more to come
7/5/11
pictorial
35. Unfortunately, that's not how many bottles of international plane wine I drank. That is the number of hours we traveled to get from Kampala to Madison. Matatu, airplane, layovers, walking and bus. I'm pretty delirious at this point. My internal clock put me to sleep around 11pm last night and woke me up around 4am this morning. I just can't sleep! Nonetheless, I'm content, to say the least. Madison continues to show its comforts, making home just as great as traveling. For lack of any sort of motivation, I'm going to stop typing. Instead, photos from the trip. Representative of every emotion I felt and memories most precious to me, I hope you enjoy a more pictorial representation of mine and EDGE's time in Uganda.
more to come
more to come
7/1/11
how was there?
Spontaneous rainstorm post (3:25am on Wednesday the 29th):
Woke up to an absolutely torrential rainstorm. The thunder is completely in sync with the lightening, so right over us. The aluminum roof makes the entire place sound like it's coming down and there is very little chance of falling back asleep. The thunder is making my bed shake and my heart jump (the latter of the two more concerning). For a relatively water proof place water it seems to find it's way in because the roof can't sweep it away fast enough. I got up to close the windows but one flew open, which resulted in the swinging open of our door to the outside. It was a double whammy at best, Paul quickly mobilizing to shut the window while my wide-eyed self scrambled to keep our shoes dry by the door, which had opened as if Poseidon himself were on the guest list. It's as if the rain hasn't come before and won't come again. I cannot imagine the homes in the camps are staying dry in the windy rain, which is very unsettling to me considering I know many of the people in them now. Lightening literally struck outside our window. A cannon fired from the Black Pearl. Possibly an early 4th of July firework that happened to find Lingira and consequently, my face. Or the oldest redwood from the oldest forest cracking next to my ear. I think my bed sheets just jumped. I'm interested to see what this coming-of-christ of a rainstorm does to the island in the morning. The worst of it all: I have to pee, the latrine is a good football field away, and for some reason I can't keep my mind off of flowing water.
Namusis
The other day we got back to the island to find out that a student had passed away in the morning. Namusis was a girl in S4, which is close to 9th or 10th grade I think. The entire island seemed to be in a sort of shock mourning state. Many of the kids were just sitting in groups around the grounds when Paul and I got back from the boat. It wasn't too difficult to tell that something had happened. School was cancelled the next day and many people traveled to her burial in her home town. Paul and I would have liked to go if only it weren't our third to last day on the island with much to get done. Lovi, another girl in the S4 class, asked me if I could bring down the guitar and teach her a little bit (thanks to Elise Mann and a well crafted note that she had me deliver without my knowing of its content). I quickly saw the chance as a means of keeping her and others' minds off of the day's unfortunate event. I played a few songs after teaching for the girls who managed their way to our part of the ground and teacher Zaduk.
Paul and I attended a memorial service the next day at the school during their lunch break. The first twenty or thirty minutes were pleasant and well intended, as a celebration of a life should be. The next hour basically entailed dozens of bible scriptures along with many of the teachers explaining that she is gone and people should begin worrying about school again, not letting it affect their studies. Alright, I'm not going to say much for the sake of not using a sad event for a rant and out of respect to Namusis, but there was almost a total lack of spirituality when teachers' speeches read from the bible and explained its meaning that had absolutely nothing to do with the life of Namisus. A sad day for all of course, though. Paul and I celebrated her life at the top of the island over sunset.
Growing hope… and food
The teacher Zadoc, who helped us with much of the fence, was officially given the title "Director of Facilities Management and Security" for the fence area. His commitment to our work really showed that many of the teachers are excited about the project and see the benefits of the garden. Headmaster says the school is on board for budgeting for the garden. It's tough to fully believe him (unfortunately), since he never really commits to anything verbally. The good thing is that the school has tried growing crops before but they have always failed because of livestock. They have the initiative somewhere, now we just have to focus it within the fence and keep it sustained. With Zadoc, we formed concrete ramps under the gates to close the gap between them and the ground. Without a second thought I knew it was my chance to leave an everlasting mark in concrete. I quickly engraved "EDGE 2011" in the entrance to the garden. On the other gate Paul and I wrote our initials. The morning after Rainstorm 2011, we went down to the garden to check on the slabs and see if they survived the night without being completely settled. Not only did they manage to keep safe, someone had engraved "Sam and Paul - God Bless You" into one of the bases. We were and still are touched to see that someone cares for our work at the school. It's a good way to finish off our month of work with the children, knowing that their new fence and garden area will go appreciated by the students and teachers using it. A sign that EDGE is sticking. Growing. A pun.
