journal excerpts

2009-11-01T00:46:00.000-07:00

Regarding Kapchorwa:

October 3, 2009

"I am already surging with emotion for this place. From the quaint mountain town, off the beaten path to this rugged village land, I am thrilled at what my eyes at what my eyes have shown me! From the rush of the waterfalls to the bleating of goats, my ears are delighted with the sounds. From the heat of the valley to the brisk winds atop the mountain, my skin tingles with these feelings of contrast! My senses are enlivened by the raw beauty and culture of this place. As I stood upon our hill today, I looked out upon the magnificence of a towering waterfall, cascading from the rocky cliffs that shoot up from the lush, green vegetation below. Dark clouds rolled overhead, and the winds that blew stretched the corners of my mouth into its widest smile. Hail pounded from the sky together with rain, thunder, and lighting, calling my heart to its fierce rhythm. My emotions followed, and I was filed with joyous and awestruck laughter. After quite a display, the thick curtain of clouds was drawn aside to reveal the dazzling sun as it made its final bow eastward. And to think, this is my Father’s world! I want to be like Him in every art!"

"The tip of my nose and toes are the first to feel the cold of the night. I feel refreshed by the brisk air, relaxed in my newly made bed beneath the cool sheets and thick blanket (that traveled with us), and at home here in this recent space of mine. The African fabrics draping the window panels with bursts of color, the books lining our tea table fixed with soda bottle book ends, cam boots lining the wall revealing much about the nature of this place, jewelry and Hanselman Landscape note cards hanging from the patterned window bars, a Bible, assortment of Rwandan note cars, National Geographic, and my journal beneath the light of a hanging flashlight (interrupted by the flitting of a moth) provide me with a sense of belonging. I am in my element; this is my side of Africa!"

"How can I explain these feelings?! I am so liberated; my emotions run so free! Yet I am bound by what my words alone can tell! So with that, I bid farewell to my first day, and welcome my first night! I may wake to the chill of the night, the talk of a donkey, the crow of a rooster, the ring of my alarm, or the loud tribal conversation between our night guard and tea girl as they greet each other and the day. Following such will come a breakfast of chapatti, adding variety to a menu we were earlier to believe consisted solely of posho and matoke (bland local favorites). We learned much on our matatu ride of six hours. Bye and bye."

October 4, 2009

"Last night I woke to the cool air seeping through the window adjacent to my bed, which revealed a full moon among the dark night sky. As the sun rose this morning, it exposed a new sky of bright blue, and the beauty of the earth below. My sleep was light due to the excitement of my new home; I heard the donkeys’ when they woke, too, though I could not join in their complaints. I was glad to be awake, and revive my joy for this place, tucked warm in my blankets, surrounded by quaint décor and further, green hills, mountain cliffs, and flowing streams."

"Church: Thunder rolled over the hills as we sat towards the front of the church building, constructed of forest and red, pressed mud. Perpendicular to the pews, which held the colors of African fabrics and faces, a row of chairs held us and the male elders of the church. Within the building, which varied in lighting due to the beam of the sun and the storm clouds that covered it, testimonies and ‘numbers’ were shared from the front platform built up of concrete."

"Juliet had a tray stacked of hot foods in metal containers, silverware, and tea mugs soon brought into our room for a lunch of rice and beans. From beneath her evergreen, knitted Arsenal beanie, her face radiated joy through beaming smiles, laughter, and kind words understood in both her broken English and native tongue. She greets us at every passing, and loves so well..."

"Ahh…the feelings of fall are instilled as I experience the cool of Piswa, along with the crisp winds, glimpses of red on the tips of the leaves, and the clear night skies..."

October 5, 2009

"This place awakens my deepest creativity; writing has become a joy! My thoughts flow with the rush of the mountain streams, and the beauty and feelings around me call my heart to open and pour itself onto the pages of my handmade journal; if only my heart spoke in words!"

"Juliet’s laughter tells me of such a joy in simple things; it expects nothing more than what a day can bring, and what it is in the habit of providing."

"There is so much emotion here; the stillness of the morning sets the canvas upon which the cries and the coos of the neighbor children can be heard, the rooster’s crow, the birds converse, and the muffled radio fights the static to produce sounds of the latest Chris Brown debut."

