Thursday, April 30, 2009
Nature's Wonders
After saying good-bye to the good folks of Kyotera -- and after a long and fruitful (actually, so inspirational) board meeting -- Jimmy (my Ugandan brother by another mother) met us and took us to Queen Elizabeth National Park. Unbelievable. Endless sky meets mountain, meets sunset, meets greens and yellows and oranges and earth. The stars at night so close that after an evening safari where our guide Matthew (who came from the same Gulu village that my friend Jimmy came from!) led us directly to the old female lion, Anna, that is in the video, I found myself needing to sit on my hands so as not to literally reach towards the sky to see if I could grasp this light for a moment in my palm.
The view from our place is of the open plains of Queen Elizabeth National Park. The Rwrenzori Mountains and the distant Congo guide eyes east and west, while the green carpet of the park, dotted with trees the hundred of elephants haven't managed to topple yet, finds the south and the mood-shifting, colored and clouded sky cradles the sun as the north is met in the upward glance. Just enough and then an overwhelming abundance.
And now, after magic and majesty, we go east to the power and passion of the River Nile.
So fortunate.
Much peace and love,
The view from our place is of the open plains of Queen Elizabeth National Park. The Rwrenzori Mountains and the distant Congo guide eyes east and west, while the green carpet of the park, dotted with trees the hundred of elephants haven't managed to topple yet, finds the south and the mood-shifting, colored and clouded sky cradles the sun as the north is met in the upward glance. Just enough and then an overwhelming abundance.
And now, after magic and majesty, we go east to the power and passion of the River Nile.
So fortunate.
Much peace and love,
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Jjemba Paul
Muzzae! Muzzae! The shouts of the children and adults alike ring in our ears...my father is in Uganda for the first time and the people of Uganda are happy to greet him. Muzzae is loosly translated as 'old man', but is not a comment on one's age, but rather on one's status.
Prior to my father's arrival, I warned my friends and colleagues that he would, as he is want to do, cry. A lot. And cry he did! I must admit, it would have been hard not to as the welcomes that he received in Bethlehem, at the pitch with the whole team, at Kyotera Town Secondary School - bright eyes, all trained on the muzzae and his every move - hands rythmically clapping and feet, bare and pink and pounding the ground into dusty, sparkling ether -- the swinging hips and sweaty faces, open mouths and singing voices -- all were working their hearts out to put on a show for the muzzae. I was so proud of them all and so proud to introduce them to my father.
Through laughter, broken Luganda, tears, handshakes, hugs and shy greetings this community has opened their hearts and their homes to us -- they have taken my father as their own, often calling him "Papa Paul" or "The Father" (which I have assured him does NOT mean that he is on the same level with God...we'll see if his head gets to big!)-- he doesn't seem to mind.
As we prepare for our Board Meeting to plan the next year of Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace programming, my father has the beginning of an understanding as to the scope of the work and the potential impact our small organization can make in this community. He keeps saying, "a little goes a long way" and I couldn't agree more. Leading by examples, my friends, daughters, and colleagues have proven that this last week -- with relative little in the way of resources (think: shoes and soda, money and materials) each place we have visited has given us a welcome overwhelming in both in joy and in plenty. Our meeting should be very productive as the Uganda Board is eager to further develop our initiatives and serve this worthy community and these derserving people.
After getting down to business this past week, I will let my father have a couple of days of relaxation as we continue to experience other parts of the country -- first a safari in Queen Elizabeth National Park and the the River Nile. There is no way to prepare oneself (let alone anotehr being) for what we are about to see -- nature and history, power and devestation, animals and horizons, peoples and art. The journey of the muzzae and his daughter continues as we work our way through projects designed for education and justice empowerment, football matches attended by seven hundred community members, countless handshakes and smiles, soaking in the beauty of the land and the reality of the people.
We wish you peace and love,
Prior to my father's arrival, I warned my friends and colleagues that he would, as he is want to do, cry. A lot. And cry he did! I must admit, it would have been hard not to as the welcomes that he received in Bethlehem, at the pitch with the whole team, at Kyotera Town Secondary School - bright eyes, all trained on the muzzae and his every move - hands rythmically clapping and feet, bare and pink and pounding the ground into dusty, sparkling ether -- the swinging hips and sweaty faces, open mouths and singing voices -- all were working their hearts out to put on a show for the muzzae. I was so proud of them all and so proud to introduce them to my father.
Through laughter, broken Luganda, tears, handshakes, hugs and shy greetings this community has opened their hearts and their homes to us -- they have taken my father as their own, often calling him "Papa Paul" or "The Father" (which I have assured him does NOT mean that he is on the same level with God...we'll see if his head gets to big!)-- he doesn't seem to mind.
As we prepare for our Board Meeting to plan the next year of Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace programming, my father has the beginning of an understanding as to the scope of the work and the potential impact our small organization can make in this community. He keeps saying, "a little goes a long way" and I couldn't agree more. Leading by examples, my friends, daughters, and colleagues have proven that this last week -- with relative little in the way of resources (think: shoes and soda, money and materials) each place we have visited has given us a welcome overwhelming in both in joy and in plenty. Our meeting should be very productive as the Uganda Board is eager to further develop our initiatives and serve this worthy community and these derserving people.