School photo near the garden entrance
Lunch
Oryagi gave a nice talk, to Paul and I, about nutrition. Basically he described our need to eat diversely to keep our bodies healthy. I suppose it was good to hear someone from the island directly describe our reasoning for making the fence for the school. He talked about the chili sauce specifically. To regress from details, most of which included comparisons to the bible, I learned two things about chili sauce. First, it works as a good way of clearing your system of flu and cold symptoms. Second, and I think more importantly, it aids in successfully erecting the male penis. Every time. I quickly asked what if one eats too much chili sauce to get a response resembling the over indulgence of chili sauce is bad for bodily functions.
Ensi nga nungi
7/1/11
The last couple days on Lingira were absolutely wonderful. With the fence physically and organizationally complete, much of our time has just been spent genuinely talking to people. Content, our mood has been. Relaxing, our time has been. Frisbee, sun, eating, talking, laughing, wondering, singing, being. Stress and anxiety have filled much of our trip, with us just focusing on finishing our projects. It has been great to finish on a light note. The island can be two different places depending on your mood and focus. A place of work and a place of life and enjoyment. It began as a place of work and now finishes as a place of reality and beauty. There's too much to say about my last two days to fit in the blog. Enjoying and living the life of Lingira basically sums it up. We're off Lingira now, back in Jinja. Paul and I, though it feels somewhat selfish, plan on white water rafting a little river called the Nile tomorrow morning. Getting soaked and tossed like a rag-doll, weirdly enough, sounds entirely pleasurable right now. I've said it before and I will undoubtedly say it again, let's get rowdy.
I'm genuinely happy about our time spent on and off projects and will greatly miss the smiles and hospitality of everyone who has worked with us. This trip has made me feel alive in so many ways. The pain (physical and mental); the laughter; the anger; the warm feeling of success; the torment of failure; the reality of discomfort and the delight of making someone smile have all forged a feeling unlike any I've ever experienced. I feel clean, but can count the number of showers I've had on one hand. I have cuts and bruises, but they remind me of our incredible endurance and strength. Life is good. And I am leaving Uganda happy, a goal that I didn't see entirely possible considering our reason being here. It's entirely because of the people. The world is good. Ensi nga nungi.
Shoreline fishing in Lake Victoria
Keep it loose, keep it tight.
Keep it real, keep it right.
Yup.
I guess I'm coming home on the 4th of July.
Peace.
Woke up to an absolutely torrential rainstorm. The thunder is completely in sync with the lightening, so right over us. The aluminum roof makes the entire place sound like it's coming down and there is very little chance of falling back asleep. The thunder is making my bed shake and my heart jump (the latter of the two more concerning). For a relatively water proof place water it seems to find it's way in because the roof can't sweep it away fast enough. I got up to close the windows but one flew open, which resulted in the swinging open of our door to the outside. It was a double whammy at best, Paul quickly mobilizing to shut the window while my wide-eyed self scrambled to keep our shoes dry by the door, which had opened as if Poseidon himself were on the guest list. It's as if the rain hasn't come before and won't come again. I cannot imagine the homes in the camps are staying dry in the windy rain, which is very unsettling to me considering I know many of the people in them now. Lightening literally struck outside our window. A cannon fired from the Black Pearl. Possibly an early 4th of July firework that happened to find Lingira and consequently, my face. Or the oldest redwood from the oldest forest cracking next to my ear. I think my bed sheets just jumped. I'm interested to see what this coming-of-christ of a rainstorm does to the island in the morning. The worst of it all: I have to pee, the latrine is a good football field away, and for some reason I can't keep my mind off of flowing water.
Namusis
The other day we got back to the island to find out that a student had passed away in the morning. Namusis was a girl in S4, which is close to 9th or 10th grade I think. The entire island seemed to be in a sort of shock mourning state. Many of the kids were just sitting in groups around the grounds when Paul and I got back from the boat. It wasn't too difficult to tell that something had happened. School was cancelled the next day and many people traveled to her burial in her home town. Paul and I would have liked to go if only it weren't our third to last day on the island with much to get done. Lovi, another girl in the S4 class, asked me if I could bring down the guitar and teach her a little bit (thanks to Elise Mann and a well crafted note that she had me deliver without my knowing of its content). I quickly saw the chance as a means of keeping her and others' minds off of the day's unfortunate event. I played a few songs after teaching for the girls who managed their way to our part of the ground and teacher Zaduk.