"Atop the hill, my heart soared, rising above all that was around; the wind blew the grassy fields and red-tipped leaves as skirted women danced upon the football field. I felt at home, and certainly at peace, finding the community of this game to run so strong, independent of blood or race. These people became mine, and for the hours to come, my wandering heart stilled; it was where it belonged. The winds and the air grew brisk, as I huddled together with those around me, brown-eyed children full of wonder and childlike awe, as I, the target of such attention, relished in their presence: the warmth of the little girl cuddled in my lap, the cold fingertips running along my white skin and through my long braided hair, the shy giggles of a young boy as I share with him my smile or wiggle my fingers in his direction, and the boys wrestling in the grass as their shirts wave, tumbling into a cam-booted tangle of legs."

"The slow and peaceful pace of life and its activities here demands my attention, bringing me to stand in awe of the simplicity. Any discovery or new observation unleashes such joy in a place like this; whether the climb to a new summit that reveals another height and perspective of beauty, the delightful combination of NIDO and sugar, or the subtle change on one’s palate due to the substitution of Irish potatoes with imported sweet potatoes."

"Dominic: There is nothing I have found to equal the feeling such as this: traveling to this distant place, among a land, a people, and a language that are not my own…to sit upon a rocky outcropping amidst the grassy hillside, conversing and laughing with a local in a way that we can both understand."

"I set off in the cool of the morning and ducked my head as I stepped out through the door frame along our compounds border. It holds a small door built from a single rippled iron sheet nailed to a wooden structure. Dominic, my 26-year-old friend from the Sabiny people, leads the way. I follow the impressions in the red dirt road from the sole of his rubber cam boots as I carefully watch my step along this rutted road. I join his side as we continue our introductions from the morning’s devotions and tea, only to again slide behind his lead when the flooded road limits the path to a narrow ridge of packed dirt on which to walk. These also happen to be the most likely meeting places for oncoming boda-bodas, for which we must dodge out of the way. As we travel, I come to know of Dominic’s first-born baby daughter, Rose, his upcoming birthday, and his personal views on premarital sex and female genital mutilation. My comfort in conversation has quickly matured in the past few days! His love for children became evident as little ones gathered around and joined us on our ascent. I slowed as several children shared my hands, each gripping a finger or two, while shuffling to prevent their little legs from intertwining. As we reached the top of our climb, fond memories of yesterday’s competition arose as I looked upon the football field, which boasted wooden goalposts at each end. The same wind blew over my skin and through the cut grass, as we neared Mengya Primary School. I was faced with more brown-eyed gazes of school children until directed into the shelter of the headmaster’s office. Dominic left me here to search for unoccupied professors, while I sat alone, browsing attendance records and teacher summaries that lined the mud pressed walls. A lone Frisbee sat upturned on the desk in front of me, beside an empty chalk box and hand bell. In moments, after I had taken photos to document such things, Dominic reappeared to continue conversation and wait for the arrival of Jesper, one of Mengya’s twelve hired teachers. Short, square-headed, and with a large gap between one front tooth and the other, Jesper entered joyously, ready to greet me by holding out his right hand, a long stick in the other. His form of welcome and discipline were both evident in his dark, rough hands. We spoke of our intentions and questions, while his interests remained in the location and condition of my home, the number of states in America, and the odd pronunciation of mine. I introduced myself a second time to the headmaster, before doing so again at 10:30, the children’s break time. Gathered around a wooden flagpole, which held Uganda’s national colors, hundred’s of children huddled on the ground, exceeding the circle of space provided by stacked rocks. I told my story, pausing as the end of each phrase for the Dominic’s translations, and listened to questions regarding the presence of donkeys, rice, and overgrazing in my country. "

"I form a quick bond with those who help me to understand my surroundings, and also provide the grounds for my words to be understood and bear meaning; Dominic has become quite a good friend today."

