A pause in the whirlwind.

It’s amazing what four months can do.

One of many beautiful views of Kanungu

I was back in Kanungu for a few days as my school was on a week of holiday culminating the first term, and the village was quite the whirlwind of activity. New shops have been completed since I visited last (and the girl in me was so excited to explore them!) Really though, in terms of retail, my favorite part of Kanungu is the cobbler, who does the best shoe repair for a $1.25 that I have ever seen. My much-used Payless sandals were coming unglued from their soles, and he re-glued them and stitched all the way around the edges. The last time I had him repair sandals was before I left for the USA last year, and those leather flip flops lasted me a whole season of teaching middle school without his work coming undone. There are examples of amazing African craftsmanship all over the place; this one just happens to be my favorite.

As always, much time was spent in the village schools, and my beloved class from last year is preparing for their primary leaving exams. (Imagine a test around the end of eighth grade that tells you whether or not you can be accepted to high school.) The test is cumulative, and it doesn't seem easy for the level of education in the region. The test is a universal one for Uganda that comes straight from the capitol. I suppose it’s like an SAT for high school, but remember the literacy issues I've mentioned? It becomes more complicated than it sounds, and there is no such thing as special needs or adaptations. I’m praying for these kids, and especially my friend Wilson, who seems like a nephew to me. If he does well, I have to figure out the money to send him to secondary school. I was a little misinformed about the fees- but it still doesn't sound like it tops $200 per year. But secondary school here is six years long, so my life plan will include money and Africa for a while. Still, I think it’s the worthiest investment anyone could make. Not to be trite, but education is the future, and that’s true of every nation. And then I have six years to figure out how to get him to university in or out of this country (a project that I hope the Kanungu library will be able to take on for any village student someday!) Over Christmas I hope to talk to some stateside universities about their Third World scholarship options. There have to be some out there, right?

Muzungu hair never fails to amuse- and I love every second of it :)

Meanwhile, just before I left for Kanungu, my school here in Kampala had their high school retreat. We were at the beautiful Garuga Beach Resort in Entebbe.

Lake Victoria (unfortunately, not swimmer friendly, but there was a pool!)

Garuga Resort- our wonderful accomodations

Much fun was had, and I gave my first sermon! Ok, several of the best points were borrowed (with full credit given!) from the amazing team at Covenant Fellowship Church in Glenn Mills, Pennsylvania (www.covfel.org). What got me though was the conversation afterward- the boys and girls were divided by gender and age, and set with a teacher to discuss questions relating to the message. One of my questions for them was who do you talk to when you struggle? The girls, by a vast majority, were silent on this, and it caused me great pain. Where would I be without my close girlfriends from high school, to whom I could tell anything? They all discussed fear of being judged. Some admitted to confiding in their parents- once in awhile. So I’ve become determined to set up an older girls’ fellowship/community/friendship/chill group that can trust each other and truly talk. When the kids discuss God, they express annoyance that praying is not like Facebook or a text message; there is no instant reply. That, I think, is why we need the supplemental human sounding boards: people to listen, and help us see beyond the clouds of our own emotions when drama kicks its way into our lives.

 

Like my Seuss-y pep talk picture?

My sermon prep, and some loving Twizzlers from home in the USA were definitely a hit!

But along with the seriousness, the kids had a great time on this trip, and many laughs were had as students and teachers flew their way down a homemade soapy waterslide.

Teachers and students- same expression!

PE teacher gets in on the action

Stuntmen!

There is always more to tell, but I admit that I’m still recovering from last night’s ten hour bus journey (less than four hours of it on paved roads…)

As always

Lots of Love,

Diane

PS- Did I mention the teachers had Canadian Thanksgiving the other week? Poor Canadians, trying to be just like us Americans- even copying our holidays ;)

It’s all right! The real Thanksgiving is still to come!

Miss Terri, master of ceremonies

Some of the Heritage gang!

Food time!

Noms

It isn't a party if someone isn't teasing Michael, our IT magician and a dear friend :)

Mom, how much dessert can I have?

(No, I’m not ethnocentric, it’s just a running American/Canadian joke at school. Still though, the food will be better at ours! :P) -D <3 nbsp="nbsp">

A smattering of religious musing and falling in puddles.

