Homestay

Homestay has been interesting.

When we all got back from Future Site Visit, we met our families at our training centre in the afternoon. We talked for a little while. Then we went home with them to start our homestay living. One of my brothers and one of my sisters met me at the centre and walked me home.

My family, excluding me, is 13 people. Six boys, five girls, and mom and dad. They aren't all brothers and sisters; some are cousins but in Africa, that basically means brother or sister after a while. The boys are Johnson, 2, Junior, 10?, Freddy, 12, Godfrey, 19?, Brian, 19?, Adema (who goes by Robin), 22?. The girls are Daisy, 8, Joy, Sanyu, Gertrude, and Barbara, 20. Mom is Lenia and Dad is Roy. Going from living with just my Mom at home to living with a very large family is to say at the very least, overwhelming. I've also never had brothers and grew up most of my life with my Dad kind of being in and out, so figuring out those relationships has been somewhat difficult.

The family keeps two dogs, but not really in the American sense of pets. In Uganda dogs are more for security than anything else, and not pampered like in the US. Children may hit them with sticks or shoo them away from food (since kitchens are outside). They eat what they can find or sometimes the family will give them scraps from meals. During the day they are usually chained up in the “backyard” (behind my building) and let out at night so they can protect the compound.

Their house consists of three buildings, a main building where my parents and the girls and small children stay, another one which they just finished where the older boys stay, and my building, which has my room and a separate room (separate locking doors to the outside) where a few sisters and the smallest boy stay. The grouping of buildings are commonly referred to as compounds, just because it's typically not one large house, but smaller buildings where more buildings can be added on when there is more money.

I wake up at 6:30 or 6:45 every day. I sleep with earplugs in because there are a multitude of noises which happen during the night, including dogs from various compounds barking at each other or at noises their hear, goats crying out in the night, and loud music pumping from various sources around the community. Usually even with the earplugs, I'll wake up in the middle of the night to the dogs or to the music or to a radio in my compound, because one of my earplugs has fallen out. I can usually get back to sleep pretty easily.

When I wake up sometimes, it's to the radio that my building-mate/sister is playing outside. Everyone here listens to the radio, and I mean everyone. They listen to it at crazy volumes, and sometimes they'll have two radio stations going at once. To me it sounds like noise, but I've learned they have become accustomed to it and have extremely good selective hearing. Sometimes my mom will call one of my sisters from inside the building while we're outside and the radio is blaring, and my sister will respond. Mostly I don't even hear it when she calls.

After waking up I run to the latrine, because for some reason as soon I wake up I have to pee like I have never had to pee before. I am not alone in this after talking to a couple of my fellow Volunteers. We have a few theories, one being that there is more water in the food, since everything is cooked in a sauce/paste. Another is that we just drink more water here than we do at home. One of my theories is that it just takes longer to go to the bathroom here. At home you open and close a door, and then sit down. Here you grab your toilet paper, if it's dark you grab the flashlight, unlock your door, and walk maybe 50 ft. All that takes time that my bladder is not used to. One of my friends said that he gets up in the middle of the night to go, which I generally just avoid doing because of the abundance of mosquitoes.

The latrines consist of two stalls in a small tin roof building where the doors don't lock. When you go in, there's a small rectangular hole about six inches by four inches. Aim well! There's a wooden rectangular piece on the end of what resembles a long two-by-four that you use to cover the hole when you leave the latrine. This keeps the flies down, but my family seems to do it off and on and not really on any regular routine.

When I'm done at the latrine I grab some soap from my room and then pour water over my hands from one of the large jerrycans outside to wash my hands. Sometimes there is “running” water from an outside faucet, but depending on how many people are using it, it runs out by the end of the day. At that point, my sisters go to fetch water from the borehole (well with a large pump attached to it).

After this I go back to my room to try to prepare my bag and the clothes I'm going to wear for the day, while my sisters get water for my bath. I've tried to tell them that I want to do it on my own, but they spoil visitors here and so far I've only been able to fetch water for myself once. Sometimes they do it even before I'm even awake so I can't really say no. Then it's time for a bucket bath! Exactly what it sounds like. I've bought a small plastic cup that's usually used for drinking, but I use it to rinse my back because I can't get the whole cupping water in your hands thing down.

