4th of July… WOW, what a night!! Invisible Children threw a party for the 4th of July at the Acholi Inn. It was outside near the pool on the lawn, and it was such a beautiful night. The party started at 6:30, but about 6 of us headed to Da Pub for a pre-party drink. From there we took boda bodas to the Acholi Inn. The music started at 6:45 pm, and the dancing started at 6:50 pm. At some point, the food was ready so most people took a break from dancing to eat. They had something close to a hamburger, and it was absolute heaven. They also had “coleslaw”, fried zucchini, some type of burrito, and baked goods from Café Larem. Amy said that she ordered 300 beers, and we estimated that there were about 100 people there. The Acoli people are not drinkers at all, so there was plenty of beer to go around…we drank 12 crates of beer by 8:30.
Once everyone finished eating dinner, the dancing started again and did not stop. They played a mixture of American and Acoli music, heavy on the Michael Jackson. I think the DJ played “Billie Jean” 4 times, but we sure did enjoy it every time it played. My teacher Grace stayed there the entire night, and she tried to teach us the Rockarocka (not how it is spelled), a native Acoli dance where your hips move forward and back mostly. I feel like I got better as the night wore on, but I am not sure that an impartial observer would agree. About 9:00, the music stopped to allow a man dressed in a traditional marbled green tunic (think pajamas) to give a speech, which is something that Ugandans love to do. I asked who this man was as the entire group immediately got quiet to allow him to talk, and Lindsey said that it was Museveni, the president of Uganda. He was not, and we are not really sure who he is, but he did claim to have been the president of Uganda for 3 days. I will do some research on this mysterious man…. Research is complete; evidently he is the deputy of Gulu of their police force. We also met the owner of the Acoli Inn. The police deputy was very funny spending time with him. He wanted to do a toast but none of us had any drinks, so he ordered out, “Bring drinks to my friends. Who needs beers?” So we all got beer and toasted; I am not sure what the toast was about, but it did not matter. We were all among friends. We closed the Acoli Inn down and then looked for an after party.
We decided to head to Bamboo, so we started walking down pitch black roads with huge muddy potholes. About halfway there, Obie stopped in his car and told us to get in that he would take us. So Sharon and I got in the back seat with several other munos whom we did not know. We then found out that we were not going to Bamboo but were instead going to a party at “Creepy Guy’s” compound. We did not want to do that so we got out of the car. Then Catherine and several others got back in the car because they found out that Bamboo was closed. So we all piled into Obie’s car; there were 5 in the way back, 4 in the back seat and then Obie and another passenger. Creepy Guy’s compound ended being the US Navy Headquarters, so Creepy Guy was not so creepy any more, and his name is David. We hung out there; it was a very chill atmosphere as people were hanging out in the yard or in the house. They had a fire pit going, which is still weird for me as in South Carolina, you would never light a fire in July because of the heat.
We stayed there until about 3:00 am, and then Catherine, Bill, Kate, Sharon, Ryan, and I decided to head back to Katherina’s. Apolo agreed to drive us, and on our way, someone asked, “Anyone up for Havana’s?” Havanas is a local nightspot that has dancing. We decided to drive by to see if it was still open, and of course it was, so we stopped and went in. We were the only munos in the place, and with black lights every where, we really stuck out. However everyone there seemed to be into their own thing, so we got water and began dancing. Again. At this point, I think that I had danced about 7 hours. About 30 minutes later, Apolo got a text from Obie wondering where he was, and we all remembered that Apolo was supposed to drop us off and then go pick up the rest of the crew. Kate and Apolo left to go get them to bring them back. They took forever, and Ryan got tired of Havanas, so he left about 20 minutes later. Catherine, Bill, Sharon and I finally called it quits about 4:00 am, so we walked home. The streets were deserted, and it was so peaceful. I crashed into my bed about 4:15 am. This was one of my favorite July 4ths ever!!!!
BTW: Apolo brought the cake that he promised. It was decorated as an American flag and had so much icing on it!! It took forever for someone to find a knife, so I did what Dad always does and started scooping the icing onto my finger from the back of the cake. It was delicious and just the sweet that I needed.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Oh Oh, we're HALF WAY there, Oh Oh, Livin' on a Prayer
I am at the halfway point. I just can’t believe how quickly the time has gone by. I feel that this is both good and bad; good because I am looking forward to friends, family and toilet seats, and bad because I am truly having an amazing time.
