Cat's out of the bag . . . I'm HOME!!!

I can't believe how long it's been since I have written last. So much has happened. There was meeting after meeting, facilitating discussions, activities with the students at both primary and secondary schools, visiting with guests (one was an Infectious Disease Doctor!), being stuck inside because of the rain, freezing my butt off when it reached down to 75 degrees, walking around the island, being tested for malaria (negative!), and so much more. But the biggest event, I AM HOME!!! After more than 24 hours of traveling (not including boat or land travel, just flying and layovers), meeting great people in the airport (even a law student from SC in Brussels), and finally breaking my flip flop in Washington D.C's customs area, flight delays, Starbucks coffee, and being starred at for wearing flip flops and a tank top when obviously the weather requires more warm cloths such as a coat and scarf, I am home safe, and sound...and a little cold.

I flew in last week, a little earlier than originally planned. The past few days I have been at home recovering from jet leg, unpacking, organizing and cleaning stuff, watching the shows on DVR, digging through my tubs of clothes to find stuff that will fit- my final weight gain was ten pounds, spending time with Brent and the kitties, and at all cost avoiding the Internet!

Saying good-bye was harder than I thought. I figured that since I had a few days in between leaving the islands, saying good-byes, and when my flight left that it would be easier, like an extended slow goodbye. I left the island on a Tuesday and spent the day in Jinja. Shanna was to head home on Wednesday, so Shanna, Ruthie, and I drove up to Kampala to spend the day before going to the airport. That night they dropped me off at the Matoke Inn. Even though I had 3 days before I flew home, I lost it during the goodbyes. Being in a room with 3 to 4 girls for the past weeks, it was strange to have a room again to myself and to be surrounded by quietness the next few days. Very lonely. But much needed time to just get lost in my thoughts.


After these few days of quiet and readjustment it's time to get back to the American life. Yep, flushing toilets. It's funny the little things that you miss when your gone and the things you miss when you get back... the pit latrine is one of them.
It seems so surreal that I am back, or that I even spent almost 8 weeks in Uganda. Almost like a dream. I keep expecting to wake up and be back under my mosquito net on the island, or wake up at home with my luggage by the door ready to head to the airport.


There are so many people, places, and experiences to describe and funny stories to tell, I do not know where to begin. So you guys ask away!

An Unexpected Greeting in Lingeria Village

Today Shanna and I walked to one of the villages, Lingeria. On our way out of the SHIM camp, Keeky asked if we heard the loud disturbance outside. A man from Katonga, was caught stealing a mattress. A large crowd was surrounded the man as they escorted him to Lingeria where the island’s jail is located. A local told Keeky, “We do not tolerate thieves here.” Keeky and I thought it ironic about their quick response to thieves but lack of response to the defilement of their daughters.

The purpose of going to Lingeria was it gave us something to do while the women’s bible study was going on, walking to Lingeria requires us travel towards the top on the hill of the island allowing for some spectacular views and photos, we could buy soda and biscuits (cookies), visit women and children in the village, take more photos, visit the primary school, and I could talk to Madam Jan. Madam Jan is very passionate about preventing defilement and has an interesting story about speaking out against a man who had defiled a girl and in the end her young daughter, around 3 years old, was murdered with poison. Madam Jan invited me to speak to a class tomorrow at 9am. Which is early. Breakfast is at 8:30, and then the 20 minutes walk up the hill and rocks. But it is worth it. Amanda the breakfast cook may cook early, if not I have packed plenty of oatmeal and as long as I get a cup of coffee I am good to go!

We completed our much needed tasks, with spare time to sit by the water and enjoy our soda and biscuits listening to the “waves” crash among the shore line. Storm clouds are rolling in rather quickly. Whoever said it was dry season was mistaken. The past week it has been raining every day, it even hailed yesterday! As we were walking back, I noticed a large crowed by the prisons. Me being me, nosey, I have to see what is going on. In the midst of the small people that has gather, the LC1 from the other village is here. This man I have tried several several times to meet one-on-one. Anyhow, he proudly showed us the man and his wife who was caught stealing the mattress. The mattress was on the other side of the room. This room is similar to my hut in Niger. The wife was not at all happy. They told the men that they stole is because they were poor. The men in the group asked us to take their photo, they want it in the paper. They had the man and his wife come out and hold the mattress! I couldn’t believe. Over a mattress, which here is a large piece of foam, and nothing over their young daughters being raped. But emotions aside and I didn’t have the time to start a public health teaching session, the rain clouds were getting closer and crossing over the rocks in the rain is dangerous, I took the picture. The wife refused to hold the mattress or look at the camera. I would not want to be that man locked in a room with her!

