Iganga Girl

I'm HOME!!!

2006-02-14T08:57:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering whether life is better in Uganda than it is here...it's not. We have washing machines! And dish washers, and grocery stores that actually carry what you're looking for. 'Course...I'm currently unemployed and merrily putting my house together and trying out new recipes from all those SWAS (amalgam of "sweet ass." Ask Brent.) cookbooks y'all gave Gabi and me before I left. (Erika, the Chez Panisse book is amazing! Weebale inho!) So maybe after I re-enter the true daily grind of western life, I'll find dust-laden, white-people-gawking rural Africa more appealing. And when all's said and done, they have hippos!!

I'm not going to delete this site until I've posted all my pictures on Kodak for at least two weeks, to make sure everyone can see them. As I wrote, I idiotically deleted my Murchison Falls pictures, so those won't come until until one of my travel mates sends me their copies. I hope they remember. Otherwise, it looked about like this: http://www.galenfrysinger.com/murchison_fall_national_park.htm.

As I'm typing, Joe is sticking his snout on the keyboard in an aggressive bid for attention. For those of you who haven't seen him, he looks about like this:

He's cute, small, stocky, friendly, and in everyone's face. Very much Gabi's dog.

I'm trying to decide if I should start a daily life blog at home, too. What do y'all think? I might even one day learn to use a camera! I could introduce you all to beautiful, quaint, industrial, earthy Atlanta - such a great town.

Thanks for traveling with me. Pictures will be up either this week or next. Take care, all.

Kirstin

Homeward Bound

2006-02-08T02:57:00.000-08:00

I'm leaving Uganda in 6 hours, Africa in 10. This has been one crazy trip! Once home (and with access to high speed internet), I have pictures to post and stories to tell. One story is about the time, when, in the middle of my trip to Murchison Falls, I realized that my camera memory card had filled up. Gabi had showed a me a way to erase one picture at a time directly from the camera (or so I thought), so I tried to select a picture and erase it. And there went the contents of the memory card. I just sat there on the boat, simmering at myself and fate.

But you'll all be relieved to know that the Jungle Cruise ride is accurate - the hippos really do wiggle their ears exactly just so. Elephants fan out their ears, and crocodiles sit with their mouths wide open. But Murchison Falls was the most spectacular waterfall I've ever seen, after Niagara. Basically, the whole of the Nile is pushed through two 6 meter openings. It's huge, billowing, and binary.

Thanks for keeping up with my adventures. Pictures will be up soon! (whatever I can scrounge up.)

Much love, Kirstin

Uganda Signage

2006-02-02T08:56:00.000-08:00

Beware of the Falling Debrises!!
Anti-natal Care Clinic
Small produce stand selling "ova," and
"Do you have any function? (Best Big Brass Band is ready to serve you!)"

I am now free and clear of project work - meaning that Brent is swamped. We got through our hygiene promoter training more or less unscathed. We were working from dawn till 1am for about six days, but we did it!! The community members were supposed to obtain local materials for building latrines, plate stands, etc. They assured us many times that they had these materials. The afternoon of the second day rolled around and 'lo and behold...they had been lying through their teeth. Or perhaps not: the conversations would go something like this, "Us: Are the poles there? Them: Yes, they are there. In the garden. Me: "What...growing?!!!" Yes, dear friends, every single local material was gathered on the spot, except for the long nails that Brent and I purchased. The Life Lesson is, when it comes to other people providing you things of importance, if you can't see it, it's not there. In general, training was busy, rushed, hurried...not the right way to help people learn how to teach other people. This means that Brent is going have a lot of catch-up work to do at the promoter meetings. This is in addition to the nearly 80 surveys that remain to be entered, setting up a WaterGuard distribution system, making sure the hygiene committees and promoters know how to monitor, and all the other crazy stuff that kid gets up to. I'm a bit worried for him - it seems like it's too much for one person, and I feel guilty leaving mid-project. Having said that, we accomplished two baseline surveys, created a dedicated core of hygiene promoters, conducted training, and have created promotional and monitoring materials. All with severe power outtages, partners who don't show up to meetings, and a staff of two. We haven't done too badly.

As for me, I'm heading up to Murchison Falls and the elephants tomorrow morning! I'm so excited I could spit. Okay, well maybe not that excited. Part of me even wonders if I shouldn't have gone home a week early...now that I've left work, I don't know what to do with myself. But it feels right to see a bit more of the country and I'm looking forward to being a tourist. Also, I hosted a dinner party last night at our guesthouse. I wasn't sure if anyone would actually show up, but they did! The guest list included: the water engineer we work with, our copy lady, our translator/interviewer trainer/friend, the boyfriend of an ex-volunteer, a doctor UVP has worked with in the past, and our current partners at JIDDECO. The boyfriend is the owner of a posh local guesthouse, and I asked him to bring some music, thinking he'd take a couple of cd's I could play on my laptop. He brought a whole soundsystem and a DJ!! It was a weeknight and we ate too late to get a lot of dancing in, but I was so impressed. (Andrew, you rock!) It was a rather dull party, but a wonder expereience for me to be able to say goodbye to all the people who had kept me sane over the last few months. They probably didn't even know they were doing it, but each of them treated me like a real, normal person, and I loved them for it.

Equally heartwarming, the women who work at my guesthouse cooked all the food (I paid them, but still...they handled everything, even when I did my best to insist to help. I think they were afraid I'd hurt myself.). And I purchased two chickens for slaughter. I told them that I agreed that I should probably serve my guests chicken (meat is very big here), but that there was no way I would be able to buy live chickens. The boy who works at the guesthouse, Alpa, actually accompanied me to the market and did all my grocery shopping with me. You should have seen him, dead-serious, lifting these chickens by the legs in each hand to weigh them. Apparently he's the one who later slaughtered them; I didn't watch. And then today, the two Mombasan girls who befriended me gave me a beautiful wrap-around/shawl thing that (allegedly) says something like, "I'll never forget you, our friendship means too much," in Swahili. I was almost crying. This place would be quite livable if: a) it weren't so damn hot all the time; b) I spoke the local language; and c) Gabi were here. Despite all the annoyances, people are generally very kind and I'm grateful.

So I'm leaving a week from yesterday, arriving a week from today. I'm looking forward to going home, though it's hard to leave the people that I've come to care about. I hope the world continues to shrink smaller and smaller.

Thanks for reading, and Uganda's great! Visit if you get a chance.

Kirstin

Luke, ndi baabawo!

