Apologies for the length of time since my last blog but with so little time left I've been trying to concentrate on the project and rounding off my year at Lwakhakha nicely. There's been plenty of good times and useful work to be done. At Seed Time primary, my favourite pupil, little P3 Esther, got the shock of her life when I shouted at her in class - the cheeky girl is so self-confident that she shouted out the door at the last period's teacher informing him that I'd just disposed of his stick out of the window (yes, I'm still brazenly attempting to undermine cane-wielding teachers) and then she giggled. She thought she was cute enough to get away with it but no - 'Back of the class, Esther, NOW!' and she sobbed loudly for the next ten minutes. In P1 I had asked the class to answer questions on themselves and after the teacher and class tried to convince a tiny Miriam that she wasn't '25' as she'd written, she became very indignant saying 'But my mama told me...' I got my hands very dirty in June, more than once, working with a very special kind of Ugandan building material - MUD! For Finn's community report he wanted to replicate the local traditional building technique and so I got involved (mostly distracting him from the task with mud fights that I started) plastering slopping mud to a stick frame to build a 10' by 10' mud hut outside our accommodation. Later we helped a local volunteer to build a 'rocket lorena' stove, again out of mud. These fuel-efficient stoves save women a lot of money on firewood by preventing heat loss, while also helping to protect the environment from further deterioration due to deforestation.
For yet another volunteers birthday I got to take part in a national event - the Africa cup of Nations qualifier - Uganda Cranes vs. Guinea Bissau at the enormous Mandela Stadium in Kampala. Clutching our tickets close, the 18 PT volunteers headed into the queue at the gate which slowly moved around the corner to reveal an enormous crowd of people waiting to be allowed in. When I say 'queue' I mean it in the slightest sense since Africans have no concept of queueing and the thousands of impatient spectators simply got herded down an alley like cattle with the pushing from the back creating a less and less funny crushing. Before reaching the ticket gate I began to have visions of the headlines - 'Hundreds killed in stadium crush' - as I got lifted off my feet by the tightness against my neighbours and the sway of the people. The irony was that the ticket gate was often left waiting for the next person to step out of the packed crowd - things would have moved a lot quicker had an orderly queue been arranged. After surviving the mayhem, the match was great fun with dancing and vevuzelahs - Uganda Cranes won 2-0. I again found myself in a situation where impatience nearly led to death (what ever happened to the 'laid back African attitude'?) a few weekends later where I was unfortunately trapped in a riot at a concert, but that's a story for another time...
Throughout the year I've been fairly healthy (forgetting the odd upset tummy and lot of bilharzia) but three weeks back I took the day off school with a fever and headache. As the day went on I felt worse and worse, laying in bed sweating and shivering. By evening my temperature was at 39.5 degrees and I was disorientated, feeling overwhelming panicked by nothing and failing to understand what Finn was saying. Project Trust was phoned and they told me to get to Kampala (an 8-hour bus journey) as early as possible, tomorrow. I had the worst night I've ever had, unable to sleep and when I did wake up I was in delirious panic-attack. Next morning we headed to Kampala and I began to feel a lot, lot better. By the time I reached 'The Surgery' I was practically fine with a mild headache but after blood tests I was diagnosed with malaria. They explained that the malarial fevers happen in worsening 'waves' - one day fine, the next much worse and then fine again - and monitored me for a few hours as I rehydrated and took a cup of rainbow pills. I stayed with an expat family I'd met on holiday who looked after me so well, letting me mope about feeling sorry for myself, watching DVDs and eating western food as I got better. 3 days later and it was as if nothing had happened - I'd been lucky and caught it early, as I'd seen first hand how badly malaria can leave you bed-ridden and in severe cases clinging to life. (NB - thanks for all the well-wishing. The word 'malaria' seems to exaggerates the seriousness of the situation - it really wasn't that bad, Mum and Dad do worry!)
This is going to be my last blog before I'm home with only a few days left at project and then a few more before I board my home-ward bound flight. Things are really coming to their conclusion here as I've begun to say my goodbyes and the neighbours have started to realise that we're really not coming back any time soon (Neighbour Scovia named her newborn baby boy, 'Ben' after me). I've had an unbelievable year so far and I've still got a little bit of time left to make the most of it. See you all soon!
Signing off for the last time in Uganda,
Ben
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The Last Quarter
Days since arriving back at project - 8
Exciting ASDA-bought food products now in kitchen - CHEESE sauce, boil-in-bag choc pudding, bacon pasta, KETTLE CRISPS (eeeh)
Level of spoiltness due to holiday - 80%
Reluctance to use basin as shower - HIGH
You may have seen Uganda in the news recently amongst the many African countries that appear to be rebelling against the government. In one of my last blogs I spoke about the reaction to an 'interesting' election campaign and eventual win but any rioting that happened at the time was minimal and mostly without consequence. Ugandans have chosen now to take to the streets in Kampala, Mbale and Gulu (amongst others) to peacefully protest against the rise in fuel prices and food in a 'Walk to work' organised by the opposition leader, Kizza Besigye. Unfortunately the reaction from the NRM was not great, and where these peaceful protests became riots the police, under government instruction, came down hard on the people. Now is an exciting time to be present in Uganda as you really get to see the frustration of locals at the problems that face their country - everyone wants to talk about the politics. I fortunately haven't witnessed a riot but the aftermath is ever-present. When walking through Mbale it's obvious - eeriely quiet streets, burnt tyres strewn across the roads and broken bricks littering the pavement. A few weeks back, it all kicked off when Besigye was leading a walk to work and was arrested (along with other opposition leaders and MPs) simply for not using transport. The governments response claimed he was inciting violence. After paying bail, Besigye vowed to continue the walk to work and as police dispersed the crowds with gunfire he attempted to escape in a car. From here on the story differs - NRM claim a clumsy police officer dropped his gun and it went off. But the truth is obvious; police officers smashed the car window and repeatedly fired tear gas into the vehicle to the point where Besigye was hospitalised. In other cases of police brutality men are struck with sticks as they attempt to escape - in total 9 people have been killed, including a toddler who was shot at point blank range. And now the people are no longer focusing their protests on food, but against active police brutality and supression by government - NRM wonder why.
