Nsangala Celebration

As you know, I have been working with the Headmaster of Bethlehem Parents' School on both the screening-in of the dormitory windows and the girls' football team. Ronald is not just the Headmaster/Coach for these children, but is loved and revered by them that they simply call him "Uncle." All 500 or so students are known by name and face, by background and current family status to my dear friend Ronald. I am amazed at his capacity to give and give without regard to self-interest or personal resources. I was the fortunate beneficiary of Uncle Ronald's love when he invited me to his home village of Nsangala last weekend. Nsangala is a teeny, tiny village about one hour west of Masaka. When Ronald invited me to his home, I thought I'd be going to meet his father (his mother died when he was 3), his brothers, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, etc. and to enjoy lunch and maybe walk around his old stomping grounds for a bit. Boy was I wrong!! As you see from the photos, my visit to Nsangala was an event that the whole village turned out to celebrate. Unbeknown to me was the fact that not a single person outside of Nsangala (save Ronald) has EVER seen or interacted with a non-Ugandan. Because this village is so remote -- having no electricity, permanent structures, tarmac road (or even a road wide enough for a car to pass!), or even its own borehole or spring well -- there are no CBOs, NGOs or FBOs operating within that may have provided such exposure. So, I was the most fortunate ambassador of mzungu-dom to these lively, grateful, joyous folks.

I was greeted by the whole village (seriously...all 500 folks...young, old, men, women, children...) at the boarder of the farthest path that takes one into the village. When I emerged from the car (that could go no further due to the one-lane foot path that is the only access route to Nsangala), I was serenaded by drumming and singing folks who were carrying hand sewn signs reading "Welcome Mama Julie, Thank U 4 Coming" and "Safe Journey Back to America Mama Julie." Two beautiful girls with wide eyes and bare, brown feet threw flowers on me and in front of me as we all walked the three or so kilometers to the gathering place arranged for my visit. The village elders were clapping and singing the whole way and I was doing my best not to bawl like a baby (lest they think all mzungus are cry-babies!). Upon arrival in the tent (papyrus mats, made by Nsangala residents, strung around tree trunks with banana leaf covering to provide shade and let the breeze cool our feverish celebrations), I was made to sit in the "chair of honor" and privy to hours of singing, dancing, and drama performance. Even if Ronald had told me about this welcome in advance, I could not have possibly been prepared for such an honor. As we sat down to eat (the only thing there is no shortage of in Nsangala is food as nearly all residents are subsistence farmers), Ronald and some of the elders were telling me that the children (and indeed, they themselves -- although they didn't say so) weren't sure that I would eat the local matoke, g-nut sauce, chicken, rice, and banana pancakes they had prepared because they didn't know what a mzungu could possibly eat to stay so white! I assured them that I enjoy the local food tremendously and that it is by birth, and not by diet, that my skin is white. The general reaction was something akin to "Ohhhhh...okay." with emphasis on the disbelieving "okay" at the end.

As the festivities continued, I joined in on some of the Kiganda dances (of course!) that I have learned and shook my Mugandan Kabina (roughly translated: my big booty) with the children, the group of widows that performed, and the local leaders who couldn't believe that I knew the local dances. The dust and feathers were flying, I was smiling so hard my face hurt, and sweat was pouring off of us all..the energy of the day carried us late into the afternoon. Just before parting, I was asked to speak to the people of Nsangala. No pressure, right?! I managed to construct a few thoughts and deliver them in passable Lunganda to the delight and disbelief of all...including myself. So overwhelmed by the love and generosity of folks I had never even met, I was rescued from dissolving into tears by a young boy (that had serenaded me earlier during one of the traditional song/dance numbers) who walked right up to me...pulled on the leg of my jeans (I know Mom...I was wearing jeans..but I swear I didn't know that I was heading into a celebration...I promise to look smart no matter what -- because the advice you raised me with is true (yes, I said it)...you never do know who you will encounter, so why not look presentable?!) and then motioned for me to bend over so that I was face to face with him. I followed his lead and before I knew it, he was removing the elastic band from my hair and pulling with all his might. He had never seen "white people's" hair before and thought I was wearing a wig! Thank goodness for the honesty and unabashed curiosity of children to remind us that life is the pieces that make up the picture so we can stop worrying about the picture itself and focus on those precious pieces already!

