It’s funny how much more I appreciate electricity when I only have it about 65.8% of the time. Being able to read in the evenings or charge your phone become novelties. But there is amazing beauty in the night sky when there isn’t any light pollution and when you take the time to look up. On a clear night with no electricity I like pulling a mat outside and laying on my back to fully enjoy the milky way (not to be confused with the candy). The stars seem 10 times brighter here and there seem to be twice as many of them. It’s on these nights that I wish I had paid better attention in my astronomy class.
Now that the rainy season has begun, I don’t often lay out in the evenings because I’d rather have my shower indoors than out. Evenings seem to be the prime time for rain storms here which, naturally, means that cloud cover will not allow me to star gaze. I do, however, find great joy in watching lightning play in the clouds, occasionally darting to earth. On these evenings I stand in my doorway under the grass thatch and revel in yet another beauty that God’s creation contains.
Peace,
eh

Today was our termly visitation day for parents. There are three terms in a year and each term we only have one day when parents can come and visit their girls. Lately it seems like we have had a problem of girls escaping from school and running to who knows where. I think they run away because they miss their parents. But that is besides the point.

Visitation day is a chance for parents to come and get their daughter's progress reports and to sit in the shade for an hour or more and chat. Parents also bring things like money, sugar, acholi peanut butter (odii), and various other snacks that girls can't get in school.

The school population is large to begin with and it swells incredibly on visitation days. Parents and students are under every possible patch of shade and kids run around on the compound like they own it. These are the days when I choose to stay in my hut or in the staff room. While I love the students, I don't love the fact that parents and younger siblings aren't used to my presence and stare at me like I might disappear before their very eyes (which hasn't happened yet). Maybe one day I'll be used to the stares but that day will probably be the day I leave to return to the states...
peace,
eh

The rainy season has delayed in coming and yet people remain hopeful. In February they claimed the beginning of March would be saturating us. In the beginning of March people predicted that March 15th would be wet. When March 15th rolled around and there was still no rain, scholars stated that by the beginning of Spring, March 21st, we would be trodding in mud. For days clouds have gathered and taunted us and then blown away. But tonight…tonight clouds are here to dump their blessings on us.

Electricity has been off and on for a month now. Today it decided to take the whole day off (naturally today our generator chose not to work). So I’m writing this by lamp light in my hut. As I write I am distracted by thunder that would rattle my window panes if I had them. And of course lightning. Oh how Marvelous! It seems as if we are encircled by clouds that are rubbing against each other and making the most beautiful light of all: lightning.

I love lightning storms, and whenever I see them I am reminded of the time my dad and I spent watching an Iowa lightning storm soon before I left for college. We sat on our porch and enjoyed the bolts of lightning as each one tore through the sky, on a ragged journey. I’m so thankful that one of nature’s phenomenons could connect my heart to a wonderful memory of time spent with my dad.
Stop and watch.
Peace,
eh