I've been back at project, after a short and luxurious holiday with the parents, for 8 days now and in that time I've been working closely with an elderly Ugandan women called Josepha and her organisation African Rural Development Initiative (ARDI). ARDI do a lot of work in the local area but focus mainly in counselling of the poor rural community on topics of education, HIV infection and productive farming. As a potential project for Project Trust next year I visited 'the rural field' with Josepha to see what help was needed. As I walked between the ultra-green fields of maize and vegetables, down the thin footpaths to people's homes, there were calls of welcome from everyone. On our first home visit we sat with a woman in her garden as she breast-fed her young child and told us about her husband who works far from home in Jinja. Josepha's job is purely as a support for these women who are extremely poor (but often happy) and can offer no solution to their many problems. On our second day we were visiting with messages on the importance of education but often the response was hard to solve. One women called Evelyn had herself not passed primary school but instead been married and started a home and family. She had aspirations for her children to be educated but they were failing in a government school where children are 200 to a teacher and there is no funds for private tuition or schooling since she is a simple sustinance farmer. Another lady living in Bujuhili village has the tremendous task of looking after her orphaned neices and nephew, yet with little money and being herself infected with HIV how is she supposed to support her family? I got the chance to do a talk with youths in a village near Bubutu and a small 22-year old girl asked me how she could earn some money. In this talk, which focused on marriage after education, this girl told me she had dropped out of primary school, married at 16 and now had 3 children - what was I supposed to tell her? It seemed like the problems were endless and had no solution. However there is always a brighter side to each story - I visited a grandfather who was the sole guardian of his heavily disabled 11-year old grandson. This boy was so smiley and happy to greet visitors - he ran to meet us. After 11 years of sitting his grandad had taught him how to walk.
Us volunteers have become completely backwards in our response to label clothing. When I see someone dressed well the obvious question is 'Where did you get that?' but the answer is not always so obvious. Owino! Owino market is the second-hand clothes market that dominates central Kampala. Filling the area of a full-size football stadium, Owino sells suit jackets to baby wear, jeans and t-shirts, hats to thousands of shoe brands, abercrombie and fitch to ralph lauren and marc jacob. It's so much more of a trick to find an expensive label jumper or shirt in the expanse that is Owino and then buy it for the equivelent of one pound.. A lot of the clothes donated at home, unwanted in oxfam or chucked into the Tesco-car park clothes bin end up being sold to stall-sellers in Owino and then on to whoever has the money. I bet you never expected that nice shirt you donated to end up on the back of this volunteer! On my last visit I picked up three seemingly new Abercrombie and Fitch shirts for the equivelant of 3 pounds. Doesn't it sting? Ha.
I've got less than 3 months now until I'm home in the UK and then speedily whisked off to Uni. I've got extremely strange and mixed feelings on the subject - both anxious to get home and worried at how little time is really left. I know that I just have to make the most of the time I've got left before it's all over.
Til next time,
Ben
Exciting ASDA-bought food products now in kitchen - CHEESE sauce, boil-in-bag choc pudding, bacon pasta, KETTLE CRISPS (eeeh)
Level of spoiltness due to holiday - 80%
Reluctance to use basin as shower - HIGH
You may have seen Uganda in the news recently amongst the many African countries that appear to be rebelling against the government. In one of my last blogs I spoke about the reaction to an 'interesting' election campaign and eventual win but any rioting that happened at the time was minimal and mostly without consequence. Ugandans have chosen now to take to the streets in Kampala, Mbale and Gulu (amongst others) to peacefully protest against the rise in fuel prices and food in a 'Walk to work' organised by the opposition leader, Kizza Besigye. Unfortunately the reaction from the NRM was not great, and where these peaceful protests became riots the police, under government instruction, came down hard on the people. Now is an exciting time to be present in Uganda as you really get to see the frustration of locals at the problems that face their country - everyone wants to talk about the politics. I fortunately haven't witnessed a riot but the aftermath is ever-present. When walking through Mbale it's obvious - eeriely quiet streets, burnt tyres strewn across the roads and broken bricks littering the pavement. A few weeks back, it all kicked off when Besigye was leading a walk to work and was arrested (along with other opposition leaders and MPs) simply for not using transport. The governments response claimed he was inciting violence. After paying bail, Besigye vowed to continue the walk to work and as police dispersed the crowds with gunfire he attempted to escape in a car. From here on the story differs - NRM claim a clumsy police officer dropped his gun and it went off. But the truth is obvious; police officers smashed the car window and repeatedly fired tear gas into the vehicle to the point where Besigye was hospitalised. In other cases of police brutality men are struck with sticks as they attempt to escape - in total 9 people have been killed, including a toddler who was shot at point blank range. And now the people are no longer focusing their protests on food, but against active police brutality and supression by government - NRM wonder why.
I've been back at project, after a short and luxurious holiday with the parents, for 8 days now and in that time I've been working closely with an elderly Ugandan women called Josepha and her organisation African Rural Development Initiative (ARDI). ARDI do a lot of work in the local area but focus mainly in counselling of the poor rural community on topics of education, HIV infection and productive farming. As a potential project for Project Trust next year I visited 'the rural field' with Josepha to see what help was needed. As I walked between the ultra-green fields of maize and vegetables, down the thin footpaths to people's homes, there were calls of welcome from everyone. On our first home visit we sat with a woman in her garden as she breast-fed her young child and told us about her husband who works far from home in Jinja. Josepha's job is purely as a support for these women who are extremely poor (but often happy) and can offer no solution to their many problems. On our second day we were visiting with messages on the importance of education but often the response was hard to solve. One women called Evelyn had herself not passed primary school but instead been married and started a home and family. She had aspirations for her children to be educated but they were failing in a government school where children are 200 to a teacher and there is no funds for private tuition or schooling since she is a simple sustinance farmer. Another lady living in Bujuhili village has the tremendous task of looking after her orphaned neices and nephew, yet with little money and being herself infected with HIV how is she supposed to support her family? I got the chance to do a talk with youths in a village near Bubutu and a small 22-year old girl asked me how she could earn some money. In this talk, which focused on marriage after education, this girl told me she had dropped out of primary school, married at 16 and now had 3 children - what was I supposed to tell her? It seemed like the problems were endless and had no solution. However there is always a brighter side to each story - I visited a grandfather who was the sole guardian of his heavily disabled 11-year old grandson. This boy was so smiley and happy to greet visitors - he ran to meet us. After 11 years of sitting his grandad had taught him how to walk.
Us volunteers have become completely backwards in our response to label clothing. When I see someone dressed well the obvious question is 'Where did you get that?' but the answer is not always so obvious. Owino! Owino market is the second-hand clothes market that dominates central Kampala. Filling the area of a full-size football stadium, Owino sells suit jackets to baby wear, jeans and t-shirts, hats to thousands of shoe brands, abercrombie and fitch to ralph lauren and marc jacob. It's so much more of a trick to find an expensive label jumper or shirt in the expanse that is Owino and then buy it for the equivelent of one pound.. A lot of the clothes donated at home, unwanted in oxfam or chucked into the Tesco-car park clothes bin end up being sold to stall-sellers in Owino and then on to whoever has the money. I bet you never expected that nice shirt you donated to end up on the back of this volunteer! On my last visit I picked up three seemingly new Abercrombie and Fitch shirts for the equivelant of 3 pounds. Doesn't it sting? Ha.