This week is secondary Spiritual Emphasis Week here at my Christian international school. What that means: Every day this week the teachers and students of the middle and high school grades gather together to sing (or in the case of some students, cross their arms and look embarrassed,) and listen to a sermon that is focused on relevance to their lives. Today was pretty cool- the kids were given paper, markers, nails, and hammers, and were invited to literally nail their fears, imperfections, and sins to the wooden cross erected especially for this day. The point was that Christ has already died for all of these things; literally to save us from ourselves. To me it was an impressive painting of humanity. If you think about it, it can be a difficult thing to stand up, and by doing so readily admit that one has in fact screwed up somewhere along the line. As far as the kids were concerned, I think it was a powerful thing for each one to see that humility in their peers. The same can be said for the teachers, who almost all went up. Some took a great sign that it began to rain at the end of the service, seemingly offering everyone their own personal veil of white noise to contemplate the cross and what they might offer up to it.

It has been interesting here, being around others with similar and different views of faith, and of a general way of life. Some of my angsty high schoolers profess to be atheists, but still come to youth group on Fridays(?) Some were raised Christian but struggle with what seems to be a lack of personal relationship to their faith.

As for me, I’m always figuring. I think when you stop asking questions, faith stops. For the most part I fit in well enough here, with two exceptions (excluding completely semantic differences in rules. If we were speaking in terms of Judaism, I would say I have issues with Talmudic interpretation as opposed to theological Torah-based disagreements- some rules I still just don't get.) My Catholic upbringing let me pray to/through Mother Mary, which the ‘Born-Again’ sect (what is another word for that? I dislike that term immensely-) does not do. Also, probably because of my Catholicism, I am pretty hesitant to attribute every bad thing that happens to the devil. The way some talk, the dude walks around here tapping people on the shoulder (and of course if you believe that, it’s totally fine by me.) I’m more interested in recognizing that as human beings, we create a lot of our own problems, trespasses against faith and against other people. 

But, in true Muzungu Princess style, heading back to class after that impressive sermon, I promptly hydroplaned my sandal on a puddle and went flying to the cement. The students behind me (they were my own anyway,) instantly cracked up, and I skinned my knee (insert sympathy here, if between giggles you can muster any)! Still, at least I avoided the mud and saved my laptop any undue damage. So now all the boys laugh when they hear about it, and I have no problem admitting to my own mad skills at falling down in Uganda- and all the girls give me an apologetic ‘awww’ when they see I actually did rip some skin off my knee. Cool kids have battle scars. What can I say.   

I promise I have fun stories too, and will share them soon- I've just been a little swamped with accreditation work for the school and the usual teaching job stuff- grading, lesson plans, etc. Oh, and my formal observation today. Yes, even in Uganda. So teacher friends, there you go. And of course, my principal intentionally picks my most difficult class ;) But we wouldn't be in the profession if we couldn't get it done!

Lots of love,

Diane

Presently putting off marking papers.

Has it been that long again? The middle of September!? When did this happen?

Really I have papers to grade, but I have so much to tell you!

School here is in full swing, and all of my classes are crazy busy. My seventh graders are exploring culture as part of human geography, my ninth graders are plotting their own revolutions and writing their own manifestoes after reading Animal Farm, my seniors are working on college applications, and my eleventh graders are just beginning The Great Gatsby. I’m very excited to read Fitzgerald in the context of a Christian school. You know it’s going to be a fabulous mash of opinions, and very different from the passive acceptance of immorality found in some schools back home. My students are (mostly) curious, and it can be a lot of fun to engage them and discuss whatever the lesson happens to be within the context of their myriad backgrounds. Needless to say, every day is an adventure.

Our girls' soccer team rockin' out at their first game!

Speaking of, teacher friends- if you have any lesson resources for the following (as I am teaching them in East Africa with- you might say- scant resources,) please be welcome to email/facebook/ teleport them!

• ·         The Great Gatsby
• ·         Romeo and Juliet
• ·         9^th Grade Poetry (Western Lit)
• ·         Frankenstein (though I do have some cool ideas there already.)
• ·         Middle school world geography- I’m using the Prentice Hall World Explorer: People, Places, and Cultures textbook… and have no access to online tools, though I have sent the company my begging email. My seventh graders can’t sit still! So any geography activity ideas are greatly appreciated.

Our puppy, Simba, has put on a little weight since we adopted him last Saturday. He can’t get close enough to his mommies when we’re home from school, and he is always hungry. Simba may be as young as four weeks though (the shelter found him abandoned without a mother,) so he only eats warm milk mixed with either porridge or cooked rice. He is a little goofball though. Not quite strong enough to keep from falling all over himself just yet, though he can climb steps now.

