An important moment in the field...

Last week was a bit of a roller coaster for me. My feelings of loneliness and solitude that had been building for weeks finally peaked early in the week, but I reached out to some family and friends via email and received many wonderful words of encouragement and support. I also decided to take matters into my own hands and organized a game night with my colleagues. I was so happy that 8 people showed up at the local bar/restaurant Thursday night to play some dice (a game I’ve always played with my family on vacation). Friday I was invited to join two of my colleagues/friends for a night on the town. Lyantonde is a quiet place, but they showed me a few of their favorite spots and it was such an improvement on my normal Friday night alone! Whatever happened last week between the ups and the downs, I finally feel completely adjusted to my new life and fully immersed in the culture. I also had an important moment in the field on Thursday, one that truly opened my eyes to what I am a part of here and what I’d like to be a part of for a long time.

Some colleagues and I spent the day driving around the sub counties to do different things. First, we went to see the progress made on a few of the homes being built and I was pleasantly surprised to see that two of the families I had met just a few weeks ago already had new structures up on their property! The houses are still not complete, but they are complete enough for the families to live in them if they want. I could seriously feel a change in the air; the moods were different, they were lighter. Just being able to see that a house was being built for them, you could see that that was already changing their lives.
We also caught the end of a sanitation/hygiene training that was taking place for people living with AIDS (PLWAs) and the heads of child-headed households (CHHs). There were two girls in the back of the room that couldn’t have been more than 13 years old (above middle). They kept looking over at me with shy smiles. My colleague got them some notebooks and pens so they would pay attention and take some notes. She confirmed that they are orphans taking care of their younger siblings. These girls are so sweet and innocent, yet they have so much responsibility and so much tragedy already in their young lives. I looked at them in admiration of their courage and bravery.
I also noticed a woman breastfeeding her baby and seemingly pregnant with another. Her baby was so sweet, probably about a year old and obviously not thrilled to be stuck in this training with her mother! I kept looking at the baby and finally took her picture (above left). As I sat there watching her fidget and play, I thought…”if this woman has AIDS and she is breastfeeding her baby, her baby must be sick too.” I couldn’t get this thought out of my head. At the end of the training I asked one of my colleagues about the breastfeeding and the pregnancies. “Do these women know that if they have this disease and are breastfeeding, there is a very good chance that they are giving their children a fatal disease?” He said yes. “But do they UNDERSTAND? Because I’m not yet a mother, but I know that when I am I will never do anything that could harm my child. Do they really understand? Or do they just not care?” He said that they must understand because everyone knows that HIV/AIDS kills, so they must not care. I truly could not believe what he was telling me. As we talked, two women came out of the center, one with such a gaunt, sickly face. He told me they are both pregnant.
Our conversation continued for a few minutes as I tried my best to hold back my tears. How could this be? Why would these women bring children into this world who will suffer their entire lives from this disease? Why would they breastfeed their babies? Have they gotten them tested? Apparently, for the most part, the babies are not tested because the parents would rather not know. If they find out the children have AIDS they won’t be able to go on; they won’t be able to care for them knowing they have this incurable disease; they would be devastated if it was confirmed that they had passed on this tragic fate. There are three ways in which women living with HIV/AIDS can pass the disease on to their little ones: during pregnancy if she gets an infection on the placenta, during childbirth if the labor is not done in the care of a specifically trained physician or hospital (rare, in these rural cases) there is a good chance her blood will be transferred to the newborn, and by breastfeeding she increases the possibility even more. I understand that the lack of education and the increased poverty level of the people we’re working with are to blame for the fact that women continue to breastfeed, but it is still unbelievable. So many risks, so many chances to pass on this illness and the women are still having babies (because in many cases their husbands threaten to go elsewhere for sex if they don’t provide it and usually refuse to use condoms) and they are still breastfeeding. As all of these thoughts rushed in my head, I couldn’t hold in the tears any longer and I politely cut off my colleague as I walked away crying my first tears in the field. All of the children I have met since I arrived were flashing through my head. I had finally allowed myself to realize that some of them, although so innocent and unknowing, must have this terrible disease too. That moment gave me a new motivation and new determination…a new understanding…

