Day 4

jungle road to the school

one of nursery children

sick child on the sick mat

toilet - squat here

collect your drinking water here

wise guys

back to school we go

native hut

gotcha

playground

a kitchen

a standard house

Day  4

The best thing about waking up here is the promise to work pretty immediately.  You wake up at 6, get your brain sorted out, send some emails before people go to sleep in America, and hang out and wait. It actually is like the best time to get things done, because the air is a bit cooler, the wifi is rocking and we can set our game plan for today.

However on this particular morning, Father said Mass very early and showed up right on time with a special treat.  He brought Vincent and Maria to the Maria Flo so that we can interview them and get a picture of their needs here, their plans for the future, and so that we can get a feel for their strengths and weaknesses.  We were impressed by their abilities and their enthusiasm.  Vincent is still trying to get into the seminary but a definite decision has yet to be made, so we are still excited that his wonderful involvement and his compassion and commitment to the children through his works with Art 4 God will remain for the time being.  Maria has always been the go to girl, learning and developing her characteristics of ministry development and leadership.  We are hoping to get both of these wonderful people out to America soon to learn from the business men and women, and then leaders in ministry in Uganda.

We ended up leaving Vincent there, and picking up a young man named Charles, and soccer Francis and we headed out for our day.  First stop was at Orange to help solve our internet issues.  Orange is comparable to what would happen if Americans had one real cell service, and the other tiny services were total garbage.  If you want cell service or internet service you go Orange.  We grabbed a modem/wireless router combo to try out and then from them and were off and on our way to Buterbrere.  (And yes, I will spell this 101 different ways by the end of my letter J)

Now the school should take 15 minutes to get there, but of course there are potholes and it rained this morning around 5 so there are literally rivers carved out of the center of these mud hole roads.  We are trying to drive uphill, and slipping and sliding and scaring the heck out of us.  I was ready to just get out and walk but the brush is hanging over the roads, and rivers are running down both sides of the road, and right down the middle.  However, I will say that the mist driving through the eucalyptice jungle was amazing to see, and the air smelled great.  At around an hour of driving, we made it up the mountain to the school.

Two things of note before I go on:  1. Your anti-malaria medication makes you very sensitive to sunlight, and we are on top of a mountain after a storm with crystal clear blue skies.  2.  When Father drives through the mud, mud gets all of the side of the car, so if you do not jump out of the car, but merely slide with your 8000 lbs of gear that you must take out at every stop, you get mud all over the backs of your legs.

Now Butebrebre (J) is the school that the Montgomery Catholic Preparatory School System is supporting through Mass collections, special donations, etc.  The school falls under the Diocesan Youth Office and is on the same land as our pineapple farm.  If a school is built on Diocesan land, that just means that you are leasing the property, and that you promise to use the Diocesan policy for education.  Each school is different in size, ability to function, the types of properties they are on, and they get no financial support.  And that is where some generous people who have heard about the school stepped up and made this a priority of Montgomery Catholic, and therefore the priority of Nap, Jeff, and I.  When I left Holy Spirit Campus on Thursday AM, Ms. Ceasar told me to let those children at Butterbe know that children and youth in Montgomery AL loved them and cared for them and pray for them, and that they have raised $2000 for the school for some huge improvements.

Well again, when we pulled up, it looked awesome compared to Arthur’s school.  Arthur’s school has holes in the walls, missing wall corners, shreds of fabric for curtains, etc.  This had stucco walls and cut windows and doorways (though no doors).  However, when we walked through, we were shocked by the disarray.  Their floor is literally sharp jagged rock sticking out of packed soil.  Instead of awesome wooden tables with attached benches like Arthur’s school, there some very severe jagged and uneven benches and no desks. Period.  So these poor angels sit and listen to the lesson, and then in their bare knees, kneel on this knife rock ground.  How can any child write numbers in straight lines if all they can think about is their empty stomach and their bleeding knees.  For the love of God, do you know how many times I have just extra wood on the curb from my garden building projects?!?  And there are child who would kill for something to write or kneel on.  And education is the only out for them, so this is their hope and their future and they bleed through it every day.  Unacceptable.  Period.

