Count Your Many Blessings

Today was our second week at church. I loved it, it really does feel like being a missionary again! Sarah and i taught the gospel principles class together. Afterwards, a woman I haven't met yet approached me. She said, "You are a teacher?" I told her that yes, in America I teach 6-year-olds. She told me she can speak English, but she doesn't know how to read, and asked if I could teach her. I knew I'd have to get it approved first, but my mind was racing...I could teach people how to read- my favorite thing!! I asked if there were others she knew who wanted to learn to read, and she told me yes. Upon further investigation, I discovered that the senior missionaries have been wanting to start an English class, because some of the members don't speak English very well, or have spouses that do not. Its still very much in the works, but I would LOVE to teach people how to read. That can open a world of opportunities for people.

Also today in class we sang, "Count Your Many Blessings." I was struck by the words.

"Count your many blessings name them one by one, count your many blessings, see what God hath done..."

Comparatively to the western world, many of these people had next to nothing. But they sang with the fervor of any group of believers.

"Count your man blessings, money cannot buy; your reward in Heaven nor your home on high..."

And then I realized that compared to most of the world, the people in that room had more than most. They had the gospel of salvation. They had the knowledge of how to repent, make covenants, and live with God again. They had hope for a better world, which gives peace in the one we currently live in. And for that reason, these people are richer than over 5 billion people here upon the Earth today. I feel blessed to be counted in that small group.

To top off the day, we stayed after church to watch the baptism of 3 people.

Mbale branch baptism

Waterfall from the hike

Riding in a truck on the way to the hike

Hike

Culture Shock

I was told that there are 3 stages to culture shock: 1) excitement about everything 2) anger about everything and 3) acceptance. I have been feeling really good, because I felt like things were pretty easy to accept and I got to skip over stage two. Until I had a moment when it happened today...

Today we teamed up with another non-profit based out of Uganda called CFIA (Christian Faith in Action). They were doing an outreach in a small outlying village (about 2 hours away) and asked us to come help. so we got a taxi (which is really a big van) and all piled in. Let me tell you about Ugandan taxis. Including the driver, they hold 14 people. We fit in a least 18, which is how the Ugandans always take them. So it was pretty squishy. I sat in the back. The road was absolutely filled with potholes, and being in the back didn't help. I ate a small breakfast this morning, but it must not have been enough because my malaria pill was making me sick to my stomach. And the drive lasted much longer than expected because we had to go so slow over the potholes. All those things combined, I was pretty uncomfortable, and everything started to annoy me. (Caryn, is this how you feel all the time? ;)) I was bothered by the girl waving to everyone out the window. I was bothered by my directors who made me come. I was bothered by the girl taking pictures next to me. I don't typically get annoyed that easily, but it only got worse. Those bumps were making me so sick, and we were so hot and sweaty and squished. We stopped somewhere for a moment, and we were all talking about the conditions we were in. We were half laughing because it was ridiculous. And then it happened. I started crying. I'm not sure if I was sad or angry or just frustrated, but there were so many emotions they just couldn't stay inside anymore! People were (not unkindly) laughing that I was crying, and so I cried harder. I thought if I didn't get out of that bus soon, I was going to blow. Luckily...I did (get out of the bus, that is).

The rest of the day was better. In fact, it was pretty incredible. We went to a small village and first got started with an introduction to the day's schedule, then some of the kids in the village sang to us and beat their drums. It was just like you would imagine an African song being like. The songs somehow evolved into a dance, where all the HELP volunteers were up dancing with the villagers. They would hug us and chant and get so excited. After that, the adults had trainings on health and sanitation, while the volunteers entertained the kids. Sarah and I got a tour of their school, which was a small brick building stuck together with mud. There were 3 tiny classrooms inside, divided by some sort of bamboo or sticks tied together. most schools have about 6 grades like we do, but this school divided the 80 kids into just 3 classes, ranging from about age 3 to maybe 12? The teachers were volunteers from the community (I think), and I asked them what their greatest challenge was. They said getting materials to teach from. They showed us what they had, and sure enough, it was a very little, very random, and probably had very little to do with the Ugandan curriculum. Surely they don't have computer access, so they must have to get creative with their lesson plans. One of the teachers showed me a book for the youngest class. It had Disney princesses on the front, and was a letter tracing book, like something you'd find at Walmart. I wondered how she'd gotten it.

