Just the usual disclaimer... Remember that my words are my own and do not represent Fulbright, the US State Department, IREX or the US Embassy.

EPISODE 6

I arrived Saturday night late back in the States, and though I am sitting down to pen the final blog post of this most excellent adventure, I believe that there is an enduring spirit to the thing. I have made dear friends that I will keep in my heart and explored places of this earth that I will likely never be again. When asked how the trip was, there is a standard and vehement answer of, “It was incredible!” But when prompted to move beyond and into depth, I am left flummoxed and without words. Stories and explanations come out contextually and as they bubble to the top unprompted by anything more than my mind sifting through the layers unbid and unhindered in the background hum of moments that pass.

You see… I think I may finally have captured the why. The why. Why do I love to spend time in other cultures immersed in the vibration of something different? Why is there a resonance to being “elsewhere”? Perhaps my conclusion is this… I am a better me, potentially the best me when I am elsewhere. I am the me I wish I was all the time.

There is a deep and molecular vigilance to living in another culture where you are constantly working more diligently to understand words and actions, to interpret the layers of culture, history and transactions that you never even see when home, and to appreciate the different. In your home country where your tongue and behavior are part of the fiber of being, life continues unexamined for the most part. You may question something from time to time, but generally speaking, we move forward with little awareness of our motivations or examination of purpose.

When living elsewhere, I am more intentional about everything and examine continually. I understand that I am an ambassador of humanity and want to contribute the maximum possible. I would love to remain this me. The intentional one. Though I am aware that all the same I will relax into the comfort and ease of my own space, the time spent elsewhere has left me different. Marked. Better. Reminded me of what it means to be human. Reminded me of who I strive to be.

To be clear, I am not talking about visiting (though that certainly contributes and has purpose), I am speaking of investing in a place. When you invest time in a place, you live lifetimes and volumes in moments and the shift in your fabric is irreversible.

But I digress… The final week of Uganda was spent deep in joy and anticipation in equal measure. Three days in Murchison Falls National Park on Safari was profoundly impressive. Having worked 6 days a week for the duration of my stay, I booked a couple of days respite. I had no idea that giraffes were the ballet masters of the savannah with their loping grace and long movements. Every corner forded us views, vistas, and animals of all sorts. Leopards, Hyenas, Elephants, African Buffalo, Warthogs, all manner of Gazelle-type animals, Monkeys, Hippos, and (If you can believe it) more! As I watched the second stunning sunrise on the African savannah, I identified that I had what I termed as “resting smile face”... I was imbued with gratitude and joy that my opportunities had led me to that moment. My shoulders were not pinched up and laced with impending, ongoing, and fatiguing stress. I was just there. Present. I want to be more of that in my life, and I have come to the conclusion that it is about perspective. My joy at being in Uganda did not indicate perfection, but rather embracing imperfection. I was all the things I want to be… Flexible, joyful, relaxed, creative, deeply invested in those around me, passionate about my work, and never missing an opportunity, but instead grasping them at every turn. As the realities of life set back in, I want to keep as much of that as possible.

I wrapped up my work with a final workshop and an exit meeting with the director of the Ministry Department I was working under. I did final shopping. I packed. I spent the final day with my friends, breathing them in as I prepared for the enduring space between us. Waving at them as I walked into the airport checkpoint, the sadness at leaving them to their hard lives and their insistent resilience, knowing I may never come back and missing them already and grateful that they loved me. I turned to look forward to coming home, my kids, my family, my place, my life. I am taking so many things with me.

Epilogue: I have written for professional reasons and am a writer in my private existence. This is the first time, however, that I have shared regular written thought with a more public context. I have found it an enjoyable exercise, and I can genuinely understand why historically diaries were so prevalent and now blogging takes a prominent role. There is a deeper examination of life’s proceedings and intentional inclusion of others in what remains for many in American society as staunchly individualistic lives. Thank you to everyone for reading.

EPISODE 5

“Beans?”