Then I rush to eat breakfast in about fifteen minutes and walk over to another volunteer's (Jamie's) homestay so that we can walk to school together. We used to walk with a third volunteer, Joseph, but we ended up being on different time schedules in the morning so now it's just Jamie and I, and we all get to our training center around the same time. Now we end up walking with a different volunteer, JJ, who lives a little farther from us but meets us on the main road.

It's about a 30 minute walk every morning to school, through multiple villages, across one bridge and crossing next to one bar. At some point in our morning walk, a crowd of small children will appear, usually chanting something like “Mundu how are you?” where Mundu is white person. We've told them our Lugbara names – Jamie is Ayikoru and I'm Letaru, both meaning happy or happiness – and sometimes they use those, but not the same kids show up every morning. They follow us for a while and grab our hands and try to feel if our skin is different from theirs because the color difference is so drastic. They usually run back home when some adult yells at them in Lugbara or when we reach some invisible line that they don't cross. Jamie and I keep walking in what seems like people's front yards, but there's an obvious well worn trail.

We cross down a slope that has banana trees and rice paddies at the bottom and cross the bridge over a stream and start the long climb up the hill out of our village area. That feels like the longest part of my day (unless I walk into town that day). At the top of the hill we cross a road where there's a bar on our left and we keep walking through some fields and reach another road, where we cross behind our training center and take sort of a back route to get to the front gate. We used to take a more roundabout way before we discovered the back route.

I'll talk more about language training in my next post but it's been pretty challenging and fun.

For the majority of language training we've been getting out anywhere between 3pm and 5pm. So then we walk back home and hang out and talk with our families. Part of the homestay experience is having them teach us language and work with us on language outside of class. I think most of the families then ask us to bathe before dinner (because at this point we are covered in dust), then we eat dinner and can usually hang out with the family after dinner or go in your room and do your own thing. We've got both extremes in our group where some people spend a lot of time with our family, and some people hardly any. It has a lot to do with personality.

I've tried to talk to my family a lot about where I come from. They tell me that it's so cold that if they went there, they would die. I haven't told them about how people live in Minnesota, if they can't even handle Michigan. We talk about what crops are available here that aren't at home and how the cooking is different. Most Ugandans cook outside with charcoal on small wire baskets called sigiris, or they have holes made in a slab of concrete where they put charcoal and place pots over them. Baking is done using a dutch oven, which is basically like placing smaller pots inside larger ones that have sand so that the heat is more consistent. Then you place something on top of both pots and put coals on top so there's heat from both sides.

A lot of the kids in my family love American pop and rap music, a lot of which I don't have on my iPod, so I just play them other music. A few of the kids really liked Flogging Molly, an Irish (Scottish?) punk band. They thought it was hilarious and could not understand a word.

We've also talked about some American politics, taxes and culture in general, mostly with the older kids. For them, it's strange to meet someone my age who doesn't have kids or isn't married. A lot of the kids go to school in Kampala (the capital city, about 8 hours away by bus), so they are introduced to different ideas of family and culture. The culture in the cities is much different than in the villages, much like the culture in American cities is different than farm culture.

These are the pictures and videos I have of my family (and random neighborhood children who like to dance). A lot of my family I didn't manage to capture on camera. The kids always want to be on camera, but my older host siblings are always doing something (the girls, cooking, cleaning, washing and the boys off playing at another family's house or in town somewhere). Plus I don't take a lot of pictures naturally, so I was trying to force myself to take pictures so that I would remember this experience. Here's what I've got!

 Passionfruit juice which my mom makes. I wish I could take jugs of it home with me to America.

 My homestay mom, Ilenia. She's awesome.

 An example of what I might get for tea: rice, bread and butter, cucumbers, eggs, tea.

 Fish and chips. Literally.

 Close up on the fish.

 Another tea meal: watermelon, avocado, bananas, carrots, passionfruit juice.

