The Face of AIDS...

As a disclaimer, please know I struggle posting the blog. I fear words and situations contained may affirm certain individuals theory Africa is a “backwards” continent that should be left to fend for itself in the “mess they have created”. This is not a notion I support or encourage and all that is expressed below is simply my honest and true emotions for the moment, and perhaps since it's a present emotion posting may be viewed as irresponsible, I don't know, but I feel compelled to post. I feel it is important for us all to increase our awareness of the many realities in life that exist beyond our borders. The ones rarely in print or shown on the nightly news. If something is offensive please forgive me, I am simply being honest in the moment, and right now that is all I know how to be.

Working at TASO has been good so far, nothing too spectacular but at least it’s something. I have been assigned to follow a counselor named Moses. My first day was spent sitting in his stuffy 8x10 office listening to him counsel clients in Luganda only to receive a brief summary of the conversation at the end of the session. He’s a nice guy, but my frustration with the language barrier continues to grow as I feel it’s a MAJOR stopping block in achieving anything of worthwhile while I am here. I know, I know, something will happen, even if it’s not what I expect. It is just hard wanting to do so much or learn so much and I feel like my potential is limited by someone’s willingness and ability to accurately translate. I realize mentoring someone or having someone shadow you is extremely time consuming as there are many questions that often bog down the individuals daily work routine, but sitting silent hoping an opportunity drops in my lap is not an option either.

Prior to coming to Africa I knew little about AIDS, I still know very little. The past two days I spent in counseling sessions, one in the office, one in the field, a refrain played in my head…The face of AIDS takes many shapes. I have found myself wrestling through a number of emotions and judgments that take me by surprise. I am ashamed by some and confident in others.

In the clinic, Day 1.
The first client today, a male, 47 but looked 60 with salt and pepper hair, a dirty dress shirt, a maroon blazer 2 sizes too large, and a scruffy beard. He seemed complacent of his plight, uncaring, apathetic. His CD4 level has dropped below the 250 threshold required, allowing him to qualify for free Anti-retroviral (ARV) treatment from TASO. His CD4 count, 164 (click here to learn more about CD4 since I'm unable to break it down clearly). Fiddling with an empty mug, the man gazed out the window, eyes following anything that passed by, while Moses explained the side effects of the ARV's. Part of me was angered watching him. I perceived him to view the session as a waste of time... perhaps it was for him... and maybe for us... but Moses pressed on.

The second client, a woman, age 56, full of grace and poise. She looked very dignified sitting on the other side of the desk in her traditional garb and head wrap. She was frail, but the puffy shoulders of her dress hid her bones well and if she hadn't moved once to adjust her wrap I would not have seen her protruding bones in her chest and neck. It was unclear whether the woman's partner had died or left her, either way she was alone, moving through the process of living a positive life alone.

Next, a mother and child, the boy, 11 years old. From a distance he appeared to have a pigment disorder on every part of his exposed body – yet, upon a closer examination they were sores, pink in color and I’m left to conclude they cover his entire body. I’ve seen a number of clients with similar bumps/sores. I’m told this is a common attribute of positive patients. The mothers’ eyes welled, though refusing to shed a tear as she told of the torment the boy faces at school every day as the kids make fun of him because he is positive… the pink dots confirm this. The mother said she hasn’t found the strength to tell her son of his status so she has not. Exiting the room, she shut the door behind her, the silence was thick as the boy hung his head and spoke softly, hiding the plethora of pink dots covering his face. The boy told Moses that while his mother had not told him his confirmed status, he knows. Inside, in his heart he knows of his fate. My heart sank.

The face of AIDS takes many shapes and is unjust.

In the nursery a girl laid crying making no sound or shedding a tear. Only once before have I witnessed such a site. When in Sierra Leone I saw a terribly malnourished child who physically was screaming and crying hysterically, yet her body was too weak to produce a sound or shed a tear. And here in the clinic, another; she was so small. Not small like a newborn but smaller in a different way. She had only flesh covering her bones and the skeletal structure of her head and face were visible through her tight skin. From her length I would guess she was about one or two, but I would be hard pressed to bet she weighed more than 9 pounds. The woman tending to her appeared to be her grandmother; I suspect her mothers’ life had been claimed by this disease.

I struggle understanding the mentality here surrounding the disease. Perhaps culturally there is a lack of emotion, or people really feel as they appear… to not care and thus, I have yet to find empathy looking at a life wasting away to a disease that in most cases could have been avoided by life choices. I fear writing this statement and sending it out as I don’t want to affirm some people’s notion that AIDS is a disease of choice and “these people” are choosing to be ignorant so let them die… but as I have tried to do all along, I want to be real in sharing my thoughts and emotions as the journey continues here in Uganda.

Looking at the kids, the ones who have made no choice and had no voice, my heart fills with bitter sorrow and rage. Perhaps this is when people say life is not fair, but I fail to see the point in living a life of agony, pain and suffering, but, not being the giver of life this is not a determination for me to make.

In the field, Day 2:
I traveled to Kiwangala (pronounced Chawangela) village today. It is about an hour out of Masaka, down a bumpy dirt road. Shortly after arriving I found myself surrounded by snot nosed, phlegm coughing kids. The counselor was leading a session for the kids while their parents participated in the adult sessions.
Counselor: What does AIDS do?
Kids: Kills
C: How did you get it?
K: From your parents.
The counselor moved on talking about the importance of healthy food and taking their medicine. A mother made her way down the hill to drop off her little girl, then turned and walked back up the hill for her counseling session. Squatting as if perched like a bird, the young girl, in a torn and dirty yellow satin dress refused to consider the stuffed animals and snacks, but instead, stared up the hill, eyes fixed on her mother as a steady stream of tears fell. She made no sound, just longingly cried. I tried to console the small girl in the torn dress, lace all affray but no comfort was found. My mind wondered and heart sank low recalling the same longing look and cascade of silent tears as my mother’s casket was lowered into the ground.

