Come good rain

After a long electioneering period fraught with police patrols, yellow shirts, holidays for voting, finger pointing, interesting ballots , accusations, the big man is back to make it an even thirty years, and calm prevails…..

Now.  Well, here we are.

 Waiting for the rainy season, which we are told changes many things, especially the roads and ease of transport.    Can’t imagine how small transport trucks will manage.  I saw one of these a couple of days ago.  It was a regular sized pickup with large full sacks up to the sides of the box and piled into a pyramid.  On top were seated 21 adults (I counted ) plus a few live chickens and a piece of baggage or two.   The driver says it’s not a problem, but those big lorries which combine goats and cows with people sure are…..

The other day a very large Coke truck overturned cascading bottles on the bank. Lots of willing hands helped to remove the mess.  Timely in this thirsty weather!

With rain creepy crawlies and critters will emerge they say.

 Everywhere in Uganda, but especially here in the rural areas, the roads are now deeply potholed and consist of several inches of red dust.

Trucks fly past engulfed in thick clouds of the stuff, coating everything in their path.  Rod and his motocycle included…..

When is that rain coming……

Everyday dawns bright and hot. Like the Okanagan hottest summer days, dry, and hot. Meanwhile, it’s –minus 21 degrees celcius in Calgary.

At the moment there is a significantly delayed start to the rain, and a dire warning for everyone to expect and prepare for famine.   People are busily digging up remaining crops of cassava, peeling, slicing and drying it in the sun in preparation.

Daily food for many Ugandans is beans and posho, that is, ground cooked cassava….which looks and tastes a lot like thick cold cream of wheat to me.  You just make a ball of posho in the palm of your hand,  push in a little hole with your thumb….. presto, you have a handy dandy scoop for the beans.  Why would anyone want cutlery?

Right now, lots of food is available, but the crops are usually planted by about the middle of February with the rains, and no one has anything planted yet.

Just another hurdle for everyday existence….  No gain without sweat as they say here.

Carol has been busy driving “deep”….  (that is to say, the driver is. She just sits there.)    Aiming to visit many schools before the onslaught of mud, and water….   Everyday the driver carefully washes the vehicle after our return, only to coat it in red dust the next day.

Schools are eye opening, interesting, unbelievable……   imagine 800 pairs of curious eyes, all those minds wondering, does that skin colour rub off?   Some tiny ones  shriek and run at the sight of such ghostly creatures !

Uganda has a policy of universal primary education for all.  This means schools around every corner, exploding with children bent on a better future through education.  Small children are in the largest classes, and most unlikely to have desks.

The sight of a white face and everyone is immediately on their feet, crying “welcome, our visitor!”

You’ve got to love the spontaneous singing of hundreds of African children…

Often those basic brick and concrete rooms contain 5 times the number of children in a Canadian classroom, one teacher at the helm.

Unfortunately there is little money to support the schools…… with the result being overcrowded classrooms, missing teachers, little children sitting on floors, formal methods …. Chalk and chalkboard is the only supply many have.  And tests.  Tests.

So, my job, to observe, think, smile, collect the facts, talk with head teachers and teachers about ways to improve basic school systems and offer support to the Coordinating Tutors whose job it is to encourage change.

 Sharing ways to make teaching reading and writing interesting and child friendly is easy, but never thought I’d be explaining the need to keep the goats and pigs away!  Domestic animals are intruders in schools….

Rod……..running, repairing a motorcycle, hanging the washing, whacking down the grass with a panga, wearing a motorcycle helmet, putting flowers behind his ears to entertain the children, pothole rider… oops, dropping pineapples off his bike….

 Western men are just plain weird!    Sometimes even domestic.

He’s ferreting out ways to help out, making management plans for a borehole drilling ngo, talking with disabled people at their youth employment workshop, talking to forestry people who need help but have no money for programs, talking to universities who need a lecturer but have no money for programs…. So it goes. 