I've got less than 3 months now until I'm home in the UK and then speedily whisked off to Uni. I've got extremely strange and mixed feelings on the subject - both anxious to get home and worried at how little time is really left. I know that I just have to make the most of the time I've got left before it's all over.
Til next time,
Ben
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Exciting changes
The rainy season hit us like a punch in the face mid-March and with it came the calm and cool that I think everyone in Uganda had been waiting for. For Finn and I especially (who'd been rushing home from school everyday, stripping to our boxers and laying on our seats dying of heat exhaustion) the dryness and the heat had simply got too much - there had even been talk of the start of a drought lasting til May. Thankfully though the rains came and we got a beautiful two-hour rainstorm daily - enough to cool down our iron roof (it's like sleeping directly under a radiator you can't turn off) and to get back into the routine of 'gutter-showers' (bathing never has been so easy). And now Uganda, which had become horribly dusty and dead, has started to brim with life again. Everything seems greener, and people are always busy - since rainy season is planting season - and all the unused land has become a field. I woke up one morning and stepped outside the house for 'short-call' (a piss) to find that the extensive downpour had literally driven a giant river through our path to the main road. We now have to leap across a wide ravine (gorge-walking at Lwakhakha coming soon). And because it's become cooler, it's become a lot easier to work and live in the baseness of a rural village. Teaching has been really interesting as now the pupils have started to really show some initiative - plus I've got some more experience and so now try and be more inventive with my teaching as mid-term exams approach ever-closer. I've also been doing some other work to go along with the teaching Finn and I were selected to do and to fill in the slightly empty weekends. Firstly we've been painting sanitation murals in local medical centers (with the help of our friendly painted Ugandan character 'Gloria' who has a love for a good 'fuel-efficient stove') and as a possible project for the following year working with ARDI (African Rural Development Initiative) who, amongst numerous projects, give health talks to locals and train up young school-leaver-girls who have become pregnant - something I hope to update you on, in future blogs.
While travelling in Uganda, I've always felt that it's one of the safest countries in Africa. This rings true, also for the capital, Kampala, where in comparison to Nairobi (a.k.a. Nai-robbery) I've yet to even be bothered by someone, let alone pick-pocketed or harassed. Even the recent elections went seemingly peacefully in comparison to the likes of Libya and Egypt (where the story really isn't that different, with long-standing leaders). However it seems now, in a backlash, things have started to become hairy in the capital after the opposition leader, Kizza Besigye, had been arrested and then shot in the hand after peaceful protests against the rise of fuel prices got laid into by the trigger-happy army. These sort of occurrences remind me that I'm not safe at home in Turriff, but living in a potentially volatile African country. Even last week I saw some things that really made me realise things here play differently. For instance, while attempting to renew my visa in Mbale town, I had a very awkward realisation I was being asked for a 'bribe', something you simply don't come across in home life. It went something along the lines of 'Can I renew my visa? I realise it doesn't run out until later this month, but...', 'Do you have any Dollars', 'Em, no I'm not American', 'Do you have any Euros', 'Again no, not (really) European', 'You are being too stubborn! People like you come expecting something and not bringing money. This is something that will not be receipted', 'Ah!' (It clicks). I think maybe I'm simply too naive. That same week I was travelling in a coach and as we passed some traffic, everyone on the coach stood up and peered out of the windows. Just a few lanes over some armed-gunmen were shouting as they forced a man out of his car and told him to lay on the pavement - our coach quickly pulled away. Even simple differences separate the safety I feel in Scotland to what I feel sometimes here, such as the road safety record. Recently I met a local Ugandan woman at a school I was visiting, who had burns on her arms and legs. When I called her up on it she explained that she'd fallen off a 100cc motorbike-transport at full speed and carrying her own newly-born baby at the time.
On a more positive note I had the pleasure of showing around my home in Lwakhakha, Suzie, the project trust Uganda desk officer. Suzie got to meet my neighbours and saw me teaching at the school, while making preparations for possible volunteers coming to Lwakhakha next year. It's really exciting to think that someone could be coming to the same village and experiencing similar things to myself only in a few months time. In the same line as visitors only this Saturday will my mumma and pappa be calling in to see me in slightly (un)sunny Uganda. We've got some touring plans that include a bit of catch-up time, tracking the mountain gorillas, rafting on the nile and seeing my house and the people I've been living with for the past 8 months.
Til next time,
A very excited volunteer,
Benny x
While travelling in Uganda, I've always felt that it's one of the safest countries in Africa. This rings true, also for the capital, Kampala, where in comparison to Nairobi (a.k.a. Nai-robbery) I've yet to even be bothered by someone, let alone pick-pocketed or harassed. Even the recent elections went seemingly peacefully in comparison to the likes of Libya and Egypt (where the story really isn't that different, with long-standing leaders). However it seems now, in a backlash, things have started to become hairy in the capital after the opposition leader, Kizza Besigye, had been arrested and then shot in the hand after peaceful protests against the rise of fuel prices got laid into by the trigger-happy army. These sort of occurrences remind me that I'm not safe at home in Turriff, but living in a potentially volatile African country. Even last week I saw some things that really made me realise things here play differently. For instance, while attempting to renew my visa in Mbale town, I had a very awkward realisation I was being asked for a 'bribe', something you simply don't come across in home life. It went something along the lines of 'Can I renew my visa? I realise it doesn't run out until later this month, but...', 'Do you have any Dollars', 'Em, no I'm not American', 'Do you have any Euros', 'Again no, not (really) European', 'You are being too stubborn! People like you come expecting something and not bringing money. This is something that will not be receipted', 'Ah!' (It clicks). I think maybe I'm simply too naive. That same week I was travelling in a coach and as we passed some traffic, everyone on the coach stood up and peered out of the windows. Just a few lanes over some armed-gunmen were shouting as they forced a man out of his car and told him to lay on the pavement - our coach quickly pulled away. Even simple differences separate the safety I feel in Scotland to what I feel sometimes here, such as the road safety record. Recently I met a local Ugandan woman at a school I was visiting, who had burns on her arms and legs. When I called her up on it she explained that she'd fallen off a 100cc motorbike-transport at full speed and carrying her own newly-born baby at the time.
On a more positive note I had the pleasure of showing around my home in Lwakhakha, Suzie, the project trust Uganda desk officer. Suzie got to meet my neighbours and saw me teaching at the school, while making preparations for possible volunteers coming to Lwakhakha next year. It's really exciting to think that someone could be coming to the same village and experiencing similar things to myself only in a few months time. In the same line as visitors only this Saturday will my mumma and pappa be calling in to see me in slightly (un)sunny Uganda. We've got some touring plans that include a bit of catch-up time, tracking the mountain gorillas, rafting on the nile and seeing my house and the people I've been living with for the past 8 months.
