DAY 6 - Tuesday July 11th
Today was a big day for us. We had heard so much about this place called “Kirinda,” and we finally got to see it for ourselves. Kirinda is the name of the Holy Cross Family Center located in Kyrusose, a very small town that adjoins the local villages about an hour outside of Ft. Portal “in the bush” – the most rural parts of Africa. Everything we do at St. Edward’s is connected to Kirinda. This is where many of the crafts are made from Mary’s shop in town that are sold at the craft sale at school (we make an average of $5000 in two weeks of selling). There are about 60+ students, mostly women but some men, and at the school the people both learn and teach others sewing, dress making, craft making, and other “home economic” vocational skills. It was started and still is run by Sister Eddie Ann, who as we noticed quickly, kept everyone in line in the palm of her hand. I decided that she is the African equivalent of my high school student government adviser Mrs. Tilley – a women who had used the same, some may say overtly stern, methods of discipline, but who had seen unbelievable success in 30+ doing what she does and touching so many peoples’ lives along the way.
We were presented with a special treat at Kirinda the moment we arrived. As soon as we got off the bus the people instantly burst into song. “Welcome to, our visitors…we’re so happy… to sing this song…our motto is…to go forward…to go backward – never.”
We all wanted to cry. We met a few of the ladies and said hello to Sister Eddie Ann, who began the tour.
The school was a modest, yet incredible building, with about 8 classrooms, an office, and two storage closets, which included many of the things we had donated over the years from St. Ed’s. We went into each classroom to say hello to the various teachers and students. Every time we went in they dropped what they were doing and sang the welcome song. Sister Eddie Ann had to stop them every time. “They could go on for hours, in English and Rootoro.” I wished they would, it was so beautiful.
We finally made it outside to the gazebo/cabana-like huts that were absolutely amazing – a sturdy and comfortable escape from the hot sun. We took our seats and Sister Eddie Ann introduced the two teachers who would take over for the rest of the afternoon.
We had no idea what we were about to witness. Apparently, the school had been waiting for our arrival for months, and had put together what turned into an almost two-hour program full of song, dance and skits to welcome us. Of course it sounded more like “weld-colm toalla vistas.” Each group had their own thing, and one by one gave it to us. I never felt so special in my life. I could not begin to count the “thank you for coming here,” “you are so welcome,” and simple “we love you.” How many people do you know in America that just break out in song and tell you that they love you when they meet you for the first time? Oh Africa.
The village and Kirinda kind of shocked me. I knew it was on the outskirts of town, but I had no idea. This was the rural of the rural, the poorest of the poor, and the most uneducated people in Africa. I would say 95% of the people had never had a basic lesson on anything in life ever before other than from the Kirinda Center. It was crazy to see adults, even grandmothers, behaving like children, but it was innocent and wonderful at the same time. The program was definitely a community event – it attracted all the people working in the small fields across the street and basically everyone around the compound. It reminded me a lot of Maxwell, New Mexico where I went to high school. Everything was done in community because it was so small. My mother, who was the K-12 principal, had a knack for bringing people together and allowing them to shine, from elementary kids to high school tough guys, teachers, parents, and all the other people in the area who would have fallen through the cracks without her. I wish she could have been there to see it. There was this one lady – the program leader in fact – and she was just beaming with pride. She reminded me of Jodi Smart in Maxwell, the kookiest lady in the world, but also the bravest and sweetest.
All they talked about was how thankful they were for the skills they were learning, the education they were receiving, the empowerment of their lives, and the joy and happiness it brought into their lives. “We thank God, who has brought you here,” one of the head teachers said. “We thank God for sending us Sister Eddie Ann for so long and we pray that we can keep her.”
The dancing was awesome. They really got into it. They had the shakers tied on their feet and the straw belly skirts. Man they could move. They even made a few of us go out and dance with them, and the people loved it. This is kind of random, but reminds me of a site I’ll never forget. Although most of the women were dressed in plain clothes, which they had probably made for themselves, there were a few imported American-ized t-shirts (remember the discussion about Goodwill people). I looked at the woman leading the drum, and sure enough, there was Dolly Parton’s ginormous face smack dab in the middle of her shirt. Talk about cross cultural communication. Hilarious.
