Businesses in Uganda haven't quite figured out competitiveness yet (most stores sell the same products at the same price and are located right next to each other), but it's refreshing to know that the spirit of entrepreneurship does indeed exist. Take for example the police check-points along my road:
The traffic police are quite corrupt, and stop taxis that are overfilled with passengers (my personal record was 9 adults and 4 children in a Toyota Corolla). According to law, only two people are allowed to be in the front seat, but typically taxis don't leave unless there are at least three - if not four - passengers up front with the driver. At the check-points (there is one between my site and Fort Portal, about 90 minutes away), instead of ticketing the driver, or revoking his license, the driver pays the "fee" of 2,000 Shillings ($1), and we continue on our way.
Now, an extra passenger gets the driver about 6,000 Shillings ($3), so there is an incentive to over-load the car because the driver still makes money in the deal.
Today was an interesting turn from normalcy in the traffic check-point story. As usual, our driver was warned of the up-coming traffic stop by passing cars. At a bend in the road about 300 meters before the check-point, the driver stops and two passengers in the front got out, leaving the driver and myself (four more remained in the back seat). The two men hopped on a waiting motorcycle, and took off down the road. We continued, got pulled over, talked to the police, didn't have to pay a fine, then continued about 300 meters to another bend in the road. Our two passengers were there waiting, got back in the car, and all eight of us took off again.
The price for the motorcycle was probably 500 Shillings, and the driver didn't have to pay the 2,000 Shilling fine. Everybody wins today, and corruption was stopped cold. Thank you, Uganda's finest!
18 June 2010
06 June 2010
Football
It had been a rather quiet day, not too much going on and admittedly, I was bored. In the late afternoon two of the girls from my vocational school passed by my house (both of them called Akiiki - so goes it when there are twelve possible nicknames in a culture) and told me that all of the students were up playing football; come join.
Football - what a great game. It's so simple, the rules are easy and you can play just about anywhere. In American golf is the game of the elite and basketball the game of the lower classes. In the rest of the world, football is the game everyone plays, and indeed World Cup begins on Friday (the most watched sporting event in the world). Every village has a pitch, some with timbers demarcating the goals, others with rocks or jerri-cans. They're a type of village park and town commons (grazing the cattle here keeps the grass low, but makes navigating through the dung piles quite difficult).
The balls can be as cheap or expensive as your resources allow - black and white imports from Kenya or China, to plastic sacks bound together with banana fibre.
And here you don't "play football," instead you "kuzina omupira" - dance football.
A student from our vocational school out playing on our village pitch. The other students play behind.
Students from our vocational school, taking a break from the game.
Football - what a great game. It's so simple, the rules are easy and you can play just about anywhere. In American golf is the game of the elite and basketball the game of the lower classes. In the rest of the world, football is the game everyone plays, and indeed World Cup begins on Friday (the most watched sporting event in the world). Every village has a pitch, some with timbers demarcating the goals, others with rocks or jerri-cans. They're a type of village park and town commons (grazing the cattle here keeps the grass low, but makes navigating through the dung piles quite difficult).
The balls can be as cheap or expensive as your resources allow - black and white imports from Kenya or China, to plastic sacks bound together with banana fibre.
And here you don't "play football," instead you "kuzina omupira" - dance football.
A student from our vocational school out playing on our village pitch. The other students play behind.
Students from our vocational school, taking a break from the game.
23 May 2010
There is No Frozen Marie Calendars in Africa
There are a variety of things I never imagined myself saying twelve months ago, or absolutely abnormal situations where now I hardly thing anything is wrong. In a month my mom will be coming out to visit for three weeks, and I'm really excited to get a new person's perspective again on living in East Africa. Here are some examples:
- Seeing four - or the occasional five - people on a motorcycle;
- Needing 4WD in the downtown of a capital city, due to the car-swallowing pot holes;
- Charging your cell phone from a jerry-rigged car battery
- Five people per row on a bus - that's all?
- Ten grown people (I've seen 12) in a Toyota Corolla? I think we can fit another;
- Maneuvering through a herd of cows on the way to work
Last week was the second installment of my baking class with a local woman's group. The first week we made a basic yellow cake, and this last week we mixed it up a bit and added some bananas. I have to admit, it was pretty tasty, and the women seem to be having a blast, too. Since ovens are pretty rare, we have been baking on a charcoal stove dutch-oven style. It's taken some perfecting, but I think we're getting it down. Here are some pictures of the escapades:
Mixing the batter... it's actually quite easy because all I do watch them do the work, and comment occasionally on what to add or what to do next.
