/s320/Brett+Pix+066.jpg" border="0" /></a> A dhow.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSv_w6LpPTThKLnOdof42d1Pmsr6jrBt4PwQrvovtd9Cw96Z16T9-38eLotIVsBLoEsRsYVQxJ4Lp3F7getIm5lr47sLxc-b44E4hiFB6AiODG2-2okS5ZgaXESk7v2jT4RacDOTDBq4_/s1600-h/Brett+Pix+058.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284388660312993714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSv_w6LpPTThKLnOdof42d1Pmsr6jrBt4PwQrvovtd9Cw96Z16T9-38eLotIVsBLoEsRsYVQxJ4Lp3F7getIm5lr47sLxc-b44E4hiFB6AiODG2-2okS5ZgaXESk7v2jT4RacDOTDBq4_/s320/Brett+Pix+058.jpg" border="0" /></a>Ryan and I on a dhow that took us sailing, fishing, and snorkling. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-47537339510959546552008-12-27T10:51:00.006+03:002008-12-31T11:27:05.182+03:00It's the people that make the placeAs my time here in Uganda begins to draw to a close (I'm coming home in May!!!) I have been thinking about what has really impacted me about this experience. You know, reflecting and all that emotional insight stuff. I have realized that the most rewarding thing for me is just having connected with different Ugandans. I don't want to be negative, but I do want to be honest, so I must say that work can be frustrating: I feel like I'm not really making an impact or that I am not doing enough when it seems there is so much that needs to be done. But despite that frustration, my friendships and the cultural exchange associated with them is what really has made everything worthwhile.<br /><br />The person I feel closest to in Uganda is my counterpart, the Ugandan I work with, Lukman Kirya. He is a great great guy with an adorable, welcoming, and friendly family. My connections with Lukman and his family are the center point of my joy at being here in Uganda. Their acceptance of me and desire to include me in their lives is what has made this last year and a half such an amazing experience!!!<br /><br /><b>A few highlights of my inclusion in Lukman's Family:</b><br /><ul><li>Having a volleyball competition with a few other PCVs, Lukman, his wife Josephine, and his cousin Bruhan. Lukman and Josephine both killed at volleyball! It was great seeing them joke and compete with each other, as a lot of Ugandan couples maintain a very formal and gender divided front. </li><li>Lukman and Josephine eating thanksgiving dinner with me last year. They loved the American food!!! Josephine was super super pregnant with their third child at the time--I thought she might pop!</li><li>Being a bride's maid in Esther's (Lukman's cousin) wedding. I had to wear an awesome 90's-prom-style dress, complete with sparkly rhinestones and a full bottle of hairspray in my hair. Esther, her husband, and their three beautiful children are wonderful, welcoming people, and my friendship with them is now forever immortalized in the wedding picture I am in that is hanging on their living room wall!</li><li>Janat Gimbo (Lukman's sister) picking my mom up from the airport in the middle of the night when she visited. She also escorted us back to the airport after my mom's visit!!!</li><li>Lukman's mom weaving my mom a grass mat as a gift.</li><li>Spending the night at Beatrice Kiwalabye's (Lukman's aunt) house after attending a raging Ugandan party she was throwing</li></ul><p>Most recently, I have been involved in two important family functions with Lukman and his family. First, Lukman and his wife Josephine had their Introduction Ceremony, which is when the bride's family meets the groom's family and dowry is negotiated and paid. For this ceremony we had to travel to Kenya, as Josephine is Kenyan and her family still lives there. We started planning the ceremony in September, having weekly or bi-weekly family meetings to discuss the budget, raise money for the dowry, and generally organize everything. Then, on December 6th, we travelled with 50 of Lukman's friends, family, and colleagues to Eldoret, Kenya to "buy" his wife! Below is Lukman's brother (left), Lukman (center), and I (self explanatory) after the Introduction Ceremony. For formal wear that Ugandan men wear is a long dress called a kanzu with a coat over top, while women were the silly dress with big shoulders and huge sash that I have on, which is called a gomez. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284385250369816418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5t20Dd8bs3AtpNJ7_VVycb_voUIPrvVc2O5NWUiXA7gp3_t_U8SLS_8qiMM5iJEgzym7aaKBXrviXXVzdzoSUhPV7zr7nyOCoYOTURXTvT1sLh2SDbcZtf5mXTTYs8OSE1jK0yiXFUFbV/s320/Brett+Pix+036.jpg" border="0" /><br />Here is me before the ceremony preparing to carry part of the dowry in on my head, as is traditional for women to do.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284385249336731042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWV-Y-2c300gmMqx_-q7nxqGU53w0KWtx7YoMHdeKvohZzp3EDBRM6cIC-mvz1FIhw_swB32bcpy5yUzCxupSrX8I7oOBGv1BXcOuacWiHv3tqymojTOKdpRQmlYCmxuYh5Pxe0NulSGd/s320/Brett+Pix+024.jpg" border="0" /><br />The second family function that I attended recently was a funeral rites ceremony (kind of like a memorial ceremony) for Lukman's deceased grandfather and aunts. For this ceremony we travelled to the Eastern area of Uganda, to the Bugisu region where Lukman's mother is from. I travelled to the village on my own, Lukman having gone a day early. He said that when he arrived the first question he got from everyone was "Where is Nakayiwa (my Ugandan name)?!" Being so far from home and the comforts of friends and family it is hard to express how touched I am to have been fully embraced by this family to the extent that it is just assumed I will be with them at any important event. At this ceremony the family also gave me a name from the Bugisu tribe, as Nakayiwa is from the Buganda tribe. So I am now Nakayiwa Wabule Brett! They make a big deal out of names here as each belongs to a tribe, but also within that tribe to a specific clan--i actually met the head of the Wabule clan while I was at the ceremony! He was very excited to have a muzungu clan member! Below (left to right) is Lukman, a cousin, aunt Beatrice, and wife Josephine.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284385265035096866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLwmyWmxw0ZCbR3G51uDb5ddtTJoPQkioNaMvdPffd7YclVXFO7bpyp6ax-sakGKEahlTCL44XYpcRb3e-4pOlEprJM7TVADcEtg6zEsIEkpXMaGbe5cnWtiu4q29eu6SAXrzI67TnQ-_/s320/Brett+Pix+127.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>After the formal part of the ceremony, the gathering turned into a big party to drink locally brewed alcohol, called malwa. You drink it through a long straw with a sieve on the end, because it is chunky with the millet it is brewed using. People will sit ALL day drinking it, hence the gargantuan bucket.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284385273632535842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAY8OAGBxyDXnS7gJJfKj-RZEWOwgwysh3Glla4OB3cq2VhiRnm5jyuTCOZjXcLshC58d3m-4erUz3GPeP_i8ww7FKtVZIW-cam3L9CYZmPdlraxcUySqZHFEqupEVR76zprJoveKKFvvk/s320/Brett+Pix+135.jpg" border="0" /><br />Aside from my relationship with Lukman's family, I also enjoy socially interacting with a few of the teachers I work with. I went to the market at the same time as one teacher the other day and she was so excited that she held my hand the whole time and was just so proud to be with me. I had a birthday party and seven or eight the teachers came and had a great time. I made them sish-kebabs, which they had never tasted before and they really enjoyed. One teacher proclaimed that he was changing the name from sish-kebab to delish-kebab! So many people in the community I live in are also wonderfully friendly and warm. There's a little old man who lives in my village who only speaks to me in Luganda. I only understand like 10% (tops!) of what he's saying, but he gives me things from his garden and wants me to teach him how to bake corn bread. And he always tells me in Luganda when I get confused, "Ojakuyiga, mpola mpola"-- "You will learn, slowly, slowly."<br /><div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-80634207200989611512008-08-02T14:14:00.008+03:002008-08-02T14:53:42.017+03:00Katogo<div align="center">In luganda "katogo" is a slang term meaning a mixture. Photo katogo...</div><br /><div align="center">Mumus!