I've started to run with the UCU team and am regretting not running with them earlier. They are fast! One guy is sub 4 minute mile. So pretty much I run with the girls and still get owned. I should be running some meets soon, which will be hilarious. Apparently when a white man runs everyone expects them to be last so they cheer for him/her out of pity. The guys are a hoot! They complain through all of the work out and then, when they hear they are almost done, they run like they haven't been pushed at all. They pray after each run, holding hands in a circle. It's sad that I'm falling in love with running only to drop it in a month.
So I was talking to my dad about North Korea's "unprovoked" shelling of that South Korean island. He corrected me. Apparently when you look at Chinese newspapers (in English) they say that North Korea had sent a manifesto to the world saying that they would not tolerate other nations entering their waters, and would treat such as an invasion. Turns out American missiles landed in their boundaries and they held true to their promise. Moral of the story: read both sides of the argument before forming a conclusion.
Recently I've been applying this with Libya, reading an Arab newspaper named Al Jezeera. It's so interesting! Reading it suddenly makes the conflict extremely complex, bringing up so many new arguments than you get from CNN/FOX/NBC.
My video/website is hobbling along. I'm finding that I was not made to work on a computer. My stamina is straight-up embarrassing.
Great news! Ugandan elders usually serve as local missionaries for the months that they would be waiting for their visas. I might get to do that! How awesome is that. I would serve for a few months (with a tag and everything) until I got my visa for Brazil, and then go to Sao Paulo. I'm definitely banking on this option.
Other than that, life is same old, same old. Our fam is heading to Murchison Falls today for a 3 day safari. Personally, I like the deficiency zoos, but since your in Africa apparently you need to go on one. Should have some fun stories from that soon!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
March 18th
I have been thinking about writing "advice" letters to each of my siblings before I head for Brazil/USA. You know, personal advice on what to stay away from and what to cling on too. Suddenly it hit me. The example I set in the next month a week will be way more influential than anything I could write in a letter. In a way, my actions are my advice letter. As I was thinking about what I would advise my siblings on if I wrote the letters, I realized that each of the weaknesses I would have harped on could be found in me, the perfect example of "casting out the beam in your own eye..." or of "he who hath no sin, let him cast the first stone..." in the NT. I think that's fascinating. It's so easy to get sidetracked perfecting others, without working towards perfection ourselves. I feel like if you are striving to be better, your example is your most powerful tool in helping others come unto Christ.
I had an EPIC day today. Our family went to the kids' school in Kampala for an international day. The festivities commenced with a parade of nations similar to that of the Olympics. The kids were decked out in traditional clothing from their homeland with plenty of face paint and flags. Then the students went around visiting tents that offered food, arts/crafts, sports, and decorations from each continent. Dad, Mom, and I volunteered in the America's tent, which, as you can imagine, was by far the most boring tent. Volunteering was so cool! After seeing these kids put on a display of the love they each had (or their parents had) for their countries, it was so interesting seeing them play and interact with each other afterward. You had Jews, Muslims, Christians, Hindus, and even a Sikh playing games together happily. I am convinced that if every kid in the world had the opportunity to attend a school like the one where my siblings are currently studying, world peace wouldn't just be a possibility, it would be all but guaranteed. Behind all of the different shades of skin and body builds, all of the variance in world languages and customs, all of the contrasting religious beliefs, we are all the same: sons and daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us completely and individually. Oh my gosh that is beautiful.
And yet, inside this paradise of blended ethnicity were the signs of racial injustice. A maintenance worker was quick to inform me of his monthly wage: less than 6 bucks, without meals. The successful, money-loving Indian who owns the school is known for such abuse of jobless Ugandans. And I'm sure you can guess the nationality all of the high end administrators. Indian.
Talking to that maintenance worker was quite frustrating. I told him he had the potential to be rich. He told me it was impossible. After outlining a few ways he could increase his capital with no help from me, I realized his response was always the same: "you don't understand, I just need a 20,000 shillings to get started." Although I completely agree that I don't understand what he is facing, I do understand what studies have shown about giving out 20,000 shillings "to get started." Friends have urgent medical bills, widowed family members have mouths to feed, money gets stolen, and soon that man is right back where he started. I know that there is a way to work your way out of poverty. A few days ago I watched a man cut up a jackfruit that he probably bought for around 30 cents in the village and sell the 20ish pieces for 16 cents each in town. In other words that guy made 1066% profit on walking his jackfruit 12 kilometers. I've watched a lady from the church raise a few chicks and their offspring on and on until she has built up a small-scale chicken farm.
The more I look for ways to fight poverty, the more I realize that it is so much more than a severe lack of money. It's a way of life. A way of life that has become ingrained and perpetuated from generation to generation. When the Perpetual Education Fund holds meetings pleading for it's loans to be used wisely, they are fighting against years of habituation to this "poverty culture." The same goes for NGO's across the globe.
Now I'm not trying to sound like all 3rd world nations are doomed to eternal impoverishment, because they are not. It was not very long ago that the whole of this world was what we now call third-world, but look where we are today. Countries like Brazil have jumped out poverty to lead worldwide economics. Even within Uganda you hear inspiring success stories of individuals who break out of generational poverty to achieve financial stability. There is a way for Ugandans to become self-sufficient; I have seen it. I'm simply saying that this process is an uphill battle.
On a lighter note here are some humorous stories:
We are employing a wardie who is trying to pay for his mission visa so he can turn in his papers. We have plenty of work to do cleaning up the small garden/banana orchard on our property, a place that was the landfill of the previous owners. Anyway this guy was telling me that he was reading 3rd Nephi 8ish all about the natural disasters faced by the Nephites when, terrified, he felt his bed shake back and forth. Turns out Mukono had a 5.6 earthquake that morning.
