I'm back!

Greetings everyone! First let me apologize for, as Ugandans say, being lost. Shortly after my last entry my keyboard on my computer stopped working. It’s a long story about me listening to music on my computer while taking a bath and deciding to change the song. I don’t know if those couple little drops of water on the keyboard are the cause or not. All I know that the next day it stopped working. As everything in Uganda, it is taking months to get fixed. Thankfully, Amber allowed me to use her computer to update you all!

Let me first tell you about my new love. Her name is Mugezi and she is the cutest little puppy ever. Okay, maybe not ever, but I think she is pretty darn cute. When I first got her I thought I would use this as an opportunity to show my village how intelligent and wonderful dogs could be and that they don’t need to fear and beat them. Knowing that teaching her tricks would make her seem extra clever, I named her Mugezi meaning clever. However, somehow it has been shorten to Gezi (or Moo if you’re talking to my sister Ashley who can figure out how to pronounce it). I have had her for a couple months now and it has been an up and down experience. When I first got her at four weeks old she was the not so proud owner of a bazillion fleas and a belly full of worms. In the first couple of weeks I took her to the vet a few times; once in tears because I was pretty sure she was almost dead. Luckily, after finding a competent vet (you wouldn’t believe how hard one is to find around here) and being de-wormed somewhere around five times she started acting like a normal puppy. The villagers thought I had lost my mind. I speak and worry about Mugezi more than they do their own children. At first, they thought it was crazy that I would walk her on a leash and take her just about everywhere I go. After a few weeks they started buying into it. Not only do they greet me, they greet Mugezi. If she is not with me, they are sure to ask where and how she is. They cannot believe she is a village dog because you cannot see her bones and her coat is so shiny. They are amazed that she can sit when I ask her. They laugh hysterically when she shakes and rolls over on command. When they ask me why she is so beautiful I say because I feed her. When they ask why she is so smart I tell them all dogs are. When they ask why she likes people so much I say because I don’t beat her.

Right now, having Mugezi is really working out and I feel like we are making a bit of a difference. Carol’s family is the owner of Mugezi’s mother. I have never seen them beat her and they feed her a bit better than most Ugandans feed their dogs, but for the most part they ignore her. When I have to leave Kiyumba Carol will stay at my house with Mugezi. In the beginning Carol acted like she liked Mugezi, but you could tell she couldn’t care less about her. She thought I was crazy for all the commotion I was making over her. At first, I let Mugezi sleep with me and she thought I was nuts. Last week I had to go away for some training and we sprayed for the bats (six dead and yet there are still more). Mugezi couldn’t stay in the house after spraying so Carol’s family offered to let her stay in their house. I couldn’t believe it. I do not know a Ugandan that lets their dog stay indoors. I get a call from Carol one night saying that because their mattresses are on the floor Mugezi keeps sneaking into bed with her. I assumed that she was rather annoyed by this, but when I returned she admitted that she actually enjoyed sleeping with Mugezi! She actually walked in just now and I told her about how I am writing about her sleeping with Mugezi. She told me she got a bed, but she will still let Mugezi sleep with her. It is outrageous and wonderful.

Ugandans are fearful of dogs, no matter how small, and the first few days of schools were ridiculously difficult. Mugezi was so excited to have all of these new friends, but they were terrified of her. They would come to my house to greet me, but Mugezi would make it out the door first and they would take of screaming and flailing their arms like a bunch of wild hoodlums. Of course Mugezi loves this and takes off after them. Sweet little Dissan, who knows Mugezi, did this. I thought he was joking, but after running in circles for a while hitting his head on my window and falling in a hole, he was in tears. On top of dealing with Mugezi, she has a brother that comes over to play first thing in the morning. So not only was I chasing one cute little puppy I was looking like a lunatic chasing two cute little puppies. However, it is now week two and the students and teachers love her. She has stopped chasing them and they now love scratching her belly and trying to get her to put her paw out to shake for them. Usually if I am going somewhere and cannot bring Mugezi, I leave her in the house. However, today I was meeting with several people at the school and I was able to leave her out without worrying too much. Every time I would check on her a child was playing with her or she would be sitting with someone under a tree while they were listening to the radio. My one fear is the road. She loves to visit her brother and Carol’s family across the street and while it is just a dirt road sometimes lorries and motorcycles are driving rather quickly. Overall, I’m glad I love having Mugezi around and I cannot wait for you all to meet her when she comes to the states!


Martin is one of my favorite kids in the village. I guess I shouldn’t say kid, he is sixteen, but in the seventh grade so sometimes I think of him in that way. When I first came to Kiyumba he asked me to explain what a “volunteer” was. I explained that it is someone who does work without pay. Most people here have a very hard time understanding this concept. They always wonder why we would do such a thing. One day, I asked Martin if he would fetch water for me and offered to pay him two hundred shillings. However, he refused to take the money. He said, “Madam Nalubega, I don’t want money; I am a volunteer.” He made my day. He actually makes my day everyday I see him.


On Valentines Day I will have been in Uganda for a whole year! I cannot believe how fast this year has flown by. I can remember my first day in home stay. I was not used to feeling so awkward and out of place and I was feeling a bit worried that I was not going to be able to make it two years. I have come a long way. No longer do I feel out of place and rarely am I awkward anymore. While one year seems like a long time, it does not feel like I have accomplished much of anything. I know that is not completely true; I have accomplished a lot of things on a personal level. I have many wonderful friendships here in Kiyumba, I am growing as a person, and I am realizing how truly amazing my family are friends in the states are. However, this second year I am hoping to accomplish more tangible things. When joining Peace Corps I remember thinking that two years was a long time, but they knew what they were doing when they required a two-year contract. I would say that most volunteers would agree with me when I say that it takes most of the first year at site to figure out how to work within this culture. Just now am I beginning to understand how and why schools work the way they do. Just now I am figuring out whom I can work with and who is just wasting my time. Hopefully, this next year will be as great as the first!