Til next time,
A very excited volunteer,
Benny x
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Politics and River Drinks
Wednesday, 23rd of February was the official half-way-day - that means that the length of time I've so far been in Uganda for, has to be repeated again before I go home. It also means that I'm now counting down til my departure day - and not in an impatient way - but in a passive sense, realising that as time flies by without me even noticing, I've got to treasure each moment.
Being back at project after nearly two months travelling had a really good feeling to it. It didn't take too long to readjust to old ways - washing with a basin or trying to think of appetizing meals that can be made from limited supplies of bitter plantains, tomatoes and tiny onions. The first thing Finn and I did upon our arrival back was give our accommodation a huge clean-over. Somehow wed gained a spider infestation with creepy crawlies in every frigging corner and it was incredible how far reaching the dust was. Things weren't made easier by the extreme Ugandan Summer heat , Lwakhakha only got the year's first rain a week or so after our arrival back. It was hard to once again be giving up western food for rice and vegetables, but for my birthday my parents had sent out some boil-in-the-bag hiking food and so Finn and I picked a day and enjoyed chicken tikka curry (with chapati) followed by a chocolate pudding dessert with hot chocolate sauce - beats school dinners any day. Then a few weeks later Finn's uncle paid us a visit from Kampala (where he lives) and he just so happens to be a chef. We chose the finest half goat we could find, hanging and drying in a cloud of flies in front of the butcher's shop. And so, for the first time in my stay here, we cooked goats leg (coated in curry + stuffed with garlic) on a charcoal 'BBQ' - served with homemade chapaties and creamy mash - utterly delicious. Sometimes making things homely at project can be hard without basic neccessities, such as having a variety of foods or even electicity. But we get by - buying a coca-cola bottle of fuel to power the internet cafe's generator or sipping luke warm drinks, cooled in a pot of Lwakhakha river water.
Not long after arriving home we were back to work at Seed Time primary and nursery school. We were greeted by our jolly headmaster, John, telling us 'You've been lost!' It was nice to see so many new faces, as the school expands, and of course the old ones like the P5 Isaac who upon spotting me arrive, pointed at an innocent female classmante and shouted 'I am a munter and she is a munteress!'. Slightly worried at what exactly I'd been teaching last years P5, Finn looked on, as I explained 'No Isaac,.. you're a hunter and she is a huntress.' I wasn't entirely sure how I felt to be back to teaching and I was both nervous and aprehensive yet all trepidation disappeared in those first few minutes back in the classroom, teaching Primary 3 maths. Our attempts last year to rid the school of corporal punishment appeared to have paid off as John told us the official school policy on the subject was non-tolerance. And although I've not witnessed a beating since I've been back I still get an eerie feeling when I walk into a classroom and see the thick wooden cane in the corner, left by last period's teacher. To tackle this Finn and I decided we needed to offer an alternative discipline (and praise) system and so introduced a typical 'House system' drawing up posters and charts for Elephant, Rhino, Eagle and Lion house. Still, it's a lot of work when the teacher's (and even John) don't really feel any need to change. It's much easier for them to just hit a naughty child and so attempting to reason with such an old African custom is like attacking a brick wall.
On February 18th I got to witness a really important even in Uganda - the presidential elections. Opposition 'Besigye' was contesting for the third time against the corrupt current president 'Museveni' who abolished term limits and has consequently been in power since 1986. Everyone had an opinion and everyone was nervous, more so to see the reaction to the result than maybe the result itself. The day itself passed pretty smoothly in Lwakhakha, although there was a tense military presence (police with sticks and body-armour) . On the day after the elections, Finn and I had made plans to make the two hour trip to the town of Mbale to collect post and get some food shopping - looking back a stupid mistake. The town was empty but with an even stronger number of armed police - men with mounted machine guns, tear gas and I even saw one soldier with a rocket launcher. I have never before seen a rocket-launcher - it all seemed a bit excessive. What situation would have to arise for the soldier to ever fire into an uprising? We rushed about our things (post office was shut anyway) and while sitting in the internet cafe, I heard a siren and looked up from my screen to see a police patrol pass, followed by a tank. I hadn't expected their to be any problems before the election results had been announced but some poll results were coming through and it was obvious anti-government Mbale wasn't happy with large groups of men gathering around town. Finn and I quickly got our food shopping and exited town to get lunch in a hotel, away from the action. Our boda-boda driver was angry, telling us how undeveloped Uganda was compared to other East African countries, blaming Museveni. I could tell he, like most people, was scared of a dictatorship. After lunch we met an MP called Lydia who didn't think we'd be able to leave Mbale by public transport as the army was closing off parts of town. As we spoke a number of men ran past the hotel - the arm was pushing potential rioters out of town. We hung around and eventually things calmed down enough for us to catch a bus home. In the end, Museveni won another 5 years of presidency with 68% of the vote (a landslide by UK standards), but there was unsettling reports by the opposition of extreme rigging - ballot stuffing, voters turned away and known opposition supporters not down on the registrar. It was very easy to get sucked into the politics and to pity these people who don't have a free and fair vote, something we in Britain take for granted. I just hope that the Ugandan people don't turn to violence, like the situation in Libya, to protest against the corruption.
Being back at project after nearly two months travelling had a really good feeling to it. It didn't take too long to readjust to old ways - washing with a basin or trying to think of appetizing meals that can be made from limited supplies of bitter plantains, tomatoes and tiny onions. The first thing Finn and I did upon our arrival back was give our accommodation a huge clean-over. Somehow wed gained a spider infestation with creepy crawlies in every frigging corner and it was incredible how far reaching the dust was. Things weren't made easier by the extreme Ugandan Summer heat , Lwakhakha only got the year's first rain a week or so after our arrival back. It was hard to once again be giving up western food for rice and vegetables, but for my birthday my parents had sent out some boil-in-the-bag hiking food and so Finn and I picked a day and enjoyed chicken tikka curry (with chapati) followed by a chocolate pudding dessert with hot chocolate sauce - beats school dinners any day. Then a few weeks later Finn's uncle paid us a visit from Kampala (where he lives) and he just so happens to be a chef. We chose the finest half goat we could find, hanging and drying in a cloud of flies in front of the butcher's shop. And so, for the first time in my stay here, we cooked goats leg (coated in curry + stuffed with garlic) on a charcoal 'BBQ' - served with homemade chapaties and creamy mash - utterly delicious. Sometimes making things homely at project can be hard without basic neccessities, such as having a variety of foods or even electicity. But we get by - buying a coca-cola bottle of fuel to power the internet cafe's generator or sipping luke warm drinks, cooled in a pot of Lwakhakha river water.