As Ronald and I made to return to the car we had left a few kilometers away, the ENTIRE village walked us back. With all the villagers talking/singing/clapping and shouting "Okomawo ddi??" (When are you coming back?) and "Tukwagala nyo!" (We love you very much!) and "Webale kujja!" (Thank you for coming!), I got into the car and we began the journey back to Kyotera. Momentarily I closed my eyes and laid my head back...but I could hear something that sounded like heavy summer rain drops on a tin roof that caused me to break my reprieve. I looked towards the direction of the sound and found that it wasn't rain drops at all..it was the footfalls of about a hundred children running -- barefoot, swiftly, smiles big, arms pumping, hands waving -- after the car. Ronald said that the fact that the parents had let their children give me such a "push" (the term used in place of "good-bye" or "send off"...as in "When Barbara left Uganda, I drove with her to the airport to give her a push.") was a sign of their collective decision that this mzungu was now considered "theirs" and part of their community. I have never been so honored in such a way in my life.

I have pledged to assist Ronald figure out ways to help his birth village (most, if not all, folks return to their "birth village" upon death no matter where they've been or how long they've been away and they are buried on their family property with their grave being tended to daily so that their departed soul may mingle with the folks still around...quiet a beautiful concept actually) develop a plan to access clean water (now, they share a swampy pool of water with their livestock -- it is contaminated and is the only source of water save a natural spring that is 6km -- one way -- from the mud and papyrus structures that make up the "center" of the town.). I was also impacted by the widows' group -- large in number and many of them being young, they have been making crafts (baskets, mats, crocheted fabric pieces) with hopes of selling them. Until I came, they weren't sure they would have a way of selling them, so they would put time, effort, and love into their products and then give them to the newest widow (their numbers grow far too often as the incidence rate of HIV/AIDS is nearly 20% in this small community) who would join their group. Although they will continue to do that, I will be returning to the States with some of the hand-woven, banana-fibre baskets that they make to see if I can find buyers and then return the money (via Ronald) to these deserving members of the community.

As I have said in earlier emails, everywhere you look you can find someone or many someones who could use some help. I figure that being among the fortunate, if I can do what I can with what I have -- and what "I have" is incredible (...born an American, supportive parents, good education, great friends, amazing mentors, colleagues, former employers, and a loving partner...doesn't get much better than that!) -- then maybe I can spread the wealth a bit. It doesn't seem right that I will soon return to a place where I can turn on any tap in almost any sink anywhere I go and not even have a conscious thought as to the quality, source, or expense of the water that comes out while my new friends and family in Nsangala (and in Kyotera, my home here -- although we are fortunate to have a working borehole in the center of town..so the folks living the deepest in Kyotera only have to walk two or three kilometers, one way, for their water) have to walk over three miles, one way, carrying a twenty litre jerry can on their head from the age of nine or ten to then use the dirty water to cook, clean, bathe, wash clothes, etc. I'm not sure that "development" in the Western context is the solution...but really, we live with an embarrassment of riches and excess (and this is coming from a girl who loves a good pair of heels and a well-tailored pantsuit just as much as the next...). As I let the events of the day sink in, I realized that this land and these people are forever a part of me. I have know for a while that I will be returning again and again to what has become my second home country. As Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace continues to take shape and evolve, I find myself asking questions all the time - "What can we do? How can we do it? Can I make this happen? Am I capable of pulling this all together?" But Ronald's gift to me -- showing me that just being myself is enough -- is one that I will continue to draw upon for sustenance as I make the journey back to my first home country, to America.

This give and take, this teach and learn, this ebb and flow of information, ideas, love, energy, lessons, life that I have been allowed to experience over the past year can really be summed up by my late-night text to Barbara after arriving to my flat post-Nsangala celebration (something to the effect of): I've got two live chickens, twenty avocados, three bunches of matoke and about fifty potatoes and a heart full of love...could I be any luckier?!

Much Peace and Love to You and Yours...

The smiles say it all...

