Getting my life in order with a few stitches

I have had some time to think and absorb what happened the first weeks of this year. And I have thought a lot about what I have missed since I arrived back in Uganda. I have been soooo unfocused and unmotivated, most especially this last month because of the holidays and then the unexpected drama. So I am trying to regain my focus and am going to do some work that I came here to do in the first place.

I spent Friday with a small, rural organization in Eastern Uganda (RARUDO) that is very similar to RACOBAO, the AIDS organization in the south that I worked with in the spring. I was the “guest of honor” and treated to many songs and dances by the women the organization helps; told about the work the organization does for the women, children, elderly and disabled in the community; shown two of the members’ farms and told how the organization has changed their lives; treated to delicious local food and really made part of their family for the day. It was beautiful and amazing to see their spirits, hear their stories and just be in their presence. And so wonderful to be back in the rural communities watching Ugandans help other Ugandans. I left them with a $130 donation (250,000 Ugandan Shillings) from the money we raised this summer at the fundraisers. It wasn’t my intention before going that I would do this, but after meeting the people in the organization and seeing how they are truly trying to help change the lives of community members in need in a sustainable way…well, I realized that the money we raised was meant for such projects and such people and it only seemed right. It wasn’t a large donation…but if the founder and executive director doesn’t have to put so much of his own money in this month (since 1996 he has put in about US $35,000), then it’s not too small either.

Spending the day with RARUDO got me so excited about heading back to Lyantonde to work with RACOBAO again. I had already made plans to go for 2-3 weeks in February before the holidays, but I am going to stay a bit longer than that. I want to be a part of that team and that family again; I want to be a bigger part of that work while I’m still here. I want to do what I loved and what made me want to come back in the first place. Of course I loved the river too, but coming back to the river has taken me away from RACOBAO. So hopefully I’ll have some better blogs to write soon enough!

In the meantime, a quick kayaking story: Last Tuesday, I finally had another chance to go on the river to practice rolling in the moving water and kayaking in general. I was so excited about spending the day on the water (it’s soooo peaceful) and attempting my first Grade 3. After the first 2 hours and a few Grade 2s, we took a break for lunch. When we got back in the water, I was meant to walk around 2 bigger rapids and then paddle down to the Grade 3 for practice. Unfortunately, I never made it. I was trying to get back into my kayak from the rocks, but they were very slippery and even with one of the local village boys holding the boat, I kept slipping. At one point, I felt as though I had just rubbed my foot the wrong way on the rock and stopped for a moment cringing with temporary pain. When I finally got into the kayak, I saw some blood in the boat…I had sliced my big toe pretty badly. It wouldn’t stop bleeding and I could even see some of the inside of my toe on the outside! I couldn’t believe it…NO NO NO! I wanted to continue on to the Grade 3, but knew that I really shouldn’t/couldn’t. Ugh. So, I made my way to the hospital in town and got the first 3 stitches of my life. Too bad the doctor (who had my friend assisting him instead of a nurse) didn’t numb my entire toe, so when he put the first stitch in at the bottom, where the cut was the worst, I felt every part of that stitch and cried out in pain. He said, “not to worry, that will be the worst one, I guess I just didn’t put enough of the medicine down there.” Oh…really! I thought he should've put a few more stitches in so that the wound could've healed a bit better, but at the time, I just wanted off his table! So, I’ve been limping around for the last 6 days trying not to get it infected and hoping that no jiggers find their way into the wound. In the process of trying to protect my toe and not step on the cut, I have upset the left side of my foot that I am walking on and in more pain from that than from the cut. Go figure! But hopefully I’ll get the stitches out on Wednesday and have a chance to enjoy the river before heading south for 5 weeks. The no swimming/no river thing is KILLING ME! Especially because it’s soooo hot and dry here…but hey, I’m not complaining (sorry everyone at home in the cold, wintry season) :).

PS...PITTSBURGH's GOING TO THE SUUUUPPPERR BOWL!

New Year's Eve 2008 and what followed

What a year so far. I hesitate to even attempt to explain how the first three weeks of 2009 have played out for me...I have tried writing this many times, but keep stopping myself. It's just so ridiculous and indescribable, and just so hard to try to explain to anyone who hasn't been here, because those of us who live here can't even understand the madness. But at the same time, I feel that it’s important to tell all parts of my story.

