Teacha Rora

Well, hello world of computers. I've missed you.

Let's talk about this week for a second. It's been a big change since the week before it.

First of all, the homesickness has hit. I'm not going to sit here and whine about it because I know that I'm here for a purpose and that it's good I'm staying and learning more about the culture and so on and so forth. With that said, let me be honest. I really want to go to Walmart. I want to go see a movie. I want to hug my family. I want to see my roommate. I want to be able to speak English really fast. I want a bowl of coco puffs. I want to go to a church where I feel like I'm fully able to worship God. This is normal, but it's also a struggle. It's weird, too, because I'm not one to be really homesick. It may have something to do with culture shock, like some sort of retreat from the culture, I'm really not sure. Fortunately, the missionaries who have been here two, four, ten years still struggle with it so I'm not alone.

Now let's get onto the main theme of this week: teaching. School started and so has my main assignment. Just dub me "teacha rora", because that's what the children here call me (because the people here mix up their "l"s and "r"s. It's pretty funny, I'm not gonna lie).

So I work at two schools. The first is Nkokunjeru Primary, a public school in the neighborhood I live in. I teach/observe/pretty much just teach the P5 English class of roughly 30-40 students. AAH. I've never taught a class that big, especially to a classroom of children who don't have good English. Technically I'm supposed to be observing and helping the teacher with whatever she needs, but after the first day she gave me the book and the teacher's guide and I had to start planning lessons. My first day of teaching was actually really stressful. The kids were whispering to one another in Ruyankole [sidenote: I've seen the name of the language spelled two different ways. orunya kore and Runyankole. It's just stick with the latter] and I'm pretty sure they were making fun of me. That, and I was kind of sick. Right after I taught, I had to take tea with the other teachers and they made me drink almost all of it (Ugandan tea = hot milk with a slight tea flavor and they have really big mugs). Not a good day. The second day I taught was actually really fun. Then it broke my heart. I gave them a simple composition exercise, and while it was fun in class, the kid just really didn't get it. When I was grading afterwards, I found that many of them had written the same thing--aka copied the wrong answers off of one another--and they didn't know anything about paragraphs at all. They've been learning English since they were four. I wanted to cry.

My second teaching job is at Bible Baptist, a private Christian school. This is a lot different. The classes are only about ten pupils large, and I skip from grade to grade. Because of the small class size, the kids understand better and are easier to teach. They are also a lot more affectionate. The teachers there are actually really glad I'm there, unlike the teachers at Nkokunjeru, who don't care all that much. The headmaster is, like, REALLY REALLY glad that I'm there. Christina and Davey go too, and he just wants us to teach as much as possible. We even led chapel.

There are similarities between the schools, however. They both use the same teaching methods, which is basically rote memorization. Kids copy off of each other like crazy. There aren't enough books at all. Lots of the kids have aids. And I love all of those children.

It's hard.

On another note, I'm also learning about actual missionary life. That's hard too. Just to see that it's not a really huge adventure, but it's daily, grueling living sometimes. I knew this in my head, but it's different to see it. Yesterday I went to Matt and Crystal's house to help Crystal. They have two kids, one boy by blood and one boy by adoption. They are foster caring for a baby and Crystal is six months pregnant. She's home by herself a lot and can't lift anything heavy. Here's the catch: they don't have running water, and they have to bring all the water in with huge jerry cans. When Matt leaves for the weekend to do ministry, she has a hard time. Just before we got here, their house was almost broken into. They tried to adopt a baby in January, but a week or so after they brought her home, she died. Their adopted son is having attachment problems. She has to hang her mops out to dry on a line. I mean, there's all these things that would be a big deal in America, and she deals with it. It's life. Some of these people are my heroes because they don't mind being realistic about all this.

Seven weeks to go and I'm already exhausted. The power at home has been out pretty much all week and I really want to call my mom. There's a rat hiding somewhere in the house. The birds wake me up at 6:30 every morning. My allergies are driving me crazy. It's impossible to get rest from anything or anyone but Jesus here.

But he is good. He loves me. I need to love his people.

Have I mentioned that I'm ridiculously glad I'm here?

Thing I love most about Uganda: All you have to do is smile at someone and they'll give you a huge smile back. I think I have a gift for smiling and it's my favorite thing in the world.