I cannot imagine a life where death is such a common occurrence, is accepted and simply part of daily existence. I am not naive and certainly understand the course of life, but having seen the two sides of death I am perplexed with the delicacy surrounding death in the U.S. verses the “deal with it and move on” mentality I have witnessed in Sierra Leone and now here.

Are we too sheltered in the U.S. from the many realities of the world, or are we afforded the luxury of fearing death, morning the dead and fighting for life when the doctor spends 20 minutes beating around the bush only to tell us we’re dying? Here, plain faced, in 2 seconds flat I’ve seen people learn their HIV status is positive, options are laid out, they are told they will most certainly die from the disease and that’s that, the individual walks away, showing no emotion, knowing of their impending death to return to their unfinished chores and tasks bidding for their attention before sunset.

Two people at outreach were too weak to stand or walk on their own. I fought not to stare as my mind raced, if I give them a drink of my water or a bite of my lunch would the nutrients sustain them through their visit? Few locals paid much attention to the weak and the medical professionals paid no attention at all…back to the question… is my reaction due to a sheltering, a luxury of not being surrounded by death daily.

Perhaps my inquisitive nature is getting the best of me as I wonder what it is like to have sex and wonder if this will be the time you become infected with the disease. How can one find pleasure in something intended to be such a beautiful exchange when such a disease is lurking in the midst? Perhaps it never crosses their minds, or maybe no one cares since AIDS seems to be unavoidable when you’re surrounded by it… like a great rain cloud moving in. You know the rains are about to begin, it’s simply a matter of when.

Tomorrow is my birthday, the big 28. I have been given many luxuries and blessings in life... for this I am grateful. However, this awareness won't change the reality that luxuries are afforded to those born in certain locations by no choice of their own. What can I do to make change for all those born into a world of pain and death?

A starry eyed boy said "Praise God"

I went to Compassion International this weekend to work with Esther. All the kids arrive in their Compassion uniforms... most tattered and torn but worn with pride....

I took with me a bag of donations, a mixture of pencils, paper, crayons, learning flash cards... and of course - a shiny new soccer ball. When walking outside with it I passed a little boy - wide eyed and opened mouth who softly said "praise God" as his eyes watched the ball in passing... I smiled and told him to come on...

I went out and threw it to one of the goalies who was previously fixated on the small red ball they used for their soccer ball... but now... the children erupted in a sea of cheers and took off running down the hill to the real football field. When it was time for classes to begin, running up the hill, holding the ball as a treasured prize they returned it to me. Surprised... I stood there and watched the smiling kids run in the building. I walked around, thought a bit, and an hour later at break time a hoard of kids were around me... I wasn't quite sure for what but I enjoyed walking surrounded by them. Suddenly - I had a moment of clarity - the futobl... I said - do you want to play with the futbol (which was simply sitting in a plastic chair unattended about 10 yards away) "Yes, yes" they screamed... I said go get it and they cheered as they took off running to grab it and race back down the to the field again.
Kids playing with a red ball around the size of a soft ball... this was their soccer ball...

Kids with new soccer ball

A group of kids at Compassion International

Girls at Compassion International

Esther invited me to a friend's wedding. I thought it was a wedding such as we know it. We left at 4 for an event that said it was to start at 2...interesting.... We arrived at 4:30 and the event had yet to begin. I soon discovered this was not the wedding - but the reception. The ceremony was quite different from ours... like when they cut the cake - the woman gets on her knees and feeds her husband... um no.... I told Esther that'd not fly in the states - she said a woman kneels to greet her husband every day - hmmm... The cake was a dry fruit cake with 1/4 inch thick frosting that was about twice the sweetness of ours but hard, as if it was a month old.
So Ruth cannot hold a camera straight up and down and I look SO much bigger than I am in this dress... it's funny how uncomfortable I was in it... not only because it's extremely cumbersome and hard to walk in and it made locals stare at me even more... but just looking down and feeling bad about the way I looked... oh well...

Esther and me

Wow am I FULL...

Sitting here at Frickadelle (what's new) and after chowing down on a large bowl of spaghetti I learned they have fruit bowls! What?!?!?!?! So, for the equivalent of $2.50 I just managed to put down an 8" bowl FILLED with pineapple, papaya, watermelon, banana, passion fruit, ice cream AND chocolate chunks - YUM!!!!

So - since I always write about Frickadelle, please check out the work all the profits of my eating help support... http://www.childcaredenmark.dk/index.php (in the "About Us" section - those people are still here and have ANOTHER baby - a month old.... I couldn't imagine having a baby out of the US. When I was at Marie Stopes when they were talking to women about to give labor they encouraged them to go buy all their own supplies in the event there was a shortage at the hospital... going with your own razor blade, gloves, bed sheet, alcohol... wow!

