Last Blog from Gulu

So in about 3 hours all 20 of us will be packing into a van and leaving Gulu for good. We'll be heading to Murchison Falls today and sleeping out in tents, and tomorrow we'll be going on a half day Safari and then making the 8 hour drive back down to Kampala. Basically I will be in a van for 14 hours tomorrow, yikes! Monday is rafting and Bungee jumping into the Nile, Tuesday is the market in Kampala, and Wednesday I'll be coming home (although I'll be arriving at JFK on Thursday). A totally sweet man in a uniform will be waiting for me at the airport with my name on a card and everything! I feel like such a grown-up, lol, I'll be going from boda rides in Gulu to a sweet Benz in NYC! I hate to say it but.....I deserve it! :)

This trip has been such an amazing experience because it has been, if anything, a hardcore kick in the teeth as far as reality is concerned. My perspective has totally changed, and I think for the better. I feel as if I was pushed to the limit  and past it in so many ways, and I definitley know a lot more about myself and what I'm capable of. Teaching in Africa is nothing like I thought it would be, but I feel as if that's a good thing. Sometimes I guess it takes travelling 12,000 miles to see how good of a teacher you can be. If anything, I now know that a budget means nothing. It doesn't matter how many sharpies, sentence strips or post-its you have, an education comes from the heart and minds of the students and teacher combined. I can't wait to how my new Kindergartners and First graders all of my pictures and videos, and they're totally going to love my giraffe skirt :)

A quick recap of some of the cultural differences here:

People will very often raise their eyebrows to say "yes"

Men hold hands (just friends)

People are really used to opening bottles with their teeth

Motorcycle helmets don't really happen, and you will often see a man on a motorcycle with 2 three year olds straddling the front and another child in the back

People don't give you change, they make "balance"

Time is measured not in a "little bit" but a "few some minutes"

Jeans are just starting to be ok for women to wear in public

I had to leave a restaurant the other night because the owner got drunk and closed himself in the kitchen

There are so many more, but I'm heading over to Kope to get one last sandwich, and in Uganda, waiting an hour or two for food is completely normal. 

I finished "The Things They Carried", and although I thought I forgot it at home, I just found "The Kite Runner", and I'll probably tear through that in the car.

I can't wait to get home, see my family, my roommate, my friends, and eat a bagel!

I think just out of habit I'm going to stand in my bathroom when I get home, fill the sink with water and throw cups of it onto myself to get clean, cold of course! Just kidding, I don't think they have enough hot water in Boonton to satisfy the shower I'm going to take!

Peace Out

Shock Value

July 22, 2008 7:15pm

 

Who you are

One nation under a thug and bullet sky

Young nation no revolution and no cars

Young nation young black and dangerous by far

Young nation just trying to get this

Before I left for Uganda I created a play list on my I-pod that was 7 hours long to last me through the plane rides I had to take. I picked songs I love, new songs I had bought, and some songs that I had but had never listened to before. Interestingly enough, one of the songs was from a mixed tape I had, a song by 2pac that was mixed with some of his lyrics after his passing. The lyrics above are the hook to the song, and they hit kind of close to home after being here for 5 weeks. I’m not really going to get into it, I think it’s self-explanatory, and everyone here may not agree with me, but everything is comparable to your own perspective.

Yesterday right before lunch Casey and I were sitting in the staff room with two other teachers, a female geography teacher and a male student teacher from Gulu University. It was fairly quiet, Casey was listening to her I-pod and writing in her journal, I was reading my book, and the other teachers were doing work. I was sitting by the door of the staff room at the end of the table, Casey was in the middle and th other Ugandan teachers were at the far end of the room. In a matter of seconds the air in the room went from a calm reticence to brutal violence as the one teacher I can’t stand, stormed into the room holding a S2 student by the collar, and threw him onto the ground. “Lay on the floor, he screamed, lay on your face!” This was a student who I had just finished teaching in a classroom that was jovial and happy. We played a jeopardy game and joked around, I even did a curtsey to applause as I walked out of the room. It was one of those teaching moments that warms your heart, the exact opposite of what I was about to witness. From what I could understand from the conversation that was half in Lwo and half in English, the teacher, Mr. LaBongo, was furious because he walked into the classroom after I had walked out, and there was a funny picture drawn on the chalkboard in the back. It was a picture that was up the whole time I was teaching, of nothing important, a silly cartoon that was in no way vulgar or consisting of any obscenities. It was probably the result of a semi-artistic student and a boy who stayed 7 hours a day in the same room, artistic boredom perhaps.

As I was digesting the fact that this teacher was hazing this student like a frat pledge, the student was trying to explain to the teacher that he didn’t draw the picture; it was another student in class, Okello. LaBongo then screamed at the student to stay where he was, and stomped out of the room to get the other “offender”. The boy was literally a foot away from where I was sitting, and to make the situation that much more unbearable, he looked up at me with scared eyes, said “Madame?” and handed me the composition books from the class for me to grade. As my heart was breaking from the combination of his innocence mixed with the violence that still hung in the air, I decided to try and talk him through it. Not the smartest idea, I know, but I couldn’t ignore him, I just couldn’t sit there and pretend like nothing was happening. I asked him what had happened, tried to get him to sit up a little bit and talk to me, but directly after I saw the shadow of LaBongo in the window of the staffroom and whispered, “get back down, get back down!”  The second student was thrown down next to the first, and after a minute of listening to their panicked explanations, LaBongo reached by the wall of the staffroom and picked up a large, thin stick. He beat the students three or four times each, on their backs and on their hands that they held up to protect themselves. Every human being has specific times in their life when they have an internal emotional battle, and I definitely did. I wrestled with the idea of walking out of the room in protest, or staying and documenting everything I could to tell the Invisible Children staff. It was right next to me, and in the end I stood up because I couldn’t take it, but instead of walking out of the room, past Labongo, I walked to the back. I pretended like I was carrying books from one end of the room to the other, but I’m sure it was obvious that I didn’t know what to do. The female teacher caught me eye and said, “The students are used to this.” I looked her dead in the eyes, strongly said, “I’m not,” and she looked away.  Labongo let the students go shortly after that and I went back to my seat, confused and reeling from what had just happened.

However, as if that wasn’t enough, as if Labongo was on a roll or hell bent on showing the American teachers what he was capable of, he then grabbed two female students and brought them into the room. By brought I mean he took one of the girls by the arm and threw her into the room so she stumbled and almost fell, the other followed them in. From what I could gather from the “conversation”, Labongo was furious that one of the girls was wearing a yellow scarf, which was not part of the school uniform. When he asked her for the scarf she originally said no (I wonder why), but eventually gave it to him, which is when he grabbed her and tossed her in the room. She was definitely strong willed, and tried explaining to him that she had arrived at school at 6am when it was cold outside, and she had the scarf to keep her warm. I think by that point his anger was boiling to a rage, and he made both girls kneel on the floor of the staffroom. Thankfully more teacher were in the room by that time, and were talking to the girls as mediators, but the way he grabbed the girl and threw her was almost harder for me to watch than the caning.

What was even more shocking to me than what I had witnessed was the care free attitude of the other teachers while this was happening. It just seemed as if they didn’t care, the one female teacher, Doreen, was actually smiling while Casey and I had looks of horror on our faces. Afterwards, when all of the students were gone, Casey’s teacher Dennis looked at me and almost laughing said, “Allison, you looked scared,” to which I said, “Scared isn’t what I’m feeling right now,” with Labongo sitting right next to me. Yes, it was a lie, but because I couldn’t say anything to him directly; my unconscious was demanding that I make my opinion know in any way I could.

Caning became illegal in Uganda last year or two years ago, with some teachers still feeling as if that is the only effective way of disciplining a child. Even though it is illegal it is still practiced, and rarely stopped by authorities. However, St. Mary’s College, where I work, is partly funded by Invisible children, who do not condone acts of violence such as caning. I thought that when I told Amy she would agree that something should be said, but after we left, as I’m afraid Labongo might confront me on the issue. Amy is going to address it to Sister tomorrow though, because she wants to do it personally, and is traveling back to JFK with the rest of us. We’ll see how that works out.