2006-01-18T03:51:00.000-08:00

(see bottom for translation)

Ah, I'm coming along so well with Lusoga. Yesiree. The workers at our guesthouse now frequently speak to me in Lusoga, to which I invariably respond with "kale," meaning "fine," "thank you," or "you're welcome," depending on the context.

The hygiene promoter training was postponed, which means both that Brent and I have more time to get everything together and that I'm not going to Zanzibar. Instead, I'm going on a ">Red Chilli trip up to Murchison Falls, where the Nile river is pushed through a 6 meter gap of rock. The trip includes a game drive (elephants, antelope, giraffe), a cruise up the Nile (hippopotamuses, crocodiles, storks), and a chimpanzee trek through a rain forest. All in about two days, excluding travel time. It's under $200, 3-days long, and with a company I know and trust, so I'm sure it'll be a good time. Of course, my rechargeable batteries for the camera aren't working.

And now I have a shameless plea for y'all. Brent and I are missing a few key hygiene promotion flashcards, e.g.: cup, ladle, flies, kid crawling on ground, person sick with stomachache, handwashing sequence, etc. Does anyone want to do some pro bono art work? We're having a devil of a time tracking down local artists for some reason, and since training is starting the Monday after this coming (Jan. 30), I'm beginning to panic. The pictures would need to be scanned and emailed to us, but while we can cover all costs, we can't pay much more than that. But let me know if you're feeling charitable or need community service hours.

Take care!
K.

Translation (though honestly, who doesn't know what comes after, "Luke..."?):

Ndi = I am baaba = father wo = your

4 more weeks! 4 more weeks!

2006-01-14T04:48:00.000-08:00

You know, if you think that I just sit in front of a computer and type on this blog, with no premeditation whatsoever...well, you'd be right. What can I say? Spontaneity lends flava.

So what's new with me...

Brent and I found a new restaurant, Oman's. He is a mixed-race muslim, and is the only person in town to serve traditional Ugandan food with Asian spices. At African prices!! This means that the rice is fried with cloves, the beans are spiced, and the food in generally cheap and wonderful. You have to understand that here, people eat lots of carbohydrates with no spices and very little meat, beans, or vegetables. Oh, and 5 people now have told me that I've gotten "big," which is exactly what I like to hear 3 months before my wedding. Our partner in the community, Banuli, cheerfully informed that if I keep this up, I'll be leaving Uganda as "a giant." har har har. He and Brent had a good guffaw over that one.

Brent and I are scrambling to create the curriculum and materials for the hygiene promoter training. It's challenging because we're trying to: a) train people about how diarrheal pathogens are spread; b) train them to become health promoters; c) train them to monitor their work; d) train them to lead 10-hh groups in construction and create work plans; and e) train them to build: latrines, tippy-taps, plate drying racks, rubbish pits, and bath shelters. A latrine takes 6 hours to build (if the pit is already dug), while a drying rack takes 4 and a rubbish pit takes 2. All over a 4-day period. I have no idea how we're going to fit it all in, but it should be fun watching the trainers laugh when we present our curriculum. Furthermore, this training was supposed to take place the week after this coming, Jan. 23-27. However, the trainers may not be available so soon, and the training may need to take place the following week, Jan. 30-Feb.2. Which means I may not be able to go to Zanzibar. Okay, I realize that children chronically getting sick with diarrhea because a family has no safe place to poop is on a different order of priority than laying out on white beaches that abut aquamarine water - I really do. But take a look at these pictures!! http://zanzibar.net Brent tempted me by saying that if I get the curriculum together, and the hygiene promoter packet, and the evaluation materials, then it isn't absolutely necessary for me to attend training. But I'd be so disappointed to miss it; this is when we'll finally get to see all the lightbulbs go on. I'm conflicted, though I probably shouldn't be. I dunno, friends, what would you do?

So I have either one more week of work (plus training) or two more weeks of work (plus training) left. I'm beginning to prepare myself to leave. My suitcase ripped so I bought a small duffel bag in Kampala. I bought rechargeable batteries for my camera, so that should work now. I'm thinking about where to leave my books and any extra clothing. I'm all of a sudden making an effort to hang out with some of the wonderful people that I've met here: Robert, the District surveillance worker; Tehzeb the Mombasan girl; Andrew the owner of EastView guesthouse; and all the workers at my own guesthouse. (These women are a riot, btw. On New Year's, one of the, Namatov, got wasted and went around town screaming aggressively at people, "Haappy New Yiah!!" Brent and I were laughing our pants off. And then we went dancing in the local club, which, surprisingly, had a painting of Kermit the Frog in gimp get-up with a chain around his neck, being held by Missy Piggy wielding a whip. Iganga never ceases to amaze me.) The truth is, as uncomfortable as this place can sometimes be, it's become my home over the past few months. I've even found a neat jogging route around the perimeter of a (rather picturesque) swamp. I know I'll be sorry and relieved to leave, all at once. But Gabi, if you ever decide you'd like to see this place, there are people here who'd love to meet you.

Take care, all. Btw, my cousin, Monica, is getting married tomorrow!!! CONGRATULATIONS! I so wish I could be there. Have a wonderful wedding and honeymoon.

Kirstin

No camera!!!

2006-01-03T05:02:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, it's my own fault. I should have bought a new one before I left. Still planning to go into Kampala for repairs. But I will continue to pathetically describe what I saw yesterday in words; fortunately, Brent found a villager with a camera and paid him to take about ten pictures.

Yesterday was our first community-wide meeting. This is significant, because until now, we've been working only with the most interested and active individuals in both communities. We hadn't tried to reach out to or convince the average villager that hygiene is important, or that they should do anything about these issues. I'm not sure yet how successful we were yesterday; Brent and I tried to keep as low a profile as possible. But the drama group we hired kicked ass! They are a group of young twenty-somethings who have been performing for ten years. They are from a nearby village within the same sub-county (<15 mi radius), and have become so good that they've won national awards and even won a trip to perform in Sweden. It turns out that drama (and singing and dancing) is taken quite seriously in Uganda. You can major in it at the university, and people will respect you. (!!!) The national government values it sufficiently that each primary school is REQUIRED to have a drama group which is REQUIRED to perform at a national competition. Sort of like a mandatory spelling bee. Of course, drama groups here mix entertainment with social messages. Before Gabi gets his tidy-whities in a knot, I want to say that the group yesterday was VERY accurate in portraying village life. The performances seemed much less like proselytizing than humorous self-deprecation. People were are giggling, covering their faces, shaking their heads, laughing and craning their necks at their neighbors. The skit was about a couple who had no latrine, and when their in-laws visited, they sent the diarrhea-struck male in-law to the neighboring coffee plantation to defecate. He was apprehended by the owner of the plantation, and hauled off to jail. (yes, folks were laughing their tails off at THIS.) The male head of the compound just made excuses like, "Our latrine recently failed," and the wife made excuses, "You don't do any work at home, we work in the fields together, so why should I do more work than you?" and the kids just ignored their parents' orders to work altogether. Brent and I sat there, bewildered at why this was so funny to everyone, and terrified that these were the attitudes we were about to encounter.