“Yes, beans,” and I am laughing at the look on his face.

“Are you sure?” Lionel is looking at me as though I have completely lost my mind.

Beans. Who knew they could be innovative? Sometimes it is simply an outside eye… a fresh perspective that offers you something new.

I was lucky enough to spend 2 days out of this week working at primary schools (like elementaries for the States) doing lessons, observing classrooms, and doing professional development with the teachers on the topics agreed to between myself and the Headteacher (Principal).

I had had my neighbor (a fellow American who is an English Language Fellow wrapping up 9 months of work here at a local university) grab me some beans when she went to her favorite vegetable stand on her way home from work, so Lionel didn’t know I had taken beans to the first school, let alone what I had used them for. So when I said that I need to drop by a stand for a kilo of beans to use in my lessons with kids the next day, he really did think I had turned ga-ga.

‘What was I doing with them?’ you may be asking yourself… I was using beans for Math and counting exercises (manipulatives, for you educator types). My thinking was simple. I needed something that I could buy a lot of for cheap and that could be easily distributed and stored. Beans. This was my answer.

I taught my lessons the first day, and I only used the beans with the younger kiddos. Counting for the very littles, and adding and subtracting for those a bit older. The teachers’ mouths were hanging open. Beans are food, not a teaching tool. The kids had a grand time though, and the feedback at the end of the day (keep in mind I had given 4 separate lessons with quite a variety of strategies) was, “We need to use beans for math!”

OK. New ideas come from new exposure right? Well, it doesn’t stop there! The starting scene of this post was Lionel being astounded that I was going to use beans in lessons. It gets better…

The second day, the Headteacher had specifically asked that I demonstrate interactive math strategies. (You know what is coming right?) Lionel, though thinking I am nuts, pulls over at a stand, and I buy more beans. (I left the first batch at the first school for them to keep using.) We had great lessons and a total blast. I gave feedback on classroom observations and did some professional development with the teachers. When asked what the highlight of the day was… Beans. Unanimously. Lionel took me to meet and eat with his family, and he tells the story to his wife.

“Beans?” She is incredulous.

Wow. I mean you could even go ahead and eat them right? We do boil them for like days anyway. Something that seemed so simple to me was a mind-blown situation for those who encountered the idea. You just never know when you will encounter beans!

I mentioned that Lionel took me to his family’s home to hang out and have dinner. I must mention that they fed me… They didn’t eat. Lionel hadn’t eaten I know because he had been running around. Maybe his family already ate? I still need to ask him why I ate and they didn’t. His wife, Jackie, is a spectacular cook by the way… Pork in a spiced sauce, fresh mango and avocado, and something that looked like cajun dirty rice and was deliciously flavored. They all hopped in the car and delivered me home after we enjoyed our visit.

I prepare separately for each workshop I give depending on the audience, the topics, the duration, etc. I had a busy week coming, so I had quite a list of things to print out as a couple of schools I was going to didn’t have projectors. I needed printed copies of the key material for those spots. (You caught that right? No projector in the school…) I had gotten chummy with the copy shop dude at the shop just down the street as I have stopped in several times over my time in Uganda. Anthony. Today, I was there for quite a while as we printed things then made copies of them (prints and copies cost different amounts by the way.) We were chatting about how he has just finished Secondary school and is ready to start university in the Fall. He wants to be a pharmacist because he wants to help people, but he doesn’t know if the blood and surgery business is for him. He also has the long term plan in mind. Doctors are REQUIRED to retire at a certain age (60, I think), but Pharmacists can keep working as long as they want. He’s a great kid!

I asked him where the nearest shop was that I could by crayons, paper, etc. School stuff. He was closing the shop anyway he said, and he offered to show me. I love this place. So he took an extra 30 minutes on an already long day to walk me to the school supply shop to get the things I needed for the next day - there and back. He works 6 days a week, 11 hours a day minimum. He doesn’t know how he is going to pay for school in the Fall, but he is going to find a way. (They don’t do school loans here, by the way.) And for the record here… He works all those hours and makes 150,000ugx a month. And in case you were about to google that, at the going rate, that is about $41.