When I got home I told Sarah what happened, and we both decided that we needed to go to town and treat ourselves. We went to the Internet, where we met up with Casey, and then the three of us went to Mac café for a while and just sat and talked. Although I’ve been homesick at times, now more than ever I’m excited to be going home. I’ve had so many wonderful experiences here, but I think 5 or 6 weeks away from home is long for anyone. Even if I was on a beautiful tropical island I think I’d be ready.

Rhino's and stuff

Sunday, July 20th 2008 7:10pm into Monday afternoon

Wow, long weekend. Not long in the sense of time passing slowly, but long meaning I have to motivate myself to sit here on the couch at Christ the King and try to remember everything that happened this weekend. When I get behind on a day or two of journaling it almost loses its luster and becomes a chore. What I want to do right now is sleep. I want to lie down, right here on this couch, kick my muddy crocs off, rub my muddy ankles all over the cushions until I get comfortable, and pass out. It was a really wet weekend.

Friday morning started out as a mystery. Alice and I were supposed to teach class at 9:50, but since I couldn’t get in touch with her on Thursday, I wasn’t sure what time she was going to pick me up. I text her in the morning, thinking we would go to school around nine, but I got ready early just in case. Needless to say, after texting and calling her, I didn’t hear from her at all, nothing. I have to admit, I kind of felt like that one time I got stood up on a date, just standing there, ready to go, forever. I kept calling Matt who was already at school, and Alice never showed up there either. To be honest I’m starting to get very worried about her. Her ex-husband is a lunatic, and things have been getting more and more intense with him lately, which makes me worried that he may have tried to do something to her. At that moment though, Friday morning, instead of repeated phone calls to Alice, I decided to go into town with the girls who were home instead. Bri, Jo, Wendy and I went into town and split up at first, with Wendy and I going to Ma’s for the Internet and Bri and Jo going to the supermarket and then another Internet café. I was able to check some e-mail and look at the news, which was great, because I’m not too caught up on what’s going on with Obama and the election, and I wanted to do some more research on the situation in Darfur.

Friday night the IC group came over to Christ the King for a change and we discussed our last article that we had to read. It’s so interesting hearing everyone’s thoughts on the research that we have been doing. I feel like I’m truly blessed to be in such an intellectual group, and listening to their different perspectives is really opening my eyes to new things. Last week I went to dinner at Wendy’s teacher’s house, and the conversation I had about faith there with Ashleigh and Matt was really eye opening. They were so wonderful about answering all of the questions that I had, and after speaking with them I kind of discovered that I have more belief (in what I don’t know) than I thought I did. I am so thankful for the people I have been placed with, and especially how loving they are.

After the article discussion we played a mean game of flip cup with Bell Beer and Nile Special’s, right at Christ the King! It was the Christ the King residents versus the IC house kids, and I think overall it was a tie. It was so nice to kick back and be irresponsible for a few hours!

Saturday morning we arrived at the IC house at 9am while the Schools-4-School’s winners were leaving. I stole a Chipati Burrito from the kitchen (their food is SO much better than ours) and we got in the car for the three hour ride to the Rhino Sanctuary. A few of us in the back had a 2,000 shilling pool to see who could guess the closest to what time we would get there and even though I factored in Ugandan time, I as so off. Jen guessed an hour and a half later than we thought and she totally won. Not everyone in the Mutatu was keen on us “gambling”, but I’m also not too keen on looking down upon a little fun. A self-righteous attitude is enough to make me a little annoyed. For the record, that pool made the car ride much more fun!

The Rhino Sanctuary was operated by a woman who seemed to be from the Netherlands (and not too friendly), but the meal we had when we arrived was amazing! It was kind of like a Sheppherd’s Pie, with CHEESE on top, enough to make me drool a little bit the whole time I as eating it. We ate lunch in a huge downpour though, so we had to wait a while before we actually could go searching for Rhino’s in the bush.

The mutatus drove us in when it wasn’t pouring too much, and after a short trip we came upon 5 Rhino’s in the middle of nowhere. They were bred in captivity and flown from Florida to Uganda to live on 7,000 square kilometers of protected space. Imagine being at the zoo with no fence, 20 feet away from 5 of the biggest animals you have ever seen in real life. At one point I was so close to a Rhino that I was frozen, not really sure what to do, but completely fascinated, until the tracking official was able to shoo it away from me. I got some incredible pictures, and Kyle made a ridiculous video that made me laugh so hard I wanted to pee myself, which to be honest wouldn’t have grossed me out after the past 5 weeks here!

Kyle, Sarah and I shared a room, and that night I had one of the most open conversations of my life. I listened to both of their life stories, and they wanted to know about mine. That’s one thing about this group of people, especially Kyle and Sarah, for every story they tell they want to know something about me. It’s different and nice to be given such a liberating forum to open up so much about myself, and therapeutic I think at the same time. I spoke to them at length about my mom and my family and how many emotional issues I have because of it. My inability to become attached or too emotional about things, how much commitment freaks me out, and how scared I am that I won’t be able to get past those things. Sometimes I truly believe that my mom’s broken heart is what caused most of her pain, and I just refuse to go through that myself, at least not now. I hope, however, that being open about these issues now will help me overcome them. I’ve kept so much inside for so long that I may be ready to address some of those things when I get back. In the conversation about faith that I had with Ashleigh and Matt they spoke to me about the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. I have forgiven many things that happened during my mom’s illness, but I haven’t reconciled any of them. I think one day soon I’ll be able to do that, and right now I’m proud of myself for being able to recognize it.

I picked up another book on the way to that trip, and so far I am on my third. I have progressively moved my way from light reading to a Vietnam War veteran’s book of historical fiction, and if I can finish that before I leave I’ll feel so accomplished. I started with Bringing Down the House, a book about the MIT card counting team that was a quick read but incredibly entertaining. I moved from that to Diary by Chuck Palahniuk, which is an author that I love but it was not my favorite work by him (nothing beats Choke). Right now I am reading The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien, which actually made me shed a tear today in the staff room of St. Mary’s.

I also witnessed one of the most brutal acts of violence that I have seen since I have been here, today in that staffroom, but I haven’t fully digested it yet, or dealt with it. 

I’m off tomorrow, I’ll write more then..


Fabien’s B-day July 25th!

Catching Up

I haven't been keeping up with the blog at all this week. Tuesday I tried coming to the internet to post, but the internet was down at Ma Computers and I haven't been able to come back until today. (By the way it's Thursday, July 17th at 10:49am)

Tuesday morning I woke up and graded 80 midterms for one class in one sitting, more than I've ever been able to focus on before. Up until this trip I was not only a huge procrastinator, but I could never do anything in one sitting, I would always have to come back to my work. When I go home I'm sure the procrastination will continue, but I've been proud of myself for being able to push through my work here and get it done. I spent about 2 hours grading papers and listening to my ipod, and if slamming my head through a wooden table would have been possible after I was finished I think I would have, almost every student failed. I didn't make the test, and I have to admit I don't think the test was the best it could have been at all. For example, the students were asked to put the correct tense of a verb in a given sentence, past simple, past perfect or past continuous, but the sentences were so silly. In the states we learn that students work should be directly related to their lives as possible so they can easily make a connection. The sentences the student were asked to answer on this test were so unrelated to their lives. Some of the sentences were even American proverbs that I myself hadn't heard in ages.  There were 27 questions on the test, and the average grade was 11 out of 27, which would have been failing at home. However, according to the grading system here, 15 would have been a good passing grade. I still don't really get it. Is it lowered standards or something else that I don't know?