"I walked through the grass aisle provided by the children as they shuffled aside to watch me pass before spending their break time for games, giggles, and the exploration of mzungu behavior. Often, the latter two came together. Along with Jesper, and his colleague, Moses, Dominic and I walked the length of the school-feeding garden, inter-cropped with maize and beans, beside fields of Irish potatoes. The men were proud of their land, friendly cows, and white-skinned visitor. I thanked them fully for the tour and welcome as I followed Dominic further up the hill. He led me to the greatest height I had yet reached in all of Uganda. Amidst the grassy hill, we stopped upon a platform of textured rock where we shared in conversation, laughter and lessons; Dominic’s in camera skills, and mine in Kupsabiny. What a glorious way to finish the morning! Sitting upon a single rock with cliffs behind our backs and a magnificent valley in our gaze, we planned of adventures to come, practiced our lessons, and wondered at cultural differences. Upon our descent, we paused at the head master’s office where we were delivered freshly roasted maize…what a treat! The tough kernels each held the taste of fire, and the sweetness of the vegetable’s natural sugars! After using my drinking water to wash my hands we headed to the office, my home. Along our way, we diverted from the path of the road into a neighboring field to see a hyena that was killed in the night before its legs were cut off. After making my way back to the road and through the chatter of gathered locals, Dominic explained to me the danger in a hyena’s acidity: commonly used as poison. The chatter I heard was in discussion of such dangers, fearing that the possessor of the missing legs could arm a weapon against his enemies."

"Mallory and I walked outside beneath the light of the full moon above. As I opened the door, the brisk air enveloped me, bringing with it the scent of burning firewood..."

"The laughter of children rolls over the hills and through my open windows to where I sit on my bed and browse the photos that I have taken from the day; my first visit to Piswa Primary School revealed many new faces and vistas of the waterfall, carving its way through the junction of steep hills. I wave past the metal bars in the window frame to Alex as he departs for lunch, and Mallory as she uses the water bottle in her hand to push open our metal door (which is coated in forest green paint to match the indoor shutters) and enters our room. I remain distracted from my photos as she adds to my memories with the events of her day, full of trekking the hills alongside Alex and interviewing thrilled hosts. “I was just trying to explain MacDonald’s to Alex; He has never heard of a hamburger!” Her words, filled with intrigue, document a deepening friendship with Alex (a short, dark man of 27 with a thin nose, ever-present smile, and fine features that give him the appearance of a cheerful child). The humor in their conversations and interactions overflowed through her story telling; I was soon laughing at her descriptions.

"Heavy rains lent to late office hours, muted cell phone rings, and a postponed football match."

"Helping three small children cut grass with a hand cutter, and gathering it into a potato sack…bringing them orange biscuits and packing extras into their coat pockets, breathing warm air onto their frigid hands, and creatively fastening a zipper-less jacket on the frame of a toddler..."

"As we finished, giggling girls beckoned us over to the fence, where they each shook our hands multiple times through the spaces between barbed wire before reciting their names; this alone provided enough entertainment for the entirety of or time spent together: Rhoda, Rayama, Ruth, Roberca, Babra, Mary, Sharon, and Rachel. They easily caught on to Mallory’s pseudonym, Mary, and had the tendency to repeat my name as 'Goldwing.'"

"...carrying the flashlight for Juliet as she prepared dinner…using cardboard as potholders as she pours the boiling water directly from over the fire."

"The cold wind surrounds my boots and enters the bottom of my skirt, causing it to wave, as I the neglected hairs on my leg stand on end at the chill. From the tips of my fingers, the cold creeps along my skin. Around me I heard the sniffles of children, accompanied by their chest-driven coughs. The bleat of a wandering goat joins in the sounds of the cool evening, together with the on looking donkey."

"The thrill of multimedia for the staff; Juliet’s brilliant laughter at the animations of Ice Age, and the wonder of the squirrel… 'Do they eat people?'"

"The smell of kerosene as Juliet lights the lantern during our second evening of no power; I am reminded of late night walks through the wood as a camper, or the responsibilities of a counselor."

"Standing at the edge of a hill, with seven grades of primary school children huddled in front of me, I spoke of Jesus, as I was simply asked to do moments before. The color of my skin yields great wisdom, some believe. I, however, felt like a babbling fool as I rehearsed the Christmas story, and told of our American traditions around the holiday it has become, while wondering if they even understood the English, which I attempted to simplify. The clouds above, which ran dark and fast, brought a bitter wind that caused my body to shake; lest I say nervousness be the cause."

