Random updates and pictures

Pat and the neighbor boys

Emma, one of the kids that lives behind our house

So there have been a lot going on the past couple of weeks. My professor, his daughter, and the doctor all arrived to Mbale so now there are eight of us in our little African house. First on the agenda was to hold the big general meeting for MUWA (Mbale United Woman's Assocition), the SACCO we have been working with. Overall I think it was successful and was a nice introduction between MAPLE and MUWA. As usual we were on African time and started about and hour and half late, but I was so grateful that these women sacrificed the time away from there work and family to attend this meeting because I know that is hard.





I also toured a couple of hospitals last week. We befriended a few medical students who are interning at the local referral hospital here. They were nice enough to give us a tour of the facilities. It's quite the experience. There's no privacy for the patients. The first ward we walked through had rows upon rows of beds and the only type of privacy was that it was separated into males and females. To an American I it looked pretty full, but I was promptly told that this was a slow day, and that usually there are so many patients that they run out of beds and have to put the overflow patients on the floor on bamboo mats. But this was not the most disturbing piece of information I received. There is a lack of medical gloves, and because of that the hospital cannot give them out for free, so patients are supposed to upon arrival stop at a drugstore on the way to the hospital and buy a pair of gloves for the doctors to use. This just baffles my mind. How is one suppose to preform safe medical tasks without gloves! I would love to collect boxes of medical gloves and send them over to clinics and hospitals here because it such a basic necessity and easy for us Americans to do. So we proceeded through the different wards and our last stop was the maternity ward. Around the entrance of the ward there were women just sitting/walking around, all camped out on their bamboo mat. I whipered to Daniel, the medical intern, "are these women patients?", and he replied "yes, they're all in labor, we don't move them in untill they're ready to push." And again I was baffled. He also proceeded to tell me that they don't have any monitors and do not give epidurals because they monitor the progress of the baby by the amount of pain the woman is in. I was shocked not be hearing any yelps of pain, for I was surrounded by women in labor- these African women are tough! After the delivery ward we went to visit the nursery. Erase the image of babies lined up next to each other, the nursery is a room with the new moms and babies lying together in the same bed, with usually a sister, aunt, grandmother and sometimes husband by her side. I don't think I have ever seen such newborn babies. I had the honor of holding one of the babies, and I definitely had never held such a newborn baby, it was an amazing feeling.

The other hospital I visited was night and day from the referral hospital. It's and American run clinic that specializes in neuroscience, specifically hydrosephilis. It was one of the nicest looking places I've seen here. I might as well have been in America.



Lastly, Luke, Pat and I all escaped down to Kampala for a couple of days. On the bus down the three of us all sat next to each other with our ipods in hand and headphones on. I simply chuckled to myself thinking "here it is, little america!" It was nice to get away from Mbale and have things like fro-yo and chocalate and cappuccino....mmmm! Oh and how could I forget to mention mexican food...yes please!! Kampala's nice, however there TOO much traffic!!! and the boda boda drivers are more stubborn than the Mbale drivers. My barGAINing skills were put to shame in Kampala.

Karamoja from Texas

Me and JB buying the chickens

The Karamoja are a group of people in northern Uganda that are cattle hustlers. They believe that all cows belong to them, so they go around stealing cows and do not fear using force. And thus, me being from Texas, and my housemates having only their stereotypical views of Texans I am now the Karamoja from Texas. Being the tough Karamoja/Texan I slaughtered our dinner for the night. . .Ok ok I didn't slaughter it but I plucked and gutted which in my book is good enough. JB our local friends walked me through the whole process, and I must say there something quite satisfying about killing and working for your own dinner.

We went to the market and picked out our two chickens. Did some barGAINing as usual, and paid 9,000 shillings for each chicken (about $4.50USD). Then we proceeded to carry these live chickens back on boda bodas.

As with all our live sacrifices we always name them before we slaughter. These two lovely ladies were Odongo Venus and Akello Serena. They definitely were fighters- I could say more but for those with weak stomachs I will refrain.