 I probably should have asked, but I think this is savory bananas cooked in a sort of meat sauce. I didn't like this one that much.

 Bananas, carrots, bread and butter.

 Jackfruit! This stuff is pretty good. If it's not quite ripe it smells weird, but it's delicious. It was the original flavor for Juicyfruit gum.

 Chapati, chips, sausage, beef.

 My youngest sister, Daisy.

 The main compound from the back as you come in from the path.

 The kitchen!

 The main building from the front.

 The building where I stay, across from the main building. My room is the window on the right.

 The building next to mine where the older boys stay.

 Another sister, Barbara.

 Isaac, who works in the family's field (unsure if he's related?). They all call him Lago.

 Compound as a whole.

 Toilets.

 Clothesline.

 My homestay Dad, Roy.

A shirt my mom got me because I said I liked hers. It's short sleeve and pretty comfy.

Future Site Visit

Future School Visit

So from the 17th to the 20th of December, I visited the school I'll be working at for the next two years. It's pretty far north, about an hour or so from the South Sudan border. We left Shimoni on the 17^th at about 6AM (before sunrise)., and after dropping everyone else off at their sites, I arrived at my site at around 7PM (after sunset). My principal met me in the last large town before mine to drive me the rest of the way. The majority of the journey was made on a rented bus (coaster) which was provided by the Peace Corps.

The roads in Uganda are pretty terrible, and even Ugandans will tell you this. It's one of the things they request most from their government, local and national: fixing/updating/paving the roads. Asphalt is referred to as tarmac here.

The roads between the large city where I can do a lot of shopping and my specific town are worse than I had seen anywhere else yet in the country. The road was more like a collection of potholes with no vegetation. My principal kept talking to me about their condition, and how they were supposed to be worked on at least once a year, even if it's just bringing more dirt to even out the levels. But the ones we were on hadn't been worked on in over a year. We were in a small truck which belonged to the college, and it was still taking us a very long time to reach our final destination.

My school is breathtakingly beautiful. I keep saying this to everyone I meet. Large trees with lots of shade and red dirt paths, green grass and green-yellow hedges, mango trees, giant palm trees, and a nice wind to keep the air circulating. Some people at the school said that God has blessed Africa and Uganda in particular because anything planted will grow. I explained that in America, the percentage of people who grow the food relative to the amount of people eating the food is very small, and many people in cities have problems with hunger. I said that there is no way they can grow all the food needed to sustain them, mainly because of climate. If you can't plant outside, it takes a lot of investment to grow all your food inside. They just shook their head and said that Africa was lucky.

The girls dormitories.

 Classroom block.

 Administration building.

The college vision.

I spoke to my principal about my preference to teach maths and computers and he was totally on board, which was really nice. I'm actually excited to lesson plan (weird) but I'm also excited to move into my house, which I got to see while I was there.

My house is not actually finished, but I got to see the work being done on it. Pouring concrete, laying plumbing lines, and a place where I will probably be able to have solar electricity. Solar is super popular here, and even if most families can only afford one, they get one. Sunlight is guaranteed, so it charges during the day and gives you a few solid hours of light at night (after 7PM).

The really local market is just down the street from my house, and we learned all the market phrases in language class today ( the price is too much – aje tu, how much are the mangoes? - mango mi ozi si?). It's nice because it's sort of a smaller town and that way I don't have to walk far to get food. My house is also just down the road from my school, so even in rainy season it's not hard to get to school. There is a police station across from my house, and I live near a bunch of nuns and priests, so I feel pretty safe. Still locking up my house at night, but I think it will be good be in such a small community.

My principal is a really good guy, and tried to introduce me to a lot of people, many of whom I'm sure I won't remember. But I also greet people on the street all the time (it's what you do) so they will probably remember me.

Next entry I'll talk about our language classes and maybe homestay – with pictures!

Last Night At Shimoni

Tonight is our last night at Shimoni. Tomorrow morning we go off to our separate schools to visit for a few days, meet the administrators, see the town, see our future housing, and just generally get to know the area. After that, we go to our satellite locations and meet and stay with our host families.