I had an appointment at 2pm that day to meet with an Invisible Children mentor so I could shadow her for a day and watch what she does. Her name is Marilyn, and she took me to one of the IDP camps in Gulu municipality. What's ironic is that even though the people are displaced and living in huts, they're not considered displaced people because they're still in the municipality. Marilyn is responsible for checking up on the parents of scholarship recipients through the program, making sure they're being supported at home and doing well in school. At the first hut we walked up to, there was a wooden box of a room in front of it where about 20 local women were sitting on the ground having a meeting. When we went behind to meet with the first mother, she explained to us that the meeting was about finances for local school kids. Since the insurgency many women have been left alone, so they created a support system that was almost like a savings bank so they could put aside money for their kid's educations. Paying for everything at once is often impossible, so the "bank" they created for each other lets them put their money away slowly to provide opportunities for their kids. I was so impressed by this, at the willingness and independence of the women to come together to support each other. In Uganda, women's rights are a touchy subject. Alice was explaining to me that women work in their homes up until the minute they give birth and directly after. Most men will not cook or clean for themselves, and have no sympathy for a woman who is 9 months pregnant. She said some men were understanding, but it was rare, it's just the way things are here.

The second hut we went to was harder for me to handle. The child is at boarding school so we spoke to her grandmother. Her father and 2 uncles were murdered either in the war or in Gulu, so her grandmother is forced to raise the children that were left behind. Her mother has AIDS and is too weak to move, but it was heartbreaking watching the grandmother take care of 3 children under the age of 3, she just has no choice. She was also worried about Kevin, her granddaughter at school because at Gulu SS there have been serious problems in the dorms where girls are being raped by local boys. There isn't security and the buildings are flimsy, so the girls are subjected to horrible nights where they have to fight off  sexual violence.

The positive message in all of this is that despite the hardships, both girls are doing well in school. The one little girl is 11 years old and she's a freshman in high school, proof that a human being can overcome anything.

Wednesday at school I was observed by Amy, and I think the first two lessons we did were amazing. We did ABC races with the kids and jeopardy games, had class discussions and assessed the kids using the thumbs up method. Amy observed a particularly successful class, so I was glad that she was able to see how well me and Alice work together. However, like I'm learning more and more, for every glorious experience there can be a horrible one, and my Senior class at the end of the day proved that. We have been having a hard time with senior attendance, and apathy runs deep in that classroom. They don't see a value in education if they're not going to college, especially with English. I did start off the day with a false sense of hope though because Matt told me he had a full class for Geography in the morning. When it came time for English though, there were only 6 in the room. It's not even like the kids totally skipped either, most of them were in the courtyard, lounging in the sun because they just don't care. I took it so personally at first, and although it took me a good 24 hours, I have finally accepted it. There's definitely more to the story, too, but at this point I'm just done talking about it.

I had some joy last night though. Wendy took a lot of us over to her teachers house to eat dinner and his wife is a caterer. I had the best dinner of the trip there, and we ate avocados, chipati, bananas, pineapple, beef and veggie samosas, potatoes and mandazi. She even squeezed fresh fruit juice for us, it was awesome.

I was supposed to teach four classes today, and was looking forward at my last chance to motivate my seniors. Unfortunately though, after I waited outside for Alice for about a half hour she called and said Sister sent her to a conference this morning instead, and covered her classes with student teachers. Instead of going with Alice to school then, I hopped on a boda in the compound and made my way into town, and that's where I'm at now. I think I'm going to try and upload some pictures and then make my way over to Mac foods to get some lunch. Maybe I'll even splurge and buy some nutella, my Ugandan crack. Nothing is better than Chipati with nutella and sliced bananas, delicious.

I Have Faith

July 15^th 12am

 “I have faith. Faith in our wondrous capacity for hope and good, love and trust, healing and forgiveness. Faith in the blessing of our infinite ability to wonder, question, pray, feel, think and learn. I have faith. Faith in the infinite possibilities of the human spirit!”

~James Brown-Starbucks cup

Emmy award winning sports caster of the NFL

 Since middle school I have been looking for religion, or for faith for that matter. I was the most confused child, raised with an atheist as a father and my mother, who defies all explanation or labels. The only sleep away camp I ever attended was a Baptist camp, where at the end of that week I was picked up by my parents hysterically crying because a counselor had told me that no matter what, Jesus was the only human available to heaven, and that I would never make it. If you were born with original sin, as was every human, you could never make it to God’s holy cafeteria, or heaven as it was called. I then attended Catholic school from 7^th grade to my senior year of high school, where every question I had about religion was disputed or not answered. Apparently blind faith is something you have to be born with, and skepticism just draws bad attention towards you. This made me so confused as a kid. I went through a stage where I wanted to enter the convent because I thought it as my only chance at blind faith, at redemption. From that point on I was skeptical, and asked as many questions as I could to understand religion, but was shot down every time I tried to make sense of the religion classes I was put through in catholic school. Eventually, after being told “no” so many times, and after being told that hell was inevitable, I just let go. I think after I heard that I was going to hell because my mom was a catholic and my dad was an atheist, I just let go, and actually started to enjoy my life as a heathen. What’s a kid to do with no faith in Christ? Nothing, actually, except to just let go and say, “screw it: Since then I have been missing a large portion of my life in terms of religion but I have learned to handle it. It was not until this trip that I met people so loving, so open to religion that it made me a bit jealous. I have long been past the point of belief in a higher power, at my point in my life I have just let go, but it’s nice to see people my age that have embraced religion and still have faith. I am completely non-judgmental, probably because of how open my mother was to all walks of life, and I feel that it is silly to think that someone will judge me when I reach the end of my days. I feel like I embrace many aspects of the Christian lifestyle, like helping others, and trying to reach the best of my potential, but I lack any sort of judgment. For example, in Uganda, it is completely illegal to be homosexual, if you are caught in a homosexual act you will be given a life term of imprisonment. To me, this is ridiculous. This doesn’t affect my life, and I know many homosexual people, especially after this trip, that would be amazing with a family. I think it’s pretty self-righteous to believe that any of us can judge anyone else; I have even spoken about it in this blog. As far as humanitarian work is concerned, how selfless can you be if you are doing work for a higher power? Isn’t the end result a ticket into “heaven?” I think it is very obvious that I am confused about my faith but I believe that more than anything, I am positive that I do not believe in a “higher” power, because I do not think anything in the universe should be considered higher or lower than anything else. I don’t think that a cricket in the grass should be considered higher than the president of Uganda, or the United States for that matter. When I saw the quote about faith on the wall of the IC house it hit me like a ton of bricks because finally I had found something, if not an organized religion, but a quote on a wall that illustrated how I felt about faith. I may no longer have faith in a higher power, or a “heaven”, but I do have faith in the capacity of human beings to make miracles happen, and to change the world. Baby steps, and we can do it. 

 OK, I am going to try and remember details from this past weekend and today, because I’ve wanted to blog and remember every memory, but have been so busy and caught up in the moment that it has been impossible to get to my computer. I am sitting here, listening to “August in Bethany” by the Juliana Theory on my Ipod, kind of missing the States, trying to recount every detail of my amazing weekend.

 Lets start with Saturday. In the morning we had to be at the IC house at 9am to discuss Pedagogy of the Oppressed with the entire group and Amy and Catherine. I have to admit; I only read 3 of the four chapters because after reading Econimic Hitman, it was pretty dull in comparison. Amy put 4 sheets of paper on four tables and put a quote on each, and had us walk around and read each quote while writing our thoughts down about what we thought each quote meant and how it was relative to our trip thus far. The quotes brought about a really good discussion about the lack of dialogue between Ugandan teachers and their students, and how important communication is between teachers, their students and their communities.

 After the talk, many of us walked into town to find food, and I personally spear headed an expedition to find a restaurant called the “Pork Joint” that is a cult classic among male IC employees in Uganda. You know me, if it’s unhealthy and a cult classic, I’m down for it. Unfortunately, it took me a little while to find the place, as my keen sense of direction isn’t so keen in Uganda, so by the time I found it only Josh, Phil, Sarah and I were left in the expedition. I’m glad they stuck through it with me though, because I DID find it, and for 2,000 shillings each of us got a plate of amazing char grilled pork, cassava, cabbage and tomatoes. It was definitely the best 2,000 shillings I have spent since I’ve been here. Afterwards, Sarah and I headed to the market to buy food supplies for the American Picnic we had on Sunday, and bought what we needed for the Guacamole we were going to make. I have to admit, I felt super comfortable making guac with Sarah, as she lives 15 minutes from Mexico in San Diego, so I was pretty confident that it would turn out great, and it did.