Josh Crooks the Canadian Muzungu.

The fresh smells of Uganda: B.O. and burning trash. Mmm, mmm, makes me smile. Actually, Josh Crooks is sitting next to me and just criticized that comment. It really doesn't smell like that all the time, but it smells like that a lot. This is something my nose will have to become accustomed to.

However, physical contact is not a problem. They have a lot of that here too, and I'm perfectly fine with that. I was made to snuggle.

On Thursday, I used my first pit latrine. I also had my first cup of actual Ugandan tea, which is mostly hot milk. However, I like hot milk, so this is not a problem.  We went to a pastor's house out in a village, visited with him for a bit, explored a banana plantation, and met his mother. I now have a word to teach you. Muzeii = old person. It's respectful and really fun to say. We also ate a lot of bananas. I'm still not a huge fan of bananas, but seeing that they take up the majority of the food supply (actually, this isn't true, but sometimes it feels that way), I have to eat a lot of them.

That night, a lot of us went to youth group for a local Ugandan church and it was a BLAST. There were a ton of kids there and we played volleyball. I love volleyball. I like kids. This works out well. However, I did not eat the mitoke banana that was on my plate. Why? See above paragraph.

On Friday, we left for Queen Elizabeth National Park. I am now convinced that Uganda is the most beautiful country I've ever been to. The mountains are huge and everything is SO green. We got to ride on top of land rovers, which was pretty hardcore, but I did a lot of screaming and got cut by a prickle tree. Josh (mentioned earlier) kept me from flying off. We also got to walk to the edge of a cliff. Our hotel was really nice. Christina and I had a room/suite/little house all to ourselves overlooking Rift Valley, where the park was. However, nighttime brought a lot of spiders. And geckos. Both of which Christina is afraid of.

The next morning we got up at 5:30 in the morning to go on a lion hunt--minus the hunting part, or at least we only hunted with our eyes, not with guns--but didn't end up finding any. The ride, however, was fun. Christina, Josiah, and I shared a land rover. Josiah and I were as hyper as two-year-olds, and like obnoxious Americans, we listened to the Lion King soundtrack on the way into the park and he yelled at all the antelope we saw. He also kept me from flying off the vehicle. At 11, we went on a boat ride and got to see lkots of elephants (enjojo) and water buffalo (embogo) and crocodiles (gonya) and birds (I don't remember the word for those). Then we took a group nap--sort of. We finally went to get our lunch at a hotel nearby around 2, went back to our hotel to swim, and then went home exhausted. And really dusty.

Now to the homosexuality issue for those who are concerned: it's a big issue here and we've been talking a lot about it this week. American media makes it sound like American missionaries went over to Uganda and convinced all the people that homosexuals should be killed because they are an abomination against God. That is ridiculous. Homosexuality really didn't exist here until Ugandan youth started seeing it on American television. Understand, the structure of the culture here depends on the family unit. Homosexuality breaks down the family unit. That's why it's such a problem here. It's a cultural thing, not a church thing. It would be great if American media would present it in the correct light.

Josh Crooks is distracting me from writing anything else. He calls it "editing". I call it "tearing me down". Fortunately he's Canadian, so his English corrections don't really count.

Agandi, basebo na banyabo (how are you, ladies and gentlemen)

At the moment, I am sitting at the Boyett's house, watching the green, green trees waving in the sunshine as Susan makes lunch. I've been here a week and feel like it's already been a month.

The schedule's been pretty busy so far, so I'll only give you some snapshots.

On the way to church last Sunday (which, ps, was very lively and long) we drove past a boy who looked lost and was only wearing one shoe. The other foot was bandaged and he was carrying around a plastic blue bin. When Dale (Hollenbeck, the missionary team leader) took him to the hospital later, he discovered that the boy had escaped from the surgical ward around two in the morning. This boy had been out in the rain for eight hours. When Dale asked the nurse to clean him up, all she said was, "he knows where his bed is". Scariest part of this story: people knew this was going on. They saw him escape, he was in a public place--but nobody did anything about it. He could've died.