Part of our partnership with this school is having a picture of every child and teacher, along with their ages (not birthdates because a lot of the children did not even know how old they were) and how far they walked, through the jungle we just drove straight up hill through, every day.  This way, every child at Montgomery Catholic can know have a picture, and a name, and pray for that child in Masaka.

So as Nap and Jeff took measurements, and Francis went into town to find a builder, Maria and I took every picture and saved it with the childs name, áge, and distance as the name of the file.  Then came interviews with all of the 3 teachers (2 with Maria translating) and the 3^rd teacher is also the headmaster.  So as I sat in 1 of four classrooms, in very dark classrooms (no lights) I was startled to hear a little shriek.  Apparently, the bonus of children going to school is that both parents can farm the land and work the grounds or sell or whatever their jobs in their little village are.  So, sick or not, the children HAVE to go to school, and on a very dirty little mat in the corner were three toddlers that all had fevers and who were passed out.  Again, OMG.  The headmaster teaches all day, runs the school and takes care of other people’s sick babies.  No wonder why at 10 AM she looked exhausted.

I sat down with her one-on-one and introduced myself.  I am 33 (she is 28), I have 5 kids (she has 4 – and all are students), and the school is broke, her teachers have need more training and there are no teaching materials.  What she needs for the inside of the classrooms – to even make learning happen is books and curriculum.  I instantly pictured the Elizabeth Ann Seton Homeschool curriculum for third grade that I just tossed.  I am soooooo dumb.  A homeschool package that send you the books, and your curriculum and schedule done for you would be perfect, and the teachers only need one set per class to make sure they are teaching the right things, and so they can glean teaching tools, can see how professionals all over the world do it.  If I had $300-$400 per set for the 5 classes, I would buy it in a heart beat.  Maybe I could write Seton, and all of the homeschool groups I know and ask them if they could donate the previous year’s curriculums and books and show them what they kids deal with.  Maybe they will step.  She has a heart for her job, and she cares, but she has the weight of these concerns, and the weight of the world on her back and you can see it in her face.

Last year she had 40 more kids, but as kids get older, and the economy tanks, and the growing seasons come and go with small crops, parents are forced to remove their children from a local Catholic school and send them away to government school, which they say is garbage, but they have no option.  I started looking at the group and was thinking, “Wow, there are a ton of girls.”  All girls in school shave their heads, and when I noticed so many girls with no hair, I asked Father, especially because there are so many toddlers with long hair.  The answer is a three-fold response – long hair is a health issue with cleanliness, it is very expensive to care for long hair, and long hair and keeping it fixed takes time and is a distraction in schools were girls could afford it are sitting next to girls that cannot afford more than a piece of bread for lunch.  This is the standard across the entire country.  And no, there are not a lot more girls.  The problem is that they do not have enough boy uniforms, so the kids wear whatever uniforms they have available. Ahhhh.

Anyway, during the time I was conducting interviews and getting practical needs on top of large project needs, Jeff, Nap and Father got tired of waiting for the laborer’s apprentice, so they hiked down to the water with some of the older kids, and carried all of their water back.  The area is too poor and there is too little money coming in, without a huge garden like Arthur’s to provide lunch for all of the students and teachers, so they provide lunch for the teachers, and the students bring their own lunches.  This water that is pictured above is what they drink, and the containers on shelves are their lunch boxes – nothing is cooked, cooled, or wrapped, just a little covered bowl of something. 

When I got done with my surveys on my tablet, I pushed swings, and hugged curious loving children, and my skin began to cook, so by the time I was done reapplying sunscreen, the men were back.  As we were debating money and how we could build a water collection system so they were not always relying on a 1.5 mile hike with 8 year olds carrying huge water jugs uphill, the laborer showed up, but his estimate seemed high, and we messed with their needs, and our money but still could not get enough done with it.  So Father Michael called the diocesan priest in charge of the diocesan construction and asked him to meet us at the school to see if these numbers were too high.

As we waited for Father, we took a walk to see the pineapples and all of the land.  The parishioners at St. Michael’s in Auburn had been donating the money for the growth of the pineapple project for awhile, but we really only had two acres in rotation.  However the land expanses 42 acres, so should we do more, should we plant more and sell to fund other outreach projects, or school projects, or what?  Having had dinner with Noelle our first night in Masaka, we had the name of an excellent man who is already in the pineapple business who is a serious professional businessman.  We called him, arranged a meeting for tonight, and we were excited.