 At 1pm we all met back at the IC house, loaded up 2 Mutatus and headed over to Fort Patiko for a day of exploring and adventure. Fort Patiko is an area that was dominated by the Arabs during the slave trade of the 1850’s. They set up camp there and would use Ugandans to help them transport ivory to European and Arab countries, and I have to say that this was the first tour I ever took that was not “sugarcoated” at all. We were shown where slaves were housed in jail cells made of rocks, where they were beheaded and where they were shot by firing squad. We even saw blood stains on the rocks where the Arabs would behead them and smash their heads into the rocks with their heels. It was completely surreal, definitely not your standard, “Battleship NJ” tour.

After the tour we went on a hike to the top of a mountain behind the fort, and it was such an experience to climb 3,000 feet and just look out onto the top of the world. If I looked directly out I could see the border of Sudan and to my left the border of the Congo. I thanked God every step that I had bought those expensive hiking shoes from Northface, and that I had my jeans on. However, it put it all into perspective when some local village boys followed us to the top of the mountain with just shorts and no shoes on. They really put us to shame. At one point, I stopped following the tour guide and just followed the boys because not only could they climb to the top of the mountain with no shoes on, they knew a better way that was easier anyway.

 Above everyting else, the best part of the trip for me was how close I became with Kyle and Sarah, we had such a great time together. When we got back from the hike Amy had a great BBQ prepared for us with tons of beer and BBQ’d vegetables, and I thoroughly enjoyed some Chipati, grilled eggplant and pineapple. Sarah and I took our Nile Special’s back up to the top of the rocks to watch the sunset while Kyle watched a soccer game that the locals were having at the Fort. We took pictures of each other climbing the rocks with our bottles of beer and just had a great time getting to know each other better. I really love her so much, and haven’t felt so comfortable with someone since I have been here. It took us a few days to figure out that neither of us has any judgment in our hearts, and once we let that go we just bonded. She is an amazing woman and I love her to death. Kind of figures that the two special ed teachers would bond so well on this trip.

 On the way home I did something that I haven’t done in a very long time, or not comfortably at least. I put my ipod on, listened to some music and just thought about my mother. Thank god it was dark, and I could get away with it without drawing any attention to myself, but I just sat in the back of that Mutatu, listened to Muse and Brandi Carlisle, and just let the tears pour. I miss my mom so much sometimes it kills me, and I know how much she would have loved to see what I am witnessing everyday. I may not believe in a heaven, but I believe that everything I see for the rest of my life can be a tribute to her and her spirit. It’s not often that I can let go like that and just feel pure emotion, I usually stop myself, but in the back of that Mutatu I just let go.

 On Sunday we had an American Picnic at the IC house for us and our teachers. Sarah and I arrived at the house around 12, and already everyone was in the kitchen cooking and contributing their own recipes from home. Aaron made amazing enchiladas with Top Up, the best spicy sauce ever (don’t worry Kristen, I’m totally bringing some home)! Jo made homemade apple pie, and we had Nile Specials and Bell beers galore. Alice didn’t come until 2:30, so she missed much of the American food, but Kyle, Casey and I went to her house that morning for breakfast so we had already seen her. The picnic went really well, and I was surprised that most of the Ugandan teachers enjoyed the American food, which is usually not the case. Nancy and the girls from Christ the King (our home) came by and the girls DOMINATED at volleyball, I was so proud of them. I myself prefer some Frisbee if I am going to play sports at all, but Alice and I were content to just watch.

 The American students who won the Schools-for Schools competition were arriving that day at 4, so the kids from Heals came and danced for them (and all of us), and we were able to meet and talk to them. I met the girl whose school raised money for St. Mary’s Lacor where I work, and she is from a small school in Tennessee. Tonight (Monday) we went to a dinner for the high school kids at the Acholi Inn.

 Well, now it is insanely late and I have been typing so much everyone has already gone to bed. I think I’ll try and get to the Internet early and post this but maybe not, we’ll see. I have 2 weeks left in Gulu and every day I say that I can’t believe how fast this trip is going. Before I know it I’ll be standing on a platform over the Nile ready to bungee jump into it.

Goodnight, and remember, faith isn’t what is given to you; it’s what you make it.

getting to the internet is hard...

July 11^th 2008 8:21pm

 God, today was so jam packed with different things I don’t know where to start, and I’m sure I’ll forget most of the details. Just to preface this post, I decided to celebrate the fact that it was Friday night with some alcohol, but since I’m in Northern Uganda and pretty limited, I’m sitting in an easy chair with beams going up my butt and not at a swanky bar. I’ve also rigged my cocktail, and have mixed Blue Wave water, Shmirnoff vodka and a Crystal Light packet. Hey, whatever works right? Don’t worry, it was just a little vodka J

 Ok, so yesterday I met up with Kyle at Ma computers and we went on a hunt for Fantas and Chipati on the way home. Fantas we found pretty easily but we didn’t have as much luck with the Chipati. On my way out of one of the stores I tripped over my own crocs and fell into a heap on the dirt, rolling my ankle and collapsing into a pile. Kyle was a sweetheart and took my backpack for me, and I limped the rest of the way to Kope Café for another Chipati rejection. (Chipati is basically like Pita/ Tortilla bread, and delicious) Trying to sleep last night was so hard because my ankle was screaming pain at me and it felt like it was on fire, but the up side was that it felt better this morning.

 I was a little lazy and the last person up this morning, I rolled out of bed around 8 and sat and talked with Kyle, Sarah and Ashleigh until around 10 before I decided to motivate and get ready for the day. I’m on my 2^nd day without a shower, maybe I’ll take one tomorrow, or when I start to smell myself, but I’ve become very comfortable in my own filth, I’ve embraced it. When I get home I think I’ll be so used to bug spray that I’ll spray it on like perfume before dates. I can just imagine the conversation it would spark: “What, you mean you don’t think Deet it sexy? It’s 100% baby!”

 So I went to the front of the compound this morning and waited for a boda, because Alice wasn’t traveling to school today. I got really lucky, and the boda driver that took me out there, Robert, was really nice. He was the third boda driver to thank me for teaching here, and gave me his cellphone number so I could call him for a ride back. It’s really easy to grab a boda on the way to St. Mary’s College, but once out there it’s not that easy. Matt walked about a mile back in the sun yesterday before he was able to find a boda to take him the rest of the way, so I was stoked that Robert provided me with a security net for transportation.

 I got to St. Mary’s around 10:30 and Matt was in the staffroom. I thought I was going to walk over to the Primary school alone to watch another P1 class, but Matt said he knew Eric, one of the professors was holding a music class, so we walked over to that first. All of the students were outside surrounding the teachers who had awesome homemade instruments made out of bent steel, wood, cowhide and other things. There were tons of flutes like the lost boys had in peter pan, too. In about 2 minutes we were surrounded, we kind of stood out being the only munus there, and for a few minutes I felt like I was in the middle of a mosh pit. The kids were pushing over each other trying to get a glimpse of us, or to touch our arms and shake our hands, it was nuts. Matt took a video of the chaos. It got so crazy that the teacher asked us to walk over to a classroom where they were holding a choir session, and was very open about us filming. He got really into it and introduced the group, and then proceeded to lead 60 of the most beautiful voices I had ever heard. In New Jersey, if I’m driving in a car and I hear a song on the radio that moves me to tears it’s usually followed by three days of cramps and a bad mood. Today I was literally moved to tears by the beautiful feeling behind these kids voices. I was choking back tears as they sang and played instruments, and had another one of those “I can’t believe I’m here” moments.