Anyhow - I have a NEW placement! I have been placed at TASO - a primarily AIDS organization (http://www.tasouganda.org/) I am not exactly sure what my time there will look like but from what I hear, after the first week or two of orientation I can expect to spend Monday/Tuesday in the clinic working with Women on reproductive health issues, Wednesdays floating around, Thursday/Friday in the field learning about health systems and what health delivery looks in practice. The manager also expressed a need to grow the youth program because... there is a GREAT need to talk to the youth about the IMPORTANCE of condom use - yet as I touched upon in an earlier blog - there is a fear that talking to youth about condom use will condone sexual behavior instead of produce educated kids that have the necessary information to make safe decisions when they come to a point in their life when they choose to participate in sex. So we'll see... lots of opportunity from what it sounds like. I just pray I can live up to their expectations and that my eyes and ears will be open to the perfect project/program to implement in my remaining 2 months...
Sunrise 4/24/2009

A flower in the grass on my walk this morning

A child at Nazareth Orphanage

Who am I to complain?

Walking ever so carefully, the edges of my skirt ripple in front of me as if dancing with the wind. More often than not my walks through town are surreal and snapshot moments happen that could be from a film.

I feel as if my life is on hold while in this distant land, traipsing the vibrant landscape almost aimlessly though with purpose. The days and nights are in slow motion and all that happens quickly are emotional highs and lows.

The vibrant colors continue to mesmerize me, as I fill my spare time sitting under a trellis of vines and magenta flowers.

I am bored and currently overly disappointed.

I feel foolish.

Perhaps one of the biggest things I am struggling with is feeling like if this experience does not pan out to all that I had hoped, does this mean I have been wrong all these years about my calling and passion and line of work… or does it simply mean that moving to Africa for 3 months is not something I am willing to do again in my future employment situations?

I'm quite tired of being asked why I haven't had babies yet, why I left my husband at home, why I'm fat in some pictures and not in others (apparently in showing pictures of the last 3 years to locals I'm fat in some and now I'm skinny...).

I have been at work for a very short six days now, and in that time I have watched a Norplant (birth control mechanism) removal, 15 people get tested for HIV/AIDS, counseled 2 women on the different family planning choices and spent the rest of the 5 ½ days simply sitting there in the waiting room watching the minutes pass.
I am hopeful I will be able to head to the field in the near future but there are some bureaucracy issues that need to be addressed and until they do I’m out of work… hoping to be back by next Monday.

My toes are glowing courtesy of the polish my host sister purchased on my behalf. I asked for pink or purple… perhaps I should have been a bit more specific.

Possibly one of the many things adding to my state of frustration is that all this down time and slow pace affords much time for self analysis and reflection; maybe, that which disturbs me about the silence, so too bothers me about the lack of a hurried pace.

Regarding silence, I have come to embrace the theory that we as humans are afraid of silence, though some may argue… and if that’s the case, I will accept this theory only applies to me. For I have discovered it is in the silence that one finds themselves engulfed in thoughts, thoughts that sound often drown out.

For I sit in the silence…existing in silence…and this silence has welled up deafening thoughts; thoughts and emotions of anger, frustration and bitter sorrow which all too often result in no solace and only add to the existing thoughts and emotions and overall frustration.

I sit here, miles from all that brings me comfort and contemplate an eloquent way to express this pressure and I have tried to skillfully choose words and metaphors that would bring me satisfaction opposed to resentment as a result of mulling over the same things again and again.

Yet it appears once again that my efforts and desires to achieve such an outcome is unattainable and I fear these musings will too make you grow tired and weary…pushing you further away from a shared experience and driving one to conclude I enjoy wallowing in my discomfort.

Who am I to complain? For in less than 70 days I will return to all that is comfortable and aside from starting the rat race for a job, all will be fine.

The depravity and the devastation here is more than I could bear to live in for the rest of my life...the "backward" way in which everything operates and the corruption is thick... yet even the locals have hope and are joyful...

Patience.

Perspective shift.

It's hard balancing the right to have emotions and knowing how unbelievabely blessed I am... and pondering entitlement of my blessing... like why I was born an Americaan and not an African. By no doing of my own I was born into more privlidge... I could spend hours pondering this delemia.

Who am I to complain?



The view from I am currently writing


Purple toes


You want me to go to the bathroom where????

Just call me McGiver...

So I thought I was really tan the other day then became quite disgusted when I realized my tan wiped off

Walking through the market on my quest for a ripe Ova (Luganda for Avocado) I stepped on a board that created a path over a large chasm and the board snapped and I somehow caught myself

Two nights ago Megan and I wanted some wine and the place we were eating didn't sell any... so started on our quest for some dry white wine (since all the wine here is warm dry is better than sweet because warm sweet wine is like syrup). After trying unsuccessfully at 5 places we ended up at "Friendly's bar". The owner took us all over town trying to find a place that sold bottles of wine. As we were approaching what would be called a sidewalk, there was this large cement square... part of me said don't step on it right as I did... sure enough the thing came flipping up and Fred (the owner of Friendly's) quickly reached out and caught me as my right leg was half way down a manhole... thank goodness for the quick reflexes of a short Ugandan man.

I gave my host sister money to buy me varnish (nail polish) and remover so I don't get ripped off... we'll see what color she picked for me. I was joking today that in all this down time I think I've been more manicured in the 17 days I've been in Africa than I have in the last year... my nails are nicely trimmed, eyebrows shaped, feet scrubbed daily - hmm.... could this be a positive about Uganda?

