A-Rod Around

Love Makes The World Go 'Round

2011-10-25T03:30:00.004+03:00

I have a new love. He's only a few short days old but his wrinkled hands, translucent skin and murky eyes have captured my heart. My friends Ashley and Bart had a baby boy on Sunday night. It was moments of tension, disbelief, excitement and a new love previously unknown. New life is one of the most incredible moments in life. I am always in awe.

The funny thing about love is that it can be limitless. It multiplies, grows and spreads beyond human comprehension. I have many different loves in my life. Numerous experiences and opportunities have given me the chance to love and be loved. Love is something I am always learning about and hoping to spread.

It is with much love that I say goodbye. This is the end of my blogging here. I used this space to share my life and experiences living in Uganda and then my readjustment back to life in the States. The time has come to move on now. I am moving back to the West Coast tomorrow. I think readjustment will be a life-long process because Uganda forever changed my life. I have learned more about myself, my values and priorities, my desires, my family and friends, my responses, my hopes and my understanding of love. One thing I appreciate about life is that it is always changing. As hard as change is for me, I am excited to keep on changing and growing and learning more about myself and life as time goes on.

May peace and love reign!

Leaving The Familiar

2011-10-21T19:31:00.007+03:00

My chest is heavy and the tears are constantly at the back of my throat. Change is coming. I am making lists and deciding what to pack in my head. I am having last minute coffee dates and quick trips to all corners of the State. I'm saying goodbye to friends and family. I have been fairly displaced for the last few months traveling from one adventure to the next using Minnesota as my base. Now, I am making that last jump to be permanent for an indefinite amount of time. But it means packing one more time and having to say goodbye to people and places I love.

The Land of 10,000 Lakes has a beauty of familiarity for me. This is where I grew up. The combines harvesting in the fields, the sun setting on the lakes, the Minneapolis skyline, the bluegrass bands playing with washboards and spoons, the flannel wearing bearded urban woodsmen, are all pictures of comfort and safety. It is a world I understand.

It is also a place where snow covers the ground for way too many months and temperatures don't rise above freezing for weeks/months on end. As much as my heart loves this place, I don't love winter and I don't want to do it this year. I can't go back to the equator right now but I can take myself off to a place without coming snow, ice and freezing temps. I am looking forward to not having to shovel my car out and pay high utilities because of heat.

I don't fear change since I make it happen so often. But I really hate it. And I struggle with the process of change. Once again, and hopefully for the last time for a long time, I am fighting that clench of anxiety and overwhelmingness that courses through my whole body making me shaky and often immobile. I have made this choice to move and I know it is right but it is hard.

Becky was visiting from Georgia! She loves Fall and even Winter in Minnesota
but notice she doesn't live here anymore either.

Once Upon A Time I Met My Best Friends

2011-10-20T01:02:00.013+03:00

Once upon a time, in 2003, I went canoeing in the Adirondack Mountains for 12 days. The liberal arts college I was going to attend required a wilderness credit and I chose to do it before starting school so that I would meet people and have friends going into my freshmen year. When I received my list and discovered I was assigned to the all girls patrol I was not happy. What I didn't know was that this group of girls would become some of my biggest supporters throughout college and some of my best friends in life.

LaVida (the wilderness program) introduced me to 9 very different women from across the United States. We didn't all become best friends but we were all friends. And we were there for each other during our years of college. We would reunite once a semester and catch-up on what was new or the same. I always knew those girls would be there for me if I ever needed them. And now, a few have stayed close and continue to share in my life.

Lisa was very quiet on LaVida but she had an adventurous spirit that was evident. She liked to sit back and observe everyone. She wore a blue bandana and it was always sticking up in the back. Throughout my college years Lisa remained a friend. She made me laugh and she thought I was funny. Flattering. As the years since college have flown by we have had similar gypsy tendencies and found ourselves living in different cities and countries - never together but both experiencing similar lives.

Once again Lisa is wanting to travel and so I found her in Minnesota for one day interviewing for a job in Germany. I couldn't pass up the fortune of us being in the same State so I picked her up from the airport, waited while she had her interview, then spent a few hours catching up before she flew out once again. It was good to chat about the world and our place in it.

Lisa sleeping in the lean-to wearing her blue bandana - 2003

Lisa and I drinking tea and sharing adventures - 2011

I've written of her before but Bridget and my life also started together on LaVida. She cried as the LaVida van pulled away and she left her mom. She claims I asked ridiculous questions. But despite our rough start, thinking the other was crazy, we built a friendship. We lived on the same floor as freshman and later shared an apartment. We have vented over dirty dishes and cooked fun meals together. We have been there through break-ups and new relationships. We have asked personal questions and shared our hearts. We have written letters and made expensive phone calls when the distance separated us. We have stuck it out and owe a lot to LaVida.

Bridget and I snuck to the lake while we were supposed to be on a solo time - 2003

Bridget with her baby Parker at the beach - 2011

And, always, there was and is Jenelle. Jenelle is my kindred spirit, my best friend. From knowing what it means to be gluten-free to digging in a little harder with that J stroke in the water, she's there. Jenelle lets me rant and rave and understands what I mean at the end of it all. She asks the maddening question, "How does that make you feel," and won't let me get away without being introspective. We've lived together as roommates and confidantes. We've tried oil swishing diets and daily walks to the beach. We've procrastinated papers together and skipped work. We've shared more tears than anyone could imagine over both rational and irrational feelings. We've come a long way from that canoe on Lake Placid. And I'm so glad we're still going.

Jenelle and I in bandanas cooking dinner on LaVida - 2003

Jenelle and I with Oakland and San Francisco behind us - 2011

Those girls I met on LaVida shaped and defined much of college for me. Some of them are still providing guidance and comfort. I am so very thankful for getting assigned to that all girls patrol and canoeing around the Adirondacks with them. My life is greater because of these friends. May we carry on many more adventures together!

Interviews

2011-10-18T18:16:00.004+03:00

It is about time for me to head back to the Bay Area. I've spent the last few weeks farming and enjoying Fall but it is now time to go back and work. I have been applying for jobs and even had some phone interviews. Hard to imagine on the farm, right? What do phone interviews even look like when in rural MN out of reach of cell phone service? Well, I drive to the nearest cell phone tower at a gas station and sit in my car. When I think about the other person on the line seeing me like this I laugh. I am quite the site let me tell you.

Yesterday, two of my sisters and myself all had interviews. I went to the gas station while the other two had face-to-face interviews. Ash was offered the job immediately. Melissa and I have to wait. But it is encouraging to have made it to this step. It's exciting to think of the new lives we can make for ourselves. The possibilities are somewhat endless. So here I go once again. Making moves and choices and creating new adventures.

Sisters together for the first time in almost 2 years!

Progression of Life

2011-10-14T23:32:00.004+03:00

My childhood friend who I went to visit in Montana when she had a baby came back to Minnesota to visit. Her dad was in an accident so she came to see him and help out. Mostly, I would say changes in my friends are slight and the evidence of time is not so apparent. None of that can be said in regards to children. With Sarah, who hasn’t changed, came Adelynn, Sarah’s 5 month old daughter. I met Adelynn when she was 2 weeks old. Now, at 5 months, she looks like a different person. So much growth and change has happened.

My friend Ben and his wife had a baby and I went to visit them. It was so fun seeing Ben holding this little girl (Margot) and knowing that he is now a dad. Forever more Ben is a dad! What a crazy concept. One day you are not a dad and the next day you are. I love this stage of life: being part of my friends lives as they get married, buy houses, start families - what a cool time. As much as I hate personal change, I do love the progression of life. It amazes me. And makes me so excited.

My sister got engaged! She was pretty confident Phill would ask her this weekend but she was very surprised when it happened on a Thursday. Phill was pretty nervous and excited beforehand. Afterwards, both were jittery with excitement and happiness. It was fun seeing them. Phill made a comment of how Ang was no longer his girlfriend. She is his fiancé now. And soon will be his wife. Events change words. How beautiful is that?!

And so, life continues to progress in all its different forms.

Understanding

2011-10-11T03:15:00.005+03:00

Hunter and I in Uganda (2010)

Are there words to convey the feeling of being completely understood? I often fail to find them to fully express myself. But you know when you are talking with someone and what they are saying resonates deep inside you? Even when words escape you, you still feel connected and understood? I recently had a time like this with my good friend Hunter.

Hunter and I were in Uganda together and throughout our service I found him to be a very understanding friend. We left around the same time and I have found he continues to put words to my feelings and he experiences some of the same struggles that I do. Hunter came to Minnesota the other day and we spent time catching up and processing life over plantain pancakes and tea, how appropriate.

It is comforting to find another person who feels the duality of life. We are happy, but sad; content but uncomfortable; driven yet directionless. I am really thankful for the time we had together. As Hunter says, "It really was great to see you. I don't think the saying, "misery loves company" is appropriate here, but it was reassuring to know that those times that I think it's really difficult, at least there's some other crazy person who may be agreeing with me!"

Yes, Hunter, I too am crazy. But we'll just both keep living and take comfort in knowing we are understood in that department.

Left Behind

2011-10-07T00:31:00.001+03:00

I didn't come to love traveling and visiting people completely on my own right. I was influenced by my family. Growing up, we took family vacations and the talk of world history, events and politics was always present at our dinner table. It really isn't surprising that they too like to travel around the world.

What I find surprising is that I am on the other end this time. Usually, I am asking my family to take me to the airport or pick me up. This week, I was the one dropping off and will pick them up. My mom is off to South Carolina with her friends. My sister and brother-in-law went to Boston for a wedding and to visit our sister. And my sister in California went to Las Vegas with her friends.

Where am I you ask? This time I'm the one left behind to cook and clean and man the home front. Yes, I am a little jealous. My farmer father also may be less than happy to be left behind. But I think the meat and potatoes guy is most disgruntled with being left behind with a vegetarian daughter.

I Love the North East!

2011-09-29T16:02:00.006+03:00

The North East holds another really important person for me: my sister Ang. She is in her last semester of college and when she wasn't writing for the Boston Globe, planning graduation, working or going to class, she made a bit of time for her best older sister. I introduced her to some of my favorite old hang-outs. We drove around taking in the charm of New England. I listened to all her problems and gave sound advice (at least I think so). She graciously rubbed my back as we snuggled in bed - well, there may have been a few complaints but she did it! We also walked a few beaches in there too.

Notice Ang still has that bright-eyed look of the young and innocent to her.
I, on the other hand, am brow furrowed from the harshness of life.
Or, maybe it was just our individual responses to the sun in our eyes:)

It was fun seeing a part of her life. Ang asked if it was weird seeing her in Boston. We never lived there at the same time. Other friends asked if it was strange seeing them 3 years later now with husbands, children, houses, driving BMW's and Saub's. It was different, yes, but it seemed normal too. It's a natural progression. They're living life, I'm living life. Those exterior changes are interesting to see but it's the interior ones I want to grow with them through and hope they grow with me.

While the biggest part of what I love about the North East is the people, I also absolutely love the ocean and the beach. It is probably my favorite place in the world. Any large body of water does it for me but there is just something extra special about the ocean. It brings me peace and calm. I find rest there. I tried to get in as much beach time as I could on this visit. I even made it to the water in Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine! And I was honored to be along for Bridget's son Parker's first trip to the beach. He loved it, of course!

Fall in New England is a time for apple picking, going on drives to see the vibrant changing of leaves, apple cider donuts, hay rides, pumpkin ice-cream and last minute trips to the beach when it is a surprisingly warm day. When I was in college and even after, my friends and I would drive up to Ipswich to walk through a corn maze and buy fresh fall produce. Outside of the corn maze there is a measuring stick to mark your growth over the year. Since I started going there I haven't grown. Every year it says the same thing and every year I am a little disappointed. At least I'm not shrinking...yet...

2006

Five Years Later...

2011

And so I left the East Coast, the same size I have been for years, with baby spit up on every outfit I brought, sand sticking to my toe nails and so much love in my heart for the beauty of the area, the memories I have and most of all for the deep friendships that pass the tests. Goodbye New England. Until next time...

East Coast Friendships

2011-09-27T02:06:00.010+03:00

Over the last 6 months I have learned more about friendships than I thought I needed to know. When you reach your late 20's you think you have a good understanding of friendship. The drama of middle school friendships are over. The drifting apart of high school friends is passed. The staying up all night learning minute details of each other in college are through. Yet, as life continues and the true friendships stay, you learn what it really means to remain friends.

All through my time in Africa I had great friends calling me once a month, writing e-mails, and sending letters and packages. I felt supported and loved. I needed those notes of encouragement and reminders that I was still loved back home so that I could keep living my life in Uganda confidently. While that may have been a testing time for some friendships - who is going to stick with you when you live 8000 miles away - I didn't feel the test until these last 6 months when I was living in the U.S. again. Who is going to accept that you are different now? Who is going to ask the probing questions that make you be honest with yourself and with your friends? Who is going to call you over and over even when you don't have the strength to return their calls? Who is going to get on the next train when you are having the saddest day of your life and come hug you? Who dares to keep living with you when you barely know what living is in that moment? I am usually strong and friendship doesn't seem too hard. But I recently went through a time when I wasn't the strong one. I needed my friends to be strong for me. I needed them to ask me how I was really feeling. Friendship was hard.

I am very thankful for the friends I have. These last few days in the North East have revealed more friends who have stuck it out with me -who want to know who I am and who accept the differences and the things that have stayed constant. Thank you for your understanding and your love! May we continue to weather life together.

**********************

Molly, you make me see life more abstract. You help me live in the gray and be happy there. You ask me hard questions and let me ask you hard questions. I value your advice and am honored when you ask for mine. Thank you for taking me into your home and letting me live a bit of life with you and your family. Your daughter makes my heart melt. I am so proud of the mom you are and the wife you try to be. Thank you for sticking with me. I am so thankful for your friendship.

I can't believe I didn't get any pictures with you Molls but here is a piece of you I absolutely love!
Rose

Celeste, you are a new friend but one I have been through so much with already. You understand a part of me that most cannot because they haven't lived it with me like you have. You also understand this crazy time of adjustment and I am thankful for your words letting me know I'm not alone in these feelings. You make me smile and remind me to be young at heart. Who else makes getting face paint and airbrush tattoos so much fun? Your joy for life is infectious. Thank you for being there for me. Kwagala nnyo Mukwano gwange!

Celeste, me and Thomas - RPCV's from Uganda at the Jazz Festival in Boston 6 months after leaving Uganda

Diana and Paul, you remind me of all the experiences we have been through together. Your recount of life leaves me breathless from laughter. You both ask questions that challenge me to be thoughtful and not flippant with my response. Your sense of time gives me hope that parts of Africa can live in America. Thank you for your firm gentleness and your genuine interest in who I am and who I will and can be. Your friendship is so special.

Me, Diana and Paul at the beach in Maine - ahhhhh

Bridget, where do I even begin? You are so insightful. You know how to put yourself in someone else's shoes and feel for them. Thank you for you phone calls, emails, letters and packages over the years, especially over the last few months. I can't thank you enough for trying to understand me and changing with me. You don't let me get away with much. Your fight and exuberance for life make me want to live fully. You make me laugh so hard I almost pee my pants at times. Thank you for all you are to me and more.

I decided this wasn't too scandalous of a picture to post
since you have already put yourself breastfeeding on your blog
I love you! And Parker too.

This trip East has reminded me further of how blessed I am to know and be known by some pretty incredible people. Thank you dear friends for living life with me.

Boston, I'm back!

2011-09-23T17:27:00.006+03:00

I used to live on the East Coast. A large part of my development happened there. I went to college and entered the working world when living in/around Boston. I love Boston! Yet, when I came back from Uganda, Boston was the last place I wanted to go. There were too many memories there. And too many people I would need to see. The pace of life seemed so fast I didn't think I could handle it. So I put it off. I talked on the phone to my friends there and made half enthused promises to visit soon.

As time has passed I have become more emotionally stable. I am more confident in my ability to live in the States again. And a burning desire to see Boston and visit my old life pushed through. I called my friend Bridget and asked if she'd be around and after getting the affirmative, I bought my ticket before I could change my mind.

As my plane descended over Boston and I looked out at the familiar sites I couldn't keep the smile from my face. I was back! I was coming home.

It is always a struggle of wanting to spend quality time with people and wanting to cram as many activities in as you can when you visit. And really, who can resist the carrot cake pancakes with maple cream cheese butter from my favorite breakfast place on the North Shore?

And creamy pumpkin ice-cream from Richardson's? It's only a fall flavor after all!

The memories are good here. And the friends are fantastic. My time in Boston will fly so quickly. But I am very happy to be here. So watch out Boston, I'm back!

A MN Cultural Night

2011-09-19T03:46:00.002+03:00

My friend Paul is into Minnesota cultural events. In August, my friend Lauren was visiting me from Philadelphia and Paul told us about the annual A Prairie Home Companion Street Dance that would happen in September. This event is to kick off the opening of a new season of A Prairie Home Companion by Garrison Keillor. They broadcast the show on the street in front of the theater and after the show the night is full of live music, contests, meatball and mash potato dinner and dancing.

Paul goes to this event every year so I planned to also attend. When I was in South America I told the girls I was traveling with about it and JaNahn admitted to her huge crush on Garrison Keillor and became adamant about attended as well. She even heard about the Loon call competition and practiced all along the Amazon River. Lauren happened to be in town for work this week and extended her ticket to spend the weekend with me. So it was Lauren, JaNahn, Paul and I who hit up a true Minnesota cultural event.

It was really fun to see so many proud Minnesotans and visitors hanging out on Exchange Street in St. Paul all excited about Minnesota accents and Loon calls. It was also fun to see Lauren, who grew up in South Jersey and now lives in Philadelphia, experience something so Minnesotan.

JaNahn beaming from being in the presence of Garrison Keillor

Garrison Keillor moderating the Loon call competition

Afterwards, Paul took us around to a few other St. Paul, Minnesota hot spots. Here are Lauren and I at Mickey's Diner.

I find it strange yet normal to have different lives converge. Paul is a friend from growing up and represents so much of Minnesota to me. Lauren is a college roommate and my life out East. Yet, we all meld together somehow despite our different cultures. It really is beautiful.

My Endless Winter

2011-09-15T17:44:00.005+03:00

Why are there tomato plants and flowers inside our house? Because last night we had the first frost of fall. It is the 15th of September! Much too early if you ask me. I feel that I have been jipped of summer this year. I spent my summer in San Francisco entrenched in fog. I spent a month in the winter of South America. And now, I am in Minnesota and it is jumping into fall and winter. I don't like cold weather. Take me back Amazon!

Being a Gypsy

2011-09-10T16:19:00.005+03:00

I sat next to a business man on my flight home. After telling me about his company and all that he does the inevitable question came, "What do you do?" To which I put on my innocent surprised to be asked this question face and say in all seriousness, "I'm a gypsy," and smiled slightly. "Seriously?" he asked. "Oh, yes. I travel the world as the wind blows. I work a little here and there. Enough to fund the next adventure."