Another snapshot: on Monday, a few of us actually went to the surgical ward, mainly to work with the kids that were stuck in with the adults. When I first got there, I didn't think I could do it. I am AWFUL with hospitals, needles, whatever, and I was scared to death. But when I sat down on a hospital bed with some people to show them picture books, a crowd soon gathered. Many people there did not speak English, but were trying to teach us orunya kore. They were laughing, people were crowding at the windows to watch us. A woman howled in the background as she had open wounds cleaned, and we kept going.

The people here LOVE it when we speak to them in their own language, and our group is progressing quickly. I have the Ugandan kids and workers in our compound teach me words. Yesterday, two of the girls helped me read a children's book about a monkey in orunya kore. Oh, and they laughed...

I rode my first boda/motorcycle taxi yesterday. And yes, I wore a giant helmet. It was fun.

There is a boy on our compound named Happy. He is tiny--looks like he's four or five but he's really about eleven or twelve. He doesn't actually live there, but he lives close by. He's really smart and likes to put things together, but his family never sent him to school because they thought he was going to die--so what was the point? Therefore, the Hollenbecks pay his school fees. He's precious. Speaking of school, it's a HUGE deal here. A child = a retirement fund for parents. Mothers will even prostitute themselves to pay for their children to go to school.

Uganda is supposedly over 80% Christian, but has the highest rate of domestic violence in the world.

Wow.

I'm acclimating slowly. It's really starting to feel like home, especially as I get to know more kids. Tomorrow we're going to go visit a more rustic village outside the city. On Friday and Saturday, we're going to a gamepark. Woohoo!

Lunch is about ready, and I think Susan may be getting lonely....

So Many Bananas

Alright, let's see how fast I can do this. Lunch is almost ready and monopoly is going on without me.

We did language learning today, so when I come home I'll be fully fluent in orunya kore....kind of. There are so many "n"s in this language it's not even funny. Everything I learned is already falling out of my head.

We also finished orientation and signed up for job assigments yesterday, which makes me ridiculously excited. Not only will I be doing some things at the school, I may get to go to the hospital to play with kids, work in the youth group, take part in a omens bible study, and maybe teach piano to some missionary kids. Along with language learning and reading five books and yada yada yada.

Yesterday we also went to the market. Very intimidating. The biggest impression left on me: a man lying facedown in the mud with his pants half off. At first I thought he was dead. I'll get used to this place...eventually.

Most interesting sight so far: the truck on the road in front of us had half a car in its trunk. Not only did it have this, but there were at least six men back there with it, one of whom was sitting in the front seat of the half-car, reading a newspaper. Then, of course, we were a car of mzungus following it, therfore everyone and their mother turned to look at the sight going down the road. It was basically an African circus parade.

However, it is normal to see a man riding down the road on a bike with ten banana bunches hanging off the sides--and banana bunches aren't small.

The puppies here are cuter than puppies at home

I'm adapting slowly, but it's coming. Sometimes I absolutely feel like I'm on an alien planet, and sometimes it feels just like home. I'm really glad, however, that there are nine children on our compound. Though it may take me a while to get used to being around Ugandans in general, my heart is already captured by the children.

Mukama Asiimwe = Praise the Lord, or something along those lines. The reply is Asiimwe Mononga. Or something along those lines.

I may go practice some more.

I'M HERE!

I am alive. I am safe. Oh yeah, and I climbed a tree today.

So much has happened over the past couple days that it feels like I've been here for several weeks.

The plane rides were long and crazy...and I was ridiculously tired, making everything a lot more funny. Rachael was too, which is why she joked about "spotting Ay-rabs" when we went over the Sahara desert.

[ps.--the team is nine people: me, Rachael, Josh, Josiah, Davey, Christina, Katie, Lauren, and Janessa]

When we landed, I got scared. I think the fear carried over a few days because I was just so overwhelmed. We stayed at Dr. K's house for a night, which was about 45 minutes from the airport, and went on a six-hour van ride to Mbarara. We even stopped at the equator, which was two signs and a lot of shops. We also told a lot of stories and corny jokes. It was a...bumpy ride.

When we got to Mbarara, we ate dinner with the mission team here, which is actually pretty sizeable. I had my first fried grasshopper (tasted like crunchy bacon fat with sardines, and the tail got stuck in my teeth. I still get teased for that). Then Rachael, Christina, and I went back to the Hollenbeck's house where we will be staying for the rest of the time here (though Christina will leave after four weeks).

