A Weekend at Jinja

From what I understand, most volunteers seem to go away for at least a weekend to do something really cool while they’re in Uganda, like white water rafting on the Nile or bunjee jumping or Gorilla trekking or big safaris, something of that sort. I was also attracted to a weekend getaway, but all it took to lure me in was the prospect of a warm shower, sunbathing and a 15,000 shilling (7 dollar) hour-massage.

Sophie (a newer English volunteer) and I left Friday morning for Jinja, the ‘adventure capital’ of Uganda. I can concur that it is definitely the Mzungu capital, if nothing else. We stayed at Hotel Paradise on the Nile, and for a little over 17 dollars a night it was as close to paradise as possible. It was clean, secure, and had a beautiful view of the Nile. It was a short boda-boda trip away from Jinja town, the source of the Nile, and almost neighbored Jinja Backpacker’s hostel, where we could organize whatever adventure our itineraries (and budgets) would allow.

Friday was kind of gloomy so we though we’d just explore the town, check out the shops and go to Backpacker’s to make plans for the rest of the trip. It was here where I was a little too excited to enjoy some more familiar tastes from home; a falafel wrap and a cold beer.

Then Sophie and I looked into a mountain bike tour. We both ride at home and had mentioned missing bike rides, so this would be fun for both of us. Herman told us Jinja is flat, and our guidebooks also said it’s a great town to explore via cycling. I think these two things made Sophie and I (both exclusive road-bikers) underestimate a 4-hour mountain bike ride through the villages of Jinja, which we enthusiastically booked for the next morning.

First it was fine. We were on paved roads and the traffic wasn’t horrendous. It was still a little gloomy so the sun wasn’t punishing us as it probably would have on a normal day. Then the further we got from Jinjatown, the less-paved the roads became. But we still weren’t on a bike path, either. I felt like a kindergartener trying to operate a jackhammer for part of it where the cracks and bumps were almost unbearable. I was shaking so hard all over, I couldn’t even see straight enough to try avoiding the bigger bumps and potholes.

Then there were the hills. Sophie mentioned wanting to weep at one point and I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind as well. While I know it’s physically impossible, I’m pretty sure that over the course of the ride, the hostel we started and ended at must have somehow slid up to a much, much higher elevation from when we began.

But the hills would’ve been much more manageable, if it wasn’t for the rain. Sheets of it, for about the last hour, extended by a miscommunication with our guide. Maybe it’s my American accent but I’m pretty sure “I’d like to go home as soon as possible’ sounds much different than anything that would make him think we still wanted to go on a boat in the River Nile to see it’s source… in a thunderstorm. Anyway, we made it home alright and by that night we were able to find the humor in our situation rather than steeping in frustration. We looked back and appreciated getting to see some of the homes, gardens and hilltop scenes which we never would’ve found ourselves.

We squeezed in a boat tour to the source of the Nile with a guide named ‘Shorty’ later that evening. We were lucky enough to go during sunset, which was possibly our only real window of opportunity for the duration of our trip that wasn’t in the rain or in the dark.

We figured the next day HAD to be clearer for laying out by the pool, and maybe the elusive masseuse who hadn’t been available all weekend would suddenly show up. But, Sunday came with a third day of rain (almost unheard of for this time of the year), and the massage I had been prematurely bragging about all week didn’t happen either. I thoroughly enjoyed toasted bread and cold milk on my cereal at breakfast, then we went ahead and left for Kampala.

I’ve come across a lot of situations here where I’ve reminded myself that no matter how upset or irritated I get, the outcome will only be as positive as my attitude. I think I was starting to lose that mindset at home, so it’s good being tested again in a less subtle way. I hope this will help me be more grounded and mindful while approaching similar problems in the future.

Welaba,

Lucy

good news and bad news.