Paul and I attended a memorial service the next day at the school during their lunch break. The first twenty or thirty minutes were pleasant and well intended, as a celebration of a life should be. The next hour basically entailed dozens of bible scriptures along with many of the teachers explaining that she is gone and people should begin worrying about school again, not letting it affect their studies. Alright, I'm not going to say much for the sake of not using a sad event for a rant and out of respect to Namusis, but there was almost a total lack of spirituality when teachers' speeches read from the bible and explained its meaning that had absolutely nothing to do with the life of Namisus. A sad day for all of course, though. Paul and I celebrated her life at the top of the island over sunset.
Growing hope… and food
The teacher Zadoc, who helped us with much of the fence, was officially given the title "Director of Facilities Management and Security" for the fence area. His commitment to our work really showed that many of the teachers are excited about the project and see the benefits of the garden. Headmaster says the school is on board for budgeting for the garden. It's tough to fully believe him (unfortunately), since he never really commits to anything verbally. The good thing is that the school has tried growing crops before but they have always failed because of livestock. They have the initiative somewhere, now we just have to focus it within the fence and keep it sustained. With Zadoc, we formed concrete ramps under the gates to close the gap between them and the ground. Without a second thought I knew it was my chance to leave an everlasting mark in concrete. I quickly engraved "EDGE 2011" in the entrance to the garden. On the other gate Paul and I wrote our initials. The morning after Rainstorm 2011, we went down to the garden to check on the slabs and see if they survived the night without being completely settled. Not only did they manage to keep safe, someone had engraved "Sam and Paul - God Bless You" into one of the bases. We were and still are touched to see that someone cares for our work at the school. It's a good way to finish off our month of work with the children, knowing that their new fence and garden area will go appreciated by the students and teachers using it. A sign that EDGE is sticking. Growing. A pun.
School photo near the garden entranceLunch
Oryagi gave a nice talk, to Paul and I, about nutrition. Basically he described our need to eat diversely to keep our bodies healthy. I suppose it was good to hear someone from the island directly describe our reasoning for making the fence for the school. He talked about the chili sauce specifically. To regress from details, most of which included comparisons to the bible, I learned two things about chili sauce. First, it works as a good way of clearing your system of flu and cold symptoms. Second, and I think more importantly, it aids in successfully erecting the male penis. Every time. I quickly asked what if one eats too much chili sauce to get a response resembling the over indulgence of chili sauce is bad for bodily functions.
Ensi nga nungi
7/1/11
The last couple days on Lingira were absolutely wonderful. With the fence physically and organizationally complete, much of our time has just been spent genuinely talking to people. Content, our mood has been. Relaxing, our time has been. Frisbee, sun, eating, talking, laughing, wondering, singing, being. Stress and anxiety have filled much of our trip, with us just focusing on finishing our projects. It has been great to finish on a light note. The island can be two different places depending on your mood and focus. A place of work and a place of life and enjoyment. It began as a place of work and now finishes as a place of reality and beauty. There's too much to say about my last two days to fit in the blog. Enjoying and living the life of Lingira basically sums it up. We're off Lingira now, back in Jinja. Paul and I, though it feels somewhat selfish, plan on white water rafting a little river called the Nile tomorrow morning. Getting soaked and tossed like a rag-doll, weirdly enough, sounds entirely pleasurable right now. I've said it before and I will undoubtedly say it again, let's get rowdy.
I'm genuinely happy about our time spent on and off projects and will greatly miss the smiles and hospitality of everyone who has worked with us. This trip has made me feel alive in so many ways. The pain (physical and mental); the laughter; the anger; the warm feeling of success; the torment of failure; the reality of discomfort and the delight of making someone smile have all forged a feeling unlike any I've ever experienced. I feel clean, but can count the number of showers I've had on one hand. I have cuts and bruises, but they remind me of our incredible endurance and strength. Life is good. And I am leaving Uganda happy, a goal that I didn't see entirely possible considering our reason being here. It's entirely because of the people. The world is good. Ensi nga nungi.
Shoreline fishing in Lake VictoriaKeep it loose, keep it tight.
Keep it real, keep it right.
Yup.
I guess I'm coming home on the 4th of July.
Peace.
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