TIA

The phrase that I had intended to avoid using has become unavoidable. Before I arrived in Uganda, I had always resisted using this phrase, assuming it to be a bit condescending. After exactly a month of living here, I realize now that the phrase is often the only possible response to the constant inconstance that IS Africa: "T.I.A" ("This Is Africa") is the perfect phrase to humorously deal with the unusual situations I find myself in. So, with that in mind, I apologize for not updating for over two weeks. The inconsistent power, the slothlike internet, and the busy schedule I have been keeping have kept me from writing. This is just a simple example of the TIA disclaimer. While it can be completely frustrating to be halfway through an email when the whole town's power shuts off, (as it does nearly 4 times a week), it is a test of flexibility and patience. Shrugging it off with the TIA expression adds much needed lightness to these daily situations.

Anyhow, I am really adjusting to life in Uganda, especially in the last couple of weeks. A few recent events:

I joined the choir at Holy Rosary, a church in town. They now call it the "International Choir" on account of 43 Acholis and 1 Mazoongo (me). It is such an incredible choir, and to be accepted into it is incredible. The Churches here are like that of the Churches in the States in the 1950s. They are packed to the gills. If you are not there 10 minutes prior to mass, you will have to stand outside. They are very formal, except that the choir is massive and voices and drums resonate across the walls. The only difference is that the Acholi women are allowed to scream in high pitched voices during the songs, which adds drama to the mass.

They asked me to do the First reading at this mass. I was more than honored. So, on the morning of, I went a bit early, met with the Priest and pre-read the reading. I was also asked to read the Responsorial Hymns. At Mass, (which holds about 500 people, with a Priest and about 8 alterboys) I got up to do the reading, following the routine that I remembered doing as a kid. I got up to the pulpit, turned around to face the crowd and looked out over a sea of black faces. It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen something like this. And to read in front of this crowd was such an experience. I enunciated as best I could (it is very difficult for them to understand the fast-paced American dialect) and after both the Reading and the Hymn, I walked back down to my seat. On the way down, people started clapping throughout the Church. It was so nice. My friend David later told me that never in the 20 years that he had been going to mass had people clapped at the end of the reading for someone. He said that the congregation was accepting me into their community. It felt really great to get that kind of love from the people here.

Another funny antic- I was invited to share a Sunday dinner with this family. So, I brought over a little tea and a bag of sugar to the house, presented it to a grateful blind and lame grandmother, who was so happy and beautiful. They all made me feel so welcome. So, here I am sitting in this very traditionally Acholi setting- the women wash all of the men's hands before and after eating. They served Pocha (this kind of mash) with fresh chicken in broth, and fish. (This is considered a very special meal with meat- usually the majority of people save this for a special occasion). So I am eating (with my hands- thanks to "African Night" at the dinner table growing up, I was familiar of how to do this), sitting with this family, and all of a sudden, conversation turns to UC Santa Barbara. And the true coincidence that the Mother's daughters are GOING TO UCSB NEXT YEAR. I mean, here I am sitting with this traditional Acholi family, over chicken that had just been plucked and killed in their backyard, and I am giving tips on housing on DP Drive!? What??! It was such a surreal conversation, describing the late night burrito bar, Freebirds! Hilarious. Anyhow, her daughters got the chance to go on Exchange to UCSB next year.

Well, the power is about to go out. Till next time.

I will update this on the most consistent basis possible- just remember: TIA

Sir Samuel Baker Secondary School

Hey! So here just a few pictures so far. I have not really gone picture crazy yet, because the locals are so used to the Mazoongos taking photos of them and then leaving, that I want to first show my respect for a couple of months before I take some snaps. But rest assured, there are photo ops GALORE here. Every other minute that I look up from my bike, I see these amazing images- and it might even be better that I am not picture happy right now. Because it is so great to take that moment in, while it is live and right in front of me. My eyes are not adjusted yet to the culture. The daily events and environment is still foreign. This makes for very tiring days because of so much new information, sights, sounds, etc, but also totally thrilling. Goats and huge longhorn cows substitute for dogs here. They walk the streets like strays. The difference is, even the most intimaidating of bulls, with a 6 foot hornspan will move out of the way at the sound of a bike bell. Anyhow, I started my first week at work. It is great/frustrating adjusting not only to the culture in general, but in the office as well. More to come on that in a different email. Anyhow life is good here. I have made some Acholi (people from this region) friends- maybe a little too fast, as I will get announcements at home and at work that my "friend" has come to visit and is waiting out in front. Whoa! Anyways, the bike is still running well. I had a flat though, and got a patch put on- the price, including service was 50 cents. Which was half as expensive as my haircut....The pictures I have posted: A typical African sunset- the sky is our version of TV...A couple pictures of the school we were promoting on our Roadtrip- Sir Samuel Baker Secondary- making me even more motivated to continue raising funds for them- they are in dire need as is obvious by the wood occupied room, and the food that is served as the only meal for these kids twice a day (mind you they are living in a boarding school)....and finally a pic of some of the thousands of kids that love to run behind the Mazoongos, whether in car, by bike or on foot. Hilarious.

Weekend reflections

Last week was my birthday, and it only registered but yesterday that I am actually 25! Kinda crazy, but what better place to be experiencing a quarter century of living than in a place with so much life. Life, beautiful, joyous and devestatingly raw. It is a place that evokes tremendous joy and God-touched beauty, and frustrating sadness. The people are so well adapted to handling the pain, that as you walk along and ask people Itye ni ning? (How are you doing) they will respond with full heart, "I am well"... with the most infectious, and full smile.
The culture is interesting-a mix of British formality in its infrastructure, (due to it being controlled by the British in the past), with the laidback and blunt style only the Pearl of Africa (Uganda) can do. Yesterday, we went to an event honoring the students at Atanga Secondary School, where our Organization is working. The ceremony reflects this funny combination of Ugandan and British culture. The lack of regard for brevity or time, plus the structure of pomp and circumstance turned a seemingly short itinerary into a 4 hour ceremony.In example...

M.C.: "I would like to introduce the honorable governor of this region, Mr. Okot Samuel, who serves as the governor of this region in which Atanga Secondary School sits."

Governor: (speaks in Luo, the native language for about 1 minute...)

MC: "The honorable governor has just confirmed that he is indeed the governor of this region"...

The funniest part of the event occured afterwards. We were planning to travel back to Gulu (about an hour drive), but it began to thunder and lightning rain. We decided to wait for the intense rain to subside, so we all ran for cover under their tin roofed schoolroom. To kill time, Katie Bradel, (a girl that has worked for Invisible Children in Uganda for the last 2 years), and I made up a game of competition in which people would race to draw an assigned animal in under a minute on the blackboard. Then we would get the rest of the kids to vote for who's was the most recognizable. We played for about 15 minutes, and could only really engage a handful of students to participate. The rain continued to pour down, as their attention was diminshing, so we suggested to switch games to another cheesy American game. Then, one kid took initiative to start his own game, writing an algebra problem on the board. Within seconds, almost the entire room of students were throwing out answers to the problem, and scrambling to write more math problems in the little chalk they had. The entire room became full of life, as more and more kids ran up, writing over the animals to fill the board with equations. Katie and I slowly shuffled to the back of the room, laughing hysterically at our naiivity. It became incredibly apparent that these students are TOTALLY different from American students. They were eager to do math on a Saturday afternoon! The only person who might relate would be my younger brother Danny. But it was a great realization that I have a lot to learn and open up to here! Until next week...Sunday afternoon is beckoning me outside. The streets are alive with music and people shopping in market.