Simba!

I’ve also had the change to meet some new friends and hang out with some old ones- there always seems to be something to do (and if you know me, marking papers always finds its way to as near to the bottom of the list as possible!)

I had been worried about my beloved Kanungu for a little while, but was able to meet up with one of the directors, and over lunch he allayed my concerns and I’m more excited about the library than ever. I also managed to quote the Bible in that conversation in relation to my concerns. It was a little strange. Like having the ultimate citation/evidence to back up your point, but I’ve never been one to preach. Don’t worry all; I’m not going off the deep end. Kanungu just deserves the best, most pure, and most moral aid possible. There is so much need, and so much ability to give. It is a great challenge and a great source of hope for me and a community of children and young adults. As always, still working on getting proposal approvals and financial data, so when I can call on you, my dear friends, for support, I’ll have lots of lovely information to share.

Some of the students our library will serve someday!

That’s all for now, though the adventure continues! As does my pile of grading...

Lots of Love,

Diane

Life in the city.

Has it really been so long since I've posted? Sorry sorry!

The school year is well underway here as we enter our third week, and I have for four classes, a month's worth of unit plans prepared. I've joined two committees here at the school, so I expect there to be plenty of long days ahead. But they should be fun, and definitely enlightening. I've also be nudged about helping out with the Taekwondo club. We shall see. I nearly did pack a dobok, but I won't dare risk having my rank shipped to me. It is a too precious piece of a former life- my mentor, the late great Grandmaster Wilson who honored me with it, and the people I trained and trained alongside for a decade of my life. Like I said, we'll see what happens as it comes.

My 12th graders have handed in their first formal grade- a piece of personal travel writing. Though they've been through peer editing I haven't seen any of them yet, so I'm quite looking forward to seeing what my kids can think up. Also, one of my 11th graders asked me to read and give some feedback on his "scribblings"- a young man's work in poetry. I'm pleased that he asked me (the boy likes to be stubborn in class,) and I think the work has a lot of potential in it, too. I'll have to see what poets he has already read. I've been scouring the two major (and basically only) bookstores in town (each the size of a mall's  Waldenbooks, if you're old enough to remember those,) for local literature. I'm loving the books written by East African Authors, though there's are so few of them.  Those plus a few international books that were probably tucked away in the dustiest corners of US bookstores so we never saw them make me think that I need to compile a reading list for you all. More on that to come.

I've managed to add some liveliness to the walls of my classroom since this picture was taken...

Now that school is getting into a rhythm for me, I'll also be getting back in touch with my contacts for the Kanungu library project (aka Uganda CHEER). I'll be so excited when I can post more info for you all- and I hope it will be soon! I just need like- to get over the need for sleep. Those hours can be much better used.

Socially things have been busy too- if I'm not hanging out its my housemates I'm seeing friends from Kanungu, and still meeting all sorts of new people.  Kampala is a melting pot like I imagined New York City to have been at the turn of the 20th century. There are people everywhere, and almost everyone is in the process of entrepreneurial creation. From small shack shops to large development and commodities corporations- there's something happening in and under every footstep.

But I bet you want to know about the goat races. Yes, indeed. The Royal Ascot Goat Races. Basically people pay a lot of money to see and bet on these goats that are chased around a track by a wall of foam mattresses so that they don't stop to graze or turn around completely. But people made a lot of money. The smallest purse on any of the races was 2million Ugandan shillings- one thousand US dollars. On goats! No wonder they call it the most elite social event of the year. I feel really bad because a friend of mine had a goat in the second race that could've won- but just as it reached the corner I was watching from, it's tied on tarp racing colors came loose and tripped him completely. Poor fellow went all the way to his knees before getting up again.
But that's why I'm not a betting gal.

The VIP (much more important than me!) tents.

A practice round.

Yes, they are being chased by mattresses to make them move!

My friend's goat is in the lead here, but tragically his colors fell off and he tripped into a loss.

In other news, a care package from my mom came this past week, filled with goodies including enough Nutella for the Third Army and a brilliantly chosen box of Carnation instant breakfast powder. Healthy and sustaining chocolate milk in the morning. I win.

So that's me for the moment! I promise I'll get into more detail when I find out which rock my free time crawled under to hide. 

Much Love!