Not long after arriving home we were back to work at Seed Time primary and nursery school. We were greeted by our jolly headmaster, John, telling us 'You've been lost!' It was nice to see so many new faces, as the school expands, and of course the old ones like the P5 Isaac who upon spotting me arrive, pointed at an innocent female classmante and shouted 'I am a munter and she is a munteress!'. Slightly worried at what exactly I'd been teaching last years P5, Finn looked on, as I explained 'No Isaac,.. you're a hunter and she is a huntress.' I wasn't entirely sure how I felt to be back to teaching and I was both nervous and aprehensive yet all trepidation disappeared in those first few minutes back in the classroom, teaching Primary 3 maths. Our attempts last year to rid the school of corporal punishment appeared to have paid off as John told us the official school policy on the subject was non-tolerance. And although I've not witnessed a beating since I've been back I still get an eerie feeling when I walk into a classroom and see the thick wooden cane in the corner, left by last period's teacher. To tackle this Finn and I decided we needed to offer an alternative discipline (and praise) system and so introduced a typical 'House system' drawing up posters and charts for Elephant, Rhino, Eagle and Lion house. Still, it's a lot of work when the teacher's (and even John) don't really feel any need to change. It's much easier for them to just hit a naughty child and so attempting to reason with such an old African custom is like attacking a brick wall.
On February 18th I got to witness a really important even in Uganda - the presidential elections. Opposition 'Besigye' was contesting for the third time against the corrupt current president 'Museveni' who abolished term limits and has consequently been in power since 1986. Everyone had an opinion and everyone was nervous, more so to see the reaction to the result than maybe the result itself. The day itself passed pretty smoothly in Lwakhakha, although there was a tense military presence (police with sticks and body-armour) . On the day after the elections, Finn and I had made plans to make the two hour trip to the town of Mbale to collect post and get some food shopping - looking back a stupid mistake. The town was empty but with an even stronger number of armed police - men with mounted machine guns, tear gas and I even saw one soldier with a rocket launcher. I have never before seen a rocket-launcher - it all seemed a bit excessive. What situation would have to arise for the soldier to ever fire into an uprising? We rushed about our things (post office was shut anyway) and while sitting in the internet cafe, I heard a siren and looked up from my screen to see a police patrol pass, followed by a tank. I hadn't expected their to be any problems before the election results had been announced but some poll results were coming through and it was obvious anti-government Mbale wasn't happy with large groups of men gathering around town. Finn and I quickly got our food shopping and exited town to get lunch in a hotel, away from the action. Our boda-boda driver was angry, telling us how undeveloped Uganda was compared to other East African countries, blaming Museveni. I could tell he, like most people, was scared of a dictatorship. After lunch we met an MP called Lydia who didn't think we'd be able to leave Mbale by public transport as the army was closing off parts of town. As we spoke a number of men ran past the hotel - the arm was pushing potential rioters out of town. We hung around and eventually things calmed down enough for us to catch a bus home. In the end, Museveni won another 5 years of presidency with 68% of the vote (a landslide by UK standards), but there was unsettling reports by the opposition of extreme rigging - ballot stuffing, voters turned away and known opposition supporters not down on the registrar. It was very easy to get sucked into the politics and to pity these people who don't have a free and fair vote, something we in Britain take for granted. I just hope that the Ugandan people don't turn to violence, like the situation in Libya, to protest against the corruption.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Moving Overland
Read about my travels in December in my last blog.
X-mas + New Years - Being faced with the thought of spending Christmas away from home and family is quite daunting. For me, and most people, Christmas has always been very family orientated and involved a lot of presents, snow and food - so all of us Ugandan volunteers banded together to have a good (and probably quite unfestive) time on the Sese isles of Lake Victoria. Golden sands, gorgeous head and beautiful, blue, bilharzia-infected lake waters. What more could I want from Christmas? On Christmas day I got up bright and early from my tent at Hornbill camp and all of us sat around our mini Christmas tree and placed our presents (crudely wrapped in banana leaves) under it. For secret Santa I got a pair of bright second-hand swim-shorts from Owino market, a t-shirt from Finn, chocolates, shaving cream and a 'Turriff and the surrounding area' photo calendar from my thoughtful parents. Early that morning the German owner of the camp slaughtered his pig and throughout the day it was slowly spit-roasted for a x-mas treat (not such a treat for the pig). The rest of the day was spent playing games - like 'dress-up relay' - sunbathing and having a weed fight in the lake (ironically the entire PT volunteer set for Uganda now has bilharzia, a potentially fatal disease gained from a parasite found in freshwater weeds. It's easily curable though, so no panicking Mum). In the evening we had delicious crunch pork (sorry pig), rice, matooke and spaghetti (especially festive) and some of the girls surprised us with hand-made crackers complete with newspaper hats, sweets and un-funny jokes. After the excitement of Christmas abroad we all got back to busy Kampala for New Years Eve. Ready with 15p sackets (bagged gin or vodka) we unfortunately reached 2011 in a long queue for the 'Club Silk Street Jam' but once finally in the club we had an amazing time - a street had been cordoned off and there was a massive stage and Uganda's top R+B artists. Of course, being mzungu, we were given VIP access and invited to dance on stage - with embarrassing consequences.
Kenya 2 - On the 6th of January I headed back into Kenya to see the parts me and my friends had missed - namely Nairobi and Mombasa. Having head quite a lot about 'Nairobbery' (as it's a.k.a) our overnight bus pulled up in the back-streets of the city worryingly early at 4am and so we had to wait on board til sunlight appeared and the ominous figures encircling our bus disappeared. My time spent in Nairobi (a city comparable to any in Europe) was memorable - staying in a youth hostel, hanging out in central park, shopping on Kenyatta avenue and meeting lots of interesting people; a couple of world travellers and an 86-year old American man staying in a dorm bed while volunteering with local families (it's never too late!). One day was spent climbing the 350ft Kenyatta Conference center for panoramic views across the city and then visiting a shopping center to make SPAM sandwiches for lunch (we were on a tight budget). After a week exploring the city (and not seeing any criminal activity whatsoever - is it wrong to be disappointed?) we boarded our bus to Mombasa. The humid air hit me like a wall when disembarking from the coach and my clothes became wet with sweat straight away. We quickly got into my first tuk-tuk and headed to backpackers - a hostel that had more similarities to a building trashed by a teenage house-party than a hotel. The next day I got my first sight of the sea for over four months and we spent a good few hours soaking up the sea and sunrays - a big mistake as it turned out as my glowing white body wasn't used to Sunlight factor-onemillion and I got myself a nice pair huge blisters covering the entirety of my shoulders. After a few days we said goodbye to Mombasa, snuck a few notes into the hand of the drunk South African backpackers-owner KO'd on a sofa and caught a bus to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.
