Bergs in Uganda

One month

2010-06-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

We left Uganda one month ago today. We've been home in Corvallis for about two weeks. It's been great to see Tracy, Carl, and Alfonc (our exchange student), and to meet Nasir, Carl's roommate. We've been catching up with friends around town and at church. We've gotten to see both our moms and some of our family. We've worked in our yard when the sun has come out, and shopped and cleaned. Paul started back at CH2M yesterday. In other words, we've begun to get back to our Corvallis life. It's been nice, and we haven't really experienced the reverse culture shock people sometimes do.

Scott, meanwhile, is still at school in Kenya. He had his mid-term break this last weekend. He and some friends decided they would go camping in the bush. Paul and I were a little concerned, but we figured this is the kind of thing you do when you are 17 and living in Africa. Here's the report we got from Scott when he returned (he told me it was ok to post). A few vocabulary explanations first:

Mrs. King is his dorm mother
the tracks he refers to are the railroad tracks leading away from the school
"longanaut" is Mt. Longanaut, the hill they were planning to climb
"boda" is a motorcycle
"click" is short for kilometer

"yeah of course we are safe. mrs. king told me you were worried but there was nothing to be worried about. we walked up to the tracks and down them towards longanaut. we had to walk in the rain under a big tarp which was tiring. we got there and paid for a nights camping which was cheap. interesting anecdote: a dude booked up on a boda, ran into the longanaut building and came back decked out in camo with a machine gun cocking it and checking his load. he took off and we asked the ranger where he was off to. the ranger told us he was going down the road to fight bandits. hardcore. anyways, we camped a night, walked up to the top and went down. we were talking about going further out but then a train came. we tried to hop it and failed. we met it at the station a click away and talked to conductor, he offered to give us a ride to kijabe and we accepted. it was awesome."

Corvallis may seem a little tame when he gets home in mid-July.

Going home

2010-05-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

We've had a great trip home and are almost, but not quite, there. We spent four nice days in Finland with our friends. Finland is the anti-Africa, not in the sense of being against Africa, but of being its opposite: clean, finished, organized. Pauli and Tiina and their kids are as wonderful as they ever were, and we enjoyed the time to reconnect with them, this time on their home turf rather than ours.

We then spent most of a week in Providence, R.I., where Paul delivered his paper about his invention and participated in his professional conference. I lived it up - got a pedicure, shopped at the mall across the street, went out for coffee. We were near the Italian section of town, which reminded me of Ocean City NJ, which made me both happy and sad. Paul wasn't working all the time, so we ate out at some good restaurants and walked around Providence, which is a pretty city.

Now we're in Montgomery, AL, visiting the church which was the principal supporter of Paul's project in Ngenge. The people, only a few of whom we had met before, have been welcoming and helpful. Today we toured downtown Montgomery and saw sites associated with the Civil War and the Civil Rights movement. The weather is in the mid-90's and humid - definitely hotter than Uganda. Tomorrow Paul will preach in the morning service and we'll show slides of our time in Uganda in the afternoon.

Then we're going home!

Goodbye Uganda

2010-05-08T04:05:00.000-07:00

I feel like I should say something profound here, but I don't know what it is. Our time in Uganda has been fascinating, discouraging, fun, challenging,rewarding - all of which we expected but didn't know how it would play out. Now we know. We have years' worth of impressions that we've packed into nine months. I know we both hope we take time to reflect on what we've experienced when we arrive home, and I think we will. But for now, we're anticipating stepping onto that British Air flight at nine tomorrow morning, settling into our comfortable seats, and flying back to a different world.

Thanks again for all the love and support we have received from our friends and family. It's been fun communicating with you through this blog, and though I don't anticipate continuing it for long once we return home, I'm sure we'll have a few thoughts and pictures to put up.

"The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace,"

Karen

Road work and brick making

2010-05-07T00:13:00.001-07:00

As part of the ongoing work on the "mansions" next door to us, the owner has had some roadwork done on our corner. The dirt road was graded, and gravel was put down. Some laborers put a tack coat of tar down for the gravel.

Almost all houses in Uganda that aren't mud and thatch are made of brick. This photo shows how the bricks are made. They are formed, then set out in the sun to dry. After that they are stacked up in this sort of semi-pyramid, which is then covered with mud. Straw is piled on top. A fire is lit inside, and when the straw starts to burn, the bricks are done. You see these brick hives all over as you drive. The house is plastered inside and out for a finished appearance.

John receives his wheelchair

2010-05-05T03:51:00.000-07:00

This sequence of photos shows John on the day he received his wheelchair. He was completely surprised, saying "I didn't even ask for this."

In the top photo, he's listening as they translate the note that we wrote to him. Our brief message reminded him that God cares, and though he used us as the means to provide the wheelchair, it was truly a gift from God.
Then he moved toward his new chair, stopping along the way to untie and remove the cushion he had been using.
He was able to lift himself onto the chair without too much trouble and spent a few minutes examining it.
The trike wheelchair takes some practice because you steer it with your hands while meanwhile spinning the crank. Initially, some of the villagers pushed him to help him get used to it.
Before long, John had mastered it and left the man helping him far behind.

We hope it's a new chapter in his life.

Paul

Trike delivered

2010-04-29T02:06:00.000-07:00

These pictures don't have anything to do with the post, they are just miscellaneous street scenes from our neighborhood. Fresh chicken, anyone?

This is Noelle, who has done sewing for me, and her helper. Her shop is underneath a staircase.

A corner not far from where we live. Can you find the EMI sign?

We heard from Rev. David on Monday that he was able to deliver the trike to the disabled man in Ngenge. He said the man was very happy and was able to ride it fine. He was going to try to take pictures, so if he sends us some we'll post them.

We're coming down to the end of our time in Kampala and I wanted to let you know about our travel plans for coming home. We've got some fun things planned along the way. We fly out May 9 to London, then continue on the next day to Finland, where we'll see our good friends, Pauli and Tiina. We first met them when they lived in the U.S. over 20 years ago. It's been our dream for many years to see them on their side of the world. Hopefully we'll be able to see their three children as well.

On May 14th we'll fly to Providence, RI, where Paul will be delivering a paper about field trials of his invention to the World Environmental and Water Resources Congress. After that we head to Montgomery, AL, on May 21, where we'll spend the weekend with people from Christchurch, the church that was the major supporter of the work done in Ngenge. We'll fly home from there on May 24. It's coming up soon!

Originally we had planned to return home in mid-June, but we moved up our departure date to May when Paul got his paper accepted for the conference. That means we'll be arriving before OSU gets out, which means Carl and his roommates will be making space for us until the term is over. We appreciate their flexibility, and I hope to make up for it by providing some good home-cooking for them.

Going-away party

2010-04-26T02:19:00.000-07:00

Liz and me. We arrived in Kampala at almost the same time and have shared a lot of experiences. She and her husband have lived many places around the world, so she showed me the ropes of managing in a foreign country.

Scott has turned into a capable juggler. He was a good sport about hanging around with our friends.

Kevin, our host, and John, our pastor, visit with Paul on the front steps.

Left to right: Sherrie, who owns a generator company in Kampala (great business to be in with our intermittent power); Dick, a doctor; Rand, a documentary filmmaker and sometime fish farmer; Derek, an accountant with Missionary Aviation Fellowship; and Kristi, a hairstylist. Scott is listening to their tales of life in Uganda. They're all in our Bible study.

Our good friends Kevin and Liz threw us a going-away party last Saturday at their home. It was a perfect party, in my opinion, because we got to have lots of our favorite new friends together, but since we're not leaving for a couple weeks we didn't actually have to say goodbye.

Speaking of goodbyes, we say goodbye to Scott today. We'll leave in a few minutes to take him to the airport. We'll see him next back in the U.S. in mid-July when his school term finishes. He had an exciting first half of his mid-term break, spending two weeks in Tanzania with his roommate's family. They camped at the beach, where he got to snorkel in the Indian Ocean and paraglide. Then he's had a quiet couple of weeks here in Kampala with us, although he did take that rafting trip down the Nile. We'll miss him, but we're glad he's going back to be with his friends at a school that has become a second home.

Lucy's story

2010-04-23T00:44:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to my Ugandan friend Lucy's house to pick up some sewing she had done for us. As we visited, I asked her how she had come to live in Kampala from her village about four hours away. Here is her story, the best I can remember it:

"We had three children at the time. My husband decided to go to Kampala to look for work. When he got to the city, he began to look around for a job. He didn't find work the first day, but he met a man from our tribe who said he could stay with him. After three days he still hadn't found work, and the man said he couldn't stay any longer. My husband slept in a tree that night, and continued to sleep there for a week. Then he found another man from our tribe who said he could help him paint. My husband began to sleep in the building where he was painting. Then he was invited to share the room of someone he was working with so he didn't have to sleep in the building any more.

A year had passed and I was pregnant with our fourth child. I hadn't heard from my husband for a long time and life was hard for me in the village. My husband said I should send the children to him. I put them on a boda boda (motorcycle) and told the man where in the city my husband would be. My husband was waiting there for the children when they arrived. A couple months later I gave birth to our child, a son. Not long after that I came to the city too.

We were all living in one room in the same man's house where my husband had been staying. One afternoon our baby became sick. He was very hot and wouldn't stop crying. My husband was at work and I didn't know what to do. I took the baby to a clinic where they gave him panadol (an analgesic) and chloraquine (the standard treatment for malaria. Almost any illness is routinely diagnosed and treated as malaria). The next night the baby was still sick and his eyes began to roll back in his head. We decided to go to the hospital and began to walk there. When we got there they tried to save my baby but he died. We went to the village to bury him.

When we returned to Kampala, we had been unable to pay our rent for three months. The landlord threatened to throw us out of our room. Shortly after, he came at four in the morning and told us we must leave. He locked the door behind us. It was raining and we had nowhere to go. The people who lived next to us came out and told us we could move in with them. They were a family living in one room, but they put a piece of fabric down the middle as a divider and we had one side and they had the other. There was little room to sleep, but my husband slept under the bed and the children slept together. So you can see it was a hard time for us. I don't like to think about it."

She told me this in a quiet, matter-of-fact way. It gave me a new perspective on her current home. When I first went there I was struck, as I generally am in Ugandan homes, with how little she had. But when I see where she has come from, I could see that it was an improvement.

By the way, at the end of our conversation she called her daughter, Joyce, into the room. Joyce stood shyly in front of me as Lucy asked me if I could find a sponsor to pay her school fees. Joyce is fifteen. Lucy said in her own family, girls never went to school beyond about sixth grade, but she wanted Joyce to be able continue her education. I felt for her, but was torn by the same feelings I have explained earlier in my post "The Lucy dilemma." How did I know the money someone sent would actually be used for Joyce's education? Why help Joyce and not someone else? If we helped Joyce, who would we be asked to help next in the unending quest for school fees? I decided to take a chance and talk frankly to Lucy and her son, Dennis, who was also in the room (he needs fees, too, by the way, to go to university) about my skepticism. They listened thoughtfully and said they understood, but that they were honest people. They offered to send receipts for donations and said the money could be deposited directly into the school's bank account. And so the needs go on...

On a last note, Paul got word today that the disabled man's trike is ready. Farouk is planning to go tomorrow and pick it up and take it to Rev. David. By next week, our friend whose name we don't know could have his new wheels.

Patent holder

2010-04-21T09:10:00.000-07:00

We have an inventor in the family! Many of you know that Paul started working on a home water-purification system about a year and a half ago. The idea was to use ultraviolet light to purify a couple liters of water at a time, using a hand crank for power. His hope was to provide another way besides boiling for people in third world countries to purify their water.

Getting a patent on this device has been a long and illuminating experience. Paul got word a couple days ago that the patent had been approved. There will still be some time and money involved before he has the patent in his hands, but it's coming. Paul would be the first to tell you that he has not come this far alone. There have been a number of talented and caring friends who have contributed along the way. Now, if we can just get the money to develop the product...anyone know any investors out there who want to save lives by giving people pure drinking water?

If you can't come up with an investor for us, how about a name for the invention? We've wracked our brains and come up blank. There's sure to be an...amazing...prize for the winner.

On another water-related note, scroll down a couple posts to learn about water improvements in Kapachirya, Uganda. For some reason the post was loaded out of order. You don't want to miss it!

Trouble at the gate

2010-04-20T04:35:00.000-07:00

Our group waiting at Bujagali Falls for Scott and Phil to raft down: Paul, Evelyn, Jonathan, Emily, and Danny.

Phil and Jonathan on Sunday morning (sorry, Phil, it's the only picture I have of you).

We were staying with our friends in Jinja, Phil and Emily, last Saturday night when we heard a ruckus at their gate. Earlier in the day Emily had told us that their Ugandan househelper, Jen, had been acting strangely. To back up, Jen has been working for Phil and Emily for the better part of a year, doing laundry, cooking, and childcare, and lives on their property. Emily had felt a real bond with Jen, but one day a few months ago Jen had been found, drunk, while the children were in her care. Phil and Emily were quite concerned, naturally, but after a lot of discussion and prayer, decided to let Jen stay on, though with significant restrictions. Things had been going well until Saturday. A couple people had said Jen seemed incoherent. She had a large bruise on her cheek, which she was cagey about how she got. She had "an orphan" who was suddenly staying with her, but when Emily asked her where she came from, Jen didn't seem to know, though she was crying that she was responsible for her now and didn't know how she could afford to support her.

Phil and Emily had gotten concerned enough about the situation that they decided to go visit a trusted neighbor, Agnes, about what to do. One of the things that's different about living here is that it's hard to know who you can rely on. The police? They're often on the take and have little power. The local government? They may be a better resource, because your local councilman (called the L.C. 1) probably knows everyone in his district and keeps tabs on what's happening. Phil had tried to call his, but there was no answer. Thus the trip to see Agnes. We stayed at home with Danny, an EMI intern who is living with Phil and Emily, and the kids, who were asleep.

Then came the loud voices at the gate. We went out to investigate and found Phil and Emily, Jen, Agnes, some hangers-on, and a woman who was exclaiming that the orphan that Jen had was her relative. She basically accused Jen of misappropriating the child, and accused Phil and Emily of being baby snatchers. This would be almost laughable, but in a country where witchcraft and child sacrifice exist, it can be a serious accusation. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that everyone except Phil, Emily, and Agnes was drunk. The woman threatened to return with the police. Interestingly, as soon as Jen had opened her door to this woman, the child had slipped out and run away. We still don't know who she was running from. Jen? The woman claiming to be her auntie? Fortunately, Agnes, the neighbor, was a voice of calm (and she spoke both English and the local language and so could communicate with everyone). Eventually the situation was defused and everyone went home.

I share this story because I think it's illustrative of how different life is here, and how complex it seems to us Westerners to figure out. Part of the strain of living overseas is that you can't read people or situations like you can at home. You feel like you're walking through fog, but fog that could explode.

Trying to help

2010-04-19T05:59:00.000-07:00

Do you believe in the providential hand of God in our lives? Although I'm a Christian, I'm hesitant to rush to attribute circumstances to the direct intervention of God. "It was meant to be" is not a phrase you will hear me utter casually. Nevertheless, we had an encouraging convergence of circumstances this weekend that just might get me to say it.