The first day I came to the new site with Freda, I dove right in with a group of 4 sisters, whose mother is in the hospital. They greet us down the path, before we even get to the actual site and hold our hands while walking back. They LOVE English lessons in the mornings, before the other children come for weaving and games. They are so eager to learn, it amazes me. They rewrite and perfect every word or sentence, even if I gave them a check mark and told them not to forget their “full stops” (periods) next time. When I offered them a break they said “teacher, there are still pages left” and held up their little paper notebooks. So I continued giving them little mini-spelling tests and doing corrections with them until their pages were full.
By then, I was the one who needed a break. And they still asked me for the lesson book and told me they wanted to go through it aloud. So I held up the exercises and the girls took turns. I told them how smart (clever) they are and they loved the one-on-one attention. It’s a totally different learning environment from the crowding at their school and they really appreciated the time I gave them. They really are very bright and beautiful and I loved them after the first day.
I’m considering staying at the new site through next week. I had planned on going on to an HIV education project with Cherryl, but now I’m finding myself more and more attached to helping these students and giving them all the tutoring I can while I’m still here. They do have Freda either way though, so I guess we will see.
As I mentioned before, Jospehine lives at the site with her own children and also shelters others in need. The 4 sisters have just arrived at her home recently and there used to be two different sisters.
About a month ago she took in two muslim girls who were more or less homeless. It’s said that the older sister, at 15 years old, was about to be married off by her older brother until Josephine went to find the girls and invite them to live with her. Unfortunately, a different brother showed up last week at the new site, telling Freda that he had to take both sisters with him, because they were visiting an ailing relative up in Northern Uganda. Josephine and Freda both spoke with him and questioned his actual motives, and whether both girls will actually be back. Especially considering how he wasn’t going to be the one taking them, but someone else was.
When a couple marries, it is the man’s family who is responsible for giving lots of gifts and offerings to the female’s family. We are all worried that the older brother is behind it all and is still planning on marrying her off for this temporary source of extra income. Marriage of anyone below 18 years old is illegal in Uganda, but like many laws, it’s not very well enforced, especially in the more rural northern areas.
The brother who came to school promised both girls would be back January 4th, and unfortunately, there’s nothing anyone can do until then. There’s no way to be in contact with the girls or check up on how they are doing. It’s a sad situation, but one of those things that no one can intervene in. These situations come up kind of a lot, when we think something is wrong and want to change it, but wince we are only outsiders and only here for a short period of time, we have to do our best to let it go.
I won’t be here January 4th, but Freda will be and I will definitely be keeping in touch with her to see how things all play out.
Welaba,
Lucy

the new site

Since Ttega is out of session, I decided to go to work with Freda at a project she’s helped initiate at her school in the neighboring village, Lungujja.
Lungujja primary and secondary school is a very run-down place. I’m not sure if that’s even an accurate description, since it was technically never built up. Like Ttega, Lungujja has no electricity or running water. However the maintenance at Ttega is much better, and Lungujja holds about 7 times as many children,making overcrowding a huge issue and keeping the lace clean practically impossible.
In order to help with overcrowding, a new site has been picked out for the school. However I’m still pretty unsure of how this tiny building is meant to be an improvement. Teacher Joesphine lives at the new site with 3 of her own children, and shelters others. She hopes to change 2 of the building’s rooms into dormitories for volunteers, and to make the last room a classroom. However by the looks of the building now, that won’t be any time soon at all.
Josephine just got a loan to put in floors, wiring for electricity and pipes for water. It is also for plastering the walls and putting windows in one of the rooms. However we are all concerned about how quickly this will happen, if at all. Lungujja is another school that accepts kids who can’t pay fees. The teacher’s salaries are long, long overdue, and payments on an older loan are proving to be difficult to pay, as well.
Here in Uganda, debt is something that people find themselves in a lot of trouble with- even more so than America. Cheryl was talking to me about the mindset of people in this kind of poverty. Here, everyone is worried about the present, only about today. When you have so little, you do everything you can to make it through one day at a time. So, if that means getting yourself into debt, it’s fine, because you’re not worried about how to pay it off later, you’ll figure that out when the time comes. I can definitely see evidence of this mindset, and in other ways than money.
So this is one of those problems that’s too big for any of us volunteers to approach. We can’t change someone’s mindset or way of life, no matter how much we think it’s for the better. So, Freda has started up a program where children can come get familiar with the new site, do arts and crafts, socialize and play games. The kids who live at the new site are there in the mornings and Freda has been giving them English lessons. I think it’s great that no matter how poor the facilities might be or what kind of problems the kids might be facing at home, theres almost always a way to help out and feel like you’re contributing, just because the kids are so flexible and will gladly lie in the dirt if you give them Enligsh to practice and the attention they need to get it right.

Welaba,
Lucy

my luxury day

I decided that I deserved a break after playing costume manager for Saturday’s concert. I couldn’t think of any better way to have a day to myself than at the pool of Lake Victoria Hotel, where Freda and I had had sodas the weekend before. But this time I was actually going to swim in it.
A day of swimming was 10,000 Ugandan shillings - less than 5 USD. It cost twice what it costs in Kampala and I would have gladly paid much more. I was really angry for forgetting to bring my camera this day. Pictures from the hotel web site will have to suffice.
I evened out my African farmer’s tan and swam a lot- the pool was spotless. I ate a chicken club sandwich and chips and followed it with a pineapple ‘malt beverage’ that I thought was a beer but actually wasn’t. The excessive carbonation hurt my stomach but I couldn’t stop drinking it. Anyway it was basically a perfect day. It was even worth the 4+ hours of transport in smelly taxis/buses. And considering it was the first trip out I have taken all on my own, I think it went pretty smoothly. As I suspected might happen, I think I’m getting used to the city right before my time here winds down. But for now I’m going to make the most of every day I’ve got left.
Welaba,
Lucy