Freckles here are called pimples and if you drink just warm water they ask if you have the flu... If you feel ill the immediate thought is Malaria and if it turns out to not be Malaria then you have the flu :)~

I was at church today - the kids stared less today than last week as I sat in the plastic yard chair on the dirt floor under the scorching sheet metal roof. I was fanning myself as the heat radiated down...looking over I questioned how the locals could possibly be sitting with their 3 piece suits, long sleeve shirts and sweaters... I felt I was getting a contact tan from the heat.

Speaking of tanning... the notion of a tan or wanting a tan is a totally foreign concept. I've tried explaining to my family I want to even my tan lines out so that's the good thing about having like 65 days left here to fix the funky lines I already have in these few days... but the idea about wanting to be darker is too far of a concept to capture.

I purchased a loaf of bread the other day - I thought it'd be a better choice than the ginger cookies to serve as a vehicle to my belly for the peanut butter... After embracing the idea the loaf was hard as a rock and about 5 lbs... I opened the package to find a dead fly smashed to the heel - appetizing.

I almost passed out at work on Friday - the manager came in and was insistent that I watch the removal of a birth control implant. About an hour before the procedure my head started to hurt badly, from the back of my head, up my jaw to the top of my head... Entering the exam room I focused on trying to figure out why my head/jaw was hurting so bad. After giving local anesthesia in the woman's under arm, out comes the blade and tongs... I tried not to look - glancing over once to see what was far too graphic to write... all turned black... knees buckled as I excused myself to sit outside... after a short time outside I removed the headband I was wearing that was extremely tight and immediately felt the symptoms and ailments disappear... perhaps I'll try watching another one to confirm the near fainting episode was in fact due to the overly tight headband.

I spent a lot of time on Friday at work in the Lab watching Geofery do HIV/AIDS testing. Quite a primitive procedure in terms of the technology they have and use... again - amazing at what can be done when people work with what they have. One very interesting and perplexing thing to me was that oral and anal sex was not discussed as a mode of transmission and condoms were only distributed if the client asked for them... so of course I offered them like crazy :~)

And for the record - after a unanimous vote - Frickadelly has the BEST BATHROOM in Masaka! So much so that it's worth the wait (I know... too much info)...

Armed with Duck Tape and Safety Pins...Just call me McGuiver...

When a friend of mine recommended I bring duck tape to Africa I must admit I thought it was a bit overboard considering how many other items I was bringing... but of course, I packed it anyway.

When unpacking my room contemplating how I was going to unpack all my items... like socks and hair accessories I was a bit stumped... then... like a light bulb over McGiver's head when he used chewing gum to fix the broken car, my eyes focused on the safety pins. Next thing you know I'm making pouches out of fabric and hanging them from the clothing bar in my room.

Last night I woke to sprinkles of water on my face. Seeing as how few things surprise me anymore in Africa it took me a minute to assess the situation. As my eyes and ears came to focus I realized the rain once again had come, this time with much fury. The winds howled as the doors and windows in the house clanked. With the wind came sideways rain that of course came right through into my room (windows are just bars and a screen). Next thing you know it's 3:30am and I am ripping pieces of duck tape and applying them to my towels, strategically taping them to my wall to serve as a barrier from the pounding rain. By the time I had finished the water had come into my room so much that my books were damaged, papers flooded, 1/2 my bed wet... guess that counts as my shower :)~

Little kids outside Frikadelly waiting for church to finish

Perspectives from a 16 year old

(verbatim letter from the house girl in my house)
---
Dated 17th April 2009

Hey Jossie.

How are you, I think that you're fine and every - think is going fine. The reason why I wanted to talk to you yesterday was that, Firstly, I want to apologise for not giving you my company simply because I don't get enough time to speak with you through I like to speak with you cause am always busy like a bee in a bee-hive. When I get a spare time, I could use it for reading or revising books, writting or noting some notes or I could use it for rest cause sometimes I do get so tired.

Secondly, but not last, I wanted you to get for me a sponsor and my two little siblings or to get for us sponsors. You know, I want to leave this place and go to be with my family cause I really miss all the three of them. Besides, in my family, we are only four children, we are two girls and two boys.

The reason why I want I want you to get for me a sponsor is, I want to get enough time to revise my books cause in early June this year am gonna do my final exams for my first year and you know they are so tough especially typing using a type writer and shorthand. I also want to be with someone who can understand, support and love me as my parents would have done if they were alive. It is sad, bad and painful cause I lost both of them. My mother died when I was a little girl of three years and my daddy died when I was eleven years, I was left with my three siblings, Mathias (the elder one), Me (the second born), Fred (the third born and is eleven years now), Prassie (the last born, is now nine years). This two little ones were born by my step mom but unfortunetly, she died also.

I do appreciate whatever Favor's mom is doing for me because is the one who is responsible for paying my fees bill but now I would like to get a sponsor who can sponsor me financially, medically and basically in all I need and other two sponsors who can sponsor Fred and Prossie cause I want them to study more and learn how to speak and write english very well because they are studying in a village which is so deep. In deep villages, there are poor qualities of education, if you get for us sponsors, I would like to take them in privat eschools so that they can acquire a good quality of education. I also promise to take you in my village to see my family after getting for us sponsors.

If you see that you and your family can help one of us, I ask you please to help or if you know someone in your country who can help us, I beg you to consult him or her or any orginization.

I would like to leave here in early May if you get for me a sponsor cause I need to prepare myself for my final exams. I also ask you to do whatever you can or to try your own best. At home it will be difficult to talk about this.

I. Am sorry to give you to do such a job or to pressure simply because I don't have any option. You have to understand me kindly.