After getting down to business this past week, I will let my father have a couple of days of relaxation as we continue to experience other parts of the country -- first a safari in Queen Elizabeth National Park and the the River Nile. There is no way to prepare oneself (let alone anotehr being) for what we are about to see -- nature and history, power and devestation, animals and horizons, peoples and art. The journey of the muzzae and his daughter continues as we work our way through projects designed for education and justice empowerment, football matches attended by seven hundred community members, countless handshakes and smiles, soaking in the beauty of the land and the reality of the people.
We wish you peace and love,
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Buyamba and Bethlehem: Blessings from my Second Home
I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been away for a looong weekend in the USA and now I’ve picked up where I left off – it is strange to come to a place that I have only lived in for one year total and greet people, the majority of whom I have known less than a full year – and to feel like I’m coming to a place that is home to me and that I am returning to a people who are my family.
Before I left the US, Barbara and I talked about how big our family is and how fortunate we are to have many places where we feel at home – Brooklyn, Budapest, Connecticut, Ohio, Uganda…When I stepped off the plane I left my seat companion (a lovely gentleman coming to Uganda for the first time for a conference on post-conflict development who didn’t tease me too much about my snoring) with these words, ‘You’ve said that it is such a long flight here, but you will be shocked at what a short flight back it is.’ The distance between here and there, between seemingly disparate worlds is so small, yet the miles are as full of hunger, under education, joblessness, corruption, damaging gender hierarchies, rampant disease and countless orphans as they full of ocean, and land masses, and clouds and blue sky.
When I left Kampala, I collected two women from Iganga (far Eastern Uganda) who run a widow’s group that earns income from a beadsmaking project – they came with me to Kyotera and onto Buyamba to conduct a technical training with the Beadmaking, Schoolbound group of orphans at the school – Glory of Christ – that Barbara and I began the beadmaking project at last April. We were greeted with shouts of joy (eh yi yi yi yi eh) that came from brown faces glowing and pink lips parted to reveal sparkling white smiles as big as the continent. After dancing (yes, I broke out my now-restored Bugandan kabina (big butt) and shook it until the rust of my hip joints wore away and the music brought me home to myself) and the food! Oh, the food! Akusa, Robina and I then got to work. The results of these ladies who took a chance traveling to a place they had never been, with a muzungu (me!) they had never met – cannot be understated. I will be returning home with beaded bags, belts and jewelry each piece as beautiful as the child who handcrafted it. (Please stay tuned for an email about an upcoming Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace fundraising event)
After seeing Akusa and Robina (who insist on coming back in two months, spending their own time and money to check-in on children they referred to as ‘their hungry babies of Buyamba’) off to Kampala and then Iganga, I traveled to Bethlehem. Ahhhhh, bug exhale and joyful smile – I’m going to see my daughters. As my hair blew behind me and my eyes were trained on the horizon, I kept urging the boda boda driver (the ‘taxi’ of most developing countries – a motorcycle or bike (in Luganda – pici pici) with a seat behind the driver) to ‘genda mangu’ or ‘go faster’ because ‘Njja kulabba abawalla bange’ – I’m going to see my girls. He laughed and stepped on it and at the entrance of the orphanage compound ‘my’ girls, along with three hundred other students and teachers, were singing, smiling and stamping the dusty ground, keeping time to the joy and measuring our collective heartbeats.
Now, I’ve never given birth, and held in my arms a child that I created (short of cuddling our dog Ben and pronouncing him ‘my smelly baby boy’ at least once a day) so I don’t have a literal compassion to make, not can I base my findings on fact or logic, but when I met the eyes of my footballers, smiling through tears and touched their outstretched arms and hands – when I was catching little girl bodies – all arms, and legs and heads – as they leapt off the ground to me – I couldn’t have felt a stronger connection to their hearts, their smells, the bumps and scars that map their arms and legs, their blood and sweat, their tears of relief and of happiness and the questions lingering in those droplets and in their little girl minds – than if I had given birth to each of them. I know some folks reading this may disagree, but for these girls, I have the love that a parent has for a child…multiplied by endlessness. In the moments when we were hugging away the pain of the months of separation, I realized that during my time in America, while I re-learned, remembered, and re-created a full and amazing life, I though about these girls, worried over injuries and dentist visits, monitored school and team progress, lost hours of sleep wondering how I was going to send all of them to university in eight years or so (to which Barb would generously and sleepily say ‘Of course we’ll figure it out. Go back to bed you crazy lady.’) – I ached for my girls. And there we were – together singing, dancing (always dancing!), eating and training.
The team has gained a great deal of notoriety from the Federation of Uganda Football Association (FUFA) and when I arrived in Bethlehem, I was also greeted by a member of the Ugandan National Women’s Team, the She Cobs. She had volunteered the last to months and was training the girls, along with their regular coach, Kasekende. My girls are real balers now – through their dedication and efforts and bravery, they are single-handedly changing the way young ladies are thought of in their community and beyond.