The screens are finished! The children are happy! The Director and Headmaster (and other teachers and staff) are overwhelmed at the impact this will have on their community(the children appreciate that they are safer but it is the adults who have spent years watching their brothers and sisters and children fall sick and die with malaria that truly understand the profundity of the mesh and wood in place of gaping opening)! I have been the fortunate ambassador of such good news and good works and I hope that I have been able to convey the heartfelt generosity of resources and spirit that you have offered to the children and community of Bethlehem Parents' School. I continue to learn from the gratitude that is in every action of these beautiful people.

As I come closer to the time when I will head back to the United States, I am faced with such a bittersweet reality that I don't believe I can articulate my current state. I hover somewhere between excited optimism and genuine terror :) Where I find myself at any given moment on any given day is currently as unknown to me as what it is to have a flushing toilet! On a more serious note, I am putting in place communication and monitoring measures that will ensure that the positive momentum continues. As I prepare to end one chapter of the life story and begin another, I hope that this quick update finds you busy capturing and enjoying the life-story moments of each day. Much peace and love to you and yours....

The Screens Arrive!!

Webale nyo! Thank you very much!

We have done it!! With your incredible generosity, the three projects of my last email (screens for boys and girls dormitories, football boots and uniforms and Jon's water project) have all been funded. In fact, the current amount raised has reached $1600!! I am overwhelmed by the outpouring of support for these people that I love so much. The entire community of Bethlehem Parents' School sends their heartfelt thanks and blessings.

When I approached the Director, Mr. Fred, with the funds for the screen project, the tears in his eyes and the smile on his face were evidence of the decade he has toiled (and the utter exhaustion he faces at the ongoing barriers to creation of a quality, safe, healthy educational setting) to make his community a better place for disadvantaged children. His gratitude for YOUR generosity was a humbling experience for me. It is important to me that you know that these children will now face less of threat from mosquitoes carrying incapacitation diseases because you have opened your hearts and your wallets to these deserving and wonderful children and the adults that look after their well-being.

After delivering to good news and the funds for the screen project, I was fortunate to be your spokeswomen of even more good news...when the girls (and assistant coach/head teacher Ronald) were stretching for our daily training, I asked for a moment to talk about how we were going to progress as a team. With brown faces and pink smiles, the girls sat in the dust, huge, dark eyes full of questions as to what I was going to say. Then, with my heart bursting and joy seeping out of my pores (and eyes...okay, I admit it, I am a big softie...cried the whole darn time!), I shared the news that we would be getting boots and uniforms! How do I describe what happened next?? The hooting and hollering, the tears, the giggles, the jumping up and down, the hugs, the disbelief, the blessings...these exclamations were only outdone during the official presentation of a full uniform (jersey, shorts, socks, shin pads, boots...the whole nine yards!) to each girl footballer. At this assembly (held outside under the shade of banana trees that are scattered around the compound), nearly 600 children and staff went officially nuts! So many of the adults came up to me afterwards and thanked me for telling the good news of Uganda. They worry that people in the rest of the world only hear about Uganda when something bad happens. They were trying to wrap their heads around the idea that I sent word to friends and family about their very community and that people who received my messages responded with such kindness. Many of the male teachers (footballers since birth and very interested in the school team) told me that even though they had been playing football for years, they had never even see a shin guard up close and in fact, they did not know how to tell the girls to put them on. Amazing things are happening for these exceptional folks because of all of you. As I shared earlier, the ownership of a pair of football boots was a new and mind-blowing reality for the girls. We spent about an hour on the second practice day after giving out the equipment just learning how to lace and tie the boots. Although I should have realized it, the girls did not know that there were shoes with laces and of course it follows, they did not know how to tie 'their very own shoes' that had complicated, long and mysterious laces to be managed. Humbling, indeed.

Again, I am taught the true meaning of gratitude by young people and adults who take nothing, NOTHING for granted. May we all walk through our days with a tenth of their awareness of good fortune.