Zanzibar - After deciding not to board a Zanzibar bound Mombasa cargo ship, perhaps due to its proximity to Somalia (and pirates), we got a nice speedy ferry from Dar to the island off the east coast of the African continent. If the beaches at Mombasa were nice, they weren't anything on Zanzibar where the sand is like flour and a band of 30°C turquoise water stretched out from the shore. Being there was like paradise and to make it even better it was so affordable - I stayed in a comfy $10 a night room and the entire 1600km travelled from Kampala cost only £90 return. I'd decided if I was making the long trip I was going to make it worth my while and so signed up with a couple of friends to do diving off marine-conservation site 'Mnemba Atoll'. We spent a few hours training in the murky waters and then headed out to Mnemba for two dives in crystal clear surrounded by sealife. On the way to the isle dolphins followed the boat and at the very end of the second dive I was very lucky and swam alongside a sea turtle, moving only inches from its face. The food on Zanzibar was the best I've eaten so far on my trip - enormous burgers, stone-baked pizzas and endless numbers of seafood: giant crab claws, shark, octopus and barracuda. One day all the volunteers swam out to a boat held offshore and we dived off the prow and just hung out chatting. Later in our week we spent a few days in stone town - a huge criss-cross of tiny streets between beautiful arabic-influenced buildings, churches, souvenir and book-shops - sampling spiced coffee and glasses of sugar cane juice.
I really made the most of my time and money in East Africa by visiting as many countries as I could and experiencing as much as possible. And although travelling is a really big part of my year and a huge cultural adventure I really came out here to teach and make a small difference to a rural Ugandan community and so I head back to project in Lwakhakha today. At the moment I'm feeling quite nervous about how my project is going to turn out but also quite excited to get back to teaching (and spending a lot less money!). This year Finn and I have plans to do more in the community, work at a local hospital or even with a local social worker giving school talks on AIDs. Hopefully it'll all fit back into place once again.
Signing off,
Benny
X-mas + New Years - Being faced with the thought of spending Christmas away from home and family is quite daunting. For me, and most people, Christmas has always been very family orientated and involved a lot of presents, snow and food - so all of us Ugandan volunteers banded together to have a good (and probably quite unfestive) time on the Sese isles of Lake Victoria. Golden sands, gorgeous head and beautiful, blue, bilharzia-infected lake waters. What more could I want from Christmas? On Christmas day I got up bright and early from my tent at Hornbill camp and all of us sat around our mini Christmas tree and placed our presents (crudely wrapped in banana leaves) under it. For secret Santa I got a pair of bright second-hand swim-shorts from Owino market, a t-shirt from Finn, chocolates, shaving cream and a 'Turriff and the surrounding area' photo calendar from my thoughtful parents. Early that morning the German owner of the camp slaughtered his pig and throughout the day it was slowly spit-roasted for a x-mas treat (not such a treat for the pig). The rest of the day was spent playing games - like 'dress-up relay' - sunbathing and having a weed fight in the lake (ironically the entire PT volunteer set for Uganda now has bilharzia, a potentially fatal disease gained from a parasite found in freshwater weeds. It's easily curable though, so no panicking Mum). In the evening we had delicious crunch pork (sorry pig), rice, matooke and spaghetti (especially festive) and some of the girls surprised us with hand-made crackers complete with newspaper hats, sweets and un-funny jokes. After the excitement of Christmas abroad we all got back to busy Kampala for New Years Eve. Ready with 15p sackets (bagged gin or vodka) we unfortunately reached 2011 in a long queue for the 'Club Silk Street Jam' but once finally in the club we had an amazing time - a street had been cordoned off and there was a massive stage and Uganda's top R+B artists. Of course, being mzungu, we were given VIP access and invited to dance on stage - with embarrassing consequences.
Kenya 2 - On the 6th of January I headed back into Kenya to see the parts me and my friends had missed - namely Nairobi and Mombasa. Having head quite a lot about 'Nairobbery' (as it's a.k.a) our overnight bus pulled up in the back-streets of the city worryingly early at 4am and so we had to wait on board til sunlight appeared and the ominous figures encircling our bus disappeared. My time spent in Nairobi (a city comparable to any in Europe) was memorable - staying in a youth hostel, hanging out in central park, shopping on Kenyatta avenue and meeting lots of interesting people; a couple of world travellers and an 86-year old American man staying in a dorm bed while volunteering with local families (it's never too late!). One day was spent climbing the 350ft Kenyatta Conference center for panoramic views across the city and then visiting a shopping center to make SPAM sandwiches for lunch (we were on a tight budget). After a week exploring the city (and not seeing any criminal activity whatsoever - is it wrong to be disappointed?) we boarded our bus to Mombasa. The humid air hit me like a wall when disembarking from the coach and my clothes became wet with sweat straight away. We quickly got into my first tuk-tuk and headed to backpackers - a hostel that had more similarities to a building trashed by a teenage house-party than a hotel. The next day I got my first sight of the sea for over four months and we spent a good few hours soaking up the sea and sunrays - a big mistake as it turned out as my glowing white body wasn't used to Sunlight factor-onemillion and I got myself a nice pair huge blisters covering the entirety of my shoulders. After a few days we said goodbye to Mombasa, snuck a few notes into the hand of the drunk South African backpackers-owner KO'd on a sofa and caught a bus to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.
Zanzibar - After deciding not to board a Zanzibar bound Mombasa cargo ship, perhaps due to its proximity to Somalia (and pirates), we got a nice speedy ferry from Dar to the island off the east coast of the African continent. If the beaches at Mombasa were nice, they weren't anything on Zanzibar where the sand is like flour and a band of 30°C turquoise water stretched out from the shore. Being there was like paradise and to make it even better it was so affordable - I stayed in a comfy $10 a night room and the entire 1600km travelled from Kampala cost only £90 return. I'd decided if I was making the long trip I was going to make it worth my while and so signed up with a couple of friends to do diving off marine-conservation site 'Mnemba Atoll'. We spent a few hours training in the murky waters and then headed out to Mnemba for two dives in crystal clear surrounded by sealife. On the way to the isle dolphins followed the boat and at the very end of the second dive I was very lucky and swam alongside a sea turtle, moving only inches from its face. The food on Zanzibar was the best I've eaten so far on my trip - enormous burgers, stone-baked pizzas and endless numbers of seafood: giant crab claws, shark, octopus and barracuda. One day all the volunteers swam out to a boat held offshore and we dived off the prow and just hung out chatting. Later in our week we spent a few days in stone town - a huge criss-cross of tiny streets between beautiful arabic-influenced buildings, churches, souvenir and book-shops - sampling spiced coffee and glasses of sugar cane juice.
I really made the most of my time and money in East Africa by visiting as many countries as I could and experiencing as much as possible. And although travelling is a really big part of my year and a huge cultural adventure I really came out here to teach and make a small difference to a rural Ugandan community and so I head back to project in Lwakhakha today. At the moment I'm feeling quite nervous about how my project is going to turn out but also quite excited to get back to teaching (and spending a lot less money!). This year Finn and I have plans to do more in the community, work at a local hospital or even with a local social worker giving school talks on AIDs. Hopefully it'll all fit back into place once again.