Of course, my mother is horrified every time she hears me say this. While she has supported and appreciated my life endeavors thus far, she also wants me to come across as responsible and not completely flighty.

As a self-professed gypsy, I know this season of travel and exploration is coming to an end. I have one more trip planned and then I will become "responsible" and look for a job. I'm about ready to settle into life in the States again: have a steady job, get an apartment, make friends with my neighbors and so forth. This time of mourning, or readjustment as some call it, has been an adventure of self discovery in and of itself. I have been coming to terms with ending a life I absolutely loved and starting a new one that I can and will come to love too. After spending the last month in South America, I feel much more settled and confident in my ability to live.

So, the end of my gypsy era is approaching. It isn't over yet. I still have another trip to make but it is coming to an end. In my heart, part of me will always be a gypsy. But the physical part will let it go for a time.

South American Part VII: Bogota

2011-09-08T20:27:00.005+03:00

Pictures for now. Words to come soon...

Bogota, Colombia

Melissa with our new friend David

JaNahn and I drinking coffee from cups that say, "Perfect Love" in Spanish

South America Part VI: The Tri Boarder

2011-09-03T17:38:00.018+03:00

We got off the boat at the junction of Peru, Brazil and Colombia. As this is the Amazon, and a developing world, getting an exit stamp was quite the trial. We had to walk with the sun and high humidity during the heat of the day to a little village in Santa Rosa. After finding the police, who you had to check out with first, and then a man with a stamp, we had to hike back to the river and take a boat across to Colombia. Then we had to go to the airport to get an entry stamp. However, all traffic into the airport was closed when we got there because a flight was coming in. Does this make sense? We eventually got the necessary stamps and even bought our airline tickets to Bogota for only $100!

JaNahn, Kate and I popped over to Brazil for the night to see a festival that was going on. There were a lot of dancing women wearing g-strings and feather head dresses. All aged Brazilians were performing traditional dances and loud drums and other instruments were playing. It was fun to be in the crowd. We were given flags to wave and people seemed happy to have us sitting amongst them.

Melissa was sick during our time in the Colombian Amazon so while she slept JaNahn, Kate and I went for on a jungle walk, explored Leticia and its many street food stalls and walked through the markets selling cheap products. The tri-boarder was a fascinating place. While the jungle is the jungle on any side, the towns were vastly different from each other. Santa Rosa in Peru was unpaved, small and simple. Tabatinga, Brazil was colorful with more scantily clad people. Leticia, Colombia was extremely friendly and developed with clothes stores, grocery stores, gas stations and paved roads with nice houses. Life seemed a bit easier on the Colombia as opposed to the Peru side.

The Amazon continued to be a magical place for me and one I hope to visit again someday.

No cars - only motorcycles/scooters - Leticia, Colombia

Little shops/markets selling most anything

What else is there to do when it's so hot you can barely breathe? Eat ice-cream with JaNahn, of course!

Delicious street food vendor!

Alligator we saw on our walk that's retinas has been eaten by ants so it couldn't see

Trailed path in the Amazon jungle

A real live anaconda!

The Amazon River was in low season

Bridges connecting countries

South America Part V: Drifting Down The Amazon

2011-09-03T17:38:00.016+03:00

Melissa loves the mountains. She couldn't stop raving about the beauty we were continually in and she felt deep peace and comfort there. I also love the mountains but it is water that brings me the most peace, contentment and life. It was with a bit of sadness for Melissa that we left the Andes Mountains and flew to Iquitos in the Northern Peruvian Amazon.

Ever since the very first night in Lima, I felt like I could breath again. A weight had been lifted that I didn't even know was on me. It was in Iquitos that life really fully came back to me. Iquitos was hot and humid. Everyone rode on motorcycles because the city is only assessable by air and water. Things were slower. Dinner didn't start until 8 pm. Tarp covered restaurants were crowded near the markets with outdoor cooking stands. The markets were busy and hot with flies dancing around. The water was brown. The sun beamed down and I loved it all! It was the most like the life I used to live. I got it. I understood it. I felt comfortable there.

We went down to the docks where there were no docks only cargo boats sitting on the sand being filled with goods. The first boat we went on was hot and dirty. The captain was indifferent to us. The second boat we checked out was clean and less hot. Again the man we talked to was indifferent to our wanting passage. The selling point for us was the butch woman we saw in the kitchen. We figured this Amazonian woman would be our ally if it turned out to be a boat of all men.

We booked three hammock spaces and 1 cabin (really just a closet with narrow bunk beds). I knew I wouldn't sleep well in a hammock and we needed a place to lock up our luggage so this situation seemed like a good idea. The boat was scheduled to leave the next evening at 5 pm. We were there at 2:30 to secure good hammock spaces. The boat was a live with a million and four activities with men loading the boat with cargo and passengers setting up their hammocks. Cargo was everything from Fanta to cows to motorcycles. Probably some drugs too but they were not visible.

It was incredibly hot on the boat while we waited for it to finish loading. I finally got off and sat on the banks in some shade and watched the loading process. At 5 pm they were still loading. At 6 pm they were still loading. At 7 pm they were still loading. At 8 pm they had finished loading and all passengers were supposed to be on the boat but they were still negotiating business with the so called authorities. At this point, we are convinced we are going to die on this boat from overheating. I went down to the open cargo area where the mothers with babies all stood flapping banana leaves or clothes trying to create a breeze to cool down their babies. I eyed the situation and slide up close to one mother hoping to benefit from her waving. With sympathetic looks I made friends with these women and offered to hold one of the babies. This was a selfish act. While I held the baby the mother waved her make-shift fan and I received direct fanning. While I did enjoy the slight breeze my torso soon became drenched in sweet from holding a hot little body and my arms became tired from the weight. But these were precious moments too. There is nothing like a little body resting in your arms. And there is nothing like a gathering of women suffering through a piece of life together in commonality.

The boat finally pushed off at 10 pm. The girls went to sleep upstairs in the hammocks and I opened my cabin door trying to get the finally moving air in. Within the first hour we had hit 2 sandbars. By the second hour we ran straight into an island. It was a pretty big hit and caused the boat to teeter. I stepped out of my cabin to survey our status and found all the men passenger pulling on as many life jackets as they could get their hands on. Some were wearing 3! Not one woman or child had a life jacket. There are some things that really make my blood boil and selfish men who care nothing for the safety and protection of women and children really gets it moving. Seeing we were stuck and the crew was out digging in the dirt trying to dislodge us from the island, I went back to sleep.

Storms can come up quickly and Santa Ana tropical storm hit with a force as we were still stuck on the island. The rain pounded in from all direction. I felt a slight mist from my bunk but found it refreshing. As I was about to drift off again I hear, "Amanda? We're coming in." And the three girls entered. We rearranged luggage and cuddled two to a bunk. The rain was raining in on the top deck and everyone had moved their hammocks and huddled in the middle trying to protect their belongings and stay as dry as possible. JaNahn said, "We're such Americans. We pick an adventure and as soon as it gets to be too much we go to safety."

Eventually we got off the island and continued making our way down the Amazon River. The rest of our trip was smooth sailing and pretty relaxing. It was very slow since we stopped at every village along the river to deliver supplies and pick up other goods to be traded or sold further down river. I enjoyed just sitting on a bench with other Peruvian passengers as we watched the efficiency and order of taking on and off of passengers, the loading and unloading of cargo and the boat's orders of operation. The kitchen staff brought us meals three times a day. We had porridge every morning with bread. Lunch was rice and beans, vegetables and sometimes meat. Dinner was soup. There was nothing touristy about it. It was a functional boat doing its job on the Amazon River. I loved it!

This stretch of the Amazon is the only place in the world you can see pink dolphins. We saw them! They were beautiful in their own way. Very interesting.

The Amazon River and jungle is an incredible place. I am very happy we spent some down-time here.

Passengers passing time looking out as we floated along

Tributary along the river - villagers coming to gather supplies from the cargo boat

Little boys hanging out in cargo rickshaw as we float along

Cute kids we met - hanging out in their hammocks

Melissa and JaNahn looking out as we float along

Packed hammock space on the top floor

Melissa with a stolen life jacket in my cabin

Cargo on the front of our boat, at a port unloading and loading

Village along the Amazon River

Unloading cargo

South America Part IV: Maccu Picchu

2011-08-31T20:37:00.012+03:00

With our new entourage, we took off on the local bus from Cusco to Ollantaytambo. Ollantaytambo is in the Sacred Valley and the site of some Inca Ruins. Since we got there so early we had time to walk around the town before we caught our train to Aquas Caliente. It was a beautiful day.

Also since it was so early, we stopped on the street for some breakfast. These three girls scarfed down fried egg sandwiches (one girl a few more than the others) and I ate some delicious rice, potato and bean concoction. We all drank more coca tea hoping to ward off any altitude sickness.

From Ollantaytambo we got on the train to Aquas Caliente. It was a stunning and relaxing ride. Sadly, there is the tourist class and the coach class. I was furious when they wouldn't let us ride in coach. We had to pay more money and travel with the tourists. I understand the importance of tourism. I understand the income it provides for an economy and I participate in it with my travels. But I can only handle tourism to a point. And when it creates a clear division between travelers and the people and culture I have come to learn from, I become incensed.

Aquas Calientes is the base town of Maccu Picchu. It only exists because people who want to go up Maccu Picchu before sunrise need a place to stay the night before. I hated Aquas Calientes! While it was in a beautiful gorge, it was way too touristy.

Since, I was about .9% afraid someone was going to check my passport number with my passport, I decided to go to the Maccu Picchu office in Aquas Calientes to clear this error. Ha! What a waste of time. The man looked at us like we were crazy and said, "What am I supposed to do about it?" Correct information is almost as important to Peruvians as it is to Ugandans.

The next morning we got up and were in line for the bus to Maccu Picchu at 4:30am. There was a collective excitement in the line of people. We were going to see Maccu Picchu! There was a slight fear in me that it wouldn't be all it was hyped up to be. I was feed-up with tourism at this moment but Melissa and JaNahn's over enthusiasm carried me through.

Maccu Picchu is all that people talk it up to be and more. What an incredible feat set in a stunning location. I was very impressed.

South America Part III: Cusco

2011-08-26T19:40:00.007+03:00

After battling altitude sickness, Melissa and I could hardly wait to be in lower elevation in Cusco. But first we needed to take the bus through the Andes to an even higher elevation. We took Dramamine that causes drowsiness and took off in the nicest buses I had been on since Taiwan. The seats were huge and they laid down with foot rests. We were very comfortable.

While we traveled in comfort, we were still sick and exhausted. Emotions were heightened and our arrival in Cusco was not pleasant. Taxi drivers vied for our attention and with no plan as to where we really wanted/needed to go first (hostel or Maccu Picchu ticket office) our first sisterly fight may have taken place. But fear not, as only sisters can do, we made it through somewhat unscathed and with a slight plan.

We had one day to get Maccu Picchu tickets for us and Kate and JaNahn who would be joining us the next day. We also wanted to see a few sites. However, with our late afternoon arrival and indecision of where to go, we arrived at the Maccu Picchu office after it had closed. We found a hostel and decided to venture out long enough to get dinner then go back and go to bed. We walked down to the Plaza de Armas and surprisingly to me, not to Melissa, we ate really good pizza (our first Western meal) and drank orange Fanta looking out over the plaza. It was a nice evening.

The next morning we got up and went straight to the Maccu Picchu office to buy tickets. When we were almost there I realized I had forgotten my passport in the hostel. Figuring no one would really even check to see if the correct passport number matched up with my ticket at Maccu Picchu, I decided to make one up. And I did, almost completely confident it would work. We then had a nice breakfast and I got coffee before we went back to our hostel to await the arrival of JaNahn (our family friend) and Kate (Melissa's college roommate). JaNahn and Kate were joining us for the rest of our trip.

With every car that drove past and every set of footsteps we heard walking by, Melissa would jump up and look out the window to see if it was them. A few hours after their expected arrival, the girls pulled up in a taxi. The street was incredibly narrow to the point where the hostel door almost had to be open so that the car door could be opened and they could shoot out. There were hugs, lots of laughter and stories to be told of canceled flights, sleeping in the Lima airport and also of our slowly improving health. We were all excited to see each other and continue (for them, start) our adventures.

We quickly took off to explore Cusco. We visited Inca ruins, Spanish cathedrals filled with gold and silver, and made stops for hot chocolate and coca tea. Coca tea is supposed to help with altitude sickness and is made from the leaves of the coca plant which also can be made into cocaine. It has been a controversial plant for centuries.

The carnivores in the group also tried the traditional dish of Peru: guinea pig. It came out looking at us and while they made valiant attempts to finish it, they just couldn't.

Melissa and I had stocked up on our alpaca gear in Puno, where it is said to be the cheapest, but JaNahn and Kate needed to make some purchases. Maybe due to the fact that is was really cold or maybe because they were overly tired, the shopping got a bit out of control and later that night we put on all the alpaca gear we had accumulated between the four of us. Yes, we had become the epitome of tourist. But at least we were warm tourists.

Cusco was beautiful and rich in history. We did not have enough time there. I need to go back some day.

South America Part II: Puno and Lake Titicaca

2011-08-23T16:12:00.006+03:00

After Lima, which sits at sea level, we flew to Juliaca/Puno on Lake Titicaca which stands at 13,500 feet above sea level. Melissa and I have never felt so awful! We had altitude sickness as hard as you can get it before you die. I'm pretty sure. Our joints hurt, we had the deepest most painful headaches and I was vomiting. We took coca homeopathy, drank coca tea and went to bed. We didn't get up, except to throw-up, until the next day.

Melissa and I made ourselves leave our hostel and see some sites even though we still felt awful. We walked to the Plaza de Armas and slowly made our way up the steps of the cathedral. Walking inside we sat down to rest. We stayed so long they started Mass around us. Ha! One thing I do like about the Catholic church is that you can walk into any Catholic church and follow along because they are all the same. I find such beauty in liturgy and communal prayers.

After Mass, we had enough energy to walk outside the church and then sat on the steps trying to decide what to do next. While we caught our breaths and tried to not concentrate on our pounding heads, an older Peruvian woman approached us with a fabric bag slung over her shoulder. She sat down and began to show us all the alpaca knit items she had made. Since being in Peru we had encountered many homeless beggars and always struggled with what to do. Now, we had a woman who needed money and had goods to sell. This was a perfect partnership for us. And it was cold so alpaca knit socks, mittens and hats seemed like a good idea.

Back in the 1800's, the Yavari ship was shipped from England to Peru. It took 6 years for it to be carried to Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. The ship was used to ferry people across the lake for many years and then was deserted and it fell to ruin. In the 1980's it was found and restored. While it doesn't take passengers anymore, you can visit the Yavari. Melissa and I thought this would be a low activity. It would keep us active but not require too much strength. A local woman on the boat was surprised we had come from Lima the day before. She told us when she comes from Lima she has to stay in bed for 2 days! We understood that need!

Besides seeing Lake Titicaca, I had wanted to see the floating islands. The Uros people lived near the Lake and when the Incas came they moved out onto the lake to save themselves. They created villages made of reeds that floated on the lake.

There are local ways to get to the islands and there are tourist ways. 99.9% of the time I would chose the local way. However, I was so sick i didn't care how we got there so we went the easy way, the tourist way. It turned out to be very informative. They showed us how they cut the dead reeds and build their villages. They told us about their lives of fishing and knitting on the islands. And, of course, they tried to get us to buy their crafts and take rides in their reed boats. I had had enough of tourism at this point so Melissa and I got back in the boat we came in with a British girl and a Colombian woman. Everyone else fell prey to paying for a ride across the water in a reed boat.

We made friends with the Colombian woman and soon she was calling us her daughters. We told her we were coming to Colombia in 2 weeks (my Spanish has slightly improved and I kept holding out two fingers saying dos semanas) and she insisted we stay with her when we get there. She told us she loves to cook and she will feed us well. Then with a big smile she said, "Mi casa es su casa." This made us all laugh and nod our heads. It's great to make connections when you travel.

On our last day in Puno, Melissa and I decided to go to Sillustani up in the highlands above Lake Titicaca. These are pre-Incan funeral pyres and burial grounds. By this day we were feeling a little better and actually enjoyed our trip there. It was a hike up to the structures and the sun was hot though the air and wind were cold. My new alpaca sweeter kept me warm and it felt good to be active. It was an interesting place to see.

We were miserable in Puno due to altitude sickness so I don't feel we can really be objective. We tried to like it there but I can't say either of us are antsy to ever go back. I will caution EVERYONE I meet who wants to go to Lake Titicaca - NEVER go straight from Lima. Stop in Arequipa for a few days and gradually make the climb higher. I never understood altitude sickness before. Now, I can empathize with anyone else who has the misfortune of experiencing it.

While the place wasn't amazing to us, once again we met some wonderful people who showed great kindness and perhaps pity on us. For these hospitable Peruvians I will always be thankful. And for our new Colombian friend, I look forward to time together in Colombia!

South America Part I: I Love Lima

2011-08-23T00:28:00.011+03:00

Back in January when my sister Melissa was visiting me in Uganda, we dreamed of where we wanted to travel next. For years, both of us had wanted to see Maccu Picchu. Melissa was seriously talking with her friend JaNahn about going there in the next year and I thought I would tag along. Since I was already planning a visit to Ecuador if I didn't stay in Uganda, I thought it would be perfect for us all to meet in Peru after that. However, my sister actually has a job and responsibilities and couldn't make it happen that quickly so we planned our trip for the end of the summer. Not only did I want to see Maccu Picchu but I wanted to see the highest navigable lake, the Amazon River and jungle and everything else we could fit in a little less than a month trip. Melissa's only request beyond Maccu Picchu was to see Colombia. No problem, I said.

Here we are several months later walking through Lima. What a beautiful capital city, greatly influenced by the Spanish and cuisine wise, by the Chinese. Melissa and I love Lima! While the people don't always look the friendlies, when you start up a conversation they are very helpful and kind. And honest! We took the bus the other day to another part of the city. Going was one price and we assumed coming back would be the same. It was actually cheaper coming back and the conductor on the bus handed us money back and took the time to explain this to us. What a welcome experience!

It is Winter in the Southern Hemisphere which makes Lima very gray. Any color strongly stands out. I told Melissa my summer in San Francisco with all the fog and dreary weather, prepared me for Lima.

Like many South American countries, squares/plazas abound every few blocks. Around the plazas are businesses, government buildings, museums, Presidential palaces and cathedrals.

