Friday, June 29, 2007

Passion in the Land of Posho

Stomachs are revealing, too. They rumble when needy and churn when upset. They make noises just for the hell of making noises. Some may describe them in terms of gastric juices and digestion jargon, but the stomach is really just one big basket of I-told-you-sos. I told you to finish the plate, I told you not to take the second helping, I told you that Grandma’s is the best, I told you it would taste that good, I told you not to mess with me, I told you I told you I told you…

When Bonnie Raitt came out with “Something to Talk About,” I doubt she was singing about stomachs. But tummies talk 24/7, and Uganda has surely given mine lots of things to talk about. It praises greens (the generalized veggie of East Africa) and raises the roof every time chipati makes an appearance. It rages on and on whenever meat and fish try to slither down, and it still has yet to fully make a verdict on the rarely white, ever so popularly dark let’s-hope-it-tastes-like-chicken chicken. Thankfully, Pepto Bismol and his prescribed ally Cipro haven’t had to mediate. Yet.

Above all, my stomach dishes out the most on posho. Posho: a white, sticky ball of watered down corn flour. The bread and butter of starch (without the bread and butter). The nuts and bolts of carbohydrates. Yes, posho puts the b in bland. But my stomach is a fan. And it happily talks whenever and wherever posho falls onto my plate.

However, my stomach was not the only thing talking when posho was recently served at supper (supper, not dinner, is popularly said in this neck of the global woods). In fact, it seemed like everything – every feeling, thought, fear in my brain and heart and body and soul – was shouting to be heard. Over posho, I was engaged in a deeply intense (and rather intensely deep) conversation with my fellow AGRADU-ers Sandra and Austin. Of course, none of our supper conversations start off deep or intense. We hardly brainstorm questions that lead to illuminating, even irksome answers. No, we just look at the table. Sip down our Cokes and Fantas, fill up our plates with food, and start chomping down on the posho.

That night, the topics were many. Love. Race. Religion. Culture. Gender. Everything outside of politics that you’re not supposed to talk about at the dinner (I mean supper) table. And the tangents were just as intimidating. How to be respectful in a foreign land. How to understand and form the bridge between difference and similarity. How to connect beyond beliefs and values and move into something just as rich. Big things to simmer over and work through. Tough things to chew on.

Big and tough things aside, there were many significant moments in our conversation that night. Tiny seconds of earth-shattering and earth-making reflections. Moments that recalled just as mind-blowing, This-Thing-Called-Life-Is-Big kind of moments. Moments when I realized that I have not had the most open of minds. A conversation about gender when I turned my ears off and tuned out. A discussion with youth involving the Bible that I deemed ineffective in my neat and tidy separation-of-church-and-state world. But also: moments when I realized that Uganda has given me glimpses of the very passions I already knew but now can affirm. A reinvigorated desire to eradicate gender inequity. A spiritual journey on my own terms. An interest in not just believing but engaging in change. As taboo the topics at supper may have been, our conversation got me thinking.

After all of the posho had been downed, I rushed back into my room to scrawl out some last-minute reflections into my journal. Most of my scribbling dealt with two elements increasingly brewing inside of me: passion and an open mind. While most of the chicken scratch that is hidden in my journal pages led to no solidified epiphany or direct answers, I realized that passion and an open mind can, at times, be opposing forces. That to be passionate can restrict an open mind, that to have an open mind can stifle passion. I also understood how, at other times, passion and an open mind can be complementary, even partners in crime for a world traveler. That an open mind can challenge, morph, even mold passion. And that passion can stir an open mind to reach better understanding.

Who knows? Maybe my making sense of passion and of an open mind has yet to make sense. For you, for me. And perhaps my quibbles over open minds without passion are energized by the books I am reading here: Alice Walker’s Meredian and Tracy Kidder’s Mountains Beyond Mountains. Maybe the combination of a fictitious commentary on revolution and a real account of revolutionary change is the fuel for my train of thought. Nevertheless, I am immensely enjoying the ride.