When my mom and brother were here in January, we took them to the Ngenge villages where Paul has his primary project to repair and replace broken wells. We spent a long day visiting various villages and seeing the work there. At the end of the day, when we were worn out and ready to get back to our guest house, Rev. David, the church of Uganda pastor who was translating for us and overseeing the work, said he needed to pick up some charcoal from his brother in a village further out. We drove at least another 45 minutes, in the opposite direction from home, to get to the village. I was crabby. This place hardly counted as a village. There were a handful of huts out in the middle of nowhere. While we were waiting for Rev. David to conduct his business, we noticed a man sitting on the ground on a cushion. Then we saw why. His legs didn't work. The man slowly began to make his way through the village, scooting on his rear end and pushing his useless legs in front of him. Although none of us said anything, we were transfixed and appalled. To spend your adult life on the ground, moving through the dirt - it seemed an unbearable way to live.

Later, when we were back to civilization, we talked about this. We all were concerned and wanted to try to do something. We asked Rev. David about the man, and he confirmed that it was a disease (polio?) that robbed him of the use of his legs, and said he was acquainted with the man. We began to look online for an organization that would provide a wheelchair in Uganda but only hit dead ends. I asked a friend of ours who has been a doctor in Uganda for many years, but he didn't know of any place to get one. There are no such things as medical supply stores here. We couldn't think of where else to turn. Then, when we were on our way to Jinja this weekend, on a whim Paul asked Farouk, our favorite driver (he's the one who took up a collection for us when we were out of money on our first safari) if he knew of anywhere to get a wheelchair. He said yes, he did, and in fact they were manufactured in Jinja, practically right across the street from where we were going. He took us there when we arrived in town, and we were able to sit right down with a worker and talk through options. She suggested that an adult disability trike would be better than a wheelchair, because it had space to carry things, so the person could perhaps begin to support himself financially by being able to transport, say, soda or clothing for sale. It could be ready in a week. Farouk, amazingly, offered to oversee transportation for us. Once the trike was ready he would travel to Jinja and have it loaded on a matatu, then travel with it the 5 hours to Kapchorwa, where Rev. David would meet him and take it from there.

Although this all seemed good, we hesitated. Westerners do so many good deeds with the best of intentions in Africa, and then they backfire. There are unintended negative consequences. We left the shop without making a decision because we wanted to talk both to Farouk and to our Jinja friends who grew up in Africa and understood the culture better than we did. Would people in the village be jealous of the man's gift? Would it get stolen? Break down? What could go wrong that we weren't thinking of? As we talked it through, both Farouk, and Phil and Emily, encouraged us that the potential benefit was worth the potential risk. I asked Farouk the question that had been bothering me since the day we saw this man: I understand that the villagers are poor, but why in the world had nobody done anything more for this man than get him a cushion? Families pull together to help each other in Africa. Couldn't they pool their resources to get him some wheels to attach to a board? How is it that he had had nothing done for him for years? Farouk's answer was basically that Africans often just don't think of it. There is a warm-heartedness in Westerners that Africans lack (mind you, this is a Ugandan telling me this). Even if the man's brother had money, he might spend it buying dresses for his wives rather than on his needy brother. Maybe if the man had voted for a politician then the politician would help him out as payback but not otherwise. These were Farouk's examples. We've seen Africans be generous with family or tribe members in need, but it wasn't happening here.

We went back the next day and ordered the trike. We'll contact Farouk when it's ready and he'll oversee transportation. We hope and pray that it will benefit the man. It was too hopeful an opportunity to pass up.

Ngenge water: Training and repairs in Kapachirya

2010-04-19T04:05:00.000-07:00

Kapachirya is one of the Ngenge villages. It has close to 300 residents, 81 of whom attended the water and sanitation hygiene (WASH) training that was given by the Sebei Diocese.

The top photo shows Eunice from the Diocese using the three-pile sort, audience participation technique to categorize pictures showing various hygiene practices into Bad, In-Between, and Good. The course allowed the villagers to describe actual practices and helped them recognize ways to improve. Some of the findings:

The village has no hand-washing stations--none at all
Consequently, washing hands following the use of latrines (or the bush) was not practiced by anyone
Water is mishandled from the borehole to the time of use; for example, the same container may be used one time to collect river water (for laundry or irrigating crops) and then used the next time to collect potable water from the borehole
Unwashed fruits contribute to poor hygiene (unwashed vegetables are not usually a problem as they are cooked)
It's a challenge for most people in Kapachirya to afford toilet paper and it's not often used

The next two photos show repairs underway for the Kapachirya borehole, followed by the test pumping. (It appears that Michael Jordan has not cornered the market on the sticking-out-the-tongue method for improving concentration.) Unfortunately, the well repair was only partially successful. It now produces about 3.3 liters per minute. That's much better than 0 liters per minute, which was the rate beforehand, and the villagers were thrilled to have a nearby source of water after going without for more than two years. But it's not the 10 liters per minute that we target for a borehole with a hand pump.

Quite a crowd gathered as the repairs were in progress. The children entertained us with singing and dancing (what a delightful aspect of Ugandan culture) and Karen entertained them by leading them in the song, "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes." It turns out they knew it already but with slightly different words. Small world.

Scott rafts the Nile River

2010-04-18T04:49:00.000-07:00

This is Scott; Mom wanted me to write about rafting. Reluctantly i agreed but all you readers will have to pardon any grammatical errors 'cause on my blog i don't do any of this grammar nonsense. that's all for tools. anyway. yeah i got to go rafting on the nile. it was one of the things i wanted to do most whilst (what a fun word) in Uganda. we went up to Phil and Emily's house and stayed with them for the sole purpose of me getting to raft. they live in Jinja by the way which is where the rafting starts. i'll skip over the details of being in Jinja cause i'm sure my mom can fill that in. so as for saturday (rafting day) we got started about 8:30 driving to the rafting place. of course we had to wait there for like an hour to actually begin. then when we finally drove to the put in, we still had to raft about 4 km whilst learning how to paddle, swim, float and other such extremely important but totally boring necessities. it was all totally worth it though once we got to the rapids. there are twelve major rapids that we cover with Nile River Explorers company, all class 4 and 5 . Phil and I specifically profiled all the other rafters to find the most hardcore group. we got what we wanted too. this included being set up with the craziest guide out there, a native Ugandan gymnast named Nathan. he made sure we hit all the rapids in the way most likely to frighten us or better yet, flip us (we only flipped twice, both caused intentionally by our guide). my favorite rapids were two class fives, one quite long one called silverback which was straight up long and challenging and another called overtime which is a rapid leading up to a 4 meter waterfall which we completed successfully. the whole trip was extremely cold. it was just a cloudy cold day. the rafting was the best though; i doubt any rafting trip in my life will compare.

The wedding

2010-04-16T02:43:00.000-07:00

Semei and Winnie after the wedding. Aren't those kids cute in front of them? The wedding was a lot like an American wedding, with music, an exchange of rings, vows, and a sermon.

The wedding cakes at the reception

The wedding dinner was served buffet style. The food was similar to what we had at the introduction the night before. Starting with the potato at the top of the plate (referred to as "Irish" in Uganda, as in "Do you want Irish or posho with your sauce?") and moving clockwise, there's matooke (cooked plantains) with groundnut sauce, rice, chapatti (Indian flatbread), and pumpkin and mixed vegetables.

Semei's introduction budget

2010-04-16T02:35:00.000-07:00

We thought you might be interested in the budget Semei had for his wedding introduction. This is what he passed around the EMI office so that people could contribute. The "gifts" are what Semei paid for the bride price.

Introduction Ceremony

Item		Amount (Ugandan Shillings)	Amount (US$)
Gomas
	Aunts’ gomas	200,000	$100
	Mothers’ gomas	320,000	$160
	Grands’gomas	80,000	$40
Kanzu
	Fathers’	180,000	$90
	In-laws	160,000	$80
	Prize	350,000	$175
	Goat	100,000	$50
Gifts
	Sodas (crates)	195,000	$98
	Sukaali/sugar (kg)	140,000	$70
	Omuceere/rice (kg)	150,000	$75
	Emigaati/bread (loaves)	23,000	$12
	Cooking oil (liters)	70,000	$35
	Salt (cartons)	45,000	$23
	Margarine (case)	70,000	$35
	Curry/Ryco (case)	35,000	$18
	Ebibala/fruits, allowance	50,000	$25
	Matooke, allowance	50,000	$25
	Tea leaves (box packets)	20,000	$10
	Cock	15,000	$8
	Envelopes	50,000	$25
	Cow’s thigh	150,000	$75
	Baskets	100,000	$50
	Certificate	20,000	$10
Photography
	Still Photos	200,000	$100
	Video Coverage	200,000	$100
Other
	Transport	350,000	$175
	Paraffin (candles)	38,000	$19
	MC	100,000	$50
	Soap, boxes	70,000	$35
	Miscellaneous	100,000	$50
TOTAL		3,631,000	$1,816

Last of the introduction

2010-04-15T06:05:00.000-07:00

These are the bridesmaids in one of several outfits they wore. They danced in (no one walked, everyone danced), knelt down in front of the groom's side, and received gifts. The man behind the bridesmaids with the microphone was the MC for the bride's side. I don't know what the man next to him did but he sat there through the whole ceremony.

Here are the bride price gifts after we paraded them in. The basket in the middle holds chickens. We set them in front of the bride and her aunts.

It's not all glamor and glory being at an introduction. There had been a downpour just before we arrived and the road and yard around the bride's simple concrete house were a muddy mess. We had to walk a little way from where we parked to where we sat, with this result.

Introduction #2

2010-04-12T09:52:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post, the introduction ceremony is the formal meeting of the bride's and groom's families. Of course, in reality the families met long ago. Once a man proposes, or, in more traditional families, once the marriage is arranged, negotiations begin. The bride price and details of the introduction and wedding ceremonies are discussed and agreed upon, and family and friends are asked for contributions. Semei, the groom for who works for EMI, sent his budget around the office so people could pick out what they'd like to pay for.

At the introduction itself, there are all kinds of traditions, only some of which we understood. A man in the row ahead of Paul and me turned around frequently to explain what was happening. The bride’s and groom’s families are seated opposite each other. There is an MC from each side, and they keep up a steady pace of talk. The bride is sequestered through the first half of the ceremony, and the groom is sitting, incognito, in the middle of his family. Eventually the bride’s “aunties” are called forward. Their task is to pick the groom out of the crowd, as shown in first and second photos. This is meant to verify that the groom is known by elders in the bride’s family and thus is approved. He is then seated in the front row and his bride comes out to him.

This is the bride, Winnie, and her brother. Unfortunately, I don’t have a good picture of the bride and groom together. Compared to American traditions, the bride and groom don’t focus much on each other. When they are together, they are often honoring elder family members by bowing or giving gifts. I noticed that even when Winnie was standing directly in front of Semei, she didn’t make eye contact. I think in “real life” they’re more Western in the way they interact, but there was a certain circumspection called for in the ceremony and they complied.

Introducing the introduction

2010-04-11T06:14:00.000-07:00

Here are two of the EMI interns dressing for the introduction. The extra fabric is folded in an accordion pleat and held in place by the belt. You're supposed to wear what amounts to a blanket underneath the gomesi for padding (Ugandans like their women to be, shall we say, substantial) but we passed on that.

Paul in his kanzu and me in my gomesi. This was taken at the EMI office, where we gathered before the ceremony.

The introduction ceremony is when the bride's and groom's families formally meet. This one took place in the bride's village in the front yard of a home. Part way through the ceremony the women parade in with the dowry (men help with heavy things like the 50 lb. sack of sugar and the leg of beef). Our baskets mostly held everyday foods like cabbage and bread. There were also two live chickens that were ceremoniously handed over.

The Lucy dilemma

2010-04-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

Lucy's family beading in her living room/workshop/display room.

Lucy teaching Paul to roll a paper bead.

Last Saturday when we went to Lucy's home to pick up my gomesi we stayed and visited for awhile. Paul got to meet Lucy's husband, Nelson, and their extended family. Lucy and Nelson have five children of their own and about another five children of relatives who live with them. Everyone helps support the family by making paper bead necklaces. I was surprised and pleased to learn that Lucy had learned bead making from Bead for Life, the organization I volunteer for. She has since gone to her home village and taught the women to bead. Now they send her the necklaces they make, as well as other handicrafts, and she sells them from her home and at craft markets to help the women support their families. Someone has also set up a web site for her. You can take a look if you want at womenwithhope.jimdo.com. Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that if you were to buy from her you would get what you ordered. International shipping is difficult for an individual to guarantee, though she tells me she has managed it successfully.

Lucy personifies for me much of what is good and what is distressing about Ugandan life. Her husband is the pastor of a small independent church and they live on almost nothing. Her living room has one broken down wicker settee which is covered with a tattered piece of foam, and a couple plastic lawn chairs. Her bedroom, the other room in the house, has a bed. There are nails in the wall from which they hang their clothes. The only item of value I saw was a small tv. (Nelson said they watch CNN and wanted to know why, since the U.S. has a two-party political system, there was a Tea Party as well.) There are several other small concrete buildings on their compound, where I assume the children sleep. Although they have so little, they are obviously the well-to-do among their family because they are supporting these other children. Not only that, they're reaching out to help their villagers with the beading project and with a school which they are starting. So far they've only been able to pay for teachers for the first couple primary grades. There are no books or any other supplies. There may not even be a building.

The distressing part of this is that we, as Westerners, are looked upon automatically as patrons. Ugandans believe in indirect communication, so they don't come right out and ask, but they hint broadly that you could help them. Their need for school fees for the children quickly comes up. Lucy took me into her bedroom, took my hands in hers, looked directly into my eyes and said, "See how I live. I want you to be able to testify to people that, even though I am a pastor's wife, this is all I have." The implication is clear and compelling: if we chose to we could ease their suffering. The problem we face with that is twofold. Yes, we could help them, but their neighbor's need is equally compelling, as is the need of each villager in Ngenge where Paul works, and the need of our househelper's sister, who ran away from her husband who beat her. The needs are overwhelming and immediate. The second problem, and I'm not going to mince words here, is that many Ugandans will lie to you to get your money. Lucy seems honest and from the asking around I've done her story holds up, but you never know. So many well-intentioned Westerners have been ripped off by falling for sad stories. What a shame. Honest people will go wanting because dishonest people ruin trust. It's a story as old as time and as widespread as the whole world.

In this situation, we actually have a fairly easy path forward. Lucy is doing sewing for us and we will buy a generous amount of crafts from her to bring home. By not just giving money, but by supporting her work, we feel that we can legitimately help her. It won't be all she hopes for, but it will be a step forward.

Let the festivities begin

2010-04-05T04:18:00.000-07:00

My new friend, Lucy, who helped me shop for fabric and had my dress made by a seamstress she knows.

On a boda boda, ready for the ride home from Lucy's. Fortunately, the driver hung up before we left.

On Saturday Paul and I went to "pick" (no one picks up anything here) my gomesi. A gomesi, pronounced "gomez" as far as I can tell, is the Ugandan traditional dress. It's funky. The puffed sleeves and wide belt just aren't a flattering style. At least the fabric's nice.

I got it because we're going to a Ugandan wedding this coming Friday and Saturday. Semei, the office manager at EMI, is getting married. Paul already has his kanzu and sportcoat, the traditional outfit for men. A kanzu is a long white tunic. We'll post his picture soon.