</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nKlJ0JxeKtyrzHn2OFLjpneJW9K8J8NGSpItJT2YSoYWVCm4-RovGAvrfiCxx-mvan1slg-duxi057VHWY6Dk_SrIHQewpSfJLeKuYFyI_cABXYp2BaHBi1dvZOeSDjoAor-3JgqcW1E/s1600-h/Brett+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229886578699505282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nKlJ0JxeKtyrzHn2OFLjpneJW9K8J8NGSpItJT2YSoYWVCm4-RovGAvrfiCxx-mvan1slg-duxi057VHWY6Dk_SrIHQewpSfJLeKuYFyI_cABXYp2BaHBi1dvZOeSDjoAor-3JgqcW1E/s320/Brett+006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Food given to me by the 1st grade class as a 'thank you' for reading to them<br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBBoYT1uY1ShzQ-8UApL-QW8-sF2gUbRwg1LW6xSSR__GCQvFqFE-VS6ip7FO9D-pYlCZ9cjvSbG_-11NzQwhQ5iusZrkQvAbv4HaU3xObzvsFI2hTiAHntHr4yCSBK2lJeDJWVH8nv9xa/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229884167118022514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBBoYT1uY1ShzQ-8UApL-QW8-sF2gUbRwg1LW6xSSR__GCQvFqFE-VS6ip7FO9D-pYlCZ9cjvSbG_-11NzQwhQ5iusZrkQvAbv4HaU3xObzvsFI2hTiAHntHr4yCSBK2lJeDJWVH8nv9xa/s320/Brett's+pics+194.jpg" border="0" /></a> Curious children<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2w2HjXW9TLA2KApEvPXnX3frBRw2oS9Lv72vYNzZBKv5dwf8R54VIUE1f2SJgwryIXZe2YJTaojhY_vssUA8-MLBkTbNcOKR1fKYRSdfc0d2OcaSwm5D6fcC5JwGXBcbfpfqsEidmZW42/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229884168485452674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2w2HjXW9TLA2KApEvPXnX3frBRw2oS9Lv72vYNzZBKv5dwf8R54VIUE1f2SJgwryIXZe2YJTaojhY_vssUA8-MLBkTbNcOKR1fKYRSdfc0d2OcaSwm5D6fcC5JwGXBcbfpfqsEidmZW42/s320/Brett's+pics+203.jpg" border="0" /></a> My friend Sylvia and her daughter<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc0jLwF5nj7UQS_w7UyX4LBWO4juE1lDOWpxxLs1uaYZSdOK9awWgQcWKmuHZoMd_SJ4mh-lucv4AXokud4xatTageSMGf1Wx9MuV82deURrG1caIkegFhNpO9QvcBeQJvHFtEqvjLICvQ/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229884175278392322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc0jLwF5nj7UQS_w7UyX4LBWO4juE1lDOWpxxLs1uaYZSdOK9awWgQcWKmuHZoMd_SJ4mh-lucv4AXokud4xatTageSMGf1Wx9MuV82deURrG1caIkegFhNpO9QvcBeQJvHFtEqvjLICvQ/s320/Brett's+pics+205.jpg" border="0" /></a> Easter dinner at Sylvia's<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229884177482436450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQrb7l9HS08hNsCLiWombIZ8gi49dFEbyinGvp6Uwuro8vpePzNB7yhFLampDoLskBjeb1ZN4-OTrGxykk5QdY3naNUpKWuh1Xs4i3HWd4FyN4AC7pAp79aB1AJ7lefREUn3I6wrThwe-/s320/Brett's+pics+207.jpg" border="0" />Amy and I at Murchison Falls<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5O0je2UYoDsbWjlGyDFl2IqUm1km3_ISQD_VQsUpxSGVqTSt8o46Ok_Tc15vLuTRaPONqtXe_I3Icgu1cHfmOV6EcfrBYeZ-Tix8lOh-IojmwTANk6owfBVE3GKNbRBqMbO7AuwQcuYPk/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229882938446845650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5O0je2UYoDsbWjlGyDFl2IqUm1km3_ISQD_VQsUpxSGVqTSt8o46Ok_Tc15vLuTRaPONqtXe_I3Icgu1cHfmOV6EcfrBYeZ-Tix8lOh-IojmwTANk6owfBVE3GKNbRBqMbO7AuwQcuYPk/s320/Brett's+pics+138.jpg" border="0" /></a> My neighbors in our yard<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLqFAoWYMynuC8FHmNIPV3GTPZDJAHTPhs2dVO3EaFGBH3tzfpoYEEgG1DWJyNLgj88wzm9PWhMQTsoNpSEO6UCT9Lp_UsrcbqKblEHBd-rjhKJI7o9wavp4xieV3UeI9ZsNKnUJ_6KA34/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229882938242239554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLqFAoWYMynuC8FHmNIPV3GTPZDJAHTPhs2dVO3EaFGBH3tzfpoYEEgG1DWJyNLgj88wzm9PWhMQTsoNpSEO6UCT9Lp_UsrcbqKblEHBd-rjhKJI7o9wavp4xieV3UeI9ZsNKnUJ_6KA34/s320/Brett's+pics+180.jpg" border="0" /></a> My neighbor cooking dinner<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tp-gIg1lr2zxZ7tcWfwMc655ixFocYI3FebVlAh2NvgeXnOS7fHS9eOKtVhpJVG0ncPTaAjyRY5fx9PX0uyZANyeY-UHUemVKl4gC6b-6dkYv2Jlyynvmvjqs5U1SVGNU5t6z1TIYw_3/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229882942901876930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tp-gIg1lr2zxZ7tcWfwMc655ixFocYI3FebVlAh2NvgeXnOS7fHS9eOKtVhpJVG0ncPTaAjyRY5fx9PX0uyZANyeY-UHUemVKl4gC6b-6dkYv2Jlyynvmvjqs5U1SVGNU5t6z1TIYw_3/s320/Brett's+pics+181.jpg" border="0" /></a> Vet spaying my cat on my living room floor (scary!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAG7cOknqP9TSGmF-pwDLag7WwwnDj3RzJFKNRmwsufZ3AJSPKpx7wV7GaKoHBQFoHr4LPSCZ5xa5w544FlYkc2aIlmI5jStTyCNIwPCxJ-rGljHacpk2JdaaaSEtZhhQdnTtQcSExIVez/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229882946324125394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAG7cOknqP9TSGmF-pwDLag7WwwnDj3RzJFKNRmwsufZ3AJSPKpx7wV7GaKoHBQFoHr4LPSCZ5xa5w544FlYkc2aIlmI5jStTyCNIwPCxJ-rGljHacpk2JdaaaSEtZhhQdnTtQcSExIVez/s320/Brett's+pics+184.jpg" border="0" /></a> Empty classroom<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYN6ujeWssJbdR9T2qyh_08PTiyDH4Ro87_kEeWtFcJYepQL0AM3jZv_-epalynQSawOrp3nTIZY_5BqDvwuNFvF6H-obupUuXb29rlcWC_lBpcft75uCLShWy4VS5_ScpTxKBoxkuRmC/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229882948548707058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYN6ujeWssJbdR9T2qyh_08PTiyDH4Ro87_kEeWtFcJYepQL0AM3jZv_-epalynQSawOrp3nTIZY_5BqDvwuNFvF6H-obupUuXb29rlcWC_lBpcft75uCLShWy4VS5_ScpTxKBoxkuRmC/s320/Brett's+pics+193.jpg" border="0" /></a>Handing out school attendance awards<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3N_D3YM5AKbFWBehn22w1BkW_yP-YBKujh-kB245KS_lnhMsuol7GDTQpdiM59I1FfMXX4BAzDSIEOhZT6IY3fiM1NWIlAwpfCQFPHSm2IckMAnZsr7mHM9ehcBgVmxX1uAV_hqkFanzh/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229880975825456978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3N_D3YM5AKbFWBehn22w1BkW_yP-YBKujh-kB245KS_lnhMsuol7GDTQpdiM59I1FfMXX4BAzDSIEOhZT6IY3fiM1NWIlAwpfCQFPHSm2IckMAnZsr7mHM9ehcBgVmxX1uAV_hqkFanzh/s320/Brett's+pics+013.jpg" border="0" /></a> Head teacher addressing the students<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij733OotB9IViRybYqUZsjfeAaCACxWOnBEFxU08A36qgj3mZyXUKorOYK0eDYrmVUDNu09hBrtDeVNAWgQXLoHuRej7sRf-ckEZsyLH0zsMzvFJMAvTiqyg_rAJlQHvPG6GKvL0aObjcN/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229880985591208754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij733OotB9IViRybYqUZsjfeAaCACxWOnBEFxU08A36qgj3mZyXUKorOYK0eDYrmVUDNu09hBrtDeVNAWgQXLoHuRej7sRf-ckEZsyLH0zsMzvFJMAvTiqyg_rAJlQHvPG6GKvL0aObjcN/s320/Brett's+pics+031.jpg" border="0" /></a> Children practising traditional instrumental music<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYB7S6pgVlvL0oQIxRQHbFsYzhIcvBwA_iQPvlgY3VTeAy9XyjgpwUIWsh0fbegsw2AiEF-dKXGUkvdxAIBClY5xd_zNze4lf3tZQ-vYLzssYaF06uOKCQEWRWj5JzcWkGXh5cn796hREZ/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229880997110733698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYB7S6pgVlvL0oQIxRQHbFsYzhIcvBwA_iQPvlgY3VTeAy9XyjgpwUIWsh0fbegsw2AiEF-dKXGUkvdxAIBClY5xd_zNze4lf3tZQ-vYLzssYaF06uOKCQEWRWj5JzcWkGXh5cn796hREZ/s320/Brett's+pics+161.jpg" border="0" /></a> School dance competition<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4TenzAtl68kgxvw3DrNffOreEnoWotxv6Yxo7ZlfmsvaqvQEVuOtBnQnIBvvnhGcA9hzKzivnJcOAvbLsimk_PtYRldN6Cfp5TRCvmquBI_ox3dEHPTUN0PlZPfCtaa6pGeXUVtaG1yUL/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229881000840172226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4TenzAtl68kgxvw3DrNffOreEnoWotxv6Yxo7ZlfmsvaqvQEVuOtBnQnIBvvnhGcA9hzKzivnJcOAvbLsimk_PtYRldN6Cfp5TRCvmquBI_ox3dEHPTUN0PlZPfCtaa6pGeXUVtaG1yUL/s320/Brett's+pics+172.jpg" border="0" /></a> More dancing<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMLfQNPHH5rpVOUllSi508V_Mhn-TdKOp4sb-YAmt81qiXkKVsucICQLO9205k1skNvy5zoGuDFWlSoptopDIwdGbfDahtNM5eWQypKqFTMIgxXaWDbHBg3lDtJN46LHvMNzN_-n29oQl/s1600-h/Brett"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229881002370347154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMLfQNPHH5rpVOUllSi508V_Mhn-TdKOp4sb-YAmt81qiXkKVsucICQLO9205k1skNvy5zoGuDFWlSoptopDIwdGbfDahtNM5eWQypKqFTMIgxXaWDbHBg3lDtJN46LHvMNzN_-n29oQl/s320/Brett's+pics+173.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div><br /></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-27106163749652920892008-08-02T12:52:00.007+03:002008-08-02T14:14:53.545+03:00Workin' itI've realized that a lot of the information I communicate about my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">experience</span> here has to do with culture, climate, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">friends</span>. All of which are very important. I realize, however, that I haven't really said a whole lot about my work. There is a reason for this: I have found it very difficult, and at times frustrating, to work in Uganda. I really really want to work, to feel useful and helpful, and sometimes that is just impossible. Africa moves at a different pace. A more relaxed pace, to say the least. So some days, many days, I spend my time reading, cooking, talking to neighbors, etc. I also sometimes doubt the effectiveness of the work I am doing--there are no instant results and it is hard to judge long term success/failure. Those <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">frustrations</span> voiced, I am in fact working!! And some of the work has been really good.<br /><br /><br />For one, I try to encourage schools to teach their kids life skills, those essential things such as self-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">esteem</span>, assertiveness, and problem solving. I helped two schools to create life skills clubs. About 60 kids at each school meet once a week after classes to play games, do art projects, and talk with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">each other</span> in a way intended to develop their life skills. I have found that it is difficult for the teachers to do these kinds of activities with the children. Ugandan teachers feel most comfortable teaching facts, lecturing, and testing children to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">gauge</span> their "knowledge." But there are no right answers when you are talking about peer <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pressure</span>, and the children only benefit if they are active participants, rather than passive listeners. So, it is a major change in style for the teachers. And it is extra work for them, which means there are some motivation problems. The club is no longer functioning at one of the schools. The teacher I was working with at that school failed to lead the club or even attend, meaning I was leading it every week without him. I had to make a decision: Do I keep leading the club, because the kids like it and might benefit? Or do I stop the club, because by continuing to lead it I am sending a message to Ugandan teachers that others will do their work for them? I stopped leading the club, which I think is a good choice in the long run, though maybe not so good in the short.<br /><br /><p>Here are kids in the life skills club playing a team-building game with their teacher.