Ask Sandra and Austin about that night’s conversation, and you will probably get a different story. Then again, there-is-never-one-side-to-a-story kind of story is the only one I know. And this is my version. My Ugandan chapter of Life. The part when I am learning many things. My inward journey. My self-discovery. My unlocking of passions. My knowing and living and loving of me.

For now, I have nothing left to say. Only my stomach has the drive to talk. And it is saying one thing and one thing only:

Passionately pass some more posho, please.

P.S. Internet is a tricky thing in Uganda. This post is already a week old. Sorry for the delay. :)

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Greetings from Mukono!

Finally! I am updating this blog! Needless to say, things have been pretty busy—and I’m also just getting over a bout of malaria. It has become very apparent how malaria can cause a profound impact on Africa’s economy; you literally cannot work. Reuben , the programs director here at Kyetume, tells me that he comes down with malaria about once a month. The kind I had was only a positive +1; so they saw one parasite for the small drop of blood they tested; most of the Ugandans here could still go to work with this—but with +2 or +3, then they’d be out.

Where to begin? Well my first day in Kampala was a bit of a rough initiation I suppose. Essentially, I had a bag stolen in an internet cafe (containing my digital camera, cell phone, digital voice recorder, glasses…). It was astonishingly quick! I placed my bag on the computer desk, turned to pay (while Vesall was watching all the bags, mind you), turn around and then it’s gone without a trace—neither of us even saw anyone! I then had a fun time of running around Kampala, filing a police report and such (of which they made me go across the street and make copies of since they ran out of forms-- which wasn’t too bad, though one officer kept suggesting that I should help “facilitate” their search, haha. I didn’t pay anything. I wasn’t really expecting to ever see my bag again at that point. The other crazy thing was the man who was helping me, from the internet cafĂ© to navigate through Kampala, my one point of trust and guidance in all this, was suddenly ordered to, “Sit on the floor!”, “Take off your shoes!” “You are a suspect, you are a thief!” And sure enough they even had a warrant (with his picture) for stealing a laptop. Apparently though he had just borrowed it from his friend (who also happened to be a police officer), but had over-extended the agreed upon time, and was unable to be reached. So he had to leave with some officers to retrieve the laptop, but inexplicably gave me his bag to safeguard in the meantime. Strange indeed. Oh, and throughout all this, I was getting a rash and advancing swelling in my arms—apparently a bad allergic reaction to my malaria medicine. It all worked out though in the end.

I suppose I should start a couple weeks back though— I am interning at Kyetume Community Based Healthcare, in Mukono, Uganda. Their mission statement is that, “Kyetume CBHCP strives to improve the general health standards of underserved rural people within Mukono District and Uganda at large by influencing socio-economic behavior of rural communities using a community based involvement/participatory and human rights approach.” I’ve been very impressed with the range and depth of activities that they support. Some of the big ones include: HIV/AIDS Palliative Care Project—have over 1,000 registered HIV+ patients that they provide testing, home visits, and treatment for opportunistic infections; an orphans and vulnerable children support programme for over 4,000 orphans in Nakisunga Subcounty, including training in organic farming, heifer project, and microfinance scheme; water and sanitation projects including spring protection and pump repairs, vocational training and other income generating activities for OVCs, school dropouts and young mothers; health rights promotion for sexual and reproductive health among women’s groups, school gardens and other food security initiatives, and a virtual army of community health workers. How’s that for comprehensive healthcare?