After rubbing on some spice and roasting them up, I had the honor of eating the gizzard. It was actually quite delicious, a little rubbery but tasty- needless to say I would eat it again and definitely slaughter another chicken. Next on my list is the damn rooster that continues to wake us up every morning.

random pic: Me and Aga. . .he's a lil trouble maker

Just what the doctor ordered

It was so nice to have a change in scenery and escape Mbale and the MAPLE House and head out to the village (which village you might ask? well to answer this African style, "a village", people love answering questions here by simply rephrasing what was asked). Every moment and outing is always an adventure here. One simply never knows what's going to happen. So our adventure began by buying water for the day, and since we were going to the village we opt for the larger bottles only to find out that the larger bottles are have simply been filled with boiled water and we find ourselves chuckling over this. . ."of course they would be selling boiled water in a store here, for it would be to logical to simply sell imported bottled water!" Then we head for the taxi park to what? . . .bargain! (that's another African mannerism, throwing in questions words in your sentences only to answer them before the other person has a chance). Anyways, the taxi park is a hustling and bustling place. Taxi drivers yell out to you as you're walking through to see where you are going and if it's not the place they're driving to then they try to convince you to change your destination and go with them. And then once you've made the deal and bargained down from the mzungu tax, you climb into this taxi van that probably seats 9 comfortably but will soon be filled with no less than 15 and probably more like 20 people. And while you wait and wait and wait, slowly getting squished and squished and squished, vendors come tapping on the taxi windows trying to make one last sell before you depart. Anyone up for a sweet banana to go, or a briefcase, candy, chipati, maybe some bed sheets? And just when I thought we were finally about to depart, one last salesman comes up, this time actually inside the taxi, and with this booming voice begins giving this speech. And of course it's not in english so I have no idea what's going on what he's selling or if he's even selling something at all but everyone's attention is drawn to him so I know it's something important- medicine. And what is this new exciting medicine that has caught everyone's attention? Well I soon get a whiff of it as the sample goes by and I am instantly reminded of Vick's Vapor Rub. So after about half the taxi buys this product we finally began our hour and half ride to the village.

Florence's oasis

We arrive in the village and it seems to be one of the more desolate areas of Uganda, and meet one of mama Veronica's friends, Florence. Florence's house is anything but desolate. It is an oasis amongst this village. Her house is surrounded by beautiful flowering trees and has a wonderful garden and veranda to sit on to enjoy it all. She is quite the entrepreneur. She cultivates g-nuts (very similar to peanuts, and quite delicious), raises chickens, has a bread oven and teaches local women how to cook bread to become entrepreneurs themselves, and then is planning to plant orange trees. She and Veronica are probably the two most professional and educated women I've met here but yet have no formal education- amazing.me and mama Veronica

After sitting on the veranda and enjoying some delicious g-nuts, we head into town and enjoy some local beans and rice and take the five minute tour of the village (the three of us girls had a new found appreciation for living in Mbale, because there is nothing in the village). As we struggle to push through our local food food-coma we soon encounter a group of local kids- this is when the day gets fun. We get the usual greeting, "Mzungu! mzungu! How are you?!?!", but these kids aren't satisfied with, "I'm good how are you?". They want more, so they follow. So the three of us do the typical white person in Africa thing, we whip out our cameras and begin taking pictures with these kids- they LOVE it! It is so fun to watch these children pose for the camera and then hurry up to you to see how it turned out- they can't get enough of it. There giggles are music to my ears, and their smiles are the biggest smiles I've seen. So after about 45 minutes of playing with the cameras we scramble for new entertaining ideas- the sunglasses. These couple hours we end up spending with these kids involve many cultural exchanges, and we must remember they do not speak english so that of course makes things more interesting. The three of us teach them london bridges falling down, ABCs, twinkle twinkle little star and any other typical American children's song or game. But the best was when the kids sang one of there own local songs and clapped and danced to the rhythm.