We can wear Western clothes for the wedding on Saturday, but we were told we ought to have traditional dress for the introduction on Friday. We're not entirely sure how an introduction works. What we know of it so far is that it's the formal meeting of the bride's and groom's families. It's also the time when the groom's family parades all they've brought for the bride price before the bride's family. Cows, goats, clothing, and money are often a part of the bride price. We talked to friends who had gone to an introduction awhile back and, even though the families were well-to-do, the bride price still involved large sacks of sugar and laundry detergent. One of the Ugandan women who works for EMI said her bride price was 12 cows, 10 goats, and some money. The practice of paying a bride price shows no signs of abating. It recompenses a bride's family for the expense they've had in raising her and demonstrates that her groom considers her valuable.

Introduction ceremonies can be long. The same friends who saw the sugar and laundry soap brought in left their introduction ceremony unfashionably early after four hours. We suspect there will be speeches. We'll be attending with others from EMI, so at least we'll know a few people to talk to. It's an honor to be included, and I'm looking forward to it.

Kampala Fred Meyer

2010-04-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

Fred Meyer is a grocery chain everyone in the Pacific Northwest knows, the home of "one-stop shopping." Embassy Market is our local version here in Kampala. It has a variety store upstairs and groceries downstairs. There's a good selection of foods that are familiar to Westerners, including peanut butter, spaghetti sauce, and Kelloggs breakfast cereals. Of course, you pay for what's familiar: a small box of corn flakes is about $6.00.

iPhone for the Faucet

2010-03-30T06:15:00.000-07:00

The iPhone took the world by force. What a cool invention! Is there room for an iPhone advancement in drinking water treatment for the developing world?

Some of you know that I joined the inventor's marathon a couple years back. I was naive before. I thought you just needed a good idea. That would be a 100 meter sprint. Instead, it's a marathon of patent filings, building prototypes, performing lab tests, writing business plans, and--the biggest challenge--finding money. Thanks to a good friend, Chris, and the assistance of Oregon State University and University of Denver, the early steps have been achieved. I'm still working on finding money to develop the idea into a product.

The idea is a household water treatment unit that uses ultraviolet light to disinfect water and is powered by a hand-crank or bicycle. It sounds more complicated than it is and you can see that in the photos of the prototype. It just might make sense in a city like Kampala. One hundred percent of the Ugandans that I quizzed said they treat the water coming out of the city system (with good reason, I would add). Most boil their drinking water using charcoal stoves. This costs money, takes time, uses up scarce firewood, and results in health problems from indoor air pollution. The use of UV disinfection in place of boiling and powering it by a hand-crank or bicycle, since most Kampala residents don't have electricity, makes sense.

To work, the product needs to be durable, find user acceptance, provide reliable treatment, and be affordable. I think the idea achieves all four. I've been in touch with potential investors and hope that one of these organizations or companies decides to fund its development. Then, we'll know.

By the way, most of the Ugandans that I interviewed obtain city water from a community tap. They don't have the luxury of running water in their homes. The bottom photo shows the community tap across the road from our apartment. Not having running water--meaning no flush toilet and no sink to wash your hands or dishes--is a huge thing.

Transportation

2010-03-28T06:20:00.000-07:00

Four cases of pop or beer being transported. We send our corner boda boda guys to pick up a box of water, case of pop, or even a large tank of propane for us. At least they're on motorcycles, not on bikes. Probably the biggest single item I've seen transported on a bike is a twin bed. We've also seen loads of lumber and sugar cane, a door, and a plate glass window.

This boy is pushing about 200 lbs. of water

How can she balance a jerry can with over 40 lbs. of water on her head? I never cease to be amazed. And Ugandans are amazed that we can't carry anything on our heads.

Safari photos

2010-03-25T09:21:00.001-07:00

A hippo grazing outside our patio door, with the Nile River in the background.

This is a Maribou Stork, possibly the ugliest bird in the world.

On safari: Paul, me, sister Mary, cousin Julie, brother Jim, sister-in-law Vanessa, and cousin-in-law Steve. We had hopped out of the safari van to get a closer look at some giraffes.

Visit to Bishop Salimo

2010-03-22T01:36:00.000-07:00

Paul's sister, Mary, cousin, Julie, and brother's wife, Vanessa

Bishop Salimo and wife, Zelda, receiving microscope from Paul

Paul's work on boreholes for the Ngenge villages is done under the auspices of the Church of Uganda (Anglican). We have enjoyed getting to know the clergy with whom he has worked and have great respect for them and their commitment to helping the people in the area.

Last Wednesday, while Paul's family was here, we all visited the villages to check on the progress of borehole repairs. Bishop Salimo invited us to come for dinner afterward. To tell the truth, by the time the long day was over in the villages we were all worn out and I don't think any of us was excited about the dinner. However, we knew it was gracious of the Bishop to have invited us and so we went, hot, dirty, thirsty, and hungry.

There were nine of us in our group, including Rev. David, who had spent the day with us, and our driver, Ojoko. There were probably another five guests already there, plus the Bishop and his wife, Zelda. We sat in their living room, which was large compared to others I've been in. The t.v. was tuned to news and it was hard not to look at it. A young woman brought around a tub and pitcher, and we washed our hands. Meanwhile, Steve, Paul's cousin-in-law, had been outside trying to rearrange the group's flight schedule (their flight home was canceled due to the British Airways strike). He walked back in just when it was his turn for hand-washing. The girl had set the tub on the floor for a moment. Steve had only seen tubs used for foot-washing ceremonies at churches, so he was just about to step into the tub when he caught on that it was only for hands. We got a good laugh afterward thinking about what a surprise he would have given the Ugandans.

Zelda brought out pot after pot of food: matooke, rice, and potatoes, which are standard Ugandan starches, stewed chicken (Mary noticed it was all the parts of the chicken), chappatis (a common flatbread), soup, and fried cabbage. It was quite a feast and generally familiar and tasty. As seems typical, Zelda sat the food on the large coffee tables in the center of the room, and we sat on couches along the walls to eat.

After dinner we exchanged gifts. Paul's family had brought lots of great little things from the States, things like keychains, pocket knives, and post cards, so we handed those out. Paul also gave the Bishop a microscope which had been donated by OSU and which we passed along to the girls' school that the diocese supports. The Bishop and Zelda gave us two large bunches of bananas, and lots of local coffee, both whole beans and ground.

Karen

More Bergs descend on Uganda

2010-03-21T07:28:00.000-07:00

The teacher in Kapachirya (the woman on the left in the photo) got the children started singing and dancing for us. They immediately formed themselves into two rows with the taller children in back. She would sing a phrase and they would answer back.

This past week was a full one for us. We got visitors: Paul's sister, Mary; brother, Jim, and his wife Vanessa; and his cousin, Julie, and her husband Steve. We took them to the Ngenge villages where Paul's primary project is located, then on a safari at Murchison Falls. The village part wasn't your typical vacation, but they rolled with the punches and soaked it all in, much as my mom and brother had done when they visited. We saw plenty of animals on the safari and as close as you could ask for. We'll post more pictures and details over the next few days, but here are some pictures to get you started.

Sorry, in this entry the photos and text are not where I want them to be but I can't fix it!

Jim, Mary, and Julie in the safari van

We saw six lions, three one day and three the next. This photo was not taken with a telephoto lense. At one point our van was so close to the lions that I closed the window because one was crouched down, staring me right in the eyes, and I felt like with one spring she could have me. I didn't want to be dinner!

Hiring Practices

2010-03-12T05:14:00.000-08:00

For no particular reason, I've been thinking back lately to a conversation I had with two of EMI's Ugandan workers, Stephen and Janet. Stephen is the head of the guards and Janet is the cook. Janet had mentioned that if she knew of a job opening at a place she worked, she would naturally recommend a relative. I asked, "What if you knew the relative (say his name is Robert) was lazy or dishonest? Would you still recommend him?" She thought for a moment, then answered that she would, because after all he was a relative, but would warn him to be careful.

I pressed her a little further to find out what would happen if the boss found out Robert was indeed lazy or dishonest and fired him. I was thinking that her answer would focus on the negative opinion her boss would form of her for having recommended him, but she said maybe Robert would go back to the family and tell them that she didn't look out for him, that she "didn't love him." I may be drawing a wrong conclusion, but it seems like what's most important is the family, both in getting the job and in their opinion of you.

Stephen brought up a reason that it benefits employers to hire employees' relatives. If the new hire does turn out to be bad and runs off, their family member on your staff knows where to find them. In a country with few addresses in the city and none in the villages, it makes sense.

On a completely unrelated subject, I'd like to tell you about my invisibility glasses. I can put them on anytime and disappear. I use them most when I'm tired of being the only white person around - when I'm the only white in a matatu, or when I feel like I'm the only white in all of downtown Kampala. I use them when I'm tired of boda boda drivers calling out to me, "Yes, mzungu, yes sistah." I use them when I want to blend in but can't. They look like sunglasses - but they're not. They're my invisibility glasses, and they're handy to have.

Karen

Ngenge water: Repair of the Cheborom borehole

2010-03-11T00:42:00.001-08:00

Cheborom borehole prior to repairs. Some of the village huts are visible in the distance.

The concrete base was cracked

Repair work drew a crowd

The new pump ready for lowering into the well

Ngenge water: Borehole repairs

2010-03-11T00:22:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to report that 13 boreholes have been repaired in the Ngenge valley and we're hoping that the 14th is completed by the end of next week. These 14 boreholes hugely benefit the 4000 people they serve. They eliminate the 1-3 mile walks to fetch clean water. They make it feasible to collect enough water so that people use some for hand-washing and cleaning dishes. They foster hope.

The photos, from top to bottom, show the four newly-trained hand pump mechanics, lowering the replacement riser pipe, and test pumping the Chepsikunya borehole after completion. It works!

Ngenge water--training is the cornerstone

2010-03-10T04:28:00.000-08:00

Imagine your schools without safe drinking water or bathrooms. Imagine a village whose borehole (well) is broken and the closest one is 3 miles away. Imagine struggling to pay 25 cents a month for your water. Imagine owning a single water container, one that's used for collecting drinking water from your village borehole and also for collecting river water for laundry.

These challenges present formidable challenges to a healthy lifestyle. Our goal in the Ngenge water project is to involve the whole community and encourage healthy practices in addition to repairing broken boreholes. Water and sanitation hygiene (WASH) training and water management committee training was provided in each location where a borehole was repaired. WASH training explains safe practices for collecting, transporting, and storing drinking water, hand-washing, the use of latrines, and other similar topics. The water management training assists villagers in learning how to care for their borehole and to set up a fund to pay for maintenance and repairs.

Both training programs used drama, poems, singing, and other participatory methods, as pictured in the top two photos. It is crucial to involve women, such as the five women of one of the village water committees who are shown in the bottom photo. Women shoulder the responsibility for collecting and using water.

Water engineers have more fun

2010-03-07T09:02:00.000-08:00

I know that all of you faithful readers have been lying in bed wondering, where does Kijabe Hospital get their water? I know! They use three springs and one borehole. (All four of my kids are seriously rolling their eyes at me upon reading this.)

There is some truth to this blog title. I've looked at some spectacular water sources, way up in the hills and mountains, far above human activities, because naturally it's desirable to collect the cleanest possible water. One of the Kijabe Hospital springs is located high in the hills in the background above the man on the left. We weren't at the hospital long enough to hike to this source. It's about a 5-hour round trip. We did get to visit another spring, Monkey Corner Spring. True to its name, we saw monkeys in the trees above.

The hospital staff is concerned that inadequate water will limit their expansion plans. I'll be helping them assess that concern. In the meantime, one of my recommendations was for them to add chlorination to the hospital water system. The springs are not 100% protected from contamination and the many storage tanks may also allow contamination from time to time. These concerns were borne out by recent failures in bacteriological tests. A hospital setting certainly warrants safe drinking water.

Polygamy and witchcraft

2010-03-06T05:16:00.000-08:00

The HBO series "Big Love" and the president of South Africa, Jacob Zuma, have both contributed to bringing polygamy back into the news. Zuma was asked while in England recently about his polygamous marriage, and he attributed Westerners' discomfort with the practice to a disconnect in cultural understanding between the West and Africa.

We were at dinner last night with a South African woman, so we asked her opinion. She seemed to feel that, Biblical prohibitions notwithstanding, there are worse things in the world than polygamy. She wondered which was worse, the frank polygamy practiced in parts of Africa or the de facto serial polygamy of divorcing one wife to move on to the next. Interestingly, she observed that the greatest evil that she had seen resulting from polygamy was its connection, without exception in her experience, with witchcraft. Wives will call on witchdoctors to improve their standing with the husband and also to harm the children of the other wives.

People's attempts to access an evil supernatural realm causes very real harm. In today's newspaper there was an article about children in Congo who are accused of being witches by their families. They are cast out of the family and sometimes even killed. In Uganda, children are still killed for body parts, especially internal organs, to be used in witchcraft rituals. People want to become rich or they want someone to blame for misfortune, and they blame witches. The minister at our church lives on a hilltop where animals are sacrificed and has described going and talking with the people to try to dissuade them from the practice (I didn't get the impression he'd been successful).

Karen

Last of the banquet photos

2010-03-04T05:18:00.000-08:00

I like this photo of the boys waiting outside the girls' dorm. Scott is on the right and Chase on the left. We moms had made all the corsages and boutonnieres to order. The boys got called in in pairs to meet their dates and walk them across campus to the banquet facility. Practically the whole campus community turned out to watch and clap as the students walked by. It really was a fun evening.

Kijabe Hospital--numbers and names

2010-03-04T03:24:00.000-08:00

Numbers:

265 beds (many in the hallways)
11,000 in-patients in 2009
350 out-patient visits per day
40 Kenyan hospitals obtain pathology services from Kijabe Hospital (KH)
5 operating rooms; 9000 surgeries in 2009
24-inches--about the average spacing between beds
10 babies per day born in KH
$80 for a CT scan
600 staff; 35-40 doctors (1/2 half expat's, 1/2 East Africans), 160 nurses
30-35 graduates each year from their nursing program

Names:

Dr. Jerry. Since retiring 10 years ago, he and his wife have spent 3 months each year volunteering at the hospital. He's a pathologist. She entertains children in the pediatrics ward with crafts and games.
Dr. Charlie. After serving at KH for several years, he's now involved in administration and is the only expat serving on the board. In the midst of visiting his home and enjoying tea and cucumber sandwiches (they're British, after all), he fielded a call asking about payment terms for a young boy flown in from Somalia for treatment of a gunshot wound--a glimpse of his responsibilities. (They are treating this 9-year old, both for his immediate wounds and with follow-up plastic surgery to repair his face.)

Dr. Mark. He's an anesthesiologist who has worked at KH since 1997. His focus has shifted from patient care to training. Kenya has an acute shortage of anesthesiologists. Mark began training nurses in this practice and his second class of 15 finished this February. A terrific accomplishment, but it was Mark's obvious compassion for patients that impressed me the most. As he gave us a tour of the hospital, he continually placed his hand on one shoulder after another while speaking comforting words (in Swahili, but you could hear the kindness in his voice). He's pictured in the black and white photo, above.