Finally all of this talk of a library is finally coming along! Now that school is back in session, after ten long weeks, I met with the deputy of the school and talked about a way forward in the development of the library. After taking another look at the room where the library will be, I realized that the school has way more books than I realized. While they are mostly textbooks, they are still something. Thankfully, my cousin Shane, his wife Christen, and their church have also donated seven boxes of books! I was super excited to receive them because they are storybooks instead of textbooks, which is hard to come by in Uganda. During holiday I had kids at my house overwhelmed with the wonderful selection of books and so far I have only received one of the seven boxes (even though all seven were sent together). The box I received also contained a lot of novels, mostly Hardy Boys, and the older kids have become bookworms. Carol and Kennedy will come over and we will just all sit around reading. It has been great to see because Ugandans do not read for fun; I have never seen a Ugandan reading a book other than a textbook. However, as with Kennedy and Carol, I am hoping to change that and create a culture of reading here at Kiyumba Primary. The room where the books are stored is a complete disaster with books everywhere and no shelving. Of course, the school has no money to purchase shelving. After awhile of discussing possible solutions to no avail, it dawned on me that when I went home in September many of my wonderful friends and family purchased some of the paper beads my students made. Because of that money, we are able to purchase shelving and hopefully buy some mats so the students can lie in the grass and read. I am super excited about the project finally taking off and cannot wait until we can begin using the library. Oh, and before I forget! My friend Carla and her classroom in Chicago have been saving their money for the library as well! With that money I am hoping to purchase some books in local language for the young ones who have not yet learned English. Thank you for all of your contributions!


Bonny is another one of my favorites. Not only is he incredibly polite and funny, he is also very intelligent. Bonny has lost both of his parents while he was young, but has since lived with his elderly grandfather in a village near Kiyumba. The first week of school Bonny was nowhere to be seen. Paol had told me before hand that Bonny would not be back at school, but I did not believe him; Bonny loves school. Towards the end of the week the p6 teacher came to ask me why my friend Bonny is not in school. Poal is there and informs us that Bonny’s grandfather kicked him out of the house so he had to go to Nyendo, the nearest town, to find a job and place to live. We made a plan for his two best friends, Paol and Martin, and I to go to Nyendo on Sunday to find Bonny and see if we can get him to come back to school. In the meantime Mr.Kisuli would visit the grandfather. Because I am cheap and the boys have no money, we decide we will walk to Nyendo. And because I am not very bright sometimes I bring Mugezi along, wear flip-flops, and no sunscreen because it wasn’t sunny. It took us two hours and ten minutes. Towards the end Paol took turns with me carrying Mugezi which passersby thought was more amusing than me carrying Mugezi. While we were exhausted it was a great to spend the day with the boys.
When we got to Nyendo I met many people in Paol’s family whom stay in Nyendo. We made it to the bakery where Bonny works and lives to find many other boys his age with bad manners. One passed me a note saying, “Will you play sex with me? My name is Mike. What is yours?” Bonny comes out with the biggest smile on his face and I forgot how much I missed having him around the past few months. I talk to Bonny a bit about why he is not in school and he tells me that his grandfather has refused to pay his school fees and has kicked him out, but he cannot tell me why. I’m not sure if he, himself, doesn’t know the answer, doesn’t have the English to explain it to me, or just doesn’t want to tell me. I’m not even sure if he is telling the whole truth. Many students leave school to take jobs making money. I talk to Bonny about how he wants to be an engineer; he always told me he wanted to be an engineer because he wanted people to call him Engineer Bonny. I ask him how he is going to reach his goal without finishing primary school. He says it is impossible to become an engineer because he doesn’t have the money for schooling. I have offered to pay his school fees and he told me he will return in a few weeks, but I am not sure if he is telling the truth.
I have been so impressed by a few teachers who have went out of their way to get Bonny back in school; I have never seen a teacher here go out of their way for a student. I told Bonny how all of the teachers have been asking about him and how everyone wants him back. He asked, why the three of us would walk all the way to Nyendo and I told him because, like everyone at Kiyumba, we miss him a lot and want him to come back. By the look on his face, you could tell he was surprised. I have talked with Bonny about his grandfather before and it seems that he is abusive and as though Bonny does not realize that even though his grandfather may not want him, we do. Tonight Mr. Kisuli said he would visit with the grandfather so I guess we’ll know his side of the story tomorrow.

Okay, perhaps this is enough for now. I know some people were asking about my holidays. They were wonderful. My friend Rachelle came and we cooked potatoes, green beans, apple crisp, and chicken. However, we were invited last minute to Carol’s house and they fed us so much food we couldn’t touch our own. Mr. Serwadda also brought us some food. That day Mugezi probably ate her body weight in meat we just could not physically eat. While it could not compare to spending the day with my family, it was great to stay in my village and spend it with my family of sorts here in Uganda.

Anyway, I apologize again for taking so long to update you all. I am not sure when I will be able to write again. hopefully I will have my computer back soon! Thanks for taking the time out of your busy lives to see what I have been up to! Miss you all!

Peace and love,

Autumn

p.s. I just read a book by Kelly Corrigan called The Middle Place and it was great memoir about a father and daughter, both, diagnosed with cancer. If you are looking for something to read you should pick it up!

Muli mutya! I hope this message finds you all happy and well! I cannot believe it is almost Thanksgiving and that Christmas is in just over a month! This message is going to be short, but I wanted to send a short update!

Before I left for America I planted a garden. The villagers laughed when they saw me “digging” as they call it, but that is nothing new. The school was kind enough to build me a fence to keep the goats and cows from eating my food and when I returned from the states things were actually growing! I have tomatoes, maize, carrots, eggplant, green peppers, and beans. The other day I was thinking how easy it is to grow your own food. While it did take some work to actually cultivate the land, by hand of course, I have had to do little to no work since. The other day I was talking to a student and he told me how Mr. Kisuli had another student weed my garden the other day. Then another told me how Mr. Kisuli had transplanted some of my tomato plants. On top of that they had also pruned my plants for me! No wonder it has been so easy, everyone has been doing the work for me and I had no clue.

As many of you know I have been thinking about getting a dog lately. I keep going back and forth on whether I will do it or not, but now that there are puppies in the village I think I may just go ahead. Despite wanting them for how darn cute they are I really want to show Ugandans that animals are smart. There are so many dogs in the village and a majority of them are neglected, feared, or abused. I show them pictures of Gunner all of the time doing funny things like wearing a birthday hat, swimming, or just posing in front of the Christmas tree and they love it. The other day they were looking at a book with a photo of a dog playing frisbee and they could not believe it. They have no idea that dogs can learn. So, I am hoping that by having an Ugandan dog myself I can prove that all dogs, not just Muzungu dogs, are intelligent and deserve to be loved and taken care of. Or, maybe that is just my excuse to get a cute little puppy.