Signing off,
Benny
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Living out of a backpack
The period of 1st of December to 1st of February in Uganda is the school 'summer' holidays. Temperatures are at their highest and so after completing their end of year exams the primary school kids go home to help their family with chores and play for a while. Since I volunteer at 'Seed Time Primary', their is nothing for me to do but travel. Living out of a backpack for two months is an experience, plus having the opportunity of being in East Africa and so all the volunteers wanted to take full advantage of being able to travel on a budget. This is what I did in the first half of the holidays.
Kenya 1 - Our Ugandan visas expired at the beginning of December and so this gave us an opportunity to visit one of Uganda's neighboring countries. Living in a Kenyan border town meant the choice was obvious. Unfortunately it also meant having to deal with the bureaucracy and red tape that developing countries are infamous for - the immigration officer only dropped the visa charge to its real price after we demanded proof that it had actually doubled. He then took us out for a soda to make up for his blatant law-breaking. And so a group of six of us headed to our first stop on our Kenyan trip, Nakuru - home of the Kenyan cheese-making industry - and so after eating our fill of cheese and peanut butter sandwiches we settled down for a night at the delightful care guest-house (two pound a night). We spent the majority of our time that week, camping on Lake Navaisha and being kept awake at night by the honking hippos crawling out onto the shore. A day was spent at the ominously named 'Hell's Gate' National Park, where we did a bicycle safari (!) We cycled ridiculously close to wild antelope, zebra, warthog, buffalo and giraffe. If that didn't have me gasping for breath the 3 hour gorge walk in the boiling African sun led by a local masai warrior (who clearly enjoyed torturing tourists by speed walking), certainly did. Did I mention that 'Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life' was filmed here? (probably the most exciting piece of information about this trip). Joe the masai's chat was very interesting - he told me all about the time he killed a lion with a spear and when Angelina Jolie drank his cow's blood.
Mt.Elgon - After taking a short lapse from the painstaking walks, I was back for seconds. Myself, Finn and Rosie decided it would be great to do a four day hike up Uganda's Mt.Elgon - and therein lied our great error. 9 hours walking uphill, 25km a day. No, really the hike was amazing fun, but it was in no means luxurious. As anyone who has climbed Kili will tell you, even in Africa camping up a mountain is bitterly cold. So there we were: Me, Finn, Rosie and a random Israeli man we'd befriended up the mountain, dressed up in four layers (plus sleepingbag), spooning in our tent til the cows came home. And I still couldn't sleep because of the cold. Food wasn't michelin standard either as you can only eat what you can carry and so meals consisted of much pasta, tinned tuna, peanut butter sarnies and a rather large quantity of glucose biscuits. We made it to Wagagai peak and 4321m above sea level by lunch time on the 3rd day and it really felt like an achievement. The walk back down was more rough than any of the days climbing up as we practically ran down the back-breaking-ly steep mountainside. After finally hitting the road we were given the option of either walking the last 8km to the guide center or catching a boda boda. It wasn't a hard decision.
Kazinga - Since the long holidays are really long, Project Trust encourage volunteers to do secondary projects. So I arranged with school headmaster Gerald to spent a week at Kazinga; an exceptionally rural fishing village in the Queen Elizabeth National Park and my original project destination before it was changed. When I arrived on Gerald's motorbike a massive herd of primary school children chased after the bike, through the little side streets, screaming with happiness and then clutching at me in hundreds of little hugs once I'd disembarked. I spent a lot of my time that week playing games with the kids (who were very happy to tell me all about their lived in the local language - shame I can't speak it). I also helped with preparing for the church Christmas party - a big event in the Kazinga social calendar - and my chores involved helping the mamas peel the hundreds of matoke bananas with a knife and doing a shopping run to Kasese. Needless to say the party was a hit (and I was certainly hungry after sitting through a 5 hour church service in a foreign language). On my first morning in Kazinga I was woken up by Gerald saying 'Ben, wake up. You're missing something special!'. I crawled outside, sleepy-eyed, to see a huge African elephant munching on leaves right beside the long-drop toilet. That is the exciting thing about Kazinga is the village residents share their front doorstep with the local wildlife, and I saw plenty of it every day - elephants, warthog, hippos, buffalo and gazelle. On our trip to Kasese, we were speeding around the dirt-track corners on a motorbike and literally nearly crashed into the side of a huge bull elephant. Gerald slammed on the brakes and tooted his horn until the big fella lumbered off into the bush. Kazinga really was an amazing experience that I'll never forget.
I'll be writing up next week the last part of my holidays - X-mas, New Years, Kenya pt. 2 and Zanzibar.
From an internet cafe in Arusha, near Kilimanjaro,
Benny
Kenya 1 - Our Ugandan visas expired at the beginning of December and so this gave us an opportunity to visit one of Uganda's neighboring countries. Living in a Kenyan border town meant the choice was obvious. Unfortunately it also meant having to deal with the bureaucracy and red tape that developing countries are infamous for - the immigration officer only dropped the visa charge to its real price after we demanded proof that it had actually doubled. He then took us out for a soda to make up for his blatant law-breaking. And so a group of six of us headed to our first stop on our Kenyan trip, Nakuru - home of the Kenyan cheese-making industry - and so after eating our fill of cheese and peanut butter sandwiches we settled down for a night at the delightful care guest-house (two pound a night). We spent the majority of our time that week, camping on Lake Navaisha and being kept awake at night by the honking hippos crawling out onto the shore. A day was spent at the ominously named 'Hell's Gate' National Park, where we did a bicycle safari (!) We cycled ridiculously close to wild antelope, zebra, warthog, buffalo and giraffe. If that didn't have me gasping for breath the 3 hour gorge walk in the boiling African sun led by a local masai warrior (who clearly enjoyed torturing tourists by speed walking), certainly did. Did I mention that 'Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life' was filmed here? (probably the most exciting piece of information about this trip). Joe the masai's chat was very interesting - he told me all about the time he killed a lion with a spear and when Angelina Jolie drank his cow's blood.
Mt.Elgon - After taking a short lapse from the painstaking walks, I was back for seconds. Myself, Finn and Rosie decided it would be great to do a four day hike up Uganda's Mt.Elgon - and therein lied our great error. 9 hours walking uphill, 25km a day. No, really the hike was amazing fun, but it was in no means luxurious. As anyone who has climbed Kili will tell you, even in Africa camping up a mountain is bitterly cold. So there we were: Me, Finn, Rosie and a random Israeli man we'd befriended up the mountain, dressed up in four layers (plus sleepingbag), spooning in our tent til the cows came home. And I still couldn't sleep because of the cold. Food wasn't michelin standard either as you can only eat what you can carry and so meals consisted of much pasta, tinned tuna, peanut butter sarnies and a rather large quantity of glucose biscuits. We made it to Wagagai peak and 4321m above sea level by lunch time on the 3rd day and it really felt like an achievement. The walk back down was more rough than any of the days climbing up as we practically ran down the back-breaking-ly steep mountainside. After finally hitting the road we were given the option of either walking the last 8km to the guide center or catching a boda boda. It wasn't a hard decision.