</p><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229866519750960434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniIQ7HcRtmM_X6tRWht0xeIS-V8MmT7ViR7hcCNZQMVtVUFJb4w44Z8jAUzaN7KhgGH7MzvMc_Lm_RCeQmOzf4WFZgZH59uOjaXX7qTr3T1V1Mp46g7yLZMkvnGrzpZC0KDpM7k8seQ2D/s320/Brett's+pics+034.jpg" border="0" />Here the children are drawing rainbows that tell about the things they like to do, their families, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">their</span> values.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229869882297687826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7c1X7h-cGsW9Lqs8szlxXM41_WDQXmUJ1lAmxx9z57fes60MM6vrjJlX3gpb8zxSSlBMbhPks-Zpj4QyFFDLwsu4Px15o5xNhFJHervavG7lhcfUyaDECQ3_PknWnEBN44U8XCAynEBf/s320/Brett's+pics+195.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229869891077405506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtdTSkRtnE33etumcZfJmLKpHMQmEPvKCHDZ7jk4MycTL0wJ25AfrFXrHX54geUUJTS6POoEo3zyLs8z6rnDUOupTekp4t2iRAAgdJnAdOWXJ6k5R5zCivAEwzfe1yoZ_yK-WOECrkzun/s320/Brett's+pics+199.jpg" border="0" /></p>Another focus of my work has been a literacy project. With help from you all at home (amazing, wonderful, touching, inspiring help from home!) I have been able to introduce children's story books to teachers at two schools. Friends and family have donated over 300 books to this project, so in the coming term I will be able to include another school as well. Right now, the books are being used by seven teachers in six classrooms. And the kids love it!!!! Most of them have never read a story book before. For now, the teachers are using a method called free reading. This method, very familiar to most of us in America, but new and challenging here, allows each child to chose a book they are interested in and read it. Simple, right? Wrong. The teachers are not used to giving children independence and freedom in their learning, and the children are not used to having it. So it takes some practice. Next term I'll help the teachers to begin using the books in other ways as well. I hope to take some pictures of the children reading soon, so keep an eye out for them.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-64176130495664210872008-03-04T10:54:00.002+03:002008-03-04T11:00:01.513+03:00New addressFrom here on out I am going to be using a new mailing address. Don't worry if you just sent something to the old address, I will still be able to get it. But from now on please send any mail for me to:<br /><br />Brett Snyder<br />P.O. Box 5835<br />Kampala, Uganda<br /><br />Thanks to everyone who has sent letters or packages--I get so excited when I hear from you!Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-79979827411857914002008-02-26T15:54:00.009+03:002008-02-26T17:23:59.446+03:00I'm soooooo National Geographic<div><div><div><div><div>Mommy came to visit!!!! It was great, great, great! Ugandan culture is very welcoming and hospitable so all of the friends and colleagues I've made here were absolutely ecstatic to meet her (and greet her, they LOOOOVE to greet in Uganda). Check out some of the fun experiences she had in my home sweet home Naddangira, Uganda.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlpkl7EN_zxw0TiUFGLBWVpJNTkoKqunzPxGBI_hB-k39siLmKyzrUYNiqkxV36rMW_hrsYIOWV8LmBg9CsWjdOBiE055CcoImFnnboyAVGraG4qjvWhRyCtwzzC_eImwN3TD5WhttT7Q/s1600-h/IMG_0166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171273991520523810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlpkl7EN_zxw0TiUFGLBWVpJNTkoKqunzPxGBI_hB-k39siLmKyzrUYNiqkxV36rMW_hrsYIOWV8LmBg9CsWjdOBiE055CcoImFnnboyAVGraG4qjvWhRyCtwzzC_eImwN3TD5WhttT7Q/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" border="0" /></a> Upon arrival she was given a chicken by my neighbor as a welcoming gift.</div><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFFBt9j4Ixod2dYdEMh-qz4NumoiCuj8HzMB4doF8OK2xpJLwiobIcJFtIThpmdi9dnj9ITawi9j_bUN4-ImUClqdBtnn_NwK7JviUA9ztaL-oG9o9tMsoPFPVbJWtQUumlL8sRf8mjSa/s1600-h/IMG_0449.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171274004405425714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFFBt9j4Ixod2dYdEMh-qz4NumoiCuj8HzMB4doF8OK2xpJLwiobIcJFtIThpmdi9dnj9ITawi9j_bUN4-ImUClqdBtnn_NwK7JviUA9ztaL-oG9o9tMsoPFPVbJWtQUumlL8sRf8mjSa/s320/IMG_0449.JPG" border="0" /></a> Then, of course, we ate it. But we had to catch it first, and I'll be damned if those things aren't fast! But as you can see, we prevailed in the end--with a little help from some local children and my neighbor Daisy (pictured above).</p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZP9wuhOI2VayyKBMdLK9Pel1TJzZR6TABG4llBkzKKSKHVs7shPvbc1Pjb6UBSAfgry4apnsjVbNeYaaTvKkOzEsRBBYWLZPNQawHmOYVoN4GgNNA6vYBMO8-FOAFsBOfH8umQeu1S4gN/s1600-h/IMG_0440.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171274008700393026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZP9wuhOI2VayyKBMdLK9Pel1TJzZR6TABG4llBkzKKSKHVs7shPvbc1Pjb6UBSAfgry4apnsjVbNeYaaTvKkOzEsRBBYWLZPNQawHmOYVoN4GgNNA6vYBMO8-FOAFsBOfH8umQeu1S4gN/s320/IMG_0440.JPG" border="0" /></a> Mama Brett (as everyone here called her throughout her stay) also got to meet my counterpart, Lukman, and his son, Rahman.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPCW13lC6n8KLELJsQHCW_573ZzIGR4OiAwjwwdFYIeKP0qNk8mTYKo9yMV4JIxRZSKmZs4GamxrWk90ENkYIM3qVv4y72nyJk-ZR-mSAVAJPtSgQyOg9uwoqD8kHSBm-F46UQJXeV3D5/s1600-h/IMG_0446.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171274012995360338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPCW13lC6n8KLELJsQHCW_573ZzIGR4OiAwjwwdFYIeKP0qNk8mTYKo9yMV4JIxRZSKmZs4GamxrWk90ENkYIM3qVv4y72nyJk-ZR-mSAVAJPtSgQyOg9uwoqD8kHSBm-F46UQJXeV3D5/s320/IMG_0446.JPG" border="0" /></a> And she got to hold a million adorable babies, most of them not wearing any pants! </p><p><br />Aside from hanging around my place in Uganda we also went on a safari in Tanzania. AMAZING sights (Thanks Mom!!!). We went to Tarangire National Park, Ngorngoro Crater, and the Serengeti. It was very Ernest Hemingway. I'm also pretty sure National Geographic would hire me if they got the chance, just check out my vivid and action-packed nature photography skills.<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171277856991090290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_xuE9iymdC4KKS0xLoOToYjo3A5_1fg1Qgzy2mrO03oGXEUDs7XG_caykiu5pHLWUoHRDgtI682NsRusn-OD-p3iFFeibKkoIMj5hFTvk7u0lLQZhkY5_GZPkD8vy9JscnTFHmqlV0qF/s320/IMG_0205.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171277856991090306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_Ia5IpBQJD5XZG2DFUa2D6jxP8Lsg7DCCkt7yDcBeSw4Gqh5rBdqdB9_2yiHOBxXonNneR4jJQQ2f18yrRPMnBQiGVoAvM27JH90VI4TGZEOuBswdDZmhG4_o8SRsp4yxghXTGXC9qiz/s320/IMG_0213.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171277861286057618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGJ7R2rto7RLupZIPbjBmu4zKMOMGP6Ihne8oMFj9SFeFyQdllHPWclp6szDpUe_vyaqqu2tM2ECLECDTmwMoY35igmf8TDpgoTGhJoya4fYhFbxLxdVr5v1C4afltH4elBs_B6zEt2Rp/s320/IMG_0272.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171277865581024930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWy92QweUoMUdtz2UGmhJDB7DQYWLHoCcJE5jI17-FPePxs1G8B0odotQeV3vHQetrpe51z6d3PeEC9zE3X10__fuTXkk3RNEbwRo11lJV-PvJ5UIrSnu43YPujejzvAtu0ml70JIT-Lnf/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" border="0" /> </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171285643766798018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7OE6wEOgdJK1v0PagAMhI48WOuBWDo7buX9U8OQrqzgEze-hpHt9vSMCaNSmppx0WJVbj_6nBiwiJvSNRD5vTqBliNqL1LktMbXV4DXcMT6EjEX59nXS2fRewitSkFB4WmC11MhqNmhg/s320/IMG_0298.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171286451220649682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvZngAgBmbi5ets-3hNU8pSIQbG9isPGMzLAD_umypmFvhSkTHa7jjE8JcrExKNis1vJay2jo1fPNuiCxhKt6WXN7ACbDtD3ZQ1CIGcJ-bXyeO6j51hoH1yk6D_U8ry5U3bOb6FhNidMZ/s320/IMG_0304.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171286459810584290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgtAxPY9t_uEcR9SYaHChXJ8ZmBYR-auCkMrCKihA4SSCnh6yPaZNJNfWJFKjkO9yjojFlhrslDiKOUiuh5_npm4Uw6_57p65dl_waWMD8OL_Xs3LZ0egce5s3zS1nlXGirYddlHYJQjN/s320/IMG_0340.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171286459810584306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgTRXhIRJMim-LzGW-bAo0_Z_b5tLuVyAz6YU7X-KlabNA4Na93z3g1v4Td73ACxIGs480eaguDCGadsebDU2XhVcD4zzqrLc1oD4DYX81eLiBTcY9uTR765S5DA6auDMB2dKmt9_DG65/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171287473422866178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUxjX_vUf7s6fRCVEIwUYKr8xNl4aIMaWyPniQCQZBQB8kT5Zop1ypJ0Zmcho9M7LkDl8_vYZt9mdBSav70uOAaDkJJ7EEfTJgmOjr6IBzbMwVmSNXIIugw2ou6ZBlsV69Vpw6-6Nlk9hF/s320/IMG_0374.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171287477717833506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2vMtox0kgR9DP4FvsFtc_0wguU0qvFxNcAbmfMU9ZcXMa0f_HeFbeg3HstATKVynHhcr5b9VZxAMXbZRLX1pB0AFWA8Kg91Fs65-PBs1tl43CJnUuTkpI-KiXVitDFPIgZlQznHOHe9j/s320/IMG_0402.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171287473422866194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15HCqkLhG_Uv5CzXG3Rf63rmEcZxhmke6Tg9ed0QZMWGrZC2IaZiSm8krVMHrwW3G7FKnEOZSOdT0SuvqO7AOUmt6TKtgFrrrPKsO0zxLi0X96r9inMqR9rbMXhC7VbZfi300zLAG4baP/s320/IMG_0392.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171288560049592114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5fr5tO8S3oUJYOXaQEPOnkqJnHCQgEonukmNUaUwD9Uthtf0hCAYIA3HLT15g83X1LrCUN1gAh20O3HsmbFTZvMbyqnqpP8Tulo-lasK87G6hoN0BK7jDjkVAQ4KjJ8S3dO3MCiP-uoI/s320/IMG_0411.