Camping Wanale

Never had I ever… camped on top of a mountain. 

That changed yesterday, when some Volunteers conducted a little shindig called Wellness Weekend. 

It started on Saturday morning with some yoga… but Kara and I slept through that, whoops. We did manage to join the group at a local coffeehouse called Casa, where we were all meeting up before the hike. 

Now, Kara and I have hiked Wanale before, way back in early February, when we had first gotten to site. We barely made it up the mountain that time, and as our jobs require a lot of standing but not an exorbitant amount of physical activity, I didn’t think we were really any more in-shape than the last time we’d hiked. 

A picture I took when we hiked Mount Wanale in February (during the dry season)

Exact same angle, a picture from this hike in May (wet season)

This time, we knew we’d be camping at the top of the mountain with the rest of our group… but as we had to carry whatever we’d need, we didn’t bring many blankets. 

Our friend Miles, who is a yoga instructor and about 100 times more in-shape than I ever hope to be, was super sweet and carried our rented tent up the mountain for us, so we at least had some guaranteed shelter!

We surprised ourselves and made it up the mountain with a lot more ease (and fewer muscle aches!) than the previous time! Unfortunately, we froze our butts off that night. We’d neglected to even bring socks. Let me tell you, even on the equator, even when it’s a small mountain, the top of a mountain at night is COLD. 

However, it was a beautiful trip and definitely worth becoming a popsicle. We thawed out during the breakfast fire, and had a great hike down the mountain—although we were still wrapped in our blankets for most of it. 

Miles, on the ground. Because apparently, as great as he is at hiking, he is not equally great at getting his jeans on without first taking his shoes off. 

We cooked dinner by placing cans of beans and tomatoes close to the fire, and then mixing them together to make "chili." Sounds weird, but after a day of hiking, it was delicious!

Sunset with Leo, Karaboo, and Mike

What I get when I say "Hey guys, look cute!" haha

Wayne made it into The Pineapple Club at the top of Wanale! (membership is obtained when one eats an entire pineapple in one sitting. The pineapple must be roughly the size of the eater's head)

In-Service Training, Already?!

First, some Peace Corps jargon: In-Service Training (IST) is a meeting that PCVs in every country have roughly 3 months after Pre-Service Training (PST) ends. 

I had been looking forward to IST, because once PST ended we were spread out across the country and I hadn’t seen most of my cohort in months! 

The other fun aspect of IST is that each of us got to bring along a teacher from our school to attend the whole week of workshops with us. We were encouraged to bring our counterpart, which is the teacher that the school assigned to be our main resource at the school, answering all of the random questions that an American thrown into the Ugandan school system is bound to have. Mine, of course, is Rosemary (who I’ve posted about on this blog before). She was delighted to attend with me, especially since the town where we were having the training was across the country—about 9 hours of travel from the Eastern village where we live—and she’d never been there before! She's incredibly dedicated to her pupils as humans, not just as learners or students at school, and I'm learning so much from her. 

Rosemary and I, together in Masaka!

We stayed at a hotel in Masaka and our trainings covered a variety of topics—everything from a session on establishing libraries to two days of sessions on utilizing consequences for misbehavior to use at school that don’t involve corporal punishment. 

The best part of IST was—as I knew it would be—seeing my friends! I am happy to be able to say that I genuinely like everyone in my cohort. Once I had been accepted to Peace Corps, I read absolutely everything I could get my hands on about it. I did my best not to establish any expectations for my own service, and reading as many perspectives as possible helped with this, as each person’s service is so vastly different. But one thing that cropped up relatively consistently was that PST is full of drama. My own cohort had our fair share of interesting (at times, drama-filled) experiences… but to this day, we aren’t what I would describe as cliquey. Everyone has their own natural friend groups, but I really feel like I can sit down next to any member of our cohort and have a genuine, deep conversation. 

During IST, I got book recommendations from Emily, shared clothes with Kristen, and watched She’s The Man (again, haha) with Chantelle. I posed for pictures with Isabelle, took naps with Apey and Kara, borrowed Katherine’s leesu (Ugandan scarf), and was grateful to Ren when she fixed my broken locket. Sheila shared her Sour Patch Kids with everyone, Kenneth showed us pictures of his grandbabies, and I listened to Kevin tell stories about the multitude of countries he’s lived in. Allie led us to a vegetarian restaurant in Masaka, where I discovered that Hannah and I are both nervous about turning 23 soon, and that Randy is observant enough to discern emotions from a brief facial expression. 