Me in Plaza Bolivar (Bolivar is on the horse)

Beautiful blue church we walked by every day

More dangerous part of town we were warned to stay away from but got lost and found ourselves there

Pedestrian walkway connecting Plaza Bolivar with Plaza de Armas - full of shops and eateries

On our first day in Lima we went to the Plaza de Armas to see the changing of the guard at the Presidential palace. There was much pomp and circumstance as the guards marched with straight legs to what I thought was Peruvian brass band music but to what Melissa tells me was American composed brass band music. It was a surprisingly long ceremony but many Peruvians and tourists alike where there with cameras to capture the experience.

We wandered around the streets, visiting different churches/cathedrals and eating a traditional Limean lunch of soup, fish and tea. After lunch we went to Catedral San Francisco. The outside is painted yellow but from farther back looks like it also has black polka dots. However, when you get closer you discover the black polka dots are pigeons! They cover the catedral and it's courtyard. We got there just in time for a guided tour. The only problem was that the tour was completely in Spanish. Now, after 2 years in Uganda, any Spanish I may have thought I knew no longer came to the forefront of my brain. I found myself translating everything first into Luganda and then into whatever Spanish I could pull at. It was rough to say the least. Somehow, I managed to get some of the gist of the tour and passed it on to Melissa. About half way through the tour, my brain hurt so much from trying to translate I gave up and we just nodded our heads and pretended to understand like all those around us. After all, we are Rodriguez's. It shouldn't be that hard. It is our heritage.

Plaza de Armas with the Cathedral and government buildings

The Presidential Palace during the changing of the guard

Catedral San Francisco with the pigeons

Around every block is a new surprise for us in Lima. We found so many hidden treasures of beautiful doorways, interesting architecture and even street performers.

On our second day in Lima we decided to go see Miraflores, a more upscale neighborhood known for it's stores, restaurants and craft markets. It is very touristy. Miraflores is on the coast and as I am a lover of the ocean, I wanted to spend some time here. The coast was beautiful though the restaurants that dotted the boardwalk were U.S. chain restaurants, much to my horror. Miraflores is a popular place to hang glide too and it was fun watching people do this. It was very windy and cold so here are Melissa and I trying to stay warm.

While Miraflores wasn't our favorite part of Lima, I did have the best vegetarian meal I've had in a long time! After lunch we went to see some ruins. Melissa and I both appreciate history and we like visiting historic places. However, maybe due to our guides thick un-understandable accent or maybe to our sleepiness, we never really figured out what they were ruins of or from. The mud brick reminded me of Uganda. The excavation in the middle of the city reminded me of Israel. It was fun to climb around them though we still don't know what they are.

In Lima we stayed with Familia Rodriguez. Having grown up in rural-Scandinavian-heritage-only-Minnesota, we didn't know any other Rodriguez's growing up. So coming to Lima and finding the Rodriguez Family we were sure they must be long lost relatives. Familia Rodriguez was an older couple who rented out rooms in their beautiful old apartment in Central Lima. They were very hospitable and kind to us. Papa Rodriguez gave us a map and a lecture our first day instructing us on where it was safe for 2 young women to go. He made big X's over parts of the city he deemed too dangerous. Every morning they made us breakfast and while I sipped a very satisfying South American cup of coffee and Melissa drank her tea, Mama and Papa Rodriguez would read their newspapers and sip their coffee with us. We loved this family atmosphere.

While our Spanish will improve over the weeks to come, at this point it is near extinction. I had read about Penas (Peruvian gatherings) much like a dinner show where a meal is served and traditional dances are performed. Because we were not confident in our Spanish, we decided to go to a club where Penas were performed in person to inquire on the times and prices early in the day. This way we could make our plans around the Penas and not show up at the wrong time due to our lack of understanding the posters we attempted to read.

We walked down a very random secluded street past Peruvian men who knew the only reason 2 white girls would be there would have to be to go to the Penas club. They greeted us and kept pointing further down the street. When we arrived at Club Titicaca we were surprised to find many middle aged women in clusters standing around the waiting room. We were further ushered in to a ticket counter and after attempts at speaking and trying to understand what was being said, we circled pollo (chicken), the only food word we recognized on the paper the man held out and were handed 2 tickets and pointed at a door we were supposed to wait at. Not very long after, the doors opened and we were taken to our seats.

What ensued for the next 5 hours was one of the most fun and crazy experiences of our lives. We felt like we had been thrown into Havana back in the 1950's. There was a stage where a live band played traditional Peruvian music and also crazy dance music. Every few sets traditional dancers would come out and perform folklórica. When they were not performing, the audience would get out of their seats and dancing on the platform. We had stumbled upon the great Limean pass time! They love to dance. No one came off the stage without sweat dripping from their faces and chests. It was really so much fun to see people doing what they love.

Melissa and I enjoyed our pollo and were pleasantly surprised to also receive Pisco Sours. Pisco is the traditional liquor of Peru. It is a grape brandy they mix with lime and put an egg white on top. It taste similar to a margarita. For a girl who is allergic to eggs, this drink isn't the best choice. But it was delicious. You can't go to Peru and not experience this traditional drink!

Melissa and I also enjoyed eating off the street. If we saw many Peruvians buying empanadas, churos or most anything, we would try it. We only really had two disasters with this approach. The first was a pink desert thing Melissa saw several Peruvians with. Terrible. Just terrible. It was fake strawberry flavored soft styrofoam if you ask me. The second was hot chocolate from a street cart. Hot chocolate in South America, how can you go wrong right? They grow the cocoa beans there. Well, it was from a powdered mix. Not authentic in the least.

Melissa was a very excited to see the animals that are so famous from coming from the Andes. Too bad our first experiences were with fake ones!

On our last night in Lima we went to Hotel Bolivar, where the Pisco Sour originated. It was good. It was over priced. But it was authentic!

Many people had warned us that Lima is a dirty and dangerous city and we should get out of it as quickly as possible. It should only be used as a passing through place. But Melissa and I loved Lima. We wish we had more time here. I guess we'll just have to come back someday.

Moving on...again

2011-08-02T05:53:00.007+03:00

The time has come to move on yet again. There are many reasons I took this position but one reason was that it was only temporary. I needed time to re-learn U.S. living and I needed to earn some money for my next adventure. The City was good to me this summer. There are many things I have come to love about San Francisco. Somethings I will miss more than others. So, until we meet again San Francisco, goodbye:

Fog

Neighborhoods, Markets, Parks, Interesting Buildings and Murals, etc.

Great Food, Great Coffee

My Places of Refuge

And the hardest part of leaving San Francisco

The People - both new and old friends

Peace Corps Wishes

2011-07-24T07:02:00.003+03:00

I was at the park standing in line to use the bathroom and over heard a conversation behind me between two women discussing public bathrooms. One woman was expressing her disgust with public bathrooms claiming how dirty they are. In my head I am contributing to the conversation saying I agree and that I prefer latrines. You squat and go, not having to worry about a toilet seat. As I am thinking this, the very words are expressed by the other woman! She then starts to talk about her experience with latrines in Haiti back when she was in the Peace Corps. At this point, I have to turn around and introduce myself. We chat about the Peace Corps and its tremendous influence on our lives. We exchange numbers and both smile at the small world we really live in. And then we enter our respective stalls both wishing it was a latrine.

Melissa Visits!

2011-07-21T04:55:00.003+03:00

Melissa came to visit. Yay for great sister time and exploring Redwood forests, seeing the "Painted Ladies" (Full House houses) and partying with good friends in Oakland together.

My Model

2011-07-15T00:23:00.003+03:00

I go to a yoga class at the Y on Wednesday mornings. I have been going for a few weeks now and there is one woman who stands out to me each time. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. At somewhere in her 70's, she has shoulder length silver/gray curly hair, high cheek bones, and strikingly perfect posture. When she is doing yoga every position is model perfect. Everything looks so easy when she moves and poses. I admire her greatly.

Yesterday, after class, we were in the same cove of lockers in the locker room. We made eye contact and smiled and then she said, "I'm glad to see you in class again this week. Thanks for coming." That was pretty much the extent of our conversation but it made my day. My yoga hero recognized me and was glad I was part of her class! I want to model this behavior and also make others feel welcome and important.

Fear

2011-07-10T07:47:00.008+03:00

Fear is a funny thing. For some people it is ever present. For others, it creeps up and surprises you. The latter is more of who I am. I am not a fearful person. I have been in scary situations: My sisters drug me on an awful amusement park ride when I was young; I went through a riot in Uganda; I swam up to the edge of Victoria Falls. These are all isolated incidents, not a way of life for me.

Now, I work in a great city with its pockets of crime and disturbances. We send our volunteers into some of the roughest neighborhoods which means I too sometimes find myself hanging out in these places. With all the stories and warnings we are given I haven’t felt the fear I am told I should feel. As a pedestrian I am only another body walking in the crowd.

Last week I had to pick up one on my staff members from a pretty sketchy street/alley. I have been on this street a million times. This particular day, I was driving a car and I pulled up on the curb to wait for Jake to come out. There was a man weaving his way down the street talking to himself. This is not a new scene to me. There are many drunk, high, mentally disturbed people in this city. But as he got closer I felt that first prick of fear. What was different about this time? As he got closer he seemed to be stumbling more. As he gets closer I lock my already locked doors and roll up the windows all the way. I pretend not to be watching him and pray that I blend into the street somehow. Right as he was even with my back light he trips and falls into the drivers’ side of my car. I watch in my mirror as the man falls to the ground in the street. My first thought is, “I hope he’s not hurt too badly because I’m not getting out of this car.” My heart is pounding and I feel fear. Fear of the unpredictable. While I am much more clear minded and able to react faster, this man is completely unpredictable and I don’t know what to expect. So I wait. The man gets up and continues stumbling and weaving down the street like nothing had happened. Jake comes out and gets in the car and we drive off. I tell Jake the story and as we turn the corner we see the man sitting on the curb lighting up a joint.

What is interesting to me is that I was more afraid in that car than if I had been a pedestrian. For some reason I think I am safer as just another body on the street. I'm not alone on the street. I can run if need be. Or I can scream. But alone in my car, I feel fear.

A Life of Privilege

2011-07-06T19:32:00.003+03:00

It is funny the parts of life I repeatedly come back to. In high school and college I was introduced to the atrocious foreign policies the great United States of America has made throughout history that benefited us but caused extensive damage for others. I have met people over the years that are dying from malnutrition, who are living on the streets and who live in abusive relationships. These terrible situations show me how privileged and blessed I am to be a white, middle class, confident American woman from a loving family. How do I identify with those who live a "harder" life than me?

The other week I got on the MUNI (public transportation) with Maggie to go to the Castro to watch a documentary. We got 2 stops into our ride and the train stopped and was flanked by the police. We were told the train would not be going any further and we had to get off. Being concerned we would miss the movie, we didn’t want to wait around for another train to come. So, we got on the train going back to our house and picked up the car and drove in. I was angry with myself for the easy and speed I was willing and able to trade for the time I would have spent waiting for public transportation. I talk about wanting to understand and become part of a community but I often times find myself with more choices than those I want to be a part of. I have been blessed with a life of privilege in many respects. But where is the line of forgoing some of those privileges to better understand people? To more fully be part of a community? To be a more responsible global citizen?

I hate taking the easy way out. Life isn’t easy. It’s about intentionality. I worry this trend will infiltrate every part of my life. There are a lot of options we have as American’s everyday that others around the world do not have. American life can be more convenient. But I want to take time to think through my actions. I want to be intentional with my relationships. May I continue to fight these internal struggles and not become passive. Blessings and privilege also bring responsibility. May I be every growing, ever changing. And may I choose wisely.

Peace and Love Hippy Style

2011-07-02T20:19:00.001+03:00

PRIDE Weekend

2011-06-29T00:51:00.004+03:00

San Francisco is famous for many things: free love in the 60’s, the Golden Gate Bridge, Trolley cars, Google, etc. San Francisco is also known for homosexuals. Every summer, San Francisco has PRIDE weekend where various activities are arranged around the city and a parade marches down Market Street on Sunday. This weekend is a time for all lifestyles to come together and show their pride in who they are.

This past weekend was PRIDE weekend. I had heard the PRIDE parade was an outrageous display of human sexuality. I was warned people would be naked, acting flamboyant and engaging in sexual activities on the street. This event was rumored to bring out the far extremes: everything from very showy homosexuals to the extremely conservative Christians who say things like, “god hates gays”.

I was curious as to what the PRIDE parade would actually look like. My friend Maggie and I decided to go and see what it was all about. What I discovered was far more beautiful than anything I had heard it would possibly be. The PRIDE parade was a display of a community who supported one another regardless of the life choice each member has chosen.

One particularly touching moment for me was when the San Francisco police department marched down the street. They came wearing their crisp black dress uniforms holding hands with each other. There were both heterosexual families marching and homosexual families. They all held hands together. I got goose bumps and teared-up at this display of acceptance and love. When I think of the police I tend to fall into the stereotypes of believing they are all a bunch of macho men who harass anything that is different than themselves. So this open display of pride and support was truly beautiful.

San Francisco is ever teaching me what peace, love and community are.

My Late 20's

2011-06-26T18:21:00.005+03:00

This past week I hit my late 20's. When I left for the Peace Corps my friend Jenelle and I couldn't believe I would come back and enter my late 20's. It seemed so old at the time. Now, I am here, and I feel so young. Maybe it's this gypsy life I continue to live. Maybe it's all the good friends I have. Maybe it's the fact that your 20's really are still young. Whatever it may be, I am happy to be in another year of life. May this one be as full of growth as the last.

I had the opportunity to house-sit this weekend and used having a nice loft to host a dinner party to celebrate my birthday. With new and old friends, we ate some of my favorite foods (enchiladas!) and Jenelle made gluten-free chocolate cupcakes. We had a contest for best decorated. Granted, we had little supplies and I am not all that creative with cake/cupcake decorating but I thought mine was simple and nice.

I got upstaged by Maggie who just had to draw the Golden Gate Bridge and write The City, as San Francisco is referred to, across her cupcake.

Thank you to all my friends and family who made me feel so loved on my birthday. The calls, e-mails, cards, flowers, balloons, happy birthday songs at work, lunch dates, toasts at my party and general attendance in my life is so very much appreciated by me. I love you all!

College friends! We didn't all intend to wear pink, we just all showed up this way.
Caitlin, me and Jenelle

Some good friends at my birthday party:)

Community

2011-06-01T17:48:00.004+03:00

*To all my Denver friends who are coming out of the wood-work: I'm so sorry I didn't know you were all there! I'm in San Francisco now but if I come through Denver again I will let you know. Thanks for wanting to get together:)

How do you become part of a new community? Especially one that you are not sure how long you will be apart of? I want to be an active member of a community. There is belonging and accountability involved when you contribute yourself to a community.

I have given this summer serious thought. I have a job to do but I also have a life I want to live. I want to make the most of my time in San Francisco and become a part of the city in whatever small way I can. I have decided to do everything as close to a local level as I can. I only eat at local restaurants (no chains), shop at local farmer's markets, use as much public transportation as I can and follow some of the local norms like composting and recycling. This way I support the local economy, act as a socially responsibly global citizen and get to know a city from a different perspective.

Another way I am trying to gain community is by joining the YMCA. Every time I go in, Christina who works at the front desk, greets me by name. She is the one who took me on a tour of the facilities first and signed me up. She asked me about my job, compliments the bright yellow sweeter I wear and asks how the yoga class I've been taking is going. She has become a familiar face in my new routine and one I genuinely am excited to see. On the days she isn't working I feel like something is missing from my Y experience.

I'm also starting to recognize and be recognized by other women in the locker room. There is a friendly banter in there I wasn't expecting. These women know each other and conversations fly around me in other languages. The other day I left my earrings in a locker. I realized this once I got home and as the earrings were from Uganda and special to me I ran back to the Y hoping to find them. I prayed the whole way they would still be there. I found an older Chinese woman standing in front of the locker putting her things inside. I explained that I had left my earrings in there. She then opened her palm and my earrings were in her hand. She told me she knew someone precious would come back for them. I thanked her for taking care of them for me and she proceeded to offer a blessing to me. It was a beautiful moment. I was touched by her sweet spirit and friendly gesture of giving me a blessing. Those are the moments that make me yearn for community. Feeling loved by a stranger is a powerful feeling. I hope I can also offer that love to others.

I continue to create a life for myself in this new city. I smile to others as I walk down the street, I start up conversation with the person riding next to me on the MUNI and I explore neighborhoods in the hope that all the peace and love I believe in will be felt by others and greater community will be built.

Another Road Trip

2011-05-29T07:38:00.008+03:00

Driving through Utah - beautiful!

After a schedule packed week of job training in Denver, I was given a car and directions to my new home in San Francisco. I am managing a team who will connect youth to volunteer opportunities in the city. I have three fantastic college-age staff members who are enthusiastic, hard-working, dedicated and fun. We road-tripped out to San Francisco and took the time to see a few sites along the way. It was a unanimous consensus that Utah is the most beautiful State we drove through. We could have done without most of Wyoming (especially the snow storm we drove through) and Nevada but still found things to enjoy in all the States along the way to the California coast.

We spent the night in the middle of no-where Nevada. I had not been very excited about this prospect and thought Reno may provide more entertainment. However, Reno was 500 miles further than we were able to go. What seemed like a sketchy little town full of casinos and gentleman's clubs, turned out to be a really fun night for us. We ate at a local bar and played pool sharing crazy life stories. We kept each other entertained with Philip's terrible dating stories, my becoming a true PCV stories, Maggie's beating up her sister stories and Jake's road-trip with college friends stories. We had moments of laughing so hard tears were coming out of eyes and other times of showing our weaknesses as the cue ball jumped off the pool table once again. I am learning more and more about these dear people and am excited for the team we will make this summer.

We walked all the way out to the Salt Lake

Salt Lake

Maggie, Jake and Philip with salty shoes and dirty feet from walking to Salt Lake

Team at the Nevada boarder trying to use the camera timer

Picking-up Where You Left Off

2011-05-23T03:44:00.005+03:00

I learned many things while in the Peace Corps. One is that I want to work in a community development/social work kind of setting. Since finishing the Peace Corps, I have been able to travel and ease my way back into life in the States. Now, as my bank account approaches the red, I find myself needing to work. But not being completely sure of what I want to do or where I want to go, I decided a short-term assignment might just be the best next step. So, I am finding myself in Denver for a week of training and then I'm off for San Francisco for the summer to work connecting youth to volunteer opportunities in the community.

I have many friends all over the United States, and really the world, and I try and connect with them whenever I find myself near their homes. The sunny state of Colorado is home to a good friend of mine who lived on my floor my freshmen year of college. When I found out I had to be in Denver for a week of training, I called Lindsay to see if she wanted to meet up and catch-up. Today, she made the drive from Colorado Springs and picked me up from the airport.

Being the thoughtful friend she is, she took me to a great breakfast place down-town that served excellent mimosas and gluten-free foods! I had a delicious German Chocolate pancake with a pomegranate orange mimosas. Wonderful! Even more wonderful was the time we had to catch-up and hash out life together. There are friends that can pick-up with you anytime and you keep going where you left off. It was a heart warming/wrenching/healing time to be with Lindsay and I am thoroughly happy for the special time we had today.