Trying the finished product - quite tasty!
And the woman rejoice!
For a quick overview of my "project," the woman's group wanted to learn how to make cakes so they can make them at home for celebrations, weddings, etc. Ugandan cakes are terrible, dry and stale, so making Western cakes is definitely a change from their normal tastes. There are 18 woman and two men. Included in my curriculum is pricing and costing each recipe we make, in an attempt to teach them how to break down a unit-cost of a product to determine how much it costs to produce, then to figure out how much they would have to sell it for.
Beyond this economic stuff, I think they are really enjoying just getting together, mixing stuff up, and eating cake at the end of the day! On Thursday we're trying out chocolate cake :)
- Seeing four - or the occasional five - people on a motorcycle;
- Needing 4WD in the downtown of a capital city, due to the car-swallowing pot holes;
- Charging your cell phone from a jerry-rigged car battery
- Five people per row on a bus - that's all?
- Ten grown people (I've seen 12) in a Toyota Corolla? I think we can fit another;
- Maneuvering through a herd of cows on the way to work
Last week was the second installment of my baking class with a local woman's group. The first week we made a basic yellow cake, and this last week we mixed it up a bit and added some bananas. I have to admit, it was pretty tasty, and the women seem to be having a blast, too. Since ovens are pretty rare, we have been baking on a charcoal stove dutch-oven style. It's taken some perfecting, but I think we're getting it down. Here are some pictures of the escapades:
Mixing the batter... it's actually quite easy because all I do watch them do the work, and comment occasionally on what to add or what to do next.
Trying the finished product - quite tasty!
And the woman rejoice!
For a quick overview of my "project," the woman's group wanted to learn how to make cakes so they can make them at home for celebrations, weddings, etc. Ugandan cakes are terrible, dry and stale, so making Western cakes is definitely a change from their normal tastes. There are 18 woman and two men. Included in my curriculum is pricing and costing each recipe we make, in an attempt to teach them how to break down a unit-cost of a product to determine how much it costs to produce, then to figure out how much they would have to sell it for.
Beyond this economic stuff, I think they are really enjoying just getting together, mixing stuff up, and eating cake at the end of the day! On Thursday we're trying out chocolate cake :)
29 March 2010
Buzzwords, Now 50% Off
My purpose in Uganda is to build the capacities of local communities by providing a holistic approach to economic empowerment using community linkages at the grassroots level.
That sounds pretty, but what am I doing exactly? Well, right now I'm planting a garden.
Buzzwords are a part of every industry, and the development industry is no exception. Appearing in mission statements, organizational goals and objectives, annual reports and funding proposals, the buzzword appears to give meaning or significant weight to an undefined concept. "Capacity building" sounds really neat, and reading over it I almost smile at the simplicity of the concept. Yes, of course, more capacity building is what the rural poor need to rise above their poverty! But ask somebody what exactly that entails, and they usually rephrase the buzzword with more ambiguity ("build their capacity to empower themselves and enable them to own their development"). For me personally, this is perhaps the most frustrating part of talking with people about what exactly is going on.
Alas, buzzwords will never go away, so perhaps we should embrace them and march forward in our quest for poverty reduction and livelihood improvement through community empowerment.
That sounds pretty, but what am I doing exactly? Well, right now I'm planting a garden.
Buzzwords are a part of every industry, and the development industry is no exception. Appearing in mission statements, organizational goals and objectives, annual reports and funding proposals, the buzzword appears to give meaning or significant weight to an undefined concept. "Capacity building" sounds really neat, and reading over it I almost smile at the simplicity of the concept. Yes, of course, more capacity building is what the rural poor need to rise above their poverty! But ask somebody what exactly that entails, and they usually rephrase the buzzword with more ambiguity ("build their capacity to empower themselves and enable them to own their development"). For me personally, this is perhaps the most frustrating part of talking with people about what exactly is going on.
Alas, buzzwords will never go away, so perhaps we should embrace them and march forward in our quest for poverty reduction and livelihood improvement through community empowerment.
25 February 2010
Angling
The old proverb goes, "Give a man a fish and he eats for a meal. Teach a man how to fish and he eats for a lifetime." (Was it Aesop who wrote it?)