I was reading C.S. Lewis when a lady told me I should come donate blood. Interested, I went to check out their set up. They had a tent in the middle of the university commons with 3 beds, a desk, and some chairs. The nurse in charge would yell "jangu jangu (come, come)" to passers by and then, without asking if they wanted to donate, she would start the screening process. After customary greetings, she asked if they felt well and when they last had malaria (had to be malaria free for more than a month), she tested iron levels, and soon they were on a bed giving blood. Sometimes she would ask if they had ever donated before, but that was the extent of the procedure. No privacy shields, awkward questions, blood pressure, or signatures. Two questions, a few drops of blood, and you were ready to go.
Our family doesn't have a keyboard, so one day I thought I would try playing in the Anglican chapel on campus. As I walked in I heard a low rumbling noise. Thinking there was either a small riot or an idling tractor outside the window, I sat down at the piano. The noise was the groaning from two girls who were grasping each other in obvious agony, rocking back and forth. Trying hard to ignore their interesting behavior, I starting playing "Be Still My Soul." All of the sudden I hear, "Wakukuadkukduaku" at a high shriek coming from the girls next to me. I jumped. I had no idea what was happening. There was no way that that was a language. A little bit intimidated I left the chapel. Turns out that was my first face to face encounter with people speaking in tongues. It is weird! And what is weirder is how common it is. Without looking for them, I've seen about six congregations who seem to talk nearly exclusively in tongues ON CAMPUS! What? This is an Anglican school. I need to get an Anglicans view on speaking in tongues, cause I'm pretty sure they would think it was weird.
Man I am absolutely digging the language, if you haven't caught that drift from previous posts. I've pretty much given up with their grammar, but love how simple everything else is. The word for flying is the same as jumping, surgery is the same as cleaning, white blood cell is the same as soldier, to study/learn is the same as reading, hear is the same as taste... the list goes on and on. My favorite word is "kale." I never thought four letters could mean so much. Here's my translation: "you're welcome" or "yes/ok" or "It's been fun talking, but I'm ready to go. Goodbye." (they never use the actual word for goodbye). I have a friend who is learning a language from the north east which is comprised almost entirely of 3 letter words with an average of 5 completely unrelated meanings.
Really excited about the the less actives work we are doing. This ward is about to get a lot bigger baby!
I had an EPIC day today. Our family went to the kids' school in Kampala for an international day. The festivities commenced with a parade of nations similar to that of the Olympics. The kids were decked out in traditional clothing from their homeland with plenty of face paint and flags. Then the students went around visiting tents that offered food, arts/crafts, sports, and decorations from each continent. Dad, Mom, and I volunteered in the America's tent, which, as you can imagine, was by far the most boring tent. Volunteering was so cool! After seeing these kids put on a display of the love they each had (or their parents had) for their countries, it was so interesting seeing them play and interact with each other afterward. You had Jews, Muslims, Christians, Hindus, and even a Sikh playing games together happily. I am convinced that if every kid in the world had the opportunity to attend a school like the one where my siblings are currently studying, world peace wouldn't just be a possibility, it would be all but guaranteed. Behind all of the different shades of skin and body builds, all of the variance in world languages and customs, all of the contrasting religious beliefs, we are all the same: sons and daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us completely and individually. Oh my gosh that is beautiful.
And yet, inside this paradise of blended ethnicity were the signs of racial injustice. A maintenance worker was quick to inform me of his monthly wage: less than 6 bucks, without meals. The successful, money-loving Indian who owns the school is known for such abuse of jobless Ugandans. And I'm sure you can guess the nationality all of the high end administrators. Indian.
Talking to that maintenance worker was quite frustrating. I told him he had the potential to be rich. He told me it was impossible. After outlining a few ways he could increase his capital with no help from me, I realized his response was always the same: "you don't understand, I just need a 20,000 shillings to get started." Although I completely agree that I don't understand what he is facing, I do understand what studies have shown about giving out 20,000 shillings "to get started." Friends have urgent medical bills, widowed family members have mouths to feed, money gets stolen, and soon that man is right back where he started. I know that there is a way to work your way out of poverty. A few days ago I watched a man cut up a jackfruit that he probably bought for around 30 cents in the village and sell the 20ish pieces for 16 cents each in town. In other words that guy made 1066% profit on walking his jackfruit 12 kilometers. I've watched a lady from the church raise a few chicks and their offspring on and on until she has built up a small-scale chicken farm.
The more I look for ways to fight poverty, the more I realize that it is so much more than a severe lack of money. It's a way of life. A way of life that has become ingrained and perpetuated from generation to generation. When the Perpetual Education Fund holds meetings pleading for it's loans to be used wisely, they are fighting against years of habituation to this "poverty culture." The same goes for NGO's across the globe.
Now I'm not trying to sound like all 3rd world nations are doomed to eternal impoverishment, because they are not. It was not very long ago that the whole of this world was what we now call third-world, but look where we are today. Countries like Brazil have jumped out poverty to lead worldwide economics. Even within Uganda you hear inspiring success stories of individuals who break out of generational poverty to achieve financial stability. There is a way for Ugandans to become self-sufficient; I have seen it. I'm simply saying that this process is an uphill battle.
On a lighter note here are some humorous stories:
We are employing a wardie who is trying to pay for his mission visa so he can turn in his papers. We have plenty of work to do cleaning up the small garden/banana orchard on our property, a place that was the landfill of the previous owners. Anyway this guy was telling me that he was reading 3rd Nephi 8ish all about the natural disasters faced by the Nephites when, terrified, he felt his bed shake back and forth. Turns out Mukono had a 5.6 earthquake that morning.