Back to Junior Banquet

2010-03-03T05:49:00.000-08:00

Scott and his roommate, Chase

Paul went to the dorm ahead of time to help boys tie ties and get ready

Scott and his date, Rachel

Kijabe Hospital

2010-03-01T22:45:00.000-08:00

Kijabe Hospital began as a small clinic in 1913, established to serve the Rift Valley Academy boarding school (where Scott attends) and local community. It was expanded to an in-patient hospital in the 1950s and now serves thousands of patients each year. No one is turned away for lack of money.

It's like no hospital you'll see in the U.S., with its mish-mash of buildings, crowds waiting at the door, patients resting in beds in hallways everywhere, and drying laundry scattered about the campus. The "mish-mash" is why we were here. They've modified and expanded buildings as money became available and a doctor or nurse had a vision for meeting additional needs. The facilities are not well-organized and the board wants to do better.

It was both honoring and humbling to assist the hospital with understanding their facility needs and to help them plan for improvements and expansion. Our team included surveyors, architects, mechanical and electrical engineers, and a couple of us to assess their water and wastewater systems. We were surrounded all week by people, both expat's and East Africans, who have sacrificed more comfortable lifestyles elsewhere to serve the poor. Kijabe Hospital is a great success story and we look forward to providing more details in the next few days.

Paul

Banquet week at Rift Valley Academy

2010-02-16T03:26:00.000-08:00

Scott's roommate Chase is to his left.

We've been having a good time with Scott at RVA. Every year the juniors put on a big banquet for the seniors, and junior parents come help with the preparations. I couldn't understand what kind of banquet could take a week to prepare for until I saw what they do. It's pretty amazing. They essentially make an auditorium into a scene from whatever theme is chosen for the year (I can't divulge this year's theme - you never know what lurkers read your blog). Murals on four walls, a floor-to-ceiling paper mache mountain, the entire ceiling and walls covered in fabric - this is big. It's been great to see the kids in action and enjoy the camaraderie with kids and parents.

Many of these parents are amazing people who work steadfastly to honor God and serve people in difficult and remote places. I had a long talk last night while we were scrubbing paint off the floor with a man who runs a youth center in Ethiopia. Besides all the work related to the youth center, he and his wife have helped several disabled women start small businesses. These are women who, because of their disabilities, have been rejected by their families and would barely have been able to eke out a living. Another family has done medical work in central Congo for 15 years, in an isolated and challenging location. I think what strikes me is that no one seems to feel what they're doing is especially impressive. They've all given up comfortable American lives to help people. Missionaries get a bad rap sometimes, and they're certainly not perfect, but I've come away with an increased admiration for them.

While Scott and the other students are back in class for the week, Paul and I don't have as much to do. In an odd twist, RVA, which has clean water from wells, has had some contamination in the last couple days. Paul has been able to consult with them on how to deal with it. As for me, it looks like I'll be subbing in some of the classes. I'm scheduled to cover for the U.S. history teacher for the remainder of the week. You can imagine what a thrill it is for Scott to have his mother be his sub.

Linguistics

2010-02-10T06:15:00.000-08:00

Did you know that the official language of Uganda is English? Many people here speak a local language as their first language, but school, business, and government are carried out in English. It's British English rather than American English, but mostly it's Ugandan English.

One of the characteristics of Ugandan pronunciation is that the "er" sound is pronounced "ah" (as I explained at some length to Mom and Ken when they were trapped in the car with me and couldn't escape). This has tripped me up more than once.

Today I was riding with one of our regular special hire drivers, Havert. He began to chat with me and observed that, "There are no vistas now." I was surprised at his use of the word "vistas" since his English is pretty limited. Also, I was confused about where the vistas had gone. Was he referring to pollution obscuring them? Then I realized "vistas" was "visitors" and he was trying to comment on the fact that my mom and brother had left and we had no more company.

Another time we were downtown with a different special hire driver, one we'd never had before. His English was good, but he had me stumped when he asked if we'd seen the "big bads." My mind went immediately to Uganda's politicians, but it's unusual to talk politics with strangers, so I figured that wasn't it. Paul and Scott realized before I did that he was talking about the large, funny looking Maribou storks that fly over downtown, the "big birds." Sometimes I end up trying to fix my face in a non-committal expression and murmur something generic when I just can't figure out what they're trying to say. I'm sure they do the same for me.

Stay tuned for when I explain the difference between "okay," "that's okay," and "it's okay." It will be riveting.

On a different subject, we had dinner last Friday with a couple from Corvallis who are here to volunteer in Uganda for a few weeks, he as an orthopedic surgeon and she as an educator. They brought us an envelope Carl had sent along with New Yorker magazines for me and tax statements for Paul. One of us was happy for the envelope. They are a delightful couple and we thoroughly enjoyed our time with them. Thanks, Leon and Joanne!

Also, we leave Fri. morning for three weeks in Kenya. Half the time we'll be at RVA, Scott's school, helping prepare for the big high school banquet, and the other half Paul will be working on a project next door at Kijabe Hospital. We're looking forward to the change of pace being there will provide, and also, of course, to seeing Scott. He finally came down with the swine flu that felled a large portion of the school, but had a mild case so should be good to go for the banquet.

Ngenge water: more on the training

2010-02-07T02:33:00.000-08:00

Our project to improve the water supply in the Ngenge villages includes training four individuals as hand pump mechanics. Classroom lessons, pictured above, will be followed by hands-on participation in repairing pumps that are currently broken.

The commonly used hand pump in this region and throughout much of Africa is the India Mark II. It's an appropriate and durable technology but like any mechanical system, it wears out over time. A brand-new pump lasts 2-4 years before maintenance is needed. Since some are used continuously from sunrise to sunset, it's not surprising that they don't last forever. The top photo shows the beehive of activity that's common around a village well.

The four trainees, with their ages and village names, are:

David Chelangat (32, Korite Village)
Loya Cheptectei (22, Chepsukunya Village)
Amos Labu (25, Kaptulel Village)
Alex Chebet (21, Kapkware Village)

More graft and corruption

2010-02-05T05:08:00.000-08:00

Are you tired of our posts about corruption in Uganda? I tell you, we're tired of seeing it. From the top to the bottom, it's endemic.

We have a friend who heads up the office of a Danish engineering firm here in Uganda. The firm has a policy of not paying bribes. The result of that policy is that they get no Ugandan government work. None. You can't do business with the government if you don't pay bribes. We were taken aback by the example he gave. The firm submitted a proposal for an engineering project (just as Paul does regularly for CH2M HILL when he's in the U.S.) and were not selected. The reason given was that their proposal was incomplete. The friend met with the officials to debrief and realized that someone on the receiving end had simply torn out and discarded pages from their proposal containing required information. Since they had not paid the bribe, they weren't in the game.

Today I was at the children's clothing store where I occasionally volunteer. Our store is located next to an orphanage, and all the proceeds of sales go to help cover medical costs for the orphans. We visited the orphanage when we were finished working today, and one of my co-workers noticed that there was a storage room with a large amount of used clothing piled up in it. She asked one of the women who helps run the orphanage about it, and the woman assured her that those clothes had been donated directly to the orphanage for the use of the orphans. After we left, my friend shook her head and said, "I'm sure those clothes are for our shop, but the orphanage workers keep them to sell them on the side." Everyone seems to be on the take.

The thing is, it's more complicated than this just being simple corruption. From what we've read and seen in action, the traditional African thought about money is that "anyone's money is everyone's money." If you have money or goods, it's understood that you will share with your family and tribe. For example, in some African languages, the word for "refrigerator" is the same one as the word for "greedy." Why would you have a refrigerator to keep food in? If you have food, you share it until it's gone. If you have a party and there are leftovers, you give them out to those around you rather than save them for yourself for the next day. At Bead For Life, one of the most frequent uses we see for the increased income women gain is to pay school fees for more relatives' children. When you get married, you hold meetings to collect money from family, friends, and co-workers to pay for the wedding. There are few social services provided by the government, but people provide for each other as much as they can.

We actually benefited from this sharing mentality when we went on our safari with our kids in December. Somehow we had significantly underestimated the amount of cash we needed for the trip. Remember, you can't use credit cards in Uganda-everything is done on a cash basis. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no ATMs to be found, and we didn't have the money we needed for park entrance fees, food, lodging, etc. Paul mentioned our dilemma to Farouk, our driver. Pretty soon Farouk pulled into a sort of ranger station, and 15 minutes later he came out with a wad of cash in his hand. He explained that he told his friends at the station (it helps that Farouk knows everyone in Uganda on a first-name basis) that he'd be back in a few days and would repay the money. So they donated to us. It was a great start, but it wasn't enough. That night, unbeknownst to us, he went around to the other guides and workers where we were staying and took up another collection. We now had enough money to get us through. Can you imagine something like this happening in the U.S.? "An acquaintance of a friend is strapped for cash, can you contribute?" Of course, as soon as we got back to Kampala we went to an ATM and got Farouk his money back.

So, although there is no excuse for corruption, there is some history and context that provides insight. On some level people feel they are taking money from strangers, from those with whom they have no connection, to share with those in their family and tribe.

Safari with Mom and Ken

2010-02-04T05:14:00.001-08:00

We passed over the equator on our way south to Queen Elizabeth National Park.

Here's a picture for all the Penn State graduates in my family. Most of the clothing Ugandans wear is secondhand from the West, which was obviously the case for this aspiring scholar. I should mention, too, that Ugandans don't generally smile for photos.

Here we're relaxing at our guesthouse after our day's safari. This picture doesn't do the setting justice. We were on a high ridge overlooking the savanna, miles and miles of scrub and silence. It's the kind of landscape that makes people fall in love with Africa.

This little guy was unhappy with us because our car was blocking his path to the watering hole. We took a few pictures then let him get on his way.

Friendship Village well repaired

2010-01-31T02:02:00.000-08:00

Karen described the Bead for Life Friendship Village a couple of blogs back. Good news on their broken well! Bob Wright, a mechanically gifted and generous man, one who has lived in Uganda for several years with his family, volunteered his time last week to repair the broken hand pump. It no longer remains lonely and unused as it was two weeks ago when we took this photo. The village now has two working wells, giving them redundancy and a level of comfort with respect to their water supply. Further, he plans to return to train the local technician, Lawrence, in maintaining the pump. Thank you, Bob.

Ngenge water: training begins

2010-01-30T22:51:00.000-08:00

As a refresher, the Ngenge Sub-county is a rural area of eastern Uganda. The Ngenge water project consists of repairing broken boreholes and installing new ones to serve the 10,000+ people living in 35 villages of this area. The goal is to improve their potable water supplies and to do so sustainably, meaning that few or no outside resources will be needed in future years. All involved agreed that training was crucial.

After much preparation and planning, we launched two of the training courses this past week. One was WASH (water and sanitation hygiene) community training and the other was a hand pump mechanics training class for four young men from four of the villages. I'll describe these courses more in later posts.

The top photo shows the JOY Drilling training team. JOY Drilling is one of the community development arms of the Deliverance Church located in Lira, Uganda. They've provided similar training in several other villages. Rev. David, the Church of Uganda director for community development for the Ngenge Sub-county, is shown in the lower photo introducing the training programs and JOY Drilling staff to the people attending the training in the lower photo. Looking at this picture of the villagers reminds me of Jesus' words,

When did we see you ... thirsty and give you something to drink? ...
The King will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of
the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:37, 40)

We're doing this together. You, back home, praying, encouraging, and supporting us. Karen and I, here in Uganda, doing our part.

I'm excited that it's underway. Look for updates in the coming weeks.

Paul

Mom and Ken

2010-01-24T10:57:00.000-08:00

I had hoped to post pictures of my mom and brother here in Kampala, but the internet didn't cooperate. They arrived fine on Wed. morning at 3:30 with some of their luggage, and the rest arrived a couple days later. We've done some shopping at craft markets and visited the fish market at the edge of Lake Victoria. It maybe hasn't been the most exciting time, but I think just being in Africa for the first time provides enough excitement for most people. A highlight for me was seeing Mom ride a boda boda (motorcycle taxi). She only did it once, but hey, she did it.

We'll leave early tomorrow morning for the Ngenge villages where Paul is working. He plans to check on the well work that is just getting started. I think it will be quite interesting for Mom and Ken to see. Then after an overnight back in Kampala we'll head off on safari. Our driver on both trips will be the intrepid Farouk, who took us on safari with the kids.

More later.

More Bead for Life

2010-01-18T06:51:00.000-08:00

I'm on the left, dancing with the beaders and Bead for Life staff at the start of the workday. The young woman in the purple striped shirt in the middle is Clare, one of the women I work most closely with. She seems to like talking about words almost as much as I do. One day I shared my snack of almonds with her, which she had never tasted, and later she told me that when she went home she and her sister had a big discussion about whether you pronounce the "l" and the"d" in "almond." I ended up sending a signed note home with her to verify for her sister that most Americans pronounce neither (try it - we basically say "ah-mun"). As a side note, I brought in hazelnuts the next day and she said they tasted exactly like the almonds and both tasted like coconut.

This is one of our few male beaders presenting two weeks' worth of beads to the buyers. They'll choose the ones they want and advise him on changes to make for the next batch.

Friendship Village

2010-01-12T10:06:00.001-08:00

Paul and I visited Friendship Village yesterday, the village that Bead for Life has built for some of its beaders. It's located on a lovely hillside a half-hour outside of Kampala. When it was begun about three years ago, women involved with BFL were given the option of building a house there with BFL's help. The village has since filled up with about 130 families, most of them headed by HIV-positive women. A number of the women are Acholi refugees who fled the violence of Joseph Kony and the Lord's Resistance Army in northern Uganda and had been living in slums for years.

Although the houses might not look like much, they're a big step up from what the women had before. The second picture shows a typical house that many of the women used to live in: mud and stick construction in crowded conditions with poor sanitation (most of the women entering our program use latrines shared by ten or more families). The FV homes, built for about $2000, have two bedrooms and a sitting room. They're brick and mortar with a concrete floor, iron-sheeted roof, and a private latrine. The families have a yard around the house where they can grow vegetables or flowers, as well as a garden plot nearby. When they finish paying off their mortgage they will own the house free and clear.

Although it's a real boost in life for the women to have these homes, things aren't perfect. As is the case everywhere in the world, where you have people, you have conflict. The village is taking steps towards being self governing, but some of the women who have risen to leadership positions are interested in wielding power for their own advancement. Other women complain to BFL staff about this, but they won't speak up to the leaders for fear of the repercussions. The staff member who was giving us our tour yesterday told us that her vegetables had been stolen from her garden plot by women living in the village. I asked her what would happen if one woman saw another woman stealing from a garden, and she said, "Probably nothing, because both women would likely have stolen at one time or another." Some of the women are unmotivated to work because of years of depending on handouts from NGO's.

FV has problems with their water, which is typical everywhere we go. One of the village's two hand pumps is broken, and the water in the other one sometimes comes out rusty. Paul may not be able to do a lot for them, but he will look into options for getting the pump repaired and pass the information along.