I come across that saying (or was it Confucius?) frequently, and admittedly it is somewhat annoying and oversimplifies a complicated situation:
First, it assumes that the man wants to learn. In populations around the world, and especially in situations of poverty, there is always an element of apathy. In America you can find people who take advantage of welfare and do nothing to improve their lives. In Uganda, there are people drunk at 9am every morning. They will not take the initiative to change their lives no matter how much is done to try. That said, there usually is also a group of people in an underprivileged class with the ability and will to change. Finding these people are key. But teaching them to fish is only step one. You must also provide them with a loan to buy a fishing pole or net. You need to teach them how to be fiscally responsible with their new-found wealth. Above all, you have to make sure fishing is the most economically-viable way for them to produce. Maybe growing a staple like potatoes or millet takes too much time, and even if you teach them and support them in fishing, they will go back to farming because it provides more food with less time/effort.
Second, it does not take into account any moral responsibility. If you can teach a person to fish, and he does, there will also be one person who is apathetic and uninterested in working toward his progress. Do we then have a moral responsibility or obligation to continue giving them fish so they don't starve? What does that do to any jealousies or relationships within the small village social circle?
Third, it assumes a person has a direction and positive outlook on their life, which I think is typically a Western view of life. In the developing world life expectancy is so varied. From my limited experience people do not have the same views of life as we do in the West. Death is just as integral part of daily life as living. In the past three months a local Anglican bishop and a Catholic priest have died in car accidents. In my village there is probably one burial a week. Malaria is the number-one killer, and AIDS prevalence remains high. Not to mention malnutrition significantly reduces a child's development to become a healthy, strong adult better able to fight the diseases they encounter every day. I don't think most people plan for the future because they could die in six months, or five years. Instead they live more on a day-to-day basis. Thus, teaching a man to sell his fish, or value-add to his fish (by frying it and serving it with french fries!), and save for the future, just may not be realistic. He may be better satisfied by immediately spending money from his daily catch on booze, or a new shirt, and not save it for the future. Instant gratification is one thing, but gratification before you die is another. That said, insuring your children are healthy and educated is above-all the most important thing they can do.
So, maybe we can change the proverb (was it an old Jewish saying?):
Give a man a fish and he won't starve. Teach a man how to fish, provide him support in his new enterprise (including capital, business education, and information on savings and investing), and you give him the tools to change his life, if he wants.
I come across that saying (or was it Confucius?) frequently, and admittedly it is somewhat annoying and oversimplifies a complicated situation:
First, it assumes that the man wants to learn. In populations around the world, and especially in situations of poverty, there is always an element of apathy. In America you can find people who take advantage of welfare and do nothing to improve their lives. In Uganda, there are people drunk at 9am every morning. They will not take the initiative to change their lives no matter how much is done to try. That said, there usually is also a group of people in an underprivileged class with the ability and will to change. Finding these people are key. But teaching them to fish is only step one. You must also provide them with a loan to buy a fishing pole or net. You need to teach them how to be fiscally responsible with their new-found wealth. Above all, you have to make sure fishing is the most economically-viable way for them to produce. Maybe growing a staple like potatoes or millet takes too much time, and even if you teach them and support them in fishing, they will go back to farming because it provides more food with less time/effort.
Second, it does not take into account any moral responsibility. If you can teach a person to fish, and he does, there will also be one person who is apathetic and uninterested in working toward his progress. Do we then have a moral responsibility or obligation to continue giving them fish so they don't starve? What does that do to any jealousies or relationships within the small village social circle?
Third, it assumes a person has a direction and positive outlook on their life, which I think is typically a Western view of life. In the developing world life expectancy is so varied. From my limited experience people do not have the same views of life as we do in the West. Death is just as integral part of daily life as living. In the past three months a local Anglican bishop and a Catholic priest have died in car accidents. In my village there is probably one burial a week. Malaria is the number-one killer, and AIDS prevalence remains high. Not to mention malnutrition significantly reduces a child's development to become a healthy, strong adult better able to fight the diseases they encounter every day. I don't think most people plan for the future because they could die in six months, or five years. Instead they live more on a day-to-day basis. Thus, teaching a man to sell his fish, or value-add to his fish (by frying it and serving it with french fries!), and save for the future, just may not be realistic. He may be better satisfied by immediately spending money from his daily catch on booze, or a new shirt, and not save it for the future. Instant gratification is one thing, but gratification before you die is another. That said, insuring your children are healthy and educated is above-all the most important thing they can do.