The whole point of the this blog was to share that I met on the men who helped saved the boat and my life! I noticed this man had what looked like burns on his right forearm. The skin was pink in areas and appeared to be healing. I asked the LC1 what happened to his arm. Turns out that he was the assist pilot on the boat that I was on. Assist pilot means that he “drove”. “steered” the boat since the regular pilot was not able to work that day. His name is Wakori from Kytonga, one of the villages on the island. I shook his hand and fighting back the tears, thanked him for his courage for saving the boat, explaining to him that he saved my life and everyone’s life that day and I am so grateful for him. My parents from American send their greetings. (meaning thanks, love, etc) His face lit up, being know me in American?!?!The LC1 told me the other man, the conductor (who takes the money from people and whatnot) was badly burned. He was able to return to his village last Monday. His name is Kasimu from Marindi village. Finally a way to track this man down to properly thank him. It will be a true honor to meet this man and his family.



P.S. I heard about the snow in South Carolina . . . did I mention I am sunburned from today's visit to Lingeria :p

Dobson Volunteer Service Program and Donations

Before I left for Uganda I applied for the Dobson Volunteer Service Program. This program can fund up to 50% of the cost in exchange for a minimum of 10 presentations. Presentations are used to educate others in not only your experience but also the importance of volunteering.

I recently found out the Dobson Executive Board selected me!!! They have awarded me the highest amount possible: funding for 50% of my trip. What a huge huge blessing!Eve more so because I had to pay out-state tuition this semester, which I did not budget when was planning for the trip in the fall. Because of the money situation, I had debated about whether or not to come until the week prior. Trying to determine if it was going to be worth it, and how I was to pay the bills from when I graduated and when I got one of those big-people jobs my dad keeps telling me to get.
Beyond the money is the the opportunity to educate others. When I come home from Peace Corps Niger, I was able to give presentations. My friend Jerilyn alllowed me to speak to her high school English class. I had a blast reliving moments and seeing the students faces with some of the pictures and stories. The students were not only learned about another culture and way of life, but I was able to reflect more of my experience and how I grew through preparing for the presentations and the students' questions and comments.

I do not have the paperwork with the requirements for reimbursement yet, it was sent to my home. I do know that I am required to demonstrate dedication to the initiative by raising the remaining funds. As you may know, most expenses were paid for prior to my departure and donation of tangible things were given to me at Christmas. Leave it to me to try to raise money for the trip during the middle of my trip. What can I say, I was meant for and adapted very well to Africa's concept of time.

Brent, my boyfriend, has been kind enough to figure out how to set up a donate button on my blog. He placed it in the top center of the page.
I do not have the exact total for my trip, it was only an estimate prior to my departure. The estimate was between $4,200 and $4,500. An actual total will be determine within my first of being home. My goal is to raise $2,000. I do not have a time frame because I do not know the requirment details. If donations exceed this amount, I want to donate the additional funds to SHIM, intended for the man who saved the boat and my life. I am still waiting for updates of his medical status, as well as who he is and where he lives. If this is not possible then funding for future anti-defilement projects.

Thank you all for your support, prayers, and encouragement.

Hugs from across the ocean . . .