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171288564344559426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCZAtAxbX4jhLR9iFJHgCgkHj_GBkI2fVYu5CArsfnjCSDJ0D3_JRUrM3KbBTIbVcwaicoP5yDCPDgFR733FmAGVXDEsrRGa_lptmm92_Ty24yTlQwcF3cTFtTB7g17vM53wpSnC821ar/s320/IMG_0425.JPG" border="0" />But now vacation time is over and schools are back in session. This term I started after school life skills clubs at two of the primary schools I work with. Life skills are all those general abilities we need to lead happy and healthy lives, such as confidence, self-esteem, assertiveness, critical thinking, etc. Life skills can be built through games, art, discussion, role-playing, and a million other activities, so the kids should have some fun with it aside from it's learning benefits. I go once a week to each school and meet with about 60 or 70 kids. The age range varies, but I would say most of them are approximately 11-13 years old. The club is only in it's second week, so I cannot really report too much on it's success or challenges so far. Although, I can tell it will take a little time for the kids to understand the way I am teaching. Children here are used to being asked strictly factual questions. All questions asked in class have a distinct yes or no answer, rather than being based on opinion or personal experience. So when I ask children, "How do you think you'd feel if....." or "Can you remember a time when...." it is a complete paradigm shift! I have gotten very used to awkward silences following my questions (although part of that might be attributable to my accent and the fact that English is these kids' second language!). I'll keep at it though, because I think they will get used to it sooner or later, and I hope they will be in some way better for it.<br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-42006330353885394692008-02-26T11:36:00.009+03:002008-02-26T16:37:07.561+03:00What did you do this weekend?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibP96SZK4CseEnUSk88a5xlntGdoNnlxDL4d-4KCeLJVJ8jIuEsv7IeLAsjjZqPoUnEj3jUemJ8USLIiKFB03cU6S-Ms1wHurFKEdLwv5kG27lor9b_TxvqrH8fXwHbec6ynrQ_peX56FZ/s1600-h/IMG_0444.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171281292964927154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibP96SZK4CseEnUSk88a5xlntGdoNnlxDL4d-4KCeLJVJ8jIuEsv7IeLAsjjZqPoUnEj3jUemJ8USLIiKFB03cU6S-Ms1wHurFKEdLwv5kG27lor9b_TxvqrH8fXwHbec6ynrQ_peX56FZ/s320/IMG_0444.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROcyzgoCZqKz4dGmhONaUNllSB3gES30lgAnQfkt0hB64XvqaWUb6IZYrsxntGF4FToxaEWTu-1_kwY2PL-pXWC0jRiFyFlHhRfmqA-7WZ796YV6C5tVEOc10Ppe2vyq1nae8k0yphO3u/s1600-h/IMG_0440.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOxJrdVoyn40xe6E9Uk3aFVNSXOtMrZ2z_3DIXzv1ZFtfv2H4_-O-fwZD1jr7EVVwnIsKb76NeJM7-25ZAH0ZqdtPr6HnLcWKi57qzUubMbPpj-z1I2bj96BczL6knWpUWuzSt2wO1leU/s1600-h/IMG_0062.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171237664687134178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOxJrdVoyn40xe6E9Uk3aFVNSXOtMrZ2z_3DIXzv1ZFtfv2H4_-O-fwZD1jr7EVVwnIsKb76NeJM7-25ZAH0ZqdtPr6HnLcWKi57qzUubMbPpj-z1I2bj96BczL6knWpUWuzSt2wO1leU/s320/IMG_0062.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCW8q9sh0yv_qXsMCX8RpI6tF8n9jOUz8Iab_KCvnekIHQpB_FMy5sqCFmr7FujnLy_mA7wy8D3tvzcSKrcQOEl4Vnx9tkFskPMoTv1hlQgXR1ZgW2TDPrd6ttKcCVpQ4LdmVSJMcamre7/s1600-h/IMG_0088.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171237668982101490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCW8q9sh0yv_qXsMCX8RpI6tF8n9jOUz8Iab_KCvnekIHQpB_FMy5sqCFmr7FujnLy_mA7wy8D3tvzcSKrcQOEl4Vnx9tkFskPMoTv1hlQgXR1ZgW2TDPrd6ttKcCVpQ4LdmVSJMcamre7/s320/IMG_0088.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxA0nM6UYbtiRMCpIlB05Dj1LjGR-3yeUlOrzGCtaRgx-8n0Yc3bxHuV73euEUNwuGNZ9qVNpPOOgzNdyGG5J-5qShn_VVfJqShmQ5SjRFLybrIWtdXZx97SRlssLebd4cg0NdJ4LhDos/s1600-h/IMG_0092.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171237673277068802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxA0nM6UYbtiRMCpIlB05Dj1LjGR-3yeUlOrzGCtaRgx-8n0Yc3bxHuV73euEUNwuGNZ9qVNpPOOgzNdyGG5J-5qShn_VVfJqShmQ5SjRFLybrIWtdXZx97SRlssLebd4cg0NdJ4LhDos/s320/IMG_0092.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div><div>Going to the market, fetching water from the borehole, getting hair braided at the salon, cooking on the charcoal stove.....a regular old Peace Corps weekend.</div></div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-30588825334057248962008-01-03T13:07:00.000+03:002008-01-03T13:27:13.006+03:00Keep your fingers crossed for KenyaI don't know if it has gotten a lot of news coverage in the US, but there is bit of a disturbance going on in Kenya at the moment and I wanted you all to be aware of it. But first let me say, I am absolutely fine, please don't worry about me.<br /><br />In the last weeks of December Kenya held it's parliamentary and presidential elections. Evidently the presidential race was very close, but they announced that the current president had won reelection. However, there were questions of corruption and the opposition party has called for an investigation. That is all relatively okay. The problem is that since the announcement of the President's election to a second term there has been significant violence erupting around Kenya. It is hard to be sure of the facts, as different news papers and radio stations give different reports, but death tolls have been estimated at around 300 people, so far. Some of the deaths have been caused by supporters of the opposition party attacking supporters of the President's party. Some deaths have been caused by opposition supporters attacking people of the President's tribe, which is the dominant tribe in Kenya. On the other hand, some deaths have been caused by police shootings at, reportedly, peaceful protests. It is a sad way to begin the new year.<br /><br />The recent events in Kenya are also effecting Uganda. For one, a number of Kenyans fleeing the violence have crossed the border into Uganda. Uganda, as a land locked country, also depends on Kenya as it's connection to the coast (a.k.a trade). Gas prices in Uganda have skyrocketted as a result of Kenya's conflict. Right now gasoline is upwards of 3 times it's normal price in Uganda!!! Taxi rides are ex-pen-sive.<br /><br />It is hard to tell what will happen in Kenya, as the disturbance is so recent. But keep an eye on the headlines and send all your peaceful thoughts and goodwill towards East Africa. Let's hope for the best.....Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-25602238910085459532008-01-02T16:18:00.000+03:002008-01-07T15:39:23.576+03:00Tis' the seasonHappy holidays to all!!!! I sincerely hope every last one of you had a great Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever other love and good-tidings filled day you choose to celebrate. And, by the way, how is 2008 treating you so far? Let me back up a moment though. I feel all this holiday business really got moving with Thanksgiving, and that it has just been one long roller coaster of celebration since.<br /><br />So Thanksgiving....I had a really, truly wonderful Thanksgiving. The celebration was the most multicultural celebration of a purely American holiday I have ever encountered. When we sat down to eat (a delicious feast cooked almost entirely by my friend Amy and myself, including--among other mouth watering treats-- turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, and of course pumpkin pie) we had a group of 10 American PCVs, 4 Ugandans (my counterpart and his wife included), 2 Pakistanis, and 2 Japanese volunteers. It was an amazing way to celebrate Thanksgiving, as we shared a piece of American culture with a variety of people. Now, explaining to our diverse dinner party <em>what</em> we were celebrating on Thanksgiving was a bit of a challenge, due to the inconsistency between the mythos of Thanksgiving and the historical fact of the matter, but we did the best we could. The company and the food were both superb, although cooking a meal of traditional Thanksgiving fare was no small task. For instance, our Thanksgiving turkey was alive and well when we woke up on the morning of the blessed event, that is until Amy and myself....well, just take a look below.<br /><br />Turkey (alive)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-QvzMXVJcKUQnKVOEQLUAiG5D3arMw1csh6rpXqKaX6-AC3wq5Abz8Vy2WnjfRaKUA1GxfvFm_QQUpP5ykFiK9UZnCx0SH_hvHRpSWabh5pV9X2AvhwhWeHAVdDJFnD4BOsR_pEUbZSX/s1600-h/turkeyt.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149012945382400498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-QvzMXVJcKUQnKVOEQLUAiG5D3arMw1csh6rpXqKaX6-AC3wq5Abz8Vy2WnjfRaKUA1GxfvFm_QQUpP5ykFiK9UZnCx0SH_hvHRpSWabh5pV9X2AvhwhWeHAVdDJFnD4BOsR_pEUbZSX/s200/turkeyt.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Turkey (not so alive)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFYNdaHWSOh9B5xjVU9jJqtK6K0Q07KyKUwPRw4vQIIr0ukJ_vvipFqHkHY4Z5cSAOj7eqxslEu9zrI1-MTcJ32Yq-n6_KitNpTubSup6cOr1xWLobKcUB4B7-qxctfYfSCpHCYuy4lAS/s1600-h/turkey.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149012941087433186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFYNdaHWSOh9B5xjVU9jJqtK6K0Q07KyKUwPRw4vQIIr0ukJ_vvipFqHkHY4Z5cSAOj7eqxslEu9zrI1-MTcJ32Yq-n6_KitNpTubSup6cOr1xWLobKcUB4B7-qxctfYfSCpHCYuy4lAS/s200/turkey.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Makeshift oven over hot coals<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBUJF2DzFUZWqcMKBg9cdZbHgHDoRMxDI5-bpOrq530R08ruxzjQElaFwXUkxNFGM79dgQrLLHC1zsaJQ2XrM9e1rm4VPt1vcKshAcNzmFhCqVvQyxoN4D_iTz7F1DntO9P-gAdK6D-4K/s1600-h/turkey2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149012941087433170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBUJF2DzFUZWqcMKBg9cdZbHgHDoRMxDI5-bpOrq530R08ruxzjQElaFwXUkxNFGM79dgQrLLHC1zsaJQ2XrM9e1rm4VPt1vcKshAcNzmFhCqVvQyxoN4D_iTz7F1DntO9P-gAdK6D-4K/s200/turkey2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Delicious!