Diane

A mushy post about family.

News from home has me shaken up. It seems like as soon as I have gone, there are little crises everywhere. And nothing that I can change from here. It’s so frustrating. I want to be with my family to support them through illness and heartbreak. As a write this, most everyone is on the mend, but this past week has been very hard as I balanced the start of school with my fears for my loved ones at home. I especially broke when I found my little brother was suffering (I call him my little brother, but truly he is twenty years old and about a foot taller than me.) I always though, prayed, or believed in my heart that after the death of our oldest brother, God (or whatever you believe in) would let me be the messed up child with depression and broken love entanglements, but that my little brother would be protected from all of it. That kid deserves the world. He is such a good boy. He is honest; he tries hard, does well in school, honors our parents, and shows kindness without having to be asked. Why does his heart have to be broken? Why does he deserve that? But I know to ask why when there are moments of pain means that you also have to ask why for every moment of happiness. Life comes as it does, and we cannot change it sometimes. I’ve sent messages to my army of family friends back home to support my folks and my brother, and bless them, everyone has stepped up. The showing of love from people who don’t owe us anything, but with whom we share bonds of familiar friendship is humbling and gives me great strength.

Dad, My Loved Step-mom, and I around my university graduation

My roommate calls these fears and worries a wicked earthworm (her term for the devil’s temptation, I think,) calling me away from my calling to teach here in Africa. It is safe to say that I’m firmly rooted here now, and committed to the work (though I haven’t learned my students’ names just yet!) But there is a lot of I would for a teleportation device, just to go home and give love and comfort as best I can. Somehow phone calls and text messages don’t seem like enough. I want to give hugs and bring orange Jell-o to my stepmom when her stomach hurts; I want to randomly drive my little brother to Hershey Park to distract him. But these a sister cannot do from Uganda. So I call our army of friends, and they have come, and I am humbled and amazed. My family is so loved, and not just by me. Though they would never admit it, I think it is a feather in the cap of my parents, who raised us right. My brothers and I are decent people (or so I like to think!) and I’ll never forget the sacrifices that my family made to form us that way. 

A particular shout-out to my step-mother, who was a comfortable mother of one before she married my father, then gladly welcomed his three (!) children into her home and has raised us as her own ever since. She was not obligated to do that. She did it selflessly and out of love. She supports me even now and gives me love and strength every time I talk to her. I didn’t understand it when I was young; I fought her and was a wicked child. But I understand now. Family isn’t easy. And we are all blessed to be loved. My mother too- she has struggled with her own pains and sufferings in life, but has always fought to be the mother that is in her to be. She has learned to be a good mother to adult children. And that’s not an easy thing! 

LIttle brother and Mom

So. All this just to say that I love my family and I am thinking of them as they go through rough times far away. If you know them, please shower them with love. My Facebook messages never feel like enough to show the squishy love of my heart.

Lots of Love,

Diane

PS- My friends, this all goes for you too! You are each and every one special and precious people to me. Thanks for being there, and being you.

Outside and inside my own head.

It is definitely fair to say that the school year is officially underway! Teachers have been in preparation for the last two weeks, and the students arrive for their first day on Friday. I have to say, it’s exciting but also a little overwhelming! For those in teaching, you’ll understand what I mean when I say I have four classes, and four preps! I will be teaching seventh grade geography and all of the high school English classes except for tenth grade. Our first term- that is the academic year leading up to Christmas, has sixteen weeks, and I have so much material to squish into it! My world geography curriculum has a total of twenty-three chapters. Imagine trying to teach Europe and Russia in a week! Fortunately, I have great friends and resources all over the world, and I’m sure that I’ll figure something out. The English classes should be a blast. I’m beyond excited to teach Jane Eyre to an international group of students, especially in a Christian setting where we can examine Jane’s relationship with God, which if you think about it, drives a lot of the novel’s later action.

I have also been having meetings with the Hon. Reverend Can. Dr. Hamlet, who is not only a spiritual advisor to me and a dear friend to my family, but is also instrumental in the library project. I am so excited to see literacy in Kanungu (my village) move forward! I dream of the ones who are young now being able to apply to university anywhere they want in the world. These kids could go to Harvard or University of Pennsylvania- if they had the early education that they so deserve.