"The Dobson Volunteer Service Program is a capstone service experience at the University of South Carolina. Participants engage in meaningful service internships and have the opportunity to make a positive impact in communities that have limited means to care for themselves in South Carolina and other locations, both inside and outside the United States. The University of South Carolina community has a strong ethic of service and continually engages in service locally, nationally, and internationally. The program is available to USC undergraduate students, graduate students, and faculty who meet selection criteria. Participants compete through an application and interview selection process. The goals for all participants engaged in the Dobson Volunteer Service Program are to develop an increased sense of civic responsibility and academic self-confidence; achieve higher grades; enhance leadership ability; develop critical thinking skills; and to deepen their understanding of national and community problems. By combining formal study with service to the community, students find that their learning takes on greater depth and meaning."


http://www.sa.sc.edu/stlife/dobson.htm

Week 7

Happy Monday!!!
I can not believe it is already March and I am starting my 7th week. Time has flown. It seems the days can last forever where the weeks go by like days.

I only have a few moments to write. It has been raining the past few days so electricity on the island is scare. The SHIM building is run by solar panels. So if there is no sun, there is no battery life for lights and charging phones, laptops, etc.

I have started working with the high school students on the island. They are just like American kids. The first activity with them, Experiencing Violence, they were given a scenario and were to come up with a 3 minute skit, drama, or song that let up to the scenerio. Luckily, Shanna was recording with the video camera because wow, these kids took it to the next level. A few times I almost peed my pants!!!
The skits were easily 10 minutes and full of excitement. With my American mind, I was sure that the teachers were going to ask me to leave, or not come back. But the teachers enjoyed them! They said that it helped them get to know their students better. There were over 100 students,so we did not have enough time to finish the groups. This afternoon, I am going done to the school to finish up the lesson, and reconfirm Friday's time.

The practicum is going well. The more information I gain, the more confused I become. Luckily, Gloria, a Ugandan SHIM staff member, is on the island this week. Gloria has been a lifesaver. She understands my exotic accent and my English. So she can translate my English to Ugandan English and Lunganda.

Health wise, everything is going well. Still gaining weight. I figure with my schedule when I return home, I'm just stocking up!
I have this fabulous flip flop tan on the top of my feet. That, my arms, and my face is the only thing that is tan. Fortunately I am hearing that it isn't that warm in Columbia yet.

Well I am off to visit a mother in one of the villages. She has a fabulous story/history that I will share later. But her 3-4 months baby girl, who was born several months early, came down with malaria this week. She is back from the hospital, but still sick.

Ugandans + Me + Boat Fire = Not a Good Morning

I know that I have not written in 2 weeks, so many exciting things and funny stories have happened. The weekend I wanted to blog, there was a minor incident on my boat ride from the Island to the mainland. Thus, I have been spending what time I can in quite time. I know me quite? Sitting still? Wow. It's shocking to me as well. It should be video taped, but that would be a rather dull video.

The boat story:
Now when I say boat, I mean a large canoe with an engine. Lingeria Island is 15 miles from the mainland, Jinja, by public boat it takes about 2 hours.
Also, Ugandans do not like water, and they can not swim. Lake Victoria is also very polluted. In some areas it would be like swimming in diarrhea. Everyone knows how I feel about Diarrheal Diseases.

Friday, February 19th, I was traveling from the island to mainland. The boat from one of the three villages, Kytonga, (Ki-tone-ga) was to leave at 9am. This boat was known to be reliable, on time, and seldom breaks down. I am told that being on a boat when it breaks down in the lake is no fun. I can imagine. We are near the equator, light reflects off the water, there isn't a breeze when you aren't moving.

Of course, I was running a little late this morning. Ruthie, and Shanna walked me down to the shore. We arrived right at 9am. To our luck, the boat was a little late. I was carried onto the boat, and sat. It took time to unload and load people and their stuff. Ruth and Shanna stood there until my boat was out of sight. I later found out they were standing there praying. Shanna had a bad feeling about me but did not know why. The boat was packed. I was sitting on huge bags of grain, as where many other people. Typical Uganda travel, no personal space and very crowded.

Meanwhile the Lingeria boat, also on the same island, is known to be usually late, and break down. This morning it was on time at 9:30am. I know this because I saw it pass where I was waiting. Thinking to myself, go figure. The early boat is late and the late boat is on time. As quickly as the thought came, it left. I went back to working on my tan and reading.

