Adventures in Africa

I bought a new torch (”flashlight” for all you Americans) recently.  It recharges by plugging it directly into a wall socket.  It’s sure been a handy little tool to own.  Not only does it provide powerful light, it also gave me several belly laughs as I read the warning labels on the packaging.  I’ll share a few here for your reading pleasure…

1. Please don’t shot the eyes directly, it would effect they eyesight.

2. Keep away from rain or wet.

3. Keep far away from exploders when charging, the charging time could not be more than 24 hours.

Please, by all means, don’t shot anyone’s eyes (whether directly or indirectly) and certainly stay far away from exploders.  I hear they can be quite dangerous.

These are some of the rules regarding food/eating at boarding school:

Students who starve themselves commit an offence
Gluttons shall be advised to transfer from boarding/dismissed.
All students are equal be it one is fat, tall, short, brown, black or white or white every body is equal during meals time. [How about the rest of the time–aren’t we all equal then, too?]

Some of the school supplies needed for a student in secondary school in Uganda…

Shoe polish
1 backet [bucket] and 10 litre jerrycan
Charcoal iron box
2 kilograms of Sugar
Panty peg for girls

A bit different from the States where kids bring folders, pens, pencils, etc. and facial tissues!

Being in charge of an AIDS orphans program, I get to communicate with lots of different schools in Uganda.  At the beginning of the first term (in Feb.), a few of our students were starting secondary school, so they brought us all the paperwork for the school they were hoping to attend.  I laughed out loud as I read some of the rules for these schools, while others made me a bit sad…

Premed hair, fancy earrings, high healed shoes, funny hair cuts, long nails, printed nails etc are not allowed.  [Wouldn’t you like to have some “premed” hair?]

Any act of hooliganism, in and outside the school shall not be tolerated.

English language must be spoken by all students in the school compound.  Speaking of vernacular is heavily punishable.

No student is supposed to discriminate, segregate, talk ill of or speak a unique language not known to the colleagues.

Sniffing of … petrol is prohibited.

These indecent dressing like “Mini skirts, tight clothes, abnormal slits, abnormal shoes, military wear, baggy trousers, head pieces, rings, ear rings, plaited or treated hair, toppies, even eye brow, lipsticks cutex, and indecent hair/dressing styles should never be worn with school uniform…. [I wouldn’t be caught dead with “abnormal shoes” or “indecent hair”!]

Non uniform will be confiscated, destroyed or burnt instantly.

Boarding girls/boys are highly prohibited from sharing one bed either one is sick, ill, it is cold; one has fear or new student in the school.  Students found bonding/practicing homosexuality, lesbianism commits a grave mistake.

Buying and selling of personal effects, property or exchange of property/belongings is highly prohibited.  Personal effects are property by the parents and no student bhas a right to sell or buy these properties.  Buy or sell at your own risk.

In order to develop physically, mentally, socially, every student must participate in extra curricular activities. [How can they be extracurricular if every student is required to participate?

One of the punishments for using obscene language: “Wearing a skull, tooth, a bone or carry a coin/wearing a coin around the neck for the whole day, week etc.”

Ignorance of any the above rules and regulations is no defence.

We celebrated the 100th day of school on Tuesday, April 7.  Our day was filled with all sorts of fun “100″ activities.  As a writing prompt, I asked my students to write a story that included something about the number 100.

Here is what they wrote:

Israel, age 6 1/2: I luve 100 theegxs.  thaeu maec my smialul.  sum are Lagos and close.
(“I love 100 things.  They make me smile.  Some are Legos and clothes.”)

Emily, age 6 1/2: I had Fono at The hangred porte.  iy had a god tim.  I lic tow mac The snac.  I pot The marchmeos in The bag.  The End
(“I had fun at the 100 party.  I had a good time.  I liked to make the snack.  I put the marshmallows in the bag.  The End.”)

Naseem, age 5 1/2: won Day I wet malt elgon.  I ord.  I swam and At and went Hom.  I At 100 fish and At Chips.
(“One day I went to Mt. Elgon.  I ordered.  I swam and ate and went home.  I ate 100 fish and ate chips.”)

Elyse, age 6 3/4: I had fun at The 100 prety.  The favrit Thig was The snak.  wee had a fun prety with The 100 prety.
(“I had fun at the 100 party.  The favorite thing was the snack.  We had a fun party with the 100 party.”)

Annalise, age 4 3/4: wuN day I wiNt to Thu Nosam wiN I wiNt to th Nosam I Got 100 PESiz uV pop KoN.
(“One day I went to the museum.  When I went to the museum, I got 100 pieces of popcorn.”)

Not only am I a teacher at heart, I also love to write, so these stories, with inventive spelling and imaginative details, are so precious to me!

Last week in class as we were doing various activities with vegetables, I asked my students to write recipes for vegetable soup.  Here are their recipes, though I don’t recommend trying to make any of them–you’ll either die of hypertension from all the salt or you’ll burn your mouth with too much garlic!  I’ve written each child’s original recipe (along with his or her age to help give you some perspective) and then “translated” it for you.  Enjoy!

TU SOP
1 C UV VEHS 3 CUPS
UV SOT TSUP.

ANNALISE (age 4 yrs., 7 mos.)

The Soup by Annalise

1 cup of vegetables
3 cups of salt
tomato soup
____________________
Gorlec VechtoBol Sop
BE Emily (age 6 yrs., 3 mos.)

1 copov carits 2 copov ledis
3 copovtomadosos
4 copov solt
5 copsgrlec

Garlic Vegetable Soup by Emily

1 cup of carrots
2 cups of lettuce
3 cups of tomatoes
4 cups of salt
5 cups garlic
____________________
veThTble sooP By Israel (age 6 yrs., 4 ½ mos.)