Blockbuster

2010-01-11T07:59:00.001-08:00

I've been wanting to post pictures of our local DVD rental store. This is one shop, and then there's one a little further away that's in a building, not just a kiosk. Both have a limited selection, and both are entirely stocked with pirated movies, I'm sure. On one of the first movies we rented, you could actually watch the shadow of a guy carrying his drink walk in front of the camera that was being used to videotape the movie in the theater. Yesterday's newspaper had an article about the thriving DVD pirating trade in Kampala. It seems that it's a booming business, but still too small for movie producers to pay attention to, so the pirates (is that what you'd call them?) operate openly. The article blamed the business on the lack of theaters in Uganda, and it could be right: I think it said there's one theater in the entire country. I'm afraid we're guilty of putting our ethics in our back pocket on this one, since we rent movies from time to time.

As a side note, you can see if you click on the first picture to enlarge it that there are several ads for cell phone companies on the kiosk. Virtually no one has land lines here, and everyone who is able gets a cell phone. Even among the low-income women we help at Bead for Life, one of the first purchases they will make if they can is a cell phone. No one has prepaid plans, in part because there's no functioning system for credit cards (which is in part because few people have street addresses and thus there is limited capability to deliver bills). Everyone buys airtime as they need it, and EVERYONE sells airtime, from the tiniest vegetable shack on up.

Traveling in rural Uganda

2010-01-10T07:21:00.000-08:00

The photos are from Scott's and my trip to Karamoja in early December. The top one shows Scott waiting for the next load to go on top while Val Shean attends to a minor problem underneath. Halfway to our destination, we encountered a more major mechanical problem: a leaking fuel filter. We fixed it using strips cut from a spare inner tube. The last photo was taken by Scott from atop the car shortly after our arrival in the village.

We see lots of commercials touting the ruggedness of SUVs--here's a place where it means something. Rural travel (and frequently in Kampala) means bouncing over dirt roads and dodging potholes. It also means fitting in as many people, things, and animals as a vehicle could possibly hold. Here's a challenge. Figure out how you can fit 11 people, two boxes of food, a few jerry cans of water, two lanterns, and two chickens in the vehicle that's shown above. Okay, it was a trick question. It's not just in but on. We had two in the front seats, four in the second seat, two squeezed in the back cargo area (along with the chickens), and three on top (including Scott). (Moms, that wasn't for highway driving, just for the back roads, so your grandson wasn't at too much risk.)

More driving tales

2010-01-04T05:44:00.000-08:00

We were entertained by baboons as we waited for the ferry

Our special hire to take Amy, Carl, and Tracy to the airport for their flight to London was 45 minutes late arriving at our apartment. The driver, Munday, knew we were anxious to make up for lost time, and actually the trip there went fine. The only place we hit a delay was at the police checkpoint at the airport entrance, but by then we knew we were in good shape. Munday, though, was still hustling. There was a line of about 30 cars. He quickly assessed the situation and then pulled around the whole line, drove ahead, and pushed his way back in at the front. We were all sinking down in our seats and hiding our faces. Ugandans tend to be aggressive drivers with a "to the victor go the spoils" attitude. The car he was cutting off tried not to let him in, but otherwise no one protested, no honking horns or anything. He had won and that was that.

When we were on safari we saw a similar maneuver backfire, however. We were waiting to get on the eight-car ferry to take us back across the Nile River after our morning's game drive. Our van was about fourth in line. The ferry, which we could clearly see across the river (it's only about a 7-minute ride), had broken down and so was delayed. By the time we waited the hour and a half it took for it to get repaired, there were about a dozen vehicles waiting. People were hot, tired, and hungry. The order was clear for loading on the ferry, but a couple drivers pulled a Munday and cut in, one of them almost hitting a passenger. The passenger became angry and threw a rock at the driver's windshield, shattering half of it. Then it was the driver's turn to get mad. He confronted the passenger, yelling and waving his arms. He demanded immediate payment for the cost of repairing the windshield and threatened to throw the man into the Nile if he didn't pay up. He even grabbed the man at one point. By now a child was crying in fear and other drivers and passengers were trying to defuse the situation. Eventually the ferry started moving and we got across the river. We found out later that the passenger paid up, and we saw the driver laughing and joking with the other drivers, so he must have been satisfied.

Karen

Equator visit

2009-12-29T00:10:00.000-08:00

Safari

2009-12-25T02:57:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-18T23:45:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-13T03:23:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-10T03:31:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-09T07:12:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-02T06:39:00.000-08:00

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

Thanksgiving #2

2009-11-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

We were to celebrate Thanksgiving a second time on Friday with my friend Alene and her family. Alene and I had been e-mailing for a couple weeks getting the food organized. The plan was that Paul, Scott and I would get picked up by her driver, stop and pick up the turkey we had ordered, then head to Alene's to cook. It was a good plan, but we all know what happens to good plans. The driver, through no particular fault of his own, turned out to be a couple hours late and that made it impossible for us to get the turkey cooked at a reasonable time. So we had delicious beef fillet instead and Alene was to cook the turkey today. It was disappointing, but we had a good time visiting and swimming in their pool. We did have apple and pumpkin pies for dessert, so we had a bit of Thanksgiving anyway.

The first Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T09:21:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone, this is Scott! I'm back home now and writing this blog post for my parents. We had our first thanksgiving dinner tonight and we have another tomorrow. It was at the Crawford's house. The Crawfords are the Ugandan EMI leaders. It was very American with turkey and pie and such. I was happy.

Miscellaneous observations about hair and taxis

2009-11-24T05:47:00.000-08:00

When I visited Amy in India I quickly fell in love with the women's saris and the gorgeous fabrics they were made from, each seemingly more beautiful than the last. Here in Africa I'm not so taken with the clothing, but I love women's hair. I never dreamed there were so many ways to do cornrows, braids, and curls. Many styles are intricate and must take hours to complete. Women also wrap their hair in headdresses, again with a multitude of styles. I suppose I've seen 30 different ways you can wrap fabric around your head and have it look lovely.

On a completely different subject, I've been wanting to explain a little more about how the shared taxis work here. I get quite a bit of time each week to analyze them as I ride from place to place. As I've mentioned, they're 14-passenger vans. Each one runs a more or less set route heading into or out of the main taxi park downtown. They will stop anywhere along the route to pick up passengers. Each taxi has a driver and a conductor. The conductor sits in the seat nearest the side sliding door. His job is to collect fares, notice passengers wanting to be picked up, and help people on and off as necessary. People carry all kinds of things on taxis, including large burlap bags of who knows what, so the conductor will help them with their parcels or hold their babies while they load and unload.

Passengers know to go to the back or far side seats as they get in. There are seats in the aisle that fold up, so if someone in the far back corner needs to get out, for instance, the people in the fold up seats get up, fold their seats up, get out, let the passenger out, then climb back in. It's really quite a workable system. The vans are made for 14 passengers, but that number is flexible. People here don't need the personal space we're used to, so if the conductor wants to let 16 or 17 people ride, you just basically sit on each other.

When I go to Bead for Life I leave our home in Kansanga, pass through Kabalagala, then catch a taxi downtown to Luthuli Road in Bugalobi. Aren't those great names?

Karen

Grasshopper (Warning: don't read just before your Thanksgiving meal)

2009-11-23T08:15:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of cultural adaptation, I indulged at the EMI lunch. I ate a fried grasshopper. And lived to tell about it.

Paul

Corruption dams the river of righteousness

2009-11-21T08:12:00.000-08:00

The prophet Amos spoke a harsh rebuke to Israel on behalf of the Lord.

I know how many are your offenses
and how great your sins.
You oppress the righteous and take bribes
and you deprive the poor of justice in the courts.
(Amos 5:12)

The injustice of corruption has become more tangible during our stay in Uganda. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Uganda has all the problems and we have things straight in the US. But corruption isn't our biggest challenge, thankfully.

Transparency International recently issued its annual corruption index. Uganda slipped four places from last year to rank 130 out of 180 countries. The higher the number the worse the corruption. The top forms of corruption in Uganda are bribery, embezzlement or diversion of funds, extortion, and nepotism. What's striking to me are the personal examples I've heard:

Moses lives in Kapchorwa Town. He recently completed enough of their house for he and his family to move in. Although there is a city water line next to their property and he applied 3 months ago for service, the city has not yet connected his house to the system. He matter-of-factly said the reason was that he hadn't paid a bribe.
John is an EMI staff member who is providing construction management for a school and training facility in a nearby city. On behalf of the owner, he purchased 23 rolls of flexible water pipe. Each roll was sold as 100 meters in length. It was impractical to unroll them and check the length at the supplier's office and plus, he naturally assumed that he was buying 100 meters as they were marked. He recognized a shortage as the pipe was installed and realized after checking and rechecking measurements that the rolls were only 78 to 95 meters in length. There wasn't a single roll that provided the whole 100 meters. The supplier cheated him by removing a few meters from each roll.
Kathy and Nigel have been renting a house for several years. Recently a dispute has arisen between two individuals, each claiming to own the property. An official of the court showed up at their front door one day two weeks ago telling them that he had an eviction notice and they must vacate immediately. As they were in the process of removing their goods from the house they discovered that in fact there was no eviction notice and that the court official was in cahoots with the lawyer for one of the claimants.

Later in the same chapter of Amos, God spoke even stronger words, words quoted by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. 2500 years later.

I hate, I despise your religious feasts;
I cannot stand your assemblies ...
Away with the noise of your songs!
I will not listen to the music of your harps.
But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream!
(Amos 5:21, 23-24)

Paul

Good things come from coffee shops

2009-11-19T03:05:00.000-08:00

This post's title is the moral of the story. Paul was in a coffee shop here in Uganda about six weeks ago and struck up a conversation with a man who turned out to be a fellow Pacific Northwesterner. This man's wife had started an organization called Bead for Life (www.beadforlife.org) which helps impoverished Ugandan women. Paul asked if they had room for volunteers, and that's how I ended up helping there twice a week. I've told some of you about it already, but I thought I'd explain how the organization works in a little more detail.

First, women are referred to us who are below a certain poverty threshold. Once accepted into our program, they are taught to make beads from paper and to string them into necklaces. This type of necklace is becoming increasingly popular in the U.S. so many of you may have seen them. Every two weeks the women (divided into groups of about 50) come to the BFL office and sell us their necklaces. We then ship the necklaces to the U.S. where they are sold at home parties. The women are given half their money in cash and half is put into their savings account, which they can draw from at any time. The women are enrolled in this program for 18 months, after which they graduate. During their 18 months with us we teach them literacy and business skills, the goal of which is for them to open their own small business. So they don't sell beads to BFL for the rest of their lives: this is a jumping off point for them. They earn capital to begin their own business and may also be eligible for a loan from BFL. Many of the women open small fruit and vegetable stands or buy a plot of land to farm or raise animals on. It doesn't take much of a profit here to make a difference in people's lives.

My part in all this is small - I do data entry. I've spent most of my time so far entering data from exit interviews with the women into a spreadsheet. It has given me an overview of the impact the program makes. We ask the women things like, "Since you've started working with BFL, have you been able to buy a radio, bicycle, or mattress?" "Have you been able to make improvements to your home such as a metal roof or concrete floor?" Many of the women use the money they make to pay their children's school fees or to begin to support other family members (a typical use of income in Africa). One woman commented that the greatest improvement BFL has brought to her life is that she doesn't have to beg any more.

As a side note, I have an interesting commute to the job. It's across town, so it usually takes me a little over an hour using two boda-bodas (motorcycle taxis) and two matatus (14-passenger vans) each way. Sometimes, for reasons I don't understand, on the way home the matatu driver will drop us off before reaching the downtown taxi park where we normally get off. Yesterday he dropped us off in a part of town I was unfamiliar with. I couldn't see any landmarks, but I started walking in the direction I thought was right. After awhile I still couldn't see anything familiar and was starting to get frustrated and mildly panicked, so I called one of the EMI staff who has been here a long time. She was able to head me in the right direction based on a couple buildings I could see in the distance. It was the opposite of how I would have gone so I was glad I called her. Remember, very few streets are named, so everything has to be done by landmarks. One benefit of being lost was that I walked by blocks of used clothing stores. I'm thinking maybe when the girls come at Christmas if we're feeling adventuresome we can go down and shop.

Old and young

2009-11-10T08:23:00.000-08:00

Africa values its elders. "Pondet" is the title they're given in Ngenge. It always elicited a warm smile of appreciation when I met an older person and referred to him or her as pondet. The two pondets in the photo have experienced a different life than you or I. I wonder what stories they would tell.

Africa's also a young land. Their shorter life expectancies and larger families mean lots of kids, whether you're in the city or the villages. (Click to enlarge photo's. Photo credits to Rachel.)

Paul

Life in Ngenge

2009-11-08T05:26:00.000-08:00

Two of the leaders of the Ngenge water project are Rev. David from the local Church of Uganda diocese and Rev. Rusty from Christchurch in Alabama. These two individuals and their churches have worked together for several years to contribute to community development in Ngenge. For example, during my recent visit, a dentist (Bubba) and his assistants (Corky and Bill) provided dental services to more than 200 people.

The top photo shows Rev. David, Rev. Rusty, and Rev. David's brother, Jackson, during our visit to Jackson's home in one of the villages. If you look closely at the photo, you can see the light green of his cultivated fields, a potato field behind his hut and a watermelon patch to the side. These small fields represent his livelihood. If the rains fall and his crops produce, he has some income. If not, his extended family will help provide for him, but they don't have much more. Seeing this first hand made the $1-2 a day income of the villagers more real to me.

The second photo shows Jackson by his potato plants. If it had been a solid rainy season, the plants might be twice as tall and twice as productive. He doesn't have options for irrigation. There's no river near his property and the nearest borehole is about 2 km away. That's a long way to carry water just for your domestic purposes let alone for irrigation.

Jackson showed us inside of his hut. Apart from his foam mattress on a hand-made wooden bed, his possessions would fit inside of our suitcase. They consisted of a few extra clothes, a few cooking pots and utensils, a radio, candles, and a couple of jerry cans. The first watermelon from his crop was carefully placed by his things. It was maybe 12" in diameter so small compared to most we buy in the US. It would have fetched him UGX 2000 ($1) at the market. I say would have because the next night we ate dinner at Rev. David's house, with Jackson joining us, and he contributed his watermelon for dessert. It was one of those humbling moments when you experience the kindness and generosity of Ugandan people.

Ngenge water

2009-11-05T08:45:00.000-08:00

Ngenge's a sub-county in eastern Uganda, north of Mt. Elgon and Kapchorwa Town if you're looking on Google Earth. I just returned from my week-long visit. We visited additional villages to evaluate the condition of their boreholes (wells) and met with the church leaders who are spearheading the development activities in this region.

We hope to initiate the training programs for hand pump mechanics, community WASH (water and sanitation hygiene), and for the local water committees in just a few weeks. In addition, the local firm we have selected will repair 10-12 broken boreholes. In the meantime, many of the 10,000 villagers are walking miles for their water or using poorly treated river water. Their needs are huge but I never heard a word of complaint. Rather, I heard "kate-a-bon" over and over. "Thank you."

The first photo shows a cattle herder taking a break at a borehole, and the other one is some of our team with local villagers.