Photos to tell the tale ……

School borehole

Borehole line up

Teachers' huts & school bell

Staff room water source

P7 hanging out, outside their classroom

Creative motorcar maker

Roadside curious children

Matoke Truck

Lake Bunyoni in the far south of Uganda

Lake Bunyoni

Roadside symmetry

Basket makers

Playing in the cassava pail

Cassava drying

Easy rider

Good news; Bad news or Tempting the Mango Fly

Christmas It was a good Christmas and New Years here, albeit very quiet at the College when we were there.  We visited Graham’s and Laurie’s friend Joseph and his family over Christmas and then did the tourist thing in Murchison Falls National Park.  Joseph is a driver for an NGO in Northern Uganda.  He was one of the first wave of refugees into Uganda in the early 1990’s fleeing the Sudanese insurgency.  It is quite a story in itself. A person I could look up to ... literally & figuratively I think he hopes the upcoming Southern Sudan secession vote goes peacefully and the new country moves to normal relations with Northern Sudan so he and his family will have the option to return once the children have completed their education. Joseph is trying to support his children and extended family through schooling here but even though it is supposed to be free, there are hefty fees (many parents here will go hungry in order to send their children to school).  In Joseph’s case it is a little more difficult as he lost his wife in child birth a few years ago.  A month ago he also lost his eldest son to a lorry accident in Sudan.  People here are so resilient in the face of personal hardship! I think Joseph and his family appreciated a few laughs on the muzungus over Christmas.  We are rather confused by things here at times!  This family is certainly one I can look up to … I swear the teenagers are a foot taller than me.  We had enough battery life & internet airtime so the family could have a Skype video call with Laurie, Graham, and Arden.  They loved it as they hadn't seen each other for 4 or 5 years.  Needless to say we enjoyed seeing the Bostonians as well. At the "Palace" with a marabou stork (could be messy!) While visiting our friends we stayed in the Gracious Palace Hotel which was nice and affordable but alas, alcohol free.  A cold Nile Special, Bell, or Club is good on a hot afternoon.  Unfortunately for most Ugandans prices on everything especially bus fares go way up at Christmas just as people try to make it back to their home villages.  It really creates hardship for many as cash is generally in short supply. Lack of a cold beer versus not being able to visit your family once a year at Christmas puts things in perspective. New Years Over New Year we spent 3 nights in Murchison Falls Park, admiring the falls on the River Nile and the many, many animals.  The giant crocs at the base of the falls were impressive (sailing to the song … don’t rock the boat baby, don’t tip the boat over…) as were the elephants, hippos, and giraffe.  Unfortunately we didn’t see lions or the elusive shoebill stork favoured by many great white photo hunters.  At the risk of being anti-wildlife I don’t really see the fixation with this bird given the other species and mass of amazing sites and contradictions one sees in Uganda. The lodge we stayed in had good food and a very peaceful atmosphere.  They didn’t have any New Year’s Eve events so it was too quiet, at least until a Park Ranger said he would bring in the New Year with a couple of rounds from his AK 47.  We spent some time afterward listening (after the ringing in the ears subsided) to his stories of animal encounters and the funny things tourists do.  He was a great example of how friendly Ugandans are … no really!  The weapons are to protect tourists from animals and guard against armed poachers.  It has only been 4 years since this park was reopened following years of threat and attack by the Lord’s Resistance Army. Peek-a-boo!  Red becked oxpeckers? No. Cow egrets. Don't take a hissy fit! Murchison Falls, we climbed down to the bluff on the right. Electrifying (or not) return to the Gulu Primary Teachers College As we arrived home from our Murchison Falls trip we discovered that a  power outage we had before we left turned into a major lights-out event.  We are still without power and expect to be for a few more weeks.  Fortunately the college has a solar powered water pump so we have ample water but no ready means to charge phones or computers.  I think we can safely say we are coming a little bit closer to life in rural areas of Uganda but with many more frills than most of course. Good news, bad news So we come to the good news and the bad news.  First the bad news … there is no power and we will be more in the dark than usual.  The good news is we don’t have to iron hand washed clothes.  But don't go yet as there is more bad news ...  by not ironing clothes and sheets you risk the mango fly.  The mango fly has a nasty habit of laying eggs in laundry hanging out to dry.  The larva can hatch and burrow into your skin when next you wear the garments.  We are told it is not very pleasant … something about a wiggling sensation inside a skin boil.  Enough said. Laundry ... Mango tree Mango tree ... Laundry.  Calculating probabilities of attack! Normally the larvae are killed when you iron the laundry or leave it in the hot, hot sun.  You may well ask how do Ugandans living in power-less village areas around town or in outlying areas manage to escape the mango fly and look so neat, crisp, and clean as they walk or cycle to work, school, or church.  The answer in my mind is a further testament to the women of Africa.  Not only do they mind the children, tend the fields, cook meals, sweep the dirt around the huts or homes, sell produce at the trading centres, carry water from the nearest borehole, and wash the clothes but they also iron the family’s clothes …. with a charcoal heated iron!  Simply pop open the heavy steel iron, scoop in some burning coals from the brazier and bango --> 1 hot iron but not for the faint of heart or weak of limb.  Immediately after hearing about charcoal irons and seeing them in the market, I had a flashback to my early childhood and  my mom’s hot flat iron (before we bought our first Sunbeam steam iron) and frightening “safety” films of the hazards of fire when hot irons were left unattended on the ironing board.  I can also recall the general fear of scorching the Sunday white shirts. We have in actual fact seen one or two people here with strange looking marks or holes on the back of their shirts (shaped like the base of an iron) where conceivably the person ironing the shirt wanted to kill the mango flies dead, dead, and deader but slightly misjudged the heat.   Personally I am with them. I would rather wear holey or scorched underwear than risk facing the hot needle and pointy forceps needed to extract a larva! New Year Greeting We hope everyone had a good New Years!  We certainly did but remember … never smile at a crocodile, you can’t get friendly with a crocodile (or hippo).   In the next little while if you happen to think of us and are in a musical mood please hum or sing an electrifying song such as “this little light of mine, I’m going to make it shine” or if you are in a surly and rebellious mode, think of us and say “power to the people”!  All for now from temporarily darkest Africa. Future topics: Troop planes landing in Gulu - Sudan referendum? Travelling with the boys in yellow		draft		1/6/11	by Blue Canoe	Delete
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POWER PERSPECTIVES

