Equator visit

Safari

What a thrill--from watching giraffes fight (rather gently pushing each other with their necks), to seeing baboons deftly open a trash can lid, to seeing more hippos than you can count, to seeing an elephant begin a charge toward our car when we used Carl as bait (a bit of misunderstanding with our guide led to Carl posing for a photo and then quickly climbing back in the van).

More kids

The kids entertaining themselves with Snakes and Ladders

Coming back from the market in a matatu

We had a snack at the Sheraton in downtown Kampala.

Amy and Carl arrived Tuesday night. They were in good shape considering the long flights. What a delight to have them here. Amy was unfortunately awakened early Wed. morning by the rooster in the yard behind us, but Carl managed to sleep well. We have taken them on boda bodas and matatus to shop and look around town the last couple days.

Unfortunately, yesterday's plans were changed because Paul, who we thought was better from his week of sickness, woke up feeling ill again. We all piled in a special hire and accompanied him to the doctor (well, kind of accompanied him - there's this great little coffee shop right next door to the doctor's office...). Apparently he just has a garden-variety virus, but it has wiped him out. Hopefully he'll be better when we leave on safari Mon.

On the way home from the doctor's office our special was stopped by the traffic police not far from our home. The officer disapproved of the form of i.d. the driver had, but mostly he took him to task for having five passengers instead of the legal limit of four. This may indeed be a rule, but it appears minor in light of the complete disregard for safety and common sense drivers constantly show. For instance, when we were caught in a traffic jam on our way to the airport Tues. night, our special hire driver (a different one) crossed through the oncoming traffic to the opposite lane's shoulder, drove along the shoulder for awhile dodging pedestrians and parked cars, then blocked traffic to cut back into our lane. That is the kind of thing they need traffic police for!

Anyway, when this officer stopped us, Carl and I, in an attempt to defuse the situation, got out of the taxi, hoping that since now we were under the legal limit of passengers our driver would be let go. We felt bad for having put him in this situation. The driver offered the policeman a bribe but the officer refused it. He told our driver to pull over to a parking area and said he would impound the car. The driver pretended to pull over but instead drove off. He stopped just around a bend in the road and told Paul, Amy and Scott to get out of the car fast. He didn't even take the time to have them pay. He drove off, leaving them to walk the rest of the way home. They had to walk past the traffic officer, who seemed unperturbed.

In the afternoon Amy, Carl, Scott and I went to Oweno, the big downtown market. Amy and Carl handled the crush well. Carl got a soccer jersey and Amy bought fabric to have a skirt made. Today is a low key day without much planned as we wait for Tracy to arrive.

Karamajong culture

The Karamajong culture revolves around cattle. Interestingly, they did believe and perhaps many still do (I'm not clear on this) that all of the cattle of the world belong to them. That's an impediment to friendly relations with your neighbors if your neighbors happen to also herd cattle, which they do. The disastrous consequences multiplied when they began exchanging spears and bows for AK-47s in the 1980s. (See the earlier entry about the Peace Villages and you will appreciate what a great accomplishment they have been. The residents of the Peace Villages are prohibited from grazing cattle in or around the villages to decrease the risk of raids.)

They live a semi-nomadic lifestyle to seek grass for their cattle in a dry area of the country. The Karamajong are accustomed to walking long distances with little water or food. We gained first-hand experience trying to match a comfortable pace for them with what seemed like a very fast walk. Their custom is to build small villages in a circle with an open area in the center for safe-keeping of their cattle at night.

We also witnessed an enjoyable aspect of their culture. After darkness fell, 50 or more of the villagers, young to old, women and men, gathered in a circle not far from our tents and began singing. One of the children used a plastic jerry can for a drum. Their songs were often repetitious with one or two people singing verses and the whole group singing the chorus. Of course, we couldn't understand the words, but Dr. Val said that many of the songs were Christian ones that the villagers had written. The singing itself was a treat but the unique part was the jumping. Several members at a time took turns jumping to the rhythm. It was on a four-count: swinging arms back; swinging arms forward and making a small jump; swinging arms back; swinging arms forward and making a high jump. Scott shows you how in the photo.