As I write this from Kampala, the capital city, awaiting the arrival of my father – I am eager to show him this place and these people and for him to have his own journey towards a larger family and a bigger definition of home. I am ready to put him to work as we have multiple meeting for Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace lined up – his perspective and presence will certainly be welcomed by my colleagues and invaluable to us all. And of course, I can’t wait to introduce him to the children of Buyamba and to his granddaughters in Bethlehem – blessings both.
Before I left the US, Barbara and I talked about how big our family is and how fortunate we are to have many places where we feel at home – Brooklyn, Budapest, Connecticut, Ohio, Uganda…When I stepped off the plane I left my seat companion (a lovely gentleman coming to Uganda for the first time for a conference on post-conflict development who didn’t tease me too much about my snoring) with these words, ‘You’ve said that it is such a long flight here, but you will be shocked at what a short flight back it is.’ The distance between here and there, between seemingly disparate worlds is so small, yet the miles are as full of hunger, under education, joblessness, corruption, damaging gender hierarchies, rampant disease and countless orphans as they full of ocean, and land masses, and clouds and blue sky.
When I left Kampala, I collected two women from Iganga (far Eastern Uganda) who run a widow’s group that earns income from a beadsmaking project – they came with me to Kyotera and onto Buyamba to conduct a technical training with the Beadmaking, Schoolbound group of orphans at the school – Glory of Christ – that Barbara and I began the beadmaking project at last April. We were greeted with shouts of joy (eh yi yi yi yi eh) that came from brown faces glowing and pink lips parted to reveal sparkling white smiles as big as the continent. After dancing (yes, I broke out my now-restored Bugandan kabina (big butt) and shook it until the rust of my hip joints wore away and the music brought me home to myself) and the food! Oh, the food! Akusa, Robina and I then got to work. The results of these ladies who took a chance traveling to a place they had never been, with a muzungu (me!) they had never met – cannot be understated. I will be returning home with beaded bags, belts and jewelry each piece as beautiful as the child who handcrafted it. (Please stay tuned for an email about an upcoming Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace fundraising event)
After seeing Akusa and Robina (who insist on coming back in two months, spending their own time and money to check-in on children they referred to as ‘their hungry babies of Buyamba’) off to Kampala and then Iganga, I traveled to Bethlehem. Ahhhhh, bug exhale and joyful smile – I’m going to see my daughters. As my hair blew behind me and my eyes were trained on the horizon, I kept urging the boda boda driver (the ‘taxi’ of most developing countries – a motorcycle or bike (in Luganda – pici pici) with a seat behind the driver) to ‘genda mangu’ or ‘go faster’ because ‘Njja kulabba abawalla bange’ – I’m going to see my girls. He laughed and stepped on it and at the entrance of the orphanage compound ‘my’ girls, along with three hundred other students and teachers, were singing, smiling and stamping the dusty ground, keeping time to the joy and measuring our collective heartbeats.
Now, I’ve never given birth, and held in my arms a child that I created (short of cuddling our dog Ben and pronouncing him ‘my smelly baby boy’ at least once a day) so I don’t have a literal compassion to make, not can I base my findings on fact or logic, but when I met the eyes of my footballers, smiling through tears and touched their outstretched arms and hands – when I was catching little girl bodies – all arms, and legs and heads – as they leapt off the ground to me – I couldn’t have felt a stronger connection to their hearts, their smells, the bumps and scars that map their arms and legs, their blood and sweat, their tears of relief and of happiness and the questions lingering in those droplets and in their little girl minds – than if I had given birth to each of them. I know some folks reading this may disagree, but for these girls, I have the love that a parent has for a child…multiplied by endlessness. In the moments when we were hugging away the pain of the months of separation, I realized that during my time in America, while I re-learned, remembered, and re-created a full and amazing life, I though about these girls, worried over injuries and dentist visits, monitored school and team progress, lost hours of sleep wondering how I was going to send all of them to university in eight years or so (to which Barb would generously and sleepily say ‘Of course we’ll figure it out. Go back to bed you crazy lady.’) – I ached for my girls. And there we were – together singing, dancing (always dancing!), eating and training.
The team has gained a great deal of notoriety from the Federation of Uganda Football Association (FUFA) and when I arrived in Bethlehem, I was also greeted by a member of the Ugandan National Women’s Team, the She Cobs. She had volunteered the last to months and was training the girls, along with their regular coach, Kasekende. My girls are real balers now – through their dedication and efforts and bravery, they are single-handedly changing the way young ladies are thought of in their community and beyond.
As I write this from Kampala, the capital city, awaiting the arrival of my father – I am eager to show him this place and these people and for him to have his own journey towards a larger family and a bigger definition of home. I am ready to put him to work as we have multiple meeting for Genda Mirembe/Go In Peace lined up – his perspective and presence will certainly be welcomed by my colleagues and invaluable to us all. And of course, I can’t wait to introduce him to the children of Buyamba and to his granddaughters in Bethlehem – blessings both.
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