Holiday begins on the 26th lasting for over two months! I was talking with the deputy about starting a Life Skills club at the school teaching students about HIV/AIDS and how to make good choices. I want an Ugandan to teach with me to make sure the students are understanding so I was planning to start next term. However, much to my surprise, the deputy decided that it was important enough to start over holiday and even offered himself to come help out! I am super excited about this project and incredibly proud of Mr. Lubowa for seeing the importance of teaching life skills and offering his time. Volunteerism of this extent is not something I see often out of Ugandans!

I walked around the conner of the school yesterday afternoon to find a teacher hitting about twenty students on the butt. I just stood there and watched her. That usually puts them in an awkward position because they know they are going to be in trouble, but the cannot stop midway through. However, usually they start hitting them less hard when I am watching. It always surprises me about how upset I can get when I see this, but after awhile it actually became funny. I know that sounds wrong, but here is this ridiculous woman hitting fifteen year old with a stick on their butt. On top of that, it does not even hurt the kids. They run off towards me laughing. Apparently they were in trouble for not cleaning the compound and the way they see it is they got hit twice, which did not even hurt, and they got out of cleaning. I talked to the teacher afterwards and she says, “I did it because they were disturbing me.” I mention how this is not the first time I have had to talk to her and she says, “Last time I was only chasing them with a stick I didn’t hit them.” You were only chasing them with a stick? You are a grown woman chasing kids around in circles with a stick while they are laughing at you. On top of that, you are too slow to actually hit them. She says, “Well, I told them if they did not clean they were going to have to stay after school and finish it and when I went back they still were not cleaning so I had to hit them.” She does not get it. If she would have actually carried through with keeping them after school I am sure they would have learned next time, but they knew she wouldn’t want to stay after her self. It just so happens that tomorrow I was planning on teaching classroom management and discipline to the teachers at my school. I am excited because after this they have no excuse, but I have no doubt that they will continue beating children because it is easy and makes them feel good about themselves.


I was too lazy to proofread this; I apologize! If I do not talk to you before Thanksgiving, I hope it is wonderful!

Peace and love,

Autumn

Hello everyone! I hope this message finds you all happy and healthy! Again, thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read about mine!

Updates on the break in: There are none. Partly because the police are not doing their job, but mostly because I have chosen to forget about it. My things are gone and long gone. Most likely whoever stole them has sold them by now and most likely will not be found. I had my time to be upset and I don’t want this incident to hinder my time here. The village has been incredibly gracious towards me and sorry for my loss. Under the circumstances, I do not think I could ask for more. As for Paol, I don’t know if I fully believe he did it or not. They really do not have evidence that he is the culprit. I truly believe that if it was Paol it was because when I did not return when I said I would he thought I was not returning. The first day I saw him after my return the look on his face was nothing short of pure happiness and shock. While it does not make what he may have done okay, it at least makes it a bit more understandable. Even if I found out it was Paol I would not do much more about it than let him know how hurt I am. If Paol is held formally accountable for his actions he would probably go to prison or get kicked out of school. Paol needs school because without it there is a good chance he would find himself in a life revolving around poverty and stealing. It is wrong to steal, especially to break into someone’s house. I feel hurt, but I am not about to let the loss of my things potentially ruin someone’s life, even if it was their own fault. For those of your worried about my safety, I have never felt more safe. They have done construction blocking off the bathing room door from the outside and creating a new entry from my bedroom. Not only will this prevent anyone from being able to break in that way, I will not have to leave my house to bath anymore. It was always kind of scary to go out there at night when the teachers were away. It was also kind of awkward when I would forget clothes and I would have to come out in a towel scandalizing the village. I am happy!

I have found the best way to know my way around the village and the people is by carrying water for the little ones I come across while I am out walking. The set up of a village is hard to explain. My village is located off a road, but once you move away from the road there is nothing but small paths making their way through fields. The other day I was walking and saw some small children collecting water. I took their jerry cans. They promised me their home was close, but they were lying. Every house we passed I would say, “Wano (here)?” They would say, “Si wano (not here), kumpi (near)!” We walked up a large hill winding and twisting to a part of the village I have never been before. When we finally arrived they yelled, “Wano Auntie Nalubega!” At this point I realized it was the home of some of my students at Kiyumba. I continued on my way passing many more houses of my students. Each one was happy to see that I had made my way to their part of the village. I must say that is it nice to see where your students live. It is one thing that does not happen very often in the states.

My new favorite thing is Sodoku. I am somewhat obsessed and here is a story to prove how intense I am about it. The other day the construction workers were at my house so I had to stay in my house all day while they were working. I was sitting in my front room doing Sodoku. while they were tearing part of my bedroom room down. One worker comes in and looks at me and says, “Fufu is everywhere!” Meaning there is dust everywhere. At that point I look up from my Sodoku and notice everything around me is completely white. I stand up and there is a perfect print of where I had been sitting. I was so interested in solving my puzzle that I did not even noticed the fufu!

Saturday was my birthday and I want to thank you all for my birthday wishes! Originally I thought I wanted to spend my day at the pool, but once I was in Masaka I realized that the only place I really wanted to be was in my village with the kiddos. It started raining so I decided to head back to the village. Of course, in the village, it was beautiful sunny day! Overall it was a wonderful birthday! However, I will tell you a story I think is funny about my mom. My mom had called, but I was out collecting water so I had missed the call. I was exhausted and fell asleep around eight thirty. My phone rings at eleven thirty; it is my mom wishing me a happy birthday. At this point I have been asleep for three hours. She says, “You sound tired.” I say, “Yea, it is like midnight here I am sleeping.” She then goes on talking having a normal conversation. I am not really talking because I am asleep. She finally gets annoyed and says, “Well, I can tell you don’t want to talk so I’ll just let you go.” Bless her heart for wanting to talk to her daughter on her birthday, but it is midnight! I am sleeping! She says she wasn’t mad, but I don’t believe it. Actually, now that I am typing this I am realizing that perhaps I am lame. I was asleep by eight thirty on Saturday birthday.

The other day Frank was staring at me and he says, “You are a different color than when you left.” I said, yea I think I am much more white now. He says, “Yea, it is much better.”

Jen knows I help the kids carry water and today she was carrying fifty pounds worth on her head. She asks me if I will carry it for her. I declined, but say at least you are almost home. She says, “No, I am going to the duka (store). I am carrying this for Annett.” I ask if Annett is paying her and she says that she is! She was trying to get me to carrying the water and then collect money for the work I did! Sneaky, but smart I suppose.