P cuqs fo colufllowr
10 tadle soons fo miny caris
P radishs
1 docx fo sollt

Vegetable Soup by Israel

9 cups of cauliflower
10 tablespoons of mini carrots
9 radishes
1 box of salt (”a tiny box”, he informs me later)
____________________
Vechtble Soop bie Elyse (age 6 yrs., 7 mos.)

1 Cap of flawre
2 cap of bacie sota
3 cap of baie patre
5 cap of Vechtbles
kereis        Kyucubres

Vegetable Soup by Elyse

1 cup of flour
2 cups of baking soda
3 cups of baking powder
5 cups of vegetables—carrots, cucumbers
____________________
To The Eid Naseem Biiy Naseem (age 5 yrs., 4 mos.)

Won Solt tow Spoonss Tmatoss

To The Eid Naseem by Naseem

One salt
Two spoons tomatoes

Abby, the playful and affection-seeking Great Dane on our compound, had nine puppies about five weeks ago.  I was disappointed that I was out of town when they were born, but Laura gave me the play-by-play via text messages and phone calls.  The puppies are absolutely adorable, and it has been fun watching them grow from tiny, blind, deaf, helpless newborns to playful, tug-on-each-others’-ears, running puppies.

The “runt,” who was the last-born and quite a bit smaller than the others, died after only a few days.  Of course, we were all sad about this loss; the Shero family even had a “funeral” to provide some closure for their three children.  However, the death of that small, helpless creature got me thinking about more than just losing a puppy.  I started pondering families in this place I live.  Most families have several children–6, 7, 8, 9, or more–but often times many of them do not survive into adulthood.  I’m sure some of you have heard statistics enough to make you numb to this reality, so I won’t bore you with those numbers.  But for me, it’s not just a string of numbers and statistics: this is my life.  The children who die are babies whose births I have rejoiced over and whose tiny bodies I have held in my arms.  Just a few months ago, two of our school employees (a guard and the cook/cleaner) lost children.  The guard lost his 15 month old girl and the cook lost a tiny 2 month old baby boy.  Both deaths were very unexpected and happened after only a very short illness.  The time from the onset of sickness to the end of these little lives was only a matter of hours.  We heard one report saying the baby died at the hospital because the power went off and they wouldn’t/couldn’t turn on the generator to continue the oxygen flow into his little lungs.  It is angering and sobering to realize how many children’s deaths could be prevented by simple things such as getting to adequate medical care on time (nearly impossible deep in the village), mosquito nets (to prevent malaria), reliable electricity (an oxymoron in Uganda), or basic medical knowledge/education.  I’m longing for a Home where death will be no more, where children run free and happy with no fear of disease or war or hunger or death, where our hearts and our bodies will know only life and the pain of this place will be but a distant memory.

Yesterday, I was riding a boda boda (bicycle taxi) home from town and I saw an interesting sight that really got me to pondering–not that it takes much to get me in a pondering mood…

On my ride home, I saw a little boy stealthily hiding behind a house, pointing a homemade toy gun around the corner to “shoot” at his friend.  He also had another toy weapon (not sure whether it was intended to be a rifle or a bow) slung across his back.  Really, this is not an extraordinary sight; little boys are known for creating weapons out of nothing and engaging in pretend wars, often much to the chagrin of their poor mothers.  While I don’t really like watching (or even hearing) boys play like this, I know there is something in it that is God-given, so normally I try to stay out of the way and let them play.  But yesterday, I was really bothered by what I saw.  Because I live in a place where little boys have been abducted and forced to shoot real guns at real people, ending in real death or disfigurement, I was seriously taken off guard by seeing this little Ugandan boy “play war.”  Even now, I have trouble getting his image out of my mind.

I’m still pondering, but I find it interesting that somehow in my mind it’s okay for American boys to “play war” but not okay for Ugandan boys.  Maybe because the reality of war is much closer to home here.  Maybe because I know the American boys are indeed just playing, but I have no idea what kinds of horrors the Ugandan boy has seen and may be reenacting.  There could be any number of reasons, but perhaps the biggest reason of all is that the thought of children hurting in the world is absolutely anathema to me.  Whether others inflicting pain on them, them wounding each other, or just the facts of brokenness bringing heartache to their little souls, I simply can’t bear the thought of little people hurting.  And that is why I’m here–to help bring healing and grace to a place that has been broken by war, poverty, disease, and sin, and to bring that healing especially to its little ones.

The week before Christmas break at Mbale Mission School, we had “Spirit Week” where all the kids (and teachers!) dressed up each day.  Tuesday was crazy hair and PJ day.  Wednesday, we dressed up as our favorite Christmas character.  Thursday was “ornament day” where we all dressed up as a Christmas ornament.  And Friday was wear your “make-your-own-Christmas-t-shirt” day.

Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer (a.k.a. Emily)–I was taking care of Emily and her siblings the night before this and in the morning before school.  As I helped her with her costume, she kept calling herself Rufus, the red-nosed reindeer.  It was hilarious!

Look at all those Christmas characters!  Israel (who didn’t want to dress up), Nasseem the Santa Claus, Annalise the Christmas princess, Emily the red-nosed reindeer, Elyse the angel, and Asher, Santa’s helper, in the front

Christmas ornaments: an angel (complete with hook to hang on the tree), a jingle bell, and a kitty cat

The kids were thrilled with the Christmas gifts I gave them!

Israel’s excited expression as he opened his Spiderman math workbook–It is a pretty amazing feat to get this “Eeyore-like” child to be excited about anything, so I was pleased with his response.