So, maybe we can change the proverb (was it an old Jewish saying?):
Give a man a fish and he won't starve. Teach a man how to fish, provide him support in his new enterprise (including capital, business education, and information on savings and investing), and you give him the tools to change his life, if he wants.
13 February 2010
Time, Is On My Side
In Spanish it is called "Mañana Mañana." In English it's the adage "Why do today what you can do tomorrow?" In Africa you frequently hear about "African Time," or "I'm not on time, I'm in time."
During pre-service training we were continually warned about the frustration that can occur with African time and some ways to cope, including bringing a book and your patience. I have been working here for over three months now, and I've learned that when someone says there's a meeting at 10am, it won't actually start until noon. I know this; I plan for this. Yet, it still drives me absolutely nuts.
To provide an example, yesterday was just a typical day. I planned to do three things: 1) Attend a youth meeting regarding a farm project, 11am; 2) Find bananas, cut them, and put them in my solar dryer; 3) Bake some bread (needing to get some flour first). Three simple tasks, and there should be time enough to do them all.
Planning ahead was my first mistake.
This is how the day unfolded:
1) My bike being broken, I waked the 4km (2.5mi) to the Parish where I was to meet some youth for a meeting. I got there at 11am, knowing well that it wouldn't start on time. I talked to some of the teachers and the priests, had lunch, and then finally we started the meeting at noon - early! Granted, only 8 people showed up. An hour later the meeting was over. The Parish is in the larger trading centre, so I planned to find bananas (this is a Banana Republic, it shouldn't be difficult), and flour, and head home.
2) 1:00 pm: Upon the insistence of Father Silver, the parish priest, I couldn't walk back because we have been having a heat-wave and it was too hot; he would drive me into the trading centre, then home. But first he had matters to attend to.
2:00pm: Still waiting, I passed the time under a tree talking with some teachers. Remembering I wanted to buy a desk, one of the teachers walked me over to a local carpenter to discuss business (a carpenter in Kamwenge wanted 60,000 UGX, the local guy wanted 25,000 UGX for the same thing). I only had 12,000 UGX to buy bananas and flour, and the carpenter wanted 10,000 UGX in advance to pay for some materials, so I was left with only 2,000.
3:00pm: The parish priest informs me that he needs to take some corn (about 450KG of it) to the mill near where I stay. But he needs to recruit some boys to help load/unload it.
4:00pm: Finally becoming annoyed, hungry, and dehydrated, I found the priest and he was finally ready to go.
4:15pm: In the trading centre there were no bananas. No Bananas!! And I didn't have enough money to buy flour.
4:30pm: Reach the mill. Unload the corn, talk to the millers a bit, wait.
4:50pm: Finally reach home. If I had found bananas, it would have been too late to put them out to dry. If I had bought flour, I could start baking, but alas I didn't. I would just have to wait until tomorrow and try again. I was most annoyed at the fact that I lost a day to dry fruit, and I lost a day to improve my baking (both projects are on rather strict deadlines).
What's the moral of the story? In Uganda planning ahead is vital. This week my trading centre only had onions - I had no fresh food and lived on oatmeal and noodles. To get fresh food one must travel about 4km to a market, which are only held on certain days, and I have no working bike currently. If you plan ahead by one week, you can manage. If you don't, you're stuck living on oatmeal.
During pre-service training we were continually warned about the frustration that can occur with African time and some ways to cope, including bringing a book and your patience. I have been working here for over three months now, and I've learned that when someone says there's a meeting at 10am, it won't actually start until noon. I know this; I plan for this. Yet, it still drives me absolutely nuts.
To provide an example, yesterday was just a typical day. I planned to do three things: 1) Attend a youth meeting regarding a farm project, 11am; 2) Find bananas, cut them, and put them in my solar dryer; 3) Bake some bread (needing to get some flour first). Three simple tasks, and there should be time enough to do them all.
Planning ahead was my first mistake.
This is how the day unfolded:
1) My bike being broken, I waked the 4km (2.5mi) to the Parish where I was to meet some youth for a meeting. I got there at 11am, knowing well that it wouldn't start on time. I talked to some of the teachers and the priests, had lunch, and then finally we started the meeting at noon - early! Granted, only 8 people showed up. An hour later the meeting was over. The Parish is in the larger trading centre, so I planned to find bananas (this is a Banana Republic, it shouldn't be difficult), and flour, and head home.