Holiday is almost here and it is over two months long! I am hoping to do some HIV/AIDS information activities, but I mostly hope to work on the library. I just realized that in April my service will be almost half way over! My cousin’s wife Kristen has collected books from her church that she will soon be sending over and my little sister Schuyler has informed me that her school may be contributing as well. I am working on writing a grant so I can make sure the room is secure, freshly painted, and shelves are made. I am hoping that I will be able to get these things done over break and that we will have some books before the next term in February! If anyone is part of an organization, church, or school, that would like to be part of this library please let me know! We would love books or money that can be used to purchase local language books since they are taught in local language up until P4!

Today I woke up and started to boil water for my oatmeal and coffee only to realize that I am out of gas for my stove. So I move on to plan B which is boiling water on the charcoal as Ugandans do. While I use my charcoal often, I have never used it to strictly boil water. The entire process took me an hour and a half. Usually I can make my breakfast in five minutes. While I choose to do many things as an Ugandan, cooking oatmeal using charcoal is not going to be one of them.

Anyway, as always I miss each and every one of you! I hope you are all happy and well! Because my photos were stolen and because I want to see your beautiful faces, please send me photos of you, your animals, or whatever else so I can share them with my village and hang them on my walls!

I have decided to try taking up running again now that Ashley has given me an early Christmas present of an I-pod shuffle and Courtney gave me some new jams. Yesterday I was running on an open path through a tea field when out of no where one of my students comes up behind me; shoeless and talking away. Me, on the other hand was completely out of breath. When I stopped I asked her if she was tired and she laughed and said, “no.” They do this to me all time. Show me how bad of a runner I am.

Yesterday I was wearing a dress that Lisandro would consider frumpy, but what I would call long and flowy. I am talking with Boney, my fourteen year old student, and my dress is blowing in the wind and Boney looks at it and says, “Madam Nalubaga what a big dress you are wearing!” The previous day he says, “You have become fat while you were in America. What were you eating there?” He cracks me up.

Peace and Love,

Autumn

Greetings all! I hope this message finds you all happy and well! First off, I want to thank you all for taking the time to read my blog after a long break! I apologize, but as always, I have an excuse which I will explain later.

I am not quite sure where to begin. I feel like so many things have happened or maybe so many different emotions have ran through me the past month. As I mentioned in the previous e-mail, I was scheduled to return to the states for a couple of weeks for a wedding. It was great to spend time with my family and friends; I have missed them all so much. The first week I was home I got to spend time with many of my friends and my parents invited family over for a small party. It was wonderful to see all of your smiling faces again!

In general, I found America to be somehow stressful. I can’t even count the number of times I had witnessed conversations revolving around money and the lack there of. How many times I heard people talking about their jobs as if they had to have them and that they have to make more money. While I understand in some cases this may be true, I would say that in most cases people have to have more money and work the miserable jobs they do to support the kind of lifestyle they would like to have. To live in the house they want, to drive the car they want, to have the things they want. I watched people glued to the television and I must admit I did the same and not even because I like it, but because I was lazy. Too lazy to pick up a book, go for a walk, or talk. The worst part about the television experience was the popularity of shows portraying “mean girls” and shows where kids show no respect for themselves and others. I went out to eat with a friend where we ate cheese and bacon covered french fries for an appetizer only to follow it with a meal containing french fries as a side dish. No wonder most Americans are overweight. The idea of an obese child is horrendous. I can tell you that it would be a rare day that I would see an obese Ugandan child and it is not because they are starving. It is because after they finish their chores and then they run around playing all day. I would say that most American food tastes fake to me. After eating food with no trace of preservatives and fake flavors for nine months, American food does not even taste like food anymore. It is not to say that I will never return to America. I love many other things about America. I love that by being an American I am given many resources I would not otherwise have. I love that most schools prepare children with the needed skills to survive. I love America because that is where my family and friends are. However, when I return I will try my best to maintain some of what I have l learned about life here in Uganda. To not eat fake food, do not sit in front of the television, spend more time outside, spend more time talking with people, and do not live a life according to tradition. Do things how you choose to do them.

After being home for a week I started getting serious headaches. I started noticing them on Wednesday and by Friday I was in some serious trouble; no amount of Tylenol was helping. I had a temperature close to 104 and my head felt as thought it could explode. I ended up trading in the rehearsal dinner on Friday for a night in the emergency room. The doctors had assumed it was malaria, treated me, and released me. The next morning I felt worse than ever. I had lost my hearing, could not stand for more than a few minutes, and again the headache was unbearable. Luckily for me Ashley was in town and was kind enough to get me ready for the wedding. Throughout the day I was back and forth between being fine and nearly dead. If you were to look at the photos from the day you could see my ups and downs. Despite how horrible I felt, I was glad to be part of such a special day in Mandy and Bret’s life. The following day we were burying my grandmother who had past away a few days before. Again, I woke up feeling horrible and without hearing for five hours. At this point we realized that loss of hearing was a side effect of the medicine and was prescribed something different by the doctor. By Tuesday I was feeling just about perfect and my flight was scheduled to leave the following day, but Peace Corps requires that I am first cleared by a doctor. This event took three more weeks and a lot more frustration. Doctors here do not know much if anything about Malaria so they were very skeptical to deal with me. Instead I was referred to an infectious disease doctor who took a week to return my call and once he did he wanted more blood tests. So again, they tested me more Malaria. I could not tell you why, but the test took ten days. So again I waited and wait. I felt horrible because the kids in my village were expecting me on a certain date and I was afraid that they thought I was not coming back. It was also frustrating that I did not get a chance to say, “Goodbye” to Lisandro who had just finished his service and was returning to the states. Eventually the test came back negative and I was cleared on a Thursday. However, I could not get ahold of Peace Corps until Tuesday. All the paper work was faxed then and by Wednesday I was able to talk to someone about my return flight which ended up being scheduled for the following day. I was scrambling around trying to get things washed, packed, and a find a ride to the airport. My cousin Chrissy and mom offered to take me and boy was that a disaster. Of course we ended up lost, probably on my account, and without Brent’s help we probably would have never arrived. We were there about an hour before my flight, but luckily I was checked in quickly and security went surprisingly fast as well. I ended up at my gate ten minutes before my flight which I guess was not such a bad thing.