I was reading C.S. Lewis when a lady told me I should come donate blood. Interested, I went to check out their set up. They had a tent in the middle of the university commons with 3 beds, a desk, and some chairs. The nurse in charge would yell "jangu jangu (come, come)" to passers by and then, without asking if they wanted to donate, she would start the screening process. After customary greetings, she asked if they felt well and when they last had malaria (had to be malaria free for more than a month), she tested iron levels, and soon they were on a bed giving blood. Sometimes she would ask if they had ever donated before, but that was the extent of the procedure. No privacy shields, awkward questions, blood pressure, or signatures. Two questions, a few drops of blood, and you were ready to go.
Our family doesn't have a keyboard, so one day I thought I would try playing in the Anglican chapel on campus. As I walked in I heard a low rumbling noise. Thinking there was either a small riot or an idling tractor outside the window, I sat down at the piano. The noise was the groaning from two girls who were grasping each other in obvious agony, rocking back and forth. Trying hard to ignore their interesting behavior, I starting playing "Be Still My Soul." All of the sudden I hear, "Wakukuadkukduaku" at a high shriek coming from the girls next to me. I jumped. I had no idea what was happening. There was no way that that was a language. A little bit intimidated I left the chapel. Turns out that was my first face to face encounter with people speaking in tongues. It is weird! And what is weirder is how common it is. Without looking for them, I've seen about six congregations who seem to talk nearly exclusively in tongues ON CAMPUS! What? This is an Anglican school. I need to get an Anglicans view on speaking in tongues, cause I'm pretty sure they would think it was weird.
Man I am absolutely digging the language, if you haven't caught that drift from previous posts. I've pretty much given up with their grammar, but love how simple everything else is. The word for flying is the same as jumping, surgery is the same as cleaning, white blood cell is the same as soldier, to study/learn is the same as reading, hear is the same as taste... the list goes on and on. My favorite word is "kale." I never thought four letters could mean so much. Here's my translation: "you're welcome" or "yes/ok" or "It's been fun talking, but I'm ready to go. Goodbye." (they never use the actual word for goodbye). I have a friend who is learning a language from the north east which is comprised almost entirely of 3 letter words with an average of 5 completely unrelated meanings.
Really excited about the the less actives work we are doing. This ward is about to get a lot bigger baby!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
March 16th
It's funny. You come to a third world nation and people want to make use of your technical skills; you end up spending lots of time on a computer.
Our family is doing swell. The kids are adjusting to their international school. Cariel took a tally, counting the number of swear words she heard her first day of school. It was something like 200 more than she would have liked it. Liza made a heroic stand against a teacher showing a sketchy movie. However, Mckay is digging his Thursday schedule: art, cooking, swimming, and a club. The US government is paying 25 grand (sorry for the tax money everybody!) for our family to attend this school for 4 months, so you better believe the kids there are extremely rich. However it's amazingly diverse. Sixty different nations represented in a high school of about that many students. I'm excited to volunteer there on Monday because apparently the campus is absolutely breath-taking.
Yesterday we had a farewell party for Douglas Kagame, who is heading to serve as a local missionary in Iganga. Here the church has people who are waiting on passports/visas serve in the Kampala mission. We made our attempt at Ugandan food, which was pretty successful. Mom was pretty skeptical of the meat we bought on the side of the road, but the wardies assured it was safe. Anyway, the guy shared his powerful testimony of the gospel. We sang some God Be With You Till We Meet Again. The sad thing was that for me that won't be for a while. Anyway, I was ready to hit Brazil right then and there. That visa...
I have loved C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. I love the way he weaves analogies into deep theology. It reminds me an old book on teaching by Packer I read recently. That's what I want to master! Teaching with analogies. One time I was teaching this girl with the missionaries and I told her than many pure and simply truths in the Bible were lost through it's many translations. I tried to explain that it was like pure water which is contaminated by the views of others. Let's just say that didn't go over well.
One quote I liked from the book:
"You cannot make men good by the law: and without good men you cannot have a good society."
I have been playing a lot of tennis lately and have officially decided it's a great sport. The university has two packed sand courts that make for some interesting bounces every once in a while. My dad's going down tomorrow.
My mom wants the computer right now so I'm closing this semi-pointless post. Lots to look forward too! Brazi here I come!
Our family is doing swell. The kids are adjusting to their international school. Cariel took a tally, counting the number of swear words she heard her first day of school. It was something like 200 more than she would have liked it. Liza made a heroic stand against a teacher showing a sketchy movie. However, Mckay is digging his Thursday schedule: art, cooking, swimming, and a club. The US government is paying 25 grand (sorry for the tax money everybody!) for our family to attend this school for 4 months, so you better believe the kids there are extremely rich. However it's amazingly diverse. Sixty different nations represented in a high school of about that many students. I'm excited to volunteer there on Monday because apparently the campus is absolutely breath-taking.
Yesterday we had a farewell party for Douglas Kagame, who is heading to serve as a local missionary in Iganga. Here the church has people who are waiting on passports/visas serve in the Kampala mission. We made our attempt at Ugandan food, which was pretty successful. Mom was pretty skeptical of the meat we bought on the side of the road, but the wardies assured it was safe. Anyway, the guy shared his powerful testimony of the gospel. We sang some God Be With You Till We Meet Again. The sad thing was that for me that won't be for a while. Anyway, I was ready to hit Brazil right then and there. That visa...
I have loved C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. I love the way he weaves analogies into deep theology. It reminds me an old book on teaching by Packer I read recently. That's what I want to master! Teaching with analogies. One time I was teaching this girl with the missionaries and I told her than many pure and simply truths in the Bible were lost through it's many translations. I tried to explain that it was like pure water which is contaminated by the views of others. Let's just say that didn't go over well.