Two songs in particular really touched me. My old leadership adviser Jennifer once told me my challenge is to “change the culture,” no matter what I’m doing. She is absolutely right, and it was incredible to see a culture being changed for the better, especially in a remote village in Africa. The first song was sung by the cutest little children, who were shy but well practiced. The jist of it was this: “some kids want a motorcycle, some want a car, some want money…we say no no no….all we want is education.” We were blown away, but more so were the other people at the center. Every goddamn student in America – kindergarten through college – needs to hear that song.
The other song came at the very end, and it was more of a song to each other than to us. It was all about women’s empowerment. One of the major keys to the U.N. Millennium Development Goals is women’s empowerment. It has a ripple effect of every aspect of poverty and social ills in all of the developing world – even in America, even though we are much farther along in this regard. Anyway, the song talked about how important it was for women to be proud, be educated, take the lead role in making their families’ lives better. One quote was the best: “use your skills and make your own income so your heart does not end up in a man’s pocket.”
At the end of the program we met the women who had graduated from the 2-year vocational program. They were so happy to meet us. One by one we said the traditional hello, how are you, what is your pet name, what is your real name, you are most welcome exchange. I thought we were going to do this for every single person at the school, and even though we were so tired and overwhelmed, I would have done it.
We also got to greet all the new babies in the community, who we had peeked at during the service. One by one the mothers brought the children up and let Sara hold them and take pictures. They were adorable but I didn’t get near them…as cute as they are, I don’t like babies. It’s just me. I’m always afraid I will drop their heads and break their necks.
Right before it was over the funniest thing happened…Moses, the male teacher, brought a large bundle for us to look at…everyone got all excited and when he unveiled the sheet we all laughed hysterically – he had wrapped up one of the large puppets they used in the play and tried to pass it off. They have a good sense of humor in Uganda to say the least.
Though we had been officially welcomed, we couldn’t leave without a gift. I thought it was going to be maybe a basket or something…no siree. To our astonishment they brought out three humongous baskets of food. Pineapples, watermelon, avocadoes, tomatoes, potatoes, the list went on and on. The baskets were literally overflowing. I was so upset, only because Sara had mentioned that we would be receiving lavish gifts and there was nothing we could do except take them. There was just so much food, and they needed it so much more than we did. But it was all they had to give, and they were so proud to do it. Sara said each person had brought things individually from their own farms and gardens to put in the collection. Unbelievable.
We waved goodbye saying “wabali muno” (thank you very much) over and over as much as we could.
Still have to finish this post…the day wasn’t over yet.
We were presented with a special treat at Kirinda the moment we arrived. As soon as we got off the bus the people instantly burst into song. “Welcome to, our visitors…we’re so happy… to sing this song…our motto is…to go forward…to go backward – never.”
We all wanted to cry. We met a few of the ladies and said hello to Sister Eddie Ann, who began the tour.
The school was a modest, yet incredible building, with about 8 classrooms, an office, and two storage closets, which included many of the things we had donated over the years from St. Ed’s. We went into each classroom to say hello to the various teachers and students. Every time we went in they dropped what they were doing and sang the welcome song. Sister Eddie Ann had to stop them every time. “They could go on for hours, in English and Rootoro.” I wished they would, it was so beautiful.
We finally made it outside to the gazebo/cabana-like huts that were absolutely amazing – a sturdy and comfortable escape from the hot sun. We took our seats and Sister Eddie Ann introduced the two teachers who would take over for the rest of the afternoon.
We had no idea what we were about to witness. Apparently, the school had been waiting for our arrival for months, and had put together what turned into an almost two-hour program full of song, dance and skits to welcome us. Of course it sounded more like “weld-colm toalla vistas.” Each group had their own thing, and one by one gave it to us. I never felt so special in my life. I could not begin to count the “thank you for coming here,” “you are so welcome,” and simple “we love you.” How many people do you know in America that just break out in song and tell you that they love you when they meet you for the first time? Oh Africa.