2) 1:00 pm: Upon the insistence of Father Silver, the parish priest, I couldn't walk back because we have been having a heat-wave and it was too hot; he would drive me into the trading centre, then home. But first he had matters to attend to.
2:00pm: Still waiting, I passed the time under a tree talking with some teachers. Remembering I wanted to buy a desk, one of the teachers walked me over to a local carpenter to discuss business (a carpenter in Kamwenge wanted 60,000 UGX, the local guy wanted 25,000 UGX for the same thing). I only had 12,000 UGX to buy bananas and flour, and the carpenter wanted 10,000 UGX in advance to pay for some materials, so I was left with only 2,000.
3:00pm: The parish priest informs me that he needs to take some corn (about 450KG of it) to the mill near where I stay. But he needs to recruit some boys to help load/unload it.
4:00pm: Finally becoming annoyed, hungry, and dehydrated, I found the priest and he was finally ready to go.
4:15pm: In the trading centre there were no bananas. No Bananas!! And I didn't have enough money to buy flour.
4:30pm: Reach the mill. Unload the corn, talk to the millers a bit, wait.
4:50pm: Finally reach home. If I had found bananas, it would have been too late to put them out to dry. If I had bought flour, I could start baking, but alas I didn't. I would just have to wait until tomorrow and try again. I was most annoyed at the fact that I lost a day to dry fruit, and I lost a day to improve my baking (both projects are on rather strict deadlines).
What's the moral of the story? In Uganda planning ahead is vital. This week my trading centre only had onions - I had no fresh food and lived on oatmeal and noodles. To get fresh food one must travel about 4km to a market, which are only held on certain days, and I have no working bike currently. If you plan ahead by one week, you can manage. If you don't, you're stuck living on oatmeal.
30 January 2010
Pink Elephants on Parade!
Just posting a random elephant shot
(FYI, another volunteer's photo, but I saw it, I swear!)
25 December 2009
Tales from the Other Side
To get to my site, from Fort Portal you basically hang a left on the road to Kamwenge. This road, a wondrous 70-odd-kilometer murrum journey, takes you through stunning tea estates and notably Kibale Forest National Park, which is renown for its chimpanzees and other primates. This footage was taken from the car on an average day passing through the forest. There were about three times as many baboons as you see in the footage, and usually they just hang out and play on the road. The kids even sell lemonaid on particularly hot days.
Continuing south on the road another 70 or so kilometers of wondrous murrum you will eventually reach Ibanda, a regional centre in the Southern Hemisphere.
Last weekend I crossed over to the Other Side. There was an event in honouring a priest's 25 years of priesthood in Ibanda, and the priests I have been working with invited me to come along. I also got to hang out with Jill for the weekend, another volunteer in Ibanda. Now, Ibanda is in the Southern Hemisphere, and it was my second time to the Other Side. If you have never been, I'm sure you have many questions about what it's like down there, so I've put together a Q and A of sorts about the upside-down hemisphere.
Q: Hemispheres? I thought the world was flat!
A: Not since the UN Security Council passed the resolution that eliminated planar living.
Q: How do you keep from falling off the earth?
A: As you know, the farther you travel toward the South Pole, the more upside down you are, and the higher your risk of falling off the planet. At the equator this isn't so much of a problem, but when you go further south people have to wear a special shoe with glue on them. Similarly 3M has developed a resin for the lakes and rivers so they don't drop into space. Interestingly, people wear more hats there.
Q: What's the driving like?
A: Driving is very similar to the Northern Hemisphere, but as long as you're heading south everything slopes downhill so theoretically you can get to Antarctica in neutral.
Q: Is it true that water spins the other way down drains?
A: This is a trick question - there are no holes in which water can drain. People in the Southern Hemisphere use pit latrines and don't have piped water, so it's impossible to know if this myth is actually true.
Happy Christmas
First off, Happy Christmas! I am spending the holidays in Hoima, a regional centre near Lake Albert (and the epicentre for the oil discoveries), with my host family from Wakiso. They are from here, so the day has been filled with meeting relatives in this huge family (I think there are 20 grandchildren...?). The patriarch is a retired Anglican bishop, my host-dad's dad. Aside from the nearly 4-hour church service, we have basically been eating all day (and praying, singing carols, reciting Bible verses, and then eating more). It's much more family-oriented than in America, and no presents were exchanged. Everyone has been very welcoming and friendly and have made me feel a part of the family. There is also no shortage of children to chase around. That said, I've been very homesick the last few days thinking mainly of what everyone at home is doing. I miss my friends and my family, and knowing that the first time I see my nephew he'll be walking/talking puts the whole "two-year commitment" into perspective. This is Christmas 1. One down, one to go.