My First Funeral

In Uganda, grieving is a very public process. Immediately following someone’s death, a fire is lit in their front yard by the family, and informal messengers are sent to tell the news to the village. Not only is everyone encouraged to come, but neighbors, co-workers of family members, and anyone of any relation, no matter the distance, is more or less obligated. If you run into someone who’s lost a family member and you didn’t attend the funeral, they will have no problem bringing up your dishonorable absence and making you feel like a bad family member/neighbor/acquaintance.
It’s so different from what I’m used to, where grief is so personal and private, and anyone distantly related who wants to be heavily involved might even be seen as greedy for people’s pity. Here, people stand on their front porch shrieking and crying so as many people as possible will gather.
Today at the school there were a few people who came to tell the news of the death in Lungujja. Josephine, the teacher at the ‘new site‘, got me a long skirt to borrow from her daughter and we headed over after lunch.
When we arrived around 3pm, the fire had died down and was just a pile of ash. There was a big tent and a couple dozen rental chairs under it facing the house. But most visitors sat in what I guess is the equivalent to a driveway. Around the side there was a fire pit and a huge pot of food cooking for the guests.
We walked up to the front door of the house and I had taken my first shoe off when I saw the feet. I was not prepared for seeing the stranger lying under a sheet in the center of the room. The living room was turned into an impromptu wake. I was really nervous at first since I’ve never been to a funeral and was really uncomfortable being in the same room as the body, but Freda assured me her was completely covered, and everyone else’s relaxed demeanor helped. I tried not to stare and to recite the Luganda condolences to the women sitting in the room and then to the widow, who was easy to pick out as she was wearing a black version of the Ugandan woman’s formal ‘gomez’ dress. I think they were all amused and/or thankful for mine and Freda’s fumbled attempts of “So sad, maam.” (something like ngachitolo nyo, nyabo)
We sat on mats which bordered the bed for a while. It was another occasion where I desperately wish I had known Luganda solely for the purpose of eavesdropping. The widow greeted each visitor as if she had known us for years. From what I could tell she recalled to each person the details of her husband’s death as if it were the first time and she was talking to her best friend, which I assume was basically opposite from the actual circumstance.
Everyone greeted Freda and I with kindness and welcoming. Though we had never seen any of them, much less the deceased, and had no actual conversation to improvise. They asked us what country we were from, just from curiosity, and then we kind of sat in silence while they chatted. With some subtle pleas form Freda and I, teacher Josephine excused the three of us and we left after about an hour’s visit.
Richard taught me about the rituals involving death during my orientation, and regardless of how uncomfortable I might have been, it was interesting to see it all play out in real life.
Welaba,
Lucy

Saturday was Ttega Child Development Centre’s end of the year concert. They’ve been preparing for their big musical every day since I’ve been there, and for a long time before that. There were a lot of numbers, it ended up lasting around 4 hours.

I helped create signage and props for the kids. I became the teacher’s designated drawer because they insisted that they ‘didn’t know how” and I always just laughed, I never did ask whether they meant they’ve never had an art class or they are just not any good at it. Anyway I wanted to help in any way I could and I figured I’d at least probably do a better job than the students could, and the teachers were all very busy.

During the show I became the de-facto costume manager. This was absolute chaos. Each class had at least two different costumes to wear besides their regular uniforms. Most costumes had many pieces and some had different shoes. All of the kids wanted to be helped at the same time and it was very difficult since I can’t communicate with them very well verbally. It was also really frustrating since I didn’t know what songs were next, who was in them or what they were supposed to be wearing. While the kids were waiting to go on stage or change costumes, they mostly fought with each other. There was a lot of hysterical crying backstage which I was really worried was distracting from the show, since the stage was only a few feet away from all of this toddler turmoil which progressed as the show lasted longer and longer.

Despite all of the complications, everyone who watched the show said the kids looked great, and they had no idea there was so much going on inside the school. So in the end I’m glad I was able to contribute and I think I really did help the concert go so smoothly. The parents absolutely loved the show and even the children who attended sat quietly and attentively for the entire thing. I think it was a good showing for Ttega.

It was hard for me though, not to notice all the money that went into the production. There was a tent rental, chair rental, and even a generator to power all of the audio equipment (a mic, amp and some huge speakers). It was so hard for me no to think about how two days prior the kids each had one cup of porridge and no real lunch, or how some of them were still wearing shoes that were so small and had been cut by their parents just so their feet would be able to be squeezed in for as long as possible.