My first day was a bit overwhelming—since they were expecting three interns (with Jaymin and Adrian), their anticipated workload for me was bit large as well. We’ve talked about things though, and I think I’ll be able to handle it, plus a few additional things that have popped up. One of the main things I’ve been working on is expanding their microfinance scheme. It was initiated in 2006 through 3 of the 8 parish-level orphan support groups that Kyetume works with. After receiving a government grant, each parish was allocated Shs 420,000 (USD $255). So one of the things that Reuben has suggested is investing AGRADU’s $500 into the microfinance scheme, a funding increase of 65% overall. I’ve been able to talk with a lot of the different parish leaders about the operational aspects of the program, as well as the limitations, and their goals for it.
Some of the other things include a proposal for equipping the new HIV/AIDS center they have built, as well as one for expanding their Information Communication Technology resource center to offer distance learning courses and IT certification. This would necessitate internet access for one, which is ridiculously expensive here--- $6,000 in initial set-up (equipment, installation, configuration, etc.), and then $350 per month for 256 Kbps speed internet. So if anyone knows of any companies/grants that support internet or technology-access in developing countries… that would be very helpful… In the same technology-is-more-expensive here vein, cell phone calls are 30cents a minute!

For more run-of-the-mill details… the weather has been a bit unexpected here. The last 2 weeks have been cold and rainy, and today there were 2 earthquakes while I was at work!

The atmosphere at Kyetume has been great though—a lot of new people in and out all the time. The first week I was here they were doing massive training of community health workers in the center—so a lot of singing and clapping was happening. The center also has a room of sewing machines, so young mothers come to work, as a means of income generating. They also bring their babies with them. So it is a pretty ideal place for free-ranging babies, and chickens, both of which are quite prone to wandering under and around my desk on a daily basis. Who could ask for more?

I hope everyone is doing well—
Weraba (farewell),
-Danika

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Nafula

Today marks two weeks that I’ve been a member of Friends of Christ Revival Ministries’, FOC-REV, staff. Upon arriving in Busia, I was greeted by a group of men in pink shirts insisting on carrying my bags and taking me across the boarder into Kenya. It was a bit overwhelming but they soon backed off when they realized I wasn’t going to pay them to take me anywhere. Later, I learned they were Boarder Men and they earn their living by riding people on their bikes to various destinations. Soon after we arrived, Sandra, Andrew, and I were picked up by a FOC-REV staff member, checked into our hotel, and then dashed off to the FOC-REV office to meet the entire staff. Everyone was very kind and asked many questions about the United States. One of the most interesting conversations I’ve had with a FOC-REV staff member occurred this week. He asked me how long I had been in the United States because my accent was gone. When I told him I was born there he looked a little confused and then asked where other members of my family had been born. I told him they were all born in the United States, and though I knew as an African-American I had descended from African, I didn’t know which country. He was baffled and expressed how unfortunate that was. He went on to encourage me to research to find out where my family had descended because it is so important to know your family's heritage. I told him that I would do so.
The following week we were busy visiting various sub-counties and villages interviewing beneficiaries for a recently funded program. The interviewing process was a bit challenging at first because very few of the people spoke English, but, with the help of interpreters, communication became less of an obstacle. The first question on the interview page asks “Has the PHAS been tested and found positive?” I thought for a moment “What have they been found positive for and what is a PHAS?” Almost instantly, after I had questioned myself the answer occurred to me and my heart was filled with sadness. I looked around the room examining the women nursing their babies, young men sitting closely to their wives, elderly men and women, and realized that every person present was infected with HIV/AIDS. I was heartbroken and for the first time I could honestly comprehend the seriousness of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Africa.

We’ve been busy this week training groups for the Sustainable Livelihood Initiative. Through this program FOC-REV provides funding for local community groups in hopes that they will one day be able to sustain without their help. During the training sessions we discussed leadership roles, the proper manner to run a meeting and managing finances. The people in my group were extremely polite and made me feel comfortable. I introduced myself as Nafula Austin and they loved my efforts to be respectful of their culture. In Busia all people are given a local name in addition to their first name. My name, Nafula, means born during the rainy season. Although I wasn’t actually born during the rainy season, my Mother loves the rain and I decided if she had to choose a name for me it would be Nafula. At the conclusion of the sessions we handed out manuals containing all of the information we had discussed throughout the week. The participants seemed appreciative and hopefully they will take heed to what we discussed and become very successful. Before we leave we plan to visit the participants during one of their meetings to check on their progress. I’m excited about what next week entails.