I'm staying in the hotel the family operates and am very much enjoying the hot water, toilet, and queen bed. There's also a pool. All said it's been a nice vacation. I leave Sunday or Monday to head back to my site where I'm still busy with my pineapple project. It's strange how much I've learned about pineapple... I talked to one of the family members at dinner tonight who wants to put in pineapple for about 20 minutes.
Here's my Christmas photo:
I'm staying in the hotel the family operates and am very much enjoying the hot water, toilet, and queen bed. There's also a pool. All said it's been a nice vacation. I leave Sunday or Monday to head back to my site where I'm still busy with my pineapple project. It's strange how much I've learned about pineapple... I talked to one of the family members at dinner tonight who wants to put in pineapple for about 20 minutes.
Here's my Christmas photo:
15 December 2009
O Holy Might
Internet connectivity has lately been a main source of my consternation.
Yes, you cannot rely too much on internet here, but even in the larger metropoli
of Kamwenge and Fort Portal (both boasting paved or graveled roads, running water, and
electricity), the internet has of late been as spotty as a Dalmatian. I
finally found out the reason: they are updating the lines into Fort Portal,
updating to broadband. At least it's for a positive reason, though the
chain gang has been hand-digging the ditch through town for the past two
weeks, and since this is Uganda, there is no guarantee of when a connection
will be permanently restored. Until then, I will continue to chase this
powerful and elusive Internet, hoping to find it during a flicker of its
short life.
Last week I met a priest at our local parish who had asked to meet me
because he had learned though his sources that I knew German. Every
subsequent day last week was spent at the parish (they cook good food!)
where I tutored Father Silver and, to a lesser extent, Father John, in
German. Father Silver is trying to "priest abroad" next summer in Germany and needs help practicing, and since he said the parish is now my home-away
-from-village-home, I am obliging. It's nice to spend time with people much
like myself - bored, lots of free time, sexually frustrated. Although, at dinner
one night they asked me to say grace. My religious background is admittedly
small, my recent religious occurrences being spontaneous prayers to any -
ALL - Gods while riding in the local taxis.
We stood around the table behind our chairs, the food steaming in front of
us. "Mathayo, would you like to say prayers tonight?" My immediate come-
back was: "You're a priest, you get paid to pray, you do it," but instead I
hesitantly said okay. I wish there were a video camera because in my mind's
eye it was like something out of an awkward Christopher Guest movie: "Thank
you very much for the wonderful food in front of us, and thank you for
inviting me to enjoy it with you. I appreciate your kindness and hospitality."
No Gods, no heavenly fathers, no in Jesus' names. Luckily my audience
wasn't too critical.
Both Fathers and I spent one day last week traveling toward Kasese (about a 2 hour ride) to celebrate a group of pre-nuns becoming current-nuns. Aside from being the only white guy there (I'm used to it), I was almost the only one without either a white collar or a white dress/hat combo. It was like a graduation ceremony, long and boring, and there wasn't enough room in the church so I ended up just sitting in the car reading. After, in good Ugandan tradition, there was a buffet of local food, and instead of eating with the commoners, I was ushered by some head-nun into the religious dinning section to consume my blessed matooke and cassava with the area's most pious. By the time I got my food the only place to sit was next to this guy whose robes were black (instead of white), and who wore a red yamica. I sat down and introduced myself. "I'm the Bishop," was his reply. Aim high, Matt, aim high. At least now I can say that I've had lunch with a Bishop, though curiously the entire time I was more focused on not spilling food on his robes, as is my usual propensity when I eat, instead of our conversation. I couldn't imagine hand-washing those!
Father Silver and I are working on starting a youth garden at the parish,
teaching youths nutrition, farming, and cooking healthier food. I'm quickly becoming a farmer, and I foresee more awkward situations for my agnostic self in the coming future.
