How Kibaale Stole My Heart

This past week we stayed at Kibaale Community Center in the rural Rakai district of Uganda. You might remember from previous posts that I had visited the center twice before on day trips. When I first came to Kibaale, it was not at all what I had expected. I thought it would be more like Pacific Academy only transplanted in Africa. Instead I experienced a bit of a culture shock. It was rustic and rural and I couldn't imagine myself living there. After staying for the week, I have fallen in love with this place. I can already say that my experiences this past week will be the highlight of my time here in Africa and if I ever come back again....I will most definitely be spending more time in Kibaale. It is hard to put into words the impression this place has made on my heart. All I can say is that there is an amazing atmosphere. Every morning the kids are right outside your door, walking to class and playing soccer. Everyone is extremely friendly and you can tell that the kids love being there. Kibaale is home to some of the poorest people in Uganda. It is the neediest students that are sponsored to attend this school. Kibaale is past the electrical grid and beyond paved roads but staying there was like being at the heart of Africa. It was an amazing chance to be directly involved in this project and to interact with the people of this beautiful country. 

We arrived at the center on Sunday night.Our goal for the week was to assist the Kibaale Children's Fund to hand out all the Christmas gifts bought for the 800 children by their sponsors. We were told it would be a crazy busy week. However, in Africa nothing ever happens the way you expect it to. Monday morning we found out that the KCF staff needed to help with interviews for next years nursery students so there would be no work for us. After a leisurely breakfast, we decided to take a hike up Kibaale hill. Before that we asked Carina if she would take us over to James' class so my dad could meet him and we could drop off the donations we had brought over. The special unit class was in the middle of an exam so we couldn't stay for long but Dad got to meet James which was a really neat experience. Just like when I had visited last month, James was very shy but clearly happy to see us. The hike was really fun and there was an amazing view of the entire school as well as Kibaale town. We could even see as far as Tanzania. It was great to see the area, get some exercise and do something different (in Masaka our default activity is lounging at the pool - no complaints!). 

Tuesday we finally got to help out by putting together some gift baskets. We also got to walk into town to order some more supplies from the store Thom Kalema's. Once the baskets were put together we helped hand them out to some vocational students. I was in charge of calling out the names and they all had a good laugh as I butchered the pronunciations.

Wednesday was our busiest day as we found out that money had been donated for 300 more gift baskets! We got up to the office early in the day and started assembling in record time. After finishing up the baskets, Ken arranged to borrow some motorcycles and we had a chance to ride out to a local lake. It was a great adventure seeing more of the countryside and how people live in the area. After our ride we grabbed some lunch and then I went up to the KCF office to help with some administrative tasks. Just before dinner we got a chance to take some gift baskets and a soccer ball up to James' home and visit his family. Getting up to his house was quite a drive and even then we had to hike a ways into the bush. The first person we met was his grandmother who was very appreciative of our gifts. She kept grabbing our hands and kneeling in front of us saying thank-you over and over again in Lugandan. James was hiding in the house and it took awhile to get him to come out. His eyes lit up at the sight of the soccer ball. His grandmother told us through the translator that this would be his favorite part of our gift. As we were chatting James' brothers and sisters arrived from collecting water. Dad spent some time talking back and forth with the grandmother through a translator, finding out more about the family and where they live. As you can see from the picture below, they have a very small house with no windows and a dirt floor. The grandmother is caring for all the children as the mother has died and the father is not around. James walks 4.5 kilometers to get to school every day but his teacher shared with us how much he loves being at school and how he never wants to go home. It was an eye-opening experience seeing how these people live. It is almost unbelievable. Right out of a World Vision commercial. But these are no longer faces on my t.v. screen. These are people right in front of me. Barely clothed children who walk miles everyday to collect water and grandmothers who do back-breaking work everyday to provide for their grandchildren. It is an experience that has definitely affected my perspective on life. 

That night we walked into town to go for dinner at Hajits. This small restaurant is run by a little old Muslim lady. She had made us chicken, rice, fish and fries along with some cultural dishes of matoke and cassava. For those of you who have been to FFHM in Mexico, it was a similar experience as going to Rolly's. Walking back from the restaurant was another amazing experience that is hard to put into words. It was like walking through an old western town. The shops lining the streets were lit up by oil lamps and street vendors cooked over open fires, making the air smoky. Music was playing and the streets were full of people walking around or socializing. We stopped walking just after the bridge, turned off our flashlights and looked up at the night sky, watching the fireflies. It was breathtaking.

Thursday morning we had a chance to visit Alisha's sponsor child's home. Again, it was quite the experience visiting another home in this rural area, to see how people live. Afterwards we packed up and headed back to Masaka.