New Years Eve was something I looked forward to since I arrived. I was just so excited to experience that holiday here in Uganda with my friends at the campsite overlooking the Nile…being in the village, at the river that I love surrounded by the people I considered to be my closest friends here. I had no idea that the night could go so terribly wrong, but at almost 11:30 pm, I found myself in a physical fight with one of my best friends here. The same Ugandan that I had had trouble with at the end of November erupted with drunken anger that I still cannot understand and attacked me. I could not believe what was happening. When one of the forty or so people on the balcony finally stepped in and pulled him off of me (I was on the ground at this point, but still trying to defend myself), I was told to move away as he continued yelling crazy things to me whilst being held back by at least six other guys. It was insane. So, when the rest of the crowd (who had no idea what had happened outside) started counting down the last seconds of 2008 and celebrating the New Year, I was standing amongst them alone, still in shock and in no mood to celebrate myself. What an awful way to bring in the New Year…but things were only going to get worse.

As I was waking up on January 1st and trying to process the events of the night before, I felt sad, confused and disappointed and wanted to talk with him to find out why all of that had happened and to try to mend our friendship. And in those same moments (7:30 am) in a village room 20 minutes away, he was scripting the first of four text messages he would send in the following days. They were hateful, offensive, threatening and full of expletives…and at the time, they were very hurtful. How can someone you spend so much time laughing with and smiling with and just having easy happiness with…how can they be so willing to not only throw that away, but to be so cruel in the process? I just couldn’t understand having such a reaction. I couldn’t understand having such anger towards a good friend, attacking them both physically and emotionally and then not want to talk about it and try to fix it. I just don’t understand where any of that craziness came from…and it didn’t stop there.

Over the next several days not only did I find out that other people I had considered friends were talking badly about me, but I found out that the one I fought with was telling lies about what happened on NYE and trying to convince everyone in the village and at the campsite to stay away from me and not be my friend. People judge people here because we are different (when I say "here", I don't mean Uganda, I mean in this specific group of human beings living at the river). Rather than embrace the differences and learn from them, people judge. You would never know that they are judging you as you dance with them or chat with them, as you smile and laugh with them…but apparently some of the people here are enjoying your company on the outside and on the inside they are judging you for the very things that they themselves are doing. There is quite a double standard amongst people in this circle: I could do the very same thing that a Ugandan is doing, but I am wrong or a bad person because I’m doing it and no one thinks twice about the Ugandan. In the first two weeks of the year, as I tried every day to stand tall and keep my chin up, I would learn about something else someone was saying or thinking about me or receive another message and just crumble. It was so hard to be in this town and look around at the people I thought were my friends (or at the very least, I never looked at anyone as though they were my enemy) and wonder which of them truly ARE my friends/aren't my enemy. It’s just difficult to be surrounded by such negativity, such deceit, such lies, such hate…living amongst people that think you are a bad person because you are friendly and nice to everyone; it’s so hard. And I definitely never knew that by giving people/friends hugs, I was giving myself a bad name. I’m a hugger. I’ve always been a hugger; I’m affectionate and loving, it’s who I am…I just never imagined that any of those personality traits would get me into trouble. I didn’t realize how misinterpreted and misunderstood I could be. I can appreciate cultural differences, but being judged negatively for the aforementioned reasons is just something I cannot comprehend. And having people pretend to be your friend who really do not like you...this also makes no sense to me. Then just don't be my friend!!! Why waste either of our time and energy pretending?

And for those reasons, the way some of the people in the village here enjoy tearing you down and making you feel so awful, the way they make you feel like you must be a bad person if people are willing to treat you this way…it’s a hard reality to understand. To have someone laugh in your face when they see you cry because they are from a culture that just doesn't show emotions.  All of this just really messes with your head. So, it’s been quite the roller coaster ride, 2009. I have had many hard days, many bad thoughts, many tears, many considerations of leaving early. But every once and a while, I have one of those days that is just so nice in which I’m surrounded by people I do sincerely believe are my friends and I just enjoy the beauty of the river or the simplicity of life here. Every once and a while I have a day that reminds me why I love it here or why I decided to come back in the first place. And those days save my spirit.