To sum it all up, I’m surrounded by a beautiful assortment of the most interesting humans I’ve ever met. 

Book Box Update!

These kids love textbooks. Surprised? I know I was! When I was little, textbooks were just something heavy I had to carry around. But here, they're the most popular things on the shelf. 

Last week, one 6th grade boy spent an hour reading about volcanoes, and as he left the classroom I heard him explaining magma to his friends in expressive detail. Everyday I see kids exclaim over a new fact or picture and immediately hold up the book to share their findings with a friend across the table!

My school has no computers, no internet access. These students love to learn, and I get to watch their eyes brighten as they flip through the few beautiful Science Explorer and Eyewitness books that we have. They want to learn more about the world... but we need more books.

Friends, family, absolutely anyone reading this: here is a link to the Amazon wish list I've created for our school. Please, if you decide to help my students in their quest for knowledge, please only buy the used versions of these books! Shipping things here is expensive enough, used books are more than fine.

http://www.amazon.com/registry/wishlist/2SJO04EELYP4P

Thank you for reading this, and please don't hesitate to reach out to me or my parents if you'd like to help but can't afford to ship the book/s yourself, and we'll figure it out!

Every Cloud...

Today convinced me that every cloud really does have a silver lining. 

A few weeks ago, I was feeling pretty awful and went to the nearest town, Mbale, and got diagnosed with a stomach infection (H. Pylori). But the doctors administering the tests were so nice, and were very interested in the Peace Corps and the work we do here in Uganda! They offered to help in any way they could, so I asked them if they'd be willing to come give a health talk at my school. 

Today, these three doctors from the International Medical Centre in Mbale drove almost half an hour to our school! P6 and P7 are now well-versed in practicing good hygiene and both the prevention and recognizing the symptoms of malaria, cholera, and typhoid! 

The doctors also shared their own journeys into the medical profession. All three of them came from villages in Eastern Uganda, went to primary schools in their villages, and worked very hard to get into secondary school. One doctor said "I was even barefoot, like some of you. But you will all set goals and work hard. I am seeing here future presidents, ministers of government, doctors... You are laughing, but yes! I know you will be our good teachers, lawyers, engineers." 

Everyone walked away with a smile on their face, and I couldn't be more grateful to these wonderful doctors.

This Post Isn't Really About a Wallet

A few weeks ago, in Jinja (a city about four hours away from my home), I bought a new wallet. I’d already had a wallet that I’d bought in the Central Region of Uganda, and it is beautifully made, but I’d bought it out of necessity and my only option at the time was to buy one that is red and green—Christmas colors.  I love Christmas colors... for exactly two months of the year, and those months have come and gone. But this wallet had held up very well for a wallet that cost only a few thousand shillings (maybe two or three US dollars, I don’t remember exactly) so I kept using it.

            Until I was out shopping with my friends and I decided to treat myself and buy a new wallet! I found one that was the same style, but had a beautiful print of Africa in light brown and mint green. I bought it, and…promptly lost it. I put the shopping bag that it was in underneath my chair when we went to the pool that day, and I just forgot it. I felt like a total space case, but oh well, at least I hadn’t put anything in it yet. I chalked it up to “shit happens” and put it out of my mind.

           

             And then last week, Kara and I were walking down the street in Mbale (a town about 20 minutes away from my home) and we happened upon a shop selling local handmade crafts. Kara knew about my failed attempt to own a new wallet, and saw that they had wallets inside, so we ducked in for a quick second to glance at them, since we’d had another destination in mind. This shop didn’t have anything like my wallet, but I liked a small piece of artwork and took my wallet out to buy it. The shopkeeper noticed my wallet and she absolutely loved it. I was a bit taken aback by her enthusiasm, but I let her inspect it and then she had me promise to return the next time I was in Mbale so that she could measure it in detail, cut fabric, and make one herself.

            Well, today I am again in Mbale (to get the medicine for my stomach infection, which Peace Corps sent to the Post Office here). I stepped inside Dorothy’s shop and she was so happy to see me! She remembered my purpose there as soon as I took out my wallet, and said that God must have had it all planned out, because she had actually been about to leave to run errands, so I wouldn't have found her there if I’d come a few minutes later. She immediately grabbed a piece of beautiful pink fabric and began to measure my wallet and cut the fabric accordingly.

