Mich and school

It's almost a month since Mich started kindergarten in Kampala. We figured it would be a good experience for him, interacting, playing and learning with other kids.

The first day was a sweet sour experience, dropping him off and saying “bye Mich, see you later, be a good boy, have fun, don’t fight, I love you”. Now I know you may say, wasn’t Mich going to play school in Philly, why does school here have to be such a shake up? I don’t know.
I’m thinking that maybe it’s the seriousness with which school is regarded over here. In Philly reporting time was 9 o’clock, kids of all ages were in the same play area. There was no formality to it, no uniforms, and no classes as such. All I needed to do was sign him in, and make sure he has entered the class. From that point it was up to him to either join the kids playing with Lego, running around, painting, fixing puzzles, reading or playing instruments. Then at some point they would go to the play ground run around, have a little snack, listen to a story and then go home.
Mich’s first day at Aga Khan;
We drive into the school parking lot and the head mistress and one other teacher are eagerly welcoming children as they are being dropped off by their parents/guardians. Mich was given extra attention because this was his first day of school, we were escorted to the administration block where we met his class teacher. She had a wonderful smile and was extremely enthusiastic, it was a little scary. Then again she wasn’t the only one; all the other teachers had similar energy and enthusiasm. I thought hmm these teachers seem to love the children like they were their own, that’s a good thing.
Three hours later when I went to pick Mich up, I found them all seated on the school veranda waiting. Mich wasn’t there though, he was moving around with one of his teacher.
When I asked him how his day was he put on his serious face and said it wasn’t good, he didn’t like it. There was no explanation for why it wasn’t good, either that or he didn’t want to talk about it. The funny thing is he couldn’t stop talking about the different things he did, that left me a little confused.
Next morning he didn’t want to go to school so there was a lot of talk about how cool he would look in his new uniform and stuff, before I knew it he was off. He left me with instructions to be there on time, he wanted to find me waiting when he got out.
It’s interesting watching the kids, they all seem quite content, skipping around, taking interest in any adults around, talking to each other, smiling, laughing – it’s clear that they love school and they are loved. I saw this one little boy run towards one of the teachers and wrap his arms tightly around her legs – he was clearly thrilled to see her again after the holidays. That was a sign that the teachers are good.
So I waited for school to end and then children started trickling out of their classes to the waiting area.
I saw Mich bouncing along with a big grin on his face, he was clearly happy, he said ‘mummy today was a little better’, I knew that was an understatement because he was obviously tripping over himself with a wealth of stories.

Watoto Conference - Celebrate the African Child

The show was described as “a unique cultural experience” – but in simple terms I would call it a praise rally. The Watoto children showed amazing talent, singing and dancing. We were transported to the central part of Uganda - Buganda for the “Bakusimba” dance, then all the way up North - Gulu for the “Bwola” dance, down to the west – Ankole for the “Kitogoro” and then flew to America for some hip-hop.
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys - I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, as they danced they hit the calabashes with metal sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horns in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.

We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope where all the KPC celebration points gathered at the Mandela Stadium.

Watoto Conference Day 3

The show was described as “a unique cultural experience” – but in simple terms I would call it a praise rally. The Watoto children showed amazing talent, singing and dancing. We traveled to central part of Uganda - Buganda for the “Bakusimba” dance, then all the way up North - Gulu for the “Bwola” dance, down to the west – Ankole for the “Kitogoro” and then flew to America for some hip-hop.
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist, all to the rhythm of the drum. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys, I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, they danced and the hit the calabashes with sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horn in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.
We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope that all the KPC celebration points gather

Watoto Conference

KPC organized the 2nd Watoto Conference, hosting delegates from all over Africa and around the world. There were 500 delegates all together, 250 from Africa, 50 from the churches around Kampala and 200 from other parts of the world.
Gary feels God has called him to carry the vision of looking after widows and orphans, in Uganda they are mainly victims of the LRA war in Northern Uganda. The purpose of the conference was really to equip other pastors in Africa to replicate the Watoto model.
He put it something like this; - Hill song Australia is known for their wonderful worship, Yunghu Chow is known for the Cell model, and God has called him to lead in regard to looking after the widows and orphans.