Nafula

Today marks two weeks that I’ve been a member of Friends of Christ Revival Ministries’, FOC-REV, staff. Upon arriving in Busia I was greeted by a group of men in pink shirts insisting on carrying my bags and taking me across the boarder into Kenya. It was a bit overwhelming but they soon backed off when they realized I wasn’t going to pay them to take me anywhere. Later I learned they were Boarder Men and they earn their living by riding people on their bikes to various destinations. Soon after we arrived Sandra, Andrew, and I were picked up by a FOC-REV staff member, checked into our hotel, and then dashed off to the FOC-REV office to meet the entire staff. Everyone was very kind and asked many question about the United States. One of the most interesting conversation I’ve had with a FOC-REV staff member occurred this week. He asked me how long I had been in the United States because I my accent was gone. When I told him I was born there he looked a little confused and then asked where other members of my family had been born. I told him they were all born in the United States and though I knew as an African-American I had descended from African I didn’t know which country. He was baffled and expressed how unfortunate that was. He went on to encourage me to research and find out where my family had descended because it is so important to know your family. I told him I would do so.
The following week we were busy visiting various sub-counties and villages interviewing beneficiaries for a recently funded program. The interviewing process was a bit challenging at first because very few of people spoke English, but with the help of interpreters communication became less of an obstacle. The first question on the interview page asks “Has the PHAS been tested and found positive?” I thought for a moment “What have they been found positive for and what is a PHAS?” Almost instantly after I had questioned myself the answer occurred to me and my heart was filled with sadness. I looked around the room examining the women nursing their babies, young men sitting closely to their wives, elderly men and women, and realized that every person present was infected with HIV/AIDS. I was heartbroken and for the first time I could honestly comprehend the seriousness of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Africa.
We’ve been busy this week training groups for the Sustainable Livelihood Initiative. Through this program FOC-REV provides funding for local community groups in hopes they will one day be able to sustain without their help. During the training sessions we discussed leadership roles, the proper manner to run a meeting and managing finances. The people in my group were extremely polite and made me feel comfortable. I introduced myself as Nafula Austin and they loved my efforts to be respectful of their culture. In Busia all people are given a local name in addition to their first name. My name, Nafula, means born during the rainy season. Although I wasn’t actually born during the rainy season, my Mother loves the rain and I decided if she had to choose a name for me it would be Nafula. At the conclusion of the sessions we handed out manuals containing all of the information we had discussed throughout the week. The participants seemed appreciative and hopefully they will take heed to what we discussed and become very successful. Before we leave we plan to visit the participants during one of their meetings to check on their progress. I’m excited about what next week entails.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Muliyo mutye!!

We have already reached week three in our stay in Uganda! When I say that, I cannot believe how amazingly quickly time has passed – but at the same time it feels it has been ages since I said my goodbyes at the airport in NC.

Throughout our first week in Kampala we experienced many things: Amazing nationalism at an intense Uganda vs. Nigeria football (or soccer, as Americans like to refer to it) game, traditional Ugandan cuisine, and incredibly hospitable Ugandans.