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7VORt4giwTPXN88kcNJJxTgJiVaXc7PmgPfpE6n7UewfLVJ3r1c6AGtQMfSKzn7fAOoO3bEE6uGdZNGziGz7V9ODS6NZMdexg0pUtwPLq6xTed1dvaCYw9YYalbr8pm6wuoeKhrM9SaS/s1600-h/turkey3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149012945382400514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7VORt4giwTPXN88kcNJJxTgJiVaXc7PmgPfpE6n7UewfLVJ3r1c6AGtQMfSKzn7fAOoO3bEE6uGdZNGziGz7V9ODS6NZMdexg0pUtwPLq6xTed1dvaCYw9YYalbr8pm6wuoeKhrM9SaS/s200/turkey3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm not sure if it's weird or not, but being a part of the process from slaughtering to plucking to cleaning to cooking was oddly satisfying. I felt accomplished, powerful, self-sufficient, and well, just all-around good.<br /><br />I also had really nice Christmas, which was spent at PCV Brad's house in the Eastern part of Uganda. Below are a few pictures of everyone enjoying Christmas dinner. (Just kidding, now the computer won't load them, but check back later....)<br /><br />Finally, for New Year's 2008 I stayed at my house and had a good old fashioned American style BBQ. I grilled kebabs out on my lawn and drank a few beers. The kebabs, made with beef and pork and marinaded in 4 different sauces, were delicious and I think my neighbors enjoyed them as well. Although I must admit that I fell asleep before midnight--come on, I don't have any electricity--it was a really good start to a new year in my life in Uganda. Here's to 2008, and all it may hold in store... Oh, I also made a New Year's resolution. I intend to begin exercising OR studying Luganda (the language here) at least 5 days a week. Hopefully I'll turn out smarter or healthier, which would be an improvement either way. Happy New Year!!!!Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-32274621563114382722007-11-15T14:11:00.000+03:002008-01-07T15:40:24.856+03:00Belated Halloween and Early Thanksgiving Wishes (and Rwanda!)Happy belated-Halloween and Happy early-Thanksgiving! I hope all of you dressed up for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Halloween</span>. I dressed up for a Peace Corps party, however the costume was Uganda specific so i am not sure if the hilarity of it will carry over (I promise it's actually funny!!), but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">I'll</span> try to explain. There are a lot of street hawkers in Uganda, selling anything and everything from food to radios to underwear. When you are in taxi parks especially they are overwhelmingly in your face--it can be intense. Anyways, you operate cell phones here by purchasing airtime cards and then typing the airtime number into your phone, then you can make a call. Their are LOTS of airtime hawkers in the taxi parks. There are two main cellphone companies in Uganda: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Celtel</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">MTN</span>. So, my friend Amy and I dressed up as competing airtime hawkers, her as C<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">eltel</span> and myself as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">MTN</span>. It's funny, seriously. I am not sure what my plans for Thanksgiving are yet, but don't worry I will be spending it with friends (although there won't be any mac n' cheese like your G<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">'ma</span> can make, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Momo</span>!). We are contemplating buying a turkey, but then of course we would have to slaughter, pluck, and cook it. Sounds like a lot of work, so we'll see....<br /><br />In other news, I have a kitten!!! It is an adorable little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Siamese</span> that is just so cute you want to squeeze her till she pops. Her name is Sake (like the Japanese liquor). I found her abandoned in a ditch near my house. She was completely terrified and also appeared to be injured, so I just felt too guilty to leave her there. At first having her was a bit stressful, as I was concerned that she may have rabies and she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">DEFINATELY</span> had lice. However, after getting her vaccinated and thoroughly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">de</span>-lousing her I feel much better about the situation. I also planted a garden at my house. I am trying to grow tomatoes, broccoli, lettuce, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">zucchini</span>. The tomatoes and broccoli are off to a good start, but I am not sure if the lettuce is going to pull through. Working in the garden has been a great stress reliever! It feels good to just do some work but not have to really think about anything. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Although</span>, seeing a white person digging in a garden is evidently pretty shocking/<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">hilarious</span> to most Ugandans, so sometimes I have a lot of people gawking at me, which is more stress inducing than stress relieving. In addition to my garden, I recently discovered that one of the trees in my yard is an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">avocado</span> tree. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">avocados</span> aren't quite ripe yet, but I'm super excited.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmAYIGUnHdFeT-h1caFlQHbzS7zMABgp1xrlVaosqlPFZkmW6VstDvBHH4cNPt74HCxqbmTKajbjmJD134rhW4V5jlT2UqODgxSXXrktbmrkVHdXYWztxCV8VNr9aq_6xUMp5uGgqFRM2/s1600-h/rw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149011098546463154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmAYIGUnHdFeT-h1caFlQHbzS7zMABgp1xrlVaosqlPFZkmW6VstDvBHH4cNPt74HCxqbmTKajbjmJD134rhW4V5jlT2UqODgxSXXrktbmrkVHdXYWztxCV8VNr9aq_6xUMp5uGgqFRM2/s200/rw.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s0HhKGy3fOn8reeXl1IpEI1rN8cWKTQJGlWVFxyXwys1PWMukLrjP4Mn0gJXfS-RQpYpTjvmtKNUVyx6EZ5FIfj-eYdNrjp3fZGac-czwjwS0OVxwuRY5FYIPRPOuxBrirR4Ug4Pdctc/s1600-h/beer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149011094251495842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s0HhKGy3fOn8reeXl1IpEI1rN8cWKTQJGlWVFxyXwys1PWMukLrjP4Mn0gJXfS-RQpYpTjvmtKNUVyx6EZ5FIfj-eYdNrjp3fZGac-czwjwS0OVxwuRY5FYIPRPOuxBrirR4Ug4Pdctc/s200/beer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />At the end of October I took a vacation with four <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">PCV</span> friends to Rwanda. My companions on this trip, as pictured left to right above were Rishi, Brad, me, Amy, and Joe. It was amazing! The capital of Rwanda (Kigali) is about 8-10 hours by bus from the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">capital</span> of Uganda (Kampala). We took a week off work and explored the Western half of Rwanda. We spent a night in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Gisenyi</span>, which is located on a beautiful sandy lake--Lake <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Kivu</span>--that lies on the border between Rwanda and Dem. Republic of Congo. Although we didn't go swimming (evidently there are toxic volcanic gasses in the lake that can kill you???) it was gorgeous. We also toured the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Primus</span> Beer brewery, that national beer of Rwanda (the bottle holds 720 ml!! See above). The highlight of the trip,<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgqHnhzkd5_1H2AYvVwtleBY532YurQgFx01Bte-2F2NWr9EZgbFY_AmO7t638yi7hYfatJbPtnv6FRfHZO8fmshmIojWmPG5zJ0hyphenhyphenyJlP6GgZiYaBdjkv3UNe-dNgajfngirzop2Aedw/s1600-h/lake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149011459323716034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgqHnhzkd5_1H2AYvVwtleBY532YurQgFx01Bte-2F2NWr9EZgbFY_AmO7t638yi7hYfatJbPtnv6FRfHZO8fmshmIojWmPG5zJ0hyphenhyphenyJlP6GgZiYaBdjkv3UNe-dNgajfngirzop2Aedw/s200/lake.jpg" border="0" /></a> however, was when we visited <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Parc</span> National <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">des</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Volcans</span> and hiked up Mount <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Bisoke</span>, an inactive volcano 3711m tall. At the top of the mountain was a crater lake (pictured to the right) that was shrouded in clouds. Amazing. We didn't see any gorillas (mainly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">because</span> it costs $500 to go where they live) but we did see some gorilla poop! The hike took us 7 hours round trip, most of it up-up-uphill, with our guide Jean-Claude and our four armed guards (half of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Bisoke</span> belongs to DR Congo, not the friendliest nation at the moment). The last memorable experience we had in Rwanda was visiting two different genocide memorials. I don't really know how to describe the feeling of visiting memorials to an atrocity that happened so recently. It was shocking/moving/<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">horrifying</span>/beautiful/indescribable. All in all, the trip was a success.