Paul

Visit to Stella

2009-10-31T03:27:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday Stella, the woman who cleans and does our laundry, invited us to a bazaar at her girls' school. Actually it's her husband's school as well because he teaches there. They live on the school campus in housing the school provides. Stella had asked us several times to visit, so this seemed like a good opportunity. We may not have mentioned yet that few streets have street signs to mark them and fewer houses have numbers, so finding places is dicey. We knew Stella lived across town, but since Jill, a young architect with EMI, was going too, we figured we could get there.

We started off at 9:30 Sat. morning. Paul and I harbored a secret hope that we'd be back in time to still go out for coffee, our Saturday routine, by early afternoon. Hah. The drive to Stella's took an hour and a half. We took a shared taxi, the ubiquitous 14-passenger vans, into the downtown taxi park and got stuck in market day traffic. When we got to the taxi park, which is the definition of organized chaos if there ever was one, we found the taxi that goes to Stella's, but then we had to wait for it to fill up before the driver would leave. When it was full the driver figured out that the taxi parked next to us was at the wrong angle for us to be able to pull out. The driver of the other van was AWOL, but some guys got it into neutral and moved it back about 8" so we could pull forward. We went about two yards, but then there was another taxi perpendicular to us blocking our way. This doesn't seem to bother anybody. They deal with each impediment as it presents itself.

Anyway, eventually we got out of the taxi park and to Stella's. This school is larger and nicer than the one where Janet, EMI's cook, and her husband live and where we had visited a few weeks ago. We hurried to a grassy field where the students were singing and dancing before the bazaar. We were late, but we hoped to catch at least a little of the music. We needn't have hurried. We sat through 3 1/2 hours of singing, dancing, and speeches. Unfortunately, there were a lot more speeches than there was singing and dancing. People in Uganda tend to be flowery in their speech by Western standards, and floweryness takes time. Fortunately, we were seated under canopies or the heat would have been brutal. Really, the music was amazing, and if we just could have watched the kids it would have been an enjoyable afternoon. But...let's say it was a valuable cultural experience that we hope to never have to sit through again.

Stella took us to her apartment when it was over and fed us lunch. She served similar food to what Janet cooks for us at EMI every day: matoke (cooked mashed plantains) and rice over which you put a meat or peanut sauce, vegetables and fruit. It's a good and filling lunch. Stella cooked green beans and carrots just for us. For some reason plain vegetables are considered mzungu (white) food. It was hilarious to see her girls gamely attempt to eat a plain green bean but give up. It was just too strange for them.

Stella's house was similar in size and arrangement to Janet's but with two rooms instead of one. The front room was partitioned in two with a sheet. There was just room in the "sitting room" for a couch and chair lined up, a coffee table, and a chest with a t.v. and boom box on it. Behind the sheet was a bunkbed. We didn't see the second room, but it must have had the kitchen and more beds. Stella, her husband, five daughters, and her sister-in-law all live in this small space. Stella's daughters range in age from 11 to 1.

Finally we went to the bazaar. The girls had made baskets, napkins, cards and quite a few other things to sell to raise money. We bought a little, visited briefly with Stella's husband Peter, and then took off shortly after that, arriving home about five. No coffee for us that day.

Looking back on it, we were happy to have visited Stella, but we find days like that draining. Although we feel like we're learning our way around, there are still so many things that we don't know how they're supposed to work or what is expected of us. We always stand out. We were the only whites at the school, the only whites on the taxi, the only whites most places we go. People are nice to us, but you can never be inconspicuous and sometimes you just want to blend in.

This week Paul is up visiting the Ngenge villages, his primary focus for his time here. We've only been able to talk briefly, but things are going well. Rev. Rusty, the minister from the Episcopalian congregation in Alabama which is supporting the work, is there too. Paul met with a well driller today that he hopes will work for them in the area, and he also surveyed more of the villages and found out their needs. He'll get home on Tuesday and I'm sure will post details after that.

The skies opened...

2009-10-25T06:06:00.001-07:00

I wish this title was metaphorical for our experience in church this morning, but it's literal. We had a deluge here the likes of which neither Paul nor I have ever experienced.

Our church meets in a school cafeteria. Like many public spaces in Uganda, the building has no glass in the windows. There are just half walls and above that is all open. There is a wide cement veranda around the outside of the walls, and a metal roof covers everything.

The storm came up fairly quickly, as storms often do here. The rain came down in torrents and the wind began to blow. Soon people began to move towards the center of the room as rain blew in. The minister gave up trying to speak above the sound of the rain pounding on the roof and we went back to singing. You can imagine how loud rain pounding on a metal roof sounds. You could hardly hear the congregation of 200 sing or the instruments play. Then it began to hail, and people were covering their ears because the noise was so loud it actually hurt. Finally we just stopped the service and people stood as close to the middle of the room as they could get. The surprising thing about the storm was how long it lasted. We've all experienced heavy rains for 10-15 minutes, but this went on for a full hour. Streams turned to torrents, and the soccer field behind the school was a lake. Of course, that lake called to some of the teenagers, and they answered the call and had a great time running around getting soaked.

Finally it ended and people were able to get to their cars to get home. There was no way to exit the church without wading through fast-flowing water, so you could choose shoes or no shoes, but you were going to get wet no matter what. Paul and I live just a three-minute walk from the school, but we got caught in a brief after-shower and were pretty soaked by the time we got here. Looking on the bright side, though, we got to remember what it's like to be cold. It's kind of refreshing after months of feeling hot.

House Tour #4

2009-10-23T02:05:00.000-07:00

We'll end our house tour with the bathroom. I could show you our second bedroom too, but it's boring, being used as a storage room until Scott comes back, and messy. So we'll skip it. Just a reminder too that if you click on the photo it will enlarge.

We're fortunate, as we've mentioned, to have running water in the house. There's only one temperature, lukewarm, but that's fine. We have a water heater attached to the shower, so we turn it on when we're ready to shower and it heats up instantly. The only time it fails us is when the electricity is off. Then we get to choose between a chilly shower right away or a warm one later. As we'd be taking the shower in the dark, we usually opt to wait. As you can see from the photo, there's no shower curtain. Behind our orange laundry tub you can also see the large squeegee on a pole, which we use to push the overspray to the floor drain after we're done. Since the floor and lower walls are tile, this works fine. They had the same method in Jordan when we lived there.

Before we start to shower we sit and scrub our feet. Someone joked that when you leave Uganda it takes six weeks to get the dirt off. It's not really a joke. We scrub hard and get the top layer off, but a lot is just ground in I guess. Paul had showered last night before we went out to a dinner theater with some friends. The only walking we did was a short distance to catch a boda boda (motorcycle taxi) to meet our friends. Paul was wearing socks and close-toed shoes. When we got home at the end of the evening, his feet were dirty. Magic!

On another subject, I taught my first English class yesterday. Solomon, the young man who is the main teacher, had worked out a detailed lesson plan for me. He wanted me to teach the women the numbers 1-20. I was to say the numbers for them to repeat, have each woman say them, have them match them, write them in words, etc. Then we were to do basic addition like 2+2=4. Solomon and I were chatting before the women arrived and I asked him what he had taught the class the day before. They had done multiplication and 4 digit addition - in English! So why was I teaching them the names of the numbers? I had no idea and didn't want to offend him by asking. Since it was my first time out, I decided I would just follow his plan. Those dear women patiently repeated the numbers to me and dutifully wrote them down in their notebooks. And here's a final twist to the story: a white friend of mine talked to these women that evening, and they told her the class was difficult. What?! There are obviously some things I don't have figured out yet. Anyway, it was enjoyable, and next week Solomon wants me to teach them verb tenses, parts of the body, furniture and food. Since that's material for about four months, I should have plenty to do.

Water obstacles

2009-10-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

Uganda's challenges and obstacles in achieving safe drinking water for all:

40% of Ugandans obtain their water directly from rivers and lakes.
31% of Ugandans live below the international poverty line, which is defined as $1.25 per person per day.
A shallow well with a hand pump, which is capable of producing about 10 liters per minute (2.5 gallons per minute), is considered sufficient for 300 people. A rural household is considered to have safe drinking water coverage if there is a safe water source within 1.5 kilometers.
The India Mark II hand pump is a quality product that is used throughout Africa. It will operate 1-3 years without any maintenance (but definitely not forever). Village water committees are often started when a new well and hand pump are installed. Unfortunately, since the pumps operate 1-3 years uncared for, that's just long enough for committees to dissolve before they are needed to service the pump. (Obviously, that's not an absolute. But it's not uncommon.)
Only one-half of Uganda's 200,000 wells are operable at any one time.
Training local hand pump technicians has been a priority for a number of NGOs. It often happens that those with the greatest aptitude for maintaining and repairing the pumps are the talented individuals who move away from the villages for better jobs.
Theft of hand pumps is not uncommon in some areas because of the value of the metal for scrap.
The lack of good goverance (the prevalence of corruption) thwarts many good people and organizations in their work to provide safe drinking water. (The Water Integrity Network, formed by Transparency International, recently estimated that $5-10 million intended for Uganda water improvements is lost to corruption each year.)
Water-borne diarrheal diseases cause 17% of the deaths among children under 5 years

In summary, there are great needs and great challenges. It will be wonderful to make a contribution to safe water even if it's just for a few. To them, it will be huge.

Paul

Doing business in Uganda

2009-10-17T09:52:00.000-07:00

Everything's done by cash in Uganda. No stores take credit cards or checks. You pay water bills, buy appliances, and even pay rent by cash. That often means many bills with many zeros since $500 is equivalent to one million Uganda shillings.

No credit sounds like a good thing coming on the heels of the worldwide credit and financial crisis. As Americans, we're often reminded by the media that we save too little and put too much on our credit cards.

No credit has its downside, too. It adds a risk to doing business. We hired an electrician today to replace a breaker in our circuit board. (Our refrigerator had been out the past two days because it wasn't getting enough power. It's now running and we're delighted.) The electrician evaluated the problem and said he'd need to buy a breaker and it would run UGX 60,000 ($30). We paid him up front so he would have enough money to buy the parts. He returned a few hours later, successfully installed the parts, and we settled by paying UGX 30,000 for his labor.

That's typical; you pay businesses up front so that they can buy materials. The risk isn't great for a new breaker but it's significant when you're hiring a well drilling company at about $8,000 per well. You may not have to pay all $8,000 up front but would probably have to pay half. The company needs the money to buy the hand pump, purchase fuel, pay lodging, buy cement for grout, etc. They don't have a line of credit and so they purchase these things only after they are paid.

I heard more than one story about losses incurred because of this system. One group hired a well drilling company to install wells and everything went smoothly for the first two. They extended the contract for additional wells and the owner left town with $25,000. We're doing our best to avoid a similar results in working with the villages but as you can imagine, this group thought they were doing it right and they lost (and so did the people needing those wells). Pray for wisdom and God's grace to avoid this outcome.

Home visit

2009-10-14T00:25:00.000-07:00

Last evening when Paul got off work he and I walked to do some errands. Along the way we met Janet, EMI's cook. She invited us to her home which was nearby. Knowing that hospitality is an important part of Ugandan life, we accepted. Janet took my hand as we walked down the street toward her house. In Uganda, as in many countries outside the U.S., you only hold hands in public with people of your same gender. It was such a sweet gesture that it wasn't hard to overcome my initial discomfort.

Janet's husband is a teacher and they live on the school compound. The compound itself is a series of small concrete classrooms around a central dirt courtyard. The "homes" are also just a series of rooms in a one-story concrete building. This is another occasion where I wish we had had our camera along, because words fall short. I'm guessing their whole house is the size of our dining room at home. I have to guess because there was a piece of fabric stretched across the width of the room to separate the front room from the rest. This front room had a couch and chair and small table. There was a piece of linoleum on the floor. The edges of the room were neatly piled high with suitcases and cookware. Along the edge of the back room we could see a wooden bunkbed three tiers high. There are seven to nine people living in this home: Janet, her husband, their five children, and a couple children of relatives staying with them. One of them is Janet's cousin's child who is 14 and cooks and does childcare for them. The house had electricity but no running water or toilet.

Our first reaction, though of course we hope we hid it well, was shock at how little they had. I'll be posting soon on privilege and guilt. However, this was tempered by Janet's ease in her surroundings and the happiness and liveliness of her children (although I thought her one-year-old appeared listless). It's one thing to know that Africans don't have much, but to see it worked out in the life of someone you interact with daily takes it to another level.

Janet offered us Cokes, though she herself didn't drink one, and we visited. We got one of her daughters to sing us a song, and in turn I taught them "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." We met her husband who left his classroom early - apparently he usually works 7 to 7 - to come say hello. He struck me as a warm, dignified man.

EMI tries to give its Ugandan workers a leg up by offering them an annual schooling stipend which they can use for themselves or their children. Janet had used hers to get a counseling certificate. As far as I can tell, a certificate is something beyond high school but less than a college diploma. Maybe it's like a two-year college program. Anyway, she has her certificate but can't find a job using it. So she stays with EMI for the time being, but has the potential to move on someday to a better paying, more challenging job.

Vanilla farm trip

2009-10-11T06:45:00.001-07:00

We had such an interesting day yesterday. We went with about ten people to a friend's vanilla farm and processing plant. This is a case where pictures would be worth a thousand words, but we sent our camera to RVA for Scott to use so we didn't have it along. We may get some pictures from others who went so we'll post them if they turn out.

Anyway, we saw vanilla, cocoa, and coffee growing. The vanilla was especially interesting because of how involved it is to grow. They train the vine up a tree that provides shade for it. Each vanilla bean grows from a flower and - get this - each flower only blooms for one day and they must hand pollinate it during that day. It's an amazingly labor intensive operation.

After traipsing around the hillsides where the plants grow we went into the processing plant. Again, it's a fascinating and long process to get the beans ready to ship. It involves boiling them, wrapping them in blankets, setting them out on trays in the sun for a couple hours a day for weeks, sorting them by hand (there must have been 100 people sitting on the floor of the sorting room going through the beans one by one) and then storing them for months to let them cure.

Phil, the farm owner, told us about many other aspects of the operation - things like the problems of selling to the Fair Trade market, the complex chemistry of vanilla, and various aspects of marketing. Apparently the vanilla market is subject to boom and bust like many other things. There was a boom in the early 2000s which peaked in 2004 with beans going for $500/kilo. Now they sell for $20/kilo. Uganda is one of the world's leading producers of vanilla though it trails far behind Madagascar.

Being that Phil and his family are British, we broke for elevensies in the midst of our day--a snack of tea and biscuits and fruit around 11:00 a.m. Quite a nice tradition.

Expatriats

2009-10-09T05:43:00.000-07:00

First of all, happy Independence Day to Uganda! Today marks 47 years of independence.

One of the things Paul and I learned when we lived in Jordan 20 years ago is the expat community is filled with interesting people. We have found the same to be true here. In the short amount of time we've been here we've met a doctor who has worked in Africa for 30 years, an American military adviser to the Ugandan army, a businessman who imports cocoa and vanilla beans from Congo, a documentary filmmaker/fish farmer, and a man and his wife who were both born in Uganda, grew up in LA, and now have moved back to Uganda for good. A number of the people we've met have spent time living in the bush without electricity or running water. Also, almost all of them have lived overseas most of their adult lives, generally in African countries. Paul and I are lightweights being here for only ten months.