The village and Kirinda kind of shocked me. I knew it was on the outskirts of town, but I had no idea. This was the rural of the rural, the poorest of the poor, and the most uneducated people in Africa. I would say 95% of the people had never had a basic lesson on anything in life ever before other than from the Kirinda Center. It was crazy to see adults, even grandmothers, behaving like children, but it was innocent and wonderful at the same time. The program was definitely a community event – it attracted all the people working in the small fields across the street and basically everyone around the compound. It reminded me a lot of Maxwell, New Mexico where I went to high school. Everything was done in community because it was so small. My mother, who was the K-12 principal, had a knack for bringing people together and allowing them to shine, from elementary kids to high school tough guys, teachers, parents, and all the other people in the area who would have fallen through the cracks without her. I wish she could have been there to see it. There was this one lady – the program leader in fact – and she was just beaming with pride. She reminded me of Jodi Smart in Maxwell, the kookiest lady in the world, but also the bravest and sweetest.
All they talked about was how thankful they were for the skills they were learning, the education they were receiving, the empowerment of their lives, and the joy and happiness it brought into their lives. “We thank God, who has brought you here,” one of the head teachers said. “We thank God for sending us Sister Eddie Ann for so long and we pray that we can keep her.”
The dancing was awesome. They really got into it. They had the shakers tied on their feet and the straw belly skirts. Man they could move. They even made a few of us go out and dance with them, and the people loved it. This is kind of random, but reminds me of a site I’ll never forget. Although most of the women were dressed in plain clothes, which they had probably made for themselves, there were a few imported American-ized t-shirts (remember the discussion about Goodwill people). I looked at the woman leading the drum, and sure enough, there was Dolly Parton’s ginormous face smack dab in the middle of her shirt. Talk about cross cultural communication. Hilarious.
Two songs in particular really touched me. My old leadership adviser Jennifer once told me my challenge is to “change the culture,” no matter what I’m doing. She is absolutely right, and it was incredible to see a culture being changed for the better, especially in a remote village in Africa. The first song was sung by the cutest little children, who were shy but well practiced. The jist of it was this: “some kids want a motorcycle, some want a car, some want money…we say no no no….all we want is education.” We were blown away, but more so were the other people at the center. Every goddamn student in America – kindergarten through college – needs to hear that song.
The other song came at the very end, and it was more of a song to each other than to us. It was all about women’s empowerment. One of the major keys to the U.N. Millennium Development Goals is women’s empowerment. It has a ripple effect of every aspect of poverty and social ills in all of the developing world – even in America, even though we are much farther along in this regard. Anyway, the song talked about how important it was for women to be proud, be educated, take the lead role in making their families’ lives better. One quote was the best: “use your skills and make your own income so your heart does not end up in a man’s pocket.”
At the end of the program we met the women who had graduated from the 2-year vocational program. They were so happy to meet us. One by one we said the traditional hello, how are you, what is your pet name, what is your real name, you are most welcome exchange. I thought we were going to do this for every single person at the school, and even though we were so tired and overwhelmed, I would have done it.
We also got to greet all the new babies in the community, who we had peeked at during the service. One by one the mothers brought the children up and let Sara hold them and take pictures. They were adorable but I didn’t get near them…as cute as they are, I don’t like babies. It’s just me. I’m always afraid I will drop their heads and break their necks.
Right before it was over the funniest thing happened…Moses, the male teacher, brought a large bundle for us to look at…everyone got all excited and when he unveiled the sheet we all laughed hysterically – he had wrapped up one of the large puppets they used in the play and tried to pass it off. They have a good sense of humor in Uganda to say the least.
Though we had been officially welcomed, we couldn’t leave without a gift. I thought it was going to be maybe a basket or something…no siree. To our astonishment they brought out three humongous baskets of food. Pineapples, watermelon, avocadoes, tomatoes, potatoes, the list went on and on. The baskets were literally overflowing. I was so upset, only because Sara had mentioned that we would be receiving lavish gifts and there was nothing we could do except take them. There was just so much food, and they needed it so much more than we did. But it was all they had to give, and they were so proud to do it. Sara said each person had brought things individually from their own farms and gardens to put in the collection. Unbelievable.
We waved goodbye saying “wabali muno” (thank you very much) over and over as much as we could.
Still have to finish this post…the day wasn’t over yet.
posted by Jake McCook @ 6:48 PM
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