The group finished by dancing and singing. They were awesome; I felt like I was watching National Geographic. Sweat poured down their faces, they danced so hard. I should explain that dancing here is part vigorous hip motion, and part running-in-place. Put them together and you have a nice, fast hip-leg roll. The women especially do this movement, and one of them was the little slutty girl who danced for us at the celebration we attended while on the JIDDECO field trip. She's an amazing dancer; it's just that she rolls her eyes up into her head and opens her mouth at the men she's dancing near. (I have a picture; will do my best to post it to the blog.) One of the (elite) Jinjans who were working with JIDDECO that day later told me she was scandalized by this girl. I was, too, but I wasn't about to admit it. I was too amused by the thought that a village girl had upset a university-grad girl.

At the end of the meeting, we had intended to have a community-wide discussion about the project, what to do about these problems, etc. Riiight. They were outta there. So the plan now is to have the hygiene committee designate the ten-household groups, and chat with the folks living in each one about who would make a good hygiene promoter. I know I keep saying this, but this community-based stuff is inspiring, fun, sluggish, tedious, and suffers from a lack of comprehension on both sides. Throw bizarre skin color and only speaking the language of the former colonial oppressors into the mix...In any case, even if our intensive promotional method completely falls through, the community will have: a) KAP (knowledge, attitudes, and practices) info on hygiene, sanitation, and diarrhea; b) a hell of a drama group performance; c) a hygiene committee; d) trained promoters/community resource people to whom they can turn if they're interested, and e) access to WaterGuard (sodium hypochlorite) solution. These aren't small things.

Life otherwise is just going on. It is very hot here. Abdul of Hot Chick, the local Pakistani restaurant, has recently gotten engaged to Maryam, the elder sister of Tehzeb, my little Mombassan friend. Word on the street is that Tehzeb herself (though only 18!) will soon become engaged to Abdul's good friend. The motorbike I used to ride out to the village yesterday broke down, and the second one barely made it in. Data entry in another language is difficult (but a great way to learn).

I miss you guys. I am going to drink coffee when I get home. (The beans are grown here, but not much processing.) And eat proper chocolate.

Love, Kirstin

Bienvenue, l'Annee Nouvelle!

2005-12-31T09:37:00.000-08:00

Hi guys. I haven't written in so long, I don't even know where to start this post.

1. Rwanda
Brent and I went to Rwanda for a week over Christmas. I wasn't that interested in going because I figured that Kigali would be just a smaller Kampala. and in some ways I was right. It was still pretty dirty and crowded, and much harder to get around by local transport if you didn't know what you were doing. But by the end of the week, I too had fallen in love with the place. Why?

a) We visited the genocide memorial that opened last year. It was both glossy and raw. Beautiful exhibits inside detailing the history of this genocide and others around the world; mass graves amidst rose gardens outside. I don't know what I expected, but I was struck by the nature of the genocide, that neighbors rose against neighbors. Even a priest caused a church to be bulldozed, murdering over a hundred of his own congregants. In Germany, the Nazis did what they could to hide the death camps from ordinary Germans, but in Rwanda, everything happened in plain sight by the people themselves. I doubt I'll ever understand that. I was also shocked to learn that Germany and Belgium (Rwanda's former colonial masters) are responsible for the rift between the Tutsis and Hutus. Belgium has apologized; Germany has not. France also supplied the Hutus with arms and training prior to the genocide and provided "safe spaces" for fleeing Hutu genocidaires. France has not yet apologized. Finally, the UN decreased the number of peacekeeping troops in Rwanda after the genocide had begun. God only knows why. All in all, it was one of the the most disturbing stories I had ever heard, the Holocaust notwithstanding. They had an exhibit on the children who were killed, and I started bawling at that point. The final words of two of the children reportedly were, "Don't worry, Mommy, the UN will come save us," and "Why are you doing this to me, I played with you yesterday!"
b) But given that horrific history that happened less than 12 years ago, Rwandans are great. They dislike disclosing whether or not they're Hutu or Tutsi, and I think that's probably a healthy attitude. They all seem to like the Tutsi president and seem to think he's doing a good job at reunification. They have nice restaurants, hotels, and there was a lot of Christmas shopping. People there were more reserved than in Uganda, but never impolite. They even put up with my terrible French, bless them. I've never been so impressed by people wanting to recover and build a nation they feel safe in and proud of.
c) Brent and I traveled with his friend, Angela, who had family in Kigali. After learning that our hotel room didn't have running water (so the toilet didn't flush!), her family put us up. It was fantastic staying at that house. Her aunt cooked us amazing food (cabbage, beans, and a breakfast porridge that takes 2.5 hrs to prepare), they took us out dancing twice, and I watched enough Nigerian movies that I have actualy come to like the genre. (Always, someone is bribed or exploited, and usually there's a murder.) In addition, Angela's friend from Jinja had moved to Kigali, so we were able to spend time with his friends. One guy had survived the genocide (was in hiding for four months, had actually outrun would-be murderers, and once went a week without eating) and he was our official Rwanda tour guide. Another chatted with Brent about Christian meditation, and still another told me about Rwandan gender issues and divorce laws, and proved an excellent dance partner. These were the first Africans my age I had met without children, and it felt great to be in the presence of ... friends.
d) I splurged and went to see the gorillas in the Parc National des Volcans on Christmas Day. The little ones were so cute! They do half cartwheels down the hill rather than just walking straight. Yes, we had to hike up a huge mountain on a path that was freshly cut by a machete, and yes, it almost cost as much as a kidney (j/k), but it was a great experience and I'm glad I got to do it.
Plus, the roads in Rwanda are fantastic. I wish the US would do as well.

2. In other news, Brent and I have finished our baseline survey in Budoma, meaning we are now done with preliminary surveying!! We still have to celebrate, though; we were so exhausted last night that we each slept ten hours. I'm not sure what we'll do for New Years. The local club is having a party but again, we'll have to muster the energy. Next, we'll have community meetings for each community, where we hope to select the hygiene promoters. Then we're planning a joint training session for the hygiene committees and hygiene promoters of both communities.