The conference started on Wednesday but for many reasons I couldn’t attend, so I figured I would go for the Thursday morning session. It was open to the public and less crowded – I tell you, I don’t click KPC these days, its jam packed, actually over flowing and then some. Everybody wants to be the “one”, at some point if feels like competition. I will tell you that Sunday service kind of feels like getting into a movie theatre without allocated seating. Every one is rushing to enter and take a seat before the show begins, if you are late too bad, all the seats are gone, then the ushers try to find spaces, if not you are kindly or unkindly ushered to the overflow and that sucks.
Anyway I was talking about how I opted to attend the morning session. At 9 prompt, the worship begun, it was lead by non other than Darlene herself. I love her heart for God, she seems sold out through and through, she puts all her energies right there and you can see it. The music filled the temple, it was loud and clear and exciting, I jumped and danced, it’s always wonderful to ‘let down my hair’ in the presence of the Lord and among His people.
Marilyn Skinner talked about using our Christian faith to bring justice and hope, she quoted Jeremiah 22 that talks about putting the wrong things right. We as Christians should be impressed to make the community livable again.
She invited David a former LRA abducted child soldier to testify, my! You could have heard a pin drop as David’s story unfolded. I just thought, man! There times I think I have experienced some really painful things until I hear someone else tell what burden they are carrying.
David looked about 19 years old, he spoke slowly and clearly about how the LRA forced him to kill every living creature in the village as a form of initiation. When he accomplished that, he was congratulated with 150 strokes of the cane. He was told to get a uniform and a gun from a government soldier and of course the only way to do that was by killing him. He was told to kill babies by tying them to a tree and hitting them until they died. Oh! My heart broke, no one created in the image and likeness of God should ever do such things or have such things done to them. I was crushed.
Then he shared about the hope he now has in Christ, the night mares are gone, he is looking to a bright future and aspires to be a doctor.

The next speaker came as a big surprise to me; he was the last person I imagined but yet again the most appropriate. Norbert Mao, LC5 for Gulu district. He had an interesting speech. For starters he is not born again, he is a politician, so the whole idea of giving a talk in church was, well, uncomfortable (he said so himself).
I liked the fact that he embraced the opportunity; he said the one thing he had in common with Gary and Marilyn was they all ended up where they didn’t intend – Gary looking after widows and orphans, him becoming the M.P for Gulu.
He mentioned how Young Egland had called the war in Northern Uganda one the worlds most forgotten conflicts.
He acknowledged that Him and Gary were serving God in different ways and how that was an opportunity for them to partner. He said “There is no better place to start but through spiritual renewal”.
He ended on the most interesting note. A child once asked an adult what Jesus said when He rose from the dead, the adult was at a loss and the kid informed the adult that Jesus said “ta-da!” So just when the people of Northern Uganda thought all hope was lost, “ta-da!” Jesus showed up, Gary showed up and so on.

At the end of the morning session we were all in tears, I felt God was saying his heart is bleeding for these children.

After that Dr. Robi Sonderegger talked about his involvement in training the people in trauma rehabilitation. It’s about rescuing the widows and orphans (even the men), raising them up and rebuilding their lives. “It’s about people and community” he said, God is calling us to serve our community.



The next session I attended was Thursday evening, I got to the church and found a thick loooong line, people cueing up to enter the church. It was a sight to behold, I’m sure some people might have just turned around and gone home.
Turns out that the cue was for those interested in sitting in the auditorium, I didn’t mind sitting outside so I gladly went to the over flow. Security was tight, the volunteers were giving orders about where to sit, it was rather upsetting. I had never been on this side of things, I was always on the inside with the choir. Now I’m not sure if this is what all the other church members feel or it’s because I’ve known better.

The evening session begun and as I cried out to the Lord about how lost I felt, not feeling at home, at home, He asked me, “who are you looking for?”, that was enough to shut me up. I had a wonderful time, “I couldn’t find myself in Philly, and I can’t find myself in Uganda, but I always find Jesus”, that was the main point, what more would a woman want?

Silence

Man! it's almost a month since I last posted anything here, I can't believe it.
Ok, it's crazy over here, everything is crazy and jammed, I don't even know where to start. But boy do I have a thousand and one stories to tell.