One quote I liked from the book:
"You cannot make men good by the law: and without good men you cannot have a good society."
I have been playing a lot of tennis lately and have officially decided it's a great sport. The university has two packed sand courts that make for some interesting bounces every once in a while. My dad's going down tomorrow.
My mom wants the computer right now so I'm closing this semi-pointless post. Lots to look forward too! Brazi here I come!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
March 11th (continued)
I love Ugandan food! They eat sweet potatoes, maatoke (plantains served like mashed potatoes), posho (ground maize with water), rice, and beans. It is dirt cheap and amazingly filling. I think it's around forty cents for more than most Bazungu can eat. Unfortunately, I need to order two plates to become satisfied, straining our family finances an extra forty cents. Interestingly enough, I am the only Mzungu I have met to like the food. It is a little bit tasteless.
Today I ate at a friend's house. They didn't have forks (most people don't) we used our hands. I ignorantly dived in with both hands, thinking that it would be more efficient. The guy sitting next to me was quick to correct me. You only use your right hand for reasons I would will not delve into.
R's and L's sound exactly the same in Ugandan English. One guy was asking me questions about American food:
"Do you fly your chickens?"
"Nope our chickens don't fly."
"No no no. Do you fly your chickens. Like in oil."
You think that's funny, listen to this:
As you can imagine, the port you use to reach Buvuma doesn't have piers, so men carry passengers 30ish feet out to the boat. You pay these guys 9 cents to keep you and your belongings dry. Since jobs are scarce, many many people try to make a living off this occupation. This leads to people fighting over customers. Needless to say I had no idea about this procedure. As we came to the waters edge I was making small talk with someone when all of the sudden I felt something hard bang repeatedly against the back of my thighs. I looked down to see a guy trying to get me on his shoulders. You better believe that was awkward.
There are some amazing Christians here on campus. One man I admire has this avid love of learning. The walls of his home are completely covered with bookshelves, and by the way he talks you know he puts them to good use. You feel like you are absorbing intelligence whenever you are within 5 feet of him. Coolest part? He's a humble, God fearing man who values his wife and his two kids. Very inspiring. I am also falling in love with our Anglican neighbors. They are the ultimate examples of how to have a strong family. They love their children know how to influence them without negativity. Christ is the center of their home. It's amazing how many beliefs we share. We talked religion for a while and didn't find any disagreements.
Hey so it turns out I'm probably not going to get to shadow an OBGYN. The lady is super busy and wants me to edit a movie for her. I'm slightly devastated. I'm currently hoping I can convince my dad to let me help with VCT programs (testing for HIV). He thinks the risk of accidentally sticking myself is too high. Anyway, I just wish it was easier to get into more clinical service here as a Medical Assistant.
To Patricia:
At home my Mom has been rotating pasta, pizza, and powdered soup. Our family is still adjusting to not having a dishwasher, something that makes chores a lot harder. My mom doesn't have the crutch of frozen foods so she has been spending a lot of time cooking.
Women breastfeed openly. You should have seen Liza's face when a family friend started breastfeeding her son in the middle of a conversation on our couch. Apparently HIV has a 25% transmission rate through breast milk if the mother isn't on the antivirals. However, from what I have seen people can't afford to not breastfeed, so formula isn't an option.
As for me, culture shock really wasn't an issue when I came in August. I think Mckay struggled a little with kids staring at his white skin and being a little more outgoing than he is naturally. Now he is doing fine. As for the rest of the family, I thought their transition this trip went quite smooth. Cariel has had some problems with wardies hitting on her (who are in their mid 20's). Sometimes I think my mom is a little bit loud for the culture, but to be quite honest everyone loves her. People come and talk to her for hours in our living room.
We regularly have monkeys in both our front and backyard. Usually they are the red-tailed ones that are a little bigger than squirrels, but every once in a while we get columbus monkeys (spelling?), who are probably comparable to a medium-sized dog. It is so much fun to sit on our porch and watch them leap between the trees. Squirrels, lizards, and our neighbors chickens show up as well.
PEF is definitely in Uganda, however it definitely has it's fair share of problems. The PEF missionary couple is struggling to get people to pay back their loans and use the money they get for their education. Once you have money, there is an ingrained sense of duty to help everyone else in your neighborhood. Rest assured though, the church is working extremely hard to make the program successful. I don't know about the rest of the world, but here PEF loans are only given to active RM's. Unfortunately, I heard a guy in our ward try to convince an investigator that if he joined the church and served a full-time mission he would get his university tuition paid in full. I'm going to have to talk to that guy tomorrow, cause that's a really bad way to get people to church. I personally love the entrepreneurial brainstorming classes they hold every week. Uganda definitely needs more of that. In the words of a friend, "Uganda is a country full of job seekers, with few job creators."
On ways to support. Using snail mail is unreliable and slow. We are thinking about sending a 20x8 ft. box filled with meds in the summer but are still working that one out. If that falls through and you still want to donate, I have found a few NGO's that I trust. I have a strong belief that the LDS church teaches a lot if not all of the skills necessary to rise out of poverty, so supporting/praying for missionaries is great as well.
Today I ate at a friend's house. They didn't have forks (most people don't) we used our hands. I ignorantly dived in with both hands, thinking that it would be more efficient. The guy sitting next to me was quick to correct me. You only use your right hand for reasons I would will not delve into.
R's and L's sound exactly the same in Ugandan English. One guy was asking me questions about American food:
"Do you fly your chickens?"
"Nope our chickens don't fly."
"No no no. Do you fly your chickens. Like in oil."
