Day 18 – Sunday July 23

So scheduling in Africa has gotten completely out of control. We have tried, and actually been very successful, to fit in a lot of activity and keep to a tight agenda. Last Friday we skipped out on our first activity at Kirinda, and since then, it has pretty much fallen apart.

Today I was supposed to get up early and have three hours to go to the Internet café, send my thesis progress and update the blog. Then I was going to wash clothes before meeting with Father Leopold, whom we met the other night. Sara and her mother were supposed to be back from mass at noon, but they got back at 1:30pm, with news that we were having a Rootoro lesson at 3:00pm and that instead of meeting with Father Leopold here, we were now going to drive an hour away to meet his youth group. I did wake up early, but went back to bed until the bus rolled in. I hadn’t left the house in three days, and so I begged and pleaded to go to town before the afternoon activities. We made it to the café, where my three hours turned into 30 minutes. I have been writing a lot and really wanted to update, but there is never enough time!

Sara then informed us that Anna Mary wasn’t coming for Rootoro lessons, which was a relief, but we still had to get back for the meeting. Sara and her mother had to take care of the shopping at Mary’s Craft Shop, and the rest of the gang peaced on the trip with Father Leopold, so it was just Rachael, Whitney and I, which suited me fine.

We were scheduled to meet with Father Leopold to meet the youth group he has been directing. They are peer educators who focus on HIV/AIDS awareness, treatment and prevention. We originally thought we were meeting with an orphaned group whom Father Leopold took in and began distributing microfinance loans to, but today we were meeting with the youth group because they were desperately interested in microfinance support. Rachael did her thesis on microfinance, and one of the things we are doing in Uganda (now and in the future) is seeing about establishing our own microfinance institution with the Holy Cross for the many entities around Ft. Portal.

Father Leopold arrived promptly at 4:00pm, and we were off. Whitney and I sat in the back of his Nissan 4-door, 4-wheel drive, and Rachael sat in the front left – the driver seat in America, and Father Leopold drove on the right side. We realized how strange it was to be in the backwards car and not on a bus for the first time on our entire trip. We were thankful for the closed windows, air conditioning, and music. Father Leopold had this hilarious tape with the cheesy “you’re my soul and my life’s inspiraaaaaation” song on it. We giggled at first but it was quite relaxing, especially when the drive got out of control.

We drove out to the western part of town, which we had never been to, and saw a little bit more of Ft. Portal. Father Leopold told us this was the “slums,” but it didn’t really look all that different from the rest of the town outskirts. It was a bit dirtier and the roads were really bad, and we also noticed that there seemed to be a lot more people just kickin’ it rather than working like in the main town centers we’d seen.

Um, so Father Leopold is a crazy driver, but very good at it. Whitney and I sat back in pure shock and amazement of how people drive in Uganda. It’s ironic because the people are so friendly and hospitable, but when it comes to driving, bicycling and walking, it’s completely out of control. And it’s not like New York City, or London or anywhere else in Europe or America you think is bad. There is absolutely no order, and it is really every man woman and child for themselves. People just fly by and manage to get away a split second before crashing into one another. We were amazed by Joseph’s driving skills with the bus, but Father Leopold was even more skillful. He noticed that we were a bit uncomfortable, after we buckled our seatbelts and held on to the handrails for dear life, but he just laughed. “The drunk drives a straight line in Uganda” he said, which apparently is a common saying in the country. Whitney and I saw a family of goats in the middle of the road, and we weren’t sure if he was even going to stop. Luckily he broke just in time. And he may or may not have hit a few people on bicycles. And this a priest we are talking about here!

The only thing that distracted our fears was the amazing countryside. Little did we know we were taking the road to Bundibugiyo, the last town in Uganda before the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo. The mountains seemed to swallow us up. We reached deep into the fog, and when it broke here and there we could see how high up we were. We had all been excited to see the mountains around Ft. Portal, but our view had been dampened by the haze. Luckily it had been raining so we could see pretty well, except for the thick fog, which was so thick you could cut it with a knife and make African igloos out of it if you wanted to. As we reached the cutoff to the parish, we saw the most beautiful view of the hills just below the tip of the mountains. Never in my life have mountains taken my breath away like they had growing up in the Rockies.

