THE RAINY SEASON EDITION

Greetings and happy Eid.  To honour the Muslim community for its decent behavior during the genocide it is a national holiday here.  Where national holidays are concerned though we always have to await official confirmation by radio on the morning of the day in question, so you never really know in advance whether you are going to work or not.  But, it's official; no school today. 

Someday when I am writing my memoir I think I might start it with the words (and apologies to Isak Dinesen) "I had a fridge in Africa."   It may not be big, but it's small, and it's cold inside.  Got it from a departing volunteer and just wanted to share my happiness with you all.  The days of warm beer are behind me. Wooohooo!

We're now into the third school term and the beginning of another rainy season.  (is a pattern emerging where I only post blogs at the changing of the seasons?)  I lobbied successfully to be relieved of English teaching this term on the grounds that it is not what I am here to do and was detracting from the hours needed for resource development,  teaching learner centred methods and observing my students doing their practice teaching in the local primary schools. The resource centre is taking shape, and just last week my principal agreed to move it to a larger and in every way better room.  Already we've outgrown the original space, which was starting to look more like a storeroom than anything.  We now have tables and chairs and expect cupboards and shelves any day. Students are eager to make "teaching aids" although many still haven't got the hang of using them to promote active learning.  It's a major departure from anything they have experienced in their own schooling, and it is proving quite challenging to convince them to try out new methods.  Often, they are being advised and evaluated by teachers who themselves are unfamiliar with the range of possibilities that active learning presents, so they are reluctant to try anything "unusual".

August was a good month.  We had a three week interval between terms, so after visiting friends in Rwanda and seeing one off back to the U.S. I took myself away to southwestern Uganda to see what I could see.  I had only the vaguest of plans, thinking mainly to look for someplace to go for day hikes and just wander around that part of the country.  On my first morning there, in the town of Kasese,  I stopped to ask  a woman in a shop for directions to the market.  Within minutes we had established that we share a name, a birthday and a profession.  Being a typically warm and hospitable Ugandan she insisted that I  come right away and visit the primary school for orphans that she has started, then pick up my stuff from the dodgy hotel I was staying in and come stay with her and assorted orphans large and small in her tiny two rooms behind the shop. 
Jen is just one example of the many extraordinary, strong women who are pretty much the glue holding things together here.  She is quite concerned about the sustainability of her school and the futures of the orphans if or when  she is not able to be there.  She has a small farm and a piece of land nearby where she would like to re-locate the school.  It is several hours travel from Kasese, near Mbarara.  The farm already supplies most of the food for the orphans but it has to be transported a long way.  The house on the farm has been designed to accommodate a lot of kids.  She envisions four classrooms to start. All she needs now is some money and some volunteers who know a bit about construction. Any takers?

Her school in Kasese is called Rock Primary School because the entire schoolyard is full of boulders, most with motivational sayings painted on them.  They have a little poultry and egg business at the school, run by students, and so I felt right at home among the kids and chickens. The classrooms are full of imaginatively made teaching materials and it's a happy, well-run place.

 Within a couple of days I had met what felt like half the town, including Jen's circle of amazing women friends who are all active in various community and collective initiatives.  I just kind of got absorbed into the community and was included in all sorts of everyday and also not so everyday events.  Like two bride giving away celebrations.  And those who know me at all will be surprised to hear that I even went to mass.  Twice.  Or, was it three times?  It's a blur.  Also spent a weekend in the foothills of the Rwenzoris on a small farm a stone's throw from the Congo. 
Returning to Kasese from there I got tired of waiting for a bus, after a 30 minute motorcycle ride to the main road, so opted for a shared taxi,  a Toyota corolla station wagon containing, it turned out when everyone finally got out, fourteen people plus assorted belongings.  The front seat had two bucket seats and the driver motioned for me to sit in the driver's seat.  Did he want me to drive?  No. Turns out we shared the seat, he drove, I tried to stay out of his way,  and it's a good thing he was sort of a little guy.  The ridiculous thing is, you can have as many people as you can jam into the car in back, but the traffic police will only stop you if you have three people in front.  So, twice the driver abruptly yanked me down across his lap and ordered me to "rest here, there are police."  After we passed them he yanked me back upright again. 

In there somewhere I took a few days to go by myself up to the Fort Portal  area and stayed at a lovely campground at  Nkuruba, a crater lake.  There were monkeys everywhere; red colobus and black and white colobus mostly, living in the  surrounding rain forest.  Best of all was one very recently born b&w colobus, still pure white, tentatively venturing away from it's mama and looking a little wobbly when jumping from branch to branch.  It was a delightful place to swim and hike and just watch the monkeys. 
After saying goodbye to my Ugandan friends I went to spend a few quiet days on an island in Lake Bunyoni.  I've wanted to go there ever since seeing it from afar a few years ago.  Dugout canoes are the preferred means of transport, the bird life is glorious, and the hills surrounding the lake are terraced and green.  It was positively idyllic.  The place where I stayed runs entirely on solar power so no noise, there's a little library, and a comfy place to sit, drink tea, and read away the afternoon while it's raining.  The company was excellent as well, a diverse and interesting mix of backpacker types and volunteers of various stripes.  
Altogether, a most excellent adventure.

Zaza is lovely these days.  Getting greener by the day and the huge jacarandas are blooming.  The road beneath them is a lavender carpet of fallen blossoms.  The sound track of life here is kids chanting their lessons, singing in the fields or the schools, cows, chickens, bicycle bells, kids tearing down the road when school lets out, birds...

*A note to the generous friends who provided school fees for my student, Jean Claude.  He informed me the other day that he came first in his class last term.  He was too modest to mention it, but I was told also that he has been chosen as assistant "head boy"….and to think that he might not have been able to continue without your help.  Cheers to you!  Murakoze cyane.

Hope this finds everyone doing well. 
J