We have been participating in the Invisible Children Teaching Conference. Yesterday the focus was on teacher empowerment. We discussed ways that the teachers can have control. I feel that the educational system in Uganda is not conducive to teaching and learning. Teachers are some of the lowest paid government employees in the nation and often they do not even make enough money to make ends meet. Some of them have to travel very long distances to get to and from work everyday; others are able to live in staff housing, but often it is substandard. They have a teacher union, but evidently it is not supportive of teachers. I think this has to do with the power of the current administration of Uganda. They have no control over the curriculum they teach and are judged only by test scores. Attendance of students is not compulsory, so students can come and go as they please. Spending time with these teachers demonstrate how fortunate teachers are in America. Yes, we do have our problems, but we can make a living and are taken care of. It has been so frustrating trying to teach without the access to supplies and technology that we take for granted in the US.
The second day was about student empowerment. This is a novel concept. One of the tragedies of this curriculum and this system of teaching is there is NO critical thinking. These kids are taught the information and then expected to regurgitate it. They are never asked why or how. It really is sad because there are many adults around this society who cannot think critically. I think it hurts them now that the area is in peace because they cannot think forward. Hopefully by encouraging these teachers to try new activities that focus on creativity and thinking, the students will begin to learn the critical thinking process.
After the conference, Sharon, Kate and I went to the market to shop. There is no such thing as instant gratification in retail therapy, but the process if pretty fun. You walk through the market, find the fabric that you like, and then take it to a seamstress and describe what piece of clothing you would like. So far I have bought a skirt, a blouse, and two button down shirts. Today I ordered a pair of baggy pants and a skirt. I am always a little nervous about what the final product will look like due to the language barrier, but it is so inexpensive that it ends up okay. The fabrics here are so awesome. Shopping here is a test of determination and patience.
We have been participating in the Invisible Children Teaching Conference. Yesterday the focus was on teacher empowerment. We discussed ways that the teachers can have control. I feel that the educational system in Uganda is not conducive to teaching and learning. Teachers are some of the lowest paid government employees in the nation and often they do not even make enough money to make ends meet. Some of them have to travel very long distances to get to and from work everyday; others are able to live in staff housing, but often it is substandard. They have a teacher union, but evidently it is not supportive of teachers. I think this has to do with the power of the current administration of Uganda. They have no control over the curriculum they teach and are judged only by test scores. Attendance of students is not compulsory, so students can come and go as they please. Spending time with these teachers demonstrate how fortunate teachers are in America. Yes, we do have our problems, but we can make a living and are taken care of. It has been so frustrating trying to teach without the access to supplies and technology that we take for granted in the US.
The second day was about student empowerment. This is a novel concept. One of the tragedies of this curriculum and this system of teaching is there is NO critical thinking. These kids are taught the information and then expected to regurgitate it. They are never asked why or how. It really is sad because there are many adults around this society who cannot think critically. I think it hurts them now that the area is in peace because they cannot think forward. Hopefully by encouraging these teachers to try new activities that focus on creativity and thinking, the students will begin to learn the critical thinking process.
After the conference, Sharon, Kate and I went to the market to shop. There is no such thing as instant gratification in retail therapy, but the process if pretty fun. You walk through the market, find the fabric that you like, and then take it to a seamstress and describe what piece of clothing you would like. So far I have bought a skirt, a blouse, and two button down shirts. Today I ordered a pair of baggy pants and a skirt. I am always a little nervous about what the final product will look like due to the language barrier, but it is so inexpensive that it ends up okay. The fabrics here are so awesome. Shopping here is a test of determination and patience.