<br /><br />I love and miss you all. Sometimes I cannot believe that I've been away from home for 8 months already, and that there is plenty more where that came from. I am ecstatic <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">every time</span> I read your emails and hear what you are doing and how you are. Please write me letters and emails and send me news of your well being. Anyone who wants to send a care package (award goes to Mom, Dad, Eric, Mrs. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Rossman</span>, and Morgan/Holly/Brit for sending me wonderful goodies) I would love anything and everything you send. Food, books/magazines, games, art stuff, pictures of yourself, and surprises of all types are greatly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">encouraged</span>!Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-77108541296794577652007-09-23T12:16:00.000+03:002007-12-28T14:07:14.546+03:00The newest news from the equatorIt's been awhile hasn't it? Sorry about that, I don't know where the time goes but suddenly it is September. Maybe it's the lack of seasons, but time for me has lost all meaning--it could just as easily be January as September in my mind. At any rate, I apologize profusely for being out of touch for so long. But hey, I AM on a different continent.<br /><br />Important news/information/events:<br />1. You should all know that I bought a mumu--and that I love it dearly. Seriously. Now, I know mumus really catch a lot criticism in America, but they are whole heartedly accepted (even for professional events) in Uganda. They are unfairly judged in America and I would urge you all to give mumus a chance. It will be a cross-cultural experience!! Eventually I will send a picture of me in my mumu, I'm pretty sure I look incredibly attractive in it.<br />2. Did you know you can back on a charcoal stove?? I sure didn't until a few months ago, but now, if I do say so myself, I am pretty darn good at it. You create a miniature oven of sorts out of two large pots, placing the dish you are baking inside the pots. Then you place the whole thing on your hot charcoal, wait awhile (the timing is pretty unpredictable because the heat of the coals varies a lot depending on how much coal/wind there is), and viola!!! I've made spice cake, coffee cake, pumpkin bread, and corn bread. Which is actually quite odd, because I never cooked most of those even when I had a fully functional electric oven. I usually give my neighbors (the women who share the building I live in) some of whatever I make because they constantly give me things from their garden: bags of avocados, huge cabbages, papayas, eggplants, potatoes. It's amazing. Anyways, they asked me to teach them how to bake corn bread. I agreed, thinking I'll be teaching a few ladies to bake. Wrong. Somehow this turns into quite an event and before I know what's happening I am teaching 5 or 6 women and at least as many rowdy teenage boys. Thankfully the corn bread turned out excellent, because how embarrassing would that have been?!?!? Anyways, I guarantee anyone who comes over here to visit me fresh baked goods, hot off the charcoal stove.<br />3. I finally got a tent (thanks Dad and Mom!) and went camping in it for the first time a few weeks back. It was great. I went with 4 friends to Mabira Forest, which is a huge, wonderful, incredibly old, monkey-harboring, bird-filled (you'd love it Mom) rain forest. We camped and hiked, had a camp fire, roasted kabobs, and just generally had a great time. The only issue: seriously angry ants--everywhere. These are the kind of ants that are so big you can see their pinchers, from a few paces away. When they bite you they hang on and you literally have to rip them off. And there are a million of them. The lines they move in are just incredible, it's like a river. Just picture something out of national geographic. We spent a decent portion of our hiking leaping over these ant rivers at a run to try and avoid their vicious attacks. Still a great trip though.<br /><br />Thank you thank you thank you to those who have emailed (Alison, you are the best/most consistent emailer I LOVE you), and those who wrote me letters/sent packages. I'm sorry if I haven't responded to people personally, but internet time is a serious challenge. Please keep emailing me and I PROMISE to respond to people individually soon. Maybe even later this week (Pete and G your emails were amazing, I will write you soon!). Internet time's up. Later from the equator.....Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-49864808394706468492007-07-01T12:05:00.000+03:002007-12-28T16:08:54.871+03:00Getting oldIs it really summer there?? I am still stuck in the belief that it is February in America, because that's when I left and I cannot imagine that time progresses undisturbed without me. That's just preposterous! But evidently it is now July, which I am especially aware of due to the fact that today, at long last, I am 23 years old! I had a wonderful birthday, which I spent with many of my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PCV</span></span> friends here in Uganda. It's been great. I even got presents!!!!! Remarkable among the gifts I received are a hand crafted birthday poster in which I have googly-eyes, a turtle carved out of stone, a crown made out of banana leaves, and four humongous cabbages. It was amazing--although I have to admit that I gave the cabbages away to an orphanage because what am I going to do with FOUR monster cabbages?!?! At any rate, it was all amazing. And I cannot wait to receive all of your birthday wishes, which I trust all of you remembered to send out approximately three weeks ago, and that I will be receiving in the mail any day now!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlsxM474Uo1A5AZg8oLCeWu75XgaLV_tgeyePTqfWEKFr588AoDw0W3kPSXrPbqgYxOI8FkkHcdd5XxJM1s8oPZ3HCB0M3ZNQiq54wFTrU63Vq6KZz2Mf5YVQIspHaE4J19wS4kTFK2pQ/s1600-h/bb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149008169378767234" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlsxM474Uo1A5AZg8oLCeWu75XgaLV_tgeyePTqfWEKFr588AoDw0W3kPSXrPbqgYxOI8FkkHcdd5XxJM1s8oPZ3HCB0M3ZNQiq54wFTrU63Vq6KZz2Mf5YVQIspHaE4J19wS4kTFK2pQ/s200/bb.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsRjOVGd6QDxVzluoczsvw_iKBfTQzzwjgG_jL2Csx_Ylh_WsHTiIHVuf-qrDd28Edx3YaKd8uiuPJONln1hHLov1y9qvN0Bkin1ed2iv0Pf8LNCT9320Tn61U9h03ac62-iocFWPEKWR/s1600-h/b.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149008177968701842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsRjOVGd6QDxVzluoczsvw_iKBfTQzzwjgG_jL2Csx_Ylh_WsHTiIHVuf-qrDd28Edx3YaKd8uiuPJONln1hHLov1y9qvN0Bkin1ed2iv0Pf8LNCT9320Tn61U9h03ac62-iocFWPEKWR/s200/b.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNa5EDwrK5Nl92yf86CpG6ZNHgBFH5gqxaTAA0Snh6h2eWJoF1huxgclybepO1VmqgDYm2h-v94I_37Gxu75A5PtbrHptUrdAxROUR54U6xQ5tHdJhJwp__PJ2DP4VGpDFMG0MJ2oq2FCy/s1600-h/bbb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149008160788832626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNa5EDwrK5Nl92yf86CpG6ZNHgBFH5gqxaTAA0Snh6h2eWJoF1huxgclybepO1VmqgDYm2h-v94I_37Gxu75A5PtbrHptUrdAxROUR54U6xQ5tHdJhJwp__PJ2DP4VGpDFMG0MJ2oq2FCy/s200/bbb.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Life here is good. My neighbors are getting used to me and I am finally settling into my house, I even have some furniture now!!! The top left picture was taken looking out my bedroom window. The top right picture is my neighbor Grace washing laundry in our backyard. She is a cook for the priests at the Catholic church. The bottom picture was also taken in my backyard. As you can see, the neighbors were doing some major cooking. My kitchen is the metal hut in the background. My recent home-improvement project has been making curtains. I bought some majorly cool African print fabric and have been sewing two curtains for my house, because that's how many windows I have, two. It's taken me a little while, but some days I have nothing else to do with my time and sewing curtains seems great. It's kind of like TV when your bored, except not really because it is not especially entertaining. But I don't have a TV, so curtains it is!<br /><br />The other night I woke up to hear something rustling in my room. I listened for a minute and concluded that whatever was making the sound was certainly bigger than a cockroach, which can be pretty big here. So I decided I should probably investigate. My room has a sink in it, although there is no running water in my area, and as near as I can tell there never really has been running water despite the fact that some buildings have had pipes installed. Anyways, I tracked the noise to the useless sink, which had an empty travel-size tissue package in it. The package was moving. But what was in the package???? I couldn't tell. Deciding it was probably a bad idea to poke at the package or try to pick it up, I scooped it into a Tupperware and slapped the lid on. And what popped out of the tissue package??? A mouse!!! A very frightened mouse, and rightly so. I released him outside, but if the other ladies who live in my building had seen him he surely would have been beaten to death with a huge stick. Truthfully, I've seen my neighbor Grace pulverize one rat and one snake with a very very large stick. So this mouse was lucky he was only expelled from the house and thrown into a nearby bush.