We're trying to finish all this before I leave the last week of January. My flight doesn't leave Africa until Feb. 8, but I was hoping to continue my tourism a bit. I met a British female overland truck driver (of tourists, in case you're like me and had never heard of overland trucking) who said that the three things one must do in East Africa are: 1) mountain gorillas, 2), Zanzibar, and 3) a Kenyan safari, preferably at the Masai Mara. #1, check! I'm checking out plane prices to Zanzibar or Dar es Salaam, since I can't imagine that it would be worth three days of bus travel alone.

Sorry for no pictures. Gabi's camera has died. I'm going to try to fix it in Kampala maybe the week after next. I photographed the mountain gorillas with a cheap regular film camera, so at least I'll have pictures, but not great ones.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. I didn't celebrate it in the most conventional way, but then, how could I without you? Christmas is about family and food, so I thought that the last remaining mountain gorillas on Earth would be the closest substitute for those two essential things. I hope you're well.

Love,
Kirstin

et tu, Blogger?

2005-12-18T06:56:00.000-08:00

I am not able to write any more posts. (3 have been lost already.) Any thoughts as to why?

Bad Blogger!

2005-12-18T06:36:00.000-08:00

Blogger has now lost two of my most recent posts. Clearly, I'm not meant to blog.

What I wanted to tell you was that this last week, Brent and I finished the baseline survey for our first, and smaller, community, Bigunho. We trained interested community members as interviewers and they conducted the survey themselves in groups. Mind you, some of these groups had about five or six people, due to the fact that only a handful were actually literate. And imagine Brent's and my surprise when we realized that despite carefully and publicly randomly selecting the households, the hygiene committee had decided to make their own list. In their defense, we do think that their list was also impartial, but certainly not randomly selected. We're determined to be more careful in Budoma, but at some point, you shrug and carry on.

Language and translation are major issues for us. Because on top of language and translation, you have issues of capacity. The people don't read or write. They don't know what a sample is, much less a random sample. To do the most convenient thing makes heaps more sense than bothering with all those silly pieces of paper and a hat. (Full disclosure: Brent and I were sampling without replacement. we were doing over 50% of the households in the community, how do you replace that?!) We also found out recently that merely conducting the meetings in English and Lusoga was causing some of the members anxiety about their ability to become trained hygiene promoters. They didn't realize that the training would be in Lusoga, but even after we told them it would be, I can see their point. All these activities going on are associated with white foreigners, are conducted in English (with translation), so what happens after we leave? I worry that our novelty and differentness alone diminishes their capacity, and am anxious to leave them in good hands.

So we're hoping to conduct the training of the hygiene promoters with the local development NGO, JIDDECO. They are thinking of incorporating these communities into their work area, so that the Bigunho and Budoma hygiene committees aren't left stranded. Theoretically, they're not stranded already. There's a subcounty health assistant, a county water inspector, and a parish development committee. Yup, all those entities exist, and yet Brent and I, two clueless people from another country, were asked to come in and simply organize them to do a water, sanitation, and hygiene project. The gov. officials are certainly underpaid, and possibly overworked, depending on who you ask. They do not seem to be effective at implementing projects, in any case.

Brent and I are heading to Rwanda on Tuesday, and will be in Rwanda or southwestern Uganda over Christmas. I get to practice a little French! I think on Friday or Saturday, I'll return to Uganda to go to Kabale and Lake Bunyoni. This is a volcanic lake that is supposed to be cold, have canoeing and mountain biking. I don't think I could imagine a better Christmas present than 3-4 days of biking around a mountain lake. And it will be below 70 degrees out!

Anyways, that's what's up with me. Keep in touch, y'all. Hope to see you soon.

Kirstin

2005-12-16T06:53:00.000-08:00

Aargh, stupid blogger. I just wrote a nice lengthy post, only to have blogger choose not to actually post it. Here's the abbreviated version:

1) one baseline survey is completed. Interested community members acted as interviewers, which had pros and cons. Pros: they were involved, excited, and known to the respondents. Cons: they were known to the respondents, and they decided (unbeknownst to us) that they would prefer not to interview the randomly selected households and made their own list. Power to the people. Clearly, the participatory approach has its drawbacks.

2) the baseline survey for the second (and larger) community will take place after Christmas, with training occuring next Monday.

3) there's a strong chance that we'll work with local development NGO, JIDDECO, for the hygiene, sanitation, and safe water training. They have a cool approach where they build something, then discuss the behaviors that go with it. So if they build a tippy-tap, they will then discuss how to handwash and the key times. In addition, they have agreed to train the hygiene promoters on how to approach households and extensively on the fecal-oral pathogen trasmission routes (my request; I'll draw up the diagrams myself, if I have to).

4) Brent and I are out of here on Monday night or Tuesday morning. We're going with his (ex?)girlfriend to Rwanda. Her family is from Kigale, so we're spending a few days there, then are going to Kabale to an idyllic volcanic lake where there's canoeing and mountain biking. I am so excited. We'll be back in town the Tuesday after Christmas - I'm not sure what email will be like in the interim.

5) General complaint: I get so dirty riding on those dusty roads and motorbikes, that when I come home in the evening, and scrub myself with soap and a loofah, I still turn the towel brown when I dry off. Basically, the skin itself has to come off for me to be clean.

I miss you all terribly, and am ready to come home. You know, except for this pesky project and the feeling that I should actually tour Africa a bit now that I'm here. Otherwise, life here continues to normalize. I can count to five in Lusoga and do a pretty good greeting. I learned that "I don't know" is "Tiidhi," and "other" is "Ebindhi." (Guess how I learned that!) If I were staying here another couple of months, I betchya I could actually learn this language. As it is, I'm just trying to get the basic grammar and key words.

Take care, and hopefully this post will actually go up.