The Life of a Farm Girl

2011-05-17T19:52:00.006+03:00

My parents are farmers. Well, my dad is the real farmer since my mom makes everything that grows die, but my mom does a lot of work on the farm in her own right. She does the bookkeeping, makes phone calls, runs errands, etc. As one of 5 girls growing-up on a farm we all played our part too. We learned how to pray for the weather based on the season and need. We appreciate neat and straight rows in a field. We are fluent in farm-lingo. We wore over-alls and plaid as children. We know how high the corn should be by July 4th. We love the beauty of the earth and the cycle of growth. We know how to read the markets. And we rise and fall with the morning and evening sun making us much more productive in the morning than at night. While I know how to drive the tractors this really hasn't been my focus. I've been the one who runs parts between fields or goes to town to run errands.

One thing I love about being home is having coffee each morning with my mom. We meet in the living room or out on the porch if it's warm enough early in the morning. Still wearing our pajamas we enjoy the warmth of that beautiful first morning cup of coffee. With it being spring and planting season, our coffee time is sometimes interrupted with a request to do something on the farm. This morning my dad needed a belt brought out to one of the fields where our tractor was planting. My mom got dressed and I decided to go along for the ride but to forgo getting dressed quite yet. I threw on a coat and slipped into a pair of ballet flats believing I'd be sitting in the car the whole time.

Once at the field my dad called to tell me he needed the seed bin back and I should drive it home. So, still in my nightie with my glasses on, I climbed into our big diesel truck and made the slow (40 mph) drive home with the seed bin behind me. I didn't look exactly like the farm girl I know how to be but I felt confident and content in my role.

Me with the seed bin about to make the journey home
(Notice the gingham nightie - still resemble farm girl a little:) )

Thompson Falls

2011-05-15T15:25:00.002+03:00

Sarah and Jeremy took us to Thompson Falls, one of their favorite places nearby. A long time ago, an engineer thought building a dam at this place would be a good idea and predicted it would be the largest source of energy for Montana. He was wrong but his dam still lives on. There are trails along the dammed river and we took a little hike around. It was beautiful! The day was windy causing our hair to be out of control but we had a great time exploring the woods together.

Small Town America

2011-05-14T16:29:00.010+03:00

Having grown up in rural Minnesota, I have always had a love of small towns. There is a simplicity and honesty they provide. Everyone knows everyone else which can lead to problems with gossip but can also bring accountability to a community. There is a true sense of belonging when you go to the post office and get stuck talking to the post master for the next hour because he knows everything and wants to share it. Or at least he thinks he does, which can lead to some of the problems in a small town. While small towns may not afford the best academic educations, easy access to communication or 1000 varieties of tomatoes in the grocery store and other endless choices, they still have a lot to offer.

Sarah and Jeremy work at a Christian adventure camp near a small town in Western Montana. Plains has a population of 1200 people. We walked down the street with Sarah and she was greeted by name. Even if they didn't know her name they knew her face and wanted to talk about the baby.

Sarah took us to the small grocery store and was horrified to see the industrial revolution was finally getting to Plains. Conveyor belts had been added to the check-out counters! Ashley and I laughed. Progress takes time but it takes even more time in small towns.

I fell a little bit in love with Plains. It's surrounded by mountains and rivers that take your breath away. The people were friendly. There weren't too many options to overwhelm you. I found comfort with the lack of options and not being an anonymous face in the crowd. Maybe it's me coming off extreme community in Uganda that has me craving and desiring the simplicity and community of a small town. While I continue to contemplate where-to-next, I'm beginning to think small town America might not be such a bad place.

Another picture of Adelynn just because she's so cute!

The Ones We Grow With

2011-05-13T19:36:00.008+03:00

I met Sarah as a kindergardener on the school bus. She refused to sit in a seat that I occupied and if it was the only seat available she would sit at the very edge and tremble. With her over-active imagination, she had convinced herself I was an leprechaun. Of course, I didn't learn this for years. I just thought she was weird. Somewhere in middle school we became friends and began the long windy journey of friendship.

I met Ashley in middle school. We were in the same 6th grade class but she was dating the boy I liked so she was my enemy. One day at a kickball match Joey, the hot stud of 6th grade and Ashley's boyfriend, cried when Ashley kicked a homerun against his team. She dumped him there and I thought she was great. It was there our respect, appreciation and love began for one another.

Many years later the three of us have survived extreme crushes, mullet haircuts, perms, no-shower sprees, family sadness, learning to drive, youth group, graduation (HS and College!), summers at camp, new family members, tennis practice, cooking Mexican dishes, sleep-overs, long walks, long-distance phone calls, overseas trips, living in different countries (Canada, Guatemala, England, Uganda), getting married, buying a house and getting new jobs. While we spent the first 7 years of our friendship nearly inseperable and living within 20 miles of each other, the last 8 years have often times been thousands of miles away from each other. Through the distance our friendship has changed with the ebb and flow of our different lives. Some of our dreams have changed while some have been realized. We continue to be there for one another as our lives go on independantly through phone calls, e-mails and dinner dates when we happen to be in the same state.

Sarah was the first to leave the country spending part of a summer in Panama while we were in high school. She was the first to fall in love with flannel. Sarah was the first to play singles instead of doubles in tennis. She was the first to introduce us to old movies. She was the first (and only) to get malaria while traveling around on a medical ship in West Africa. She was the first to get married. In some regards, Sarah has been a real trailblazer in our friendship. Now, she is the first to have a baby (and squat while having one! yay!).

Ashley and I flew out to Spokane where we rented a car and drove through the beautiful mountains, valleys and over the rivers of Washington, Idaho and Montana to get to a little place in the middle of no-where Montana to visit Sarah, Jeremy and the new little Adelynn. The drive was breathtaking and I kept stopping the car, much to Ashley's amusement, to take pictures of the snowcapped mountains, glittering streams and old steal bridges. I kept hoping a steam engine train would click along next to us on one side while some wild bison munched in the valley on the other side and then as we turned the bend I hoped to see some fly fishermen out casting their lines. It didn't happen but I was still happy with this drive.

We arrived in the evening which was still bright with Northern summer light to be greeted by Jeremy, Sarah and Adelynn. Adelynn is the sweetest 3 week old baby girl. I, a sucker for babies, cannot stop holding her and being amazed with her little yet long fingers, smooth thin baby skin and hiccups that shakers her whole little body. I get excited to pick out her clothes in the morning, burp her after she's eaten and speak to her in a language she'll never remember. It's also been really fun to see Jeremy and Sarah in their new role as parents. They are doing such a great job. They seem very comfortable in this role and very proud, as they should be.

So as we sit around sharing life, passing the baby around, playing board games, making flautas and eating huckleberry ice-cream (it is Montana afterall) our friendship has grown once more in a new direction. We're learning how to be friends with a mom; how to be friends with a pregnant career woman; and how to be friends with a newly laid-back, indecisive Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. I'll let you guess who is who.

The Galapagos Islands Part III: Island Life

2011-05-10T23:10:00.010+03:00

Going from island to island we had a lot of opportunites to see some incredible animals up close and personal. While each island pretty much held the same animals, it was still nice to see them in their natural habitats.

Me with land iguana

Land iguana

Red crabs

Jen being thoughtful with a turtle

FlamingoSea lions abound!
Me near a bachelor sea lion
Jen having a staring contest with a sea lion on the beach
Frigate birds trying to attract each other to mate
Land iguanas trying to stay cool in the sand

And so ends our trip to the Galapagos Islands. It was full of water and land life, crazy times on a boat in the ocean and laughter between friends as we made new memories. Bahamas, Canary Islands, Galapagos Islands, what islands will we visit next together?

For more detailed descriptions, check out Jen's perspective: The Journey Begins...Again

The Galapagos Islands Part II: Snorkeling

2011-05-10T16:33:00.010+03:00

Everyday we went snorkeling, sometimes twice a day. We went both deep-water and shallow-water snorkeling. Deep-water snorkeling was by far the best because we got to see so much life. This is also were the sea lions would hang out and swim with you. While we did see sharks and a whale we didn't swim with them. However, every other sea creature imaginable was with us as we snorkeled.

Jen says, "Our snorkeling places were great. We went underwater and there were fish everywhere. We got to swim with the seal lions and watched as they slid in and off the rocks and swirled and twirled underwater. Amanda and I saw a sea turtle. We got some great pictures with the underwater camera." Yay for underwater camera bags!

Sea lion playing Sea turtle
Stingray

The Galapagos Islands Part I: Unique Experiences

2011-05-09T03:14:00.012+03:00

The Galapagos Islands are most famously associated with Charles Darwin. Though he was only in the Galapagos Islands for a short time (4 months) and at a young age (26 yrs), his mentioning them in his research and work to follow put them on the map forever. The Galapagos Islands are a group of volcanic islands off the coast of Ecuador. Jen and I were interested in seeing all the different wildlife, the various landscapes and cruising around on a boat to the different islands.

Even before leaving Quito for the Galapagos I wasn't feeling well. I had one of the worst headaches of my life, my muscles, bones and joints hurt and I just generally didn't feel well. I thought I might just have altitude sickness and hoped being at sea level would cure me. However, upon arriving in the Galapagos, I felt even worse. I became convinced I had dengue fever, typhoid, typhus, malaria and menengitis all at the same time. Jen left me in bed and headed out for a long walk along the coast-line of the island and also to pay a visit to the pharmacy. After describing my problem in detail and explaining I had been living in Africa only a few weeks prior, several pharmacists put their heads together and came up with 4 different medicines they insisted would cure me. Jen brought them back these medicines with instructions in Spanish.

The next day we were scheduled to get on a small cruise boat and sail the waters for 4 days. I still didn't feel better. A few hours before we were scheduled to meet at the docks to get on our boat Jen convinced me to go to the hospital. There was a long line of about 40 Ecuadorian women with their babies but being the token tourist and white person, I was sent to the front of the line and saw an emergency doctor immediately. With Jen as translator, the doctor asked some questions, listened to my heart and lungs, looked down my throat, in my ears and at my eyes, felt my legs and diagnosed me with some bacterial infection. How could this immense pain be cause by a bacterial infection? I was not convinced but we had no time to argue. Jen and I slowly marched across the street to the pharmacist where we returned and exchanged the medicine from the night before for the penicillin and pain killers I needed. Only in a developing country can you bring medicine back!

I must admit, a little bit after taking the first dose I felt a bit better. A few days later, I was fine. Who would have thought a bacterial infection could cause so much pain. Certainly not me.

Taking my first dose of penicillin infront of the free hospital

Once out at sea we stopped at an island to mail our letters. The special thing about this mail system is that it's done in old whaling tradition - without stamps. You look through the pile of letters in a mail box and see if any are going to a place near you. If so, you take that letter and deliver it. You add your letters to the pile for someone else to take when they are going that way. So some of you, don't be surprised if someday someone shows up at your door with a letter from me from the Galapagos Islands. I have complete faith this system works. It might take a hundred years but...
Cruising around from island to island proved to be a bit much for me. I suffer from motion sickness normally and when you put me out on the open seas in a small cruise boat things don't brode well. At night we even were bracing ourselves in our beds as the boat dramatically heaved over the big waves. Jen, ever the trooper, tried to be a good nurse throughout these difficult times and she succeeded in making me still smile throughout.

Our cruise boat

What a friend!

Ecuador Part VI: Quilotoa

2011-05-02T20:28:00.014+03:00

Yesterday we went east to Quilotoa, a crater lake. Along the way we made a few stops and got to see much more of the beautiful Ecuadorian landscape. The rural lifestyle was very familiar to me. Grass covered homes dug into the ground, open spring wells and fields dug by hand were a welcome site. There is a simplicity and pride in hard work that is evident in the rural settings of a country. Life is hard in these rural areas but people are happy and successful in their own ways.

We stopped at a local market where all foods imaginable, tables of used clothes, pirated phones and all plastic objects needed for a home, were displayed for sale. It was wonderful to walk through an aspect of life I know so well. I only wish I knew enough Spanish to greet the vendors and engage them in light market talk. It was thrilling to stand with Jen and her roommate Kaycee as they bartered their way into the ownership of a cell phone. How much better is it to have a cell phone you bought in a rural market than from some legitimate store in the capital city? This way not only do you have a cool story to tell about your cell phone but you are also helping out the local economy!

Also while we were at the market I bought 2 empanadas from a street vendor. The man's toothless grin as he wrapped the empanadas in a ripped piece of paper made me feel utterly content and happy to be part of a beautiful moment of shared humanity. He had a good to sell, I had a hunger to satisfy. Both were proud of the partnership.

The trip was a good 3 - 4 hour drive from Quito, this time thankfully in a van. We reached one of the highest points in Ecuador and I had the biggest headache from being car sick and having altitude sickness. Not the most pleasant moment of the day. On our drive we passed traditional villages, open earth from earthquakes and lots of llamas, alpacas and sheep. Ecuador is a beautiful country!

We got to Quilotoa and climbed up a hill to look out over a beautiful lake carved into edged hills created by a volcanic eruption several miles away that triggered an earthquake thousands of years ago. The water was strikingly blue. The hills surrounding the lake were steep and we decided to hike down them to get to the lake. What an intense decision that turned out to be! The path alternated between being loose rock and thick sand. Many passages were narrow where we encountered a woman walking her sheep back up the cliffs, another woman bringing her mules down (to later take us back up) and other hikers. Once we reached the bottom we were content to sit on the shore of the volcanic lake and marvel at it's beauty. It was a beautiful place to rest.

Before starting our hike down the crater, we had to order mules to take us back up if we didn't want to hike up. The thought of riding mules up a crater in Ecuador was too great an appeal for us to turn it down. This turned out to be a great decision since the hike down was so intense.

When we were ready to head back up two little boys saddled a mule and called me the "small one" to ride the first mule. This mule turned out to be an old lady mule with a heart problem, I swear! It was breathless as we climbed the steep cliffs and I could feel her heart beating uncontrollably beneath my legs. The saddle was also a problem for me. It was genuine leather but hard hard hard! There were moments I was in serious pain and thought hiking up would have been less painful. As I saw a few brainless hikers making the trek up I realized this wasn't true. The mule, even one with a heart problem, was by far the smartest choice.

Notice all the sweat matted hair on my mule! This is from the top.

Quilotoa was a fun trip. We have a bit of down time today as Jen has to get some work done. I did the babies morning feeding and now am heading out to explore more of Quito with Kaycee. Then, tomorrow Jen and I are off for another adventure! Galapagos here we come!

Ecuador Part V: Night in Quito

2011-04-30T21:56:00.010+03:00

Diana and Betsy could only stay a few days because they have real structured jobs and lives in the States. We tried to fit as much in as possible while they were here. Our last night together was spent in Old Town Quito. This is where the giant cathedral is, old Spanish-influenced buildings and lots of people out and about late into the night. I felt like I was in Spain.

We stopped for yet another organic brownie then set off to watch a cultural performance. Performers of all ages danced traditional Ecuadorian dances for us and a band played their music on wooden flutes, guitars and drums. I noticed this in Uganda too, most cultures don't have a million different cultural dances, they usually have 2 or 3 and just change the music, age of participants or costume. This was true of Ecuador too. Ecuadorians dance fast and do a lot of turns. It was beautiful and fun to watch. One particular dance that held us in awe was a dance using ribbons attached to a May pole. In the beginning they danced around the pole and wound the ribbons tightly around the pole. Then they unwound them in-step with the dance the whole time! It was fascinating and I spend more time watching the ribbons on the pole than the actual dancing.

We finished the night at a lovely roof-top restaurant for dinner. We looked out over the city and enjoyed a traditional hot wine, which I was pretty skeptical of (sorry Jen) that was delicious. I had another trout dinner while everyone else had some sizzling steak. We were all happy with our meals, the ambiance, the view and the live music. It was a great time of fellowship and a wonderful ending to a great week of adventure in Ecuador.

Ecuador Part IV: Orphans and Orphanages

2011-04-30T16:57:00.009+03:00

While there is suffering in the world there will always be those who are marginalized and live a disadvantaged life. The need for orphanages has been around for a long time. They can be refuges for children who have been abused, neglected and abandoned. They can be the first home some children have ever understood and the first forms of love they have ever been extended. Many countries around the world have both government and private orphanages and they differ greatly in their services and comfort. I have visited a few orphanages in different countries and have mostly been impressed with the facilities, care provided and dedication displayed by the staffs. They have been well organized and efficiently run. I love orphanages. Every child deserves a place to call home and people who care about them.

Yet, I'm not sure how I feel about international adoption. For instance, is taking a child with special needs outside all they have every known (language, foods, culture) and expecting them to do well in another country the best thing for that child? Especially when many of these orphanages are already offering them one-on-one attention, physical and occupational therapy and peers who are just like them? Can they do that much better in a "developed" country with a foreign family? I wonder if the stress and trauma of change is necessary when they are being cared for and provided for in an orphanage. And what about older children who have already been through several formative development stages? Their ability to adapt and succeed is questionable. Why do we take them from their own concept of home? Why can't we entrust the orphanages and the country to provide training and resources so that when they are old enough to leave the orphanage they can be successful in their own culture?

My own sister was adopted internationally and I wouldn't trade her or our experience with her. But I have seen the struggle she's had with culture, attachment, and cognitive development among other things. I know she belongs with our family. But there are instances where I wonder if it is best for these children to be taken out of their country.

The orphanage Jen works at does half Ecuadorian adoptions and half international adoptions. The light skinned children without disabilities are usually adopted by Ecuadorian families while those with darker tones and/or disabilities are commonly adopted by families from the US, Canada, Sweden and Italy. I really like that Ecuadorians are adopting their own children. I think there needs to be a bigger push for this to happen with other countries and their orphaned children.

We went to one orphanage that has done a great job of being as self-sufficient as possible. Not only do they grown their own crops to be used as food for the orphanage but they also have several IGA (income generating activities) in operation. We got to see the guinea pig building. It was crawling with guinea pigs everywhere! Guinea pig is the national dish in Ecuador and it is eaten for special occasions. One guinea pig meal goes for around $20! This is a great IGA. I was very impressed.

And so, I continue to be shaped and challenged by the experiences I encounter. My world view is always expanding and my understandings and beliefs warp more and more. But really, the bottom line is that I must love all those I meet and hope I love them in the best ways possible.

Ecuador Part III: Mindo

2011-04-29T18:49:00.009+03:00

Ecuador has a variety of landscapes and environments. We decided to leave the hussle and bussle of the capital city and head further West to Mindo, a more jungley area. We took the bus and after several switch-backs, my stomach wasn't feeling so settled. It was a great relief to stop in Mindo, a quaint little town with cobbled streets surrounded by a green jungle. This is one of Jen's favorite places in Ecuador. She took us to a hostal where we stayed in a place that resembled a tree house! I got my own little room at the very top that had windows on all sides. A little stream ran below the tree house and brought calming sounds as we slept peacefully. My personal favorite part was that each bed had a mosquito net! This brought many comforting memories back and made me feel safe and protected in my sleep once again. As the expert mosquito netter, I helped everyone set up their net for the night and then tucked them in. In the morning all agreed it was a great night because of the protection offered by those mosquito nets!