II. I want you to keep this as a secret between me and you cause I don't want anybody at home to find this out.

III. Though I don't get long with you, I realy love you so much x100.

IV. Finally, I gonna wait for a reply and you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone pleasy.

After reading it, I want you to tear it into tiny/small pieces cause I don't wnat anybody to come across it.

Nice reading and nice day

May the Almighty God multiply all you do by billions and billions.

God bless you,
Luv,
Annette Ann

My homestay

My Host family:
Ruth - the mom in the house... she is currently unemployed and used to work for a large NGO

Naomi - works for the city as the treasurer. She has a 2 year old named Favor (aka Fava) (probably 28)

Esther - works for compassion international (probably 25)

Vicky - works for compassion international (probably 23)

Susan - not currently working - waiting for university to begin in September (age 19)

Annette - an orphan the family took in. In exchange for housing and food, Annette does the majority of the housework, cooking and whatever else needs to be done
(age 16)


Here is a picture of my bedroom...


Living room


My non flushing toilet... thank goodness for tape



The other bathroom with the tub (where bucket baths take place :~D) and the sink where I pour water to brush my teeth...)


Where we eat...


The house


Fava


Susan

Namialo says hello... that's my Ugandan name - apparently means from the Left Side...

Sitting here at Frickadelly (STILL), eating my other new secret food... girlled cheese with ham and pineapple...

I have learned how to say three greetings and to tell the taxies to leave me alone. I’ve almost mastered how to say excuse me as in, may I pass by or get through and then I know a few random things like welcome back, sit down and I’m married. I am excited to greet people. The other day I passed this guy and said Oley otzu sei (like good morning/afternoon) - he plainly looked at me and said "I'm from Swaziland - I know English"... like I was supposed to know.

Feeling like an alien is growing to be quite old. It’s quite uncomfortable being noticed everywhere you go and having every store and restaurant charge you a different price than what the menu says as if you don’t remember your dinner was 5,000 shillings instead of 7,500. Part of me feels like a jerk because the difference is a mere dollar or two in US; but I suppose the principle is worth standing your ground for.

The big thing here is Spanish soap operas dubbed in English. Absolutely terrible and oh so cheesy but it’s funny how much people enjoy them here. What is quite sad through, is that many believe the corny things posted on TV is how our country is… but I guess that’s the same for many parts of the world, much like when all the news shows is these “animals” in Africa killing each other and then you get here and things are quite civilized compared to how they are portrayed (though I realize I’ve yet to convey any sort of civilization…but there is – it’s a civilization all of its own).

The people here are VERY soft spoken... I can hardly hear what they are saying and I have to speak VERY slow... I feel funny.

The other night I was on the couch eating and there was a toad outside... it sounded like the biggest toad ever. I paused trying to determine it's distance... Ruth said... It's a frog - do you have those... it was funny.

Cockaroaches are quite common in my house, as are mice... this past Sunday one was laying on it's back, legs sticking up in the air - my host sisters said "do you fear it" - that's what they say to ask if you're scared... I said no... then the thing flipped over and took off running... and me in the other direction... ya - they all laughed.
Taxi’s can take as many people as can fit and that includes sitting on the drivers lap, people holding other people’s babies so the adults can climb in and lay awkwardly in the back and so on. A main type of transportation are small scooters or motor bikes called Bodah Boda’s. The women ride side saddle on the back, often times with a small baby in their arms. I’ve seen countless children sitting in-between the arms of the driver, up on the tank, with another child holding on to the driver, with the husband holding on to the kid and the driver then the woman squeezed on the back sitting side saddle so elegantly.

Pedestrians have absolutely no right of way anywhere so dodging cars in Boston seems so like a walk in the park in comparison. I think I spend more time looking both ways a zillion times than I do actually walking anywhere… but hey – good practice right.

The other day I was standing outside talking to Adam and it looked like a swarm of dragonfly’s were coming in for a landing (there are LOTS of dragonfly’s here), low and behold they are apparently called white ants and they have wings but when they hit the ground the wings fall off and they crawl away. Unfortunately for them, the chickens were out so they didn’t make it too far. I must admit I found great amusement watching chickens run quickly all around the yard trying to gobble down these flying, then non flying ants.

I was encouraged to hear from other interns that it took them about 4 weeks of work to finally settle in and get in a groove. It’s difficult because I so would love to learn and be working and there is much skepticism at the organization regarding my intentions for working there. I tried explaining I’m doing field research to learn what a reproductive health clinic is like on the ground which didn’t translate well because next thing you know they are telling me I need to go 2 hours away to Kampala to get a waiver and have my research question and survey approved. I tried explaining I didn’t mean research like that but I’m doing observational research and not collecting data. Then every question I asked resulted in “so you are doing research”… sigh.

This past Sunday, I spoke with Ruth (my host mom) and told her warm peanuts and tea wasn’t cutting it for breakfast so I asked for 2 hard boiled eggs and a piece of fruit. This morning felt like Christmas sitting at the old rickety table watching the trail of ants swarm across the wall was I munched down on my boiled egg whites and apple banana. A very strange thing is the abundance of produce yet every single meal is the same 5 ingredients totally ignoring the vast amount of fruits and veggies available - I'm left to believe they go to waste and rot since I've yet to see them used anywhere... a total shame.