I was assigned to entertain the youngest group of kids, ranging from about 3 to 6. My partner and I taught them songs like Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Do as I'm Doing (thank you, Primary), and If you're Happy and You Know It. Then we played Duck Duck Goose (as best as I could show them, they didn't know English well) and then we were given face paint we could put on them. They had small snacks for the kids, and drinks from cups that they all shared. Then we lined them all up to get de-worming pills. Finally everyone came together again, and some final words were given about the importance of sending your kids to school, sending them with food, and preparing clean food.

After that we climbed back into the taxi, to go to a further part of the village. The leader of the village wanted to feed us. so after asking some survey questions to collect data on development and work in the area, etc, we went into a real African mud hut. We sat on tiny wood chairs in this one-room hut and they fed us a feast. They served rice, fish, posho (like the consistency of mashed potatoes but without much taste), some sort of beef, and pineapple. There were no utensils, so we ate with our hands. It was a true experience. How humbling it was to be surrounded by these people who truly had nearly nothing. The youngest kids went without clothing, and the older kids ran in rags. Apparently at the age of 13, boys are kicked out and have to build their own hut. Out of boredom they marry young, and most have little schooling. I spoke with one mother who had 8 kids, and had afforded to send only 2 of them to school. One of my survey questions was, "What is poverty?" When I asked, they responded, "When the weather is not good, and we cannot eat." In other words, to them, poverty was not living without electricity, clothes, education, and basic necessities to sustain life, but rather, poverty occurred when the people could no longer find food to eat.

On the way back, my blessed country directors made sure I sat in the front so I wouldn't get sick again, and I dozed most of the way home. It was a long and tiring day, but surely one that will burn in my memory for much, much longer.

A mud hut from the village

A kitchen inside of the mud hut

Jordan, me, Abby, and Andy eating with our hands in the hut

my swollen feet from mosquito bites

The Project

There are many projects (some big, some smaller) that our group is currently working on. But there is one that I am especially excited about that Sarah and I get to help plan. We have visited at several schools the last few days, talked with administrators, and observed teachers. We always get a very warm welcome in the classroom (they always say, "You are very welcome") and often the students will clap for us. One darling boy from this morning on the front row (Isaac) even grabbed my face with both hands and jumped up and down shouting, "Mzungu, mzungu!!"

Overall, the teachers that I have seen have really exceeded my expectations. I tried to evaluate them just as my evaluators would do and was impressed with all of the good things they did. But we also noticed some very common themes. Typically, teachers would ask a question, students would parrot an answer, teachers would put it on the board, and students would copy it. Sometimes there would be discussion, but all the information was fed to the students. None of the students seemed to think for themselves, or when they did, they kept it to themselves. Once a teacher let me get up in front of the class and I purposefully asked a couple of open-ended questions. The students just stared at me. I hadn't already given them an answer, and they didn't seem to know what to do.

So here is my conclusion...I can't end poverty, but maybe if I can help people to think for themselves and problem solve, they will discover solutions for the themselves as well.

Before we arrived, some members of our team started developing a project training teachers in doing science projects and experiments in the classroom using local objects. Sarah and I have latched on to this project, to turn it into a science training/general teacher training. I have been amazed with how things are falling into place. The Branch President here works at a school, and is friends with the district officer. Tomorrow we are meeting with him to make our proposal (which he seems to already be in agreement with). We are going to be hosting 6 training seminars that will include 1 or 2 teachers from every school in the district and municipality. We will be reaching about 150 primary (elementary) schools. Each seminar will be all day, from 8-5. We'll be demonstrating science experiments that correlate with their curriculum, teaching about Blooms taxonomy and higher-level thinking, and include other pedagogical techniques such as planning, inquiry, student participation, and being a reflective teacher. I'm so excited about this project! This is what I love to do. I hope it continues to work out.
The city of MbaleMe with students from schoolMe with students from schoolYou see signs like this at many schoolsThe planning board in our house

Church

This morning I attended the Mbale branch. It was just formed last week. Actually, one of the boys in my group (Paul) served his mission here and opened this area. Back then there were about 5 members, and now there are about 80 who regularly attend. I was so impressed with this little branch. The members are so friendly, and they seem dedicated to the gospel. The building where we meet is just 3 rooms, but they have a keyboard and a podium with folding chairs. There is no microphone, so we learned this week that it is better to sit up front. Without a mic and with their thick accents, it was hard for me to understand what they were saying. But the Spirit was strong in that little building, so it didn’t much matter. I felt like a missionary again (I almost introduced myself as Sis. Rodgers, but caught myself just in time). The lessons were great, and it was interesting to hear them from a Ugandan perspective. In Sunday School we talked about shepherds vs. sheep herders, and everyone thought it was amazing that in the days of Christ the sheep just followed the shepherd, instead of following behind which is what they do with their animals here. Then in RS, we talked about tithing. Because most of the members are new, it was explained how to pay tithing and how to fill out a tithing slip. Then the teacher gave an example of how much tithing is: “If someone makes 120,000 shillings, then their tithing would be 12,000 shillings.” I did the math. That would be about 60 US dollars, and the tithing would be about 6 dollars. I assume that is an average income. We also talked about how you don’t always pay in money, you may pay in food, supplies, or time. It was a great lesson.