Tree house hostel, my room at the top

Betsy under her mosquito net

The next morning we climbed in the back of a pick-up and bumped along a dirt road going up to the canopy of the forest. Once at the top we stepped into harnesses, placed helmets on our heads and put our hands into heavy-duty work gloves and climbed up to a plateform where we were strapped to a cable. With slight trepidation (lots of trepidation for Betsy), we jumped off and flew over the canopy zip-lining over breathtaking views. It was truly a memorable experience. We flew over deep valleys and small streams. We flew in the clouds at times and brushed tree limbs and leaves at other times. It was a wonderful way to see an Ecuadorian forest/jungle.

With any travels, food can be an important aspect. When traveling with Jen, food is a very important aspect, especially any sweet foods! Ecuador is one of ten countries that pass through the equator and with its strategic location an abundance of food can be grown year-round. We have been busy drinking fresh juice, eating traditional Ecuadorian meals (potato soup, fish, plantains), stopping at every brownie shop along the way and trying ice-cream made from copper bowls.

Jen sent us an itinerary before coming to Ecuador and on this well planned itinerary, several brownie stops were timed in. Not just any brownie though - organic brownies! When I read this part to family members and friends, there was great concern over what "organic" meant. Well, I have tried all these organic brownies and there haven't been any strange feelings after eating them so rest assured, organic doesn't mean any illegal substance.

Fresh trout, plantains and salad Jen and I eating organic brownies
Smashed and fried plantains - reminded me a little of matoke, just a little bit
At a juice bar - made fresh with the ingrediants before us

As with all adventures in the jungle, they must come to an end. After our fun flying over the canopy, eating declicious foods and sleeping peacefully in our tree house beneith mosquito nets, we sat back down on the bus and switch-backed our way back to Quito for the next adventure.

Ecuador Part II: The First Day in Ecuador

2011-04-27T05:21:00.014+03:00

It was in the Houston airport I met up with my good friend Diana from college and her friend Betsy. Diana and I shared long hugs and big smiles as we reunited for the first time in more than 3 years. It seemed fitting to have that reunion at an airport in Texas because the last time I had seen Diana was when I dropped her off at an airport in Texas. It seems we'd come full circle.

We were going to Ecuador to spend time with our friend Jen who works (practically runs) an orphanage in Quito. Do you know those friends who always push you into wild adventures? Who support all the crazy ideas you come up with? Who make you laugh so hard you almost pee your pants? Who have such kind hearts they inspire you to be a better person? That is Jen and Diana to me. With this transitional and unknown current phase of life I am in, the idea of spending time in another country with these two incredible friends has brought me such comfort, excitement and peace.

So here we are in Ecuador, at one of the best run orphanages I have ever seen, thoroughly enjoying life as we love on other people and explore a new place and culture together. Jen has been a knowledgeable guide as she prepped us on cultural importance's (greetings, kissing the cheek) and the running of the orphanage. She has kept us busy this first day. We've been feeding babies, Diana and Betsy swam in the therapy pool with some of the kids, we ate Ecuadorian food, navigated the city buses, visited the equator and had a cooking class with the toddlers.

Jen had seen my pictures of the equator in Uganda and had commented on how small and insignificant it was. I couldn't imagine there being much more to an equator than the sign we have in Uganda so didn't understand her scorn. Well, let me tell you, Ecuador has got some major tourism going on with their equator! They have two equator designations, one pre-GPS and one post-GPS. They are only 200 meters apart which is pretty impressive if you ask me. The pre-GPS designated equator has a giant monument with the world at the top.

Another interesting thing was The post-GPS had different science stations showing the effects of the equator. It was fascinating! They showed us how water going down a drain doesn't swirl on the equator but if you drain it a little bit South or North it will swirl, either clockwise or counterclockwise. Another interesting thing was balancing an egg on a nail. Because of the pull of gravity, the yoke sits at the bottom of the egg. It took some concentration but I managed to get it to balance.

In the evening we did a cooking class with the toddlers making waffles. Of course to make it more fun, Jen had them add blue food coloring. This was probably one of my favorite memories from the day. Watching Jen be completely in action was awe inspiring. Her love for these kids is evident and her dedication to fostering their development is admirable. Jen has an extremely jubilant personality and all those around are infected with this spirit. She makes life fun.

Our adventures in Ecuador are off to a fantastic start!

Feeding the babies

Betsy with Mateo in the therapy pool

Me, Betsy and Diana at the real equator

Friends at the equator! (only 200 m from the exact equator)

Jen in her element cooking with the toddlers

Ecuador Part I: Welcome to Ecuador!

2011-04-26T20:20:00.005+03:00

Family

2011-04-24T15:20:00.004+03:00

The dictionary defines family as, "A group of people who generally share common attitudes, interests, or goals and, frequently, live together." I have the blessing of having so many families. For the last 2 years I had a special family in Uganda of nuns, neighbors and co-workers. While I desperately love this family, I did miss my birth family and I am loving being back with them. There is something about the relationship between sisters that cannot be replicated. We share a love for the performing arts, we attempt to be Bach and play duets together and we laugh about shared experiences growing up in the same house.

Another family I am honored to have is with the William's family. Their parents are friends with my parents and they also have 4 children who are the same ages as my sisters and me. We have spent many dinners, vacations and every-day life times together. I love our meshed family too!

Trista, Me, Melissa and JaNahn

Family is a beautiful concept. It is always evolving - growing and changing in ways that can't always be predicted. I have many families throughout the world! My relationships in them play different parts. Even tomorrow I head off to spend time with another family of mine: 2 members of my college family. Diana and I will explore a little of the world Jen has been living in Ecuador. I am so excited to reconnect with these best friends and bond over our shared histories, common interests and goals for our lives.

Words to Describe Sisters

2011-04-21T15:02:00.006+03:00

There are many words that jump to mind when someone says the word, "sisters." "Pest," is one that comes to mind the fastest for me. While all my sisters have ways of pestering me, this sister, Ashley, has been the biggest pest lately. Last weekend we went to visit my cousin who just had a baby. Ash practically ran to the bathroom to wash her hands first and then used my face to dry them. She just had to be the first to hold baby Eva. Then, last night, we were out for dinner and she insisted on not taking a serious picture. A pest! I am telling you. But I love her anyways.

Another word I can use with sisters is, "proud." I am very proud of my sisters. Most of the time they work hard and do their best to contribute well to society. They think through their actions. They love other people. And they take time to have fun. I don't always agree with their choices as I'm sure they don't always agree with mine. But I am proud of who they are.

My sister Malou graduated from Medical Assistant school last night. It was the most culturally diverse graduation I have ever attended. Out of about 300 students, there were only a few names that resembled the traditional Scandinavian names I know and grew up with. These students are African-American, Hmong, Somolian, Filipino and so many other ethnicity's. I was very impressed with the support the graduates had from their HUGE ethnic families and friends.

One of the graduates spoke on overcoming difficulties in their lives to make it to graduation day. He spoke of students who had babies during the coarse but finished anyways. Other students who had families at home. Students who were unable to pay their bills. Students who ended their marriages and others who started marriages. This school and program worked with a very different clientele than the population I usually attended schools with. Malou had her fair share of troubles too and I am so proud of her for finishing!

I was very encouraged to see the level of support these students had from their families and friends. Maybe it is a different kind of support than I have had but if the mass number in attendance is any indication, despite the social and economic backgrounds of these students, they are loved and people are proud of them just like I love and am proud of my sister Malou.

Spring in Minnesota

2011-04-20T15:15:00.006+03:00

It is April 20th today. April. A popular saying I remember from elementary school says, "April showers bring May flowers." Everyone in Minnesota has been complaining that spring has been late in coming. While we had a glorious weekend in the high 70's, lately the temperatures have dropped and the skies have been cloudy. Where are the showers to bring the flowers? This morning, I woke to the sounds of birds chirping and flying around. I smiled liking the sounds of spring. But when I opened my eyes and looked out the window I was unprepared for the sight that greeted me - falling snow! Let's just say I am NOT happy! Good thing I'm off for South America next week!

My Fortune

2011-04-18T21:45:00.006+03:00

While the elections in Uganda are several months past, unrest is ever present. I have seen on BBC articles stating Besigye, an opposition leader, was staging walk outs and encouraging people to protest rising food prices and corruption in the government. The government would then disperse the police and using tear gas and rubber bullets, stop the protests and arrest Besigye. Besigye was even shot in the hand by a rubber bullet last week. Apparently he is arrested every day as he walks to work and everyday they let him go. Besigye lives near my old home. I talked to Annet this morning and she said everyone in the area is always on edge and she fears passing through there. She told me just the other day the police came through the school she is teacher at and all the students and staff ran away and hide because they were afraid.

It seems to me that it's a little too late to be protesting elections but protesting high food prices isn't necessarily a bad thing. Though, maybe someone who wasn't the opposition should lead the peaceful protests. Uganda really is sad in that there is little to no room to question the government or the way things are done. In the process of people trying, a lot of damage is done. My dear friends living in Besigye's area now live in fear as they walk to the market or try to go to work. Everyone is on edge. It is a sad situation.

I went out for Chinese food with my parents last night. At the end of our meal we opened our fortune cookies and I had to laugh. This is mine:

When I was talking to Annet she was telling me how she was suffering with housing and needs to find an affordable and big enough place for her and Grace. Also, somewhere away from the main road and farther from Besigye's home. I told her I would share my fortune cookie fortune with her. She really didn't understand what a fortune was or that you got it in a cookie. I tried to think of words in Luganda to use to convey my meaning but failed. In the end I read the fortune to her but I think she just thought I was saying it on my own. Regardless, I hope for both of us that this fortune comes true.

Being Lost

2011-04-13T14:49:00.005+03:00

I continue to find adjustment much more difficult than I was expecting. In my head I know about reverse culture shock and I keep thinking knowing about it should be enough. I'm strong. Why is this still affecting me? Well, I've cried in the grocery store, at a restaurant, at seeing a dog park and in my house more times than I like to admit. Now, I'm finding it's not even the number of items that stresses me out anymore. It's the choices we have in life. The choices of being socially responsible are starting to hit me. Do I buy food that is grown locally and more expensive to support my community or do I buy the cheaper mass produced food? Do I buy a shirt that is probably made by children in a sweat shop in Vietnam or a really expensive shirt that wasn't made by slave labor? Do I take home extra food in a Styrofoam container that I know can't be broken down in a landfill or leave the food to be thrown away? How do I mesh my frugality and being socially responsible and standing up for things I believe in with life?

Uganda was so much easier because there weren’t many options. You bought your food from the market or grew your own. You bought second hand clothes from big piles in the taxi park. You burned your garbage or gave it away to countless children who turned your garbage into their treasure. Social responsibility wasn’t much of a thought because you either already were being that, because of circumstances, or you couldn’t because the infrastructure didn’t exists. Before Uganda I was that person who tried to think through each purchase and determine how it affected someone else's life. Now, I still want to be that person but it takes so much effort here! And it's so expensive! And it stresses me out!

A great friend of mine left Uganda 2 days before I did. I wrote to him hoping to hear his easy and practical advice on adjustment and instead found him name some more of my feelings perfectly. He said, “I just fell so...lost, to be honest. A guy once said that, he didn't care too much about the stuff he didn't know. Instead, he cared about the stuff he did know and had wrong. This is kind of how I feel. I guess, before I left, a part of me thought I had things (such as the things you were talking about - the proper take on foreign business, food, American culture and trends...) pretty well figured out. Now I see that this stuff that I knew, I might have gotten wrong. But I don't know how to find the right answer.” Me too!

When someone says, “You’ve been lost,” in Uganda this means they haven’t seen you in a while. I feel like I keep encountering situations and decisions that I want to say, “You’ve been lost,” to. I haven’t had to come face-to-face with so many options and choices in a long time. And I’m living at home not doing too much right now. What will it be like when I have a job and have to conform, in a sense, to the way things are done by that job yet still be an American who is encouraged to think for myself and take stands for what I believe to be truth?

My world view has expanded exponentially. I understand some things in ways I never understood before. Some of what I thought I knew, I now know is wrong. Other things I'm even more sure of as being right. But I don’t know how to reconcile, well, everything! I guess that is the beauty of America – we have the opportunity to critically think and make decisions beyond basic survival. But that task seems so big and daunting to me right now! I guess it’s about time for me to leave the country again.

Reminders

2011-04-11T22:58:00.001+03:00

It is the little things that make me smile and bring the memories of Uganda crashing back.

Last week I was unpacking. I pulled out a bundle of clothes from my big backpack. As I pulled them out a dead cockroach fell out. While in Uganda the dense population of cockroaches in my house annoyed me, this particular one made me smile and I was truly happy to see it.

Today at lunch I ate a mango. It wasn't very sweet and even tasted a bit chemically. I was not impressed. But as I continued to bite into it the juices began dripping down my hands and arms and the strings got stuck in my teeth and on my face. It was in that moment that I was reminded of the many mangoes I ate in Uganda in the exact same fashion with the same effects. I began to smile and was very happy to be eating that mango.

May the little things continue to bring me deep gladness.

Goal 3

2011-04-11T21:54:00.003+03:00

In 1961, President John F. Kennedy established the Peace Corps to promote world peace and friendship. 50 years later it is still going strong. Peace Corps has three simple goals:

1. Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.
2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
3. Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

We spend 27 months focusing on the first two goals. Once we leave and come back to The United States of America, our focus is on goal three. Peace Corps is a lifetime opportunity of work, really.

Recently, I was invited to speak about my experience in Uganda at a book club in my home community. The group is reading a book by the president of World Vision. The author is calling Americans to care more about the global world and to take action. He addresses many of the issues that contribute to world poverty: malaria, HIV/AIDS, food security, etc. It was fun to go and share what I know about Uganda, development and how we as Americans should respond to suffering around the world. I was also really encouraged by this group. They genuinely care about other people and want to do their part as global citizens. The questions they posed were at times insightful and very heartfelt. One thing I love about America is that spirit of wanting to help other people. No matter how misguided we can be, at least we have the desire and heart. If more groups like this one would educate themselves through reading, bringing in speakers and practicing what they learn, maybe development would be more effective and gains would be made to a greater extent.

I will continue to do Goal 3 and tell others about a very different culture and people I used to know. And together, with these Americans who have big hearts, we will work on friendship and world peace.

Phone Calls

2011-04-09T23:07:00.004+03:00

Typically, somewhere in the early teen years there is a switch and children start receiving more phone calls then their parents, or so it seems. This trend continues until the child leaves the house and then it is no longer apparent who is receiving more calls. This isn't a contest, it's just natural progression. At least this is what happened in my house with my 4 sisters and myself. Even when I would come home on breaks from college I would have college friends calling to chat or high school friends calling to arrange times to meet up again. Almost every time the phone rang I knew it was for me or my sisters.

Would you believe that the phone in my house now rings all the time? And it is never for me! At the moment, I am the only daughter living at home and still almost every call that comes in is for my dad. How did he become so popular? I even hear his cell phone going off all the time. Now he's receiving continuous calls on the land-line and on his cell phone!

I finally got a cell phone last week. After much indecision I decided it was necessary. I went with the cheapest plan possible which gave me 500 minutes of talk time and unlimited texts. I thought this would be plenty of time since I am used to brief conversations in Uganda and also because of the lack of receiving calls at my current house, it didn't seem like I had that many people to talk to. Well, in 4 days I went through 458 minutes! I guess those repeated 86 minute conversations to Oakland and hour long talks to D.C., Philly, Georgia, and Uganda add up! While, the phone isn't constantly ringing for me, when I do talk to people it is long and in-depth. I treasure these talks and would not have survived the last week in America without them. But, now if you want to talk to me it's going to have to be after 9 pm or on weekends until next month!

Corruption still lives on...

2011-04-06T15:03:00.003+03:00

I have barely been in America for a week but I feel like I have a toe in each world with the rest of me in some no-mans land. I'm trying to catch-up with friends and family here and also call and let my friends in Uganda know I arrived safely and see how they are doing. I find myself taking deep breathes before I pick up the phone because I know these conversations are going to be emotional for me.

One of the people I have called and talked to the most from my former life in Uganda, is Annet. When I left things were still up in the air for her and I continue to be concerned for her and Grace's future. While Annet was technically transferred she was still living at St. Theresa when I left because she had no where to go. Once a teacher is transferred they collect a letter from the District offices and report to the new school where the Head Teacher must accept them. The first school Annet was transferred to wanted a P7 Math teacher, a level and subject Annet is not qualified to teach. So this Head Teacher rejected her and sent her back to the District. The second school Annet was transferred to said they are over staffed and won't accept another teacher. This is the same story the third school gave her too. Weekly, Annet travels to the District office to get a new school and letter. She then goes to the school only to be repeatedly rejected. She is spending money on transportation that she doesn't have. And she feels her time is wasted.

Just before I left, Annet met a nice man at the District who told her the District would continue sending her around without making any of the Head Teachers accept her until she offered them a bribe. Of course, I was incensed at this and she calmly told me that's how it is in Uganda. When I left, she was trying to figure out how to get enough money to bride an official. A typical bribe in this situation is around 100,000 - 200,000 Ugandan Shillings (50 - 100 dollars!).

I talked to Annet on the phone the other day and she exclaimed with much gladness, that she has been accepted by a Head Teacher at a school not too far from Gayaza. When I asked her how, she told me she had gotten someone to pay the bribe for her. How does a system that claims to teach students truth and raise them to be moral Ugandan citizens function so heavily on corruption and deceit? It makes me sick.

I am very happy for Annet that she has a place to work now. When I talked to her she was busy packing up and getting ready to move. It's the end of the term already so there won't be much work for her yet but at least she has a place to go and a purpose to fulfill. It is nice to hear of my Ugandan friends continuing to succeed in their own, sometimes warped, ways.

On Being Special

2011-04-05T17:50:00.002+03:00

When we were preparing to finish up our Peace Corps service we were told about some of the things that were going to affect us when we got back to America. One was the fact that not many people would think we were so special anymore. This may sound strange but after 2 years of being openly stared at, called after, invited as the guest of honor, made to give important impromptu speeches and given many heartfelt gifts on a weekly basis just because of the color of your skin and citizenship, walking down the street and not being noticed was going to be an adjustment.

In Uganda, there were many moments I hated being called mzungu and always being different. Now, I'm in America and finding moments where I wish people would notice the white color of my skin and push me to the front of the line. Though the full brunt of this hasn't completely settled in yet because of my dear mom. You see, my mom walks with a cane. A cane in America is almost like being white in Uganda. People part like the Red Sea when they see a woman coming with a cane.