Our solar drying project is quickly coming to fruition (pardon the intended
pun). We are giving a project proposal to our local Member of Parliament
tomorrow, and a co-worker, Sam, and I are busy this week working in the
field visiting pineapple farms. It provides a good opportunity to meet more of the locals and I find I am most happy here when I'm working directly with The People. Though, the distances we have to bike are a bit of a hassle (yesterday was about 40km - 25mi). The only saving grace is the beautiful countryside. We are hoping to begin full-scale solar drying pineapple in January/February, the height of both the dry and pineapple seasons.
Looking at the calendar ahead:
Mid-January I have a week of further language training with my language
group. The week after is an in-service training outside of Kampala, at a
nice hotel with a pool and luke-warm showers. I'm excited. There is also
an R-Kelly concert in Kampala and Evander Holifield is fighting at Mandela
Stadium.
Yes, you cannot rely too much on internet here, but even in the larger metropoli
of Kamwenge and Fort Portal (both boasting paved or graveled roads, running water, and
electricity), the internet has of late been as spotty as a Dalmatian. I
finally found out the reason: they are updating the lines into Fort Portal,
updating to broadband. At least it's for a positive reason, though the
chain gang has been hand-digging the ditch through town for the past two
weeks, and since this is Uganda, there is no guarantee of when a connection
will be permanently restored. Until then, I will continue to chase this
powerful and elusive Internet, hoping to find it during a flicker of its
short life.
Last week I met a priest at our local parish who had asked to meet me
because he had learned though his sources that I knew German. Every
subsequent day last week was spent at the parish (they cook good food!)
where I tutored Father Silver and, to a lesser extent, Father John, in
German. Father Silver is trying to "priest abroad" next summer in Germany and needs help practicing, and since he said the parish is now my home-away
-from-village-home, I am obliging. It's nice to spend time with people much
like myself - bored, lots of free time, sexually frustrated. Although, at dinner
one night they asked me to say grace. My religious background is admittedly
small, my recent religious occurrences being spontaneous prayers to any -
ALL - Gods while riding in the local taxis.
We stood around the table behind our chairs, the food steaming in front of
us. "Mathayo, would you like to say prayers tonight?" My immediate come-
back was: "You're a priest, you get paid to pray, you do it," but instead I
hesitantly said okay. I wish there were a video camera because in my mind's
eye it was like something out of an awkward Christopher Guest movie: "Thank
you very much for the wonderful food in front of us, and thank you for
inviting me to enjoy it with you. I appreciate your kindness and hospitality."
No Gods, no heavenly fathers, no in Jesus' names. Luckily my audience
wasn't too critical.
Both Fathers and I spent one day last week traveling toward Kasese (about a 2 hour ride) to celebrate a group of pre-nuns becoming current-nuns. Aside from being the only white guy there (I'm used to it), I was almost the only one without either a white collar or a white dress/hat combo. It was like a graduation ceremony, long and boring, and there wasn't enough room in the church so I ended up just sitting in the car reading. After, in good Ugandan tradition, there was a buffet of local food, and instead of eating with the commoners, I was ushered by some head-nun into the religious dinning section to consume my blessed matooke and cassava with the area's most pious. By the time I got my food the only place to sit was next to this guy whose robes were black (instead of white), and who wore a red yamica. I sat down and introduced myself. "I'm the Bishop," was his reply. Aim high, Matt, aim high. At least now I can say that I've had lunch with a Bishop, though curiously the entire time I was more focused on not spilling food on his robes, as is my usual propensity when I eat, instead of our conversation. I couldn't imagine hand-washing those!
Father Silver and I are working on starting a youth garden at the parish,
teaching youths nutrition, farming, and cooking healthier food. I'm quickly becoming a farmer, and I foresee more awkward situations for my agnostic self in the coming future.
Our solar drying project is quickly coming to fruition (pardon the intended
pun). We are giving a project proposal to our local Member of Parliament
tomorrow, and a co-worker, Sam, and I are busy this week working in the
field visiting pineapple farms. It provides a good opportunity to meet more of the locals and I find I am most happy here when I'm working directly with The People. Though, the distances we have to bike are a bit of a hassle (yesterday was about 40km - 25mi). The only saving grace is the beautiful countryside. We are hoping to begin full-scale solar drying pineapple in January/February, the height of both the dry and pineapple seasons.
Looking at the calendar ahead:
Mid-January I have a week of further language training with my language
group. The week after is an in-service training outside of Kampala, at a
nice hotel with a pool and luke-warm showers. I'm excited. There is also
an R-Kelly concert in Kampala and Evander Holifield is fighting at Mandela
Stadium.
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