…there are so many people in the world that need help for so many different reasons: war, poverty, disease, the list goes on. It seems an impossible task to help them all; and even in this small region in little Uganda it seems to be an unattainable goal to help all those suffering from or affected by the HIV/AIDS pandemic. But, my colleagues continue to fight, continue to try, and continue to lend helping hands. We stopped by so I could take pictures of one last family: a recent widower of AIDS, living with the disease (not yet on medication) and his four young boys (one pictured above right). There is a chance that the youngest, not yet walking, has the disease himself and an even greater chance that the boys will all be orphans taking care of themselves in the years to come. It is so true when people say you can see a person’s soul through their eyes…I could see all of theirs. I look forward to visiting this family again before I leave, once their new home is constructed, and to seeing a brighter, more hopeful future in their eyes.

Uncle Bob, I figured out how I can help save the world…I need to help save the children. We must save the children. We must mold and build their futures. We must give them an education and give them a chance. We must be their voices. If we do this, I believe we will be saving all of our tomorrows.

A Ugandan clown car...

I have a funny story today that I hope you enjoy! I took out a big chunk of detail because I was afraid I’d be accused of “using too many words” :) …but if I ever write my book, it’ll all be there or if you’re curious I can send it your way. Believe me, living the story wasn’t THAT enjoyable (although I’m getting a laugh as I write about it), but in the end it was very Ugandan and very much worth it (I stayed in a very peaceful, gorgeous and relaxing location; had a great hike to the “top of the world” [first pic above, storm coming over the forest], and ran into some baboons on my guided tour of the swamp and then again on my motorbike ride back to the guesthouse…there were about 30 or 40 just hanging out along the road!).

Last Wednesday I decided to plan a very last minute weekend trip after learning that all of my colleagues were going to be going home Thursday afternoon until Monday night due to the Easter holiday. It gets lonely enough on a regular weekend in my quiet town, so I looked at the map and decided that Kibale National Park would be a perfect destination: not too far, I guessed it would take about 4-6 hours, and it had been recommended by a friend in DC who had recently been there and also suggested a place to stay.

Friday, March 21
9:30 AM: Depart Lyantonde for Mbarara

10:30 AM: Arrive Mbarara to catch bus to Bigodi / Chimpanzee Guest House
1:00 PM: Depart Mbarara for Bigodi
4:00 PM: Arrive small, random town and am told to get on a different bus that will take me to Bigodi
5:30 PM: Arrive small, random town and am told to get into car that will take me to Bigodi

Really? You’re sure? What choice did I have? I got into the car and expected we would leave soon enough since there were already 3 others in the car. Two women approached a few moments later with a baby, one got in front to make 3 adults and a baby and one got in back to make four of us. It was a squeeze, but I thought…I’m almost there!

We pulled out but within minutes the driver stopped for 2 more women. I was shocked. WHERE were these women going to sit? I was already squeezed between the car door and the woman beside me and out of all the women in the car, I was the second smallest, even with my big hips! By the time we pulled away, there were 4 adults in front with a baby and 5 of us big hipped women in back. For the next hour my ass was not even on the seat, but instead wedged between the door and the woman next to me. My left butt cheek and leg were on the arm rest of the door, my right outer thigh anchored to the woman’s leg beside me, my right foot/leg holding as much weight as possible, my head and neck tilted to the right since I was sitting too high to sit up straight, both hands holding the arm handle above the door attempting to hold the weight that my leg couldn’t hold. Every time I thought we would be letting someone out and I would have some relief from this discomfort, someone else would be squeezed in. At one point there were 4 adults in front with 2 babies and 5 of us in the back with one toddler!!! Somehow, I eventually managed to get my right elbow between all the bags on the window sill behind me so that I could hold my tilted head up and provide some relief for my neck. Now, my boobs were cradling the left shoulder of the woman beside me and, in the confusion of this entire crazy situation, she mistook my crotch for the arm rest that my ass was hiding and rested her elbow and arm there.