Kazinga - Since the long holidays are really long, Project Trust encourage volunteers to do secondary projects. So I arranged with school headmaster Gerald to spent a week at Kazinga; an exceptionally rural fishing village in the Queen Elizabeth National Park and my original project destination before it was changed. When I arrived on Gerald's motorbike a massive herd of primary school children chased after the bike, through the little side streets, screaming with happiness and then clutching at me in hundreds of little hugs once I'd disembarked. I spent a lot of my time that week playing games with the kids (who were very happy to tell me all about their lived in the local language - shame I can't speak it). I also helped with preparing for the church Christmas party - a big event in the Kazinga social calendar - and my chores involved helping the mamas peel the hundreds of matoke bananas with a knife and doing a shopping run to Kasese. Needless to say the party was a hit (and I was certainly hungry after sitting through a 5 hour church service in a foreign language). On my first morning in Kazinga I was woken up by Gerald saying 'Ben, wake up. You're missing something special!'. I crawled outside, sleepy-eyed, to see a huge African elephant munching on leaves right beside the long-drop toilet. That is the exciting thing about Kazinga is the village residents share their front doorstep with the local wildlife, and I saw plenty of it every day - elephants, warthog, hippos, buffalo and gazelle. On our trip to Kasese, we were speeding around the dirt-track corners on a motorbike and literally nearly crashed into the side of a huge bull elephant. Gerald slammed on the brakes and tooted his horn until the big fella lumbered off into the bush. Kazinga really was an amazing experience that I'll never forget.
I'll be writing up next week the last part of my holidays - X-mas, New Years, Kenya pt. 2 and Zanzibar.
From an internet cafe in Arusha, near Kilimanjaro,
Benny
Friday, November 26, 2010
By the skin of my penis
Scoreboard
Me 4 - 0 Giant Cockroaches
Me 4 - 0 Giant Cockroaches
Me 2 - 0 Mice
Me 0 - 1 Rapids of the Nile
I was lead through a small banana plantation, stepping through the lush green tropics of eastern Uganda. We approached a crowd of about 250 Ugandan men and women that formed a semicircle around a small mudhut home. We stopped, unsure where we should stand for a good view and were taken an interest in by a group of Bagisu tribe teenage boys. They asked questions like 'What Scottish tribe are you from?' and 'Do they circumcise in the UK?'. We were then spotted by a man who called us to sit at the front in seats given to visitors and we sat down beside a man from Bwindi in the far south-west who looked just as apprehensive as we were. Within the semicircle of people, eight men stood holding what looked like sharp butter knives, rubbing dirt into their hands. Two trauplin squares covered in dirt lay on the ground. Men protected the entrance to the semicircle holding long canes. Finn and I didn't have long to wait as a parade of dancing people appeared atop the nearby hill. The crowd was suddenly on their feet and I feel that the chairs were ever so slightly pointless. They march down the hill chanting and dancing to the beat of a drum. As they reached the circle of people a man jumped forward, swigging from a pot of alcohol which he then sprayed from his lips onto the ground. Two boys of about eighteen stepped forward, their faces and upper bodies were coated in a mix of ash and mud, their torsos wrapped in beads and in their hands they held outstretched two shrubs. They looked immensely tribal and I felt honored to be there. Out from the hut ran a woman carrying a long wooden paddle which she then struck each of the boys with to symbolise the last time a mother will beat her child. The boys moved forward and were stopped above the two squares of traup, their eyes were wide and staring and their hands moved to the beat. A whistle was blown and suddenly the men with knives rush forward and all is chaotic. The poor boys were stripped below the waist and the view is (thankfully) barred by the cramming of people. A second whistle is blown only ten seconds later to signify the completion of the task - the crowd goes wild, cheering, chanting and singing in tribal ecstacy. The boys have not moved an inch, nor shed a tear or even twitched slightly during the entire ordeal, bar their hands that still are swaying to the drumbeat. They were both completely absorbed in their trance and their circumcised penises were shown to the crowd which has gone wild. I feel slightly queasy even though I haven't been all that distressed by the ceremony. Quickly , Finn and I escaped back to our house, reeling from what we'd just seen. Later when texting my Dad, his words of wisdom to me are 'Make sure and hold onto your own'. Thanks Dad.
That of course was my description of the Bagisu circumcision ceremony that happens daily in my local area. I can lie awake at night and listen to the drumbeat and the chanting of the crowds as they parade past my accommodation, and I'm reminded that I'm in Africa. It's coming up to being three months now that I've been here, something that is really quite daunting yet still far off the twelve months I've signed on for. I still miss the silly little things like food (crisps and hummus, please!) or hanging out with friends or just watching TV. I'd love to be able to come home, if just for a day, but that obviously isn't an option for me and I know that there is still so much more for me to experience and learn.
Leaving home is quite a big deal for any teenager and I've had to deal with pretty much the same problems as any of my friends going to university. I'd say though, that my separation from my home life and my parents was more 'brutal' than maybe for others as I can't just come home at the weekend and their is little to relate to culture back in Scotland - but maybe it's been better that way. I've heard that having a lot of communication with home can bring about homesickness badly so for me it was easier, since it was a case of 'Bye bye now! See you next August'. And when I meet other volunteers from Europe while travelling they're genuinely shocked when I say I'm seventeen (and not because I look older, since I don't - I've still got my baby face :/) but because it's maybe quite a young age to be travelling alone(ish) in Africa. But then I'm coping fine, so does it matter? I've still got the parental presence though when they phone me up asking 'Why haven't you been more in contact!?' and 'Make sure you bring lots of sun protection, you don't want to get burnt!' I certainly wish I had them around to do my washing - never in my life have I had such a workout as wringing out soaked clothes.
This has been the last week of school and it has really slowed down as I've been doing less teaching and more invigilating of exams. It's quite a shame how pent up and nervous the kids get and in one P5 agriculture exam, Derek (who does a pretty fantastic cockerel impression) bit through his own pen and had to be excused so he could wash out the ink from his mouth. Last weekend we all went white water rafting down the Nile - see my whiteout pictures on facebook. It was soooooo much fun. Since school term is over now and it's the start of the very long 'summer' holidays I'll be able to do more things like rafting. I've made a few plans, like climbing Mt. Elgon to it's peak at 4321m (7th highest in Africa!), but next week is extra special. Being on a tight budget, but still wanting to experience an African safari, a group of six volunteers including me are going one a 'bicycle safari' in Kenya's rift valley. Imagine me cycling as fast as my legs can go away from a charging rhino. You've only got to cycle faster than the rest of the group, so I should be fine.
If I survive, speak soon,
Benny.
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