This is REAL AFRICA we are told.  Here in the rural and semi rural setting, that is.

Power goes off frequently and unexpectedly here in northern Uganda.  Hard to use our western technology in a rural subsistence agrarian country....  

Three days off, and it is completely unnoticed by the majority millions who begin their days with a walk to the nearest borehole to fetch a 20+ litre jerry can to be carried on the head back to the village. 

 How heavy is that?!   How does that can get up to the head?

Alone along the side of the dusty road children no more than five years old are seen confidently carrying head loads, of at least 5 litres.  Children are so capable when expected to be.

All around the area hundreds of thatched circular huts create villages accessed by packed earthen pathways winding through tall grass, planted crops of maize, cassava or greens crowding in on either side.  Long flags of banana leaves, tall rows of sugarcane stalks, pawpaw trees and flame trees in their striking scarlet dress.

Isolated villages, distinctly separated by greenery...children, goats and chickens scatter and scamper ahead as the vehicle twists and turns negotiating potholes deep and wide.   Clouds of red dust rise and settle onto the brushy landscape. Smoke rises from charcoal making fires dotted on the horizon, and tall heavy sacks are carried to market on the backs and bicycles of men.  

Small children stare, smile widely and wave at the first white faces they have seen.

Life for us is peering back through a window in time to our long forgotten subsistence agricultural past.  Our ancestors daily lives are before us.  Hand labour, families of six or seven children, little cash but many “trading centres”.  Bicycles abound though most families depend on travel by foot or perhaps doubling or tripling up on bikes or bodas.

Bodas carrying driver, father, mother, two small children and baby,  perhaps even a chicken or two are an everyday sight.  (yes, those chicken are alive, and no, there are no helmets!)

I wondered aloud “how do such spotlessly washed and ironed collared shirts, ties and dresses emerge each morning?”  The answer, of course, they are handwashed and ironed with charcoal heated irons every day.

( what, like those seen in museums? yes.)

A pattern has developed.  Power on at night after dark.  Power off during the day at first light.  

Hmmmm,  we might be learning how to iron either by candlelight, or using a charcoal iron.    We can’t wear wrinkled clothes that is for certain.

 CANADA, eh?

There are daily startling contrasts between this world and the other side of it.....

And even one or two of them Canadian ones.  Though of course, Canada is completely unknown here.  At best, a mzungu  might be thought of as European, or British, but an American is exotic, and Canada?  Where is that?