Also this day, I was carrying with me 3 life jackets to bring to the SHIM office for their visitors coming on Saturday, two of which are Ugandans. Life jackets are always carried on the SHIM's private boat, but rarely on the public boat. I was nervous that I might have too much stuff and I may be charged more. Luckily, not a big deal, and I used them to prop my feet on as they were laying onto the bags of grain. There was no room for my feet to touch to bottom of the boat. I had a "window seat" so to speak, so I noticed the boat was riding very low in the water, meaning more of the boat was under the water compared to usually.

Half way through the 2 hour trip, the boat stopped. Boats will do this to coast and save on gas. So I wasn't worried, or concerned. Although I do not really think it saves on gas, we only coast for a few minutes, maybe 10. I kept reading my book.
We are almost to shore, maybe another 8 to 10 minutes. The boat stopped. Hmmmmm. That was a little odd, but this is Uganda, who knows.
All of sudden people start screaming, the boat starts rocking and people are trying to move to the front. I turned around, I saw heavy black smoke. The back of the boat was on fire. Not good. Not good at all. The boat continues to rock and almost tips over several times. The grain/corn bags we were carrying, I believe this helped balance the boat when people were frantic. The flames were even larger. My mind was thinking, when do I jump in the water, not if, but when. But Ugandans cannot swim. If I jumped first, I was worried that they may follow, thus causing several people to drown. Second, I didn't want to blow up, but I am a mzungu (white/foreign person) I do not know how bad the fire was or if this is normal or what.

My first response, I found my cell phone, called Amanda at the office and told her to have people start praying, the boat is on fire. People were screaming in Luganda, I do not know what they were saying. Some people were screaming, we are going to die. My thought was yes, the boat will explode or we we go into the water, they will drown and I may drown. I am still somewhat calm, mentally, even though my body is shaking. I can see things but they are not clear. It was like my adrenaline was running high that my some senses were heightened and others had to decrease. I start untieing the 3 life jackets. I selfishly put on one. A young teenage boy turns to me and say, "madam, help me, please save me." I gave the life jackets.
If we had to jump into the water, I would have to leave everything I brought with me, my laptop, phone, money, all my paperwork, camera, everything from the past 4 weeks would have been lost. My life or things, I would have picked my life. However, I was also nervous that I would have been drown by the people given that I had a life jacket and I could swim. I can only help so many people, and frantic people I don't know how that would have worked out. We were quite a swim away from shore.

What seemed like 20 minutes, may have only been 5 to 10 minutes. When I first thought of jumping into the water, something told me to stay. Be still. Be calm. As if God had his hand on my shoulder telling me to wait. Trust me. Which at first, this may sound odd, but the spiritual growth I have had while I am here
. . . well let's just say God has been blunt with me. He knows me, I need that "Duh, slap in the face," kind of thing.

A man, I may never see again, was brave and wise enough to throw the burning jerry cans (2 or 3) of oil into the lake. Another man starts to slowly paddle the boat away from the flames. We are maybe 2 feet away from the fire. The flames are only getting bigger. I have never been in a situation like this, nor have I seen on "Man verses Wild" so I have no idea is the flames could still reach the boat. In my mind, I am not safe until I am on shore, then with SHIM, then back on a flight home, then back in my own home.

Another larger boat is behind us. At first I thought it might be pirates. Yes there are pirates on Lake Victoria. But it was the lingeria boat! The come closer, they were going to help us! As the boat was trying to get close to us, they ended up hitting our boat, almost tipping it over. The front of our boat scrapped along across their boat. People on both boats starts screaming. I have no clue what. But regardless of language you could hear the fear of the people on both boats. If we were to get on this boat, is there enough room, would it tip? The boat comes back. A man from the other boat, grabs my things, then grabs me onto their boat. I am shaking to much to try to move around the bags of grain, and the wooden seat without being clumsy. They manged to get most people onto their boat. A few men were left on the other boat. We are now several feet from the fire.