While at home, I got an e-mail from my now nearest volunteer telling me that my house had been broken into. Apparently the day I should have returned to Kiyumba someone had come and sawed the lock off of my bathroom door. Once they were in the bathing area they had managed to climb over the wall (because I do not have a ceiling) and enter the rest of my house. At the time no one was sure what was missing as a result of no one really knowing what I have and no one knowing what I had taken to the states. However, they were sure that my bike was gone and the comforter on my bed. Today I came home to a disaster and just about anything of value gone. My backpacking bag, tent, sleeping bag, Northface jacket, all gone. Other random things like one of my three pillows, my photo album (yes, the one you gave me Mandy), random clothes, an umbrella, my medical kit, my sheets, and any soap I had. However, things such as my gas stove and solar charger were left. While I had time to process and prepare myself for what I had assumed would be gone, I was surprised by how upset I found myself upon my arrival today. I had my beautiful children on my porch yelling “Auntie Nalubega” and I was doing all I could to try to not be upset about my possessions. However, I must say the kids were rather cute about the whole situation. They were upset that someone would do this and about ten of them were standing in my bathing area looking at the foot prints going up my wall acting like detectives arguing over how it happened. After having a conversation in Luganda with a group of seven year olds I found out that Paol was the one that stole my things. I was shocked. Paol is one of my favorites. Paol is always at my house asking me to help him with his English and him helping me with his Luganda. Paol gets upset when I leave for conferences and was devastated when he had to spend his holiday fishing and away from me. Paol is the head boy at the school. He gets upset if I do not let him help me carry water. He helped me make beads. He always came over before school to say, “Hello” and always came over after school to say, “goodbye." Before I came home for my visit Paol used his fishing money to buy a mat and his sister made one for my family. Apparently the police came and picked him up last week and my bike was found (the one things I could really care less about). From what I gathered people have been bringing some of my things to the school, but I am not sure what if anything. After all, my information is based on seven year olds and my knowledge of the Lugandan language. I am hoping that tomorrow I will find out more between the police, the school, and Peace Corps. While I have hope that most of my things will be returned, I feel that because they are just now finding out what all is missing, that some things may be long gone.

I know what you are thinking, that between Malaria, my grandmother dying, and my house being broken into I couldn’t have much worse luck and I would suppose that is true. However, I suppose it was worth it to be able to see my family and friends again. While it was great to be home, I am incredibly happy to be back in my Ugandan home. I missed the kids and my life in Uganda. I only have a short time here in Uganda and I want to spend as much time as possible here. I apologize if this message seems somehow negative, I am sure by next week I will have much happier things to say!

Peace and love,

Autumn

p.s. It is 5:30 in the morning and I haven chosen not to proofread this; I apologize.

Hello everyone! I hope you are all happy and well! I cannot believe September is already here and that summer is almost over for all of you, but not for me! : ) I am sorry I have not written in awhile. I spent almost eleven days in Kampala and Mityana with inservice training. It was long, but part of it was spent on language training and it was good to find out what I had been saying wrong and find out how to say things I have been needing to say.


I was invited by my village chairman to an introduction ceremony a couple of weeks back. An introduction ceremony is an event where, once a couple wants to get married, the woman introduces her fiance to her family. We, I dragged my friend Rachelle along, arrived at the chairman’s house around one, escorted by one of my students and sat around with other guests of honor eating food. The chairman then brought us all beers, giving me the warmest Guinness I have ever had. We then move to the ceremony which consisted of the wedding party sitting in front. The woman and the man both had their own MCs. The man’s side was what you expect out of a MC, but the woman’s side had two and they enjoyed drinking quite a bit. The ceremony was in Luganda so I did not understand most of what was happening, but it seemed to consist of a bunch of different groups of people dancing out and greeting the wedding party while the MCs from each side talked with one another through the microphones. During this, a large gourd of sorts that is made to hold the local brew is brought out. Local brew is one of the most potent things I have ever tasted in my life. I would never trust myself to drink a whole glass of it. There was a woman sitting next to me who loved it and she would interrupt the ceremony poring herself more local brew and spilling it all over the place. Throughout the ceremony she would get up and sit by the bride or dance around the stage. It was outrageous. The couple was given many gifts that included a rooster and a cow. I only knew about the cow because I was dragged out into a field to take a picture with it. Around nine o’clock all the greeting was finally over and it was finally time to dance. I am obsessed with dancing in this country and I am in love with Ugandan music. We danced with the LC and eighty year old woman who were chugging beers. The chairman kept handing us beers and tots (horrible vodka in a bag), but there was no way we could or wanted to drink it all so we kept shoving them in the pockets of Rachelle’s dress. More people started getting incredibly intoxicated. One man wondered aimlessly around until he fell into a group of people relaxing. Another sat next to Rachelle and fell asleep on her shoulder. I was taking tots away from ten year old kids on the dance floor. It was out of control and by eleven we decided that we needed to get out of there. Overall though, I had a really great time; it was great to have fun with my village.

Over the years I have heard stories about spiders and such laying eggs under a human’s skin and then hatching. I never knew whether or not I could actually believe these stories or not. Some say this is a urban myth, but I now know better. For about a month I had what I thought was a blister between my big and second toe. I showed Lisandro and he proceeded to inform me that I had jigger. Meaning, that a jigger, whatever that is, had laid eggs under my skin. He gets a needle and opens my skin and squeezes the egg sack out. I should be grossed out, but I am not. I think it is kind of awesome.

Dad I have bad news; I was wrong. You cannot drink water from the pond using the ceramic filter. When I first came to Kiyumba I was using a solution to purify my water that I was collecting from the rain tanks. However, once I started getting my water from the open well I started to use a ceramic filter because there was lots of sediment. I was telling a Amanda this and she informed me that the filter only removes sediment, not the parasites. I went home and read the instructions and sure enough she was right. May I remind my readers that my open well is partially supplied by a swamp; I have been drinking water from a swamp without it first being treated. The part that really gets me is that I have yet to be sick. On top of that, I have been giving that water to all of my visitors as well. Jackie, you were smart to buy bottled water. Sam, if you ended up sick you now know why. I apologize.

My Ugandan friend Carol has always told me that she does not want to become small. However, the other day she was over and Lisandro was teaching her how to cook a pizza. She was amazed that we do not cook with oil and said that she too is no longer going to cook with oil. I told her that if she did not cook with oil she would become small. She replied by saying that she now wants to be American size. I could not believe what I was hearing and asked her why she wanted to be small. She said, “Because you people are very portable.” I laughed for awhile and asked her what that means, but she couldn’t tell me. I love Carol; she is always making me laugh.

