So much has happened that I do not think I have the energy to go over all of it. We woke up early. REALLY early. Thanks jet lag. We were going to take our first day easy. You know, spend some time unpacking and getting aquainted with our surroundings. Instead we decided to go straight to the children's center and check out the site that is to be the fruit of all our efforts.
Anthony Onyango (the orphanage director) and James (the Austrailian volunteer) arrived with four boda-bodas, which are dinky motobike taxis from hell. They are one of the major forms of transportation around here. I find that the experience of riding on the back of one these must be similar to skydiving with your own handmade parachute. Meaning: there is a large chance of death. The boda drivers are speed demons down rocky roads. I prayed that I wouldn't die on my very first day.
While getting closer to god on these bodas, I also managed to finally take in my surroundings. When we first arrived we came in at night, so my imagination filled in what I could not see of Entebbe and Kampala. My first glimpse of Uganda and my words here will not do my images justice: Chaos. Shacks. Packed Streets. Hills. Goats, bulls, chickens running amuck. Children. So many children. Little girl kicking kitten. Little naked baby crawling across the street with no guardian in sight. Hanging carcasses. And tons of eyes. All eyes staring at three white people on bodas driving by. "Mzungu, Mzungu," white girl white girl, they would shout.
We arrived to the Kijjansi Chidren's center and I was astonished. It is comprised of three brick dormitories that will eventually sleep thirty-two children a piece. That is, when they finally have doors and flooring and running water...yeah, it's basically a brick fortress right now. There is one school room/church and office. Anthony's office consists of an open room and stack of a few folders that sit in a dusty corner. This orphanage is far from complete. It is more like a foster care placement program as of now.
I don't see how they keep up with all these kids. I sat on the field next to the school room and children seemed to appear and dissappear with each breath. And the kids were fascinated with us. I answered questions of the ones that spoke reasonably good english. The little little ones wanted to hold my hand and glued themselves to my legs. The 8-10 year olds wanted to touch and braid my hair. The older children wanted to re-braid my hair properly.
The stares continued when we finally left. I was starting to wonder where all the white people were. I know they are here somewhere. I saw a bunch of them on the plane and in the airport. Where were they all hiding?
Answer: The mall. We went to lunch at a rather large and impressively developed mall. When you go to the foodcourt, I learned that the food comes to you. Here, you sit down and are bombarded by people and menus. I buckled under the pressure of one aggressive guy and ordered humus. The end.
Finally, because I have to end this soon, we planned out what all four of us will be doing over the next couple of weeks. Here it goes:
1) Trip to Mango (another orphanage located in city of Kampala)
2) Trip to Jinja (Southeast Uganda. Source of the nile. Check out several orphanages there)
3) Trip to Gulu (Northern Uganda. War torn area. Please don't panic mom)
4) Trip to Tororro district (I thought Kampala was rural. Tororro is what the Ugandans consider rural. Oh, boy.)
These trips will help us gather information on how everyone else is running their programs. Hopefully, we can learn a lot because we are starting from scratch with OCA. I am overwhelmed.
Anthony Onyango (the orphanage director) and James (the Austrailian volunteer) arrived with four boda-bodas, which are dinky motobike taxis from hell. They are one of the major forms of transportation around here. I find that the experience of riding on the back of one these must be similar to skydiving with your own handmade parachute. Meaning: there is a large chance of death. The boda drivers are speed demons down rocky roads. I prayed that I wouldn't die on my very first day.
While getting closer to god on these bodas, I also managed to finally take in my surroundings. When we first arrived we came in at night, so my imagination filled in what I could not see of Entebbe and Kampala. My first glimpse of Uganda and my words here will not do my images justice: Chaos. Shacks. Packed Streets. Hills. Goats, bulls, chickens running amuck. Children. So many children. Little girl kicking kitten. Little naked baby crawling across the street with no guardian in sight. Hanging carcasses. And tons of eyes. All eyes staring at three white people on bodas driving by. "Mzungu, Mzungu," white girl white girl, they would shout.
We arrived to the Kijjansi Chidren's center and I was astonished. It is comprised of three brick dormitories that will eventually sleep thirty-two children a piece. That is, when they finally have doors and flooring and running water...yeah, it's basically a brick fortress right now. There is one school room/church and office. Anthony's office consists of an open room and stack of a few folders that sit in a dusty corner. This orphanage is far from complete. It is more like a foster care placement program as of now.
I don't see how they keep up with all these kids. I sat on the field next to the school room and children seemed to appear and dissappear with each breath. And the kids were fascinated with us. I answered questions of the ones that spoke reasonably good english. The little little ones wanted to hold my hand and glued themselves to my legs. The 8-10 year olds wanted to touch and braid my hair. The older children wanted to re-braid my hair properly.
The stares continued when we finally left. I was starting to wonder where all the white people were. I know they are here somewhere. I saw a bunch of them on the plane and in the airport. Where were they all hiding?
Answer: The mall. We went to lunch at a rather large and impressively developed mall. When you go to the foodcourt, I learned that the food comes to you. Here, you sit down and are bombarded by people and menus. I buckled under the pressure of one aggressive guy and ordered humus. The end.
Finally, because I have to end this soon, we planned out what all four of us will be doing over the next couple of weeks. Here it goes:
1) Trip to Mango (another orphanage located in city of Kampala)
2) Trip to Jinja (Southeast Uganda. Source of the nile. Check out several orphanages there)
3) Trip to Gulu (Northern Uganda. War torn area. Please don't panic mom)
4) Trip to Tororro district (I thought Kampala was rural. Tororro is what the Ugandans consider rural. Oh, boy.)
These trips will help us gather information on how everyone else is running their programs. Hopefully, we can learn a lot because we are starting from scratch with OCA. I am overwhelmed.
1 comment:
this will quickly become an addicting read, i hope you keep to a regular schedule!
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