As the donations began to exceed the initial amount that I laid out in my last email, I looked through my loooong "to do" list of all things related to my experience here and my future plans for Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace Foundation. At the top of this list is a young man, Richard Kisutu. I have included an excerpt of an email that I sent to my parents about this great friend of mine below:
Upon arrival, all those months ago in October, one of the first people to greet me was Richard Kisutu (pronounced chee-soo-too). Richard was there from the early start of day one, smile ready, eyes sparkling, enjoying the work he was doing and giving his best to each client that came in the door. He appeared tireless and lit from the inside. As I got to know Richard, I learned of his story: Richard Kisutu is a twenty year old Ugandan who has just completed his secondary schooling, with a diploma focused in psychology and counseling services. Richard was orphaned at a young age due to the HIV/AIDS endemic that nearly wiped out a generation of people (the majority were Richard's parents age) and found himself living with his aging grandfather on his subsistence farmland. Literally having no money with which to pay school fees, Richard walked from his grandfather's village into the larger town of Kyotera (where I live now) and went to every organization he could find looking for someone who could help him find work (he was seven at the time!) or sponsorship so that he could go to school. From a very young age, Richard realized that education was going to be his driving force. He has spent every day, since that fateful encounter with a generous sponsor in Kyotera who funded his primary and secondary education, giving back. Richard believes that his life was changed for the better through education and support (emotional, physcological, religious) that he received as a beneficiary of other's good deeds. As he continues on his path towards a university degree in counseling and social work, Richard is determined to achieve a level of education that the vast majority of Ugandans (let alone orphans in Uganda) ever realize. After obtaining his degree from Markerere University (in Kampala), Richard wants to return to Rakai District (within which Kyotera is situated) and offer support, counseling, and mentoring to vulnerable youth (many of whom find themselves in the same difficult situation that he did as a young boy). He envisions a future where he will lead by example...in his words, "Look at me kids. I am Ugandan. I am an orphan. I have achieved greatness through education and success by returning to my community to help others. You can too." Distilling his future dreams to that level made me understand the meaning of the word 'faith' in a way that I hadn't yet thought about. Richard has unequivocal faith that he WILL continue to university and he WILL walk across the lawn at graduation and he WILL return to his home village and he WILL help kids just like him. He believes so earnestly, that I cannot help but be inspired to try and help him along the journey. These are the starling statistics related to education that make me shake my head in wonder at the odds that were (and are) stacked against Richard's dream coming true: Roughly 75% of primary school graduates drop out and never go on to secondary school; About one fourth of first year students (in secondary school) drop out, and, by the fourth year of secondary school, only a small percentage of the entering class graduate; Upon graduation, less that 25% are eligible for university; Of that 25%, annually, about 10% are able to enter university upon satisfactory application, acceptance and fee submission. Richard would be one of about 9,000 Ugandans each year who are able to make it to the first day of class at university. The time commitment, lack of role models, family expectations and duties, costs and complicated and often convoluted administrative issues are just so incredibly prohibitive that it is a wonder that even that many folks make it to university! For Richard to attend Makerere University, he needs to come up with $3700 (USD), to completely pay for his three years of schooling. Although this may not seem like a great deal of money, it is an amount that is impossible for Richard to even imagine, let alone raise himself. Having grown close to this exceptional young man, seen his mud and brick house, dug in the fields with him and his grandfather, eaten on the dirt floor of his home, and been privy to his concerns and worries, his hopes and beliefs...I can say, without hesitation, that if we can raise enough money for this one young man to go to university, we will be impacting an entire community. Richard is one of the finest, most earnest, hardworking, joyful people I know. He would give you the shirt off his back if you were in need without taking the time to even blink. Although I cannot truly understand what life has been like for Richard thus far, I can see clearly into his bright future -- he WILL make life better for countless others. I am writing about my friend and colleague because I feel compelled to try and help Richard achieve the greatness for which he is destined. I am asking for your help in this quest. Please share my short musings on my friend Richard with whomever you like. Please encourage folks to give whatever they can...every single cent will get Richard closer to his dream and every cent will go directly towards his educational expenses.
So, as you can tell, I believe in this young man and his ability to make good things happen. With your permission, I would like to use the additional funds to go towards Richard's anticipated registration with Makerere University this spring. He will begin his university education in August of 2009. He is very interested in offering his services to Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace Foundation after obtaining his degree. This young man doesn't just want to fulfill his own dreams, he want to help others fulfill theirs. I am hoping that my request to use the additional funding to facilitate Richard's entry into university is agreeable to all who have donated money thus far. As always, if you are interested in helping further, please do not hesitate to let me know! (You can mail donations to my father: Paul Ridgeway, 271 Strawberry Circle, Windsor, CT 06095)

As the Foundation that Barbara and I are starting is taking shape, I will update you on the progress and potential program initiatives. Thank you for your interest, your time and your open hearts. You really are helping to make a positive difference in the lives of others.