Last weekend we went to the Science Museum of Minnesota to see the traveling King Tut exhibit and go to the Omnitheater. A certain number of people were let in to the exhibit at a time and you had to have tickets for specific times. Well we wanted the best seats and good positions to start the tour. I suggested slipping someone a little bribe. My mom just smiled and said, "Watch how I do it!" She hobbled up to the nice museum people making sure to lean heavily on her cane and before you knew it, we were moved to the front of the line and let in first! Without paying anyone!

While my mom actually needs a cane and special modifications, the color of my skin isn't such a reason for being given extra attention. It is a little bit of an adjustment but for now, I'm happy to use my mom as the means to get what I want, when I want it. Ha ha. I guess I have a few issues to work on.

Reverse Culture Shock

2011-04-01T22:48:00.004+03:00

I have heard about culture shock for years and experienced it at times throughout my PC service to various degrees. Often times I like to think I am stronger than the patterns psychology tells us we fit into. I've always read about people who return to America from some cross-culture experience and find themselves crying in the grocery store. I was not going to be one of those people. I know about culture shock and reverse culture shock. I have tried to mentally prepared myself for reentry into consumer-culture America so I wasn't going to be as affected as those other people who couldn't handle readjustment.

Today, I went to the grocery store with my mom. We walked in and I looked at the waxy looking fruits and vegetables. We passed aisles and aisles of foods I hadn't seen in 2 years. I told my mom how ridiculous the number of choices we have for canned tomatoes was. Throughout our time in what I believe is an excessive grocery store, I felt in control of my feelings and believed all the talk of reverse culture shock wasn't going to happen to me. I'm stronger than that.

But then we turned into the dairy section and something switched inside me. My skin began to itch. My chest felt heavy and I found myself taking deeper breaths. I touched my mom's sleeve and told her we needed to get out of there soon. She turned to me smiling about to make a joke then saw my face and asked why. And then, the tears started flowing out of my eyes. I couldn't stop them. She passed me the car keys and I ran out of the grocery story crying. Yes, I am like all those other people who get struck by reverse culture shock. Human behavior really isn't all that different. We're not as unique and special as we like to think. As educated and aware of the facts of culture shock and reverse culture shock I am, I still must go through it. I guess a new phase begins...

Surprises

2011-03-31T02:30:00.015+03:00

You know you're back in America when:
1. No one unashamedly stares at you as you walk by
2. There is more than one option for the flavor of your coffee, and the size of your coffee and the darkness of your coffee!
3. There is no dirt under your fingernails after a whole day away from your house
4. Your hair is staticy and skin dry from winter dryness
5. You understand everyones English

That's right folks, I'm in America! I officially COSed (close of service) and became a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer on the 29th of March 2011. I have successfully completely my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was an incredible 2 years of self-discovery, fun adventures, deep friendships, memorable events and life perspective changing. I am eternally thankful for the opportunity I had to live and love in Uganda and I will forever be affected by this experience.

My leaving Uganda was a hard decision and not one I particularly wanted to do but needed to. When I decided to move back to the States I needed to have something fun to look forward to. So I decided to surprise my friends and family. I let my parents in on this and we worked out plans to make it all happen. I flew into Minneapolis/St. Paul around lunch time where I was greeted at the airport with a fresh hot cup of coffee, many warm layers of winter clothing and beaming parents. They drove me to see one of my best friends from growing up at her work. Her office is near the door and she saw me coming. Soon the office door flew open and Ashley came hurrying out with arms wide open exclaiming, "Is this for real?" And followed by her husband saying, "I didn't expect to see you today." We went out for lunch with them and all continued to look at one another in semi-disbelief. It all felt so normal and yet unreal.

Bart, Ashley and Me

Next, we headed over to my sister and brother-in-law's place. Erik, my wonderful brother-in-law, was in on the surprise and let us into their apartment to wait for Ash to come home from work. We drank coffee and caught up on life while waiting then hid along the wall to surprise Ash. She couldn't believe I was there! Of course one of my first observations was that she was wearing my scarf and had my vest. Little sisters are always stealing older sisters clothes and they think they can get away with it! That's why surprises are good - you catch them red handed:)

My mom had set up a Skype date with my sisters Melissa in California and Angela in Israel. We all gathered around Ash's computer and she logged on. I hid out of the cameras view and after greeting the girls Ash said she wanted them to meet her special guest. Now, Angela was hoping to see a new baby that Ash and Erik would have adopted since she's dying to be an aunt and Melissa was thinking it might be a cat. They were both wrong and I slide into view. Their shocked expressions and tears were priceless.

My first few hours back in America were such fun times. It was great to be able to suprise my friends and family. Everyone is happy to have me back and part of me is happy to be here too.

Mom, Me, Ash and Dad

I feel very welcomed home. I was given my favorite coffee at the airport, Mom and Ash made delicious gluten-free pizza for dinner, there were fresh flowers in my room and mints on my pillow. Thanks to Ang and her quick facebook update, I also received several calls and e-mails from friends who saw her say I was home. The ease and speed of communication is something I'm going to have to get used to again. And so, life in America begins. This is the life I have always known. My life in Uganda was different. But Uganda did change me. I'm not sure how it'll all play out but America, let's go!

Mom, Me and Ash eating gluten-free pizza

Goodbyes

2011-03-29T14:26:00.013+03:00

Goodbyes are inevitable. We are forced to make them at many junctions throughout our lives. It's not until you must say goodbye to a whole community that you realize how many people have affected your daily life. For the last few weeks I have been working on saying goodbye to Gayaza, Peace Corps and Uganda in general. Last week I attended several goodbye lunches with close friends, goodbye parties/ceremonies at local schools I had worked in, goodbye dinners with co-workers and had several goodbye visits from community members. I ate more matoke wrapped in banana leaves and g-nut sauce each day than I've possibly eaten in 2 years. O.k. that might be a little exagerations but still, it was a lot! There were a few days I had multiple lunches. My stomach hurt from forcing down such heavy meals within an hour of each other. But my heart was beating with thankfulness and pure joy at having such wonderful friends who gave from their hearts and culture by making special goodbye meals to share with me one last time. And so, I say goodbye to my wonderful and unique home and all my dear friends who made my experience a truly memorable one.

Goodbye Gayaza market where I shopped for fresh food several times a week Goodbye Peter, a Gayaza street food vendor Goodbye Gayaza chapati man who always greeted me in Luganda Goodbye Gayaza boda men who called me Nalubega and always wanted to take me for a ride though I always refused

Goodbye Gayaza supermarket who sold me the cheapest apples in the area Goodbye mukwano (friend) who worked in the supermarket and always welcomed me in Goodbye Gayaza fresh dairy where I bought yogurt every morning Goodbye daily walks and fun adventures with my little friend Grace Goodbye Joan and baby Ellen who taught English with me to adults from Gayaza Goodbye Mildred, Alvin, Gertrude, and Maggie who played with me and loved me Goodbye Joan, Susan, Allan and Norah who taught me about the plight of women in Uganda and the health needs and concerns of Gayaza Goodbye Annet who showed me how to look out for the best interest of others and always love children Goodbye belongings that only work and fit in in Uganda Goodbye sweeping with small sticks gathered together and goodbye to my cute little house where I lived alone for the first time in my life Goodbye PCV friends who still have more work to do in Uganda

Goodbye Uganda! You are LOVED!

Cross-Cultural Sharing and Friendship

2011-03-26T08:24:00.006+03:00

I have been trying to find time to go and visit Jen but time is not on my side these days. She offered to meet me in Kampala and I decided that would have to do. A friend of mine is out of town and I had the keys to his house so decided to meet Jen there to make dinner together. A long time ago Jen asked me to teach her to make pizza. This seemed like the right time to do that. It was a fun night of catching up and hearing about Jen's new life. We reminisced about our friendship and we talked about mutual people we know. It felt so normal and good to be with her again. I have missed her presence. I continue to appreciate and value the friendships I have made in Uganda.

Election Season is Finally Over

2011-03-23T06:38:00.002+03:00

Elections in Uganda, and much of Africa for that matter, are a several week process. Our elections took most of February and March. There were elections for President, Members of Parliament, and Local Council members (5 branches worth!). Every week was a different position and a public holiday was announced where everyone was encouraged to go and vote. As you can imagine, not a lot of work happened over these many weeks. I wondered why they couldn't do all the voting at once but after seeing the ballots and hearing the voting stories, I realized it would have been even more chaotic than it already was. Each ballot had the name, political symbol and picture of the people running. You voted either by signing your name or by stamping your finger print. Then each card had to be counted by hand. For a few elections the ballot boxes were already full at 7 am when the polling stations opened. While there was a lot of talk about anti-corruption and not rigging the votes, it seems it still existed.

Elections have officially ended now. Everyone is getting back into the swing of work and school and peace seems to reign. A few runners contested the outcomes of the elections and the Electoral Committee is busy recounting and handling those localized situations. There was a lot of hype leading up to the elections and the actual season of elections was rather anti-climatic. There were a few incidents of violence but nothing large scale. I am glad Uganda had peaceful elections and I hope peace prevails along with positive progress. We shall see which politicians follow through on their promises. So, until the next season of elections, God bless Uganda.

Mob Justice and Graphic Media

2011-03-22T13:44:00.005+03:00

Police tend to be corrupt in Uganda. They fall prey to bribes easily and often think themselves more important then their jobs and fail to actually do their jobs. This leave many people who do not believe in the police. Communities have then taken on mod justice to fix trouble that occurs. I was reading the newspaper yesterday and saw this picture and article. A man was caught stealing and the community striped him of his clothes and tried to beat him. He took off running and ran to the police for protection. While the police do not always go out and settle disputes or apprehend offenders, they also don't kill people. They are a safe place. This thief sought refuge at the police station because at least his physical life wouldn't be in jeopardy. He will probably go to jail now. If a thief shows up at the police they don't have far to go to take them to jail so they will at least do that.

It's interesting to read the newspaper or watch news programs on TV in Uganda. They are incredibly graphic. Full on nudity is shown, brutally murdered bodies are displayed and graphic language is used. People seem so desensitized to it all. Often times I have to turn my head and completely avoid the pictures I see. They are too disturbing and horrifying. I think we are also over stimulated with graphics in America and we also become desensitized to horror. Yet, it seems different to me somehow. I'm not exactly sure what the difference is. Maybe it's because the people I see and hear about in America are far removed from me. They are from some other State, or some other country. But here, I read about my town, an acquaintance's family member or a tribe I know well. Maybe this is closer to my understanding of reality than my reality in America. Whatever it is, it's upsetting.

Oh, Uganda. While I won't miss the corruption, the lack of infrastructured justice, or the graphic media, I will miss the little things that make it different - ie. mob justice, poor quality news, etc.

Uganda, I will miss you!

2011-03-20T15:13:00.007+03:00

I spent this past week in the East of Uganda for work. I had many schools to visit and they were deep in the bush which means a lot of rough roads to bump along. It was a fairly successful trip but I did come back tired. As I got out of the taxi in Gayaza and began my walk home I felt my shoulders were sagging and my legs dragged. But then I heard, “Nalubega! Kulikyu! (welcome back),” and “Nalubega, how was the journey,” and “Welcome Home, Amanda!” The enthusiastic greetings I receive after a long journey always give me energy and a big smile spreads its way across my face as I return the well wishes and engage in the greeting process once again. I feel loved in Gayaza. I am happy to have had this town as my home. There are many things I am going to miss about Uganda. The warmth and kindness I feel daily from greetings is just one such thing.

The other day, I had called Annet to check on her. From that conversation some miscommunication ensued. She thought I was bringing a friend home with me and since I’d been gone for a while she knew my house would be dusty and dirty, not what a visitor should see. So, she went to my house and swept it out, washed my floors and tidied my belongings so that it looked good for me and my visitor. She also thought I would be too tired to cook an appropriate meal for my visitor so made fresh fish and matoke for us. The only problem with this is that I didn’t bring home a visitor! But again, this hospitality and thoughtfulness is something I am going to truly miss. I feel so incredibly loved here. If everyone felt as loved as I do we would have world peace.

On a different note, some volunteers have made top 10 or top 20 lists over the years of ways you’ve adapted Uganda too much. It’s amazing the things we adjust and adapt to. I think I have embraced almost all of these “signs.” I can just add these to the list of things I will probably miss about Uganda – maybe not immediately, but in time. This is a mixture of two recent lists that were sent out to volunteers.

Top 20 signs you’ve been living in Uganda too long

20. You constantly say “somehow.”
19. You start all sentences with “Ssebo” or “Nnyabo” when addressing people.
18. You prefer latrines to toilets.
17. You consider a four hour matatu ride to be a short journey.
16. You never throw out a box or plastic bag because someone will probably use it.
15. You begin hoarding food because you aren’t sure when you will be able to get more.
14. You have to plan your day around the rain.
13. You don’t consider a taxi full until there are at least two people in the driver’s seat.
12. Your definition of a balanced diet involves three shades of starch
11. You think, “Why go all the way to the latrine to pee when I have a bucket/bush/tree right here?”
10. You stop showing up to meetings on time because you know you will be the only person there for several hours.
9. You refuse to spend an extra ki-kumi (5 cents) at the market based on principal.
8. You feel “smart” when you put on a button up and paisley skirt from the early 90's.
7. You need to clarify time by using “now now” or “just now.”
6. You ask which foods are available at a restaurant, even when you have a menu in front of you!
5. You need your cell phone when using the latrine at night. *
4. Someone asks you where the toilet is and you point with your lips.
3. You often ask, “Is power there?”
2. 8pm is the new midnight and midnight is . . .unthinkable.
1. You look both ways before crossing one-way streets . . . and sidewalks . . . and it has save your life, multiple times.

*To shed light on #5, our cell phones have a torch (flashlight) built into them

Life Decisions

2011-03-17T06:24:00.003+03:00

After much deliberation and advice seeking, I have finally made my decision. I am leaving Uganda. This comes with a small sense of peace and a lot of heartache. I know this is the right decision and the time is now but it is always hard to leave something you love. I must now begin telling my friends and community here that I am going. I already started and have been surprised with the tears I am meeting. I don't think they really thought I would leave Uganda! I think they thought I would move to Kampala and get a job but not that I'd actually leave the country. Ugandan's rarely cry so when I see my dear friends tear up it also brings the tears to the forefront, a place they are not far from these days. I love Uganda!

It's hard to hear people say they will never see me again, something I can't refute. I hope to come back to Uganda but there is no guarantee I will or that I will see everyone if I do come. These goodbyes are likely final goodbyes. How do you say goodbye to someone forever? Sure, we can try and stay in contact but Ugandan's are forever loosing their phones and phone numbers, they don't have mailboxes and many don't know how to work a computer. I did teach a few of my closest friends how to use e-mail and set them up with accounts so at least we will start there.

And so, the clock is officially ticking down. My house needs to be packed and cleaned out, I'm going to have my last days of work and somehow, I need to say goodbye to everyone I have made a part of my life. 27 months, how did you come so fast?

Amanda's Luxury Taxi Service

2011-03-16T14:41:00.003+03:00

Transportation in Uganda is almost always a squished affair. Someone else's body part(s) is inevitably poking into one of yours. Personal space does not exist. You will find matatus that say they are licensed to carry 14 passengers with 26 people inside! It has been with much appreciation and thanksgiving that my current job has provided me with a car and driver to take me around to the various sites and volunteers in the field. I get to relax in an air-conditioned Land Cruiser and fly through all those annoying check points because of the CD (Country Diplomat) letters on our license plates. I haven't had to battle conductors trying to over charge me, feared for my life as the bus flies around narrow mountain corners or most importantly, dealt with the insufferable smells that come from too many over-heated bodies in a small cramped space.

With that being said, today I had the funniest experience in my nice comfortable Land Cruiser. I first picked up the Deputy Principal of Outreach from a Primary Teacher's College in the East of Uganda. He was taking me around to the different Coordinating Centers (CC) that will be receiving volunteers next month. We were at one CC where we picked up the Coordinating Center Tutor (CCT) and the Head Teacher (H/T) of the CC primary school. After visiting a house that was not suitable for a volunteer, the CCT called the chair person of the school committee that handles finances and housing. We picked him up and went to see another house. Now the back seat of the Land Cruiser had 3 tall full grown men and 1 over weight woman. Things were a bit tight back there. We continued on to the next house, which also failed my standards, and the chair person called to check on yet another option. But first we had to go pick up a man who could show us that house. So, in piles another big man making 5 Ugandan adults completely and utterly squished together and on top of one another in my back seat. I, on the other hand, sat in my big, single front seat - all alone. The funniest part is that we literally drove 30 seconds farther. When I commented that we could have just walked the H/T said they had wanted to travel in style.

Another Season

2011-03-14T11:22:00.000+03:00

The rains have come! It's been a long dry and hot season these last few months. Everyone has said the rains would come in March but the first of March came and went and I doubted the accuracy of the Ugandans telling me so. As the dry season has crept later and later the effects are becoming more visible. The fruits and vegetables in my market have become smaller and less colorful. There are radio announcements and Government sent text messages about food scarcity and possible famine in different parts of the country. And the cost of posho (maize flour) has almost doubled. Ugandans have told me they are eating only one meal a day and praying the rains come quickly and not too heavily that they wreck the crops or cause landslides and other property damage.

Well, they have come! And not too hard yet. I think the rainy season officially began two days ago. We had a good down pour for about an hour. I was tempted to think it was only a fluke and that the rainy season wasn't really starting but then it rained again yesterday for an hour and now, today, there is thunder, lightening and rain!

I am a girl who typically relishes light and warmth. In the past, I associated rain with dreary gray skies, bone-chilling cold and frizzy hair. But my perspective has changed since living in Uganda. Now, rain is a welcome respite from the insufferable heat, it settles the swirling dust and it gives me an excuse to take an hour long nap in the middle of the day.

Yesterday, an especially loud clap of thunder sent Grace flying into my house with a scream and eyes bugging out of her head. She ran into my arms and we snuggled down on my couch to read a book. Soon my eyes became heavy. The rain began to fall and I had to get up anyway to adjust my upside-down umbrella catching the rain that leaks through my roof. I put a bucket on the ground to catch rain from another hole too. Then I called Grace into my bedroom and we laid down on my bed listening to the gentle taps of rain on my tin roof. It was a nice rain, not a deafening one. Lulled by the steady sound and the warm body heat, we soon fell asleep. Grace's little arms were entwined with mine and my chin rested on her head. Almost an hour later, we woke to the slowing of the rain. Grace sat up and wiped her mouth at which point I realized my arm was covered in drool. We smiled at one another and moved to get on with the rest of the afternoon. I love the beginning of the rainy season!