When I return home to Boston I wonder if I’ll hop right back into sending my wine back because something is floating in it or screaming at the site of a “city bug” (known outside of my house as a house centipede). I wonder if I’ll sit in my own sweat for hours thinking the woman next to me really stinks only to realize it’s me (gross but the truth) and if I’ll gouge myself on all the foods that currently make my mouth salivate just thinking about them. I wonder if knowing this stay is only temporary hinders full integration and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to take a trip – even a small one without Adam knowing how odd and painful it is to be without my best friend. Strangely it really does feel like half of my body is missing… like one side is a bit heavier – I know – it’s in my head… but it’s a heavy feeling.

It’s hard being here, knowing with the money I brought I could do so many things around the house, buy really good food for us, buy each of the girls pretty much whatever they wanted, and so on. I told the family for my birthday I’d like to treat everyone to 10 Tables. Partly because I want a nice meal that is as close to American as you can get here, and partly because when I asked about the place, they said they have only been once because it’s so expensive… again… dinner there is $6.50 and a glass of wine $1.50.

People often asked before I departed why I was so intent on working in Africa opposed to focusing my energy at home on issues that are dear to me such as homelessness, poverty and injustice… and perhaps it is because of things like this, these really perplexing things like rice. Here, rice has stones and weeds, twigs and gravel in it that must be sorted by hand. The family gathers around the TV with their plates of rice to watch the Spanish soaps while sifting through the rice picking everything out; whereas, the bags of rice that are pre-sorted or brown rice is 6,000 shillings (about $3.33) which is FAR too expensive to purchase everyday let alone for a special occasion.

I asked my host family if they have ever had Mexican food or made their meal any differently than serving just rice with carrots, beans with tomato and eggplant, Matoke, or potatoes – they said no. Hmmm… I think some cooking lessons are in order. They have SUCH good fruits and veggies (I know... redundant but true) yet the traditional way of fixing these items is so mundane and I swear, if I can’t keep sneaking food in my room I won’t be able to handle another 69 days of merely palliating food. It’s like baby food… no need to chew – simply squish and swallow. No wonder babies don’t eat baby food after being introduced to other yummy things… items with a bit of consistency and flavor… yet even if I cooked a few things I could almost guarantee they would never be eaten in this house again after my departure because habit and routine seems to dictate what happens.

A good example of this was this past Sunday, Easter Sunday. The heavens opened and rain poured forth for hours. I was told we’d be leaving for church at 9am… 10:15 came and we departed. Arriving at church roughly around 10:30am, Susan, another host sister said we were early. I asked what time Church started and she said normally between 8:30 and 9, but because of the rains it was a given that the start would be delayed… interesting…

The sun is about to set so I should run home and take my bucket bath before the precedent for boiling water on the charcoal burner is given to tea instead of making me smell good.

Here are some more pictures. I hope to get some soon of my house and host family.


Typical street corner


In the market


Typical woman on a Bodah boda


At the Croc farm

More of typical Uganda

Well today was my first day of work, I was there at 9am, sat there for 3 hours doing absolutely nothing and then asked if I could go home. The clinic is nice but it's a bit frustrating - they didn't have my paperwork, said I have to go to Kampala to talk to the main office to get clearance to work - I told them no... they need to figure it out with FSD. So at noon I left, defeated once again after feeling like things were starting to settle and be okay.

As for my home, the toilet doesn't flush - you have to pour water down it to make it flush and the electricity has been off in Masaka for the past two days. I'm getting pretty good with the bucket bath and told my family peanuts and tea doesn't cut it for breakfast for me so I asked for two boiled eggs and fruit every morning.. we'll see.

I saw a HUGE cockroach in my house yesterday - it was on it's back, I thought it was dead, all the girls were laughing and then it hopped up and took off running then they were chasing it to get it outside.

The weather here today is nice - no sign of rain in sight and I'm at this place called Frickadelly that has free wireless Internet (at 45 kbps) so it's SUPER slow but a nice.

I'm hoping tomorrow at work is better... I figured I need to give it a week before I flip out and start crying again saying this was a dumb choice to come here. The days and nights are SOOOOOOOO LONG and the thought of another 69 days here at times is a lot to comprehend.

I guess in the end even if the experience never gets better at least I'll know and won't spend the rest of my life wondering what would have been had I come.

In other news - at the local hotel where we spent a lot of time, the hand soap I thought I was using turns out to be an air freshener like that used in urinals... Two days ago I was standing outside talking to Adam on the phone and these things that looked like aunts with dragonfly wings were flying and when they hit the ground their wings fall off and they crawl away - but the chickens were loose in the yard and were running all around eating them... it was strange. I went to church on Sunday with my host sisters - it was an enjoyable experience and the funniest thing was the kids who couldn't stop staring at me... to the point this one little kid would stare so much his mouth dropped open and his older brother would turn and push his head forward and moments later the little kid would turn around... mouth drop open... and the older kid would push his head forward again.... hysterical...

Okay - more to come later...

Euphoria...where are you?

Well my flight arrived in Entebbe, Uganda on April 3, on time as scheduled.

Flying over Uganda I was quite surprised by thte green. I was expecting the same rust red earth like that of Sierra Leone. However, Uganda is very green and from above, the salmon color roads are clearly visible running all over, in and through the lush green trees and shrubs.

The past 8 days here in Africa have been extremely taxing...and poor Adam calls multiple times a day only to hear his wife hysterically crying saying she wants to come home.

Part of me wonders if I can get used to this, this diet, weather, living accomidations, Africa.. any of it. I thought it'd be fine. I mean I was nervous but this has been a lonely excruiating pain that has been totally unexpected and I don't know how to deal with it. I don't know how to embrace the situation, to look at the positives, to rest and find peace. I'm lost.