Around 6:15 pm, 2 of the women in the back were dropped off, but one came back after buying some fruit. For those few minutes, it was just me, the woman next to me and her baby. My right leg, hip and neck were all quite sore from the last hour and ached, but I was happy for the moment of relief. We finally left that little town with 4 of us in the back; still not exactly comfortable…but at least my butt was in the seat and my head was no longer tilted to one side. As the woman next to me pulled her voluptuous breast out to feed her hungry baby girl, she elbowed me repeatedly in my own somewhat smaller, but still existent, right boob…this happened several times with not so much as an “excuse me”, but who am I to complain?

At 6:45 pm, after travelling for more than 9 hours, I was dropped off on the side of the road next to a sign that said CHIMPANZEE GUEST HOUSE. I could only hope that I had truly arrived…but, after the day I had just had, I was dubious. I was so excited at the start of the day; then my patience started to fade around 4 pm; my frustration mounted at 5; I was uncomfortable all day, but that peaked at 5:30 and didn’t let up til 6:30. If I had been in the states, I would have complained or argued with the transportation folks (or just driven the 4 hours to get there on my own!)…but as I am in another country, I must go with the flow of their lives. So, as I calmly looked out the window of that car and took deep breaths, I focused on two things: the men suffering true pain and discomfort in the non fiction novel I’m reading. In 1815, an American ship wrecked on the west coast of Africa and the men were taken captive as they reached the end stages of dehydration and starvation. Unfortunately, they were then forced to suffer further as they travelled throughout the Sahara with their unforgiving Arab captors. Already exhausted and weak, the men were bloodied from the skin on the inside of their legs chafing on the camels they were riding without saddles, their feet were shredded as they ran alongside the camels on the sharp stones to give their legs a rest, their naked bodies (the Arabs had taken all of their clothing) were literally roasted by the sun to the point of being covered in raw skin and they were wasting away due to a lack of food and water. How could I complain because I was stuffed tighter than a can of sardines into the Ugandan version of a clown car (which, coincidentally, was not funny AT ALL) whilst reading of the terrible true life suffering of these seamen??? The second thing I focused on? BEER. All I could hope was that at the end of this unbelievably and unexpectedly long day, there would be a beer available to drink!

And there was.

And a beautiful sunset too.

Three amazing stories from the field...

Jeez, I don’t even know where to begin. First let me explain…I didn’t actually celebrate my birthday for 5 days, that’s what I would have been tempted to do had I been home. It was a very quiet, calm and simple birthday (three words you probably won’t hear me use in the same sentence as “my birthday” for a long time)…but, it was just like Uganda and very lovely! And that picture I posted with the blog is with my first and only beer of the evening (delicious as it was…”when it hits your lips, it just tastes so good!”). I thought some of you may be missing the “Marci” face so I took that one for all of you :) !

Now…for my present blog. There’s absolutely no way I can ever describe to you the kind of off roading I endured yesterday…from 10:30-5:30. Cramped sometimes 4, or even 5, to a space that comfortably fits 3, and driving all through the hills of rural Uganda (re: no paved roads and LOTS of holes). By the end of the day, I was exhausted and my body was aching. But the purpose of the trip was to distribute seeds, machetes and hoes to the farmers; as well as to meet a few families and interview them, either pre or post house. So that part was great!

Again, in 2 cases, the women told their stories of how they were widowed by AIDS several years ago, only to find out shortly thereafter that they were also suffering from the disease themselves. One woman was so ill before she received any treatment, that the community actually told LWF/RACOBAO not to waste their time. They said she would be taken to the hospital just to die and then they would have to bring her lifeless body back. I could have never guessed that 3 years ago, this woman was on her deathbed because today she looks so healthy and happy. The women explained how ill they had been at one time, how hopeless; and how having the home and water tank built for them by LWF/RACOBAO truly changed their lives. Both women also received “Family Sufficient Kits” which included 2 beds, 2 mattresses, 2 blankets, 2 mosquito nets, jerry cans which are used to fetch water, cups and plates. They no longer had to worry about the cold, the rain, the mosquitoes which only made their illness worse and negatively affected their children; and they didn’t have to worry about fetching water (a task that can include walking a few miles round trip and be seriously exhausting, especially for someone suffering from HIV/AIDS). Their new kitchens also provide comfort in that they don’t have to worry about contamination as they did before.