The expat church community is equally varied. Our church, Kampala International, is composed of about 2/3 Westerners and 1/3 Ugandans. The Westerners are largely European, though there are a fair number of Americans. Things have a European flavor. Nobody hugs when they meet - they kiss each other once on each cheek (and I was told the Dutch just keep going). Alcohol is more widely accepted than you would find in American churches, though Americans certainly have become more relaxed about drinking than they used to be. We were at a Bible study group last week, and when we were finished looking at the Bible and praying, our host brought out whiskey and Bailey's Irish Cream and people had a nightcap. Then we were at a church dinner last night and there was drinking, smoking, and dancing well into the night. What unites us, of course, is that in spite of cultural differences, all these people have found Jesus a compelling figure and are trying to figure out what it means to follow him. I really want to be able to listen to them and learn from them, especially from the Africans, most of whose life experiences are so different from my own.

This just in: those of you (our moms) who have read our blog from the beginning may remember that in an early post I described our neighborhood and that next door we have two "mansions." We noticed an unusual amount of activity there today, so Paul decided to be bold and go over to see if he could find out what those houses are. He met the owner, a gregarious Ugandan man, who welcomed him in to look around and said he'd invite us to the housewarming. It turns out the largest house is his private residence and the other one is his guesthouse. My. Can we use the pool?

Karen

House tour #3

2009-10-08T06:50:00.000-07:00

This is our bedroom. As you can see, there's not a lot in it except the bed, dresser, and mosquito net. At night we untie the big knot the net is in and drape it over the four posts on the corners of the beds. We've had few mosquitoes anyway, so the net probably isn't really necessary, but it's easy to open out so we do. The bed's mattress is just a piece of foam, which is a typical mattress here, but it's comfortable enough and we sleep well.

In Paul's last post he mentioned that our water tank had run dry. He figured that the city had failed to pump water for a day or two and that was why it had run out. We were puzzled, though, because the EMI interns in the apartment next door had water. Paul did a little exploring and found out that someone had turned the valve off leading to our tank. Once we had used up the water already in the tank no more was going in to refill it. Why did someone turn the valve off? Who turned the valve off? We have no idea. Anyway, it was a quick and easy fix to turn the valve on so that was nice.

I've baked twice! Pretty successfully! I made chocolate chip cookies to send to Scott over the weekend and cinnamon rolls yesterday. This isn't really a big deal, but it feels a little like a big deal to me. I suppose it's because I had to overcome a number of small obstacles to accomplish it. I may have mentioned that bake ware is hard to find and very expensive when you do find it, so I ended up baking the cookies on flat aluminum pan lids and the cinnamon rolls in a rusty old 9x13 pan we'd found in the office that I lined with foil. Ingredients are slightly different too, as are measurements (I used the computer to translate grams to cups and fahrenheit to celsius). We were disappointed to find that the cookies I had put in a plastic container were covered with ants a few hours later - I had neglected to press one corner of the container down tightly. We were determined not to give up our cookies,though, so we spent about 20 minutes brushing every last ant off those cookies and putting the cookies in a different tin.

Water tank addendum

2009-10-04T11:58:00.000-07:00

Our water tank had saved us, up until this evening. We returned a short while ago from an evening church group dinner. We were hot and dusty and ready for a shower but the water dribbled out and stopped. It seems the city water has been off long enough for our tank to run dry. You could look on the bright side and say it will help us be sympathetic toward our neighbors and people in the villages with no running water, but right now it mostly seems crummy.

Paul

Water tank warning

2009-10-04T05:09:00.000-07:00

Water tanks are a great thing as long as you read the warning label.

You see water tanks outside of every building in Kampala; well, every building that has running water. Why here and not in Corvallis?

In Kampala, like most developing world cities, they make the difference between having water and a dry faucet. The Kampala water system doesn't operate continuously. It runs most of the time but there may be several hours a week when the pipes are dry and no water reaches your house. One of the faucets in the EMI office is plumbed directly from the city system, bypassing the storage tanks. There's a time or two every week when I turn on this faucet to fill the teapot and nothing comes out.

The water tanks for our apartment building (pictured above) save the day. They have allowed us the privilege of running water every day so far. But here's the warning label: Water tanks suggest intermittent service and unsafe water. Whenever the pipes are empty, all the leaks (and any system has them) allow who-knows-what to enter the pipe and find its way to your glass. Think twice before drinking water in a city that has water tanks.

What to do? You can buy bottled water, which is the typical approach among the expat's. You can boil your drinking water, which is the most common approach among the majority of the city's population. The second photo shows another alternative. It's a prototype of a hand-crank powered treatment unit that uses ultraviolet light to disinfect water. (Many thanks to Chris for assembling it for us.) Given enough time, the UVC rays in sunshine are quite effective in killing pathogens. This treatment unit speeds up the process so a 2.5 L batch can be disinfected in under a minute.

Could something like this take the place of boiling and bottled water? Maybe, but that's a longer story for another day.

Paul

Pickpocket and dinner

2009-10-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

We had a not-good afternoon yesterday, followed by a nice evening.

Paul took the afternoon off work so we could shop downtown. We took the usual 14-passenger van to the "taxi park," where about a thousand taxis crowd into a space the size of your living room. From there we walked across town, about a 40-minute walk, to a western style mall. Along the way we stopped into a bank to exchange Ugandan shillings for Kenyan shillings. We planned to send the money to Scott and his guardians with a friend who is heading to RVA next week. About ten minutes after we left the bank, as we waited at a crowded corner to cross the street, Paul was pushed by two men who came at him from either side. When he regained his balance he realized the men were pickpockets and had, just that quickly, gotten the Kenyan money . Of course they had melted into the crowd and there was no chance of finding them. Normally Paul wears clothing with zippered pockets when he's carrying a quantity of money, but since we had plans to have dinner at friends' house that evening, he had put on a dress shirt and slacks and had the money in his front pants pocket. As anyone can tell you who has experienced a theft of any kind, it's not only the loss of money that hurts, but the sense of violation. We wondered if the thieves had followed us from the bank. We certainly were an obvious target, being two of only a few white people in the downtown, and white people, by definition, are rich.

However, things looked up after that.We went to dinner at the home of a friend of mine from high school, Alene, and her husband Steve. They came to Kampala about ten months ago on a USAID project that Alene is working on having to do with monitoring HIV/AIDS programs. I haven't seen Alene since high school, and it was great to catch up with her after all this time. They live in a lovely home outside Kampala with a pretty yard, a swimming pool, and a view of Lake Victoria. After our hot, crowded, difficult afternoon (I had also gotten us lost), it was wonderful to relax in a peaceful spot with enjoyable company and a delicious dinner. We also got to visit with their daughter who is a sophomore at the international high school here. It was nice to be around a teenager again and fun to hear her impressions of her time in Uganda.

Today we had our usual Sat. morning coffee and grocery shopping trip, and tonight we're meeting friends for dinner. It's our 28th anniversary. Kudos to Paul for putting up with me all these years, and only every once in awhile turning to me and saying, "Have you ever had a wife?" I love you, dear!

Cacophony

2009-09-29T04:38:00.000-07:00

The noises here are different from the noises in our neighborhood in Corvallis. Here, when we go to sleep at night, we hear a babble of voices from across the street in "the village." By the way, did we mention we found out it really is a village, with a chief and everything? Anyway, besides voices we often hear music, sometimes live, sometimes from a radio, drumming, and someone nearby has a t.v. The noise is generally louder on weekends.

In the mornings we hear (usually in this order) roosters, which start crowing well before dawn we've found out, songbirds, chickens, goats, cows, ibis which caw louder than crows, cars, and people. Occasionally our downstairs neighbor is outside way too early talking on his cell phone. My guess is he's conducting business with someone in a different country and that's why he's up so early, but he's speaking something besides English, so I can't eavesdrop to know for sure. The last 18 hours we've had a cow across the street bellowing non-stop, and I'm not exaggerating . Is it dying? Sick? Giving birth? I can't tell, but it can't be a happy cow. I hope its problem gets solved soon.

I'm glad to say, though, that the noise rarely keeps us awake. Maybe there's enough of it that it blends together. It's an interesting combination of farm noises and city noises, though without the background hum of constant traffic that you'd get in a Western city. The picture at the top of the page is a typical house in our neighborhood.

On another subject, the latest on our ATM problem is that we tried two more ATMs on Sat., one of which gave us money. So we're set for now, and curious to see what happens next time we try one.

"Schools stealing water"

2009-09-26T06:02:00.000-07:00

That's a headline in the September 19, 2009, issue of a Kampala newspaper, New Vision. Water supply to 25 schools was discontinued over illegal use, meaning unpaid bills or bypassing their meters. You might picture the drinking water fountains being shut off but it's much worse. When the water is shut off, there's no water for the kitchens, for the sinks, or for flushing toilets.

We promptly paid our water bill when it arrived--we're keen on having running water. We used 5 cubic meters in a month (not quite 1300 gallons or about 43 gallons per day) and our bill came to 10,648 Uganda schillings (about $6). That's inexpensive water. It's maybe too little to operate a municipal system, but what if you charged more and people (including schools) can't pay? Amy will solve that dilemma when she graduates in philosophy.

Paul

House Tour #2

2009-09-25T03:50:00.000-07:00

Next stop is the living room. The furniture was all provided for us, which was nice to have when we arrived. Draped over a corner of the couch is my green scarf-apron. I noticed Ugandan women wrap a scarf or other large piece of material around them, like an overskirt, when they work. Since I'm used to wearing an apron at home it seemed like a practical solution, plus it's kind of pretty. Over the back of the far chair is a waxed fabric wall hanging we bought at a craft market last week. We'd like to put it up so we have something on our walls, but you need special tiny tacks to put things up with since the walls are - what? cement? - something hard and brittle that chips if you put a nail in. So, till we find those elusive tiny tacks, the wall hanging decorates the chair.

The other picture is our dining/everything table. When the picture was taken it was attractively decorated with our malaria pills and cookie box, among other things. And, as always, our lifeline, the computer.

On a non-house note, we're in the midst of a money snafu as I write. The ATMs have stopped accepting our debit card. All transactions are conducted in cash here, so no ATM means no money, which means we're in trouble if we don't get this figured out soon. Although we could get a cash advance through our EMI account, so we won't starve. We're curious about what happened, and so far our bank in Corvallis can't figure it out either. Meanwhile, Paul walked quite a few miles today in the Ugandan heat going from ATM to bank to ATM trying to find out if there was one that worked. I had given him a haircut last night, shorter, he said, than he's had since third grade (oops). He could feel the sun burning his scalp, so when he was on back roads he held his hands over his head and even took his shirt off at one point to use as a hat. Those crazy muzungus (whites).

Home, Installment #1

2009-09-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to give you a virtual tour of our apartment. I'll have to do it room by room since it takes about 15 minutes to upload each picture.

I'll start with the kitchen. It's small but functional. Well, everything but the microwave is functional. The microwave heats things, but so slowly you might as well put them in a pan on the stove and get it done with. We'd throw the microwave out but don't know where to throw it.

The gas stove is interesting. The burners have two settings, hot and hotter. I end up holding the pans up off the burner quite a bit of the time so things don't burn. That works fine most of the time, except for things that need to cook slowly, like rice. The oven works well. I haven't tried baking because I don't have bakeware, but I hope to go to a new store tomorrow that should have some.

On top of the microwave next to the toaster is our hot pot. Steve and Julie had one of these in London. It heats water up pronto. We use it mostly for tea and also for dishwashing water, since the tap just has lukewarm water. I'd like to get one when we're back in the states. It's faster than a teakettle on the stove.

You can see Paul's water purifier on the counter. We don't use it for water to drink plain, but have found it useful for other purposes. The good and bad thing about it, depending on your perspective, is that it does a great job of purifying the water, but it doesn't change the taste. That's bad for us, because the water here tastes dirty. But if you were a local person and used to the taste of the water, it would be good, because your water would be clean but taste just like you're used to. This is just the kind of information that we had hoped to glean through practical experience with using it ourselves here.

Well, that's about it for the kitchen. I'm getting more and more comfortable cooking in it, though our meals tend to be simple. It's bigger than Amy's kitchen was in Madison, so I feel like I'm doing all right.

Meet our co-workers

2009-09-18T07:40:00.000-07:00

Everyone at the EMI office has lunch together every day, including me - I make the eight minute walk from our apartment for it. Janet is the cook, and she always has a mix of Ugandan and American foods. It's traditional to have a hot lunch in Uganda, and it's the main meal of the day. It's an enjoyable time in interact with both the American and Ugandan staff. The American staff includes Brad, Janet and Jill, who are here long-term; the five interns, who are college age and here for three months; and Paul. The Ugandan staff includes Samai, who is the office administrative assistant; Stephen, head of the guards; and Janet, Stella, and Monica, who cook and clean. The Ugandans all speak good, if heavily accented, English.

We've had some interesting conversations the last couple days about cultural differences. The Ugandans have been with EMI for at least a couple years each, so they're somewhat familiar with American culture. One of them can apparently even say, "Hey, guys" in a decent American accent, but she was too shy to do it for us.

One of the women yesterday wanted some information about the U.S. confirmed. Was it accurate that we don't have any villages where people go to a community tap to get their water? And was it also true that no one carries anything around on their head? We told her both things were true. It seemed a little hard for her to fathom.

Then today we were talking about family relationships, and the Ugandans told us that when a man marries, he and his wife move in with his family and that is where they stay. The idea of moving away from home at about age 18 was uncomfortable for them. Also, one of them observed that in the U.S., parents support their children, while in Uganda, it is often the responsibility of the children to support their parents (that is, the children once they are teens and older). Anyway, this is the kind of discussion I love and I was glad the Ugandans were game to enter in.

The photos here are Paul with Stephen, and me with Janet and Stella.

Happy birthday, Mom! You're the best mom ever, and I hope you get lots of love today.

Karen

Tears

2009-09-16T00:05:00.000-07:00

Really, I've done pretty well. We've been here almost a month and I hadn't cried. I ended my streak this morning, though. There was no precipitating event - I was walking down the street and the tears just came. Here's a bit of wisdom that everyone over thirty probably already has discovered: knowing that something is going to be hard doesn't keep it from being hard when it happens. I knew that there would be times of loneliness and isolation when we went overseas, especially at the beginning. I had experienced it in Jordan years ago, and had also experienced it decreasing as I formed relationships with people and found things to do. I'm confident things will get better, but meantime, days alone in the apartment can get long.

There's another self-evident truth I've been reminded of as well. Your hard thing is hard for you. I know that what I'm going through is not the hardest thing in the world. We have friends and family whose lives are coming apart, who are struggling deeply with their children, who are jobless, who are sick. Comparing my problems with theirs gives me perspective. Nevertheless, isolation is my difficulty at this time, and it is hard for me. We're not all given the same load to bear, but we each have a load.

One last observation, and I'll stop. God seems more real, or maybe just more necessary, in difficulty. One blessing of having time on my hands is I have the luxury of reading the Bible and praying without rushing. My mind still wanders, but I have also gained sustenance from coming to the Bible with a very real sense of need. I'll be happy for this season to end, but I also hope to glean from it what I can while I'm in it.

For all our friends and family who are sympathetic and kind (that's everybody - we're lucky that way) I don't want to make you feel bad for me by what I've said. I really will perk back up, probably within the hour. I just thought I'd write down what I was feeling when I was feeling it. I'm sure I will soon echo the immortal words of the guy who was turned into a newt in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, " I got better!"