Someone brought us pineapples from the garden, so we each had a slice or two, and this was around 2 pm – so not a make up for a missed breakfast, and too light for a lunch, but typical of our time here.  (I know you love my food commentary.  Don’t worry, what we lack in food, is gained back when we finish our night with something carbonated and probably horrible for you.)

When Father came and met us, he was half the price of the laborer.  And immediately everything was set for the next day. We would get concrete poured, and the gutters up with the new costs that Father had poured.   Now money.  Getting the cash here from Montgomery could be a real issue.  But, a wonderful family in Montgomery set up the funds to be wired here the very next day with the gracious backing of Ms. Ceasar and the Montgomery Catholic community.  You are setting up the futures of a hundreds of children that will come through that school.  Within a day or two, I will have a youtube video up of these kids saying hello to all of you and thanking you, if it is possible.  I can at least get something recorded, and post back in town or whatever.

Info Tip #4:  Now when you walk into a place like a village or school or anywhere, they stare at you like you have five heads, or run up and hug you, or yell Muzungo and wave, or just smile at you like they find your very existence amusing.  You better have candy anywhere in public, but especially at a school.  We also had pencils, and sharpeners just like at Arthur’s school, and when they receive them, they kneel and/or bow (depending on your sex) and say thank you without making eye contact. (half of the 200 pencils we had were donated by a homeschooling mom who I am forever indebted too.)  And I think we had 40 lbs of candy, and out of my 6 bags alone, two were from another dear friend of mine.

Now the meeting with Fred went very well.  He had driven all of the way from Kampala to meet us, and every word he said was gold.  We have been so blessed by Father’s ability to connect us to the best Catholic people to do each job we have needed to accomplish – they are very learned, brilliant businessmen, and wonderful at their jobs.  We have not had a bad meeting yet.  Some have been frustrating, but all have ended with them pointing us to the path that best suites us. We are BLESSED.  And I am sure that is because of your prayers and sacrifices. 

After this meeting, we had decided that dinner was unnecessary.  We decided to just hang out and each have a pack of trail mix and something to drink.  Father, Nap, Maria, Charles, Jeff, and I hung out in the Maria Flo conference center working on our Association Paper filings. There is a list of things we need to accomplish or provide before we can file as an association, and luckily I can access my homegroup from Uganda and pull files.  So Maria and I worked on something things, while Nap and Jeff and Father goofed of and worked on things.  And then when Father Henry stopped by with more association and land news showed up, we hung out more, getting a ton of things worked through. I love being so productive.  It is like a drug, getting things done, with limited resources, so quickly, is a high.

We ended our night early because of exhaustion, and more work to do, and the power had gone out and we were on a generator.  And by early, I am saying 10:30 PM.  When I got back to the room, I needed a shower, so I turned on the shower, to promptly be electrocuted.  Fingers and palm tingling.  My first thought was maybe I had a ton of scratches on my hands from the pineapple gardens, so I grabbed the other handle and it tingled up my arm.  Huh.  Well, the water was on, but there was no way I was stepping into the shower floor pad (not enclosed at all, just a step.)  So I decided to lean over and wash my hair under the spicket and figure out what was going on.  So I washed my hair, but as I was standing up from the low spicket, I hit the back of my head on the spicket and electrocuted my skull.  Maybe my mom did that to me as a baby and that explains me being crazy.  Now, how to get the water off.  This time I grabbed the handle with a towel and yanked it in circles as fast I could.  No luck, I still got shocked with both handles.  I went down to the desk and she told me not to shower for a few days while she had it looked at.  No new room, no apology, just a look that read, “Deal lady, this is Uganda, you are lucky we have a generator.” What a snot I am, I should be grateful that there is running water and I am not bathing in some mud creek.  And that is the reason I brought 6 packs of handi-santizing wipes.  Those pink packs never looked so great!

Now within the next day, I want your prayer requests.  There are some very Holy prayer places, and I want to go there, and spend an hour reciting prayers on behalf of each of your intentions.  I want to leave these places with ears burning, and God begging, “Please, catch a breath Allison…”  I want to do this for you to thank you for your prayers.  Email me!!!!