 We left the choir class when they were done going through their songs, and I ran into the headmaster, Omana Angelese. He asked me if I wanted to observe the older primary students or the younger, and if you know me at all you know whom I picked. I chose to see the mini peanuts again of course. This time I’m pretty sure I was observing a P2 class, and it was so interesting I took 4 pages of notes, it was much different than the P1 class in terms of instruction, not curriculum.

 The teacher was male, for starters, and he had a huge smile on his face the whole 3 hours that he taught. Even if he changed every single teaching strategy because I was there, which I don’t think he did, you can’t fake a smile that shows you love teaching, it shone through his eyes. The best way I could describe the class was “functional chaos.” Again, there were about 90 students so he couldn’t keep his eye on all of them, and they defiitley knew when to misbehave and when not to. Every time he turned his back to the board I cringed because I knew someone was going to get their ass beat. There was a little girl chowing down on a huge stick of sugar cane in the back, two little boys kicking the crap out of each other to my right, and 3 students walking around the room with sticks beating kids almost indiscriminately. Matt had described the kids with sticks as “teachers helpers” almost, but today I couldn’t tell who was an authority and who snuck a stick in the room just to beat kids for fun. There definitely isn’t room for the meek at this school. I thought today of the first grader in the states who was expelled for giving a little girl a kiss on the playground, and remembered again how far from home I was. Two little boys were fighting so much it escalated to the point where they weren’t hiding it at all, and when the teacher walked over I expected him to cane them, to be honest with you, but instead he said a few words and walked away. Now, I’m not condoning caning at all, but he didn’t even separate the kids and one of them was badly scratched. It definitely shook me.

 Enough about the negative though, because asie from the violence, there was a lot of good in that room. The students were learning the letter “G” in handwriting, and were also learning the names of family members in Lwo. As far as a special ed perspective was concerned the teacher did a great job. He walked around the room with picture pompts, never stayed in the front, and seemed to know all of the kids names, which is quite an accomplishment. His enthusiasm was pretty infectious and he incorporated a lot of singing into the lesson. The kids would sing and follow along with body movements, and they had a clapping signal worked out to congratulate each other for participating at the chalk board. I was able to take video at the end of class and speak to the kids in the few words of Lwo that I know.

 During those last moments I saw a flash to my left and saw another Munu standing in the doorway and my claws immediately came out. You have to understand, this woman was standing there in total tourist garb, with a camera around her neck and a fanny pack around her waist, and it seemed as if she just wanted some pictures to take home and send to relatives for Christmas or something. I recognized her from Kope Café the other day. I was only mad for a second though, because who vacations in Northern Uganda, and I had an opportunity to speak with her on my way out. She is  professor from the University of Minnesota doing research for their child psychology department, which I think is pretty awesome. Many people I notice here are for mission trips or religious reasons, and it was cool to see her doing something different. I’ve been struggling with some of these religious undertones that I have come across, and how selfless a mission trip can really be. I mean, it’s great that they’re here and making a difference, but I find the self righteous attitude a put off. How selfless can you be if the end result in your mind is a ticket to “heaven?” Isn’t that kind of selfish? I don’t know, I’m in no way putting it down, but it’s definitely something I’m confused about.

 Robert came and picked me up after that, and took me to Kope Café where Kyle, Sarah, Amy and Catherine were having lunch. They were almost done so I thought I would have lunch alone, especially because it takes about an hour for food to come there, but they ended up staying and we had a great conversation. I had a delicious steak sandwich that was almost like a club sandwich, except it was made with steak, vinaigrette, avocado, tomatoes and onions. I love the food there, although tomorrow Phil and I are going to branch out and eat at The Pork Joint.

 Kyle, Sarah and I ran into Ashleigh and Phil on the way out, and decided we would meet them at KSP bar to have a few beers before we had to head to the Invisible Children house to discuss one of our journal articles. On the way there we passed some girls that I think are nurses from Ireland, and watched as the boda boda drivers were laughing at one of the girls. I guess she didn’t get the memo, but showing your thighs here is NOT cool, and she had a short skirt on. Norman, one of the leaders of Heals and star of the movie War Dance, gave us a talk when we first arrived here in Gulu about how women who dressed inappropriately deserve to be raped, so I’m sure the boda drivers had more on their minds than a few laughs. The perspective over here is so foreign at times.

 Sitting on the roof of KSP was amazing. If I could only go to rooftop bars for the rest of my life you would never hear a complaint out of me. We had Nile Specials and ate Naan and had really good conversations. One thing that I love about our conversations here is that it allows us to get to know each other so well. We all went around and said the three most important things in our lives and my first answer was simple, my Adrien, hands down. Age I would do anything for you in a heartbeat, I love you more than I love myself, I really want you to know that. We also talked about a turning point we had in our lives, mine obviously being when reality changed for me when my mom “got sick.”

 I think I’m going to cut this blog here as it’s getting pretty long and I’m sure pretty boring. I’m going to Fort Patiko tomorrow..

 

Glorious Day!

July 10th 5:35pm

The conference we held went great! The teachers were so into it, and we were able to demonstrate some awesome strategies to get the kids out of their seats and motivated! I feel like for every frustrating moment here, I have a glorious one to make it better. Today was my last day of school until Monday, and since I have tomorrow off I'm going to take a boda to go visit the little peanuts in the primary school at Lacor, and I'm going to stop by the hospital to see if I can schedule a tour. Nothing like a hospital in Northern Uganda to give you the reality check you may need.

My schedule for the weekend looks like this...

I'm going to make tomorrow as productive as possible, with a trip to the Primary School, Lacor Hospital and a group reading to discuss out Shiza journal article that we read. Saturday I'm meeting at the IC House for a book discussion at 9am, and at 1pm we head over to Ft. Patiko, the settling place of Sir Samuel Baker. Sunday we have the "American Picnic" for us and our teachers and their families, and we're even going to set up a slip-n-slide for the kids! I'm going to make guacamole and some of us are going to try and make sausage dogs, I'm so pumped!

Next week starts my last 2 weeks of teaching in Gulu :) I can't say it enough, time FLY's here! I can already taste the cheesedogs that I know my Aunts are going to make for me!

Thank you so much everyone for your comments, love and support, I miss you all so much!

scared at night sometimes

July 9^th 2008

 The electricity is off in the house tonight. All of us are sitting around some candles, passing around ipods to watch some videos and discussing what would happen if Joseph Kony was caught and killed. Would the LRA collapse or would someone else just step up into power? I read in the Monitor today that Kony’s chief negotiator in the peace talks for the LRA wrote a confidential letter to President Museveni saying that the only way Kony could be stopped is if he were killed. Since that has been published I wonder how long that man’s life will last. The longer I stay here in Gulu the harder I struggle with these issues. Living here for 6 weeks has really allowed me to take a strong look at my personality and re-evaluate what is important to me, what I value. I want to go home and make a difference; I can’t let this journey stop here. Maybe I can set up a School-4-School’s club in Wayne Hills High School. It’s one of the highest paid and funded school districts in New Jersey, I get sick thinking of how many school tuitions that could be paid with such little effort.

 Today in class I implemented one of the participatory strategies that I learned in the conference, ABC Runoff. I had heard of the activity a few nights before the conference actually, from a girl from group one who’s from Sparta. The game is perfect for classrooms with large numbers of students. I put the alphabet on the board in 2 different places. The students then had to fill in the alphabet with words that coincided with the theme that we are studying, mass media. To guarantee participation I let the teams help each other, encouraged communication and told them that they had to write one word for every letter, even if the word didn’t apply to what the theme was. When you get to X, Y and Z it’s pretty difficult, so I had words like yellow and x-mass by the end. The kids did remarkably well though, and I could feel the energy in the room. Unfortunately right after that Alice really wanted the students to read two passages from the book and answer questions. I would never question her in front of the kids, and I’m having a hard time questioning her at all since she has been very open towards me compared to some of the other teachers here, but the kids were bored to tears. I guess this whole experience is about give and take, but it was still hard to sit through. As a special ed teacher, sitting on my ass in a classroom watching kids share one textbook between four people is so hard.