Questions.  Do you have mangoes in Canada?  
Answer.    No, it is too cold a climate to grow them there.

The conversation continues. 

Do you know bananas?

Answer.    Yes, they are popular in Canada, but we import them.

Do you have pineapples, then?  (or lemons, cassava, sim sim (sesame))

Answer.    Yes, but we can’t grow them because it is too cold in winter.  They are imported to Canada.

And what about ground nuts?  (peanuts)  Do you have them? 

The no, no, continues, to be met with incredulous looks....  You can imagine the thoughts.  What kind of a place can this be where you can’t grow ANYTHING!

And more questions from the same educated and influential person.

Do you have giraffes in america?  No, no we don’t.  How about elephants?? or monkeys??   No, those are only in Africa.  They are unique African animals.

And after a pause,  this question....

Well, are they extinct in america then?

I try to list our impressive wildlife which never ever did include African big game, but to more puzzled looks......

But wait....   Canada must be here somewhere.

In Uganda everything including government school signs carry the logos of international foreign aid ngos.....   Save the Children, MSF, Oxfam, World Vision, USAID, World feeding Program, UNHCR, and UNICEF.  Child Find, Norwegian Refugee Council, Japan Aid, Danish Refugee Council, Care, Red Cross and USAID.  And did I mention USAID?

This is a recovering war affected area of course.  Though no sign of Canada.  

But wait....

There it is.  One small maple leaf flag painted on the corner of one of those rusting metal signs.  Whew,  Canada is here too.

But wait, again....

Another mark of Canada worn by a small boy walking away down the red road. 

 On his back a large number eight, and above the number, the team name..... TIMBITS.

And another, just for Laurie,  someone wearing  “Optimist Club of Brampton”!

That’s it. That’s our experience of Canada in Uganda so far!

But wait once more, you think.  Didn’t they see the Canadian embassy in the capital?

We did make a visit to register our presence there, and the score was  Canadians 2%  (us)  and Ugandans 98%.

However, something rarely spotted in Canada... a large framed colour photo of Stephen Harper himself, and one also of the queen of course.  Also inside a double set of locked doors a Canadian flag too.

RESILIENCE AND ENERGY

Now recovering from many years of war and guerilla raids, a frenetic rebuilding of town using found and manmade materials.  Plastic waste, plastic water bottles, garbage of all kinds accumulates in urban settings with no services such as waste collection or removal.  

At the notion of peace five years ago an influx of population from other areas something of a goldrush begins.  Shops are set up in nooks and crannies, handmade signs and fluctuating populations.  Emergency help from the west to support rebuilding and infrastructure.

Now the large refugee camps are near empty and people are working hard to re-establish their homes and gardens to support their families.

All around us it is Brick Making season.  Wading in red mud, men and boys lift soil and place it into wooden forms, then move those blocks into rows to dry in the hot sun.  After a few days they are stacked inside a hand built brick pyramid oven with large holes in the bottom for access to wood fires.  Some people use the bricks to build their new homes, and others may sell them for cash.  This process takes about ten days to complete.

Ugandans of all levels offer their friendship with wide smiles, an extended hand, and the phrase  “You are MOST welcome.  We are grateful for you”

Walking past on a hot afternoon, we are greeting and being greeted all along the way.  “Good afternoon.”

“How are you?”

“Safe journey.”  

And from one boy addressing Rod.....  “How old are you?”  “Give me one thousand.”

Revealing conversations with the driver every day too. 

 After a time it became known that he is the same age as Sara, therefore Carol is old enough to be his mother. 

 The following day, he asked,  “How can that be?   You must be old. Old ladies here look old.  You don’t look old.”

Not knowing the best way to explain this, I commented on the workload of African women.  I don’t think he understood though.....

The average expected lifetime in Uganda being 52, I should be now be long dead.  How to explain that in the west most people are expected to live far longer?

This morning in conversation with that same driver, after a day of confused and counterproductive activity, with more ahead,

 “I’m going to pray now.”

He meant of course that he is off to Sunday church. However, all prayers are certainly helpful.

These are the people in our neighbourhood.....  

They’re the people that we meet as we’re walking down the street......

They’re the people that we meet each day.

Murchison Falls National Park Astride the Nile

POSTING PICTURES BETWEEN POWER OUTAGES!  HERE COME MORE ....

