KATIE'S JOURNAL

April 29, 2010

Hello All!

Just a ditty of a message to let you know I'm safe and sound.
Arrived in Uganda with no hassle (actually, in Minneapolis, they had no indication of me being on the flight but I was able to use my diplomatic [bossy] skills to keep them searching and it ended up being fine as pie, and everyone pleased as punch)

So, I slept lots on the plane ride from Amsterdam to Entebbe, Uganda and arrived on time and with my luggage. A quick taxi ride into Kampala and we found the hotel. The hotel was, to be honest, pretty awful. It was located in a slum (which is nothing new for me) but it was loud and echoey with ants and non-running water. At least there was digital satellite TV! (kidding...there actually was, but it didn't mean much to me).

After accommodating about 57 of my favourite mosquitoes, we all settled down for a sleep. 5 hours later I was wide awake, and I tried to embrace it. Nothing like watching the sunrise over a Ugandan slum; everything is still misty and you truly get the sense that each day counts.

Went downstairs for some breakfast (instant coffee, oil+egg) and after much anticipation, finally saw my godson and god daughter approach on a motorcycle. They are 1 and 4 respectively and are hands down the absolute cutest creatures in the whole of this wide world. We exchanged kisses and hugs and giggles, and then I went touring around the slum, where one of Kwagala's Ugandan corresponders, Teddy, lives. Locals started calling me Angelina....hmmmm.....potential?

Anyway, had a lovely (?) tour of the slum and saw Teddy's new home. After a wretched hotel experience, decided to move to a nice hotel for just one night. Headed to the Shangri-La and fell asleep at 4:30 in the afternoon. Woke up at 3 this morning, spent two horus justifying to myself all the reasons why one's day could begin at 3 in the morning and still feel normal (it didn't work. it's 9:12 in the morning right now and I'm almost ready for bed again. Go figure.)

Anyway, discussed Kwagala Foundation potential over breakfast (a Kwagala-run school, a men's equality group, alcoholic-counselling group etc. No over-achievers here!)

Today will bring mostly organization and laundry. It is rainy and humid and the mosquitos will be having a free for all, no doubt. Tomorrow we'll likely be off to Kyababeezi to gain preliminary ideas of how best to utilize the 6 weeks we are here. All in all, a wonderful start to the trip. We're happy and healthy and are eating and sleeping (sort of).

Much love,

Katie

May 2, 2010

The times my mother has been to Uganda she has commented on "The Road to Kassanda" - a bumpy, dusty road that twists and turns and eventually leads to Kassanda, the town right before Kwagala's working village, Kyababeezi. The transition from the beginning of this road to the point where we turn off is...linguistically indescribable. Let me attempt.

I'm staying in Mityana - a town 80 kms West of Kampala, that is a microcosm of Kampala, and mostly populated by lower-middle class Africans and run by upper-middle class East Indians. The shops and pharmacies and clinics are all owned by East Indians while the workers are made up of Africans. The whole town is probably made up of 50 000 people and has enough modern amenities to make the weary traveller comfortable.

14 kms from Mityana is a turn off from the paved highway to the dirt-laden strip that is the Road to Kassanda.  From the first series of shops, where men attack vehicles with precarious "meat on a stick" to the large expanse of lush green - hills of lime and forest meeting the horizon, interrupted only by taller trees and high-resting houses. It is immiedately and starkly evident that one has arrived in rural Uganda. The electric poles and satellite dishes disappear, replaced by a hum of traditional living and generators.

At Kassanda one arrives at a round-about and sees a town bustling with activity. The trading centre of the sub-county.

10 kms further, one finally reaches Kyababeezi, where houses are situated many metres from one another, and surrounded by over-tilled dirt and tall stalks of maize.

Yesterday I came to Kyababeezi for the first time since 2009 and was once again filled with a sense of homecoming.

The house that Kwagala Foundation funded the construction of last year was completely finished and well-maintained; the family occupying it healthy and happy.

While waiting for the community to gather, we went and sat with soem children who were peeling beans. We asked if we could join in with them and we all peeled beans. We found ourselves humming Waving Flag by K'Nann - the official World Cup song and pretty soon all the children were humming along, with one even attempting the lyrics. It was a beautiful sight and we began to encourage more children to join. (Kyababeezi choir anyone?)