Love, Kirstin

blind leading the blinder leading the blindest

2005-12-16T06:22:00.000-08:00

Hey guys. Sorry for the long absence. Brent and I have been working our tails off. After several set-backs (e.g., the Budoma hygiene committee not bothering to show up for a meeting), we finally finished training and conducting our baseline survey in the smaller community, Bigunho. Now...we hired our friend, Robert, to translate the survey from English to Lusoga. Robert works for the District Health Office as an interviewer and translator of health surveys. Perfect, yes? We originally gave him three days to get the translation done; didn't happen. So we extended it another day, stressing that we were training the community on Monday, and needed the survey done by Sat. night so that we could pilot test on Sunday. Didn't happen. Gave him till Sunday night; his brother ended up in the hospital in Jinja. In summary, Brent and I got a total of three hours sleep each on Monday night as we crammed to edit and make copies of the damn survey to begin surveying at 9am on Tuesday morning. Brent even called another friend, Chris, over at 5:30 in the morning to "pilot test" the survey with Alpa, one of the employees at our guesthouse. Yes, of course we paid them, but still... I covered the training, meaning that it was pragmatic, rather boring, and not at all sufficiently practical to prepare them for the work the next day. Having said that, I love watching people conduct interviews, espcially if it's my data. No really - despite all the faltering, the taking twice as long as it should have, it was great to watch these dedicated people have conversations with their neighbors about their hygiene practices and living situations. Brent and I keep walking this line between wanting scientifically defensible information about our work and wanting to build the capacity of the community. It's probably not walkable: we should have either hired outside interviewers or written the survey off as information that will mainly serve the community, not us. Especially since that at the very end of the survey process, we discovered that despite randomly selecting households, the interviewers had ignored those selections and had gone on to make lists of households that they chose to interview. (I'm not kidding. Brent and I just sat there, mouths hanging open, trying not to laugh or cry.) But I'm still glad they were involved - we really are only the facilitators of their hygiene project, difficult as that sometimes is to remember.

We're conducting Budoma's hygiene training next week, with Robert leading it. Their survey will happen after Christmas. We have a community meeting in Bigunho tomorrow to give them their results (yeah, I'm still making the EpiInfo file, much less having entered all the data, much less analyzed it. speaking of sleepless nights.). Finally, we're hoping to work with JIDDECO to do the hygiene and sanitation training. JIDDECO's approach is pretty cool; they actually build the hardware (latrine, tippy-tap, etc.) in various houses in the community, then discuss the hygiene behaviors that accompany each piece of hardware. So after demonstrating how to make a tippy-tap, they would then discuss the key handwashing times and steps. The only parts of the training without a hardware component will be teaching the fecal-oral diarrhea pathogen transmission routes and methods for the health promoters to approach households. If this health promoter (per ten households) model is accepted by the communities, we're even thinking of hosting a hygiene/sanitation competition, but instead of allowing individual households to compete, they will have to compete with their groups. I.e., peer pressure to get loot will build more latrines (how's that for a socialist approach, sweetie?).

In the midst of all this chaos, Brent and I are going south to Rwanda. His ex-girlfriend's family is from Kigale, so we'll travel there with her. Then after Christmas, we'll go back to Uganda to Kabale, where there's this idyllic volcanic lake retreat with canoeing and mountain biking. I can't wait. Did I mention that I'm covered from head to toe in dust every time I go out to the village (due to traveling by motorbike), and that except for today, I have gone out every day for the past week and a half? I use a loofah to scrub myself clean, and even then, my towel will still sometimes turn brown when I dry off; it's amazing.

So, stuff's happening. Project should be implemented by second or third week of January. I'm taking off the fourth week of January to somewhere: a) Murchison Falls, b) Kenyan safari, or c) Kenyan coast (or Zanzibar). And I'll be home in Atlanta on Feb. 10th.

I hope you're well. Please pray for me in my scrambling.

Love, Kirstin

Note from Africa: We're doing fine on our own, thanks.

2005-12-04T09:03:00.000-08:00

Hey guys. So sorry about the pictures. The internet is just way too slow here in Iganga. Will have to wait until the next time I'm in Kampala. and Gabi's camera is sucking the life out of batteries at a breakneck rate; I'm having to replace them every couple of weeks. Still, I'll try to give you a better flavor of life here.

As for me, the project is moving along. I spent most of today working on our survey, which I'm stealing from the Environmental Health Project Guidelines. (Anyone interested in the definitive series of Wat/San projects should check out www.ehproject.org. Okay, so I still need to figure out the URL thing.) Brent and I had intended to get the survey done this next week, giving us plenty of time for translation and pilot testing. Ha. We meet with the Bigunho community members yesterday, and they informed us that they would like to have the results of the survey prior to holding a community meeting - which needs to happen before we select and train the hygiene promoters. So now we're scrambling. Either way, it's great to be working with a community that is so excited about development. On the other hand, we haven't yet done a training course for the hygiene committee, so I think we have a committee that doesn't really understand how washing ones hands prevents diarrheal disease. (The participatory problem identification and solving process, while great at involving people, doesn't always transfer much actual information.)

And because we're such pros, Brent and I have added another community, Budoma. This community desperately wants us to come in and help to start a hygiene project. Desperately, why? Because they're snot-nosed, English-speaking, educated, with a woman head of the local council community. They need a hygiene program like they need a ... well, actually I can't think of much that any of these communities couldn't use. Even jerry cans come in handy. The point is, this is a beautiful model community. The spotless yards have hedges planted on their perimeters. Every yard has a big tall tree, often flowering in bright red or yellow blossoms. The houses are mud with thatch or tin roof, and are painted in pretty designs. Some even have porches made of brick with a thatch overhang. It's African Tudor. Needless to say, I loved it there. We even met this hardcore sustainable agriculture guy, who laughed outright at me when I asked if his passion fruits were tomatoes (like I would know that!). He's raising all sorts of plants and animals that are bred to withstand disease: bananas, pineapples, European goats, cows, and chickens... and he doesn't have a ton of land either. He grows the vine plants on trellises in his courtyard area, so they provide shade and food. It reminded me of the patio vineyards I saw in Romania.

And that's most of the news from here. The weather has mercifully cooled off a bit, though I know it won't last. (We're heading into the "hot" season. Can't wait.) I'm still terrified of the motorbikes, but I dutifully ride on the backs of them, acknowledging that I have no other reliable, timely transport options. We also rode on the backs of bicycles on Saturday, because Budoma was a ways away from the trading center where we left our motorbikes. I felt so bad for my driver. I clearly weighed quite a bit more than he, and the poor man rode nearly the whole way with his butt off the seat. And these aren't light bikes, either. They look as though they're made of steel. As for entertainment, Brent and I occasionally play pool at the local Indian restaurant, from where we also rent bootleg DVDs. We tried to watch "War of the Worlds," only to discover it was in Russian (we were wondering what the communist angle was all about). I've also been befriended by two Kenyan Muslim sisters. One is slightly older than I am, and the other is 18. The 18 year-old is hilarious; she constantly asks the Pakistani proprietor of the restaurant why he isn't married yet, and if he has sweat in his eyes, asks him why he's crying. And he never learns to talk back; he answers each question literally, which is of course, the funniest part.

So life is good here. I'm even bothered less and less by those greedy little urchins asking for money; they are kinda cute after all. But when all's said and done, I miss you guys! I'm glad and grateful for the opportunity to be here, but I won't be sorry to come either. I hope you all get a chance to visit the safe parts of Africa one day, too, though. These are some mischievious and fun-loving people.