<br /><br />My work with the schools here has been pretty slow in starting. There are days when I do absolutely nothing related to education. Instead I sew curtains or do my laundry or go to the borehole. But that's okay, because I see work on the horizon. I have an idea I am beginning to flesh out that would deal with literacy and creating books for children to read. There are NO story books available to kids here. Seriously, like NONE. This project could also deal with social aspects of issues such as AIDS. But this project is still just an idea, so don't expect much of an update on it for 4-6 months at least. Progress is slow! More immediately, I am working with my counterpart, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lukman</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kirya</span></span>, on organizing an Instructional Materials Exhibition at our school. We are asking schools in the area to create learning aides for different subject areas from locally available and low-cost materials. Then we will have an exhibition in which the materials are awarded recognition, by a panel of judges. Or at least that's the idea, we'll see how it goes. Could be amazing, but also has the potential to just be super stressful and mostly unsuccessful. On July 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span></span> we'll see.....Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-30477642666110293232007-05-13T11:50:00.000+03:002007-12-28T13:14:55.564+03:00Time to get lonelyI just want you to know that right now I am having the best <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internet</span> experience ever! The connection is fast and there are ceiling fans running. That's pretty much it, but it's the little things that really make me happy. I am in Kampala, which is the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">capital</span> of and largest city in Uganda. Last Thursday we were sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">PCVs</span>) and sent off on our own to our respective sites. My site is in a town called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kakiri</span>, which is only about an hour outside of Kampala. I have two rooms to live in, which are part of a building shared by three other women. The rooms are pretty small, but newly painted and tidy. I also have my own pit latrine and a bathing room, which is a cement room the size of a medium closet with a drain in one corner for the water from your bucket-bath to run out of. Furthermore, I have a Ugandan-style kitchen! It is a little hut outside of the main house that you can do your cooking in. I have a charcoal stove, called a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">sigiri</span>, and today in Kampala I just bought a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">kerosene</span> stove as well. So far I haven't really cooked, as I just got the stoves, but I plan to start. I also still don't have any furniture. So the past four days have basically consisted of me sitting on the floor and eating food that doesn't involve heat. It's like camping, only indoors! But I am slowly getting all the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">necessities</span>, so don't worry.<br /><br />I am living in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Kakiri</span> at a place called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Naddangira</span> Coordinating Center. The Coordinating Center is where I will work out of with my Ugandan counterpart, whose name is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lukman</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Kirya</span> (he is really nice!). The Center is part of St. Pius Primary School, which is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">government</span> aided school but also Catholic--church and state aren't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">separated</span> here the same way they are in the US. My house is next to the primary school, behind the Catholic church, and down the road from a clinic also run by the Catholics. Then there is also a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">secondary</span> school on the same hill and some staff housing. It is a nice little community. I've only been there 4 days, so of course I am a bit lonely, but I think that will be remedied with time. My neighbor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Rebecca</span> already invited me to go to her church with her. Of course I accepted (what else did I have to be doing, sitting on my floor eating peanut butter and wallowing in loneliness??????). She goes to a Seventh Day Adventist church and on Saturday I went with her. It was a great experience, if perhaps a little long--I spent over 5 hours at this church! Everyone there was so nice to me and friendly, not at all judgemental that I wasn't an Adventist, or even a Christian of any type. I'm really glad I went, even if the entire service was in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Luganda</span> and, hence, beyond my comprehension.<br /><br />I also managed to kill about an hour fetching water from the borehole. The borehole is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">conveniently</span> located at the bottom of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">treacherous</span> hill. I was in a stubborn mood when I went to get water, so I decided to fill my 20 liter <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">jerry</span> can up all the way. I can carry this, right? Then I decided to decline all offers of help from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">pitying</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">passersby</span>. Great idea, Brett. Anyways, I was triumphant, but I have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">since</span> bought a smaller <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">jerry</span> can to fill!!! I'll see how I manage with 10 liters.<br /><br />Mail update: Even though I have moved you can continue to send mail to the same address. It is the Peace Corps office and I can pick mail up there periodically. So send me stuff, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">because</span> you love me and now I am all alone. Sniff, sniff..... Packages welcome. Send me mix-tapes, seriously I have a tape player!!!!!!!! Here is the address:<br />Brett Snyder, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">PCV</span><br />P.O. Box 29348<br />Kampala, Uganda<br /><br />Miss you all, but am still loving it here. The real experience has just begun......Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-85088413336040857082007-04-07T11:28:00.000+03:002007-12-28T15:45:31.066+03:00I'm a muzungu now<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-0FxtKkpYf3874rAku-FjAyOHTKPDQF2FZPGmnFfax0NEYhcTmFFzXcPSaWi_qpQutb7W1XFyjksrnVHHEMLdQOI-7v065lk6z1Ji9v0rt-5mnOMlV4B6piGQJWX58u-HSw6BMoXzBi/s1600-h/b1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149003603828531506" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-0FxtKkpYf3874rAku-FjAyOHTKPDQF2FZPGmnFfax0NEYhcTmFFzXcPSaWi_qpQutb7W1XFyjksrnVHHEMLdQOI-7v065lk6z1Ji9v0rt-5mnOMlV4B6piGQJWX58u-HSw6BMoXzBi/s200/b1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PSNIaKRYF9uUn-TNoJcebSsD8JXKzHeu6PlJD5QJY1Ryjb0vHlJuLJWVXzEWeQEDXju1mJSHom9yW55nhZVaVACKQp16No2PBz2hzH7EEhYTqJ9ZFtUYvyh-uHARZjeqE_-S9R9EzIOt/s1600-h/b2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149003612418466114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PSNIaKRYF9uUn-TNoJcebSsD8JXKzHeu6PlJD5QJY1Ryjb0vHlJuLJWVXzEWeQEDXju1mJSHom9yW55nhZVaVACKQp16No2PBz2hzH7EEhYTqJ9ZFtUYvyh-uHARZjeqE_-S9R9EzIOt/s200/b2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div>It has now been confirmed, to any of you skeptics, that there is indeed internet in Uganda!!! There may only be internet in the few large towns, and there may not always be electricity, and when there is a large town AND electricity it may take 20 minutes to check a single email, but there is internet none the less (actually, internet accessibility is growing by leaps and bounds in Uganda, as is a lot of other technology). But that doesn't mean you are all excused from writing me a good old fashioned letter, as so many of you promised to do before I left. So far only my mother has followed through on that promise. Thanks Mom!!! So the rest of you better step it up, or I'll be making new friends when i come back to the States! Just kidding, but seriously you should write me because then people here won't think that I'm an outcast in America cause I never have any mail....