We captured on film pivotal moments of the day, including having the chance to tell a mother of three who is far-along in her AIDS diagnosis that all of her children had been sponsored at once and that she no longer had to be concerned about their well-being after she has left this world. I still get chills remembering her smile at the exact moment, and I am so pleased we have it on film.

In time (African time...slow time...) several families had gathered and we began discussing this year's agenda which will include:

We were excited yesterday as we arrived in Kyababeezi because the LC1 (the highest-ranking official at the village level, who even has the power to veto the President of Uganda's choices of waht happens in the village) was waiting for us along with the village-level Secretary of Defense. They both were so supportive of Kwagala Foundation, and had nothing but kind words for us. They also encouraged the community to not take for granted the opportunity they'd been given by having us there. What an honour!

The day closed with some women cooking us a delicious meal and the Kwagala team discussing our agenda.

Today an engineer is in Kyababeezi evaluating the well's construction progress. Being Sunday we've decided to have a relaxed day and tomorrow we begin an intense week of the aforementioned programs.

Things are great all around. Unfortunately, my bank card is no longer accepted at banks in Uganda due to the new chip being put in, and so Independent Team Kwagala has had to call home for a money wiring. Thank goodness for Mums! My mum (who seems to be the star of this update), Jan, has come to the rescue and will be wiring the money to us weekly in increments. This will prevent two things

  1. over-spending and
  2. begging on the streets of Mityana.

Well crew, we'll be here all week. Please feel free to call (we're 8 hours ahead), text message (this offer is valid only to those who already have the phone number for Moses here in Uganda) or email.

The internet isn't as dodgy as it used to be and I'll be checking in bi-daily. (not twice per day but every two days).

Thanks for the love and support and the emails and phone calls thus far.

Katie.

May 13, 2010

Hello to all!
 
I'm sorry to have taken some time without writing about the latest 411 on Uganda. It's not from a lack of things happening here on the home front, but rather a lack of ability to get to a computer, among other obstacles.
 
The last time I felt compelled to write I was driving down the (now notorious) Road to Kassanda, thinking about all the things on the road that brought about feelings of welcoming;
little palpitations of civilization strewn about the proverbial heart of Africa. Whether it is someone taking the extra time to not only live among shrubs, but to groom them into aesthetic shapes. Or the houses that are not sun-baked brick-red, but where people have taken the time to in-lay stones and offset it with colourful painted contrasts of yellows, blues and greens. For some reason, these little efforts bring about a feeling of calm in me; that people aren't simply surviving, but are taking the time to enjoy life - even if it is through something as small as installing glass windows instead of the otherwise gloomy paned hole-in-the-wall.
 
And so we continue.
 
After a three-day hiatus (taking the rainy weekend off to lounge around and drink over-priced wine, which, in hindsight, may well have been altar wine that is grossly oversold in small east-Indian-run supermarkets), we headed to Kyababeezi on Tuesday. The schedule for the day was grim: having to speak sternly to sponsored children who are having recurring low grades, and discussing what it means to be sponsored, highlighting how lucky they are, and wondering why they are not honouring their sponsors with better grades. (As someone who barely squeezed through high school with 50s and 60s, I felt perhaps more qualified than usual to be having these discussions with the children). We reminded them that Kwagala Foundation had a zero-tolerance policy on the children skipping classes. Anyway, what resulted was three of our sponsored children vowing with all they have to improve their grades, attend classes etc. If this sounds callous, it isn't meant to. We gave both the guardians and the children a chance to tell us if anything was happening at home, if they had been sick or to see if there was any external factor affecting their attendance. When it was clear that the children were all healthy and well, we had to....bring down the gammet? Me and my legal colloquialisms...
Nevertheless, the talks seemed to go successfully and we will review the sponsored childrens' marks again in August.
Godfrey. Godfrey, Godfrey, Godfrey. The little baby that couldn't, but then did. He was the "starving child" mentioned in my previous email. (To my dear Brother and Mother, Godfrey is our little Yogurt, a reference that will likely bypass most other readers).
Anyway, it escapes me whether I mentioned the specifics of Godfrery, but at 3.5kilos and 18 months old, it was time for a full-scale intervention. Over the course of our three-day hiatus, Godfrey received home-made oral rehydration solution, tonic vitamins (A, Bx3, D and Iron; unfortunately no Vitamin C which I didn't realize until after the fact) and a bland but energy-packed diet of beans and matooke (boiled and mashed plantain). The change was perhaps not instantaneous, but by the time we came back on Tuesday morning, he was remarkably better. He was able to hold his own head up, his stream (and it was) of vomiting and defacating had ceased, he was smiling...perhaps the most gripping (no pun intended) part of watching Godfrey was the way he would reach a hand out and grasp the air, as if he were a swimmer unable to reach the surface, or perhaps so malnourished that he was delusionally believing he was grasping for his mother's breast or any other source of nutrition. This had stopped by Tuesday. The grasping for nothingness became grasping for somethingness, and while he cried every time we tried to feed him with a spoon, as soon as it was in his mouth he gobbled it up.
Perhaps this story seems familiar to those who know of Alice, the same case of Godfrey's that happened this time last year. You will be disappointed, or maybe relieved, to know that Godfrey is of course, Alice's youngest brother. And further to the heartbreak, Godfrey is not the last child who will be gasping - the mother is pregnant again.
Yet, we have successfully put this family on the radar, and I am always wet in the eyes to see the community fighting for the rights of these children, going out of their way to make sure they have their basic needs met. After all, what is a community worth fighting for, worth supporting, if its own people don't recognize the importance of social justice, community support and basic rights?
I am so proud of this community.
 