"Goblet of Fire" has just opened in Kampala, and as a newly-minted Harry Potter fanatic, I'll most likely go next weekend, so pictures should go up then. I hope you're all well.

Love,
Kirstin

Holy Totalitarianism!!!

2005-11-25T17:20:00.000-08:00

Allo, mes amis. (Again, I'm at Red Chilli in Kampala. Lots of Frogs here this week.)

Yesteday, Brent and I had my second (his third) meeting with the community leaders (they represent two villages of about 80 households each. I think.). The meeting went as slowly as the last one. We were discussing which interventions we wanted to incorporate into our project. Several people said that they didn't like WaterGuard (the NaClO solution) because it cost money, and so for everyone to have safe water, we should just pay for a borehole instead. Boreholes are very expensive, don't account for the possibility of household contamination, and only serve a limited number of people. But the last two reasons aside, the first was enough for us to flat out tell them that we couldn't do it. They've already applied for one with the District Water Office (will take a few years), and we can submit an application on their behalf at Busoga Trust (but they won't get accepted. Busoga Trust only drills in communities that have no water sources within 1.5 km.), but the point is, their first preference is a no-go through us.

So...they had a long back and forth about the pros and cons of WaterGuard, when our friend, the subcounty speaker, saved the day by noting that they could use WaterGuard until they got their borehold. Such a wise, diplomatic man. Brent and I thought things were progressing nicely, but slowly, and so we asked the speaker, Banuli, to take over the rest of the meeting agenda, while the translator translated quietly back to us alone. In essence, we withdrew from the meeting discussion, except that I was taking notes.

THE NEXT THING WE KNEW...the community (leaders; not whole community) had agreed upon the following:

a water committee to oversee the hygiene behaviors of the households in the village
a system of fines which would be imposed by this committee for anyone whose house wasn't up to snuff
a constitution on hygiene that would declare what was acceptable and what wasn't
and (so this was a good idea) a competition for the best kept, most hygienic house to a man and a woman. We were informed that we were expected to contribute prizes.

Brent and I just listened to this in absolute bewilderment. He was more annoyed than I was (he had just spent 30 minutes before the meeting asking Banuli if we could make decisions in a democratic way, with the whole community, etc. He never dreamed that a system of punishment would be determined on top of deciding how to progress with the project.), and he started making cracks about how we were going to hang people without latrines over the pits of other latrines by their toenails. I was giggling out of shock and despair. I ran all this by Gabi last night, and he, true to form, said... well here's what he said,

"You got the second best outcome. The very best would have been both safe water and a bit of democratic exercise, at the end of which everybody locks arms and starts singing. But it would have been worse to have the democracy and the singing without the safe water, right? You should only worry about how things turned out if there is a risk thatyour go-getter village elders turn out to be Nazis who raid the kitty and use this impromptu health code to punish people whose cattle strayed onto the elders'sorghum fields, or won't let their daughters be the elders' sex toys."

The man has a way with words. I think that these leaders have their community members best interests at heart, and Brent and I are going to ensure that the water committee (who will be issuing the fines) does not have access to either WaterGuard profits nor fined money. In the meantime, we're going to try to talk them out of the whole punishment scheme altogether. (You should have heard Brent explain about the role of the hygiene promtoers as negotiators and encouragers of the households. Heart-rending.) But I have to say, no one at the meeting seemed surprised or dismayed at the outcome. On the contrary, they were raring to go. And Brent had heard similar reports from other NGOs who had done water or hygiene projects, from after "handing over" the project to the community. So it seems likely that this is just how business is done here.

As I mentioned, I'm back in Kampala at Red Chilli. (I love this place. It's quiet, everyone's friendly, and you can put everything on tab. and there are little monkeys in the trees.) I have a cold, so am not sure what I'm doing this weekend (came back for more money) - might go to Entebbe and get you all some decent beach pictures. Brent and I were also able to track down a Lusoga dictionary, grammar book, and a book on the culture of the Busoga people, all from a Cultural Resource Center operated by the Catholic Diocese in nearby Jinja. And we met a Dutch missionary priest who has lived in Uganda for 35 years, calls all his appliances his "girlfriends" (his motorcycle is his first girlfriend. He has four ribs that he has never broken.), drinks only beer and water due to diabetes, and has a card on his wall that says, "My pope smokes dope," with a picture of his holiness and a roll. Shauna, you'd love him. He sounds insane, I know, but he works with gay Ugandan HIV+ street youths, trying to keep them safe, healthy, and from killing themselves. Pretty amazing guy, really.

Always an adventure here...

Kirstin (Naigaga is my Lusoga name)

Choose your own lifestyle

2005-11-19T23:29:00.000-08:00

I wrote a new entry-and didn't put it on my stick. I took new pictures (yes, including handwashing facilities, Rebecca. You are as much of a water nerd as I am.)-and didn't put them on my stick. I came to Kampala this weekend specifically to cash a personal check-and didn't bring the check. So all that posting will come on Monday, but let me just say that we've spoken again with the community leaders, and they seem interested in spearheading a chlorination and hygiene project, so we might be good to go in a couple of weeks! Yes, I know I've been here a month, but it actually takes that long to get materials, meet with other local NGOs, create a proposal, budget, etc. Or at least it does when you arrive not really knowing what's going on. Now I know!

On the flip-side of all community work, I spent yesterday evening at Brent's ex-boss's expat's house, eating macaroni salad, rice, a wee bit of BBQ'd chicken (but don't get your hopes up, Gabs), and ended up watching bootlegged copies of season 7 of "Friends." It was fantastic. There were all sorts of expats there (which in case you don't know, seems like a very weird life to me. I wouldn't like it, but I do like to benefit from their presence in the countries I visit.): South African cell phone tower engineer, and English, Indian, and American scientists. Mike, the ex-boss, works for the Walter Reed Foundation, so everyone there was doing either HIV or malaria research. Ironically, all the Americans but one were Californians: Berkeley and San Diego to be exact. The single non-Californian was from Case Western in Ohio. One female researcher for UCSF has lived in Africa for 6 years, about two of which were spent in Uganda. I can't even imagine. As I said, the expat lifestyle doesn't appeal to me, but neither does doing what it would take to truly acclimate to an ordinary Ugandan's life. These people (the expats) don't even use public transportation. In summary, I'm glad that I'm able to have this experience. I visit the rich people (and get to watch BBC) in Kampala. I also live in a small trading town where all sorts of interesting Ugandans and others come through - and where Christians and Muslims banter and trade. (That's banter, not barter. More on that in a moment.) And finally, I work in a community without water or electricity, or more often than not, toilet facilities. In many ways, the people in the village are nicer than those in town, and it's a pleasure to spend time with them.