"No more light (lantern included; our room just filled of the thick scent of kerosene as the flame diffused); No more sugar; No more battery power on our computers; No more life in the dark of this Kapchorwa district: This is a night where girls put to use all of their childhood memories from countless sleepovers, and come forth with ideas of truth-or-dare, heart-to-heart’s, and 'fun games.'"

"An hour past dark, nearing nine, I hear the faint sounds of children laughing over Mallory’s deep, rhythmic breathes. Asleep, she assumed she was joining the rest of this district. I now discover the laughter that reveals the only nightlife of which I am aware."

October 8, 2009

"I climbed out of bed after denying the need to wake this morning. My descent was gradual, as I first pulled the weight of each heavy, warm blanket that added to the night’s comfort from my body. I shuffled across the cold floor to dress from my limited selection of clothing, which, in fact, exceeds the wardrobe of most large Sabiny families. After purchasing phone minutes, and being successful in properly revealing only one of the three verification codes, I ran my phone into the office for the chance of reception. Upon receiving one bar, and the adjoining excitement, my phone received 1,160 Ugandan Shillings for use; enough to cover 4 messages home at 220 shillings each. Before that, I hurried to the smoke-filled kitchen where Juliet ran to meet me, a bag of flour in hand, and anxiety across her face. With no key to the food storage room (due to later explanation), her ingredients for the morning meal came at a further distance, which she hurried to cover. As the stove fire burned hot and blue, Juliet mixed flour together with water, the first of the chapatti preparations, within a versatile blue basin. These have many-a-purpose: serving to hold water for the washing of hands, hair (real or fake, I must add), dishes, and clothes, or exist as a mini-Jacuzzi for our cold, white feet on a rainy afternoon. More are yet to be found, I am sure! Gathering around, Mallory and I intently discovered the process of making chapatti, noticing the incremental additions of flour and oil, and the flattening and frying of the fist-sized dough balls. Our attention fixed, Titus stood behind, making attempts at light conversation. As the morning progressed, so did the excitement for this last day of work before the public holiday.

"The anticipation of Dominic and Alex's arrival welled up in me as I approached the day. They soon appeared at the office, though much too late for office devotions. We were then told of Moses Cherop (who held the keys to the office and food-store room) and Betty’s delay in Kapchorwa town due to rain, and Emily’s early departure home for the weekend. My plans to work with Betty visiting homes and capturing CAPR photos were then put aside to conform to Dominic’s schedule. He and I went to work discussing day’s events, though not before I wished him a happy 27th birthday! Likil Primary School was the first visit on our list; we planned an hour stay, after which Dominic hoped to show me the waterfall I openly admired. Heading out on the main road, after collecting my camera bag and rain coat, which I strapped underneath my camouflage backpack, my interest in this new school grew. Diverting onto a small path, only recognizable by the mud tracks upon the flattened grass, we wove our way down, up, and around the hills, over streams via precarious log bridges, and hurriedly away from the following sheets of rain, to Likil Primary School. The two buildings that first approached were newly constructed, concrete walls and iron-sheet roves boasted the help of FHI. As we neared the office, the open classroom windows served as an optimal view for students to watch this mzungu pass. The rain on my face deceived me as sweat, and I quickly removed my jacket for the comfort of the cool stormy breeze, which signaled the beginning of morning rains. I was well-introduced to those in the office, including teachers and a headmaster whose interest in America ran strong, by the time the rains fell and slowed. At this pause, the school children were called outside, where I introduced myself, before answering questions on crops, seasons, and circumcision in my home. After a few photos of the smiles that surrounded me, Dominic protected my camera from the increasing rains, and we parted the crowd on our way back to the office. Again, we were warmly welcomed, this time with roasted maize, one of my new Kapchorwan favorites. Over this treat, conversation was interrupted by the intermittent surges of rain upon the metal roof overhead, or the curious laughter at the cultural differences we discovered. Over maps of our world in the paperback Ugandan atlas, the passion for travel grew strong in that small office as I pointed to places where I have journeyed and explained the thrills of air travel."