 Primary School Students in Kanungu District 

As surrounded as I have been with fellowship and community, I have also enjoyed the quiet time to examine my new life and the true miracle that it is. I have told my new friends the story of when I first came to Kanungu- in the summer of 2011 I stood on one of the hills overlooking the whole village and realized with a shock that went through my whole being, that two years ago nearly to the day, I physically could not walk. In 2009 I spent six weeks in hospital, and when I first arrived, the emergency room doctors told my mother to call a priest. No lie. And in the time I spent in those sterile rooms in such pain, I was completely accepting of death. The fact that I am here now, doing something that I love and that is so dear to my heart- teaching- I can’t even describe it to you in words. There have been a few instances in my life that have convinced me that I’m living on gifted/borrowed time- the death of my older brother in 2006 (he was the best of us, and in dark times I still struggle with why,) the death of my dearest friend, and my own illness- sometimes I just can’t believe that I am here. And my family loves me. And my loved ones believe in me. How can that be possible? Not to get overly religious for my non-religious friends and readers; but from this I can only see grace. How else is this possible? When I was ill I remember my mom taking a picture of my swollen and wretched body, and sending it to her friends because she was just so delighted that my broken frame was able to sit up in a chair. How did I get from that to this? It’s a mystery. And a miracle.

 My Village Family, plus our friend, Will

My students come on Monday, and I know they come from stories as vast and various as my own. I have been surrounded with such a fine community of people, and I hope to be the positive influence on my students that others have had on me. I read a proverb somewhere (and if anyone can cite it, please let me know,) that said, ‘When a man dies, it is not only him who dies, but the whole library within him.’ I look forward to being a part of the libraries of the people I encounter, as I have loved the attachment of their stories within me.

More next week, when the next adventure begins!

Much Love,

Diane

Making the house a home.

I cannot tell you how much my heart is gushing with love and happiness right now- and it’s not just because of the amazing Nutella and honey sandwich I just had. Though it was pretty epic (but my keyboard is now sticky!)

My first housemate has arrived to our home here in Kampala- and she is the most loving and open soul anyone could ever ask for. I thought she might be afraid of my for my tattoos, but it turns out we both have life stories and the lessons and pains that come with them. Plus, she’s as nervous as I am! I don’t mean that we’re afraid of the job or the lives we’ve taken on, only that we have a deep wish to find friendship and fellowship with those around us. She also has a mastermind plan for how to run a shared kitchen (really a new experience for me!) so I’m relieved and delighted. Being in a new place with new people- I don’t know about you, but I always worry that everyone will make me out as some kind of freak. … Wait for snarky comment from my brothers…. Continue. It’s nice to be reminded that I’m seen as a human being, too. We both went through our photos from home and introduced each other to the 2D versions of our families. It was also a blessing to see someone as attached to their family as I am! Out here I meet so many expats who have been traveling for years- and already I can’t even accept being away from my parents and siblings at Christmas! Although the others have a lot more ‘freedom,’ I think the close bonds of family are a blessing. For my crowd especially, they are somehow hard earned, and thus cherished. No one understands as family does (as my previous posts attest!)

Room for three in Kampala

I’ve also been making friends outside the immediate circle of my school, which has been amazing. I always like to run with many different crowds- I value many different viewpoints. Through a friend, I have met Shifa and her family- they are the sweetest people of Kampala! Shifa is Ugandan, and with her British husband they have built an amazing household with three beautiful little boys. I mean, it’s a house I’d love to live in. Sprawling, with plenty of room for the family to be together and yet each having their own space, Shifa has decorated it with a finesse I had previously only attributed to my stepmother. It’s gorgeous, with beautiful African art alongside leather couches and flowing curtains. Anyone would gladly own this home in Rittenhouse Square. Not that anyone could afford such square footage. But it’s not only a lush house- the mother makes it a home for her crawling baby and water balloon flinging boys. I attended church with them this weekend, and Shifa stood at the front and sang gloriously with the worship. She is so full of vivacious life, and she is the kind of mother that every woman aspires to be. She could, with a small smile, encourage her five year old son to chew and swallow between mouthfuls of grilled ham and cheese, while simultaneously feeding the baby in her lap bits of bread, and maintaining conversation with her guests and making them feel most welcome in her home and family. I can’t wait for my Ugandan Maama to meet them. They’ll take to each other like glue.

It is people that make a place home. I am so grateful for the people I’ve come to know lately, and will continue to meet in the weeks to come. I’m also especially blessed and grateful for the continued love and support of family and friends at home. You’re the best!