You think that's funny, listen to this:
As you can imagine, the port you use to reach Buvuma doesn't have piers, so men carry passengers 30ish feet out to the boat. You pay these guys 9 cents to keep you and your belongings dry. Since jobs are scarce, many many people try to make a living off this occupation. This leads to people fighting over customers. Needless to say I had no idea about this procedure. As we came to the waters edge I was making small talk with someone when all of the sudden I felt something hard bang repeatedly against the back of my thighs. I looked down to see a guy trying to get me on his shoulders. You better believe that was awkward.
There are some amazing Christians here on campus. One man I admire has this avid love of learning. The walls of his home are completely covered with bookshelves, and by the way he talks you know he puts them to good use. You feel like you are absorbing intelligence whenever you are within 5 feet of him. Coolest part? He's a humble, God fearing man who values his wife and his two kids. Very inspiring. I am also falling in love with our Anglican neighbors. They are the ultimate examples of how to have a strong family. They love their children know how to influence them without negativity. Christ is the center of their home. It's amazing how many beliefs we share. We talked religion for a while and didn't find any disagreements.
Hey so it turns out I'm probably not going to get to shadow an OBGYN. The lady is super busy and wants me to edit a movie for her. I'm slightly devastated. I'm currently hoping I can convince my dad to let me help with VCT programs (testing for HIV). He thinks the risk of accidentally sticking myself is too high. Anyway, I just wish it was easier to get into more clinical service here as a Medical Assistant.
To Patricia:
At home my Mom has been rotating pasta, pizza, and powdered soup. Our family is still adjusting to not having a dishwasher, something that makes chores a lot harder. My mom doesn't have the crutch of frozen foods so she has been spending a lot of time cooking.
Women breastfeed openly. You should have seen Liza's face when a family friend started breastfeeding her son in the middle of a conversation on our couch. Apparently HIV has a 25% transmission rate through breast milk if the mother isn't on the antivirals. However, from what I have seen people can't afford to not breastfeed, so formula isn't an option.
As for me, culture shock really wasn't an issue when I came in August. I think Mckay struggled a little with kids staring at his white skin and being a little more outgoing than he is naturally. Now he is doing fine. As for the rest of the family, I thought their transition this trip went quite smooth. Cariel has had some problems with wardies hitting on her (who are in their mid 20's). Sometimes I think my mom is a little bit loud for the culture, but to be quite honest everyone loves her. People come and talk to her for hours in our living room.
We regularly have monkeys in both our front and backyard. Usually they are the red-tailed ones that are a little bigger than squirrels, but every once in a while we get columbus monkeys (spelling?), who are probably comparable to a medium-sized dog. It is so much fun to sit on our porch and watch them leap between the trees. Squirrels, lizards, and our neighbors chickens show up as well.
PEF is definitely in Uganda, however it definitely has it's fair share of problems. The PEF missionary couple is struggling to get people to pay back their loans and use the money they get for their education. Once you have money, there is an ingrained sense of duty to help everyone else in your neighborhood. Rest assured though, the church is working extremely hard to make the program successful. I don't know about the rest of the world, but here PEF loans are only given to active RM's. Unfortunately, I heard a guy in our ward try to convince an investigator that if he joined the church and served a full-time mission he would get his university tuition paid in full. I'm going to have to talk to that guy tomorrow, cause that's a really bad way to get people to church. I personally love the entrepreneurial brainstorming classes they hold every week. Uganda definitely needs more of that. In the words of a friend, "Uganda is a country full of job seekers, with few job creators."
On ways to support. Using snail mail is unreliable and slow. We are thinking about sending a 20x8 ft. box filled with meds in the summer but are still working that one out. If that falls through and you still want to donate, I have found a few NGO's that I trust. I have a strong belief that the LDS church teaches a lot if not all of the skills necessary to rise out of poverty, so supporting/praying for missionaries is great as well.
March 11th
I just returned from a trip to the Buvuma islands in Lake Victoria. What an experience. It was like traveling back 100 years to an undeveloped Uganda.
The problem with these islands is that they are hard to reach and even harder to move around when you get there. The director told me that more than 70% of the money spent on the trip was used on gas for the motorcycles we used to travel around the spread out villages (gas is a little more than $6 a gallon here). Due to the high cost of transportation, the only humanitarian organization operating on these islands pulled out in 2007, leaving Buvuma in bad shape. ADUA is looking to fill this void. They are hoping to use my video to raise money.
Studies have shown that the Buvuma HIV rate is almost 30% higher than Uganda's mainland. The fishermen take long fishing trips and then celebrate their safe return with lots of drinking and prostitution. If someone scars their reputation by accusing them as HIV+, the fishermen simply move to a different village. The villages are mobile, searching for the fishing hot spots around the coast. Because of this, they don't invest in their villages, leaving malaria-ridden swamps undrained and latrines unbuilt. Nowadays illegal fishing (using nets with small wholes) and a high birth rate has nearly exhausted the lake. This is forcing people towards farming, an economy that has slowed to a near standstill due to the current drought. "What about irrigation?" I asked. "That's too much work," was the response. It seems like the fishing attitude has stuck with people as they have switched over to farming.
From what I saw, you could count on a few hands the number of houses with power (all government or catholic funded buildings) and I'm pretty sure there was no running water on the island. I am proud to say I took my first shower out of a bucket. I also watched our host family pick out a chicken for us to eat that night.
Teaching was a blast! We would hold village meetings teaching about AIDS, malaria, nutrition, and sanitation. The people were thirsty for knowledge. One old guy got up after our presentation to thank us. He said that never in his life someone come to teach in his village (I'm guessing he was 50). After one of our meetings, a man asked us: "So I've always wondered how fast AIDS travels through the air. Can you answer that?" Yeah it was bad. They don't have VCT so people don't even know their HIV status.