Popcorn

2009-09-15T05:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the power was out for longer than usual, for about seven hours, from 2 pm until 9 pm. It gets dark at seven every night year round since we're on the equator. We soon got tired of trying to read by candlelight, so we decided we'd make popcorn on our propane stove and invite the girls from the apartment downstairs to join us. A friend had recommended this brand of popcorn that comes in a can and it turned out to be quite tasty.

The girls, Teresa and Jean, are teachers at the international school nearby. We had a nice time getting to know them. Teresa grew up in Kenya and attended Rift Valley Academy where Scott is going. Jean is from New Jersey and knew where Ocean City is, my favorite place in the world, so I instantly felt a deep and lasting bond with her. I'm not sure she felt it too. Anyway, it's encouraging to see young people putting their faith into action by serving people around them. They're an example to us.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to wish Paul's mom, Ginny, a happy birthday. May we all be as full of life, as game, and as caring as she is when we grow up. Happy birthday, Bestemor!

Karen

Riots in Kampala

2009-09-13T03:22:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, we don't have pictures to post with this blog entry. There were riots in the city Thur. and Fri. over the visit of a tribal king. As we understand it, the King of Buganda, head of the largest tribal group in Uganda, was slated to visit a youth rally this week. Kings are allowed to exist in the country but only as cultural leaders, not as political figures. There is simmering tension about their role, however, and the King's planned visit brought this to the surface. Violence broke out between tribes and also between police forces and people the police thought were rioters. The military was brought in as well. As is often the case, it appeared looters took advantage of the situation and added to the violence.

This all happened far from us and so we were only indirectly affected. Roads were closed in town and people were advised to stay close to home. However, one of EMI's Ugandan workers had a bad time of it trying to get home Thur. evening. She lives across the city from our office. She had trouble finding a taxi (14-passenger vans running established routes) to take. She ended up in a park, running low and taking cover under vegetable stands. A boy nearby that they'd been talking to at one point was injured when he was hit by police with a gun butt. After some time she was able to jump in a taxi. Everyone had their heads down and there was gunfire. Eventually she made it home - and there she was back at work the next day!

On a cultural note, as she was telling me her story, she was smiling the whole time. I remarked on this to another Westerner later, and she told me that smiling and laughter is a frequent response to difficulty or stress. I suppose the nearest thing we Americans have to it is nervous laughter when we are confronted with an unfamiliar situation.

Meanwhile, the city appears to be back to normal, and hopefully will stay that way. What was merely an inconvenience for us was a tragedy for some, and if you think to pray for Kampala today, we would appreciate it.

Guards

2009-09-12T04:37:00.000-07:00

Medium and upper scale houses and apartments are always enclosed by walls and protected by guards. Our full-time guard, his wife, and their son live in the tiny shack that is pictured. The guard and his wife also perform outdoor cleaning and this morning their son climbed the stairs to our porch, found our mop, and was imitating his mom. I don't think it was cleaner when he left, but he was happy and we were, too.

Bad day for EMI

2009-09-10T11:12:00.000-07:00

Engineering Ministries International, the group Paul came to Uganda with, sent a team to Kenya last week to work on a facility design for a ministry group. Paul wasn't in the group, but it was people we know from our office here in Kampala. Yesterday morning while the group was out to breakfast, thieves broke into their hotel room and stole three computers, credit cards, and hundreds of dollars in cash. From what we heard, the group's driver saw the thieves running off but either didn't realize whose things they had or thought it too dangerous to follow them.

The good news was that information for the project wasn't taken, so the group can continue on. Also, the group's passports weren't stolen so everyone will be able to return to Uganda. There's a glimmer of hope that police will catch the thieves, but barring a genuine miracle, it's unlikely.

Puppets

2009-09-08T05:18:00.000-07:00

Before we left for Uganda, my friend Kathy and a couple young friends of hers made me some puppets to take. Another friend who had traveled to villages in Uganda had said they are a hit with kids. She was right!

When we went to the Ngenge villages last week, I pulled the puppets out a couple times. It was pretty apparent from the kids' reactions that they hadn't seen puppets before. They were intrigued but a little unsure what to do. They had the most fun when I put the puppets on their hands. It took a bold child to be the first each time, but once one child did then the others wanted to. Some understood that you put thumb and pinkie in the arms to make them work, but mostly they just liked having them on their hands. I only saw one other toy in any of the villages, and that was a key chain with a bear on it that one girl was holding.

Goat

2009-09-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a goat for Lia. They are everywhere. You should come visit them Lia, and bring your mom!
Karen

Our neighborhood

2009-09-06T05:33:00.000-07:00

Every neighborhood in Kampala is "mixed use" as far as I can tell. Ours is typical. Paul and I occupy the middle class, in our finished apartment building with electricity and running water. To our right are what I think of as the mansions. That's the top photo. They have columns, wide porches, and a lawn with manicured shrubs (one day someone was mowing the lawn and I went out to try to smell the freshly-mowed grass but couldn't catch a whiff). No one lives there, so they're rather mysterious.

Directly across the street from us (second photo) is what looks to me like a village. There are concrete huts with metal roofs around a dirt courtyard. There is no electricity or indoor plumbing. It's interesting to note that the whole area is quite clean. There is very little junk or trash around the houses. There is, however, an area right next to the houses where they appear to throw their trash. The goats and an occasional cow spend their days rooting through it. It's ironic that this village without any modern services is at the base of two cell towers. You can see the metal fence surrounding one to the right foreground of the second photo.

This contrast is typical everywhere you walk. Mixed in with the different types of housing are small storefronts or even just wooden stands along the roads where women are selling a few tomatoes and other vegetables.

Although I think of the village houses across the street from us as poor, they're not as poor as some. You're moving up in the world when you have concrete rather than mud or scrap boards for your house and metal rather than thatch for your roof.
Karen

Starting on the Ngenge Water Project

2009-09-05T03:54:00.000-07:00

Or, rather a continuation. The planning was initiated in earnest in February 2008; we met this past week with the Church of Uganda leaders who are actively striving to meet the water needs in the villages. It's time to move forward with implementing the improvements.

Karen joined me on the trip along with two other EMI folks: Janet, a long-term staff member in Uganda and Travis, an intern. We sandwiched meetings with the church leaders (Bishop Salimo, Rev.'s David, Moses, and others) around a visit to a few of the villages. There are more than twenty villages in all, ranging in size from a few families to several hundred people. The Ngenge area has been growing in population as more and more people return to their historical homeland following the quieting of conflicts in the past few years. Subsistence farming is the main livelihood. The crops are poor this year because of drought. September/October is harvest time but most of the maize we saw was dry and stunted. Several people expressed concern about famine.

What are we hoping to accomplish? There are two parts. One is to provide potable water for several villages that lack potable supplies. In some cases, that means repairing hand pumps (the India Mark II types for you water techies). In other cases, it means drilling new boreholes (wells). Part two is helping with irrigation improvements including a canal and loaning portable human-powered pumps. The underlying goal for all improvements is sustainability, which I'm defining as "long-lasting improvements that can be fully supported by the community." In other words, the improvements will be functioning if we return for a visit in ten years.

The photos show one of the broken hand pumps and a nearby stream that provides an alternative source of water. Yes, the water looks that muddy in real life and yes, that's a donkey wading in upstream. It's not a great source. The people do boil the water before drinking it, which requires scarce wood or charcoal and is inconvenient.

Nile River

2009-08-30T06:23:00.000-07:00

Here's another photo to go along with the previous entry. Karen (on the far left) and other EMI staff are looking out over the headwaters of the Nile River from the lower portion of the project site. Quite a view. We could see rafters tackling the first whitewater on a Class 5 rated whitewater trip.

Scott to RVA; Jinja Workday

2009-08-29T10:40:00.000-07:00

The EMI staff, the newly arrived eight EMI interns (recent or soon to be college graduates in engineering or architecture), and Karen and I traveled to Jinja today, which is about 2 hours east of Kampala. Two EMI couples, each with two young children, are living in Jinja to work on two major development projects for which EMI has provided design services. In addition to meeting the two families, we worked for several hours at one of the project sites. We helped dig the trenches for what will become the footings for a small dorm for the eventual youth retreat center. Talk about hard and hot work. I dug some but they needed an experienced (old) person on the level. The interns were all muscle and game but I'd have to say that the Ugandan EMI staff out-distanced them.

We still haven't fully emptied our suitcases. One reason is that we left Wednesday with Scott for Kenya to take him to his boarding school, the Rift Valley Academy. Scott seemed comfortable right away and we couldn't have been more pleased with the quality of teachers and dorm parents and the welcome that they gave to us. Bob and Patty, one of Scott's two in-country guardian families, were extremely gracious. They sent their driver to pick us up and it was a breath of fresh air to have dinner with them and spend the first night at their house. (The photo shows Scott and his roommate, Chase (far right), and one other friend, Colin, in Scott's dorm room. Chase's family is living in Tanzania.)

Karen and I leave Tuesday for our first trip to the Ngenge villages to begin the implementation of the water improvements. And, joy, we now have an internet connection at home! Joy mixed with frustration since it's only slightly faster than dial-up.

Kids everywhere play football (soccer)

2009-08-25T09:15:00.001-07:00

Our local produce stand

2009-08-25T08:55:00.001-07:00

More shopping

2009-08-24T09:46:00.001-07:00

Today was a good day for me. I'm not sure why, but I felt more relaxed than I had before, maybe just from getting more used to things. We went to the EMI office at 8:30 (about a 7 minute walk from our apt.) for the morning devotional time, then talked with staff over the next couple hours about Ugandan culture and other things. We asked about housekeeping tasks like how we get our propane cook tank refilled (call a motorcycle driver to pick up the old tank and deliver a new), when trash is picked up (day unknown but put it out by the gate), and when Stella would come to do laundry for us (she's sick but Harriet will come tomorrow morning and wash it by hand in tubs).

Then Alisha, the EMI director's wife, took us in her car on her weekly shopping trip. She goes to three western-style grocery stores (aisles! carts!) in a definite order depending on what each store has. We got quite a few more basic items, from chicken for tonight's dinner to a blanket for Scott to take to RVA. It was helpful to have her guided tour of brands and prices, as well as to be in a car that we could load up with the goods. It provided me not only with practical help, but a psychological lift. Things seemed more do-able this afternoon. Plus we ended the trip with ice cream, which helps in any country.

Karen

Arrived!

2009-08-23T06:31:00.000-07:00

We have been welcomed to Africa. After picking us up at the airport, the EMI staff delivered us to our bright yellow, freshly cleaned apartment. We so appreciate their help including the meals they've provided.

Our experiences are adding up quickly. Yesterday, we visited the Oweno Market in the company of two of the EMI staff women. We picked up a taxi (like a bus, but a van that hold 14 people). It wasn't a long way but we did get stuck in traffic jams at a couple intersections for long waits. The market was quite a sight. We estimated that there were a thousand stalls, many being just a 5' by 5' square of muddy ground. (We've had rains each of the three days so far.) We bought sheets, plastic containers, fruit, and vegetables. The pair of single bed sheets (for Scott to take to Kenya) cost 25,000 Uganda shillings ($12.50). The lady selling them to us pulled out various ones that we pointed to from her tall stack and displayed them for us as we tried hard to stay clear of the narrow isle and the many people walking by. I don't think we saw other non-Africans at the market.

Church this morning was a refreshing experience. We attended the one that meets at the Christian school that is located just 100 meters from our apartment. It had a mix of Africans, Britians, Americans, and other Europeans. We met in an open-air building. Somehow, it's more meaningful to sing the songs we've sung many times before in a new setting and among new people. In our brief conversations with people before and after the service, we talked to people working for World Relief, WaterAid (Britian's NGO for drinking water projects in the developing world), a Ugandan man involved in community development (including water projects) for his home villages, and another man wanting help with a water project. Exciting possibilities.

Paul

London Entry # 2

2009-08-19T13:34:00.000-07:00

Scott and Paul on our first morning. We took the subway from Steve and Julie's house and walked across the Thames.

This is me on the way to Harrod's (the building with the flags). We've been restrained from buying things because we don't have room in our suitcases, but I was tempted. What a lot of stuff!

Sorry the pictures and captions are mixed up, but I don't quite have this blog set-up figured out. If anyone can e-mail me with help on how to configure photos in blogspot I'd appreciate it. Also, I'll hope to get better at posting multiple pictures.

We've been having full days of sightseeing, then go home for dinner with Steve and Julie. Scott wasn't feeling too well yesterday so he spent the afternoon resting while Paul and I went to the Victoria and Albert Museum. He's gotten good enough on the subway system that he could get himself home fine. Today we went to the Tower of London and enjoyed it a lot. We tried to go to the Natural History Museum in the afternoon but were just too worn out, so we came home and relaxed. We have thoroughly enjoyed our stay in London.

London

2009-08-18T01:26:00.000-07:00

We arrived safely on Sun. and are having a fine time in London. Paul's cousin Julie and her husband Steve are great hosts. Yesterday we saw Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Trafalger Square, and Big Ben. We spent a couple hours in the Imperial War Museum, then met Julie and Steve for dinner at their favorite Indian restaurant in Covent Garden. Since we're spending most of our times in tourist areas there are crowds everywhere we go. Probably two-thirds of the snatches of conversation I hear as we pass by people on the street are in foreign languages.

Scott isn't feeling too well so we're starting our day out slowly today, trying to determine if it's jet lag or some kind of bug he picked up. If he's up to it our plan is to buy tickets for a multi-stop tour bus where you can get on and off all day. We'll see more sights.

The weather has been lovely, mid-70s and sunny. Julie and Steve have a gorgeous, if miniature by American standards, back yard, and we've been sitting out there mornings for breakfast. We'll try to start taking pictures, but until this morning we hadn't been able to find our camera in our nine suitcases.

A Group Effort

2009-08-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

We're humbled and encouraged by many people. It's clear that we're not in this alone. We're the tip of the iceberg (pun intended) supported by family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers. Thanks to all of you and we sincerely hope that you are encouraged as we do a small part to bring clean drinking water to the poor.

What have people done to help us out? Well, Chris built three prototypes of Paul's water purification invention so we can field test them in Uganda, Kathy made puppets for me to use with village children, Martha lent me Africa-appropriate clothes and a suitcase to put them in, Kim and Richard lent us two more large suitcases, Fred connected us with Nancy and Patty who have been filling me in on information about Scott's school, Julie connected me with a pastor friend in Kenya, Marc and Carol advised us out of their experiences in Uganda, Janet and Jill fixed up our apartment in Kampala so it will be ready for us, Scott and Tasha, and Lisa and Todd, and Elizabeth threw us going away parties, and a whole church in Alabama is praying for us. There are many more people who have helped us, but that's a sampling.

Here are two of the best things people have given us: money and time. I don't mean to be crass, but we couldn't do this without many people being generous with their hard-earned money. And time, because people have taken the time to be interested in what we're doing. They've asked questions and listened as we've explained what we have in mind. Our plans may be worlds away from what they have going on in their lives, but they've taken the time to care.

(The photo shows our kids from our last family outing before leaving for Africa. It doesn't directly relate to the above posting, although they've been our supporters, too.)