All in all, the day was actually unsuccessful for out purpose of going to buy millet, why? . . . because of course we were a day too early. But these two hours spent with these kids needless to say greatly made up for it.

our oasis in Mbale: Mt. Elgon Resort

Obama Daughters

Obama mania is strong here. Walking down the street you'll find Obama calendars, watches, shops named after him. My favorite calendar is one that says: "Black blood takes over"- we're hoping to get that for the MAPLE house. People love Obama here. The other day while I was at our friend's JB's house the TV was on Al Jazeera news covering the G8 conference in the background, and when Obama came on the entire room turned their focus on him. It was such a neat feeling to be in this African household where the love for the American president was so strong. In this same household, the first time Jaime, Shawna, and I met Veronica's husband he welcomed us as Obama daughters- and continues to do this every time we come to visit.

African Time and Mzungu Tax

My patience and bargaining skills are going to be superb by the time I return home. Today Shawna, Jaime and I had our first real business meeting scheduled for 10:00am and as we were walking out the door at 10:05am we were worrying about being late, but Patrick and Luke reassured us and said that the locals will tease us if we are on time. A 10:00am meeting really means 10:30 or 11:00, so I am slowly learning the pace here.

I've also learned that anytime there is an exchange of money, whether it be a ride on a boda boda or buying something in the market a what i like to call "mzungu tax" is placed on the item. SO there is much bargaining to be done, or if you want to make things slightly easier just bring a local with you! But the bargaining is actually kinda fun because it always ends in laughter.

Here are some pictures of our house:
my room looks messy. . .

Hey Mzungu!

This weekend we celebrated Luke's birthday and 4th of July up in the mountains. We went all out. There was an elaborate act taken to order a cake from Kampala and drive it all the way up to the mountains- which took a total of 3 days, 5 hours of it driving, and one night spent accidentally in a deep freezer, but in the end it was by far the best birthday cake one could ever wish for. We also had an amazing feast which included roasting a goat (we named him tin can tony), cooking matoke, cabbage, and potatoes (or as they call it here, irish). And let me tell you, Jaime, Shawna and I were so proud of ourselves, these potatoes were so delicious, tasted just like mashed potatoes from home! All of this was done cooking outside looking out onto the most beautiful view of the valley.

Our weekend in the mountains also included some day hikes to the Sipi Falls, and lets just say there was quite a bit of huffing and puffing going on since being at about 5,000ft. Meanwhile the native guides would practically be running up the side of the mountain. But as we were waiting around to start our hike our guide randomly says, "So you know that we do female and male circumcision here"- that took all of us by surprise. We soon found out that this is a common thing for the locals to talk about. Later that night Juma, our guide went on to tell us of the details of the ceramony/celebration and how he's having his done next december and would love it if we would attend his ceramony. After talking to two guys about this tradition, I would love to hear a female's perspective.


After my weekend in the mountains I have come to learn that their are two types of children here: those that are shy and don't want to talk to you, and those that give you the warmest greeting and come running down the road yelling "hellooo mazoongoo!! hello hello! How are you!!" Sometimes they will come up to you saying nothing but will stick out their hand hoping to meet you, and then go running off. For meeting you, a mazoongoo, will make their day.

Would you like your water with gas or no gas?

Well I'm finally in Mbale! But to backtrack a little I've been in Amsterdam the past few days having a blast. Jaime and I stayed in the hostel Dirty Nellys, which is right in Dam Square, a great location. We packed a lot into just a few short days: Anne Frank, Van Gogh, Heineken, canal tour, etc. Speaking of the canal tour, if anyone is planning a trip to Amsterdam you must check out this canal tour that we did. It was alot smaller than the regular ones, you could bring your own food, wine, beer, etc. and it's all run by donations which go to restoring old boats.


Everyone was so friendly, and can I just say the Austrailians are everywhere! All my friends who have traveled always talk about meeting Australians and I had the same experience in Amsterdam. It was fun meeting people from all over the world. Jaime and I befriended the group of Columbians and went out with them a couple of nights- they're halarious! and they taught us how to salsa, got to love the latin men.


While Amsterdam was great, I definitly had momemnts where I felt like a dumb american. The toiletts are differnt, the water has bubbles (gas) in it, and they speak Dutch. But that's what makes the travels fun and always an adventure.