A few of you already know, but for those of you who don’t, I will be returning to the states at the end of September for a couple of weeks for my best friend’s wedding. I am so excited to see friends and family; it has been too long! I will write again when I return the to Uganda the first week in October!


Peace and love,

Autumn

p.s. I wrote the previous a week ago, but have not been able to get to town due to riots across the Buganda region (the region in which I live) to post. On Thursday Riots started in Kampala and by Friday they had made their way to Nyendo and Masaka (maybe 9K from my home). My friend Lisandro and a visitor had to have a police escort out of his home in Nyendo. There were fires, gunshots, and total chaos. I do not have time to explain the situation in full, but it seems as though the next two years leading up to the next presidential election will be intense. I am posting a link explaining the situation, but in my next post I will explain more and what it could potentially mean for me and Peace Corps Uganda.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8249812.stm

http://www.independent.co.ug/index.php/uganda-talks-/for-the-international-audience-the-kampala-riots-explained.html

Hello everyone! I hope this message finds you all happy and well! I cannot believe we are already half way through August. I have heard that it is hot; I hope you are all staying nice and cool in your air conditioned homes. As for me, I often find myself rather chilly. Fancy that.

Carol and Kennedy are home from school and I could not be happier! If you do not remember, Carol is the girl that was asked to babysit me when I first arrived here in Kiyumba. Both her and Kennedy attend the teachers college for whom I work and have been at school for the past two few month, but now they are on holiday. Not only are they hilarious, they are a huge help. After talking with many students about the lack of school fees and their fears about not being able to attend another year of school I realized that I really need to focus on doing both an income generating project, specifically for women, as well as a village savings and loans. I have been procrastinating a bit on both for a couple of reasons. The first being that I feel that it is important for my village to know and trust me before I am able to initiate these projects. However, I know feel that I am at this point. My second reason is that I have failed to find someone that would work with me. Because I am not anywhere close to being fluent in Luganda it is important for me to work with someone in the village who is fluent in both Luganda and English. While there are about a handful of people that know some amount, it is not nearly enough. However, eighteen year old Carol is fluent in both. I brought up the idea of starting the village savings and loans and I did not even have to ask her to help me. Immediately she said, “Nalubega that is great! We will contact the LC and he will call everyone to a meeting for us to explain the program to everyone.” I am so happy to have Miss Carol back in Kiyumba!

Over the years I have met several people that have thought their birthday was a national holiday. Others who not only had a birthday, but more of a celebrating not only a day, but for a full week opening a present each day. The other day my friend Lisandro celebrated his birthday and had made a comment about starting the year off right. I found it funny that unlike everyone else who considers New Year's Day to be the beginning of a new year, he considers his birthday to mark the new year. Things are different here in Uganda. The other day I asked my friend Kennedy when his birthday was and he told me, “It is soon approaching. It is June 26th.” I said, “Kennedy, it is August. June was two months ago.” He started laughing and said, “I guess I forgot my birthday.” Today I asked my friend Carol when her birthday was and she started laughing. She got her phone out and started looking at the calender and said, “Ummm, I don’t remember. I think it was in May. Yes, May 26.” Now, I know there are times when I get confused about if I am twenty-three or twenty-four, but I do not think I would ever forget my birthday. It’s your birthday for crying out loud! Perhaps all the celebrating we do for our birthdays in America makes up for the lack there of here in Uganda.

When I first arrived in Uganda the country director for Peace Corps Uganda was warning us about the amount of frustration we will endure as volunteers. He said, “If Uganda didn’t have these problems that frustrated us we wouldn’t be here.” This week I have been trying to remind myself of this. The education system here is a complete disaster and living at a primary school I see this first hand. The Ministry of Education, teachers, head teachers, parents, they are all setting their children up for failure. The Ministry never pays the teachers which requires children to pay outrageous fees that they are unable to pay. The teachers fail to assess children, use teaching methods other than lecture, teach in English when students will be tested in English, they beat the children for things such as wrong answers, and they have no relationship with the children nor do they communicate with the parents. The head teacher never shows up to school to supervise nor do they have anymore education than a regular teacher, which may be no more than a secondary education. Lastly, the parents are not involved in their child’s education; they never visit the school, contact teachers, or ask questions about their child’s education. For the past two to three weeks the children have done absolutely nothing. I mentioned that some were practicing the past couple of weeks for the open day ceremony, but not all of them. I assumed that this week they would get back to work, but it is not the case. The children arrive at school at eight and play until five when it is time to go home. The cook has not been here for the past week so children cook lunch for the teachers and their children, but they, themselves, go hungry. The upper classes have had exams the past couple of days and one of the teachers delegated Carol to grade the papers for him. I intercepted them and was incredibly disappointed to see their scores. Out of fifty marks, children were scoring twos and eights. As a teacher, if over half of my class was failing I would feel incredibly guilty for failing my students, but teachers here blame the children for not being bright.

There are about ten children that I know rather well and they can usually be found at my house when they are not in class. I think the teachers get annoyed by the fact that I would enjoy spending time with the children and that I am so well liked by the children. The teachers teach their classes, make the students fetch water for them, wash their clothes and dishes, and take care of their children. However, I do these things for myself and enjoy spending time with the children. Today I had a teacher who I really like come up to me while I was playing a game with some kids including Bonny and Martin. She looked at me and said, “These two are your best friends?” Teachers always do this when they have a problem with a child. They cannot take care of the problem themselves so they make it out to sound like it is my problem because they are my “friends.” Anyway, she reminded them that they were not to be seen with one another any longer. I was baffled they are best friends and both incredibly great kids. I have never had a problem with either one of them and while Bonny is rather bright naturally, Martin tries to learn and always reminds me of how much he wants to learn. This teacher informed me that Martin is “destroying” Bonny. That Martin has very bad manners and never does as his teachers ask. Apparently during the exams he had Bonny do his for him. She was also mad because during school Bonny and Martin always go to his house instead of staying at school. I was incredibly shocked to hear about Martin having bad manners because he always does as I ask and always offers to do things for me. I am not surprised about them going to his house during school because the students are never in class. Why would you stay at school where you have no food and you are not learning anything? As for Bonny doing the exam for him I guess I understand that as well. Martin wants to succeed, but under the circumstances unless you are incredibly bright you cannot succeed in this school system. I was asking the teacher if she has talked with Martin about these issues to find out if something else has been going on and she said no that they have think that he doesn’t want to learn. I said, “He told you that?” She said, “No, I just know.” I asked if she had contacted his parents and she said that she had talked with his father awhile back. I told her that I thought she should follow up and she does not see the point. Now let me tell you something else about Martin and his life. Martin’s mother runs a small shop in town that sells alcohol. I have never walked past that store and not seen at least five drunk men sitting there all day long. On top of that, Martin is usually left to run the store when he is not at school. Martin a) probably realizes that if he doesn’t preform well in school this will be his life and b) he’s a sixteen year old boy who spends most of his free time with drunks; how do you think he is going to behave? Tell me how keeping his best friends, who is a good influence, away from him is going to help anyone. If they insist on this I guarantee Martin will not be back in school next term. What is most frustrating is that she kept mentioning what a good student Martin was last year and how well he was doing, but at the same time she doesn’t believe that there could be something else going on to make him behave in this way. I try to remind myself that America didn’t always have a great educational system. It still is far from perfect, but we are coming. Uganda, in a way, is like America sixty years ago. America has come a long way in the past sixty years and I pray that one day Uganda’s educational system will be where we are today. Things take time. I just hate waiting when I am so invested in these children and want so many great things for them. Sometimes I wish I could run a school here with American teachers to show them how things could be, even without money.