You know how people always say, “everything happens for a reason,” and sometimes that just drives us insane, right? I mean, come on….sometimes the reason is SHITTY! But if we try to remove ourselves from the situation and sit back and allow ourselves to see things from the outside (sometimes this takes a while)…every so often a good reason can be found. And I realized this yesterday. I was sitting at the campsite thinking about the friendship that I lost on NYE and realized that in losing that friendship that clearly wasn’t as great as I saw it to be, I actually gained new friendships that are really wonderful that I may have missed out on otherwise. And I am so grateful for those people and our newfound friendships. In all of this craziness, I have become very skeptical and protective of myself...trying to pick and choose who I should allow into my world...and in doing so, I have found a great group of people to keep around.

And as I find my way out of the dark forest I was lost in for the first two weeks of the year, I am letting go of the negativity and sadness. I am leaving the two people I now know are not and will never be my friends (and anyone else who goes along with their charade)…I am leaving them in that forest. They seem to like it in there. They seem to thrive from sadness and negativity; they seem to enjoy bringing people down and watching them suffer. So they can stay there…but I know I don’t belong in there. I hate living life that way; I always have...and although I know I can be negative at times, I do try my best to be positive the majority of the time. I always try to see the good in life, in people. And I know that that gets me in trouble…and believe me, I am going to take this experience with me and learn from it. But I cannot lose myself and who I am because of it. I cannot let them take my happiness...especially because that is what they want. Instead, I smile proudly and remember in my heart that I am a good person and I only need to surround myself by positivity...all the rest is just a puddle I need to jump over in the path.

Reflections and hopes for a better 2009...

I’ve looked back at past blogs, from the spring and from this winter and am a bit disappointed. I apologize to those of you out there reading this and hoping to hear stories about the people I am meeting in the field and working with…about the work that I am doing. To be honest, things haven’t been as fantastic as I had hoped for; and they most certainly have not been as peaceful and relaxing and self reflective as they were in Lyantonde in the spring. The thing is…we make decisions in life and then, somehow, we have to make the most of the situations that arise. And right now, I am really trying my best to make things right…to make them better; to make them what I hoped they would be. I came back to Uganda because I found such happiness here in the work I was doing and the life I was leading gave me so much peace. But I came back to a different town and different work and different people and I just need a bit more time. As one of my closest friends once told me, sometimes we find ourselves completely lost in a deep, dark forest and the sooner we realize we are lost and find the strength to turn around and walk back…the easier it will be to get out and find the light again. I have found myself completely lost and am trying my best to find my way out of the forest...because although 2009 started off completely wrong, there is much time to change that. I still have many hopes that this can be a wonderful year full of exploration, love, adventure, friendship, hope, triumphs, surprises and much much more. "We are the music makers...we are the dreamers of dreams."

To all of you out there that donated money for me to put into the communities and organizations here, please do not doubt that your money is being put to good use. I did a few projects with Soft Power Education before the end of the year and my colleagues at RACOBAO continue to thank me for the funds we have raised. And I know that when I give them another big handful of money later this month, they will thank me again, especially because funds are always so limited for them at the beginning of the year. Your donations are going to help us to get into the field to meet with new families in need and find out how we can help them. They will provide uniforms to children so that they can attend school. They will buy a goat for a family to give them a source of sustainable income. They will be used to help sponsor a child to finish school. They will help a woman living with HIV/AIDS get the medicine she needs to live a healthier life. And so much more. Never doubt that your money is being put to good use, because even if I am still trying to find my way…your donations have never been lost! And again, I thank you all for your generosity.

Christmas and a road trip North

So, the holidays came and went and I kicked myself several times for not being at home with all the people I should’ve been with. I don’t know why I thought it would be okay to be away during this time of the year…I guess I just thought it would be nice to see how things were celebrated somewhere else. But the thing is, it’s hard to celebrate and be happy when you are so far from the people you love who you are used to being with on those occasions. We tried our best to make the most of it though…some of my other Western friends and I. We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day until after lunch with 30 street boys from town at the education center. We had a nice big dinner on Christmas Eve with lots of music (I represented the Varleys by trying to get people to dance and it worked after a while), some games, presents (blankets for the boys) and some movies (Elf was my favorite). I remember sitting there during dinner and looking at all the boys so happy to have such a good meal and at once I was sad to be so far from my family, but so happy because if I couldn’t be at home, there was nowhere else that I’d rather be in that moment. It was certainly both different and special. Then on Christmas morning we got up really early to cook them breakfast (on a wood burning fuel efficient stove) and I took 6 of the boys to church which ended up being 3 hours long but really beautiful and relaxing. The way the women sing here is just so raw and natural and peaceful…and there were some children doing some dances as the women sang. I also had the pleasure of having one of my favorite little village boys sit on my lap the whole time since it was so crowded. His name is Devon and he is deaf and mute and sooooo smiley and cute! Oh, and I was asked to read the Second Reading in English…so I got up there and did my best to make my mom proud. After church, we returned to the center to help finish lunch preparations and eat before the boys went back to town. We know it might have only been 20 hours of warmth, security, comfort and love…but we hope that those 20 hours will stay with them for longer and continue to keep them warm inside in some sense.