For widows living with AIDS, having these new life necessities gives them an energy and confidence that they once lacked. The women also talked about how they no longer have to worry about their children and how they realize that even if they leave this world early, they know their children will be okay now because they have shelter and water. And they discussed with smiles, huge smiles, how grateful they are for that new sense of security. How their lives have changed considerably because with their psychological health now so much better, their physical health has seen positive improvements. They no longer get sick as frequently. They feel EMPOWERED and HOPEFUL. Two words that never sounded so beautiful before I saw them spoken with such happiness and gratitude. These women say that they, and the people around them, still can’t believe that they survived and overcame the dangerously awful situations that they were once in (widowed, weak, poor and sick with less than adequate shelter, no quality water source, little food, no security, constantly worrying about their children and the future)…and that now they are living such happy, full and fulfilling lives with their children fed and in school and all leading healthy lives. It is truly amazing what building a home for someone can mean. One woman even said that she is still amazed that she, as a woman, owns a home; that she never thought that could/would happen in her life and just that realization empowers her and gives her hope for the future. Amazing.

We visited one last family in the hills. A couple, who have yet to make it into town for their HIV/AIDS test results, and their 4 boys (ages 1 to 8 years old) who live on a plot of land that they own, but live in a structure built out of banana threads/leaves. The father, who is handicapped with a lame arm and leg, cannot help much with the farming, so the wife does almost all of the labor. She also walks a mile each way to make sure that they all have water to drink. As she nurses her youngest, she explains with a smile, that they eat porridge daily, made from the matooke (type of banana) and cassava that they grow; and occasionally have beans. If they are ever in need of anything else, she must work in the fields of her neighbors in exchange for whatever it is that they have that she needs. We leave all of the families with a few big bags of seed, a machete and a hoe for which they are visually very thankful…and we leave that last family also with hope. We will be building them a home soon and they know that will change their lives. They will no longer have to worry about their boys getting sick so often due to poor shelter, no blankets, no protection from the mosquitoes, etc…they will be able to rest with a bit of weight off their shoulders.

Amazing stories. Amazing families. Amazing women. And the smiles…you’d never forget those smiles!

CALL ME, I got my phone!

I finally got a phone on Friday and almost forgot to pass along my phone number! I am yearning to hear some friendly voices, so please give me a call anytime. I am 7 hours ahead of you (not 10, oops) and usually go to bed around midnight...but really, call anytime b/c as long as I hear the phone and am available, i will GLADLY pick up!!!

011 256 777 540 479

If you're calling from a landline without a phone card, try dialing 10-10-987 before the number. We use that to call my family in Ecuador and it gives a great rate.

xoxoxoxoxo, M

My birthday in Uganda...

As a lot of you know, I love to celebrate my birthday. What can I say? I think it's worth celebrating the beginning of a new year in your life, especially if you are happy with where you are in your life or where you are hoping to go. You know? I think everyone should celebrate big...but to each their own:). Usually I would have jumped at the chance to celebrate all weekend...with my birthday on Thursday and St. Patty's Day today, it all just blends together for 5 days of fun (if you have the energy!). But this year was much much quieter than all of my other birthdays...and still very nice. I was taken to a local restaurant/bar to enjoy my first African/Ugandan beer...fittingly a Nile Special; and received 2 necklaces, one each from the 2 colleagues who took me out. It was a very nice night and very appreciated that they took the time to hang out with me!
For the weekend, I decided to head to Kampala to check out it's infamous (or notorious) nightlife. Staying with a a friend of a friend, Gerold, I had the chance to meet several of his friends...all foreigners/expats...and get a taste of their Kampala life. We enjoyed some gin and tonics (yum!), some dancing, some great food (I indulged in many foods that are unavailable to me in Lyantonde such as Italian, Chinese, and lots of beef/meat!), one of the popular casinos (I played pontoon, the Ugandan version of blackjack), we visited an orphanage which was amazing (the kids were all sooo smiley and happy; i fell in love with little Victor pictured above), and I even caught Charlie Wilson's War at the theatre. It was a wonderful escape from rural life, but I was so excited to get back here to the farm. It's seems that it will be important for me to find a balance between my rural life in Lyantonde/working with RACOBAO and exploring the country and meeting other foreigners. It just helps to have a sense of familiarity every once and a while...it's rejuvenating and, I think, necessary.