I have attached photos that show the progression from barefoot, skirt-clad lady footballers to uniformed and booted sportswomen that my young ladies (They informed me that I was now their "Ssanga (Auntie) Julie" and that they were my "daughters" as is the local custom of calling nieces and nephews your daughters and sons! Who knew I would end up with thirty daughters in less than one year?!) experienced because of YOU. Also, please find the photos of the boys in the dorm windows and the screening material arriving by bike to the compound (Here, you can get a live cow delivered by bike, so a couple dozen yards of screen mesh and twenty or so two-by-fours was no sweat to transport!) attached as well.

Webale nyo means "Thank you very much" in Luganda. I do not have enough words (in any language!) to adequately express my appreciation to you (and your family and friends who responded when you forwarded them my email) for your kindness, your caring, and for the conscious actions that you have taken to help others.

Much peace and love to you and yours,

And You Thought I'd Adopt a Child in Uganda...

Instead, I opted for something much smaller and less expensive (although, may present many of the same difficulties of parenthood..I'm guessing!) It's official…I am the host of some lovely, unidentified (as of yet) parasites. They live in my intestines and keep me company throughout my days. I have finally lost those pesky extra pounds…if I could bottle and sell the "parasite diet" I would! I'm choosing to look at my medical situation through a rose-tinted lens because I have the great fortune of complete access to the best medical care, medicines and support one could ask for…all thanks to the American tax payer. Which means, of course, that I am "paying" for having these tricky buggers in more ways than one :) I have been in and out of Kampala over the last few months trying to figure out why it is that my body is doing what it is doing (I will spare you the colorful details) and working out a health plan with the Peace Corps medical staff. Bottom line….no worries. I appreciate all the emails of encouragement and the subtle hints (and not-so-subtle, in some cases!) that "coming home" might be the best thing for my health. I assure those of you that are concerned that I will not sacrifice my long-term health because I am my father's daughter. (For those of you that don't know my father, let's just say that I inherited my "determination" – okay, stubbornness – directly from the big guy!) I will not "stick it out" for the sake of pride or expectation, but will continue to make rational, safe decisions regarding my health and my time in Uganda.
Okay, enough of the heavy stuff…I have great news: Bethlehem Parents' School now officially has a girls' futbol team!! We have been practicing for about a month and the young ladies are really coming along in their skills and teamwork. I have 35 young women (ages 12-16yrs.) who attend BPS with the help of donors as all the students at the school are orphans. There are about 600 students at BPS and it is run by two incredible gentlemen, Mr. Fred and Headmaster Ronald, who have been instrumental in the team formation and in leading the residents of Bethlehem in their support of such a unique venture. We have an audience during our practices – we have a pitch that we share with the cows – if the cows are there before us, we have to defer to them but if we are there first, then the cows will wander off to the side of the pitch and only move to the center when we are done…it's quite a fair arrangement actually – which I run barefoot and sweaty (it's been a looong time since I ran laps around a pitch…and I've never played on a pitch with cow pie as frequent as grass) alternating between my shaky Luganda and English. We laugh together as much as we learn together. I've managed to buy two futbols which the young ladies share willingly. They have never had a "real" ball (they told me when I brought the futbols to our first practice) and can't believe that now they have two!! We spent a few weeks just getting used to the weight and texture of the ball – none of the girls have cleats or shin pads so kicking the ball barefoot has been a learning experience for all – and now we're moving on to heading, trapping and throw ins. Quite thrilling stuff actually. I can't keep the grin off my face as they run from the field back to the school/orphanage, a cloud of dust trailing, the pink bottoms of bare feet and the bright blue of the school uniform standing out from the cloud, chanting in unison "One, two, three, four…we are GIRLS who play FUTBOL…five, six, seven, eight…as a TEAM we CELEBRATE!"
Although I continue to be conscious of the health challenges I face, I also continue to be blessed every day. The small things (like being called "sister" by one of my Ugandan friends for the first time…which is actually a "big thing" to me!) and the BIG big things (Barbara is visiting in two weeks!!) alike, serve to remind me that I am among the fortunate. I hope that this long overdue update finds you and yours healthy and enjoying what each day has to offer.
Much peace and love to you...