We took the cutoff to the parish and down the road to the bishop’s house. There under the big tree was a gathering of about 75 people. “I hope that’s not for us,” Rachael said. “I think it is,” I said. I think the group had been expecting all of us, but because the rest of the group was tired and the bus probably not safe to take, it was just the three of us. I felt a little uncomfortable because we were just three young students, but it didn’t bother me too much – it might actually help that we are around the same age, and also because the group knew we were there to help with microfinance (hence we were the white people coming to save the day).

We got out of the truck and were greeted by Patrick, Paul and Samuel (pronounced Sam-well like in Spanish), three excited, professional young men who directed the Kitumbi Anti-AIDS Club. They immediately made us feel “most welcome” as all Ugandans do and led us to our seats for yet another visitors’ program. Now after the first couple of welcome programs I was a little frustrated because we were put on display and treated like kings and queens, but I have learned to really enjoy them. One of the things I like best is that the people are very conscious of our time and energy. The programs are always super organized – every single one has an agenda with a good mix of speeches, introductions, and business. And they are sure as hell more organized than a lot of club meetings I’ve been to in my life. The people realize we visit many entities, and I can’t say enough how proud they are to have someone come far into their communities and learn about the work they are doing. This isn’t a show, and they aren’t sucking up for money either – this is a genuine spirit that we have noticed in each and every one of the groups we have been blessed to spend time with. The people there were definitely the youth, but the community had come out to witness the event as well.

Entertainment always comes first, which is usually the traditional shake-and-stomp dancing, but this part of the program was really special. Father Leopold had explained to us that the group uses song, dance and drama to communicate their messages about HIV/AIDS, which we understood because of the culture and somewhat lack of English or good language skills. This was also a chance for the young men and women to showcase their talents – apparently there had been a dance competition and we were being treated by the group that won.

The musical/drum/dance skit was incredible. The kids were well rehearsed and really put their hearts into it, we could tell not just for us, but for them. It was complete with drums, overlays and background narration. We didn’t even need Father Leopold to interpret the words. One of the young men chased around the girl, taunting her and asking her for sex. He threw money at her, offered her his cell phone, and pleaded with her to have sex with him. The girl and the rest of the group proudly shook their hands in unison and said “no gifts for sex.” “We are calling on all Ugandans to resist the pressure,” they said in Rootoro, and to adhere to the “ABCs” of sex education – A, practice abstinence before marriage, B, be faithful, and C, use condoms. Then they even threw in a skit about stigma, about how the HIV/AIDS victims face discrimination from the community, and most often times, their former partners, but as the girl in the skit, the group and the people continue to “shake it off.”

“The youth have suffered more than ever because of AIDS,” they proclaimed. “But even with death there is still hope…we are living free with and without AIDS.” Unbelievable. I still have a hard time wrapping around in my head the courage to both face the problem and live with the issue, as well as the intelligence in their education and their faith in what they are doing.

After the skit we heard from the youth leaders, who handed us the equivalent of an African professional memo, with letterhead y todo. The Kitumbi Anti-AIDS Club operates out of the Kitumbi Catholic Perish, which was created in 1986 and includes 50,000 people. The group specifically includes 57 students ranging from ages 14-27. “The youths of Kitumbi are hardworking, social, creative good listeners and cooperative.” Their mission to combat HIV/AIDS is one that encourages them “to become future leaders with great responsibility and vision.”

They were all of those things and more. The chairperson gave us a detailed report – hand-written in good English, completely with figures about their activities, bullet points and proposals for future projects. “Behavior change cannot happen without economic change.” At first I thought this was a ploy for financial support, but when I thought about it, that’s really what it boils down to. It’s the same as the American ghetto as the African bush. Behavioral and social problems arise simply out of poor economic conditions. All these people want is to be able to work themselves out of their situations. They do not want to be stuck in the trap, and they want to live, and are living, their lives by working hard, being responsible and staying focused on a positive future.

The chairperson described the activities that the youth are doing, and I was again amazed. They had divided themselves up into entrepreneurial groups, similar to the HIV positive women we’d met last week, and coordinate things like poultry projects, carpentry work, and small farming organizations. All they were asking for is a little bit of help so that their already successful ventures can continue– things like minimal tools for carpentry and farming and land and space for the activities. I think at that moment Rachael and I were convinced that every single micro-organization in that group were the perfect candidates for as many micro-credit loans we could give out.

Rachael was our spokesperson, and she did a great job of thanking the group for making us feel most welcome, and told them how proud she was of the hard work that they are doing and that she hoped very much to go back to America and show them so that we can come back and work together. We didn’t really know what to say, but it didn’t really matter. I wanted to give every shilling in my pocket to those young brave souls, but I knew the time would come.