White Ants that Fly
On Thursday, July 2, we celebrated Amy Cordileone’s birthday. She is the director of our Teacher Exchange and just an awesome person. We went to KSP first for a little while and then headed to Bamboo for trivia. It was one of those random nights that was so much fun. John Magee made a dance party mix for Amy’s birthday, but it would not play in the KSP cd player, so he brought it to Bamboo. It was one of the most random mixes of music ever, but it was hysterical. We danced and laughed and danced some more. Apolo and Obie were there as well. One of the “delicacies” here in Uganda is white ants. They are these huge ants with long white wings, and they fly all over the place. The Acoli catch them, take off the wings, and eat the bodies. Obie and I were discussing this, and he mentioned that I should try one. I said that I would if he would, and he said that he was allergic to them. After discussing this for about 10 minutes, we agreed that he would eat the wings and I would eat the body. We caught one and got ready to do it, and then Obie chickened out (thank goodness!!).
Apolo and I then discussed that he was bringing a cake for our 4th of July party on Saturday. I asked that the cake have twice as much icing on it as cake, which started an entirely new random conversation. Hopefully the icing will be awesome because they do not really have sweets here, and I have been craving something SWEET.
Apolo and I then discussed that he was bringing a cake for our 4th of July party on Saturday. I asked that the cake have twice as much icing on it as cake, which started an entirely new random conversation. Hopefully the icing will be awesome because they do not really have sweets here, and I have been craving something SWEET.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Pictures
I am sorry that I have not uploaded any pictures. The internet here is pretty slow, so it takes entirely too long to upload them, and since I have to pay for internet, well, I am not going to spend time on that. Please know that I am taking a ton of pictures and will have them to show upon my return. Thanks for understanding.
Boma and the Walk Home- Tuesday, June 30
Group 2 is tired of Acholi food. Let me just tell you that it gets old. The food is VERY different from American food, and most of us just reach a point at which we can eat no more. We decided to go to Boma, which is a restaurant in Gulu that serves Americanized food. It was delicious. There were 11 of us there, and 9 of us ordered the steak with French fries. However, they only had enough steaks for 8, so I volunteered to order something else. I ended up getting the spaghetti neopolitan, which is basically spaghetti with 6 pieces of vegetables and a little red sauce.
As usual, the food took a long time to come out, but as we were waiting, we noticed a LARGE group of high school munos come in. They were excited to see other munos and quickly surrounded our table peppering us with questions. They were a group from all over the US performing mission work in Kampala and Gulu. Our food finally came, and it was very good and a nice break from Acholi food from Katherina’s. We had a wonderful time as conversation with Group 2 is always amazing.
As we were walking back looking for boda bodas, we walked down a street headed towards town. Matt said he knew the way, so trusting that he had been here before, we followed him… right into a dead end. Keep in mind that it is pitch black dark as the power is out again. Fortunately I have started carrying my head lamp with me every where I go, so I was able to see where I was walking. We backtracked a little, and Wendy, another veteran, told us to follow her. She led us right into… the town dump. As we walked through mounds of trash, bad food, and God only knows what else, we cracked up completely because we realized that we were the stupid munos who were lost. We finally cleared the dump only to walk into… what can only be described as the Gulu ghetto. I don’t know who was more surprised: us or the neighborhood we were traipsing through. We finally recognized the back side of Café Larem, our Internet hangout, so at that point, we were able to make it home safely. I think that had I not been with the others, I would have freaked out completely. I told everyone we needed to act like zebras and stay close together so no one would be able to separate us and cull the herd. Looking back, I honestly don’t think that we were in any danger, but a dark night in northern Uganda, a war torn 3rd world country, and you get the picture.
As usual, the food took a long time to come out, but as we were waiting, we noticed a LARGE group of high school munos come in. They were excited to see other munos and quickly surrounded our table peppering us with questions. They were a group from all over the US performing mission work in Kampala and Gulu. Our food finally came, and it was very good and a nice break from Acholi food from Katherina’s. We had a wonderful time as conversation with Group 2 is always amazing.