Turn, Turn, Turn...

Hi Friends and Family!
The rainy season has ended...let the sunshine in!! In Uganda, the end of the second rainy season marks the time of new, explosive growth of crops and (as I was informed just yesterday) a season of births. Apparently, June and July are months that see a jump in the number of babies being born. After Barbara's three week visit, I also feel a certain "rebirth", if you will. Seeing Uganda through her eyes has allowed me to re-discover people and places that I have become accustomed to over the last ten months. We had the good fortune to spend time with the children of Buyamba (a tiny village about 10 km away from Kyotera) teaching them to make paper bead jewelry which I will send to the States to be sold with the profits returned directly to the children to pay for school fees, books, uniforms and shoes so that they may continue their primary education. We also went to Bethlehem Parents' School to have a futbol practice with the girls team. When we arrived, we were greeted by about 400 of the students who were standing barefoot, dressed in the bright blue uniform of BPS. The pink soles of their brown feet lined the dirt road entrance to the school compound. We could hear, softly at first and then loud and joyous, "Welcome Ms. Barbara. Happy stay Ms. Barbara." being sung by the students. As we walked through the center of the two lines of singing children, they folded in behind us and kept singing as we both became teary-eyed (of course!) at such a generous and warm welcome. After a big meal of local food (I'm not sure Barbara's stomach will ever be the same!), the children then performed songs and dances and we found ourselves being pulled into the dancing and singing by smiling children with outreached hands (how can you not be compelled to share this experience regardless of dance skills?!). After a wonderful futbol practice, we left BPS and I found myself again inspired by the selflessness of the children and community of Bethlehem. The next two weeks found us on safari to Murchison Falls (elephants, giraffes, lions, oh my!) and then west to Kabale and Lake Bunyonyi (we agreed, it was the most beautiful place either of us has ever seen). As I said a painful good-bye at the airport, I was feeling a strange mixture of sadness and joy. Although the end of her visit marked another period of geographic separation, I felt that Barbara's visit renewed my determination and (if possible) increased my love of this land and its people. I cannot thank her enough for allowing me to end my personal rainy season by seeing Uganda through her eyes.


My work with child abuse prevention and protection is proceeding slowly as my organization (ANPPCAN) is in between grants. One of the biggest frustrations that I encounter daily is the dependency that aid organizations have introduced and nurtured over the last several decades in "developing" countries like Uganda. Due to the dependency on outside funding, theese organizations (including ANPPCAN) have to wait for funds that often come with strict instructions from donors that may or may not have been to Africa, Uganda, or the particular village in which the numerous NGOs, CBOs and FBOs operate. I am reminded of (allow me to step atop my soapbox for a minute) my work at P.S. 75 in the South Bronx and the failure of the "No Child Left Behind" program. Although never fully funded, the money that was spent on the program had cookie-cutter restrictions related to text books, curriculum and testing that more often than not failed to address the actual needs of students and teachers alike. Okay....enough of my preaching. I have a feeling it is to the choir anyway :) So we find ourselves planning programs and activities and waiting for funds to come through to realize such projects. I am plenty busy with my work in the community, but cannot help feeling frustrated with the senselessness of donor-recipient relations. My colleagues (in particular my direct counter-part and the accountant, Mr. Kalamagi and Ms. Nanono) are devoted and committed to continuing their work regardless of the lack of funds (and despite the fact that their salaries are several months in arrears). I am fortunate that they are my family here. What wonderful people!

My health and my stomach issues are remaining at status quo and I am headed to Kampala in the coming weeks for more tests. Although my medical issues will result in my having to leave Uganda sooner rather than later, my spirits are high and my yoga continues to improve (in my slightly biased opinion!) with each sunrise that I greet on the rooftop of my home.


As I close this email, I want to wish all of you and your families peace and love. May you be as fortunate as I have been to find inspiration (through another's eyes or through your own) from your surroundings, from the people you encounter, the places you go and from each sunrise and sunset.