I had a super spiritual experience at our last stop teaching a catholic elementary school. I had been teaching malaria the whole trip, but suddenly felt like I needed to teach these kids about personal goals. I have no doubt that inspiration was God sent. That lesson was powerful. I probably learned more than anyone. I told them the future of their island rested on their goals and ambitions. I definitely felt the spirit strongly.
I have learned a lot about humanitarian aid. I would like to compare successful HA to the parable of the talents found in the 25th chapter of Matthew. The master in this story gave and then followed up with rewards to those who utilized his gifts. I have found that many NGO's throw money at people and forget to follow up. Evidence of this is everywhere. One school we visited had two buildings with leaky roofs. Instead of repairing them, they found it easier to get funding for a whole new building. You better believe I was disgusted.
You also need to make sure that people are making sacrifices for your help. This forces them to take ownership. I would love to see more NGO's focus on teaching creative entrepreneurial skills rather than the amount of money or services they dole out. One campaign slogan that was sounded by many canidates in the recent elections was "Better service delivery." What does that mean? You'll get more free stuff if you vote for me. Yeah it's not good at all.
It was frustrating how slow the people are. In America we probably could have accomplished 3x as much work. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner each takes an hour. Each town had to give us a long winded welcome and were slow to organize. One day one of our social workers felt tired so we went home 3 hours early. It just makes you want to make your own NGO.
A hardcore feminist would have probably died seeing the way the women greet men on the islands. Whenever a man walks past they kneel down and wait to be acknowledged while looking at the ground. Even the little girls (three or four) follow this tradition.
I wish I could have filmed the way the islanders greeted! It was almost comical! They would usually shake right hands while using their left hand to hold their right elbow as a sign of respect. Then a hardcore Q/A session would commence, with the just about same questions and answers used everytime. Responses to questions would start nearly before the person asking finished talking. People talked in high-pitched mumble, almost whispering. They mumbled so quietly for a while I had no idea what they were saying. The whole time both people avoid eye contact. The following dialogue is almost the same for every the meeting between two men (in Luganda of course):
"How are you, sir"
"I'm fine, sir"
"How did you sleep, sir"
"I was fine, sir"
"How is your food sir"
"I am fine, sir. How are you, sir"
"I am fine, sir."
"How did you sleep, sir?"
"I was fine, sir."
"Good for you, sir"
"Also good for you sir. OK sir"
"Ok"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
...
The sighs at the end were hilarious! They would go on and on until someone thought of some substantial thing to talk about.
And that's only a fraction of what I need to write about this last week. Get back to this soon.
The problem with these islands is that they are hard to reach and even harder to move around when you get there. The director told me that more than 70% of the money spent on the trip was used on gas for the motorcycles we used to travel around the spread out villages (gas is a little more than $6 a gallon here). Due to the high cost of transportation, the only humanitarian organization operating on these islands pulled out in 2007, leaving Buvuma in bad shape. ADUA is looking to fill this void. They are hoping to use my video to raise money.
Studies have shown that the Buvuma HIV rate is almost 30% higher than Uganda's mainland. The fishermen take long fishing trips and then celebrate their safe return with lots of drinking and prostitution. If someone scars their reputation by accusing them as HIV+, the fishermen simply move to a different village. The villages are mobile, searching for the fishing hot spots around the coast. Because of this, they don't invest in their villages, leaving malaria-ridden swamps undrained and latrines unbuilt. Nowadays illegal fishing (using nets with small wholes) and a high birth rate has nearly exhausted the lake. This is forcing people towards farming, an economy that has slowed to a near standstill due to the current drought. "What about irrigation?" I asked. "That's too much work," was the response. It seems like the fishing attitude has stuck with people as they have switched over to farming.
From what I saw, you could count on a few hands the number of houses with power (all government or catholic funded buildings) and I'm pretty sure there was no running water on the island. I am proud to say I took my first shower out of a bucket. I also watched our host family pick out a chicken for us to eat that night.
Teaching was a blast! We would hold village meetings teaching about AIDS, malaria, nutrition, and sanitation. The people were thirsty for knowledge. One old guy got up after our presentation to thank us. He said that never in his life someone come to teach in his village (I'm guessing he was 50). After one of our meetings, a man asked us: "So I've always wondered how fast AIDS travels through the air. Can you answer that?" Yeah it was bad. They don't have VCT so people don't even know their HIV status.
I had a super spiritual experience at our last stop teaching a catholic elementary school. I had been teaching malaria the whole trip, but suddenly felt like I needed to teach these kids about personal goals. I have no doubt that inspiration was God sent. That lesson was powerful. I probably learned more than anyone. I told them the future of their island rested on their goals and ambitions. I definitely felt the spirit strongly.
I have learned a lot about humanitarian aid. I would like to compare successful HA to the parable of the talents found in the 25th chapter of Matthew. The master in this story gave and then followed up with rewards to those who utilized his gifts. I have found that many NGO's throw money at people and forget to follow up. Evidence of this is everywhere. One school we visited had two buildings with leaky roofs. Instead of repairing them, they found it easier to get funding for a whole new building. You better believe I was disgusted.
You also need to make sure that people are making sacrifices for your help. This forces them to take ownership. I would love to see more NGO's focus on teaching creative entrepreneurial skills rather than the amount of money or services they dole out. One campaign slogan that was sounded by many canidates in the recent elections was "Better service delivery." What does that mean? You'll get more free stuff if you vote for me. Yeah it's not good at all.