"Teaching English…so much fun: The spur of the event added to its excitement, along with the laughter of children, and their wonder of new things."

"As I let down my hair, the fingers of young children styling the longest hair they had seen reminded me of my mother; as I closed my eyes, their hands through my hair became hers, and their wonder, her love and comfort."

October 10, 2009

"Exploration: up to the rocks with Mallory; as we followed a thin trail into the forest…dark clouds provided a mysterious trek through the woods and up along the hills; winds blew heavy, wet, and cold. Misty hills, and rocky outcroppings framed beautiful scenes. Each new step revealed a new wildflower, grazing animal, or perspective on the distant plains and mountains betwen times of fixing our eyes close ahead of us to monitor the precarious pathway. Along our way, children shied away from the lone mzungus, calling out accented greetings in English before ducking their heads out of sight. Searching for paths darting through fields of maize and uncertainly uphill, we attempted to make our pauses short, in order to prevent from being stopped from continuing our journey by a curious local, or feelings of doubt. Pursuing our recent-made destination of the upper waterfalls, we slid and climbed until our view became clear of the cascading falls ahead. Pausing in wonder, our silent enthusiasm was transparent. Soon thereafter, the sounds of the waterfalls in the valley below joined with the laughter of children. On a pathway that branched from where we stood, their bodies were hidden by the height of maize between us. We waited until one by one, they appeared from round the field. Both in view of the sights we had ventured to see, we stood still. After beckoning them to come near with the cupping of my hand, several steps forward, halts, then the nudging of the little ones following, the first young girl shook my hand with a respectful bow. Clothed in a purple school uniform and orange waist-belt, she hid her shy eyes with the purple shawl that loosely hung on her neck. As the line of introductions continued, smiles and laughter increased. Three girls went ahead, leading the way to a better view of the waterfalls, which we had pointed to, while several followed behind."

October 11, 2009

"The foggy night hides the dramatic scenery, and draws my attention to the colors flapping on the clothesline of barbed wire. The rains in the afternoon prevented our journey which we had planned the day before, together with Mallory’s aching body and our mutual feelings of comfort in our beds. I attended the morning church service alone, and following the exhaustion had been more than willing to stay home."

October 12, 2009

"Nas, Lona, Carine: (talking through the barbed wire fence, bringing them a powder-mixed drink they called soda, teaching them to make a grass whistle; they passed Godwin over the fence for me to hold, while they crawled under the fence). We spent the next hours discovering each other, huddling together under a blanket, as I cuddled Godwin to sleep, and comforted his coop and feverish body. The girls then followed me into my room as they returned the blanket. The three lined up along the edge of Mallory’s bed as I sewed the large holes in Lona’s skirt. They then returned Godwin to his mother, and headed for home. "

October 21, 2009

"Jeans; torch and first aid kit in my hands; hot pink jacket to match. In the back room of the 'clinic,' surrounded by mud walls, night stars and the moonlight, a kerosene lantern shone upon the brave 12-year-old boy who sat before me on a handmade wooden bench... This has made me aware: I feel as though I could do this forever. I want to stay. I want to come back. I want to live this much. Always. I want to feel this alive. "

oh, to be in africa!!

2009-08-28T13:37:00.000-07:00

i am sending this off from Rwanda, the breathtaking "land of a thousand hills."

the photos that i have thumbed through over the years are finally coming to life :: the children jumping up and down in excitement as they wave to us enthused "muzungus," the smells of tea leaves and mountain trees, and the feel of the sun (though i'm pretty upset that half of my face and my left arm were sunburned from leaning out of the bus for 9 hours in awe of this place and its people). ahh...this is a dream come true!!

i adore the radiant African smiles...they could be seen (and felt) from miles away!

we arrived here tonight from 'simba camp,' after spending a few days on safari in Uganda! how surreal...

...and this is why i can't stop staring out my window:

...oh, and here is just one more reason why i love it here...

...goodnight!

aspenglow: the glow on mountaintops at dawn & dusk.

journal excerpts

oh, to be in africa!!