My time's almost up, so quickly, I got to hear an evangelical Christian African inform the Muslim proprietor of our internet cafe that "God was going to send Allah to hell." To which the estimable Je (in his early 30's, I'd guess) replied with a smile, "Sir, he'll send you there first." The whole conversation lasted at least half an hour, and at one point, the Christian dude offered evidence that Allah didn't love Muslims because he didn't stand by Saddam Hussein. As the single white, American person in the room, I crouched as low as I could. Thank God for tolerant muslims in Uganda.

Much love,
Kirstin

All in a Weekend's Work

2005-11-14T19:22:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone. It seems I need to update this blog more frequently; I’m going to aim for twice per week. Is it any excuse that since last night, the water has been out in my guesthouse? I’m trying to think of it as professional research.

I think I’ll write this in short diary format, starting last Thursday. Last Thursday, Joel and I met up with Brent in Kampala (again), but this time for fun. Joel was leaving Uganda on early Saturday morning, and we were determined to have him go out in style. So…did we go out dancing until two in the morning? Er, no, we went to the single bowling alley in Uganda, drank beer, and listened to karaoke á la Celine Dion, Bon Jovi, and Shania Twain. Sounds like hell, huh? Actually, it was great. The bowling alley was lit by blacklight, and all the balls were fluorescent colors. There were only four lanes and they seemed smaller than the standard size, but a few of the bowlers were experts, striking every time. The singing was also a "you had to be there" kind of experience. One guy with moved like Michael Jackson, the emcee sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," and I’m pretty sure Joel was emotionally moved by Celine’s "I’ll be Waiting for You." He also claimed that the Bon Jovi rendition was "dead on." I was fine as long as I was drinking (er, sorry Mom), but as soon as my beer ran out, it was time to leave.

On Friday, we headed for the beach. Where is the beach in landlocked Uganda? On the shores of Lake Victoria, of course. The town of Entebbe contains the single airport in Uganda and is a sort of local Beverly Hills. Local motorcycle rides there cost twice as much as in Kampala and about 2.5 times as much as in Iganga. I feel very stupid, but I didn’t photograph the beach. The reason I didn’t is even stupider; a secondary school was celebrating the end of examinations there, and four giddy fourteen year-old girls ambushed me and asked me to "take a sap." I lied and said I didn’t have a camera, and was careful not to whip it out the rest of our time there. But you have to understand these girls - they made me play ring-around-the-rosy with them in the water; they tried to dunk me; with Brent’s help, they started a splash fight with me; they tried to hook up their male classmates with me...! Brent and I were in the water with them in this maelstrom when Joel started to come out as well. Brent was about to sic them on Joel, when Joel realized what was going on and turned tail. One girl asked Brent what was wrong with him, while another replied ominously, "He is an angry muzungu." I couldn’t help laughing. The rest of the day, the girls asked me to take messages back to the "angry muzungu" telling him to cheer up. It was great. It was just so good to see skin again; I never feel like life is proper unless you’re half naked, not too dry, and it’s hot outside. A little sunburn sometimes doesn’t hurt, either.

On Saturday, I headed back to Iganga. Joel had left for Europe, and Brent had left for a monastery outside of Kampala (he meditates). As the 3 hour journey progressed, I started to realize that, "Oh crap. I’m now here alone." A play-by-play of Saturday and Sunday isn’t necessary, but suffice it to say that I did some work and quite a bit of feeling sorry for myself. Let me explain further: I haven’t been able to form friendships with local people here. Men invariably hit on me. Women tend to avoid me, or else ask when I can take them to the States. Even a really nice old man that I ran into while taking an evening walk (named Patrick Bosco. Gabi, we should consider that name for our first son.) ended up asking me what I was going to give him before I left for him to remember me by. All of this could be a cultural misunderstanding: men could just be complimenting me, women are complimenting my country, and Patrick Bosco was perhaps expressing affection. The point is, I don’t know the truth, but I don’t feel like I’m treated as a peer. To make matters worse (or better, again depending on perspective), I have become the favorite sport of the children near my guesthouse. When they see me walking, they will run up to me and pat my bottom, because I frequently keep loose change in my back pocket. They demand I give them money, I make a funny face at them, they giggle, retreat, then advance again. It’s all fun and games now, but I can’t help but anticipate a Lord of the Flies scenario one of these days. In fact, it was exactly from one of these kiddie ambushes that Patrick Bosco rescued me in the first place.

In any case, until today, I’ve been feeling a bit displaced. But today, I re-met with my favorite local water NGO, Busoga Trust. This NGO used to be funded by the UK’s Dept. of International Development (DfID) (USAID equivalent) until DfID decided to give all their funds to the national Ugandan government instead of directly to the NGOs, and Busoga Trust never saw another dime. Fortunately, they’re experienced and effective, and are able to fundraise through churches and charities in the UK (and most recently, a Lutheran church in Raleigh, NC). I had a long meeting with the Community Development Team, the part of Busoga Trust that does hygiene promotion, and became more convinced than ever that UVP needs to partner with them to conduct our Safe Water System project. In its commitment to community ownership and sustainability, Busoga Trust teaches people to use local materials to create hygiene facilities: pit latrines out of sticks and mud instead of expensive concrete; utensil drying racks out of sticks; handwashing stations with strings tied to sticks and jerry cans; and ash instead of soap for hand disinfectant. They demonstrate ideal behaviors by having the community members select the worst house in the community (they claim that this isn’t a humiliating practice), then turning it into a "model home," with each of the aforementioned features. Brent may disagree with me, but I don’t think we’d have the first clue on how to build a pit latrine out of mud. What really reassured me was their candor. The leader, Sam, said, "Let’s face it, the people will take one look at you and think, ‘Cash.’" I suppose those words had more power since that had been my experience ALL WEEKEND. I have no idea whether we’ll be able to afford their services, but now that I know they’re available, I don’t think that UVP can afford not to use this type of local expertise. In fact, I think that the organization is going to morph into sort of a community development oversight body, that co-designs interventions with local contracting NGOs (like Busoga Trust), pays them to implement the interventions, and does the occasional evaluation with an accompanying report back to funders in the US. The rest of UVP’s activities will deal with medical tourism, which is half of its original mandate. (Check out http://www.ifmsa-usa.org/village.htm for further information on the International Federation of Student Medical Associations and their Village Projects.) I left Busoga Trust with their project and budget report from last year, a promise to send them our project proposal and timeline, and plans to meet them again on Wednesday to see a model house demonstration.