As we were walking back looking for boda bodas, we walked down a street headed towards town. Matt said he knew the way, so trusting that he had been here before, we followed him… right into a dead end. Keep in mind that it is pitch black dark as the power is out again. Fortunately I have started carrying my head lamp with me every where I go, so I was able to see where I was walking. We backtracked a little, and Wendy, another veteran, told us to follow her. She led us right into… the town dump. As we walked through mounds of trash, bad food, and God only knows what else, we cracked up completely because we realized that we were the stupid munos who were lost. We finally cleared the dump only to walk into… what can only be described as the Gulu ghetto. I don’t know who was more surprised: us or the neighborhood we were traipsing through. We finally recognized the back side of Café Larem, our Internet hangout, so at that point, we were able to make it home safely. I think that had I not been with the others, I would have freaked out completely. I told everyone we needed to act like zebras and stay close together so no one would be able to separate us and cull the herd. Looking back, I honestly don’t think that we were in any danger, but a dark night in northern Uganda, a war torn 3rd world country, and you get the picture.
Grace's Story
I asked Grace about her experience with the war today. She had many stories to share, and I was so grateful to hear some of them. I will share a couple of them here as I feel that it makes the impact of this horrible conflict much more real.
She was a student at Sacred Heart, which is a boarding school in Gulu. She said that on several occasions, the LRA would send letters to the school saying that they were coming on a certain day. One day as the students were returning from their dinner, the teachers told them to go back to their dorms and get their blanket only. They were not to take anything but their blanket with them. The teachers then ushered the students to the convent close to the school. They were then locked inside. However since the convent is multiple stories, they could look out the window and see the destruction that the LRA caused. They witnessed them burning huts and killing people. Grace said that this happened several times while she was at Sacred Heart.
As an adult, Grace lived with her family in a village outside of Gulu. This is very common in the Acholi culture. She was teaching at Gulu SS at the time. One night, they saw that the hut where her two aunts lived was on fire. The LRA had set the hut on fire and locked the door from the outside. Her two aunts and 3 small children (her cousins) burned to death in this fire. Two other children were able to escape. The LRA set fire to 5 other huts around Grace’s families’ hut. She said that her family survived by the grace of God only. When the LRA turned their backs, Grace’s family ran out of their hut and hid in the bush for the rest of the night.
The next morning, her father told her, “I am old and have lived my life. You are young so you must go to the city and be safe.” Grace left that day to go to Gulu. For a while she slept in the bus park on the ground. A little while later, she found a room to rent, and so she and her family would come and sleep in this room at night. When they woke up, Grace would go to Gulu SS to teach. She would then walk to her home in the village for dinner because that is where their food was, and then the family would commute back to the room in Gulu. Grace and her family did this for 5 years. She said that they would take turns sleeping so someone was always listening out. If they heard gunfire, they knew they were okay because they could tell where the action was. However it was when there was silence that they became very nervous as that meant that they did not know where the LRA was. She said that dogs barking was another sign that the LRA was near. Gunfire was an every day occurrence.
I simply cannot imagine the fear that would be a part of this life. To me, it shows an incredible amount of strength that the Acholi have in the fact that they have been witness to true atrocities, and yet they have recovered and maintained their hope and kindness for others. We as Americans cannot understand this. For us 9/11 was life changing, but it was a one time event. Dealing with the LRA has been a 20+ year nightmare for these people. At some point, you would think that this would affect them mentally and emotionally, and I am sure it has. I think it helps them to tell their stories and for others to be witnesses to this horror. For Grace, all I had to do was ask.
She was a student at Sacred Heart, which is a boarding school in Gulu. She said that on several occasions, the LRA would send letters to the school saying that they were coming on a certain day. One day as the students were returning from their dinner, the teachers told them to go back to their dorms and get their blanket only. They were not to take anything but their blanket with them. The teachers then ushered the students to the convent close to the school. They were then locked inside. However since the convent is multiple stories, they could look out the window and see the destruction that the LRA caused. They witnessed them burning huts and killing people. Grace said that this happened several times while she was at Sacred Heart.
As an adult, Grace lived with her family in a village outside of Gulu. This is very common in the Acholi culture. She was teaching at Gulu SS at the time. One night, they saw that the hut where her two aunts lived was on fire. The LRA had set the hut on fire and locked the door from the outside. Her two aunts and 3 small children (her cousins) burned to death in this fire. Two other children were able to escape. The LRA set fire to 5 other huts around Grace’s families’ hut. She said that her family survived by the grace of God only. When the LRA turned their backs, Grace’s family ran out of their hut and hid in the bush for the rest of the night.