 July 10^th 2008

 The water and the electricity are off in the compound. Trying to get ready in the morning is pretty difficult when you can’t really see and you are halfway through washing your face when the water decides to dry up. Thankfully I have wipes galore so I was able to manage.

 Today I’m not teaching class, but Alice is picking me up at 12 so we can plan for next week and get a head start. Casey, Matt and I are holding the professional development conference today at 2:30, which is giving me some anxiety this morning. Even traveling over an ocean can’t subside my stress when it comes to work. I may be laid back about most things, but when it comes to performing in my career I get obsessive about preparing. It’s 9:30 now, and I already have a tightening in my chest about the meeting at 2:30.

 Since I’ve been here I’ve been kind of insecure about the fact that I don’t play sports. I know it sounds ridiculous, but when it comes to team, competitive sports I just suck. I’m not competitive athletically, and if a game gets too intense I’m so quick to think, “ugh, is this really that important?” So for the past couple of days I’ve felt like the last kid picked at gym class because I suck at basketball, “football” isn’t my thing, and because of a horrible gym class experience, volleyball scares the crap out of me.

 Fortunately for me though, my dad and I are really into Frisbee, and when I go down to south jersey we usually throw one around. I need to thank my Papa so much because yesterday, I totally got my athletic moment. I bought a super Frisbee at REI before I left and I took it out for the first time yesterday. Jo and I brought it out onto the courtyard of the compound and started throwing it around, and after about a half hour we had some of the primary students playing with us along with some of the local teachers. I had SUCH a fun time, and it was exhilarating being able to run around, jump to catch the Frisbee and just get some serious exercise. Matt was like “somebody’s been practicing in Jersey” and it made me feel good, and less like a sports leper. It was also really awesome to watch the kids get used to Frisbee because most of them had never seen one before. After they got the hang of it they were throwing it so far I was really impressed, and when the Frisbee got stuck in trees they climbed those things like they were professionals.

 This weekend Amy and Catherine will be back from sending off group one, so we’re going to have a pretty busy schedule. On Friday night we’re meeting at the IC house to discuss one of our journal articles concerning colonization, and Saturday we have a meeting in the morning to discuss Pedagogy of the Oppressed. I have to admit, reading Pedagogy at home was like shoving tiny knives into my eye sockets, but I heard from some of my friends that if I read it here it would make much more sense, and be easier to put into context.  Saturday afternoon we’re going to visit Fort Patiko, which is really exciting. On my way to school in the mornings on Alice’s boda I always look out to the right and wonder what’s out there. It’s a beautiful savannah landscape with mountains in the distance. Yesterday, as if she read my mind, Alice pointed to the mountains and told me that was where Fort Patiko was. Apparently the locals think it’s very beautiful, which gets me even more excited.

 I’m going to try and get to the Internet café today after school so I can post this and answer some e-mails but we’ll see. The skies are looking formidable which means rain is probably around the corner.

 

 

its hard sometimes

July 8th 10:40am

Yesterday morning I got a chance to experience what a primary school is like in Gulu, and I think it's safe to ay that I'll never look at elementary school's the same way again. I also know for a fact that when I hear my little Pine's Lake peanuts complain about ANYTHING next school year I'm going to give them a hardcore reality check. I was able to get a picture of the classroom that I observed with all 85 six year olds in it, and I think I'm going to blow it up and put it above the board in my new classroom next year.

Alice picked me up yesterday morning around 10am so we could head over to St. Mary's and make sure we had everything prepared for our senior english class. I cut out (ripped out) newspaper articles from the Vision and the Monitor, and I had the class work in cooperative groups to dissect each article for honesty, integrity, validity, and to provide their own opinion as to how that article fit into their personal lives. The lesson went and awesome and horrible at the same time. Awesome because some of the students exceeded my expectations and really got into it. Some of the students are furious about Mugabe in Zimbabwe and the fact that nothing is being done about it by the international community. They were able to discuss the importance of international attention and the ethical responsibility of journalists to describe the truth so the world can then do something about it. On the other hand, however, I had a group of students who didn't take the assignment seriously at all, giggled the whole way through, and looked ridiculous when they sent their representative to defend their opinions with the class. 

I realize now that I came to Africa with A LOT of false impressions. I thought that school here as such a privilege that everyone strived to do their best, but in reality, school is school no matter where you go. I hold myself back from any sort of classroom management, I let ALice handle that, but I'm starting to believe very vehemently that if these students don't want to get into it, I will continue to push them anyway. I'm only here for 3 more weeks so I'm not trying to change the world overnight, and the students who don't want to achieve are in the minority, but it still infuriates me at times that I can't light a fire under their asses (metaphorically of course), to get them motivated.

Before I taught my senior 4 class though, Matt and I walked over to the primary school to meet with the headmaster and then observe a P1 class (1st grade basically). Walking up to the school we stumbled upon the headmaster caning a child, which made going into his office very uncomfortable. He was nice to us when we got in there, even though ethically it was very difficult, we kept our mouths shut and sat in on the P1 class. Primary school students react a lot differently to us than the high school kids, so it took the class a good 10 minutes before they were finally able to stop staring at us and turn their heads to the board. Some students never stopped staring though, and although I'm very used to the company of young children, even I was getting a little uncomfortable. Aside from the cultural differences though I started to really enjoy my time there. Teaching high school is strange for me because I'm not used to it, so it was nice to feel like I was home again, interacting with the little minis. A major difference, however, is that these students are used to a much different way of life, almost like survival of the fittest, or exactly like that. STudents by where I was sitting in the back of the room weren't paying attention, they were hitting each other (literally punching) and getting away with murder. The teacher was doing her best, but with 85 kids what can you do? Well, her answer to that was a teacher's helper. I had left by that point to go teach S4, but Matt stayed and told me that a P1 student would walk around the room with a stick, seek out the kids who weren't paying attention, and with the teachers permission would beat the children as he walked around the room. How's that for peer pressure? Sometimes it is extremely hard to get used to the differences here, extremely hard.

On our way back from school, Alice told me that her husband (who abuses her) is trying to come back into the picture. Not in a good way of course, but he has hired a babysitter and is trying to take her 3 little girls away from her. Not because he wants to spend time with them or because he loves them, but because he wants to have control over ALice and basically jut wants to make her life harder. She told me that in Uganda, the mother has rights to her children under the age of 7, but once at 7 the father can take them away. Alice said she'll take him to court though, and if her one daughter (who is 8) wants to stay with her, she can state that in court. I have no idea what this man's mindset can be though, because he must know that his children are terrified of him. He used to beat ALice daily in front of them, and her 3 year old has already stated outright that she will never live with him again. If she can make that decision at 3, i'm sure he made quite the awful impression upon them. ALice is afraid that he will try and kidnap them from school though, so she is going there this morning to make sure that they will not release any of her daughters into his custody. I'm meeting up with her for lunch today, so I'm sure I'll hear how that went.

I have to run soon so I'm going to check some e mails and then head out. After lunch with Alice I am going to the Invisible Children Office to shadow a mentor for the day, to check up on scholarship recipients and visit their homes to monitor their progress. I'll be back at Ma Computers later though to work on a professional development workshop that Matt, Casey and I are implementing at St. Mary's on Thursday concerning Active Participation, so I will definitely write more later..

happy 4th

Happy 4^th of July!!!!!

 Today was the international teachers conference in Gulu, and the first day that I got seriously frustrated. Discussing teaching strategies with some of the male teachers here makes me want to bang my head against a wall. I know that I’m not here to change the educational system, but I don’t understand how 5 questions at the end of a 90-minute lesson is an accurate assessment of a students performance. What happens if every student gets those questions wrong, or even one student? Then you just have to wait until the next day to try and reinforce that skill, review that skill, when you’re just starting at the beginning anyway. Teachers here don’t usually stay in the room when the students are answering those questions.  One teacher at ST. Mary’s, William, is so stuck in a rut that I don’t know how his students retain anything. He actually said today that the best way for the students to learn is to sit and take notes. They even have a phrase for it, “talk and chalk”. I guess I should have been prepared for this as soon as I saw the textbook, When there are sentences that discuss a good wife being someone who cooks a better meal for her husband than a sister wife in the English text, something is a little off. I guess the more time I spend here, the harder it is for me to grasp the cultural differences that hinder a classroom. I suppose it should be getting easier, but the more time I spend in the classroom the more good I want to do, but I feel like I’m being restricted by something larger than me, or my students, it’s culture.