So now, it is back to work...I realized while away that I only have 3 months left and with all that I hope to do with RACOBAO and exploring the country/region...I have to really get on it! So, now that I am adjusted to my new environment, I will start getting more involved with the work and begin to plan my different trips which include Lake Mburo Nat'l Park b/c it's only 30 km away and there are ZEBRAS; Queen Elizabeth Nat'l Park; Jinja for white water rafting on the Nile, a must do; and a trip to Murchison Falls in the north...lots of wildlife and country to be seen in all of these trips! Can't wait:).

I hope you're all wonderful! Lots of love...

My living environment...

I haven’t had a chance to paint you a picture of my new living conditions yet…very simple. It’s kind of like I’m camping! I have a great room with two beds and a cabinet for clothes and then a little dresser for food and such; plus my own bathroom with running water, toilet and shower. I love sleeping underneath the mosquito net…although I haven’t experienced a big problem with mosquitoes or bugs in general…it does make me worry less about bugs crawling on me in the middle of the night! I’ve always hated bugs/spiders/etc. I don’t have a TV or radio (although I brought a few DVDs to watch on my laptop and have some limited itunes); no mirror except the tiny one on my little Razor phone from home. My shared kitchen consists of a fridge, sink, dresser for dishes and food staples and a hot plate with two burners. When the power is out (which happens almost daily) I get to use a karosene burner thingy and also my karosene lantern to light my room at night. Finally, to wash clothes, I soak them in a laundry basin with soap and water for about an hour, then scrub them a bit, rinse a few times to make sure soap is out, squeeze out all the water and hang. Just like camping…don’t you think??? And not too bad at all!

Now, for what I really wanted to tell you about today, about the most amazingly pleasurable experience I had this morning...the happiest moment I've had since I arrived…a hot shower! Now, it’s not the kind of warm shower you are imagining, as it was a bit of a process…but I am just so excited that I can make it happen on a regular basis (at least I hope!) because mornings are a bit chilly here! First, I tried just putting the water heater on, got out of bed an hour early to turn it on and waited an hour to give it a chance to warm up…but it was still cold. SO, I made several trips with pitchers of hot water from the sink in the kitchen (still can’t figure out why it gets hot in there so easily but not in my bathroom), filled one of my laundry basins up and set it on my toilet. Then, lathered up and showered by pouring pitchers of the hot water over my head and ducking slightly into the cold shower water to even out the temperature. It was truly amazing! I stood there smiling and said to myself, “the smaller things in life really ARE what make us so happy.” What an exhilirating start to a gorgeous day here…

A time of mourning...

My forever angel

Well, I haven’t even had a chance to share my first post with most of you, and unfortunately, my second one must start with sadness. There is just no way that I can avoid acknowledging the loss of one the most important people in my life…my angel, my grandma. My biggest fear when I came on this journey to Uganda was not of being eaten by a lion or kidnapped by rebels (serious risks in some parts of Africa so my friends liked to remind me)…but of being so unbearably far away when my tired and weak grandmother passed away. It is hard to describe the complete devastation a person can feel when you read an email giving you such heartbreaking news, especially when you are so impossibly far from all those by whom you yearn to be...