Suit shopping

Suit sellers at Oweno Market

Street scene outside of Oweno Market

Scott needs a suit for a big banquet RVA has in February. We've gone shopping twice now for one at Oweno Market, the big downtown bazaar. Scott and I estimate there are between 4000-5000 stalls there, with tiny pathways between them. The first time we went we didn't do too well, but yesterday a friend connected us with Fred, a Ugandan man with a women's clothing stall there. Fred met us outside the market and took us to his stall, where he hinted it would be a good idea for me to purchase something to get things rolling. That was ok with me, since I'd been wanting new shirts and intended to pay him for his help anyway. Then he took off and came back about 10 minutes later with two suits, the first of which fit Scott perfectly. So we got a Marks and Spencer suit for $45 U.S. dollars, and 3 shirts for me for $15. Not a bad deal. On the way out we picked Scott up a shirt and snappy tie for $6.

On our way out of town I inadvertently caused an accident. We were in a matatu in stop-and-go traffic when the driver of the matatu next to us called out to me, "Yes, mzungu." This is one of the typical ways people greet you. I was just starting to look over when I heard a crunching, scraping noise. The friendly driver and a third matatu had gotten into a fender bender. Keep your eyes on the road, friendly driver!

Unfortunately, when we changed matatus for the last leg of the drive home, we got in The Bad One. Several people on board, including the conductor and probably the driver, worked together to steal our money. They were slick. The conductor had me sit in the front seat, which is unusual but not unheard of, and had Scott go in the back. Another "passenger" moved next to Scott and engaged him in conversation while a third took his money. The conductor pretended he couldn't get my door shut tight and had me keep helping him try to slam it. Meanwhile, the man next to me was taking my money, even though I had it double zipped in my purse. Like I said, these guys were good. Looking back on it, it seems clear what was happening, but at the time none of it was obvious.

Despite having money taken three times in three months, I don't feel unsafe here. People steal, but violent crime against whites is rare. I hope we'll become savvier without becoming suspicious of everyone.

Less than a week until Amy and Carl come, and just over a week until Tracy comes!

A really great and disappointing trip

Our son, Scott, joined me for a project scouting trip to northeastern Uganda in the Karamoja region. We were visiting on behalf of CLIDE Consultancy and Dr. Val Shean, a missionary supported by our home church in Corvallis. She's a vet but has broadened her work to help start the national CLIDE Consultancy, which provides animal health, human health, HIV/AIDS, education, agricultural and other development services. Dr. Val came to know and serve both sub-groups of the Karamajong people during her many years in this area and eventually helped to broker forgiveness and resettlement of the two groups in what have become known as Peace Villages.

It's a dry area. Many of the Peace Villages are too far from water. That's where EMI and I came in. It had been reported that there were productive springs and the thought was that we could help design collection systems to protect the quality of the water and capture a greater quantity of it. Unfortunately, after many kilometers of hiking over two long days and visits to four springs, we found that none were too productive. There's a chance that we can develop one but it's not what we had hoped. It was very disappointing because the people living in these villages have risked their lives to help settle the conflict that had raged for decades and they are truly desperate. They have so little.

The great part was to visit Dr. Val, the villages, and interact with the people. Their culture and experiences are so vastly different from ours. It was like no camping trip that I'd ever been on, with our tents placed right among their huts. The other photo shows two very happy and excited Pauls when they learned that they shared the same name. (They had an awful time saying "Scott.")

Paul

(Check out CLIDE Consultancy's website and watch the YouTube video on the Karamajong Peace Villages.)

Water for Bukaleba orphanage

One of my projects this fall was to help with the engineering for the water supply to a new orphanage located about 2 hours east of Kampala. The photo's show the new dormitory and kitchen/dining hall buildings (with a solar hot water heater donated by the US government) and the water storage tanks between them; the inside of the dormitory; and Danny, one of the EMI interns, happily watching the first water flow through the pipe. The water source for this project is a spring. Water is pumped over a hill and flows by gravity to the on-site storage tanks.

Paul