Skipping one-and-one-quarter-mile, we move to the well, which is WELL underway (pun intended. you caught me on a good morning!). The path to the well has been laid down with stones to make the trips much easier when gathering water, and now the engineering aspect is coming into play with large pipes being installed and fresh water being found. By June 3 the whole project will be completed.
 
The sewing machines have still been put on hold for awhile, as there seems to be much more immediate urgency to so many things. We have registered more families, done more HIV testing and counselling, more family planning... everything is happening and I get, for the first time since Kwagala Foundation's humble start that we are doing something more than right. I feel like we have found a rhythm; that we have keyed into the heartbeat of this area and we are working in tandum with each other, striving to get these swimmers to the surface, these fighters to peace, and above all, watching a community fall in love with itself again and again and again.

I would have more to report from Kyababeezi, but Tuesday ended abruptly with my having to address my own medical issues and having to come all the way back to Kampala. I went to the ultra-pricey private hospital (public healthcare all the way) and had some much-needed blood work done. My malaria has gone away, and I, after being checked a couple of times, have been given a clean bill of health for now. There is still the off-chance that some complications could arise and at this point we are taking it one day at a time. This all sounds very cryptic, but the important thing to take from it is that I feel fine, and it is a pre-existing condition wanting to rear its ugly head and I have, in true Katie fashion, simply told it "no."
However, faithful readers, the immediate danger has passed and I will be taking it easy for the next little bit, or at least trying to. That is another natural beauty of this community: seeing that they are now self-sufficient; they have seen their own potential and don't need me here to accomplish that which they want.
And so, assuming I keep healthy, I should be able to carry out my entire trip. I have all the right contacts to ensure that if something more comes up, I can be home within 22 hours, though I highly doubt this will be a luxury I utilize.
 
Another tangent completed, this time rant-free. Thank you ever so much for all the love and support I have received. I will be in touch in time, with more reports from the beating heart of Africa: Uganda.
 
All my love,
Katie.

May 16, 2010

I have always been a blind believer in democracy: the right to personal freedoms has always seemed to trump everything, so long as one's actions did not impose on another's rights and freedoms.
However, I came up against one of the greatest challenges this past week in both my personal and Kwagala Foundation's history.
The mood has been heated yet sombre in Kyababeezi lately. Emotions are running high over the whole Godrey gaffe. I'm spiralling in my mind where the starting point would be...All I can come up with are numbers. Numbers like: Godfrey is not 18 months old, but rather ONE YEAR AND 18 months old. 2.5 years. 6 months away from being 3. Born in early 2008, not 2009.
3.5 kgs is another number I come up with. 7 pounds. The average size of a newborn baby.
Another number: 3-5. That's the smallest size of diapers sold, meant for newborns. They nearly slip off of him.
Another number: 10. The number of times he throws up a day as his stomach expands like a wet sponge, and his fragile system is overcome with nourishment. 
2: The number of nights we have had Godfrey at our place.
2: The number of IV bags the local doctor said he needed immediately.
30 000: The amount of shillings spent on giving Godfrey his dignity in the form of clothing and food.
46: The number of hours spent watching him trying to sit up on his own, staring at his legs which have been so underused that they no longer work, spent bathing him, changing him, wiping up his spit-up, vomit and excrement...
And finally....
3: The number of hours spent trying to convince his parents to change, give up control, the number of hours spent talking to the villagers about the importance of helping the child.
It was in vain. Everyone in the village believed the father and mother had a lesson to learn and should have to "bear the burden" of having to watch their child starve to death.
Is this democracy? A majority of villagers, with whom I work seemingly in tandem, all believing that this was a hands-off situation.
I tried to reason that we can not take our opinions of their parenting into consideration, but must only look at the root need, the very thing that brought up tempers and contempt, betrayal and dismay: Godfrey.
And so I scooped him up, promising to bring him back to the village the next day.