The Timothy Center is a beautiful place but it is very isolated in comparison to the Kibaale Center. I loved being within walking distance of the town, exploring the countryside on a motorcycle and hiking up Kibaale hill. The school there is well established and the heart of the PAOS mission in Uganda. Visiting James' home has made me realize what a difference you can make in sponsoring a child. Not only does James have the opportunity to attend school and get an education, but we are also supporting his entire family and giving them an opportunity for a better life. I can say from experience that seeing these people in person changes your perspective on what we have to offer. $30 a month is less than my cell phone bill. Can I afford to drink three Starbucks a week instead of five? Our small sacrifices can make a huge difference in the lives of people on the other side of the world. 

morning assembly for primary students

kids who followed us up Kibaale hill

students receiving gift baskets

waiting for supplies at Thom Kalema's

all the gift baskets we helped put together

some boys in James' neighborhood...captured by Alisha's dad during our home visit 

being followed back to the vehicle after visiting James' home

James writing an exam

at the top of Kibaale hill

right outside our front door - this is why I love Kibaale!

off on a motorcycle adventure

James' family (step-grandfather, grandmother and siblings)

The Country of a Thousand Hills and Place of Many Little Birds

It has taken me awhile to actually sit down and write this blog post. The delay is for many reasons. First of all, things have been very busy since we’ve been back with all sorts of activities and get togethers. Secondly, I haven’t been feeling too well so your prayers would be much appreciated. Thirdly, going to Rwanda was a very moving experience in many ways. It has taken some time to process everything I have seen and done.

My Dad recently quoted the opening line in A Tale of Two Cities, ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times’, to describe our weekend trip. I have to agree with that conclusion. Rwanda is an absolutely beautiful country. It is known as the country of a thousand hills and that is a very accurate description. Here in Masaka, the landscape is hilly but Rwanda in comparison has mountains. My eyes were glued to the window as we wound our way through the hills and valleys filled with plantations of tea, sugar cane and rice. Driving down to Kigali took an entire day. From Masaka to the border is about 4 ½ hours. We spent two hours at the border getting exit stamps from Uganda, Rwandan entrance visas, exporting and then importing the vehicle. It is an absolutely ridiculous process but worth the wait. Once in Rwanda, it took 1 ½ hours to reach the capital city of Kigali. We were booked to stay in budget accommodations because of how expensive it was to simply cross the border. When we arrived at the One Love Club and saw their cave-like rooms, we decided to find somewhere else to stay. Dad was a great navigator and we managed to find a mid-range hotel to stay at. Well worth the extra dollars. That night we went to a restaurant that had been recommended by Sue and Mark called ‘Heaven’. When we arrived they were still setting up the tables. We sat down anyways and waited for a server. A nice American lady came over and apologized for not having things set up and explained that they weren’t open until 5:30pm. We were quite puzzled because our clocks said 6pm. She kindly informed us that there is a time change when you cross over into Rwanda and we were an hour ahead. Good thing we got that sorted out sooner rather than later.

driving into Kigali

walking on the clean sidewalk from our hotel to the restaurant

moon over Kigali city at Heaven restaurant

Saturday morning we ate a later breakfast and went over to the Genocide Museum in Kigali. They had several exhibits including a very detailed account of the Rwandan genocide as well as information on other genocides throughout history. One of the most poignant moments for me was when I  walked through a display of clothes that had been found on victims. One little sweater had the logo ‘I Heart Ottawa’. It is unbelievable to think that a sweater, most likely bought for some kid in Ontario, made its way to Africa as second hand clothing and ended up on a child who was massacred during the Rwandan genocide. By the time I reached the third exhibit I was quite overwhelmed by all the information along with graphic pictures and video. It was infuriating to read about how the rest of the world stood by and allowed these atrocities to take place. The French government even supplied the Interahamwe (Hutu youth army) with weapons. These men, women and children didn’t just die, they were brutally murdered. Men who used HIV as a weapon to infect their female victims were given drugs in jail while these poor women suffered alone in Rwanda. The last bit of the museum had large pictures of children who had died along with a description of who they were and how they were killed. At this point I ran past the photos to the patio outside, desperate for some fresh air and to get away from the horrifying details of what had happened. Once I met back up with everyone we walked through some gardens out to the giant mass graves and memorial listing the names of those who died. As difficult as it was to digest all this information it was definitely an eye-opening experience and one that I will never forget.