The team of interns consist of 4 females (Meghan, Cathleen, Shilpa, Michelle) and a young guy - Uriah. The dynamic is quite interesting so we'll see where that goes. Most of us are faily close together in terms of our host families, thus we've decided to get together once a week for "Human Resource Happy Hour" - not quite sure where the name came from but we'll see.

We've stumbled across a restaurant in town - Ten Tables (that has also been highly recommended by former interns) and I'm in love. NO traditional African food there... yeah!

Much has happened in the 11 days since my departure from Boston. In an effort to make this posting not another "venting" session - I'll simply list them :~)
*I squished a frog with my backpack
*I purchased a pineapple which then called all the ants in Africa to my room to
swarm it
*I had a few cold showers with a nozel and have been demoted to bucket showers now
that I'm at my host home
*I have a few interesting bites...not all mosiquito... some stay - some go - guess *I'll just keep taking my malaria pills on time and cross my fingers hoping for the
best...
*I'm continue to have people ask me why I'm married, 28 and have no kids. I guess
when the average life expectancy in a country is 47.5, it's a legitimate
question. Upon arrival the 2 yr. old granddaughter took her baby doll, pulled
out my shirt and stuck it up. I was laughing so hard I couldn't shoo her away to
make her stop. Nothing like a warm hello.
*Megan took a picture of a dog the other day who was laying on the side of the road
nursing... a local walked by and said "it's just a dog"
*I am having a hard time keeping track of the days... espeically talking to Adam
daily and half the time I'm a day ahead of him. I made a calendar in the back of
my journal so I can cross off days and count down until I see him.
*My internship has changed - I'll now be working at Marie Stopes instead of
Buddukiro Children's Agency (http://www.mariestopes.org/Home.aspx)
*Out of the three hotels we stayed in during the first week here, not one room I was
in had a toilet that flushed without vigerously shaking the handle... guess I
don't have to worry about that anymore since the toilet doesn't flush at all in
my host home
*I have a lizard who likes to hang out in my room on the screen - I think I'll name
him
*I have goats, chickens and a cow
*It took me 2 hours to wash my clothes by hand, hang them on the line... and then it
rained for 4 hours... guess that's why washing machines are so darn expensive...
so no one has to deal with it
*I almost started a fire in my room. Apparently the surge protector I purchased
didn't conver the voltage (like I thought it would) so when I turned the outlet
on there was an amazing display of sparks and smoke... talk about panic... I
already have a leaking ceiling - all I needed to do was loose a wall
*The drive from Kampala to Masaka was quite long... and apparently rest areas are a
foreign concept. The program director pulled over on the side of the road and
told me to go behind somoene's house... I asked if she knew the person - her
reply - "Nope, just go squirt" Hmmm... guess it's socially acceptable considering *I was walking to the FSD office yesterday and watched a woman go right along side
of the road.
*After 6 hours of Luganda language lessons I'm armed with just enough words to be
dangerous. I'm in the process of making note cards which I intend to carry with
me... now I just need to work on my pronounciation. Apparently the word for Water
and Shi* are spelled the same, and only pronounced slightly different... the
other day I asked for a bottle of ... well not water...
*Adam and Kalyn packed up a care package and have sent it my way - we'll see if it
arrives. I was told mail service was not an option... but the staff here in
Uganda say it's fine so we'll see.
*I locked myself in the bathroom at our last hotel - the Zebra hotel and an employee
had to come lift the door to get me out... I also flicked a lizard in our room
while there. I had the bathroom window open and when I shut it, unknown to me,
there was a lizard and the force of the window catapolted him into our bathroom
*I saw a local on a Harley Davidson the other day. Totally surprised me, jeans, cut
off shirt and skull cap...
*If there is any question about it, let it be known that water at the equator does
change directions. When we stopped at the visitor center they have a
demonstration where they pour water in a container on both the North and South
sides of the equator as well as right on the line. The water spins in opposite
directions and on the equator it just drains straight out.
*We went to Lake Buwama where there is a Crocodile farm (for meat and skin
purposes). The Lake was absolutely beautiful and the dragonflys - out of this
world. When you walk they swarm all around your feet, then go away when you
stop, then come straight back when you start walking again (pictures to come)
*I've been unable to get my computer on-line but am hoping to be able to in the near
furture so I can skype... it's be really nice to see a familiar face
*I have a cell phone so people have been calling which is really nice. Reception
isn't too stellar all the time - but it's so nice to hear from loved ones! The
phone was a whopping 30 bucks, but to call the states, it's just over a doller a
minute - yuck... but it's free for me when people call so the calling card is
working out well
*I fell in a hole last night walking... I had my flashlight and everything - I stepped to the left to avoid another hole and wham - right into a different hole...

More to come... hopefully fun and exciting things from a happy heart...


Driving from Entebbe into Kapala (the Capital of Uganda) for the night.


Mosk in Kampala


I am amazed at the scaffolding here. Large structures are being built and the workers are walking around on mere branches tied together


A church driving through town

Happy Birthday month to me...

For those of you who don't know, I've often celebrated my birthday month... Starting April 1, lasting though my birthday, the 30th, it's kind of been a long running joke with my family. A time for everyone to be extra special to me :~)

But Happy Birthday month to me, head pounding, as I sit here watching everyone board the plane. I had a busy day of packing and unpacking, crying then packing again.

The plane is quite empty as classical music pipes through the speakers. I hope it stays this way. I don't want to talk, to cry, I just want to sit here.