We Are Strong, We are Women

2011-03-11T08:59:00.003+03:00

Women Embrace Your Role

2011-03-10T13:56:00.003+03:00

International Women's Day

2011-03-09T19:00:00.008+03:00

March 8th is International Women's Day and in many countries around the world it is a national holiday. Uganda marks this day as a national holiday. They say the men do the cooking on International Women's Day but I have yet to see this happen. I think the women work just as hard the only difference is that everyone says, "Happy Women's Day!"

International Women's Day was first celebrated in 1911 to honor the work of the suffragettes. It has continued to be celebrated to celebrate the successes of women around the world and also to bring light to the inequalities that still exist and need to be addressed. Gender still remains one of the biggest divides in our world today. While half the population of the world is female, they account for much less than half of the world's power and wealth.

I had the honor to attend an International Women's Day event put on by a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mbarara District. Natalie works at a secondary school for girls. She organized to have fellow volunteers come and lead Life Skills lessons on Role Models, Self-Esteem, Menstruation and other life skills. The girls attended sessions in the morning then had a special lunch that included meat. Meat is expensive and only eaten on special occasions so the girls were very excited. After lunch everyone met in a large group and a program followed that included a poetry reading, a fashion show, the choir performing and a speech from the Head Teacher.

I was especially pleased to see my friend Faith there leading the fashion show. Faith was one of my Ugandan counselors at Camp GLOW. The fashion show featured different outfits women wear: traditional, business, every-day and creative wear (made out of banana leaves). Faith talked to the girls about being confident in what they wear and the successes they will have in the future. I am proud of the work she continues to do with the girls of Uganda.

Girls singing about women embracing their roles

Girl playing the drum

Faith speaking to the girls

Site Development and Volunteer Support

2011-03-07T16:51:00.002+03:00

A few months ago I was approached by Peace Corps and offered a temporary position doing Site Development and Volunteer Support. At first I didn’t want the job because I wanted to spend my last few months at site. Then, when two of my best friends were transferred I didn’t really want to be around site too much. So I took the job and am a month and a half in and loving it. I still live in Gayaza and commute to Kampala on days I work in the office. I spend several days a week in the field and get to be home on weekends.

A large part of what I do is visit schools around the country who qualify to receive a volunteer. The Ugandan Ministry of Education gives Peace Corps a list of secondary schools and Primary Teacher Colleges that they’d like Americans to help. The first visit is one where I introduce what Peace Corps is and ask if they’d like to have a volunteer live and work with them for 2 years. I feel like Santa Clause on these visits. I am a complete surprise to them and get to bring a gift. What Ugandan school doesn’t want a white person?! Everyone I have talked to gets so excited and can’t stop thanking me for choosing their school. As if it were all my doing – ha!

Those were the first visits I made. Now, a month later, I am going to schools to follow up and check on the improvements the schools have made to housing for a volunteer and meet with the head teacher or counter part to reiterate the role of a volunteer in their school and what their responsibility will be to that volunteer.

I’ve found that secondary schools will bend over backwards to make it work. They are actively fixing up housing to meet Peace Corps standards. They’ve designated a desk in the staff room for the volunteer. They’ve prepared their teachers to welcome another teacher. They want a volunteer and they are going to do whatever Peace Corps asks so that they get that volunteer.

Primary Teacher College’s and Coordinating Centers, on the other hand, have not met the standards I carry and I often leave feeling demoralized and hopeless. They quickly ask for money to fix up the house that looks like it’ll fall in on a volunteer. Many don’t take any responsibility for their part in hosting a volunteer. I continue to question why we have this program when it never seems to work. Many volunteers who are placed at Coordinating Centers, including yours truly, find a system that looks great on paper but isn’t being carried out well in the community, if at all. It’s a government job which means payment may or may not come. Which means the Coordinating Center Tutor may or may not work. You work with other unmotivated teachers who are set in their ways and don’t want to learn different teaching techniques. Many volunteers start looking outside their coordinating centers for work, like I did. Because of my experience, I am able to look at these coordinating centers very critically and question them from different angles. I’m able to see their attitude, right from the beginning with getting appropriate housing and determine if they’ll make a good enough effort to place a volunteer there. Thankfully, my supervisor listens to my judgment and if I say the place isn’t going to work, she crosses it out and we go back to the drawing board. This job comes with a lot of responsibility and pressure I wasn’t expecting.

Along with site development, I also get to do volunteer support. This means I go and visit volunteers. I sit and have tea with them and hear how life in Uganda is going for them. It’s fun and I hope I bring them encouragement. It’s been really encouraging for me too, to see what other volunteers are doing around the country. Uganda is full of some pretty awesome Peace Corps Volunteers who are truly making positive impacts in their communities!

As I visit these sites I get excited with the enthusiasm I am met with. I see the beautiful locations in the foothills of great mountains, along the boarder with DR Congo, beside a rushing river, in the middle of a busy town with hardworking woman selling their goods, or amongst a thousand running, yelling and laughing brown faced children in school. I hear about the projects volunteers will be active in: teaching motion in a physics class with never used lab equipment, harnessing solar rays to power a computer lab, leading an HIV club and partnering with the local bee keepers to provide teachers with a natural sweetener for their morning tea. It makes me want to sign up for another 2 year tour of Peace Corps Uganda!

This is a good job for me to have at the end. It is something tangible that I am good at. It is giving me a sense of accomplishment and I feel I have come full circle. I have lived and loved Uganda for 2 years. On site development, I know what other volunteers need to survive and be happy here. Granted, we are all different and come with different attitudes and expectations. But I know what basics to look for that will aid in the contentment of a volunteer. I know how to talk and interact with Ugandans in authority. I carry on a conversation that is culturally sensitive and shows our shared humanity at the same time. When I visit volunteers, I know that sometimes another volunteer just needs someone to vent to. I know how to point at those small victories and remind volunteers why they are here.

As the completion of my 27 months of service approaches faster and faster, I am happy preparing the way for new volunteers in this country that will forever hold a part of my heart. May they be as happy, hardworking and motivated as some of the volunteers I visit and I myself tried to be. It’ll be worth it all!

The Impact

2011-03-06T20:31:00.002+03:00

I have new neighbors with small children. I haven’t been around much so haven’t gotten to know them. I have been traveling a lot for work and a few weeks ago when I was back talking to Annet she told me about a conversation she had heard between Grace and Mercy, my new 4 year old neighbor.

Mercy: “Grace, where did your mzungu go?”
Grace: “What?”
Mercy: “Where did you send your mzungu?
Grace: “What?”
Mercy: “Why did you send your mzungu away?”
Grace: “She’s not my mzungu. She’s my Amanda.”
Mercy: “Where did you send your Amanda?”

Swimming

2011-03-04T12:22:00.006+03:00

One thing that surprises me about Uganda is the many swimming pools it holds. There is even a swimming pool near my house. It’s extremely ghetto. You used to walk through some slums to get there, but they have been torn down and now you just walk through dirt heaps that is starting to resemble a landfill with all the garbage people throw there. Once you get to the pool it’s almost like an oasis. The pool is clean, has music playing and it's full of Ugandans! This is the most surprising part because all the other pools in Uganda seem to be full of white people. Another thing my pool has that is unique is a pile of swim suits for rent. Yes, for rent. If you don’t have a swim suit, or swimming costume as they are called here, you can just rent one for 1000 shillings, about 50 cents. I personally have never needed to use this service but last weekend I witnessed the process for the first time.

I have wanted to take Grace swimming for months/a year. I finally got around to it last weekend. Grace and I boarded a taxi and headed off to the pool where we met up with Celeste and her little neighbor Pauline. What followed was four hours of fun. Neither Grace or Pauline had ever been swimming before. I sewed a pair of my swim suit bottoms tight for Grace to wear and gave her a tank top. Celeste didn’t have anything to offer Pauline so she rented a swim suit from the pile. It was actually pretty cute and we figured it wasn’t so gross for little kids.

Grace and Pauline clung to the edge extremely hesitant to take any steps further into the kiddy pool. They also are not used to the sport of swimming and found themselves getting very cold just standing in the water. Their little lips shivered and I imagined they turned blue though with black skin it’s difficult to tell. After a few hours, they found a little more boldness and began splashing around. They LOVED swimming and both went home claiming having learned to swim. It was a very successful day at the pool. Now, I have to hear stories about Grace and her new friend Pauline and the time they learned how to swim. Oh, and hear the question, “when will we go again?”

Encouragement

2011-02-26T15:59:00.008+03:00

When I first came in as a PCV I was given a paper titled, “Critical Periods In The Life Of A Peace Corps Volunteer.” It is a chart breaking up the different months and periods of our service with the corresponding feelings and behaviors we will/would experience. I have looked at this chart at various times over the last 2 years and always found myself right on mark. As I have been cleaning out my house I stumbled upon it once more and was encouraged to read that my feelings and reactions are normal for months 23 – 27.

According to the chart this is what I’m dealing with:

-trauma of departure
-concerns about social re-entry
-bridging Uganda with US / former identity
-re-definition of “career”
-closer or re-definition of Uganda based on relationships

And this is what I should be feeling:

-fright
-confusion
-alienation
-anxiety
-panic
-giddiness
-impatience
-obsession with planning and scheduling

Now, I don’t fit every description – giddiness and impatience not so much but the rest YES THAT’S ME! This chart was created by COSing volunteers in Senegal in the mid-1980’s. It sure is incredible how applicable it is 20 years later. It just shows human behavior doesn’t change that much.

There is a basket on the top of my bookshelf where I have kept all the cards, letters, wedding invitations, and baby announcements I have received from dear friends and family. These have come from places all around the world and have brought me so much encouragement, inspiration and love over the last 2 years. I re-read them the other day and laughed, smiled and cried. I spread them out across my floor and felt my heart over-flowing with thankfulness for the love and support I have from all you people in my life. I sincerely would not have made it through these 27 months of Peace Corps service without all you have given me.

So, Thank You from the bottom of my heart for:

The memories to remind me how special our relationships are:

• “Starbucks, matching outfits, road trips and laughter.”
• “The ‘camping trip’ down at the crick with Treva and Heidi and ‘floating’ down the crick in tire tubes from the tractor. Oh the days!”
• “When you are lonely, remember our trip to Alaska and what nerds we were – me who never showered and wore the same clothes day after day and always stole your overalls and you with your eye mask and plaid flannel shirts.”
• “Chocolate chip pancakes in the shape of Mickey Mouse that your mom used to make for us.”
• “What are you doing for your birthday? Let me describe the birthday fun we would have if you were here (it’s all small memories we’ve done being put together). I would suggest we spend the day at the beach after a lazy breakfast and sipping coffee on a porch. At the beach we would read great books, eat humus, chips, cheese and fruit, we would go for walks and share what we were thinking and struggling through. Then after we were a bit more tan, we would go home, take a nap and get ready for a fun night in the city. We would dress up and go dancing with all your friends.”

Making me laugh:

• “I hope that the flight went smoothly and that you still have all of your underwear!”
• “I’m writing this in the service. We just got done praying for you – that’s cool. Right now it is the offering so I’m not writing during the sermon or anything important. Oops, here comes the scripture reading. O.k. I’m back, but now I have to hurry because the sermon is starting. Have a great day!”
• “Amanda, please figure out the best way not to get worms. It would be nice if Treva and I didn’t get any if we come to visit. Plus, I hope you enjoy your African experience.”
• “I don’t know when you will open this, but it is probably hot there and cold here. You sweat – I shiver, and both of us think the other one has it better! (I’m right!)”
• “I am sending you 2 packages today. One of them has an interesting dress in it that somehow looked sooooo Ugandan! I doubt you’d wear it anywhere else!”

Knowing the days I’d have:

• “A day when you wonder, ‘Why am I doing this?’”
• “On the worst day you couldn’t possibly imagine.”
• “A day when you could just use a friend.”
• “For a ‘I miss my friends, my home, good coffee, and I feel like this isn’t going to end and I could use a hug right now,’ kind of day.”
• “The ‘sun is shining and I’m so happy’ day.”
• “On a ‘I need a martini’ day.”

Your sound advice:

• “Go running among the goats and beautiful children.”
• “Eat a lot of fruit.”
• “Feel free to cry more than you feel like you should.”
• “Find people who will celebrate life with you – people that know how wonderful you are and share your values and your dreams. People that love you almost as much as your family and friends back home.”
• “Stay away from the bats.”
• “Take lots of pictures – the dancing evening sounded hilarious! Hope you are capturing some of this on film.”

And all the Love a girl could read:

• “Dear Amanda, I miss you so so so so much. Happy Valentine’s Day. Have fun in Africa. Love, Corinna”
• “I LOVE YOU! I’m picturing you riding a bicycle in Africa from village to village. A lady’s bike, basket and all! Picture me riding along with you, hey maybe it’ll happen:)”
• I wish I could squeeze myself into your luggage and go along with you – but I know you are only allowed a certain amount of weight, and I alone probably exceed it! I love you Amanda and I miss you so much.”
• “I love you so much and am so blessed to have you as my sister. I’m proud of you for stepping out and doing what you believe is right. Thanks for being one of my heroes!”
• “Amanda, I am so proud of you, wherever you are. I pray only that you continue to love and continue to give. I think the ability we have to choose love, the ability to tell our stories, share ourselves, express, create beauty, heal, redeem, humble ourselves etc. etc. is what makes us most human and most like God. It also helps us reverse the suffering somehow. This is why I am so excited about your life and what you’ve chosen to do. Keep loving. You are loved here.”

Spring Cleaning - changing

2011-02-24T14:22:00.002+03:00

I have a hard time with change. I hate it! I have even been known to become immobile when it comes to change. I shut down and become incapable of functioning. I dissolve into tears and feel utterly overwhelmed. Realizing this about myself and also knowing change is coming and I have to face it, I decided to slowly start the processes of packing up and cleaning out my house. If I do it a little at a time maybe it won’t overwhelm me so much.

I decided to start with my closet. I have no idea how I accumulated so many clothes! I’m supposed to be living simply in deepest darkest Africa, right? Somehow I lost sight of the “simple” factor in regards to clothing. Each piece of clothing brought back some memory from the last few years. What should have taken me half an hour to sort through took me 2 hours of reminiscing and fighting with myself. I separated the ones I know I’ll never wear again, the ones I could potentially never wear again and the ones I can’t live without, at least for the next few months. Then I bundled them up in a cloth bag and walked down the road to the health center where my good friends Susan, Christine, Maureen, and Norah work.

What ensued were moments of pure excitement, thankfulness and friendship. Christine and Susan were the only ones working at the time and they laid out all the clothes on a hospital bed making piles of skirts, shirts, dresses, jeans and bras. Once they had it arranged they then went pile by pile, flipping through as if they were in Owino (the big market in Kampala). They would scream in delight over different articles and hold it up against each other. There were many comments of, “This one will be good for Norah because of her big breasts,” and “My cabina (butt) looks good in tight jeans,” and “You take this one for that girl of yours because she’ll look smart.” They were even excited over my over hand-washed, disfigured bras.

There were many pauses while flipping through where sentences started like this: “Oh, Amanda, I remember when you wore this…” and “Amanda, your cabina always swings so much when you wear this. I remember it best.” It is interesting how clothes have some effect in how we are remembered. It was really fun to share my clothes with these friends. I don’t like giving things away, especially in Africa where I think a culture of entitlement has come about from all the money pumped in. But seeing how sharing my clothes with my friends was allowing them to keep pieces of me, it made me feel good. This first change hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would be. Maybe I can handle change after all!

The Naked Moments

2011-02-23T18:09:00.000+03:00

I left my house to go to the market this morning. As I was walking through the school compound on my way out I heard the shouts of fun and delight from students on the pitch (large field used for sports). It was early in the morning so I knew this meant the P1’s were out for P.E. (physical education). I love watching the little ones at P.E. They laugh, jump and run with their full beings. I can’t help smiling. Their joy is contagious. Now, it’s not only their carefree happiness that makes me smile but also their attire. They are naked! Dark little bodies in their white underwear zig-zag throughout the field. Who wouldn’t smile at this site?

I share a block of concrete bathing rooms with other teachers at the school. I get so excited and happy on the mornings or evenings I bathe at the same time as Rose. Rose loves to sing as she bucket bathes. This makes me laugh with happiness to which she always asks me what makes me laugh so happily. We then carry on a conversation as we both soap up and pour water over our naked bodies. This camaraderie gives me a sense of belonging and contentment.

Babies in Uganda are perpetually running around naked. I, for one, fully support this as it is too hot to wear clothes and their naked little butts are just so darn cute. Of course, this may also contribute to problems with worms and other health concerns so I probably shouldn’t encourage this too strongly.

I had a roommate in college who had a poster with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. It said something about God creating us to be naked vegetarians. I like this. There is beauty and joy in the naked. And I’ve found it’s cross-cultural!

Gayaza News

2011-02-22T20:40:00.004+03:00

My dear friends Betty, Fred and Louis have reappeared in my life. They used to be my neighbors but were transferred deep into the village last year. Louise has grown but still has the exact same face at the age of 2½ as he did at 1½ years. Fred also hasn’t changed though he is now in P6 and boarding here at St. Theresa. Betty feels the education is better for Fred here and he has more of a chance. Fred comes to visit regularly and has taken up his former role of jack fruit cutter. He climbs the trees behind my house and knocks on the jack fruit testing to find the ones that are ready for eating. He then cuts it up and passes sections out to my neighbors and me. I think we’re all happy to have him back!

In other news, 2 of my best friends at site have been transferred. Jen and Annet (and Grace) have left St. Theresa. This has been a difficult time for me. The past 2 years have been filled with conversations, errand running and routine life living with these 2 dear friends. They have shaped my love of Uganda and its people. They have taught me so much about living as a Ugandan, culture, relationships, school and being a woman. It was difficult to see them go. I always thought I would be the one to leave them but they have been the ones to leave me. I don’t like to be the one left behind.

When the day came for Jen to move out, her new school came with a truck to take all her belongings to her new one bedroom home. Most of the teachers from St. Theresa had stayed into the evening to help her finish packing and load up the truck. It was a beautiful site of friendship and support. They offered words of encouragement and advice as they lifted her bed and carried her suit cases. To Ugandan teachers, transfers are a way of life. They may be sad to see one another go but they don’t dwell on that. They look to the future and offer prayers and support to the one leaving. Though I have shed many tears over this change, I too offer my love and prayers to my friends who embark on a different life. I know they will open their homes to me whenever I visit. And, visit, I will very soon.

All Quiet on the East Africa Front

2011-02-21T07:53:00.003+03:00

We've made it through election day and even the result announcement with very little disturbance. Museveni was elected president once again. He won with 68%, a percentage no one knows to be absolute truth, but he won and there is peace at the moment.

There is a lot of talk about the future of the economy here in Uganda. The NRM (National Resistance Movement political party) and Museveni spent a lot of the countries money campaigning for office. How will that lack of money play out in everyday Ugandan life? Time will tell.