Father Leopold said a few words to the group in Rootoro, and closed with a prayer. “Lord bless these visitors for sacrificing their time to be with us today, and may you continue blessing their hands and the work they are carrying out with them.” It’s funny, of all the thank yous I’ve ever gotten in my life for what I do, I’ve never felt so appreciated in my life before coming to Uganda and hearing it from these people.

The group finished with another dance and skit. “AIDS has assaulted our families, but we are still hopeful. The only thing to do is join hands locally and internationally.” Father Leopold explained the importance of networking, but I had gotten it. This is what I want to do with my life, bring people together who have the resources to offer help to those who lack the capacity to help themselves. It’s really not all that complicated when you think about it. And no, George Bush, the problems of Africa, whether the genocide in Sudan or the fight against AIDS is not an African problem that requires an African solution.

The last thing I was amazed at is their unquestionable faith in God. We talk about American being a “Christian nation,” but they have nothing on the people of Uganda. We’d had this discussion earlier, and rather than being upset at God for the sickness and death that comes with AIDS, the people turn to God for hope and protection. Among the many activities the group does, they “pray because we believe God is able and enabling others to help us with this problem.” They also refer to themselves as “God-fearing.” This was a little confusing to me at first, but I get it now. It is not in the way you would think they are afraid of God, but rather the opposite – they trust God so much that they fear anything else. “For fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Make sense to me.

In closing, the chaplain reminded us that they are “grateful to have visitors in our Parish…this has shown us the great love you have towards us and Fort Portal in general. May the Almighty God cherish that great gift of love that he started in you.”

They showed their gratefulness once more by offering us tea and bananas, the culture norm after the program. The men asked if we had bananas in America, and I said yes, although they didn’t compare to the ones here. These were seriously the biggest and most delicious bananas I had ever tasted. I think they must have known this, because as a final show of their gratitude, they gave us a bunch to take home, which is customary in Ugandan culture – to give a gift, even the smallest offering – to those who come and visit.

We took a few pictures outside the parish in the beautiful setting. I took a few pictures of the mountains although you could hardly see them. One of the elders, who was responsible for taking pictures for their group, looked at me and then looked at the mountains. “The mountains of the moon,” he said. I think he was confused as to why I would take a picture of them. After all, this is what he sees everyday. It goes back to what Peter the politician said the other night about the mountains. It really is all they need.

Father Leopold took us the back roads on the way back. Although the drive was much more bumpy it was a lot faster. We didn’t realize that we had gone most of this way – it winded around Crater Lake and Saca where he had our first visit with the confirmation vows. It was all coming back, full circle again. I thought I had been to the top of the mountain the other night, but I realized that it wasn’t until now that I truly had.

We returned to the house inspired rather than exhausted. The gang was watching “The Fugitive” and we played around with Betty’s son before dinner. She made us the best spaghetti I have ever had except for my own mother’s – so good I had three servings and didn’t even make it to the crepes for dessert. I took my own little entertainment break with Super Mario 2 again – I’m loving the short breaks in video game land – and sat patiently as we tried to figure out what was coming up. I wanted to write and process as much as I could because it was all getting a little bit out of control. Poor Sara tried to explain and organize the final week’s activities, but it was next to impossible. We decided to just go with the flow because one thing was changing five minutes after it was supposed to be set anyway. After Sara talked with Sister Eddie Ann about the plans I got the opportunity to call my mom, who is always so happy to hear my voice. She had printed all the photos I posted online and has a photo album waiting for me at home. The time is coming.

After dinner I went to my room, thinking that I had plenty of time to write, and the African reindeer games began. On and off went the electricity. Seriously about six times, which is not normal. I thought it would fix itself because it had been raining so much and had been pretty constant, but of course, with all the things I needed to do, it finally went off.

So here I am. I am not going to Karisoi early in the morning. Thank goodness. I will get to say goodbye on Tuesday. Tomorrow I absolutely must do laundry. I feel clean, but I am wearing an interracial pair of socks and no boxers. My face needs to be shaven and my body needs to be stretched. My hair and bed are filled with bugs.

Thank goodness I completed the day’s journal in just enough battery time. It’s so hard to update the previous activities when you have more and more in a day (and a thesis to write). I’m going to get this updated and posted though, that’s for sure. One last update with the blog and then I’ll have completed most of my African journal, and now I can disappear into academic land until all this can be resurfaced. May the lord continue blessing my tired hands and the work I carry out with them.