So regarding the project, I now feel renewed, hopeful that we’ll have enough support for this project to be successful. Regarding security, the situation isn’t quite as good. Brent was supposed to return to Iganga from Kampala this evening, but was advised not to travel due to "political riots" in Kampala (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/4435490.stm). And last week, the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army - complete assholes. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4435296.stm) shot a UK expat who was guiding a rafting tour outside of Murchison National Park, in northern Uganda. Iganga is quiet and safe, but let’s just say I may not do very much tourism in Africa, after all.

Regarding pictures, we all know I’m lame. I have a few up on kodakgallery at http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=h08pexy.9m97nure&Uy=-budfdw&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0. Several are pictures of Joel at the local hospital (where one man died of diabetes complications - there is no emergency care here whatsoever, not even a defibrillator), and a few are of Makerere University. The river shot is the source of the Nile. (!!)

Here’s to: taking more pictures, posting more often, implementing a sustainable community-based water project, and keeping out of trouble.

Kirstin

P.S. Say, does anyone know how to hyperlink so I don't have to insert the URLs into the text?

Holla back!

2005-11-06T05:23:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone. Rebecca Daniels has encouraged me to start a blog of my life in Uganda, and I agree, it's a good idea. The problem with the idea is that I live in a small town about three hours outside of the capital city, Kampala. The town, Iganga, receives electricity for about half a week. The government offices and nice hotels run off of generators, but the rest of us are cut off from: email, charging cell phones, charging laptops, etc. It was so bad this last week that my co-worker dragged me off to Kampala so that we could spend the weekend online. That's three hours, one way, in order to write to y'all.

I'm not sure where to start in describing Uganda, so I think I'll write under subject headings. I've been here for a little over two weeks, so these are still pretty preliminary impressions.

Children/Begging
Children in Iganga are cute and well-fed. They constantly yell out "How are you, Muzungu [white person]? Give me 100! [Ugandan shillings = 10 cents]" They are adorable, but do a good job of reminding us that we are not regular people who can blend in. We are the exotic people-with-money.

Children in Kampala are poor, and frequently beg on behalf of their parents. I have yet to see an able-bodied adult beg in Kampala. There is no social security here, and you see people crawling on their hands and knees (with footflops strapped to their hands) on the sidewalks. On the other hand, food is plentiful and most able-bodied people seem to be working. It could be worse. I tend not to give money, though I definitely see the point of charity in the city, because it would draw too much attention to me. I'm still working out a discreet system of coin dropping.

Adults
Grown-ups tend to be polite and friendly, though some more or less than others. The attention from men is mercifully small (certainly compared to anywhere in Latin America), but on the other hand, I've been in the company of white American men who are each over 6'3" and hover around 200 lbs. The women tend to be at work or home tending to children, so it might be challenging to find some female friends. But obviously, being friends with men is not really an option.

Language
Almost all adults greet me in Lusoga, and fully expect me to be able to greet them back. They're such nice people, it's terrible to hear the reproachful, "When will you start to learn our language?" English is enough to get by professionally, but on a personal basis, I'm going to have to do my best to learn. I miss out on all the gossip and jokes!

Haggling
People frequently inflate prices, so the best way to get a fair price is to know the cost ahead of time. So far, no one has everyone gotten angry with us (or with my coworker who is an expert haggler), but we have had to walk away a few times.

Kampala (the City)
Kampala is a bustling city that sits on a hill. Up the hill lay the government buildings, nice hotels, and comfortable restaurants. At the bottom of the hill lays the chaos. Thank goodness crime is low here, because you are surrounded by people on every side who don't share an American's ideal of personal space. Electronics stores, clothing, internet, food "take-aways", sidewalk hawkers, etc. - you have to develop tunnel vision to arrive anywhere. The old taxi park - where minibuses arrive from eastern Uganda - is the size of a full city block. The minibuses are organized by destination, so you have to go around calling out for your destination, and wait for other drivers to direct you to your section of the park. The minibuses are...somewhat safe. I haven't gotten in an accident yet! As for nightlife, I haven't been clubbing yet, but I attended an outdoor "jazz and reggae on the green" concert last Monday. The local music is phenomenal.

Iganga
one internet cafe, one hotel restaurant where we play endless games of crazy eights, one fabulous Indian restaurant that also serves up bootleg DVDs, and a supermarket that keeps me in stock with bread, peanut/sesame butter and mango jelly. Add on that I've been compulsively reading the Harry Potter books, and you'll have a pretty good picture of my eventful life in Iganga. One neat thing about the town is that it's the trading center for the district (like a county). It has an extensive vegetable market and lots of small shack stores that sell everything from traditional dress to the latest Nikes.

My life
I live in a guesthouse (sort of like an inn), in a small room with a private toilet and shower. The water is cold and unsafe, but it's great to be able to shower whenever I want to. Confession: I brought a water filter from REI and I tend to filter, rather than chlorinate, my water. To be as safe as possible, I should do both. To lend credibility to the water I'll be promoting in the villages, I should just chlorinate. At least I'm now a bit more sympathetic to complaints about the taste of chlorinated water. Tap water in the US at the tap is about 4 times less chlorinated than the water in the household jerrycans, because the water in the jerrycans is meant to have a decent residual.

The project itself is moving a bit slowly, in no small part due to the power outtages. I am working with a 24 year-old Uganda veteran named Brent. He is amazing when it comes to partnering with NGOs and outreach to the communities. For my part, I'm writing up the proposal, timeline, budget, surveys, and training curricula. I think we'll make a good team - he speaks decent Lusoga (after only being here for five months) and loves working in the village. In fact, he plans to move out to one of the villages soon.

At which point, I'll be on my own in Iganga with the tempermental internet. At least half of this experience is about making one's way in a foreign country, almost more than the project itself. (Which is the best argument for NGOs hiring local staff that can be made.) I have no idea what my social life will consist of. But the good news is that I am worried about a social life! I feel very safe here. I don't intend to walk by myself at night or anything - I realize that my safety is 100% dependent on the goodwill of the locals and not police protection - but people here really are goodnatured and easy-going. Currently, Brent and I occasionally go jogging in the environs of Iganga. We always end up with a pack of kids laughing and following us. It's rather humiliating to have five-year olds outpace you - sometimes carrying jerrycans full of water - but it does make for an interesting run.

And that's my first post! I'll try to get some pictures up, though it's tricky to take pictures without anyone noticing. Please feel free to post comments or questions, all. I'll answer any questions you've got.