…But we also learned about some sad realities that are present here…

The nationalism we saw and felt is unfortunately quite rare. The 65+ different ethnicities that exist within the borders of “Uganda” don’t in fact generally feel “Ugandan”. A formation was established in 1894 when British colonizers decided to draw an imaginary line around what we now know as Uganda. This did not, however, automatically make everyone residing within those lines transform into one uniform nationality. Although English was declared the ‘official language’, more than 30 languages are still spoken by the people living inside of these national lines. Despite our efforts to learn a little bit of Lugandan, one of the most commonly spoken languages in Uganda, it was difficult to even know if the mutterings we heard all around were actually Lugandan or actually Lusamia, Kiswahili, or Lusoga. Everyone here knows at least three or four languages, a must in order to simply communicate with others of their own nationality. Some people were surprised by the nationalism shown on the day of this game, while some people joined in (and got especially excited when they saw mzungus, or foreigners, supporting them with a Ugandan jersey, as I and another AGRADU member were doing). Others thought this display of nationalism was ridiculous and told us that “Ugandans” never show it because they don’t actually feel it. It fascinates me how something as ‘simple’ as football can really bring together an entire nation of people, despite all of the extreme differences that exist amongst them.

Another thing we learned is how “Ugandan cuisine” is actually quite a nice term for what is in fact a plate-full of starch. I never knew it came in so many forms: sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, rice, yams, pumpkin, squashed bananas (matooke), corn meal (posho) and bread. You then dip your choice of starch into some sort of sauce: beans, groundnuts, fish, beef or chicken stew. Although it is taking some effort to get used to eating the same thing for every meal, I am really starting to enjoy it (especially when our hotel manager cooks and actually puts spice into the food)! My main concern, however, is the nutrition of these staple foods that are everything that people eat here. Many Ugandans believe that fruit is only for children, so adults stay away from it and therefore do not have a healthy diet. You finish every meal with the sensation of being extremely weighed down by all of the heavy starch, while not really receiving what is necessary for your body. This diet is especially a problem for those who are HIV-infected, for because they become weaker without the right food. Thankfully, however, there are groups such as FOC-REV that are trying to communicate the necessity for good nutrition to people in their communities!

We experienced hospitality at one of Vesall’s Ugandan friend’s house. We were all invited to a delicious lunch at Billy’s, after which we extended our invitation late into the night while watching almost an entire series of Prison Break (it is always interesting to see what shows become popular outside of the United States…). His house was beautiful, spacious and clean – a huge contrast from a large portion of others living in Kampala and elsewhere throughout the country. While many people do in fact live in concrete or brick homes, there are many who still live in mud houses with grass-thatched roofs. It is interesting to experience how development has affected various areas of the country differently.

Our week in Kampala ended with us anxious and scared about arriving at our CBO sites. Busia Town is about a three and a half hour drive from Kampala. After the worry of our tremendous amounts of luggage not fitting into the matatu that was to bring us to Busia, we made it safely all the way to the border of Kenya! It was quite an experience to get out of the van and be immediately surrounded by people trying to sell things, exchange our money, help carry our bags or simply stare at the weird foreigners that just arrived in their town. Sheddy, the program director, came to our rescue and took us back to the FOC-REV headquarters where we met the rest of the team. To our surprise, a Peace Corps member was stationed at FOC-REV and it turns out that she is a UNC-Chapel Hill graduate! It never ceases to amaze me how small this world really is…!

We jumped right into work the following day by going to a Youth Meeting where a video was shown to some students in the OVC Program (Orphans and Vulnerable Children), after which we did a question and answer section and then had some one-on-one interaction with them. It was a wonderful experience to get to talk to these students and attempt to get a look into what life is like for many people here in Uganda. It is definitely very complicated but they are so full of motivation and hope that it was moving. After the serious talks, the students taught us how to play net ball, and despite the language barrier we all laughed together and had a great time!

Our first week at work took us to various villages around the Bugiri district, interviewing people and determining beneficiaries for a Sustainable Livelihood Program that just received funding. Again, I thought that language was going to be a huge barrier (they speak Lusamia in this part of the country), but the few people that spoke English were very helpful in being translators for others in their village who could not understand us. Not only was it a wonderful interaction with the local people, but it also gave us the chance to see some amazing landscapes in Uganda – some days it took over 2 hours to get to the sites because of the condition of the dirt roads! The red dirt contrasts beautifully with the brilliantly green grass and tress. We drove by Lake Victoria, through rice fields, and past many different homesteads with people walking down the roads on the way to school, the market or to a water pump.