As we are riding into shore, the man who threw the cans of oil into the water was standing at the front of the boat. His face turned and our eyes met. The pain and fear in his eyes will forever be burnt into my thoughts. I saw his arms, the majority of his skin, was gone, there was no more black. It was whiter than white. I could see his skin at the edges of his burn peeling back. It was easily 3rd degree burns. I can not even come close to image the pain he was in. The breeze hitting his burns would have to be almost unbearable. Then knowing the kind of care that is in Uganda compared to the States. Even writing this, my heart goes out to him, and I can see him pain-filed eyes, and I am helpless.
This man will forever be my hero. He saved our lives. He prevented the boat from exploding. If he had waited a moment later . . . I do not know what would have happen.


Andy, Keeky's husband, met me at shore. As soon as I saw him, that is when I lost it. I cried hysterically, I shook like i was having a seizure, I'm sure there was some kind of panic attack. After I calmed down, I was told a friend of ours from another organization was on the boat that saved us. He told us that the engine caught fire that led to the jerry cans of oil to catch on fire. The man was taken to the hospital. I was originally told that out friend took him, but I later found out that he took another man to clinic. We are hoping we can find out who he is. We believe we know what island he is from. From his bravery, I do not know the consequences. Regardless if he worked on the boat, i.e. owner or boat driver, he will not be able to work, thus will be earning money, will not have money to feed his wife and children and so forth. The possible efforts are endless.

After arriving at the office, I only stay a few moments. I continued my trip to Kampala. I was suppose to have a meeting Friday with Mr. Lwanga but it was canceled that afternoon and we were going to try to reschedule while I was in town. I am staying with the Golembeski family, resting, having quite time, and joining in their activities to keep my mind occupied.

I am still absorbing everything in, so my thoughts are not clear yet, but I felt I needed to let everyone know. Physically I am okay. Mentally and emotionally I am drained. I am still trying to sort things out, putting myself in their shoes. Feelings their emotions and thinking their thoughts. What I do know, God worked several miracles that Friday morning.

The passage I have been marinating on is: Isaiah 66:13. "As your mothers you, so I will comfort you." I am not very open about my Christianity, but yesterday I truly felt the hand of God on my shoulder when I was on the boat. He kept my mind calm and relaxed. He told me to wait, be patient, do not jump yet. I am my father's daughter, I react over little things not big things. But it was God's hand that kept me from jumping and a level head. He also gave that man the courage to risk his own life to save others.

The other passages that have brought me peace and ability to ride a boat again- not public but SHIM's private boat.

" In my distress I called upon the Lord, to my God, I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to Him reached His ears." - Psalm 18:6.

"Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead." - 2 Corinthians 1:9


To reemphasize, I am safe. My coping is through avoidance and humor. Which is hard to do, hence why my writing is always better, more honestly and emotionally filled.

update on health

I am feeling much better today. I am just waiting for my energy to return to normal.

On another plus side, I have gained a few pounds! Have to love the carb diet: potatoes, rice, pasta, and posho (a local mushy carb). It's a law to have at least two of these at each meal. Rice and pasta mixed together are my favorite, with some kind of grease sauce. yummmmmm. My favorite street food is a rolex: a greasy chapati (tortilla shell) with an omelet wrapped inside (eggs, cabbage, garlic, tomatoes, and whatever else). It's a deal for 700 shillings. A chapati is only 200 shilings, but do not eat two of them back to back because it will give you a tummy ache.

Quick Reminder about Staying Humble

Yesterday after my afternoon bucket bath I was starting to feel a little better. Being clean always helps after being sick. Half an hour later I am walking to get some cups for an afternoon tea, I walked pass the same building as I did thousands of times before. This time, I caught my reflection in the window. My first thought was, wow, I look pretty, I wish Brent could see. I was wearing a light blue flowing skirt and my hair was down and curly. It is the very small things in Africa that makes a girl feel pretty, even less after being in bed for two days. For a moment all I could think was, "If Brent could see me he would tell me that I look pretty today."(He says this to me almost everyday, regardless if he has seen me. It's some of our "sweet talk") After getting cups, I tried to catch my reflection again, having a moment of being vain. Just then, I stepped in freshly laid duck poop. Not on my flip-flops but in between my toes and everywhere. It was just a mess and even more of a mess when I am trying to clean it up.

So this was my reminder on staying humble. You never know when you are going to go from pretty to poop.