Today we slept in til...um, noon...that's twleve hours in one night.....and then we had team orientation with everyone at the house. Katie, Christina, and I got to go out on the town, which was a little bit scary, but I've got ten weeks to get used to it. Then Rachael and I made some new little friends--which leads back to me climbing a tree.

Random things:

• I will gain weight here. The food is delicious. Except for grasshoppers.
• There are a lot of cows here. There are also a lot of bananas. I have yet to do a banana-cow ratio.
• Everything is green. Like, alien planet green. However, the dirt is red, both when it's on the ground and when it's covering me.
• I have allergies here.
• Mosquito nets look like clouds and make me feel like I have a canopy bed.
• Did I mention that they have a lot of bananas here?
• I want a flock of Ugandan children.
• The traffic is crazy, but not as bad as it was in Ukraine. They drive on the left side of the road and honk a lot. 
• Cereal is expensive. Fried tortillas, aka Chipati, is not. This is bad for the growth of my lower pooch-sack, also known as my baby belly, also known as Laura is growing in the wrong places.
• We begin language training soon. I learned about seven words tonight from my new little friends.
• I like the music better here.
• The vision for this team--for the whole trip--is awesome.
• Missionary life is surprisingly like and surprisingly unlike life at home.
• I don't know how to spell the name of my neighborhood, but it is pronounced "N-coke-une-jero". This language is going to be hard to learn.
• They used shillings here. 2,000 shillings equals...either ten cents or a dollar, I don't remember. Yay inflation!
• I have been called "Mzungu" more times than I can count. This is the word for white person. They are not politcally correct here.
• I will not be posting many pictures. The internet is expensive.
• Ugandan people stare at you anywhere you go, but they are really friendly.
• I expect daily marriage proposals.
• And there's so much more....but I need to get off so everyone can go to bed.
• Did I mention that I'm excited?!?!?!
• Oh! They're watching The Office in the living room! BYE!

Goodbye...or maybe hello?

This will be my last blog post in the U.S. I hope that's ok with everybody.

How do I feel? Super excited, super nervous, and super tired. Oh yes, and I am sick of packing. I'm almost of the frame of mind to jump on the plane in a carboard box and Chacos. I am also a little bit sad. This week has been one giant I-am-growing-up-and-life-moves-on moment. Oh well.

The essentials have been packed. I have two packs of baby wipes, lots of hand sanitizer, three cans of bug spray, a deck of Uno cards, a coloring book, poptarts---and a few other things. I am ARMED.

Itinerary for the next few days:

• Get to Covenant at 5:00 on Sunday afternoon. Sleep there.
• Go to the Chattanooga airport at 5:30 am the next morning. 
• Chattanooga to Atlanta: 8:35-9:40am
• Atlanta to Detroit: 10:55am-1:00pm
• Detroit to Amsterdam: 5:40pm-7:35am 
• Now it's Tuesday
• Amsterdam to Entebbe (Uganda): 10:40am-7:30pm 
• Stay at Dr. K's house for the night. Talk to some important people. Sleep...maybe.
• Now it's Wednesday
• Leave Dr. K's house and drive down to Mbarara. We made it!

Basically, I plan on being a zombie until Thursday. 

I want to thank everyone for their prayers and support. This whole trip has definitely been ordained by God, I have no doubt about it. Yes, I am going to miss everyone, especially if this leads me on the road to long-term missions one day, but lately I've been learning more about how short life is. It's full of sweet moments, but they are only moments. People come and go no matter how much I love them--but it's ok. I'll spend eternity with most of those people anyway and then I'll say, "I was making a fuss over not spending the summer with you? Why??" This internship is a gift, not a burden. I am privileged to be a vessel for God. 

---As long as nobody asks me to eat bugs. Then I'm not privileged. 

For all those who are afraid of not hearing from me, no worries. I should be able to check the internet regularly (as in every couple days), update my blog, post pictures on facebook, etc. I plan on sharing this trip with everybody, so if you want to keep up with me, it won't be hard. 

Goodbye America! I will miss Krispy Kreme the most!