It was frustrating how slow the people are. In America we probably could have accomplished 3x as much work. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner each takes an hour. Each town had to give us a long winded welcome and were slow to organize. One day one of our social workers felt tired so we went home 3 hours early. It just makes you want to make your own NGO.
A hardcore feminist would have probably died seeing the way the women greet men on the islands. Whenever a man walks past they kneel down and wait to be acknowledged while looking at the ground. Even the little girls (three or four) follow this tradition.
I wish I could have filmed the way the islanders greeted! It was almost comical! They would usually shake right hands while using their left hand to hold their right elbow as a sign of respect. Then a hardcore Q/A session would commence, with the just about same questions and answers used everytime. Responses to questions would start nearly before the person asking finished talking. People talked in high-pitched mumble, almost whispering. They mumbled so quietly for a while I had no idea what they were saying. The whole time both people avoid eye contact. The following dialogue is almost the same for every the meeting between two men (in Luganda of course):
"How are you, sir"
"I'm fine, sir"
"How did you sleep, sir"
"I was fine, sir"
"How is your food sir"
"I am fine, sir. How are you, sir"
"I am fine, sir."
"How did you sleep, sir?"
"I was fine, sir."
"Good for you, sir"
"Also good for you sir. OK sir"
"Ok"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
...
The sighs at the end were hilarious! They would go on and on until someone thought of some substantial thing to talk about.
And that's only a fraction of what I need to write about this last week. Get back to this soon.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
March 8th
I have decided that we don't fully acknowledge how blessed we are to live in America. I think the media tries to convince us that our politicians have failed and that our country is in shambles. I wish I could take one of these cynical broadcasters to Uganda for a month. America is free from the widespread corruption that is currently crippling Uganda. America has a constitution that makes an oppressive dictatorship an impossibility. America has a dynamic social hierarchy, meaning that, by in large, there is hope for all to become what they want to be. America has an education system that values critical thinking, rather than wrote memorization. America seems to be perpetually devoid of internal violence. And most impressively, America is actively striving to give these same advantages to the rest of the world, expecting nothing in return.
You hear people complaining about the lack of jobs in the states, try coming here. If you do a post-doc in America in just about anything, you're job is pretty much secured. Here, nothing guarantees anything. You hear people whining about Medicare/Medicaid. I'll admit, these programs need reform, think about them compared to most of the world. What happens when you have nothing and contract cerebral malaria (extremely fatal)? What happens when you're 55 and all of your children have died, leaving you unable to support yourself? Of course friends will probably be there for you, but what happens when you don't even have any of those? In both instances, an early death is just about inevitable.
Guys, I love America. Here the word America means so much more than being filthy rich; it is synonymous with hope. We may never realize how truly magnificent our nation has become. So next time someone pessimistically alludes to the future of our nation, do me a favor and set them straight. America has a future just as bright as it's past, and that's saying something.
So now you are probably wondering what inspired this patriotic rant. Today our family went to some parental support meetings in the villages. During the meetings I looked around the room into the faces of mainly single mothers in attendance. Their faces told the story of a people suffering things I, or any other American for that manner, would probably never understand.
Hey I'm really sorry if you think this blog is turning into an emotionally driven sob story. I'm kinda recording everything I'm feeling, and no doubt that makes for a taxing read.
As I already said, I am ecstatic for the trip to the islands and am excited to see some more of this country. Thanks for your support!
-Eric Reuben Smith
You hear people complaining about the lack of jobs in the states, try coming here. If you do a post-doc in America in just about anything, you're job is pretty much secured. Here, nothing guarantees anything. You hear people whining about Medicare/Medicaid. I'll admit, these programs need reform, think about them compared to most of the world. What happens when you have nothing and contract cerebral malaria (extremely fatal)? What happens when you're 55 and all of your children have died, leaving you unable to support yourself? Of course friends will probably be there for you, but what happens when you don't even have any of those? In both instances, an early death is just about inevitable.
Guys, I love America. Here the word America means so much more than being filthy rich; it is synonymous with hope. We may never realize how truly magnificent our nation has become. So next time someone pessimistically alludes to the future of our nation, do me a favor and set them straight. America has a future just as bright as it's past, and that's saying something.
So now you are probably wondering what inspired this patriotic rant. Today our family went to some parental support meetings in the villages. During the meetings I looked around the room into the faces of mainly single mothers in attendance. Their faces told the story of a people suffering things I, or any other American for that manner, would probably never understand.
Hey I'm really sorry if you think this blog is turning into an emotionally driven sob story. I'm kinda recording everything I'm feeling, and no doubt that makes for a taxing read.
As I already said, I am ecstatic for the trip to the islands and am excited to see some more of this country. Thanks for your support!
-Eric Reuben Smith
Sunday, March 6, 2011
March 6th
So my sister was in a young women's lesson today about the importance of hobbies. The teacher asked everyone their hobbies and then invited them to teach them to the rest of the class. One visitor from America said she liked horse back riding. They don't have horses in Uganda. "Well maybe you can teach us to ride goats or pigs," replied the teacher.
You know that unique feeling you get when you are camping and cooking food over open fires? That's every meal for most Ugandan's. Anyway, that was how I felt at our Young Single Adults social yesterday. We started a fire in the back of the church and cooked food for something like 4 hours. Then we played a girls vs. boys basketball game (so foreign to Ugandan culture). Good times.
I've finally noticed that people are extremely careful about keeping their clothes clean. I wanted to arm wrestle this guy on the ground, but he didn't want to lay down. Reason: everything is washed by hand and from what I hear doesn't last as long.
I had a remarkable talk with a buddy named Keith. We chatted on our porch for a while. The awesome thing was that there was tons of silence and it wasn't awkward. We just kinda sat there looking at monkeys jump around our front yard and thought.