            I mentioned to her that my grandmother had loved to sew, and that I'd loved watching her work. Dorothy loved that, and also thought it was hilarious when I told her that my friends and I'd had two sewing machines in our apartment at school, as even here in Uganda it is a bit abnormal for young girls to be interested in sewing. And then from that point on, Dorothy started explaining every step of what she was doing so that I could learn. I ended up spending almost two hours at her shop, chatting a bit, but mostly just sitting in companionable silence and watching her work.

            I learned that she was born in Kampala, Uganda’s capital, but her father is of the Bagisu tribe so she and her family moved from the Central Region to live here in the Eastern Region. She herself has three children, all boys, and she actually has a son who lives in Florida! He got his undergrad in engineering here in Uganda, and then got his Master’s in America and currently works as an airplane mechanic.

Almost finished!

            After a few hours, much hard work, and ripping out the stitching to restart a section once or twice, Dorothy ended up creating this lovely pink wallet! Another beautiful aspect is that it is truly handmade—most of the sewing machines I have seen here in Uganda are the old Singer machines, which are powered by a foot pedal instead of electricity (which isn't very reliable here). So, I guess a more accurate term would be footmade? But you get the point, haha. A lot of work goes into making these small, fabric pieces of artwork.

            And then I made it to the Post Office (yes, dad, I picked up my medicine) and my favorite coffee shop (Endiro, in case anyone was curious) to write this just in time to avoid being caught in the intense rainstorm that’s happening right now! I know I say it too often, but it’s so true—every day here is an adventure.

Rosemary

Rosemary is my counterpart. I've mentioned her before once or twice on this blog, and I just want to reiterate that she is a beautiful human. A counterpart is someone who was already teaching at your site who Peace Corps asks to take on an additional role, to guide you through the process of becoming familiar with a Ugandan school, and a new language, and basically just be your primary support system while you adjust. Let me tell you, I feel so honored to have Rosemary as my counterpart and—more importantly—my friend. 

Rosemary teaches science in both streams of P4 (about 200 students total, 100 per classroom) and is also the Senior Woman teacher. She is an enthusiastic teacher and a joyful person, and has a very compassionate worldview. She loves to laugh, and she's an inspiration with the way she captures the attention of the pupils. And she always makes time for my questions!

As part of the School Profile Tool that Peace Corps assigned each of us to complete, I conducted an interview with Rosemary, which actually turned into a two hour conversation. I'm grateful to Peace Corps for sparking that, since we don't often make time during the day to just sit and talk (as my school has no staff room so teachers are really only near each other during lunch, which is a big group setting).

I want to add, this has been published here with Rosemary's knowledge and blessing!

Rosemary has been a teacher since 2004, but was teaching at a private school from 2004-2013, when she began teaching at government schools. She made this change because government schools pay even during the holidays, unlike private schools. Also, at government schools, you are able to retire at 60 with a pension, and there are no such benefits at a private school.

Rosemary's mother was a teacher, so she has teaching in her blood, she says. She aspires to be an MP someday, but does not think she will be able to because she is a Bagisu living in Teso Region, she would have to return to her home in order to have any hope of being elected.

Rosemary grew up around Nakeloke (a town only a few minutes by taxi from where we live now), and left when she got married. This prompted me to jokingly ask "Oh, how many cows?" which turned out to be the best possible thing I could have said, because it launched us into a discussion of the dowry system here. 

Usually, in the Teso Region of Eastern Uganda, a woman is given in marriage in exchange for the groom giving her family a predetermined amount of cows, goats, and money. The "price" of each woman is determined by a variety of factors, the most important of which seems to be her level of education. (All of this information was told to me by both my language trainer, Beatrice, and my host mom, Toto Marion.) A woman who is educated can cost something like 10 cows, 7 goats, and 4 million shillings (Each cow is worth about 1 million shillings, and 1 million shillings is the equivalent of about $300 in America, so getting married is clearly very expensive). A woman who gets pregnant young, and has to drop out of school, will be married for something like one or two cows and maybe 1 million shillings. 