We've only known each other for a month, and now we are all spending a month apart. We will still see our language groups every day for language/culture training, but the whole group will be split up all over the country.

As I mentioned earlier, it feels like we are perpetually saying goodbye. First it was to America, then to some volunteers who had to ET, now it is saying goodbye to living as an entire group. The truth is that we have not been having a Peace Corps experience, but a Peace Corps training experience. True Peace Corps is adapting to situations on your own or perhaps with one or two other people, not knowing the language and not being able to express yourself as much as you want to, and being frustrated when things don't work out the way you are expecting.

I've enjoyed training so far, even if at times it's been hectic. Learning how to teach in Uganda, bonding with my fellow teachers, and learning a new language and culture while supporting each other has been a valuable experience. But it's been comfortable. Even with pit latrines and unfamiliar foods, it's been comfortable. Leaving each other will be uncomfortable.

I remember getting here and being super stressed about it, and now everything feels fine again. And we are going to do the same thing again, be super stressed about homestay and more training, but it will probably be fine. A series of events taking us out of our comfort zones further and further.

I'm not really sure where I was going with this other than I wanted to document how I was feeling tonight to be able to look back. The country is beautiful, the sun sets in about five minutes and at exactly the same time every day, and tomorrow I leave behind most of my group. To any in my group reading this, I've had a really good time. I hope to travel to all of your regions at some point. Let's rock our service.

Uganda's Education System and Pictures!

Okay so.

Uganda's education system breaks down like this:

First there's Nursery school, which not everyone attends because of monetary concerns. This is like kindergarten. Then comes Primary school, with grades P1-P7 (Primary 1 through Primary 7). This somewhat equates to elementary and junior high combined. Usually, pupils are around 6 years old when they enter P1, but there are still a wide range of ages in all grades, for a multitude of reasons. Most of Uganda's industry is still agricultural, and so many students have to help tend farmland, banana gardens, and animals at home, as well as helping out with household chores. That may keep them from school. Or they may have started school and not had the fees to continue, and so dropped out for a year or so and then came back in.

Primary school is separated into Lower Primary and Upper Primary, where the lower grades are P1-P3, and upper are P4-P7. In Lower Primary, all instruction is in the local language, but the pupils do have English classes. P4 is the transition grade where they begin to teach in English. After P4 all instruction is in English.

After graduation from Primary, students go to Secondary school (like high school.) This is also split like Primary into Lower Secondary and Upper Secondary. There are four years of Lower Secondary and then the students take exams. If their marks (grades) are good enough, and if they can afford it, they can go to Upper Secondary, which is two years. That path generally leads to Post Secondary education, like University or a National Teacher's College, which is a higher prestige teacher training facility.

Many students whose marks are not good enough after Lower Secondary come to the Primary Teacher's College (PTC). It's unfortunate because many of them do not want to be teachers, but it is the path which is open to them. There are other options, like vocational school, technical institutions, and nursing school, but PTCs are the most common. Teaching classes at a PTC (primary teacher's college) means that you are teaching future teachers content as well as teaching methods. It's sort of like in the US if you took the education department of a college and made it it's own school and campus and only focused on teaching. Since these are primary teachers, they review the content that they will be teaching primary students.

We finished our two weeks of practice teaching yesterday (Thursday). The first week, I taught two math classes, one with another volunteer and the other by myself. Both classes were to do with converting fractions and decimals to percentages, and then the reverse process as well. This week, I taught Science lesson planning. On Wednesday, I taught the structure of a lesson and had a song to help them remember the parts of the lesson, and gave them time to write lesson plans. On Thursday, they presented them! I think it went very well and I was pretty proud of them.

We had so many sessions about teaching and classroom management and lesson planning, but it was all so overwhelming before we came here (has anyone read Teach Like a Champion?). When it was just a concept, I was terrified about it.