During the conference we heard a lecture from an educator from Kampala, and Iit seemed as if the Northern Ugandan teachers too the opportunity to vent their frustration with the government’s educational policies. I felt bad for the speaker, because he didn’t represent the government at all, they were actually invited and did not come, but the N.U. teachers went nuts. They complained that they are underpaid, and have no say in the educational policy that the ministry administers, and I could really relate to that. It was good for me to hear them complain too, because up until that point in the conference, I was getting so frustrated with the male teachers that I shut down. I just stopped suggesting anything because I’m at a huge disadvantage. I look at everything from a special ed perspective, and I’m part of the new generation of teachers in New jersey that have been lucky enough to have modern, up to date courses on the teaching methods that have been proven by research to be the most effective. Listening to the teachers discuss their problems here, however, allowed me to jump off of my high horse for a second and see where they were coming from. In Uganda, when you take your high school exit exams, they literally give you a choice of occupations that you can choose form based on your scores. Some of these teachers didn’t even want to be educators, but going to school to be a doctor a lawyer is very expensive, and maybe their scores didn’t qualify them to be a doctor or a lawyer. It really did a lot for me in understanding why I see the apathetic attitudes of some of these teachers. It reminded me of one of my favorite novels, Anthem by Ayn Rand.  Teachers here are stretched very thin and paid very little with no health insurance, which didn’t justify, but gave me more insight into why I am seeing some of the frustrating practices that I am seeing. The other day at St. Mary’s, I saw a student walk up to a teacher for help, and they said, “I’m reading the paper now, come to me later.” I almost fell out of my chair. In the states, a teacher becomes a teacher because they are passionate about their career, because they want to help students. It took me almost all day today (of being totally pissed), to realize that there are good teachers and bad teachers everywhere… I’m starting to feel like the honeymoon stage is over for me, even if I still love this place more than any other place I have ever visited. The gratitude that I feel here is touching. When I took a boda home tonight, the driver asked me where I lived, and when I told him I was a teacher staying at Lacor he thanked me for coming to Uganda, a man that I had never seen before. He was sincerely thankful that I made the trip. He said, “thank you for coming here to help.” You wont hear that from a taxi driver in NYC.

 Here, the teachers feel like the government has too much say in curriculum without considering the teachers who are implementing that policy. I think an exact quote was, “policy makers don’t consider policy implementers on the ground.” I respect that because it happens at home too. AT the Craig School I would get frustrated sometimes because I feel as if we were asked a lot from a director that had been out of the classroom for so long, she wasn’t connected with classroom policy and practice. She was a genius when it came to diagnosing and treating learning disabilities, but when it came to everyday classroom practice she was very disconnected, which made my job difficult. (although now I have a totally new definition of the word “difficult”)

 I consider myself so lucky to be paired with Alice. She is so open and so willing to let me experiment with the kids and get them out of their seats. She sits and laughs when I dance around the room and get silly with the kids, and I honestly feel like we are learning from each other. She has spunk, and I see a lot of myself in her. For example, she left her husband three weeks ago because he drank and abused her, and today she was wearing a teeshirt that said, “Be a Man, Caring, Faithful, Non-Violent, Respectful.” She made her way through teachers college with three babies, and speaks the best English that I have heard here from an Acholi person.

 I was exhausted after the conference, but Jo, Casey and I managed to walk to town before heading home to get some essentials. I found a store that has sliced bread, Nutella and peanut butter, so I picked some up to have when I didn’t feel like eating dirt rice, something I’ve grown very accustomed to. Every bite of rice I take has bits of dirt in it so I don’t think I’ll ever eat rice the same way again. Now I just wolf it down as quick as possible, trying not to bite down.

 I had a soldier run after me with a rifle today in the market, which was pretty scary. I was walking in to grab mini bananas for my nutella and peanuter sandwhich idea when I heard “muzungu, muzungu!”, I just thought it was another person screaming at me because I’m white, something that I’ve gotten very used to, but apparently it was a soldier screaming at me to leave the market because it was closed. Yeah, they run after you with a rifle if you’re in the market after it closes. I don’t think I’ll forget that rule now.

 Back at the compound was very fun tonight, I think much needed after a frustrating, stressful, and exhilarating day. I learned how to play Kipps, and Jo was the best partner ever. I can’t wait to visit her in San Diego and get some legit burritos. From what the Cali kids have been telling me I have been missing out on some serious Mexican food.

 Tomorrow is day 2 of the conference, and hopefully it will be a little more encouraging than it was today.

boda boda

Blog 9 July 3^rd 2008

 Yesterday after school I came home exhausted. School days are run very differently here, and I find that making the most of my tine is one of the most important things I will learn here. At the end of the day Steven asked me if I had a “football”, and I needed to get newspapers for our honesty in the media discussion anyway, so I figured I would head into town. When I got home at first though, I couldn’t move. The long days, being at school from 8 to 4 in the heat, and the crazy bumpy boda rides really tire me out. I took 15 minutes and passed out on our couch and waited for someone to come home to take the ride in with me.

 Wendy, one of the girls that I haven’t gotten a chance to know to well, came home and said she needed to go, and a lot of the other girls were craving chocolate, so we took a boda into town to pick up some stuff. I was excited because it was my first time riding into town for 1,000 shillings, they’ve been making my mulu butt pay 1,500 since yesterday, maybe that was my initiation. The feeling I have when I’m riding on a boda is pretty hard to describe. I can’t take the smile off of my face, and the exhilaration that runs through my body is so intense. There’s nothing like near death on a bumpy boda ride to make you really feel alive.

 I was able to find 2 newspapers in town for my lesson, the Monitor and the Vision. The Monitor I independent and the Vision is government run, so looking at the same news stories in each publication is interesting, because the stories are usually told 2 different ways. For example, the UPDF (Ugandan People’s Defense Force) was accused of killing and kidnapping two people in South Sudan yesterday, but the Vision put out an article accusing the LRA of the crime. It really makes me question both organizations and the media in general. Over here, it seems really easy for one organization to point the blame at another, and no one really knows who was at fault. I’m also getting very accustomed to not trusting the military. Growing up with a police officer for a father (and a wonderful man at that), it was very easy for me to grow up trusting the police and the military. I’ve come out of that as I’ve grown older, and I realize that not everyone in a uniform has the same integrity that my father has. This trip has most definitely reinforced my suspicious perspective.

 Yesterday was Amy’s birthday, and we invited the Invisible Children house to come over to our neck of Gulu and have a birthday party celebration. I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun at someone else’s birthday party in my entire life. It started with just our house and Ben, who walked over from the IC house early. We grabbed wine and beers and vodka from town, grabbed a birthday cake, and waited for Amy to arrive as the rest of the IC house trickled in from down the road. Amy went to the Acholi Inn with the members of group one for dinner and swimming and a manicure, so she didn’t arrive until about 9. Group one is unique because they are almost all theater majors from NYU, so their arrival with Amy was absolutely spectacular. I was sitting outside of the dorm by myself, drinking a beer and getting some air when I heard a truck rumbling down the road. Immediately after I heard singing, and then I saw all of group one, Amy, Jaimie and John totally decked out in outfits they made from the same material in town. They were singing the whole way in which definitely caused a commotion on campus. Little heads were popping out of buildings all over the compound. When they arrived they jumped out of the truck and preformed a little skit with music for Amy’s birthday, which was so funny! Nothing spells out a good time like a bunch of theater majors. After that we poured some beers and some drinks and had another super crazy dance party. I’m going to go home and have to convince Kristen to dance with me around the apartment because I’m going to miss dancing my ass off so much. We plugged Ashleigh’s Ipod into a dock and just completely let go. Amy is one of the most genuine and sincere people I have ever met, I can honestly say that it was a pleasure celebrating her birthday with her.