Everyone at FOC-REV is extremely kind and helpful! I have already had some very interesting and deep conversations about differences in religion, beliefs about marriage and behaviours manifested differently in our two cultures. People are very open, interested, and they love to laugh! Sometimes patience is required because things are not as organized and scheduled as they are in the United States, but I try to take the idle time getting to know our co-workers or read the newspaper to keep up with current events occurring here around us.

Exploring the town during our free time has proved quite fun. The kids are extremely cute, always yelling “mzungu!!!” as we walk by, the brave ones running up to shake our hand. The music is great and everybody loves to dance (a couple of girls were trying to teach me today, but I definitely need some more practice)! I have already received a couple of requests from people asking to go back with us to the United States, but for now I think they can see how happy we are to be here in this wonderful country experiencing what it is like to work with a CBO in Uganda. I am sad that we only have a month left but am very excited to see what these next few weeks have in store for us!

Monday, June 18, 2007

Name, Please?

Names are revealing. Take mine: Andrew. In the States, it consistently ranks as one of the top 10 baby boy names every year. In the Land of Bibles and Saints, it conjures up the twelve disciples and stories of fish. And in Uganda, it is a name easy to understand if and only if said in the British way. Awwwndrew…as if coming out after one big yawn. Whenever greeting people (many of whom have little to no mastery of English), I look like the one learning my name (and English) for the first time. Gone is the familiar short “a” at the beginning of the name I have grounded into my center for twenty years. Instead, I am left with an awkward introduction of broken English (usually on my account) and weak translation (again, my bad).

Even when I am not stammering out Awwwndrew, the issue of my name is hardly at rest. There’s my Ugandan name: Bwire. But the fact that I can’t quite link the “b” and the “w” together pretty much leads to confusion of Awwwndrew proportions. The only name that I have even begun to master really isn’t mine at all. Or at least mine alone. Mzungu. The Ugandan word for “white person” or “foreigner.” It is the name the local kids call out whenever I walk into Busia town, take out my camera for a “snap,” or pass by in a matatu on any and every dusty Ugandan road.

Of course, names aren’t just the nuts and bolts of greetings. They are the windows into personalities, gateways into relationships, and trapdoors hiding emotional worlds. My name – Awwwndrew Bwire Mzungu Daub – means much more than the baby name dictionary’s definition of “strong” and “manly.” It carries more weight than any baby name book or Bible. Here in Uganda, it means answers. Help. Hope.

Uganda is a wonderful country. A land of perpetual friendliness with the charm and inner workings of a truly Southern town. Sweetened but not iced, tea has its time here. Rocking chairs and porches though rare, people sit outside looking at passerby. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone’s business is hung out to dry along with the day’s washing. But Uganda is also a country stuck. Stuck, stuck, stuck. Many things fall here. The schilling to the dollar. The livestock and crops to disease. The people to fatal epidemics. The nation to terrorizing, paralyzing Western clutches.

So there is reason to have answers. To help and to hope. And there is sense behind why a name like Awwwndrew Bwire Mzungu Daub is instantly attractive. It is a Godsend for some, a sense of relief for many. And though humbling it is to have people rush to my side and treat me with such genuine admiration, there is considerable expectation. And pressure. With a name carrying so much possibility, there also comes the heavy baggage of producing this answer, that answer, some help, such glowing hope. That baggage becomes even more overwhelming when all that rushes through my head is an I-don’t-know-where-to-even-begin stream of consciousness. How do I grapple with such demanding responsibility, responsibility that came into my lap when I – however poorly – uttered my name?