...And when I did, the change was absolute. The parents were brought before the local police, where they still remain this morning. While the whole village fights for personal freedoms, I stand firm in my conviction to fight for and stand with personal rights. I feel as though I'm speaking for Godfrey, and only him, and I made sure the village knew this. And what is freedom without rights?
 
So we wait...
Do I think he will live? Today, yes. Tomorrow, yes. But he suffers from a disease that is not easy to cure. Godfrey is starving, it's true. And I thought it was education that would solve the problem. But seeing the smile creep across his cheeks whenever I cluck my tongue and touch his forehead, I know that Godfrey's real illness is neglect.
 
I believe that all the food in the world could not fill the emptiness of his soul.
 
On a lighter note: The well is coming along... I am about to put down the final payment, the villagers have laid down a stone path covered with brush to make the access easier, and our Engineer still wears his hard hat and is there everyday. We lucked out with such a hard-working crew.
 
The sewing machine project is finally being broached today, with the women who have sight issues being fitted for far-sighted glasses. Some complained that they wanted to be a part of the project, but couldn't see up close, so we will begin with the glasses. We are also talking to the person who will lead the project and then we will purchase the machines. From there, we will see where each woman excels (alterations, fitting, maintenance, sewing, etc.) and assign tasks to them. Since there is enough time before next school year begins, we anticipate that they will be making the school uniforms for the sponsored children. What a cool circle that would make!
 
Yesterday, we toured around the village, looking at different sponsored children's houses, and they varied considerably in resources and environment; though there was one constant. The sponsored child always had, by far, the nicest sleeping area. The nets were in good condition, the mattress secure, blankets and sheets were clean, boxes of soap available...it was nice to know that these children are sleeping so snuggly despite the poor environments. Some houses had chickens and pigs, some had no animals, some had vast fields of maize, coffee or banana trees... it really is just a microcosm of natural beauty.
 
We have shot lots of film and taken lots of photos, or at least been trying to, and hopefully we have caught the essence of our time here.

Our after-school program too will be discussed today. As well, the second distribution of piglets will finally take place today. We will be selecting and notifying families of who will be receiving the piglets, so that they may prepare their compounds with sties and secure food for their arrival. It is just another example of how the programs that Kwagala Foundation sets in are a practice in sustainability. It is nice, even for me, to see us following up on projects that began with simple ideas.
 
This week really has been an emotionally-charged one. Tuesday we will be taking a few days off to bask in tourist-charm in Western Uganda. In fact, we've already mentioned to hotels in the West that we are Kwagala Foundation, looking to start up volunteer trips in Uganda, and wanting to be able to offer our volunteers a fun safari trip. This is a bit of a stretch of the truth since we don't have the capacity yet to accept volunteers, and we certainly could not afford to take volunteers on safaris. However, the potential promise of more Mzungus (white visitors) to the National Park already has people abuzz: we've been offered personal car pick-up from a near-by city into the park, and a discount on hotel and park entrance fee.
Who knows...maybe we will add sustainable tourism into the eventual Kwagala volunteer package.
No one need worry that people are being shorted money however: we are still paying a considerable amount to the hotels (which are not owned by Africans anyway...) and we will of course tip our servers well as well as our safari guide.
Let me hope this doesn't sound disloyal...
 
So there we are...another update. Sleep eludes me in the early hours of the morning, and I spend that quiet time when the world is all but awake as the sun rises reflecting on how happy I am and all the ways that I can embrace and encourage change.
Ideas are always welcome. Think about your rights and freedoms, and bask in another person's presence. Acknowledging someone may be the gesture that fills THEIR soul.
 
Peace and love, 
Katie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
© 2009 Carpe Diem 88 Inc.