After eating that lunch, Mamma Joyce (my favorite village woman who cooks the most delicious food at her restaurant) found me and took me to her house so that I know where she lives. But of course, having a guest in your house means you must feed them and give them something to drink. I tried to explain that I was sooooo full from just eating a big lunch, but she insisted I eat something. I forced down a few pieces of delicious meat and some matooke and then she whisked me off for a soda with her brothers. It was so wonderful to sit with them and be a part of the beginning of their family gathering, but unfortunately I couldn’t stay very long because I was supposed to be back at the center helping to clean up from the festivities!

Jami, my roommate and best friend here, and I made our way to the campsite to have a holiday beer and ended up running into Kristen, a new American friend and the three of us spent the entire day together. It was far from what we all wished we could be doing (celebrating at home with family and friends), but it was the best option we had, so we made the most of it. We had a delicious dinner with some other western friends, played some drunken and silly charades and then went out dancing too. So, although it was not like Christmas at all…it turned out to be a pretty good day.

The following day I went on my 10th trip down the Nile with a few friends who came in for rafting. It was the first time my heart really wasn’t in the trip, but it ended up being a great day…of course! On the 27th, I left to meet Jami, Kristen, Alex and Ade up north for a road trip around the countryside. The land up there is very different; it’s so gorgeous and remote and in so many ways untouched because of the years of war. We were so close to the Congo that sometimes we thought we may even be in it…but we were also pretty sure the border would be guarded with heavy security (or even some rebels). All the same, it was an adventure and beautiful; and so wonderful to see a different part of Uganda and remember why we are all here…not for the drama of life in Jinja, but for the people living in rural villages that all of the organizations we work with are trying to help.

We passed several IDP camps that would just pop up in the middle of nowhere…just bunches of huts piled into a small area, people living on top of each other. People are still living there away from their homes, passing their days in normal Ugandan ways: gathering water and wood, cooking, playing, sitting together. And as we passed each camp, I wished we could stop and sit with some of the people; talk with them…but I knew many of them would not welcome us (even though Ugandans are, by nature, very welcoming people). You can just tell as you drive by in the faces of the people that some of them are so happy to see you, but some of them wish they hadn’t seen you at all. And understandably so. They see us driving our vehicle through their little village for just a few seconds and having a quick glance into their lives; lives that they live every minute of every day from which they have very few chances of driving away. They see us and the color of our skin and they assume that our lives must be better, that we are more privileged than they are, that our lives must be easier. And you know what…they are right. I was never forced to leave my home and live in such close quarters with strangers for so many years. I have never had my family members killed or taken away and made into child soldiers. I have never gone to sleep at night worried that tomorrow might never come. And as is typical in all parts of Uganda, not just the north, we drove by at least a hundred people during our 15 hour road trip walking (probably for miles) with wood or water on their heads for cooking, produce for selling or such long bundles of grass that you couldn’t even see the girl’s head. And I have never had to do any of that either. Being up north for those 3 days made us all remember what we are here for in the first place. And for the first time, I did feel lazy. Some Ugandans I see on a daily basis (men) try to tell me that white people are lazy because we don’t carry water or washing on our heads; because we don’t wash our clothes by hand or on the rocks as African women do; because we don’t have 10 babies and still do all of that too (all things that women do, they never mention anything about African men). And I always argue that we are just different. We may not do those things…but that doesn’t make us lazy. We just grew up in a different way. And there are things that we do that I don’t see Ugandans doing…I don’t see them working 10-12 hour days multi tasking in front of a computer, answering the phone, writing contracts, meeting clients, etc. We are just different. But for those few days, I looked at the people (mostly the women) and I did feel lazy.