Mom thinks I may get to shadow a OBGYN that lives close by. Luckily Uganda doesn't have the same restrictions that America has and I would definitely get to see multiple births. Sounds awesome! She told me about some lady she ran into that was denied access to a hospital because she couldn't pay the 2 bucks to be admitted. She was dilated to a 10. Anyway, I'm really hoping I could shadow that lady.
I need to start thinking up more I can write about; life is extremely slow. Mostly I just read mission prep/novels and hang out with the family. However, my next post should be a little more action packed as I am going on two trips in the next 3 days to villages.
You know that unique feeling you get when you are camping and cooking food over open fires? That's every meal for most Ugandan's. Anyway, that was how I felt at our Young Single Adults social yesterday. We started a fire in the back of the church and cooked food for something like 4 hours. Then we played a girls vs. boys basketball game (so foreign to Ugandan culture). Good times.
I've finally noticed that people are extremely careful about keeping their clothes clean. I wanted to arm wrestle this guy on the ground, but he didn't want to lay down. Reason: everything is washed by hand and from what I hear doesn't last as long.
I had a remarkable talk with a buddy named Keith. We chatted on our porch for a while. The awesome thing was that there was tons of silence and it wasn't awkward. We just kinda sat there looking at monkeys jump around our front yard and thought.
Mom thinks I may get to shadow a OBGYN that lives close by. Luckily Uganda doesn't have the same restrictions that America has and I would definitely get to see multiple births. Sounds awesome! She told me about some lady she ran into that was denied access to a hospital because she couldn't pay the 2 bucks to be admitted. She was dilated to a 10. Anyway, I'm really hoping I could shadow that lady.
I need to start thinking up more I can write about; life is extremely slow. Mostly I just read mission prep/novels and hang out with the family. However, my next post should be a little more action packed as I am going on two trips in the next 3 days to villages.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
March 1st
I tried washing baptismal clothes by hand on Monday. Andrew was laughing at my attempt. Needless to say, washing machines mean a lot more now. From what I hear, I will be doing that every week in Brazil. Bring it on!
Today I had a little PMG study group with Douglas and Andrew, who are both leaving for missions this month. We studied "humility" under the Christ-like attributes chapter. They taught me so much! These guys have mastered humility and their thoughts on it were inspirational.
I think it's interesting that people from different cultures face completely different trials, and subsequently have different collective strengths. While America as a whole may struggle getting caught up in climbing the social latter, many Africans have strained relationships with their parents (see last post). It's almost as if God uses cultures to "personalize" our experience here on earth. For instance, if someone was lacking in the humility department, one might be sent to a developed nation, where pride would surround him/her. For example, I heard one slightly humorous story:
One American we know was talking with some mothers from a village in Tanzania. One mom asked, "In your country, how do you keep your kids from spending your church offerings on sweets when you ask them to take them to the bishop." The American responded that in her homeland kids went everywhere with their parents. The Tanzanian with 7 kids responded, "That must be so stressful. I'm so sorry." She went on to say that her children would walk the three hours to visit their grandparents on a few minutes notice and come home three to four days later. I guess not knowing where your kids for half a week isn't stressful.
So I've been praying a lot about this trip I was thinking about making to these islands in Lake Victoria. It would be three days with a long boat ride there teaching Malaria/AIDS/nutrition/sanitation/filming a fund-raising video. Today I felt completely at peace with the idea so I am planning on going. We are thinking maybe March 9th.
Uganda is making me pro-affirmative action. My dad has done his fair share of car shopping and said that every dealership he visited was Indian owned. From what I hear, people from India operate all of Uganda's business sector. Of course successful Indians surround themselves with people who share their language and culture, perpetuating the division. So you have a distinct hierarchy: whites, Indians, blacks.
Anyway, life is going great. I'm officially treating the next week and a half as a vacation to spend some more time with my family before they start international school.
Today I had a little PMG study group with Douglas and Andrew, who are both leaving for missions this month. We studied "humility" under the Christ-like attributes chapter. They taught me so much! These guys have mastered humility and their thoughts on it were inspirational.
I think it's interesting that people from different cultures face completely different trials, and subsequently have different collective strengths. While America as a whole may struggle getting caught up in climbing the social latter, many Africans have strained relationships with their parents (see last post). It's almost as if God uses cultures to "personalize" our experience here on earth. For instance, if someone was lacking in the humility department, one might be sent to a developed nation, where pride would surround him/her. For example, I heard one slightly humorous story:
One American we know was talking with some mothers from a village in Tanzania. One mom asked, "In your country, how do you keep your kids from spending your church offerings on sweets when you ask them to take them to the bishop." The American responded that in her homeland kids went everywhere with their parents. The Tanzanian with 7 kids responded, "That must be so stressful. I'm so sorry." She went on to say that her children would walk the three hours to visit their grandparents on a few minutes notice and come home three to four days later. I guess not knowing where your kids for half a week isn't stressful.
So I've been praying a lot about this trip I was thinking about making to these islands in Lake Victoria. It would be three days with a long boat ride there teaching Malaria/AIDS/nutrition/sanitation/filming a fund-raising video. Today I felt completely at peace with the idea so I am planning on going. We are thinking maybe March 9th.
Uganda is making me pro-affirmative action. My dad has done his fair share of car shopping and said that every dealership he visited was Indian owned. From what I hear, people from India operate all of Uganda's business sector. Of course successful Indians surround themselves with people who share their language and culture, perpetuating the division. So you have a distinct hierarchy: whites, Indians, blacks.
Anyway, life is going great. I'm officially treating the next week and a half as a vacation to spend some more time with my family before they start international school.
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