I was so nervous about teaching here, as many of the other volunteers have a lot more teaching experience than I do. But it worked out far better than I expected. I think living here and being out of my element has forced me to become who I've wanted to be. No one here knows me, or knows who I've been, so I can be whoever I want to be. Currently, it's been manifesting as a musician. I'm becoming known as the person who writes songs and never stops singing. I wrote a lesson planning song, and I wrote a song for the holiday celebration we're having tonight, which if I can get enough internet, I'll upload a video of. But I also just sing randomly throughout the day, and until people pointed it out to me I didn't even notice I was doing it. And singing/dancing just works with this culture.

Ugandans know a million songs and dances that they can teach you or bust out at any moment. It's just an integral part of who they are as people. It's so great, and helps in the classroom because they are willing to sing and dance about any subject. Today we had an end of two-week celebration, and the students presented songs and dances to us that were just phenomenal.

I feel like I've got so much to say, but I'm still figuring out how to say it. So here's some pictures to tide you over until I can find the words.

My first bed in Uganda, at our training centre near Kampala.

 The view from the porch of the main training hall. Kulika is an organic farm.

 These pictures are from driving around Kampala and Entebbe. I just wanted to give an idea of what traffic is like. There's a lot of roundabouts.

 This is a matatu (taxi). It says 14 passengers, but really they pack about 20-30 people plus animals and luggage on them (including the top storage rack).

 Water tanks at the teacher's college.

The students danced and sang for us today and yesterday as well. 

 The view from the front of the main training hall at the teacher's college.

 The back/side porch of the training hall.

 The beginnings of our Christmas tree. It has a lot more decorations on it now.

The view down the road from the girls' dorm at the college. 

 The view up the road from the girls' dorm.

 The building where I'm staying. The girls' dorm has a barbed wire fence surrounding it.

 Some of us made snowflakes!

 Our schedule for today. CHAKPE stands for the name of our personal party, Christmas Hannukah Atheist Kwanzaa Party for Everyone.

 Wall of folders/warm fuzzies. Basically we write notes to each other and drop them in the folder.

 More performances from the students.

 My current bed at the college. The mosquito net is so pretty!

Thanksgiving and Kampala

Last week all the trainees, trainers, current Volunteers, and lots of PC staff converged on PC Headquarters in Kampala for PC Thanksgiving. The neighborhood where HQ is sits on one of the many hills with a beautiful view of the city. Lots of red roofs, red dirt roads, palm trees and giant storks, and miles (or kilometers, rather) of hills.

Backtracking a little bit, on Sunday the 24th we all went to Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. Normally, Volunteers don't travel in the city for safety reasons, but we were all in groups getting a city tour. We saw a couple of malls, and figured out where to go to get to the PC HQ, and had to sort of find our own way back to the training centre. I say sort of, because the trainers showed us the taxi park and where to go.

The taxi park was completely packed, and we went to the New Taxi Park, which was very slightly less crowded than the old one. Taxis in Uganda all look exactly the same. They're imported vehicles that look like a mix between a minivan and a VW bus with Asian language characters printed all over them. Sometimes the seatbelts work, sometimes they don't. They also have pulldown seats in the middle of the aisle we're calling jumpseats. When they're all down, the aisle disappears.

I walked through the city with my backpack slung around my front because they recommended it. I don't currently have a purse that zips, just a backpack or a tote bag. It was not recommended to go to the city with a bag that doesn't close. It felt strange, but a large group of non-Ugandans are consp

The city is very busy. There were boda bodas (small motorcycle taxis) zipping around between all the matatus (bus/van taxis) and the cars and the larger coach buses and the many supply trucks. In short, the visit made me happy that I will be going to a rural site in the north rather than a larger city site somewhere urban. Though it was nice to have modern malls and flush toilets and cellphone stores, I think I will prefer the slower pace and fewer people of rural life.

We've since moved from our initial training site to a Primary Teacher's College (PTC) where we are doing school practice (student teaching) for two weeks before moving on to visiting our future site and staying with our homestay families. I have a lot to talk about regarding teaching but I'm going to leave that for a future post because at this point I am super tired and happy it is Friday. When we're not teaching, we're observing other Volunteers and Ugandan teachers teach, so our days are pretty full. 

P.S. If there's anything you are curious about, feel free to ask and I can elaborate!