Watch this space

A getaway at Governors Club Gayaza

It was nice to finally get away from the chaos in the city, to lie back, read, eat, sleep and stretch in a serene environment.
After two years of hurried moments together, going on dates and thinking about getting back home because the baby sitter is charging $10 for every hour and considering that the count begins the minute we stepped out the door – this break was much needed. I knew that coming back to Kampala would give me the chance to leave Mich at home and go on a date with Sam where I would actually be present with him – body, mind and all.

I found out about a fantastic get-away location somewhere out of town. After I made enquiries I received a call almost every other day to confirm when and at what time we would be arriving. When the owner himself called, I thought this is really serious, this place must be something else.
The journey was long and dusty; it felt like we were driving to the end of civilization. We set out at about 3:30pm and were on the road for about an hour before we got to the last land mark we had been given. We asked a guard for directions but instead he signaled us to follow him, that was strange because we were driving and he was on foot. Anyway we drove slowly behind him until we reached a gate then he showed us the way. But we were thinking, he could have easily given us the directions from the start, there was nothing complicated but he certainly made us feel like it was a secret hideout that one doesn’t speak about idly.
There were no shops near by but stretches of grass and more grass, Sam hoped it was worth the drive because there is nothing like getting to an island and realizing that it’s not all that and yet there is no turning back.

We loved the place, it was certainly an oasis right in the middle of a desert, worth the journey. We drunk it in, and our thirst was quenched. A huge house built right in the middle of a huge compound, surrounded by huge trees. Once inside its gates you forgot the busy, chaotic, jam packed, potholed, dusty city with all it’s cares outside. The flowers and potted plants looked like they each had a personal gardener whose life depended on seeing them flourish. Nature smiled upon us with a contentment that we couldn’t deny because the feeling was mutual. The breath of fresh, pure, clean air, birds cooing and chirping, cows mooing, goats bleating in the distance, the sound of the wind tickling the leaves as they swayed from side to side served as a medicine for the body and mind.




I felt like I was visiting a rich uncle who happened to be out of town but gave us the key to his house and the services of his servants.
Two young men tended to us for the entire time we were there, they cooked some really awesome meals.
As we waited to have diner I read the novel that I’d carried – “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Hosseini Khaled. Simply amazing, I love his nark for detail, his descriptions of places and events is so rich you could literally see it happening. But even with all this I could not deny the hunger pangs that were pinching at my intestines. Meanwhile the Youngman in the kitchen was not helping because the whiff sailing into the sitting room was to die for. I begun to thank God for the ingredients – cooking oil, onions, green pepper, tomatoes, carrots, I thanked God for chicken and all those nice things and all this an hour before it was ready.
By the time we were invited to the table I was in sprint mode.
I found it interesting that we were never asked what we wanted to eat, we ate what the cook thought best for the day. It was kind of nice anticipating and guessing what was for dinner, the surprise was part of the fun.
The pillows were brick-hard, the room was boiling hot but it was still good to be there.

Next morning I managed to catch the sun rising, it was a magnificent sight. With the sounds of the animals rousing, belting out good mornings to each other, birds warming their vocals and then singing sweetly, the smell of the morning dew and looking up into the clear blue sky, there is no doubt in my mind that there is a God and creation rises to honor Him.
Later that morning with the sun not yet in full glare, we went horse riding through the village. Ibrahim taught us how to mount a horse, place the left leg in the hook and swing the right leg over the horse to get onto its back. I went first, when it was Sam’s turn, he swung and the next time I looked he was down on the other side of the horse. Turns out that he swung a little too hard hehehe. Now I laugh but it wasn’t so funny then.



Ibrahim also told us that to make the horse trot or move faster we had to kick it sides, to stop – pull the rope tight around its mouth, to move left or right – pull the rope in that particular direction. It’s amazing how well trained the horses were.
People in the village hardly see the horses and when they do they prefer to keep their distance, I was thinking ‘what kind of harm would a horse do to some one who isn’t bothering it?’ but anyway …
I think horses are one of the most elegant animals I know. I love the fact that they are not too big, they are steady, goodness they are just beautiful, what else can I say?
Hmm! Reminds me of the fact that I still get teary eyed watching ‘Animal Farm’, especially when ‘Boxer’ is being taken away.
The children on the other hand were thrilled, they stopped what ever they were doing, run up to the road side and shouted ‘embaraasi, embaraasi’, I imagine that is the word for horse in luganda.