From the memorial we headed over to the main shopping mall to check out the African Wal-Mart called Nakumat. It was a much needed distraction after the heaviness of the morning. We stopped in at a coffee shop in the mall which was really nice. From there we headed to a local craft market to look for some souvenirs. Turns out everything is a lot more expensive in Rwanda than Uganda and most of the souvenirs were the same or similar to ones I had found in Kampala. By this point we started re-thinking our original plan to spend two days in the city. We had accomplished everything we had came to do and decided that we would break up our drive home by leaving Kigali the next day. After the craft market, we had one last stop to make. There are many many memorial sites in Rwanda, whether they are marked or not. The entire country was a war zone and I can’t even begin to imagine the atrocities that happened on the same streets we walked down. One place that hasn’t been touched is a church just outside the city. We drove out to Nyamata and came to a small church building decorated with flags. During the genocide thousands of people took refuge in this building, expecting to be protected. Instead, the pastor alerted the Hutu army that there were refugees in his church and every person was massacred. I started shaking as soon as I entered the building and a huge knot formed in my stomach. Laying out on rows and rows of benches were the clothes of those who had been killed. Piles and piles of clothes that were worn by terrified people who thought they had found refuge in a church. The guard led Carina and Alisha down into the basement but I couldn't follow. Later I was informed that there were bones and skulls piled up on display. At that point I felt I had enough gruesome images in my mind and did not need any more. We walked around to the front of the church where there were two large graves which you could walk down into. Although I didn't walk down you could see there were rows and rows of coffins as well as skulls and bones. I can’t even begin to describe to you the emotions that ran through me while visiting that church. It was a totally overwhelming feeling of deep sadness and disbelief. The drive back to Kigali was a silent one as we all reflected on what we had seen and heard. As beautiful a country as Rwanda is, there is a dark side and you can’t help but wonder what things looked like 17 years earlier. How many people died in that building? How much blood was shed on this road? How many bodies fell into that river? How do these people find the strength to carry on? The state of this city and country is a testament to the will of the Rwandese people. Coming to Kigali was a breath of fresh air from the crowded and dirty streets of Kamapala. This city is clean, has great roads, nice sidewalks, beautiful landscaping and friendly people. It has a very European flavour and is a model for other African countries. Sunday morning we headed out after breakfast, leaving Kigali behind. I have to finish off this section of my blog by restating the quote, ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times’ as it so accurately sums up my time in Rwanda.

on display at the Kigali Genocide Memorial

list of names from the mass graves at the Kigali Genocide Memorial

at the craft market

church at Nayamata

clothes of those who died, stairs to basement

graves out front

Hotel Rwanda

Getting through the border back to Uganda took a lot less time. We were through within an hour and then drove through the border town of Kabale (not Kibaale) to Lake Bunyoni, known as the place of many little birds. This was another vacation spot that Mark and Sue had visited earlier this year and all the Canadian, Danish and American families have made plans to go there for New Years so we thought we would check it out for a night. The view coming down into the valley was breathtaking. Lake Bunyoni is surrounded by terraced hillsides. It has 29 islands and we stayed at a camp on one called Bushara Island. Ken dropped us off at the boat launch which was a bit of an adventure as several men fought over whose boat we would take. In the end, we figured out that we had a free ride to the Island and should wait for the camp’s boat to return. Even so, this one very forward man came over and introduced himself as Sunshine (with a very cheesy smile). Not wanting to be rude, I answered his questions: What’s your name? How old are you? Where are you from? But when he leaned in two inches from my face and said in a very creepy voice “I LIKE Canadians’, I quickly walked away. Dad was standing a few feet from me and was too absorbed in bird watching to notice that his own daughter was about to get a marriage proposal. I was very relieved when the boat arrived and we were able to go over to the quiet and peaceful island, far, far away from 'Sunshine'. The camp was beautiful and we stayed in these little tents with beds and a tiny table. If you went through the tent there was an outhouse and outdoor shower attached to the back. It was quite a secluded little place and other than a few Swedes we had the entire island to ourselves. Unfortunately, Ken was in such a rush to go for a swim in the lake that we didn’t order our dinner meal until 5:30. Turns out you have to order way in advance otherwise it takes a few hours to get your food. We didn’t get our food until 7:30 at night and by that point we all had lost most of our appetites. Food got mixed reviews but I gave it a thumbs down because later that night it all came back up again. Not to say that it was the food that made me sick, there were many possible reasons (including some roadside samosas I had eaten earlier that day) but regardless, it was not a fun night. The next morning I just wanted to get off the island and back to Masaka. It was a long drive home but we made it in one piece.