Rosemary's situation is very unique. Her father did not want any cows, or money, or anything else. In her words, he said he was not "selling" his child. Because of this, Rosemary says she is able to discuss things with her husband as an equal; he does not "own" her. When there is a decision to be made, they sit at the table and talk it through. She said that if it ever became necessary, they would be able to continue on their own journeys separately.

This is important because that's not how it usually is here, traditionally. My host mother taught me a lot about the dowry system here in Eastern Uganda, and her opinion was that when a man pays for his wife he feels like the master of her. Anything she earns or produces—including her children—belongs to him. 

Rosemary pointed out that the high dowry fee often means that the husband becomes poor in paying for his wife, while it's her parents who are wealthy off of what he had earned. This can cause tension in the marriage, as the husband resents the wife and her parents. Along with this, of the wife chooses to go back to her home, the husband can demand back the dowry he paid. Often, the wife's parents no longer have it, as it has been used to buy wives for their own sons or could even have been eaten, in the case of cows or goats.

Rosemary's voice broke, and I had tears in my own eyes, as she told me of one story in particular. It was about the sister of a teacher at our own school. She was being abused horribly by her husband, so she went home to her parents and told them "If you send me back there, I will die." Then, her husband came to them, demanding his cows back. Her father did not want to send her back to her husband, but he also no longer had the finances to pay back the dowry. Her father could not cope with this decision, poisoned himself, and died. Rosemary said this is only one of many problems with the dowry system.

Rosemary's is an important perspective on the dowry system, but it is one perspective only. She has a happy marriage without having had a dowry, but I want to emphasize that that doesn't mean all marriages with the dowry are unhappy ones. Both of my host mothers were married in the traditional way, with a dowry, and although both are widowed now they speak of their marriages and husbands with happiness in their eyes. My language trainer, Beatrice, proudly told us how many cows her husband paid for her. She often tells us stories of her rambunctious children, and in my opinion she lives a very happy life. 

It is not for me to judge, or to label the dowry system with an overarching "bad" or "good." Just as any system that humans create, it is multifaceted and deeply complex. It is an important part of the culture here, though, as marriage is in almost every society. I hope to share with you all as I learn more about it, and I hope that you also can take my conversation with Rosemary for what it is—one perspective, one story. Each woman I meet here has a different experience with marriage, and I hope to get to know more of them at the level where I can learn each of their unique perspectives. 
 

Crazy? All the Best People Are

Crazy, disorganized chaos... and a lot of smiling faces! I started my book box project today! 

When I was in elementary school, my best friend was my librarian (Ms. LuAnne Knobbe). She was instrumental in inspiring and guiding my love of reading, and ever since then, the idea of being a librarian has been at the back of my mind. This may be a slightly unconventional way to go about it, but that doesn't make me any less excited! 

It will get more organized as time goes on, but for today we began with 107 books and ended the hour with the same 107, so I'm going to call that a success! 

At one point we had 63 pupils inside looking at the books and about 20 more watching through the window, interested but not quite brave enough yet to go inside. I asked them "Ikoitos yesi aisiom toma?" (Do you all want to go inside and read?) and they said "Moi!" (Tomorrow!)

The children are all very excited to see books! Many of them were reading out loud to themselves, and some of them were even reading the same book out loud, together in groups. This was wonderful to see, because they'd organized it themselves, and it meant that even if they didn't know all of the words on their own, there was a group there to help them figure it out! As you can imagine, our library is nowhere near quiet, and I've made sure to tell all of the teachers that, personally, I don't want it to be a quiet place. Reading should be fun, it can be loud, pupils can be excited about it! (Hopefully, once we have a lending system, that'll take care of the slight issue of the pupils who might need a quiet environment to read. No one has complained or mentioned it yet, though!)

I outlined our library rules last week at assembly on Friday morning. I made sure to put them in English, Ateso (one of the P2 teachers translated it for me), and as descriptive of pictures as possible. Because, as one of my friends pointed out when I was running my ideas past him... how are they going to know that it says they're welcome even if they can't read, if they can't read...? Which was an extremely good point. 

So, here's my best effort! It's currently taped on the wall outside of P7, which is nowhere near the classroom we use for our library. However, it's right in front of the space where they hold assembly every day, so I figure that it'll be looked at by the pupils whenever their attention wanders from assembly. That should be a great way for all of them to get familiar with it! (I haven't, of course, explained my reasoning in that regard to the administration, since they're the ones speaking at assembly...)