Being a teacher anywhere in the world is noble in my opinion, by being a teacher in Uganda/East Africa is especially noble. The daily challenges that teachers here face is astounding and quite frankly staggering for me, a young, white, female from the land of plenty where it’s outrageous to have a class of 35 students. The class size in both primary and secondary schools can range anywhere from 65-102 in on classroom (60 per teacher is the ideal class size here). Don’t even get me started on the grading the teachers do daily (imagine grading a daily exercise in a class of over 100…oh and you’re teaching three of those classes!). Both of these challenges pale when compared to staff meetings though.
The staff meetings happen 2-4 times a term depending on their necessity and they are painful to sit through. So painful, in fact, that during the primary school’s 1st staff meeting I actually had to stand up after having sat for 7 hours! A staff meeting will be called a day before it is to take place. All staff will be strongly encouraged to be timely so we can start the meeting as scheduled. If the start time is set for 9am you can safely assume that people will begin rolling in around 9:30 or 10:00 and we will get started around 10:30 or 11:00. The first order of business is to sit quietly and not speak too loud for fear of the head teacher “barking” at you. You’ll probably receive a cup of African tea and 2 pieces of bread with margarine just barely holding them together. This is breakfast and is supposed to motivate teachers to show up on time. The only problem is they don’t begin serving until everyone is there anyway.
As people begin eating, the meeting will be formally called to order by the chairperson, aka the head teacher. An agenda will be given verbally or in writing and we proceed to talk about what we’re going to talk about. Only when we, the members, have all agreed that the agenda is okay will we proceed. Next we all quietly sip on over-sugared tea while the secretary reads the previous minutes (which, by the way, we all have in front of us). After a somewhat painful reading of the minutes we move to new business.
Usually the new business consists of reports from various departments (or not if no one bothered to prepare) and/or the chairperson. After each report there is a time for reactions and decision making if need be. Usually 3 or 4 people will say the same thing (almost word for word) during any given reaction time. Because of the formality with which we carry out staff meetings, each person speaking begins, “Thank you madam chairperson, deputy head teachers, and my fellow teaching staff…” This continual thanking of everyone in the room contributes enormously to the long meetings.
After all is said and reacted on and decisions are all made, we break for lunch (at 3:00), during which many teachers discuss new decisions and how they don’t think any of them will be implemented soon. Such is the nature of a Ugandan staff meeting: something I won’t miss upon my return to the U.S.
Peace,
eh

Seriously, travelling in Uganda should be considered a job and every traveller should get paid for the inconvenience. When you take public transportation you never know who you'll end up sitting next to or what you'll be holding on your lap by the end of the journey. You cold be sitting between two people: one, a woman who is sweating profusely, smells strongly of BO and refuses to open the window because of the dust. Oh and did I mention she has her arm nearest you draped across the back of her seat, giving you a full and uninterrupted whif of her "aroma" everytime you breath in. Oh, and she's wiping that very pit with the hanky that she's also using for her face...
On the other side you have another woman (or maybe a fat man) but she has 3 kids, 2 chickens and a pineapple with her. While one child sits in the aisle, and one on her lap, you're asked to hold the third. No problem. As the trip continues you hear the squawk of the 2 chickens under the seat and feel the pineapple rolling around at your feet. Just as you're getting "comfortable" you feel your lap get uncommonly warm...the child on your lap looks sheepishly at you as the mother scholds him for peeing on a white person (at the same time trying to tell you that it's considered a blessing here when someone urinates on you). Now you're hot, wet, smell like urine, and your lungs are still being filled to the bring with some lady's pit odor. Could it get any worse?
Up ahead is a particularly bumpy part of the road and as the driver is bearing down on it you begin to pray that you'll make it home alive and in one piece. As the bus hits the rough patch of road you realize why no one else sat in this seat: there is some sort of spring crashing into your tail bone at every bump. Just as you begin to thank your lucky stars that you made it over that section of the road you hear a very distinct "bang" and the bus slows to a stop at the side of the road. You roll your eyes at the chances of having a flat tire to top of this wild ride and as you look around you notice that no one else really cares about this change of events. After some minutes of tinking around, the bus driver gets back on the bus and informs everyone that we were driving on a spare tire and don't have another so we'll have to put people in the taxis that are passing. Because you're white you get squashed in to the first taxi that comes along and is willing to add another couple people. Now you are sitting between a very sick man and the stick shift of the taxi. You begin to feel a little violated everytime the driver shifts but it really can't be helped. As you go on your way you glance at the speedometer of the car, curious to see how many kilometers per hour your taxi is cruising. You aren't that surprised to find that the needle is dancing between 20 and 60kph. Oh well, you think, we're probably going about 40.
9 hours after you loaded the bus in Kampala you coast into the bus park in kitgum (coasting because the brakes are out and any acceleration could be fatal at this point). As you get out of the taxi you bend to the dirty earth of the bus park and are tempted to kiss it but knowing your luck you'd probably get Hepatitis E (common in Northern Uganda) so you think better of kissing the ground.
Peace,
eh
*Disclaimer: While this particular story is not at all true, there are bits and pieces that are true and just combined together into one delightful (and not at all far-fetched) story.