one of the many 'little birds'

waiting for the boat

our tent

And that is the account of my weekend adventure. This week has been a tough one after being sick and then coming back from such an emotionally exhausting trip. I am finally starting to feel better again and hope that I’ll be okay for the rest of my time here. A lot has happened this week. Over the weekend my Dad celebrated his birthday so we had a special dinner in Rwanda. On Monday Maya turned 9 so we had a party for her on Monday and Tuesday night. This was also Alisha’s last week teaching so we had a special Teddy Bear Picnic on Thursday. Today was another birthday party for two boys from the Danish families. Tomorrow we head off for a week in Kibaale followed by a weekend trip to Queen Elizabeth Park for a safari. Just writing this all down makes me exhausted. Please pray for safety and health as we travel. Little Ella is just recovering from what we expect was Malaria. This coming Tuesday marks the 4-week countdown to coming home. As much as I am excited about the adventures that lie ahead, I am also very ready to return home again to all the familiar places and faces.

More Babies and Baking

On Monday we went for our third visit to the Baby Home. The staff were having a meeting so we got to babysit for a few hours. Every time we go, I hear more stories of about the lives of these children before they came to the home. It is overwhelming to think about what they've been through. The children at the home are a small fraction of the many in Uganda and the world who have faced difficult situations in their short lives. I always walk away feeling helpless to make any difference at all. In the end, all I can do is hold and give them lots of love during our short visits and be thankful that they are in a place now where they are being cared for. 

Fred just arrived at the home and was recently diagnosed with Aids and TB. Although his mother gave him up, his dad has recently contacted the home and is interested in being involved in his life:

Alisha arranged to have my dad bring over some supplies for the kids at the home. They had a blast coloring both on and off of the paper:

This little boy came to the home with some sort of  deficiency. He is actually two years old although he looks less than a year:

 Alisha also brought some stickers and the kids decided to decorate each other:

Baby Annette is two weeks old and her mother died giving birth:

Timothy is only a few weeks old and was strangled by his mother at birth. He survived but it is unknown how much damage there may be:

On another note, this afternoon Sue's mother Doreen gave a bread baking lesson up at the Timothy Girls School. We did this activity instead of computer class and it was much more exciting. She came very prepared with an entire lesson on the science of baking and printed cookbooks...the girls were thrilled! I even got in on some kneading (see picture). We only had enough baking supplies to teach half the girls today so next week we'll do it again with the rest of them. We currently have some bread baking in our oven...smells delicious!

Parents

Tuesday night of last week we hosted a Parent Night for the adults to mark the end of our kindergarten module ‘I Am Special’. The kindergarten kids have been working over the past few weeks on various worksheets which were compiled into a booklet. We thought it would be fun to host a special night where they could show their parents all the work they’ve been doing. We started off letting the kids show the adults their work including various art projects pasted to the walls. Next the kids performed several songs we’d been working on. One of our projects was brainstorming and writing a story which I wrote out and had the kids illustrate. I presented that book to the parents and the kids excitedly exclaimed over which pages they had drawn. Maya presented a book report that she had completed and then we all sat down to watch a picture slideshow Alisha created. Earlier in the day we had baked cookies with the kids so we also had cookies and tea out for everyone. It was a very fun evening and the kids thoroughly enjoyed presenting and performing for the adults. We were able to give them a bit of an idea of what goes on during the week at our little school. It didn’t take a whole lot of work to put the evening together and yet I was totally exhausted afterwards. It made me appreciate even more how much time teachers spend outside of regular school hours being involved in various performances, sports activities, field trips and parent-teacher conferences.

tea and cookies

performing baby shark

straw castle

Maya presenting her book report

watching the slide show

Thursday afternoon I headed off to Kampala to pick up my Dad from the airport. His flight didn’t come in until 10pm and since driving at night is not safe, we had booked rooms at the Airport Guesthouse. After running some errands in the city, we checked into the guesthouse and then grabbed dinner with some other missionaries in Entebbe before heading over to the airport. It was very exciting to see Dad walk through the gate. We gathered all his things and headed back to the guesthouse for the night. After an early breakfast we headed out to do some last minute errands and shopping before heading back to the Timothy Center. We arrived back here around 1pm and since Alisha had gone with the Drisners to Kibaale, it was a quiet afternoon. Dad got settled in his room and I gave him a tour of the grounds. We had a delicious meal cooked by Arleen and deserts from Maya, Ella and Kayla. Today Dad was ready to get to work so his first project was fixing our bathroom sink which has been clogged for awhile. Later we went to the pool for a relaxing afternoon. It has been an adjustment having my Dad around. I’ve been here by myself for almost two months so its surreal that he is here in person and not on the other side of a skype conversation. The next six weeks are going to be very busy and full of adventures as we head off to Rwanda, spend a week living at Kibaale, go on a safari trip to Queen Elizabeth Park and then on to Tanzania for two weeks.