After church, I met some of the people. They were all so friendly. One family I talked to told me they would name their next daughter Ashley. (I don’t really believe it, but it was sweet when he said it). Another man was really puzzled by my name. “Is that your Christian name?” he asked.

Day One - Saturday, June 11

Our first morning here, I showered for the first time in 4 days. It was cold, but at least I finally felt clean! We all went down to a school that some of the volunteers have been working at called Impact Ministries. There are about 400 students there, and about 250 are ophans and live at the school. Because it was the weekend, only the orphans were there. The school has about 8 classrooms, each with benches and a chalkboard. They have a little paper/pencil to copy down notes, but beyond that they don’t really have supplies. When we got there, one of the teachers (Fred) gathered all the kids together in the middle courtyard. We introduced ourselves, and then they said they were ready for “whatever you want to present to us”. So we sang some songs with the kids, and then just played with them for awhile. I went and had a talk with Fred. I told him I was a teacher in America. He said, “I want the knowledge. You come show us how to teach. I only teach for the two years, but I want better. I want the knowledge.” After talking with Sarah, my teaching buddy, we agreed that we would come and observe them on Monday, then we would model some teaching after seeing where we thought maybe we could help, and hopefully hold some trainings for the 11 teachers.While playing with the kids, there was a small group of them off to one side not playing with the mzungus. I started to go over there but was stopped by another volunteer who said some of the kids were afraid of white people. I sat next to a building still far away from them and watched. Then an older girl (possibly the mother of the infant in her arms) brought the little boy over. He was whimpering. I was reminded of when I was a little girl and mom and dad took me to the petting zoo. I was scared of the bigger animals, and so dad held me on his lap and helped me pet them while comforting me. Except this time I was the animal. The mother tried to comfort him, and helped him touch my hand and feel it. He bawled. He had no idea what to do with this white person. She tried to have me hold him, but he only cried harder. Poor little guy. I’m excited to go back to the school next week.

Where We Live

I thought we would never make it to Mbale. It was so exciting to see everything, but I could hardly keep my eyes open. When we got here, we got a little settled into our place. We live in a nice house, with 3 bedrooms, and American toilets! We even have showers, although they are cold. Our neighborhood is safe, but there is also barbed wire atop our fence and we have a guard named David. He has been a guard for HELP for 4 years now, so he is familiar with what we do and who we are. He has a bow and arrow. I’m sure that will really come in handy if we get robbed J There is a smaller house thing in the back, and the boys sleep there as well as about 4 girls. (There are 23 of us all together). I sleep in a room with 5 other girls, and we all have bunk beds and mosquito nets to keep the mosquitoes (with malaria) away at night.

The night we arrived we went to an internet café and a grocery store called BAM. We picked up just a few things, and then rode a “boda boda” back to our place. A boda is a motorcycle. You pay the driver to take you where you’re going. Often, the people will sit 2 or 3 to a motorcycle, plus the driver, but our CDs (country directors) told us not to until we’ve been here a week or two. That night our boda drivers were given strict instructions to be safe and drive slowly, because it was our first night in Africa. Without any road laws, and roads covered in potholes, I find it a miracle that anyone makes it anywhere safely, but apparently they all do! Maybe after a few more times I won’t have to close my eyes anymore! ;)

Afterwards we went to dinner at a hotel next door. They had vegetables, chips (which are like French fries), sausage, fruit (the pineapple is SO good!), and these delicious sodas called Mirindas. When we got home, we ate cinnamon rolls in honor of my birthday. I was so impressed they found ingredients to make them, they were delicious! Then David (the guard) had an initiation party for the newcomers. He had fried white ants for us to eat. And YES, I ate one! I was unsure at first, but gratefully, everything fried just tastes fried so you couldn’t taste much. I took a video of my doing it, I’ll try to send it sometime….oh Africa!