The next morning, her father told her, “I am old and have lived my life. You are young so you must go to the city and be safe.” Grace left that day to go to Gulu. For a while she slept in the bus park on the ground. A little while later, she found a room to rent, and so she and her family would come and sleep in this room at night. When they woke up, Grace would go to Gulu SS to teach. She would then walk to her home in the village for dinner because that is where their food was, and then the family would commute back to the room in Gulu. Grace and her family did this for 5 years. She said that they would take turns sleeping so someone was always listening out. If they heard gunfire, they knew they were okay because they could tell where the action was. However it was when there was silence that they became very nervous as that meant that they did not know where the LRA was. She said that dogs barking was another sign that the LRA was near. Gunfire was an every day occurrence.
I simply cannot imagine the fear that would be a part of this life. To me, it shows an incredible amount of strength that the Acholi have in the fact that they have been witness to true atrocities, and yet they have recovered and maintained their hope and kindness for others. We as Americans cannot understand this. For us 9/11 was life changing, but it was a one time event. Dealing with the LRA has been a 20+ year nightmare for these people. At some point, you would think that this would affect them mentally and emotionally, and I am sure it has. I think it helps them to tell their stories and for others to be witnesses to this horror. For Grace, all I had to do was ask.
Midterms- Monday, June 29, 2009
We gave the S3 exam today after lunch. It consists of giving S3 East, S3 Middle, and S3 West at the same time. Each class is in a different room but they are all adjacent rooms. This exam was 9 pages long, and it consisted of reading comprehension, grammar, short answer and essay. Okello P’layeng took the pages of the exam into the classroom. The students then exited the class, lined up outside, and then as they entered, they grabbed each page of the exam and walked to their desks. We did this in each of the three classrooms. Some of the pages had not been photocopied correctly, so we had to redo them. At Ridge View, this would have been very easy. However we are in Uganda.
In order to photocopy a midterm, the teacher first turns in a handwritten version of it to two “secretaries.” They then type the midterm on an old typewriter. Once the midterm is typed, it is then photocopied by a hand-cranked mimeograph machine… yes, that’s right, a mimeograph machine. So to go back and re-copy a page of the midterm, we had to wait for the woman to get back to the “copy room”. Once she returned, she had to find the master page among many other master pages, feed it onto the mimeograph machine and then crank it out.
Once all of the students got all of the pages of the midterm, Okello P’layeng then went to look for a stapler; he then returned and we went around the room stapling the exam together. We then stood outside the classrooms walking into each one every so often. I guess they really trust that the students do not cheat. Whenever I looked in, they were absolutely silent and seemed to be really focused on their own exam. Each exam is allotted 2 hours.
It was a very interesting process. As Okello P’Layeng and I stood outside waiting, we talked about different things. One of his older brothers was a member of the Ugandan army and disappeared on a hunting exhibition. One of his younger brothers was abducted by the LRA when he was an S1 student. The last time Okello P’Layeng heard from him was in 1988. I think there are stories like this all over northern Uganda.
In order to photocopy a midterm, the teacher first turns in a handwritten version of it to two “secretaries.” They then type the midterm on an old typewriter. Once the midterm is typed, it is then photocopied by a hand-cranked mimeograph machine… yes, that’s right, a mimeograph machine. So to go back and re-copy a page of the midterm, we had to wait for the woman to get back to the “copy room”. Once she returned, she had to find the master page among many other master pages, feed it onto the mimeograph machine and then crank it out.
Once all of the students got all of the pages of the midterm, Okello P’layeng then went to look for a stapler; he then returned and we went around the room stapling the exam together. We then stood outside the classrooms walking into each one every so often. I guess they really trust that the students do not cheat. Whenever I looked in, they were absolutely silent and seemed to be really focused on their own exam. Each exam is allotted 2 hours.
It was a very interesting process. As Okello P’Layeng and I stood outside waiting, we talked about different things. One of his older brothers was a member of the Ugandan army and disappeared on a hunting exhibition. One of his younger brothers was abducted by the LRA when he was an S1 student. The last time Okello P’Layeng heard from him was in 1988. I think there are stories like this all over northern Uganda.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