Yes, names are revealing. But they do not just expose the person inside. They open up questions, fears, and harsh todays. They imply solutions and better tomorrows. However, no band-aid, no recovery, and no future can rest in just a name. Answers, help, and hope are too complicated of recipes for a name to be the sole ingredient. I don’t know where to begin and that is the only beginning I know. It is the only way I can move beyond my struggles to get Awwwndrew Bwire Mzungu Daub out of my mouth. The only way to then build and build the living-breathing-feeling search for answers, help, and hope. The only way to keep my Ugandan conversations flowing.

Friday, June 15, 2007

CETRUD



Hi everyone. We've left Kampala (although this photo is a photo of the group in Kampala with a friend of mine. I thought maybe some people would like to see it), and I'm in Kasese, a city on the western border of Uganda (near Congo), and I've started working at the CBO, Center for Environmental Technology and Rural Development (CETRUD). Everything here is quite laid back and there is no schedule here that compares to the type of work schedule we expect in the U.S. To put it simply, you work when you have work to do and you relax when you don't.

That said, there's a couple of projects that I'm working on. The first is that I'm updating the CETRUD website, but this will take a while to complete. I'm not too familiar with the website interface, so I'm trying to get a good grasp of it before I make any real changes.

The second project is a project I'm more excited about. They have asked me to set up a microlending program for the farmers in the nearby village that CETRUD works with. I have read a good deal on savings programs and microlending, but I've never actually thought of establishing one myself.

So, I'm finding myself reading up on different case studies (some in Uganda) and asking various people that work and do research in the microlending field about different methods that have been most successful. I've found that the most successful microloan programs are organically initiated groups of people that lend to themselves. How do they lend to themselves? By saving money over a period of time (30 people contribue 1$ a week for four weeks), and then lending the money to a group member to use to buy capital for their business.

I had a conversation with the leader of a group of women here that has a business catered around making clothes. This group has applied for numerous loans from the local microlending bank, but the interest rates and the return deposits are too much and too frequent for them to be benefiting from any of the profits of their work. I suggested that instead of making a saving deposit with the bank (that the bank can take if they default on their loan), they could save money within the group for about 2 months and they would have the same amount of resources to lend money to themselves. She was very excited about the idea and she said that she was going to her group right away to discuss with them this idea. This likewise made me excited!

I had a conversation with a Kenyan man who is staying at the CETRUD compound (see picture), who just happens to be a microfinance expert who works with over 1,000 coffee farmers in the region. He says, "the difference between you and a peasant is that you are able to save money. If they knew the benefits of saving, they would not have the problems they have today." I've learned that the fundamental purpose of microlending is to train people about the importance of saving money in order to eventually earn an income. Tomorrow, I will be going to the village near Kasese to talk to various groups about savings options in their village (via savings groups, microlending, etc.). I'm excited to hear what they have to say! I'll keep you posted. Where are the other AGRADU interns?

Finally, a picture of me with Godfrey, the executive director of CETRUD.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

In Kampala

Hey everybody. All of us are in Kampala right now and we've done a number of pretty fun and exciting things. Probably the most exciting day so far was Sandra, Austin, and Andrew's second day, the day of the Nigeria vs. Uganda FIFA Africa's cup qualifier match. Everything about it was exciting:
- Sandra and Danika wore Uganda jerseys, and caused everybody to stare at us all afternoon (in a really fun and friendly way... as if to say "thank you for supporting Uganda!")
- The taxi driver had to lie his way around police officers by saying that he picked us up from the U.S. embassy. We were running a bit late to the game.
- Uganda won the match... starting riots because it was the first time they won against Nigeria in any international competition.

Simply put, it was an amazing day.

On Sunday we visited the Baha'i temple and the Ndere cultural center. This was a lot of fun as well, but I'll let the other interns tell you about these experiences personally. I'll just post a couple pictures for fun.



In the meantime, we're all anxious to leave Kampala so that we can go serve at our internship sites. We'll keep you posted as much as we can! There's not too much internet access in Uganda. Thanks for reading!