 I’m going to make a special trip to REI when I get back to thank the man that works there for convincing me to buy a head lamp, because a couple tipsy trips to the latrine on the compound in the middle of the night was definitely made easier by having a light on my head.

 Needless to say, our crazy dance party made it a little hard to wake up this morning, especially because it started to pour around 5am. For one horrible second, when I heard the rain, I forgot why I was here and was excited at the prospect of staying in bed. Sometimes when it rains here the roads get so bad that it is impossible to get to school. I got past my western princess attitude pretty quickly however, dragged myself out of bed, threw on crocs and a raincoat and made my way to the road. Alice and I took a wet boda ride to school and attacked the day. I saw some of the

 Teaching is so different here because sometimes it’s like going to war. I feel like it’s so crucial for me to be at the top of my game here, to give my students and my teacher the best of everything I can give.

 Last night before we went to bed we all did something called “high/low” where we all spoke about the high point of our day and the lowest. Today definitely had it’s highs and lows, although I felt like as a whole, it went really well.

 I had S3 first today, and I was excited because it was my first time speaking in that class. It took them a second or two to get used to my accent, and to have a white woman in front of the room, but their sense of humor as a class was really hysterical. I was able to be funny and over the top and they ate it up. I gave myself a crash course on relative clauses this morning, and really felt like they were understanding what I was getting across. I broke them up into cooperative groups, sent students to the board for competitions, and generally tried to make it fun. It’s hard to get excited about school when it’s a down pour outside, and I was really impressed with their ability to push through. 

mac lunch

Blog 7 July 2^nd 2008

 

I can’t believe that I’m only a half-day behind in my journaling and I feel like I have to catch up on so much! I guess I’ll start with yesterday afternoon and the nighttime.

 

After I met up with Kyle and Sarah for lunch at Mac Café, they went back to their classes at school and I headed off to the market to brave it alone. I was actually really productive and proud of myself. I walked with purpose like Amy told us to, and I managed to pick up a bundle of sweet bananas and 3 avocados with no problem. The woman at the avocado stand actually picked out 2 ripe ones for me, and gave me a third for free. The food here is great some times, bearable other times, and unrecognizable sometimes too, so it’s great to have some extra snacks around in times of need. After my little adventure I hopped on a boda and came back to the convent, stripped down to my underwear and laid down in the empty dorm with my fan and my ipod. I’ve been watching parts of the Tin Man while I’ve had some down time, and I really like it. I’m not  a sci fi chick but I really like the way the film was made. I only had about 10 minutes of alone time though, because Ashleigh and Sarah came back not too long after to get ready for a run.  They didn’t even get a chance to go, however, because for th first time since we’ve been here it RAINED! It was the craziest hour of rain that I’ve ever seen. It came down in sheets, so hard that an umbrella would be completely useless. I took a video of us crazy munu’s running out into it, we were so excited to get rid of some of the dust.

 

Sister Appelonia invited us to an Acholi wedding reception, and although some us didn’t want to go because we were tired, most of us sucked it up and went anyway. Everyone who went decided that an Acholi wedding doesn’t come around everyday, so we seized the opportunity. I have to say I’m so glad we went. It was at Diana Gardens, the buffet restaurant. We sat and ate and then went into the party for some CRAZY dancing. Those ladies seriously know how to get down and have a good time. Casey and I planned ahead, and bought some Fantas at the bar to bring back to the convent with us. Here in Gulu, if you want to take a soda with you, you have to pay extra because they save all of the glass bottles. They reuse them too, so drinking out of a straw is key, although that’s not always possible. I haven’t gotten sick yet though, and I’ve drunk out of some bottles and brushed my teeth with the water, although I spit it right out. I’ll probably jinx myself while I’m typing this, but a mosquito hasn’t bitten me yet.  One of the girls from group one at the IC house actually contracted malaria, even though she was on the pills, and she said she wanted to die for 2 days. The latrine at our school is pretty scary too, when you open the door the walls almost look black because they’re covered with mosquitos. Imagine squatting down over a hole swatting your hands over your ass because you forgot to bug spray your cheeks, definitely an experience.

 

Today was my first day of actual teaching, and I had S1, S2 and S4. Ironically enough S4 is my favorite, I think because we’re discussing honesty in the media, and I’ve been able to bring current events into the mix and talk to them about things like Mugabe and Obama. One student was very outspoken in class, Steven, and I’m really looking forward to picking hisbrain while I’m here. From the first day I picked him out as the “leader” of his class, and I was surprised when he sat captivated during my media talk. Their book spoke about not letting your opinions get in the way of your comprehension when reading newspaper articles, and I was able to speak to them about 9-11, and the effect it had on people in my area and their world perspective. I learned that they have 2 newspapers here, one that is independent and one that is government run. I’m bringing both into class tomorrow so the students can analyze them. They all agreed that if Zimbabwe had a government run newspaper that the world may not know about the illegitimate elections there.

 

In the beginning of each of my classes I told the students that their first assignment was to understand my accent, and to tell me immediately if I talk too fast. I explained to them that in the United States, people in New Jersey probably talk the fastest, and that even my father tells me I speak too quickly, so they have to let me know. One student immediately raised his hand and asked me to slow down, which was pretty funny.

 

The students have testing next week so I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be doing. I plan on visiting St. Jude’s again if I can, but I’m not sure if I’ll get the chance.

 

 

personal day

July 1st 1:35pm

This morning I slept in a little it, and woke up around 7:45. It’s hard here to sleep any later than that because everyone is up and getting ready for school in the morning. I felt super relaxed because I didn’t have school today, and the thought of going out and exploring town was pretty awesome.

Matt and I grabbed some boda’s outside of the compound and headed to Caltex this morning so Matt could break some change, then we headed over to Ma computers (where I’m at right now). It was nice to be able to sit down relaxed and type up some lesson plans. Tomorrow I have S1, S2 and S4, so I wanted to type up the plans Alice and I discussed yesterday. At the end of my stay in Gulu I’m going to give Alice a portfolio of all of the work we did together so she’ll have a reference to work with while I’m home.

S1 is learning reading comprehension right now, but they’re also identifying pronouns, infinitives and verbs in sentences. It’s kind of crazy for me to be teaching high school English, and not elementary, because I had to give myself a crash course on grammar this morning. It’s funny, because when I was learning French in school I had a very difficult time with all of the technical terms, but could speak great because we spoke French at home. I’d like to explain to the students that 90% of Americans have no idea what an infinitive is anyway, but I don’t know how well that would go over.

I’m stoked because in senior English we’re discussing the importance of honest, non-biased journalism, so I’ll have a chance to break out my time magazine and talk about the US elections and also about Mugabe in Zimbabwe. There’s one student, Steven, in that class, and he definitely runs the show. He literally answered 97% of the questions in class yesterday, something that would never be allowed in the US, or at least shouldn’t be. I’m looking forward to picking his brain, but also trying to draw some of the other students into the conversations as well.
After Ma computers Matt and I parted ways because he had class, so I walked around town alone for a little bit. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I was looking for, so I wandered around with my Ipod on and checked out the sites. I found a post office, so all I need to do now is find a postcard place and I’ll be set to send some home.

I ran into Sarah and Kyle while I was wandering around (my saviors), and we headed over to the Mac Café for some lunch. I’ve been eating avocados over here like I drink redbull in the states, and today was no different. I had the avocado vinaigrette salad and it was delicious. I’m back at Ma computers now because I headed over with Kyle and Sarah, but they have school after this so I’ll be on my own again. I want to go to the market to get some fresh fruit and avocados that I can eat at home. The market is a little intimidating though, I have to admit. My knowledge of the language is very limited, so like always I try my best and hope it works out.

After today I don’t think I’ll be able to get to a computer until the weekend, so if you’re reading and if you aren’t bored to tears, I’ll have a bundle of blogs next time I log on.