For the last two hours we sat at the airport. We got all checked in and Praise the Lord they didn't weigh my bags, that's $45 bucks I didn't have to pay to check the bag of donations. We sat at the bar, this funny little bar right by security and drank yucky wine... if it wasn't poured right in front of me I would have sworn it was box wine... not that there's anything wrong with box wine :~)

The overhead bins are closing now, how interesting, British Airways has a safety net thing so when you open them the cabin isn't simply open, it has this net... that's a neat feature.

Sitting here, roughly 30 minutes after boarding, plane is still not moving, knees up to my throat and a TV screen maybe 12" away from my face. Everything still seems extremely surreal as I sit here on the plan waiting for departure.

What in the world am I doing?

Seldom do I ask myself this. What I'm doing seems so bold and I feel I have become so reserved since my mothers death. So fearful of everything, all the unknowns. Perhaps this trip is harder than others would be considering last time I was in Africa she passed so this trip comes with many association fears and mixed emotions.

I'm wearing a quaint yellowish green beaded bracelet my sister gave me earlier today at lunch - she's so thoughtful, and I'm writing in this journal Adam gave me, sigh, the journal.

Apparently the gift for one yea anniversaries is paper. I don't know who made this list of gifts, but paper... come on.... Normally I would protest such a gift with great strength; however, as usual, Adam blows my mind with his creativity and love. Instead of simply giving me a card and saying that is the gift of paper or something, he lays in my hand a beautiful journal filled with writings and pictures of us.

God thank you for such an amazing husband who supports and encourages me to pursue such things as this three month internship in Uganda.

Nearly four pages in, I'm still sitting here, head pounding, knees to my throat, wishing we'd take off already. I cried and cried, boy did I cry all the way through security, looking back, waving and blowing Adam kisses. By the time I got through security and repacked everything, I turned around and he was gone. Back to the car, through probably still in the lot asking yourself the same question... What the hell am I doing jetting off to Uganda, quitting my job to go, taking only a handful of personal items and a gob of donations.

Pushback.

We're moving... feeling a bit strange without my wedding, wearing this simple, light band as a more "Uganda appropriate" external symbol of my marriage...feeling mixed emotions about being away from friends, family and Adam for so long. Feeling anxious about the wide array of unknowns and feeling lonely and empty.

Finally in flight, I cannot for the life of me remember where in the myriad of bags and stuff I put my headache meds (damn cheep wine). I just took off my shoes, thought I'd relax.

Stretch... sigh.

Wait!!! Stuck?!??!?!? What?

Oh man, are you kidding me? Not only did someone just spray their terible duty free purfume, but the plane is bouncing all over and my sock is stuck in gum... fantastic... how did I not step in the gum when I had my shoe on, but now, that my vulnerable sock is exposed... smack... right there - a big 'ol gob on my heel... fantastic. I guess this leaves me 8 pairs for the remaining 3 months in Africa.

Wow, we're really bouncing, Adam's lucky. I surely would have gouged through his arm by this point with my nails and white knuckles... can't they do something? This is why I don't go on amusement park rides... don't like the bouncing and butterflies in my tummy.

Sign - going to try to get some sleep.

We landed right on time - 9am London time. Then we sat on the tarmac for 40 minutes, then I had to take a 20 min. bus to terminal 4, at which time I thought my eyes would find the sigh directing me to the Hilton where I had reserved a room to rest and shower before my flight tonight to Uganda. However, once in Terminal 4 I was instructed to stand in a huge security line to enter Terminal 4... so I did, only to reach the front and be re-directed out of line over to customs where I stood for an hour, with my carry-on backpack digging into my shoulders.

After making my way through customs, I was so hot and sweaty and literally felt my shoulders were bleeding so I thought best to take a cab to the Hilton and give up hope of walking there, wherever it may be. I enter the Taxi line, momentarily forgetting the increasing pain I'm in due to this bag as my face lights up at the cut little taxi cars... they are like out of a movie... I reach the front of the line, tell the taxi driver I'm headed to the Hilton in Terminal 4, and he refuses to take me because it's less than a 200 meter (however far that is :~D) walk. Bursting into tears I explain I cannot walk any further and he counters my water works with disdain at my inability to make it 200 meters and refuses to take me. Charging back into the terminal in search of someone who can direct me to this illusive hotel (which boasts of its accessibility from Terminal 4) I apparently enter a private, restricted area, setting off an alarm in the airport. I'm then met by an airport worker informing me I'm not allowed in that area (as if the siren didn't tell me that). Still crying, I explain I'm just trying to get to the Hilton. He re-directs me, to which I get lost again, and finally, 20 minutes later I arrive at the Hilton. A little over 2 hours after I landed.

Sigh...

After checking in I ventured down to the lobby (hair a fray, blood shot eyes and face all splotchy from crying) to order a Club Sandwich. What a delicious, yet odd sandwich. Shortly after ordering, sitting in front of me was a sandwich consisting of lettuce, tomato, chicken breast, ham slices (like Christmas ham, not lunch meat ham), and a fried egg. Hmm... who knew it'd be so tasty.

Returning to my room and finally taking off my sticky sock, I climbed into bed for a 3 hour nap.

stretch.....

Now I'm sitting here in a chair, listening to the G20 Summit.

Alright, time to shower, re-pack my bag, have a bite to eat and make the journey back over to Terminal 5, allowing plenty of time for any obstacles which may arise, ensuring I'm at my gate in time for my 9:30pm departure for Entebbe, Uganda.