Acholi Dancing by Nursery School Teacher Graduates

Drying bricks for homes or huts.  Made from native soil.

Coming from the trading centre, an everyday sight.

A bag of charcoal anyone?  Commonly carried on a bike.

Typical North Central village

Main road to Sudan ... the good section.

Sugar cane for the Ugandan sweet tooth.

Solar drier!?!

WHEW!  MADE IT ON BACKUP POWER.  ENJOY!

On the road to Gulu

Mosque on first hill of old Kampala

Street scene - trying to "get out of Dodge" or "pothole city" as named by a local rock station

Roadside market on the Kampala-Gulu road.  Fish anyone?

Bus & travellers' stop - fruits, roasted maize or bananas, & roasted "beef" on a stick

Victoria Nile near Karuma Falls on Gulu Road

Momma baboon on the edge of Murchison Falls National Park

Trying to capture the elusive internet signal in front of our house

These are the people in your neighbourhood, neighbourhood, neighbourhood, neighhhhhhhhbouurrrrrrhood

Seven days in Uganda

Time slips away unobtrusively while your eyes, mind and soul revel in the immersion of culture.  Can it really be only seven days?

Paper and crushed plastic bottles.  Who invented plastic anyway? 

Red soils, dusty walks and smokey air, shining spotless black leather shoes despite that.

Dark eyes and brilliant smiles.

Yes please.    

  

Warm breeze, soaring storks and vultures overhead.

Pink, red, yellow, purple, white, Canadian indoor house plants growing lushly in the open air.  

Hibiscus and trumpet flowers, climbing vines, and more tree species than a western forester can name.

Cellphones, billboards,signs.....

kagillions of cars, matatus, taxis, and boda bodas. 

No Ns and Zs here, just learners with their un-helmeted passengers onboard racing in and out.

Do not venture out in front unless you wish to become a pancake. You’re just not there.

Ugandan food:

bananas. ripe bananas, unripe bananas, mini bananas, plantains..... Lots of these in many forms this week.... steamed matoke in banana leaves too.  Fried sweet bananas.

paw paws, and pineapples, and mangoes, (all rumored, but not tested yet.) I’m looking forward to them all,

Pumpkin (steamed squash), peas, beans, yams and Irish potatoes, crunchy cooked dark green kale-like tasty stuff with onions and shredded carrots mixed in. 

Rice and pink g nut  paste  (that’s peanut sauce) at most meals.

Baked and fried chicken from skinny chickens, they’ve got to be free range.....

Beef and pork, tilapia and Nile perch from Lake Victoria.

Did you know it’s one of the largest lakes in the world? 

Expat food of every kind.  Not to mention expats as well.  Ethiopian, Turkish and Italian food was delightful too.  

Little and large restaurants and bars around every corner around here.

Tusker, Nile Special, Bell and one more forgotten label......

Streetside maize roasting over charcoal, and big full tubs balanced on shoulders.....it’s grasshopper season.  A delicacy they say.  

Today we can count to ten in Acholi, the nilotic language we’ll hear in Gulu.

Also lots of other phrases, verbs and even greetings, which we have practiced repeatedly, tongue pressed to the palate to get the tones  right.  

However, overnight it all disappears from the brain, at least until we have to buy our food at the market rather than order it from a menu.

Electioneering.  Today, a loudspeaker blasting the president’s rap, which is meant to attract the interest of young voters.  Those under 35 are 65% of the population of course.

New recruits heads being shaved, shouting orders, marching all day long in the vacant grassy area across the road.

Last night a visit to a private hospital (no problem, just accompanying a friend), and there it was discovered that Donuts, cookies, ice cream and coffee can be purchased.  

It must be time to leave the city.  Rather, roll away from the city.

Lots of firsts this week.  “Muzungu, how are you?”  

 (white lady...not a slur, just a friendly greeting noting the colour of my skin)

How to load a mosquito net around your bed.  Not much buzzing in the ears though.

from calgary to kampala contrasts

goodbye winter snows

our calgary basement
 backyard 

November in Uganda

our backyard banda at the
guesthouse

favorite garden flower 

view of Lake Victoria

another one

energetic dancers and drummers

road home to the gate just beyond the green sign

jackfruit anyone