But, this is how things work in Uganda. There are certain expectations for families, organizations and schools. These presentations are supposed to represent how good your group or institution is, and no one seems to think of how the money would be better spent. Weddings and other celebrations are very elaborate as well.

There are two things that justified it a little for me. Firstly, they accepted donations and people really did give. I’m not sure how much and I’m sure it didn’t cancel out the costs, but there was still a little money generated from the thing. Also, I know that one objective for the concert was to recruit for new students, and if they can bring in kids with parents who can afford fees, then it might be cost-effective in the long run. They even had a few skits and speeches specifically asking parents to bring their children to Ttega.

I was sad realizing that the concert was the last time I’d get to see them all together. The nightmare that was the ‘dressing room’ made the separation a little easier at the time but now I’m sad that most of them I’ll probably never see again. I just hope the little time I spent with them had some positive impact on them and that I made a good impression.

Welaba,

Lucy

Luganda and Ugandan English

Here is what I know so far and can use when speaking with a Ugandan:

Odi Otya? - Casual greeting, like how are you

Jendi - response to odi otya, saying youre doing well

Wasuze otya-no, (ssebo or nyabo)?- How did you sleep last night, (sir or maam)?

Bulungi/Bubi - Responses: Well, not well

Kaale - okay

_____ sente mekka? - ______ costs what?

Mpa ku _____ - Give me ______ (apparently the ‘ku’ makes it less of a demand and more of a polite request)

Webale - Thank you

Welaba - Goodbye

Nvudeo - I’m back (response to “Welcome back” which I can’t remember but is very easy to recognize when someone says it to me)

Tuula - Sit down (has come in handy at the school)

Wanji? - Yes? (response for when someone calls)

Ku stage - Stop (for when you are on a bus, taxi and need to get off)

M’zungu, M’dugavu - white, black (person)

- As I escort kids home from school tonsss of kids in the village come out and yell ‘Bye, Mzungu!” and the teachers have taught me to respond, “Bye, M’dugavu!” but I’m not sure if it might be offensive or not so I try not to say it when adults are around, hahah.

Maazi - water (not to be confused with mazii, which means feces)

Smart vs. clever - When you look nice, they say ‘you are smart,’ or when a house is nice or a hotel is new and modern, they call it ‘smart.’ When people reference someone’s intelligence they often use ‘clever’ instead.

Here, a “rubber” refers to an eraser, (not a condom). This startled me a little when one of my students first asked for one.

Pronunciation: The way Ugandans chose to pronounce certain words is sometimes by sounding out every letter. It’s especially noticeable when they sound out silent vowels at the end of the word. For example someone named Irene is pronounced “Irene-ey,” and the word clothes is pronounced “clothe-es.” Since lots of names either have an e or y at the end, they seem to get into the habit of adding the “ie” sound to the end of lots of names, even turning “Brian” into “Brian-ey.”

BUT Ugandans also sometimes choose to omit the end vowel. For example, lots of kids had a problem learning my name because they wanted to call me teacher Luc, no matter how many times we pronounced it for them emphasizing the y.

Sometimes these little quirks get put together and a word or phrase is skewed into something with a totally different meaning. One day I was trying to teach English words for transport and gave the students a sentence about taxi fare. Their selective omission ends up having them pronounce this as “tax fairy.” Even the teachers pronounce it like this. As you can imagine, things like this can make it hard to communicate a Ugandan even if they’re fluent in English.

As I’ve referenced before, they also say “Sank You” because their language doesn’t have the “th” sound. It’s easier for the little kids to adapt and learn the sound than it is for the adults, though.

Another difficulty for them is mixing up R’s and L’s. Everything in their language with an R is pronounced with the sound of an L. Sometimes this confusion translates into English and is even switched around. I was listening in on the kids’ concert rehearsal when a girl named Favour had a solo about wanting to be a pilot, and it sounded an awfully lot like she really wanted to be a pirate. Annie said other volunteers who heard the song heard the same thing.

It’s actually pretty cute when the kids make these little mistakes and once you learn the different way they pronounce things you get used to it and can kind of do a translation from Ugandan to American English. I’m not sure how much of a negative impact it would have on them to speak the “Ugandan English” as far as getting into a University in an English-speaking country or something like that but I hope that by the time anyone gets to the point where they could even apply to a school outside of Africa, they will have learned the proper way to pronounce everything. So I haven’t been super hard on them for correcting these little quirks. It’s especially hard when they’re learning them from their own English teacher, but again, maybe they will learn better later on in their education. That is, if they are able to get past Ttega and afford a secondary school…

Welaba,

Lucy