<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbDmbtERLyQqu9eLTjcZtGDkkCCe0kWgpb78gySZ1JOqJ0JLUPeudof_yh78Qay1TfZ9Vt5qQL8BVFkMpbUK0sq6Zu8doeXL0S9O7yER4Sr62D2E4vm-TZjJhWdpiwoge1Do8YpnNXgR-/s1600-h/b4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148992784805912786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" height="305" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbDmbtERLyQqu9eLTjcZtGDkkCCe0kWgpb78gySZ1JOqJ0JLUPeudof_yh78Qay1TfZ9Vt5qQL8BVFkMpbUK0sq6Zu8doeXL0S9O7yER4Sr62D2E4vm-TZjJhWdpiwoge1Do8YpnNXgR-/s320/b4.jpg" width="225" border="0" /></a><br />So far being in Uganda has been an experience to be sure, a seriously great one. Since I arrived, and for the next 4 weeks, I have been living in a town called Luweero. Each volunteer in my training class, which is 50 people, lives with a different Ugandan family in Luweero while we complete training. My family is great, it has been awkward at times--many, many times--but they are super sweet and nice to me. The pictures at the top are of the house we stay in. My host mother, Robinah, is the woman standing next to the bicycle. The picture to the left is my 'brother' Sam. He is two years old and acts completely and utterly indifferent to my presence. The family speaks Luganda (which is the language I am learning) and English, so I can communicate fairly well. They gave me <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_-B6u6uFHOYARzbHKkVvB32RX9t0bNWAAwGwD61GBA76YsSzfxRAUnbBqNkph6myGwBLGzUgt21DGA30CvYkLrCCcS4WEkc6Gt5SFWt40SSgvpy5ts8N0OZR9OzUM0y0N3YCUq5cXtg_/s1600-h/b2.jpg"></a>a room and they cook for me and are just generally excited to have<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUF5OsVAWAD_zNRAkB8BYKjf1hv7VZ-l-A-bMW6UVPCgYzN-LScGkJmqHYmx-lHQAqkR4pfYifEFpOGg2uugLb8BAF8lB6cuJXGhVju9d4fphwSJQ-owJm3ui6mMZZJNzR1YgDwWW8RrpQ/s1600-h/b2.jpg"></a> me <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJ3sAG4sGjnnUrxZpu2r4EJijeh0J0kKpKwV5WD2vmxzNbIG0kcSxN0cnzHhO4OIpTdpV7-A4Zo3rLk02a15VH9f2LJjbJycHHs20HwMelTHNrP9KC2zTFzcGaixFiPAcJiPP-BDRDWl6/s1600-h/b1.jpg"></a>around. The food is good, but insanely based upon carbohydrate intake in huge amounts. They want me to eat a heaping plate of food--seriously heaping--two times a day and have three tea breaks with substantial snacks. At dinner my family has matooke (unripe bananas steamed and mushed into a mashed potato tasting paste), potatoes, sweet potatoes, rice, plain noodles (which they call 'maceroons'), cassava, and posho (a millet porridge). All in one meal. Then we will also have a little beans and peanut sauce or possibly some fried (bitter) greens. It is an Atkin's dieter's worst nightmare!!!!!! It tastes good, but it will be a relief to be able to cook for myself again just so I can increase my vegetable intake. Plus, I don't eat what they consider to be enough food. Being fat in Uganda is a sign of being healthy and well taken care of. So everyone would know how well my family is treating me if I gained a lot of weight, so that is their primary goal I think. My host mother told me she wanted me to get so fat that when I sent pictures home my friends and family wouldn't recognize me! I'm trying not to let it get that out of hand..... My "sisters" Sanyu, Lillian, and Loy are peeling Cassava for dinner in this picture.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4iuDxqaCViNfYUFOTPbc2Sl0hBslxwJBb2LDYH844bXQqrfqZ1jnzdPdeQ0osVTUOjQwE69vWvDnQUfBiXMtxD5vhg9mcP7hga9riw6hQI1akgR3mGl-jHfxEixl6h4MPNYWQ64Bdwpu/s1600-h/b3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148991857092976818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="213" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4iuDxqaCViNfYUFOTPbc2Sl0hBslxwJBb2LDYH844bXQqrfqZ1jnzdPdeQ0osVTUOjQwE69vWvDnQUfBiXMtxD5vhg9mcP7hga9riw6hQI1akgR3mGl-jHfxEixl6h4MPNYWQ64Bdwpu/s320/b3.jpg" width="276" border="0" /></a><br />To get to and from the place where we meet for our training classes I ride a bicycle. While wearing a skirt. And the bicycle is seriously too large for me and has one tire which consistently goes flat. But it works, and it is only a mile or so to the training center. Ugandans call white people muzungu, which pretty much just means 'white person.' so when I walk places or ride my bike there are constant calls of "muzungu! muzungu!" The best are the children though, they get a pretty good chant going. It goes "byyyyyyyyeeeee muzuuuuuungu, byyyyyyyyyeeeeee muzuuuuuuungu, byyyyyyyyeeeeeee muzuuuuuungu." I am not sure why they all say 'bye,' rather than 'hi,' but no one seems to be aware of any derivative of the word 'hello.' This is probably because there is not an equivalent word to 'hello' in Luganda, the local language of the area. Alright, my time is up. As they say in Luganda, "Beera bulungi!" Or, stay well!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2274793460956098056.post-54400864625923968992007-02-23T12:11:00.000+03:002007-12-28T12:27:59.151+03:003, 2, 1...Uganda!So, guess who's going to Africa in one week? Thaaaat's right, youuu guessed it. It's me!!! On March 1 I will be embarking on my long awaited Peace Corps journey. I am travelling with the Peace Corps to Uganda (right in between Kenya and the Democratic Republic of Congo) to work as a primary school teacher trainer. I will spend 10 weeks in Uganda being trained for my assignment, and then spend 2 years working in a rural Ugandan community, finishing in May 2009. Exactly what sort of work I actually end up doing is really any one's guess, as each community's needs vary and most projects are free-form and self-motivated. However, the Peace Corps literature says that generally speaking teacher trainers help teachers improve their technical skills, plan lessons, develop resources, and introduce participatory activities in classrooms. I will also probably have a chance to work with administrators to build leadership skills and help communities become connected with educational projects. But like I said, it is really hard to know exactly what the work will be like. It's like a surprise, and who doesn't love surprises?!?!?<br /><br />Here is a brief historical note on Uganda, to help contextualize the Peace Corps' work there and give everyone an idea of the country's status. Uganda gained independence from Great Britain in 1962. A few years later Milton Obote, the country's first leader, suspended the constitution and ruled by martial law. People began to be unhappy with him. In 1971 he was overthrown in a military coup which brought Idi Amin to power. Idi Amin, who would rule as President of Uganda until 1979 was at first welcomed by both citizens of the country and the international community. However, by the time Amin was exiled in 1979 he would be recognized as responsible for the deaths of over 300,000 Ugandans. Suffice to say, he was not a good guy. You can see/read "The Last King of Scotland" if you'd like to get a taste of the kind of man Idi Amin was. Anyways, to make a long story short, Uganda is still one of the poorest and least developed countries in the world (in 2000 Uganda ranked 158th out 174 countries in the United Nations Development Programme). However, the current government, led by Yoweri Museveni sine the mid 1980s, has been successful in a number of development projects and social programs. Despite Uganda's impoverishment, it is widely viewed today as an inspirational success story, economically and culturally. Interesting contrast, huh? A decade or two ago the AIDS virus was at 30% of the population. Yet after a number of projects and reforms it is today down to under 10%. That's a big drop. So Uganda is doing something right.<br /><br />But let's return to the topic of education. As stability returned to Uganda in the 80's and 90's the number of children attending school quickly multiplied, straining resources and increasing the numbers of untrained teachers. On top of that, in 1997 a policy of Universal Primary Education began, allowing children to attend school for free. Overnight the number of pupils doubled. The Peace Corps hopes to support the improvement of the basic quality of education in Uganda. So, in a nutshell, that is why I am have been invited to go to Uganda.<br /><br />Alright, enough academic explanation. How about some fun facts! Here is the info people seemed to want to know most when I told them of my impending expedition, or stuff I think is cool.<br />-There will not be other volunteers working with me in my community. I will be the only American living there.<br />-I will probably not have running water.<br />-I will probably not have electricity (although last night I had a dream I did!!!).<br />-There are lions in Uganda. And hippos and various monkeys and lots of other cool animals!<br />-Uganda has a lot of lakes, which together are the source of the Nile. The actual SOURCE!! I kind of forgot the Nile had one before I read that.....<br />-To get around between the schools I will be working at I will ride a bicycle. I think it will be the kind you back pedal to put the breaks on.<br />-I get 2 days of vacation per month I work, so anyone who wants to come explore the region drop me a line, cause I plan on doing some traveling!!!<br />-I will probably have email access every 2-3 months, so definitely write me, but expect a belated reply!<br /><br />And finally, yes, I can get mail. So, I am making a move to bring back letter writing. Let's all pretend the Internet doesn't exist, it's fun! I would be ecstatic to receive some letters, and I promise to write back. Seriously, letter writing is often a great from of recreation for Peace Corps Volunteers (think no TV, movies, cars, etc.). And just think how excited you will be when you get an actual, real live letter from me! Evidently letters take at least 3 weeks to reach Uganda from the United States. So start writing now! Here is important letter writing information:<br />-Write "Airmail" and "Par Avion" on your letters so that they are sure to go by airmail (surface mail takes like 6 months)<br />-If you want to send me anything (I encourage pictures, candy, random trinkets, etc.) keep it small and just put it in a padded envelope so that it is treated as a letter.<br />-Don't worry if you do not hear from me right away, it may take my letter a long while to arrive.<br />-This will be my mailing address during my training, which will be until about mid-may. I'll let you know my new address then:<br />Brett Snyder, PCT<br />P.O. Box 29348<br />Kampala, Uganda<br /><br />Well, enough for now. I will miss you all and think of you often while away. I am so excited for this trip and have been waiting to have such an adventure for soooo long!!! I will email when I can, and of course write letters (it's fun!!). Stay well everyone, and I hope to hear from you all.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00087674779522343304noreply@blogger.com0