Who gets to decide what is beautiful and what is not? In America we hear a lot about body image and there has been a push to try to influence the entertainment business into displaying a diverse group of people. The other day I was talking to Martin and somehow he started talking about how my skin was beautiful because it was white. When I told him his skin was beautiful he told me I was lying and that only white skin is beautiful. Even after I told him all the disadvantages of having white skin such as sun burns, skin caner, and the fact that I am always visibly dirty in this country he still insisted that mine was much more beautiful. I was heartbroken. Martin is a sixteen year old boy that lives deep in the village. Who told him that white skin was beautiful? To my knowledge, he doesn’t have access to entertainment as we do in the western world, but perhaps it goes way back to colonialism. Martin is not the only person I have had this conversation with it happens often and each time I wish they would truly believe me when I tell them that they are beautiful. I always try to explain to them how much I love to photograph them because of the way the sun always reflects off of their skin, but they do not believe me.

The other day a girl in secondary school brought be a book of poems to explain an English word she did not know. She said, “My teacher is an expert in English, but even she has failed to know this word.” The word was “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

A student of mine, Paol, is leaving Kiyumba for the holiday to earn some money fishing with his father in Entebbe. Paol has been worried that the other children will know more English than him because they will have me to practice with during holiday. I gave Paol my English/Luganda dictionary and told him to write down important words and their meanings to study while he is gone. He started doing so, but then got called away and I had to leave for town. I brought the paper to him and he got this worried look on his face and said, “But Madam Nalubega, I am missing a word.” The word he was worried about not having was “wizard.” WIZARD! Seriously? WIZARD! How often in everyday conversation does one use the world “wizard”? I would say that for Americans not too many people would complain if we decided to remove it from the dictionary. Who knows though, this is a rather superstitious culture perhaps it is an important word.

Uganda is a rather conservative culture when concerning dress. I cannot even imagine what would happen if I ever wore something short enough to see my knees in the village. I have a picture in an album where some friends from home and I went camping and we are all wearing shorts and the kids are absolutely shocked. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but now I am starting to get self conscious about the fact that these kids have seen my knees. A friend donated a Cosmo Girl magazine for me to cut up to make beads. I had torn the pages out and the wind had blown them all over my house. I picked most of them up, but there were some I had forgotten about. The worst picture was a page where they had six celebraties wearing two different things and readers were asked to choose which one they preferred. In each picture the girl was either wearing a thong swimsuit or a skimpy swimsuit. I almost died. It was as if I just introduced these fifteen year old boys to porn. I can only imagine what Ugandans have to think of Americans after all the movies and magazines they see of us.

I am not fat. I know that. Most people know that. I am not self conscious about being fat (because I am not), but come on people, give me a break! They love calling me fat here. It’s actually more that they like to tell me that I have become fat since I have moved here which is not true; or maybe it is and I just haven’t realized it because my clothes are all stretching out. Could this be a situation like my freshman year of college where me and my entire dorm got fat and blamed our clothes not fitting on how hot the dyers in the basement got? Not noticing how much we “porked out,” as Jess’ mom later informed us, until we saw pictures of ourselves? Anyway, back to the point. The other day it got brought up with thirteen year old Frank, him calling me fat that is. I told him that it makes me sad to hear that and that if I am fat no one in America will like me. Of course I was joking, but he didn’t know this. Frank, with the most serious face I have ever seen on him, says, “But Nalubega, for you, you are fat. You enjoy Uganda’s food.” I get it, it’s a cultural thing, but what about this little thing known as tact. You know I don’t enjoy being called fat and that while we both understand that it is a compliment in Uganda I have told you a thousand times that it is a negative thing for Americas so lay off; I am not fat. Bless the American who ever comes to my village and is a bit sensitive about their weight.

Again, I hope all is well with you! Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to take an interest in my life here in Kiyumba!

Peace and love,

Autumn

P.S. Mandy, Jacob, and Michelle thank you so much for the wonderful things you sent! You are all wonderful and I appreciate the time and effort it took you to do so!

Hello everyone! I hope this message finds you all happy and well! I cannot believe that August is already here!

At the beginning of my English classes I have my students write a journal entry. While I think it is a great way to give them practice writing, I often dread this part of the class. Children in Uganda are taught in a way that is so different then we are taught in the states and getting them to do anything that does not involve remote memorization is like pulling teeth. I started out by giving them a question to answer such as what do you do before you come to school? I would give them an example of what I did before I came to school. After explaining it to the whole class a couple of times I would go around to each of the five groups and explain it again. After that I would then go around to individual students and ask them things like, “Do you fetch water? Do you greet your mother and father? Do you put on your uniform?” I then began giving them a word bank to choose vocabulary from and explaining everything in both English and Luganda. It really did not make much of a difference. Yesterday I asked them what they would like to do after they finished secondary school and in the word bank I put possible careers along with other options. Over half of the class’ entry went something like this, “I want to be a shop keeper. I want to be a driver. I want to be a doctor. I want to be a singer. I want to be a dancer. I want to be a priest. I want to go to university. I want to be a teacher. I want to be a farmer.” I was thinking a bit about this and why they would answer this question in this way and I came up with two reasons. The first being that from the time they begin school they are taught to memorize sentence structures. For example, I cannot tell you how many times I hear classes repeat “I see a boat. I see a car. I see a house. I see a person.” When the children master reading this out loud the teacher says, “Great they can read.” It is clearly memorization. If you ask the child what they just read means they could not tell you. If you changed the sentence structure they could not “read” the words. My second hypothesis is that children are never asked or given the chance to think about their future. As Americans from a very early age in life we are asked what we want to be when we grow up. When we say we want to be a doctor, a singer, or the president, we are encouraged. This simply is not the case here. It seems that most children assume that their future will be the same as that of their parents a farmer or a shop keeper.