And on a day in which I had been a part of some important moments in the community…meeting organic farmers eager to learn what they can do to better their production (and sharing with them my own sister’s organic farming journey); meeting a woman living with AIDS looking for assistance with a new home or at least a better food supply…she is a widow of HIV, mother to 3 children, taking care of a 4th child (her brother’s child) because he too succumbed to the disease; and finally meeting a woman whose house was destroyed in a storm last year and has been living in a makeshift shelter with 4 of her 9 children…she too a widow of AIDS, who remarried just to be abandoned by that second husband and left with 3 small children for which to care. All of them telling their stories with such grace and dignity in the face of such hardship. It was such a productive day in the field…my second of many…and it helped me see what I am here to do. Whether or not I am able to figure out how to update RACOBAO’s website (something they were really hoping I could help with and I’m still putting my best foot forward!)…I was full of hope today and had many thoughts of different possibilities and networking that can be done to help make things happen. Of course, I will have to lean on all of you reading this for help and support in realizing some of those thoughts and hopes…but there is so much hope. There is so much to be done and this organization and its staff are amazing. They truly care about the well being of their neighbors and have so many projects going on it’s hard to keep track of them all. They never stop smiling, even after a long day out in the field meeting with different people in need or interviewing potential volunteer counselors…their smiles are still there and it is truly amazing. Their compassion, kindness, genorisity and sincerity is unwavering and inspiring.

It was my new friend and colleague, Goretti, who helped me phone my family while I was in tears. And Ruth who told me to stay strong, Steven as well…obviously understanding my pain, but knowing they could do little to help. Most of the staff goes home on the weekend to be with the families that they spend the week missing...but Goretti actually cancelled her trip home so that we can spend the day together tomorrow. There was no talking her out of it, she did not want me to be alone…she will be here at 11 to walk with me to town for lunch. In a moment when I felt sooooo alone and far from the people I wish I could be with, the compassion of these very new friends and colleagues reminded me of the beauty in this world.

So, my final words today are for my dear sweet angel...it is so difficult to pay tribute to the amazing woman that you were in simple words, but in a very meager attempt to honor one of the most beautiful people that I will ever have the pleasure of knowing… For so many years now, you have been my living angel and it is with great sorrow (and selfishness) that I must admit that you are now my angel from above. I know you have gone to a beautiful place, a place that you deserve to be more than anyone else…but I truly wanted to have you here with me forever. I hate that I am so far away and unable to be with you and all those that love you; but please take with you forever all of my love. You will always be with me…your sweet smile, your soft skin, your gorgeous shining white hair, your beautiful blue eyes, your comforting and loving hugs…every touch, every moment, everything…you will always be with me. I carry you with me…I carry you with me in my heart.

First days in Lyantonde

Well, it's hard to believe, but I've made it...I'm in my new town in Uganda! It was quite the journey getting here, both from figuring out the logistics stateside (including moving out of my house, tying up loose ends, quitting my job at The Quincy, taking care of my dental emergencies, packing, etc.) and the actual journey flying from DC to London (3 fabulous days in London spent with 4 friends I hadn't seen in almost 4 years!) and then London to Entebbe. Upon arrival at the airport (9 am), I was greeted by RACOBAO's director and we drove the hour to Kampala where we then spent a few hours driving around running errands for both of us. Then a 3 hour drive to Lyantonde. I slept most of the day in the car...my body clock was just all messed up...and we arrived at the office and my new home at 5 pm! Wow. But I made it:).

The last few days have been quite calm and relaxing...as I feel daily life in Uganda tends to be. I think my body is finally adjusted to the new time zone...10 hours ahead of east coast...so that helps. I have met a lot of the people who work here; gone to the market with Ruth and Goretti for pineapple, passion fruit and guacomole fixings:); eaten goat, but passed on the traditional breakfast of plantain and cow intestines; gone into the field and observed as they interviewed potential volunteers; read/written by karosene lantern light just like Laura Ingalls (power goes out often); enjoyed a few cold showers (not sure if water actually gets warm); been greeted at my front door by a few grazing cows; and I've been followed by several different possies of children excited to see a white person (Mzungu)...i think some of them may have never seen anyone like me before! So, it's been a good week so far...I completely lose track of time and days, which is kind of nice in a way. It's so carefree; very little stress. It is very quiet in this little town, except for the birds; and at night it is quite dark because there are no street lights anywhere. It is quite a simple life; many soft spoken people; lots of smiles.

So, all is well. I plan to explore this weekend a bit and will write again soon. I cannot say thank you enough to all of you who have supported me for so long; through all of my good/happy moments and all of the hard/sad ones. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you and for all of your love and patience and understanding. Thank you forever from the bottom of my heart...I carry you always with me.