Elections are Upon Us

2011-02-16T03:24:00.003+03:00

This Friday Uganda will be holding their elections. The last months/years have been full of campaigning and, dare I say bribing? The current president has been in power for 25 years and intends to stay in power. Posters of his head are plastered over every market stall, temporary tin wall, power poll and even hanging on string from trees.

Museveni has done a lot for Uganda. He brought stability and peace after decades of war, set up free primary and then secondary education open to all and opened commerce and trade. There are many who are eternally thankful for the change he brought and don't see a need to change. There are others who have appreciated what Museveni has accomplished but believe it's time for a new perspective. And then there are those who have nothing good to say about the president.

I, for one, am ready for the election season to be over. I'm tired of the lorry trucks cruising around with their speaker systems hooked up yelling out voting messages, empty promises and many times propaganda. Many newspaper articles are slanted to support Museveni (no surprise really when he controls them). And everyone is speculating on the course of peace the elections will play out.

The president is not the only person being elected. Members of Parliament and local government are also up for election. I was recently visiting another area where a Local Chairman was talking to a group of villagers. At the end of his long speech he began handing out money. I saw one woman with a baby get 20,000 UGX which is about $10. She started screaming and dancing through the crowd. There are signs and commercials everywhere about not letting people buy your vote. I don't think those campaigning have taken this seriously. Does this happen in the States? Sure it does, but in a private setting. You would never see Obama at a rally passing out $50 bills - though if he did I would want to be at that rally. Corruption is everywhere but the visibility of it in Uganda is still a hard thing to face.

And so, we've entered the last few days of campaigning. The presidential hopefuls have brought themselves to Kampala to do their last big rallies. The electoral commission continues to promise free and fair elections. Ugandans await the public holiday they will receive so that they can go vote. And I hope and pray for peace.

My Family Visits Part VII: Jinja

2011-02-13T17:46:00.005+03:00

Our last activity together before my family went back to America was to visit Jinja where the Nile River starts. Melissa went a day before us and risked her life white-water rafting and bungee jumping over the Nile.

We met up with Melissa and took a boat out to the Source of the Nile River. We saw the place where the Nile comes out of Lake Victoria. Rwanda and Burundi also claim to hold the source of the Nile River but for us this day, we said Uganda holds the title. It was a beautiful day out on the water but bittersweet as we knew our time together was coming to an end.

I am very thankful my family had the opportunity to visit East Africa. It was a great trip exploring much of Uganda and Rwanda and living my life for a time. Next family vacation? We'll see what country I live in next.

The Nile River begins from Lake Victoria here
Measurement begins here
0 degrees

My Family Visits Part VI: Gayaza

2011-02-11T19:37:00.001+03:00

Most of the last week of my family’s visit was spent in Gayaza. They were able to meet my friends and co-workers and see a snapshot of my life. Melissa was able to work in the health center with me, Mom took tea with the teachers during break and Dad talked farming with my friends. Gayaza is too close to my heart to properly express what my family experienced so I’ll leave it to my mom to convey her thoughts:

“Philip and I stayed in a village next to Gayaza called Kasangati. The first morning we got our own matatu (van with more people than should ever be packed into a van) and met Amanda and Melissa at church. I got to meet my African granddaughter Grace. She is Amanda’s neighbors’ little girl. I have been talking to her on the phone most Sundays when we talk with Amanda. I think we both carry on our own conversation but don’t have any idea what the other one is saying but we have become friends anyway. She hugged us and knelt before us and giggled. As we walked to church, the first thing people saw was my cane. Amanda said finally they don’t stare at her for being white - they never get past my cane.

Our eating experiences have been most interesting throughout our time in Uganda and being in Gayaza didn’t change that. Besides the multitude of Shacks we have eaten at we have also been invited to many of Amanda’s friends’ homes. First the priests and nuns had us. Of course there was no electricity so we began supper without any idea what we were eating. We did know that somewhere on the table was matooke (smushed plantain steamed all day in banana leaves), posho (maize mixed with water, very thick), sweet potatoes, irish potatoes, plus pork and chicken. They very seldom serve meat here so we were very privileged in deed. Then we went to Annet and Grace’s where she made us cassava and the best passion fruit juice. Melissa became addicted to Passion fruit juice. Jen invited us to supper one evening but in true Ugandan fashion she had not begun to prepare so we had to go back to Kasangati before it was ready. Melissa and Amanda ate with her and said it was good. The next day we went to Susan’s, the girl Amanda works with at the health center. We went to her house and had the best Ugandan food. She made some noodles with sauce, eggs scrambled with things in them, cabbage salad and fruit. On another day, we were invited to Joan’s, a teacher for adult literacy where Amanda helps out. We took a matatu to the village center and then walked through all sorts of villages, plantations, jungle, up and down hills, over creeks, slide down clay banks….for over an hour until we came to her house. Throughout the walk little children were yelling “muzungu, muzungu” and waving like crazy. They followed us to the next little village and new ones took over. Finally we got there and visited with her and her 4 day old baby. So adorable!! She also has 3 other children. When we got there she began preparing the food. She prepared another very Ugandan meal and wrapped everything in banana leaves. Quite the presentation.

We love Uganda. The country is so diverse and beautiful. The people are the kindest and most welcoming we have met anywhere. So many people have thanked us for “producing” Amanda and letting her come be with them here. Her Uganda family is very large and while they have taken such good care of her, they say she has taken better care of them. They told me that no one could replace her and they are praying that she will be able to stay.”

I’m very glad my family was able to spend time in Gayaza. Everyone was thrilled to meet each other. My Ugandan friends were so welcoming and made me proud. My family was so willing to meet everyone and try anything given to them. Somehow, my mom has become a saint in Uganda and received many gifts and words of thanksgiving and praise. People would have been disappointed if they hadn’t met her. It was a great experience for everyone on all sides to come together. It made my heart swell with deep love and gratitude for the special people in my life.

My Family Visits Part V: Murchison Falls

2011-02-10T18:28:00.000+03:00

Since we’d spent time in the Central Region, done many activities in the South West and even hit up Rwanda, it seemed about time to get a bit further North and West. So, we headed to Murchison Falls, the largest National Park in Uganda. Murchison Falls itself is a narrow crevasse where the mighty Nile River must fit through. It is the biggest force of water in the world!

We went on a game drive and boat ride along the Nile to see all the animals. After seeing lion, Ugandan Cobb, buffalo, crocodile, hippo, giraffe, elephant, bird, antelope, spider monkeys, lizards and baboons, my mom still holds to liking the warthog the best. The park ranger who took us around pointed out the Ugandan Cobb which is the national animal to which he said, “. . .they are so lazy.” Is this telling of Uganda also? Perhaps to some degree. When it comes to women working this is a false statement but in many other regards it is very true.

It is the dry and hot season in most of Uganda now. This proved to be a trial while in Murchison as the temperature during the day sat above 100 degrees with full equatorial sun beaming down. For some wimpy Minnesotans who left the United States at 9 degrees this was especially draining. By mid-day they were ready for a nap and by evening they were the first to go back to the tents to sleep, usually around 7 or 8 pm. Of course, I was still full of energy and wanted to continue exploring. It sure is a struggle having visitors who don’t have the African sun running through their blood yet. Ha! Maybe this isn’t completely true. But don’t tell them I don’t either!

My Family Visits Part IV: Rwanda

2011-02-07T11:10:00.003+03:00

The African Massage continued as we made our way from Bwindi Impenetrable Forest further South to Rwanda. The Kisoro Uganda to Rwanda boarder is considered a remote border crossing. We bumped across rough dirt roads then walked across the border after only a brief glance at our passports was made. Crossing the border from Uganda to Rwanda is like changing from broad day-light to the blackest of midnights. The roads are paved, without pot-holes. There is a remarkable absence of garbage and the smell of burning garbage. Towns and roads are labeled with landscaping throughout. Everything seems much more organized and ordered.

We spent a few days in Gisenyi on Lake Kivu. It’s a small town on the boarder of DR Congo. It was a relaxed time where we played cards looking out over the lake, ate good food and took leisurely walks.

From Gisenyi we headed to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. Here met up with my friend Jacelyn from medevac for dinner. I have loved our friendship and the ease we have had visiting between Uganda and Rwanda. It’s always nice to see her.

We spent a morning at the Genocide Museum. This is a horrific place that should be viewed by everyone. My family was surprised at some of the information given. The media in America covered so little about it at the time and even to this day people know the basics and what they saw on Hotel Rwanda. The museum is really well done. While, “enjoyed” is too strong a word “appreciated” is how we felt about our visit there.

Rwanda was just a quick little trip for us and so after Kigali we went back to Kampala. The only options for travel between the 2 capital cities are by bus or airplane. Airplane tickets are expensive and I really thought my family should experience the African bus so bright and early we boarded Kampala Coach. Here is what my mom had to say about the bus:

“We took the Kigali/Kampala bus as 5:45am. They fed us tea and samosas (fried pies in a thin fried tortilla like thing) and chapatis (flat bread made with flour, oil and water). Little did I know that this could possibly be our last supper. Once on the bus it took off like it was jet propelled, honking the horn, passing where no motor cycle could get through, with the music on as loud as it possibly would go. A mere 8 hour trip turned into 11.5 hours. By the time we got off, my ears were ringing and my nerves were shot!!!!”

Sorry family! The bus was by far their least favorite part of our travels. But at least they understand that aspect of my life more intimately.

My Family Visits Part III: South West Uganda

2011-02-07T11:09:00.003+03:00

Lake Mburo was a wonderful first stop in our East African tour. Next, we moved deeper into the South West of Uganda. We passed through beautiful changing landscapes. Kabale is known as “little Switzerland” with its big hills and lush green vegetation. In Kabale we picked up a new driver named George. George was the best driver we had throughout our travels. He was very personable, respectful and informative. George took us by Lake Bunyonyi and told us the history of the Crater Lake and local legends. There is an island in the middle of the lake called Punishment Island. It was used for girls who became pregnant outside of wedlock. They would be abandoned there to die. Times quickly changed and once a girl was dropped off a man who couldn’t afford a dowry could go and rescue the girl and make her his wife. Neither tradition is in place anymore.

Kabale District made way into Kisoro District where we ventured off the main road and headed into the Impenetrable Forest. The roads declined drastically. It seemed like we were driving on pure rock face much of the time. Up and down winding roads we traversed. It took us 1 hour to go 10 kilometers! George told us driving on those roads was an, “African massage!” But the drive was worth it because the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. It isn’t called impenetrable without reason. This was the jungle/forest your mind conjures up when you think of Tarzan: dense, vibrant green, tall trees, vines, etc. The only things living in this forest are mountain gorillas. The gorillas were actually our reason for going here. We went to track them!

There is only one small area in the whole world that holds the last remaining mountain gorillas. This small area is the corner of Uganda, Rwanda and DR Congo. With this unique fact, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet our hairy brothers and sisters.

We began our trek early in the morning walking down steep hills on small footpaths. This only lasted for a small while and then we entered into the impenetrable forest. Again, it is named impenetrable for a reason. Our guides used machetes and hacked away at vines, leaves, trees, etc. as we stumbled over forest growth and ducked beneath tangled branches and large spider webs. (I’m not sure how this factors into the ecologically sustainable factor their brochures assure us is their highest priority.) As we made our way into the forest we could hear the gorillas moving around and grunting at one another. Our excitement spiked and Melissa and I could barely contain the smiles on our faces, though we needed to with all the bugs flying at us and the extreme humidity chocking our throats.

These mountain gorillas are beyond describable. It was truly a unique experience and incomprehensible unless you have seen them yourself. They are HUGE! We were surrounded by them and within reaching distance at most times. Their fur looked so soft and there were moments I was tempted to reach out and feel it. Don’t worry, I refrained and kept my life. The family we trekked held 3 silverbacks, 3 babies and 12 women. What surprised me the most was how much they moved. I thought we’d see them and they’d be relaxing, just laying around for us to take those post-card perfect pictures. This was not the case. They were continually moving deeper (and further down the mountain) around the forest constantly eating any vegetation they put their mighty hands on.

After an hour it was time to leave our new friends and head back. Mountain gorillas are wild animals and they are only allowed a small exposure to humans due to the ease of diseases that could be spread which leads to sick gorillas and extinction could be much closer than desired. An hour doesn’t seem like a long time when you sign up but once you are there an hour is the perfect time. Now, that we’d navigated further down in the impenetrable forest, we had to climb out, a much harder task and quite daunting at times. But we made it and it was worth all the leg pain, the lung heaving and the gallons of sweat we excreted from our bodies.

My Family Visits Part II: Lake Mburo

2011-02-01T09:04:00.009+03:00

Continuing into the Southern Hemisphere, we went to Lake Mburo National Park. Lake Mburo is the smallest park in Uganda but it’s truly a gem. It is the only park that holds a whole host of animals and birds that can only be found in one other park in the country or no other park at all! As we drove in we immediately saw herds of zebra, antelope and warthogs. My family turned and looked at me saying, “Now, we feel like we’re in Africa!”

We drove around the park taking pictures of the many animals. We also got to take a boat out on Lake Mburo. Our eyes couldn’t even take in all the wildlife that was present here. We saw HUGE crocodiles, several schools of hippos, buffalo and rare birds. I would never call my family the bird watching type of family, but this trip awakened an appreciation for birds in all of us. It was just so thrilling to be looking at a beautifully colored bird and be told it is a bird that is only located in this one small park out of the whole world! How cool is that?!

My dad, Melissa and I got to take a walk through the park early in the morning with a park ranger. We followed the animals as they woke up and started grazing and going to the water to drink. I couldn’t believe how close we got to the zebras and Elans (a rare antelope/deer like animal). I continue to be amazed, impressed and thankful for the experiences I have here in Uganda.

Me with Warthog skull

Buffalo asleep with hippos near by in the water

HUGE Crocodile sunning himself

Melissa and I with our "arms"

Park Ranger, Melissa, Dad and I out on an early morning walk through the park

Melissa with a field of Elan, antelope and bush buck behind her

Melissa and Dad bird watching

Dad with morning animals grazing behind him

Cape Buffalo

Bush buck

Melissa and zebras

Here is what my mom has to say about Lake Mburo: “WOW what an amazing place. As we entered the park, Melissa and I went nuts over the cattle with these huge horns. The driver looked at us as if we were a wee bit daft but stopped for us to take pictures. We were so excited! Can you imagine our reaction when we saw our first Zebra? Within the first 5 minutes we had seen just about every animal the national park had! It was as if the rangers had railroad cars full of the different animals and opened the doors as we went by and told the animals to put on a good show for the muzungus. It was unbelievable!!! Zebras, elans, warthogs (my favorite), gazelles, bush bucks, cape buffalo, impalas…. I will have to looks at my pictures to remember them all. Next we took a boat out on the lake and saw hippos, crocodiles, cape buffalo, shoe bill birds (supposed to be almost extinct) fish eagles that looked like our bald eagles, and lots of other birds. Philip and the girls meet an armed ranger at 5:30 am and walked the park and saw even more animals as the sun rose. It was all so amazing.”

My Family Visits Part I: Welcome to Uganda!

2011-02-01T08:48:00.005+03:00

The New Year has brought my family to Uganda! Mom, Dad and Melissa came in mid-January for 3 weeks of travel and Ugandan life. It’s been a whirl-wind trip moving around East Africa and spending time at my site in Gayaza.

My good friend Celeste also had a happy visit from her mom and brother. We had the opportunity to introduce our families to the joys of local food together. Restaurants in Uganda are not always marked. You must look for certain clues. On our walk in search of food that day I saw a lace curtain flowing in the wind from a door at the back of a house. I also saw a hand washing station directly outside that curtain. We decided to investigate and discovered it was a restaurant. Originally, we all ordered fish. The first three people got beautiful chunks of fish. Then Melissa was next and got the head. I followed with the tail. Then the lady told mom, “This fish is over.” Poor mom had to change her order and ended up with a plate full of rice and a small chicken leg.

After our local food experience, I decided to ease my family into Ugandan food a little easier so I took them to the best pizza place in East Africa. It’s a cute little brick-firing place on the shore of Lake Victoria. My family has claimed it may be the best pizza they have ever tasted in their lives!

Soon we left the safety and calm of Entebbe to the craziness of Kampala. We walked and rode matatu’s (public taxi’s) all around the city. They got to see the mass organized chaos of the taxi park area and markets. They continue to be amazed at how many people are all around at all times. The dense population was not something they were expecting.

Amidst the business of Kampala is a little restaurant on Lake Victoria. They serve whole fish and chips. They don’t have silverware so the fish must be taken apart by hand. Everyone loved this experience. We’re not sure if it’s the best fish we’ve ever eaten because we ate it fresh from the lake we were looking at or because it truly is. Maybe a little of both.

After a few days in and around Kampala adjusting to the time difference and getting used to Uganda a little, it was time to start exploring the rest of the country. We rented a car to take us into the Southern Hemisphere were we spent the following week a and half traversing the South West of Uganda and parts of Rwanda. As Uganda is one of about 10 countries where the equator passes through, we had to stop and take a picture.

The Future Looms

2011-01-26T08:07:00.003+03:00

A few weeks ago I attended my Close Of Service (COS) conference. It was the last time my group would all be together in Uganda. Over the next several months we will begin packing up and leaving our communities. The conference was actually very difficult. I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster. We processed our last 2 years, talked about reverse culture shock, what America is like and going to be, how to get jobs, and how to keep Peace Corps alive in us as we move on with our lives. While it was all necessary, it was also very hard and scary. Who were we in America? Who are we now? How are we going to mesh those when we get back?

I still have no direction as to what to do next. I am considering extending my service for a third year but moving locations and jobs. I am also looking for jobs in Africa. I thought about grad school but am I ready for that after learning to be content staring at my cement wall over the last two years? And of course, there is always the moving back to America option. That is the scariest and least favorable option to me right now. But, who knows. I have a few more months to figure it all out. We shall see...

Rwanda: Great Medevac Friends

2011-01-12T18:47:00.004+03:00

Since we were so close to the boarder with Rwanda when we were at Lake Bunyonyi and Hailey and I had a good medevac friend there, we decided to cross over and visit Kigali. This was our smoothest travel day in all our days of travel. Rwanda is a beautiful clean country and easy to navigate. We met up with our friend Jacelyn in Kigali. Hailey and Jacelyn were able to go to a Radio and Weasel concert (Hailey’s new favorite East African group) one night and the rest of the time we simply hung out and caught up together. I continue to be impressed with the bonds that were made while on medevac. I am very thankful for these girls who supported me and I them, through our tumultuous days of poor health.

We only spent 1 full day in Rwanda and then it was back to Uganda. I took Hailey through our infamous second hand market, Owino, and we had a lovely sushi dinner before she flew back to Niger in West Africa. My Christmas/New Years break this year was a very special time seeing much of East Africa with a dear friend. The friendships and experiences I have gained while in Peace Corps are truly unique and they will shape my life for evermore.