I have talked with my counterpart about the issue of memorization and the lack of creativity and critical thinking in the education system and we are planning to hold a workshop with teachers after the holiday. I have been doing some research, but if you have any ideas of activities I could do in my class or share with the teachers please be sure to let me know.

While my Luganda is improving, my English is slowly deteriorating. I was grading my students papers the other day and I starting getting confused whether or not what they were writing was correct. For example, almost all of them would put that they lived at Kiyumba instead of in Kiyumba. I had to ask a friend if using at was correct. I can no longer spell anything. Now, the children at Discovery Middle School where I student taught would tell you that I was never very good at spelling in the first place, but it has gotten much worse. I was trying to write the word doctor the other day and I could not figure out how to spell it. This sort of thing happens all the time and I often find myself with my face in my dictionary. I fear my life after Uganda.



The other day my school had an open day in which they invited the community and political leaders in the community. They have been preparing for this event for the past few weeks which means that the children have not been in class. Instead they have been making crafts and singing. Those who were not involved with this project spent their day playing football or practicing multiplication at my house. I found this whole even rather frustrating. Music, crafts, and P.E. are all part of the curriculum, but it is never taught at the school. Now they have this event and they do nothing but these things. If they would have been teaching these courses all along these children would have had time for learning core subjects as well these past few weeks. Also, why aren’t all the children involved? Here they tend to pick out students who have “ability” and only those ones are allowed to participate. The invitation I received for this event invited the public to come see what their children learn at school. I found this quite amusing. It should have said, “Come see what some of your children have been doing in the past two weeks.” The day of the event I invited Lisandro, the Peace Corps volunteer that lives nearest me, to come. The day was long, but for the most part entertaining. Many people gave speeches and talked about me for a while, it was in Luganda so I am not sure exactly what they were saying. I smiled and nodded as if agreeing. I can only hope that they were saying good things; Fredrick assures me that they were. Towards the end of the event the children were singing their last song, a catchy number in local language wishing us all farewell. I soon noticed that in the song the were calling out the names of certain “important” guest to come up and dance a bit. Lisandro and I are enjoying the performance and then the Vicar leans over and tells me that they are calling me up to dance. Thankfully Lisandro was kind enough to come up with me and we danced in front of the entire village. The village thought it was great because they are always surprised when the find out I can do anything. They honestly do not think muzungus know how to do anything, but be a doctor. After the ceremony we get escorted to the important peoples’ room to eat more expensive food than the villagers. I hate when this happens. The villagers got beans, rice, and sweet potatoes which are some of my favorite foods. I on the other hand was served beef and rice. The most important people were served chicken.

Yesterday I went for a run and on my way back I stopped to greet some villagers at the shop. They immediately said, “Nalubega, you know how to run?” After explaining that yes, I do know how to run. They then continued to tell me that I was becoming fat. I found this rather interesting because I am not becoming fat, but also because can you imagine coming back from a run in states and someone telling you that you are becoming fat? They would tell you the opposite to encourage you. But here in Uganda things are different. If you are big you are considered beautiful. It is a sign of wealth, showing that you can afford to eat. They are shocked when I tell them that I do not want to become big, but seem to accept it when I tell them that if I become big that I will have to buy new clothes and that I do not have money.
When a child in America loses a parent we call it a tragedy. When a child in Uganda loses a parent they call it life. One of students that I am the closest to is Bonny. He is an amazing child. He is smart and eager to learn. He has great manners and is just a great kid to be around. The other day I was talking with him and he told me that both of his parents are dead and that he lives with his seventy-four year old grandfather. Another student, Irene, has also lost both of her parents and is living with her grandmother. Most of the time I speak with students and they tell me that they have lost at least one of their parents. I have chosen to speak about Bonny and Irene because they are constantly amazing me. They are beautiful children who I believe will do great things if they are given the opportunity, which is something hard to come by here in Uganda.

Recently I had a friend from home write me an e-mail and she told me that she would not even have a clue as to how to do half of the things I do here. It got me thinking about what it means to be an American and living in another country has definitely given me the opportunity to see how incredibly lucky we are. I would say that most Americans could easily do the things I am doing here in Uganda. As Americans there are many things that we do and that we expect that all people can easily do. We assume that if there is a problem that there is a solution. While we may not know the solution we most likely know how to find the solution. We understand how important communication is and most people find a means to do so. I cannot tell you how many times there has been a problem here which is the direct result of no communication. We understand the importance of showing up for work and doing your best. We believe that people should be held accountable for their work and majority of people hold themselves accountable. We know how to think critically and we love to ask “why?” While many feel that politicians are corrupt in comparison to the corruption elsewhere in the world we have nothing to worry about. We have hope for the future. As children we are told that we can be anything we want to be and I believe that for Americans that is pretty realistic. A majority of us do not have to worry about becoming an orphan. We do not have to worry about finding clean drinking water or water in general. My point to all of this is twofold. First, as Americans we know how to do things and we do not even realize it. I would say that I am a rather average American. I’m not incredibly smart or creative, but here, in comparison, I am because as a product of the American school systems I have been taught to think in a way that people in Uganda have not been taught to do. There are some very bright Ugandans, but they have no idea what to do with their intelligence. I have a friend here named Peace and every time I tell her I am going to do something she tells me that it is impossible. I love showing her she is wrong and that I am able to do most things I try because I find a way. My second point of all of this remember how privilege you are. I feel that Americans catch a lot of slack, but be proud you are an American. You do not realize how talented you are and how much you know how to do until you live in a country that has not been taught to do much more than memorize. I stopped refruting when Ugandans tell me that I am rich. They are right. Materially I have more than they probably will ever have in their lives and I do not even have a job. The amount of resources and privileges I have is incomparable to theirs. My education, not even counting university, far surmounts theirs. No matter how much or little you feel you have, you are rich.

Anyway, I apologize if this is just a bunch of rambling. It is a product of my writing in an internet cafe. I hope you are happy and well!

Peace and Love,

Autumn