I still have a week left, but the goodbyes have already begun and my heart sags with the weight of leaving so soon as I have only begun to dive into the world that is Uganda. Lionel and I have been taking every spare moment on the way to and from things for him to show me more of the city, visit places (like a local coffee processing spot, and the headquarters of FUFA where I got my kids official Ugandan football (soccer) jerseys), and buy souvenirs. As we are saying… “Let’s take every opportunity!”

I am writing this post a tad early, because tomorrow I am venturing out on a 3-day safari. I have worked hard and am intensely excited to head to Murchison Falls National Park and see a side far from the city. When I return, I will have 3 days left. How did that happen…

EPISODE 4

Time is flying… Life is happening… and somehow it is the middle of week 5 and I only this minute recalled that I didn’t write the blog post for Week 4.

Many can say that they have been in two places at once, but can you say that you have been in both hemispheres at once? On my travels west out of Kampala (but not quite far enough to be into the western district) to Masaka, we crossed the Equator. The incredibly awesome and best tour guide ever, Lionel, pulls over, “We are here.”

“Where?”

“The Equator. Come! You need to take pictures!” “...Stand here, pose this way, look at where you are!”

If you are a literary sort, then my blogs may begin to take on the tone of Travels with Charlie or Tuesdays with Morrie, because (as ever) it is the ride in the car that is a significant highlight of the trip. We talked of languages and traditions in the region. We talked of the landscape that was so very lush and wonderful with green rolling hills of alternating trees and sugar cane and rice. They sell bags of raw sugar cane that is peeled on the side of the road. It is in short sticks that are juicy when you bite into them. You chew them down and suck out all the juice leaving the stringy remains to toss.

I had seen the workers walking along the side of the road munching on the cane sticks directly and Lionel snagged some for us when we were at a stop light. A large bag of 10 or so sticks for 5000 shillings or $1.38…

When we traveled to Gulu, I had booked a hotel ahead of time. (Sounds normal right?) I booked a double room for Diana and I. When we arrived, Diana instructs the front desk clerk imperiously to, “Show us the rooms you have.”

Huh?

We walked into the first room… Diana stands there like a General inspecting the barracks, “And the other room you have?”

We see the second one (much like the first except it doesn’t have two chairs in it, only 1), “Bring a second chair. We are two. We will take this one.” Still confused, I am just following along…

Fast forward to the Masaka trip… Since she was not coming on the trip, Diana had secretly instructed Lionel (maybe we should call them the Dynamic Duo!) to not let me book in advance. That he should help me get accommodations Ugandan style. But I am a quick study… I did NOT book ahead. We had been given 2 recommendations on places that are “good enough” for me (the muzungu) to stay. We went and looked at both places, and I picked the one that I liked the best which also happened to not only have a spectacular view, a restaurant, a pool and wifi, but was $42 a night versus the $86 of the other recommendation that was not nearly as nice. Lesson learned.

I presented at a school in the town and my partner for this adventure was named Retisha! Another School Inspector that works with Diana. She is a jolly and fantastically vibrant soul who I loved immediately when I met her my 3rd day in Uganda. I was so very excited to meet her again and spend time with her. The school was a Catholic school and the sisters were wonderful souls to meet. (I really have no idea how they can be completely pressed and perfect looking at the end of a hot day, when I look like I rolled out of bed by then.)  The composed, peaceful and gentle demeanor of the sister who was Head of School was something I could aspire to be in a future incarnation.

As we were leaving, Retisha, Lionel and I stopped by a coffee farm so they could show me how coffee grows. Trees! Who knew! Then, they took me to a Pork Joint. So…. Pork Joints are a thing. The are a place not dissimilar to a pub style gathering place where people gather and eat skewers of chunks of pork. You can also buy butchered pork to take home. You buy it by the skewer and enjoy! Delish if you are a pig meat lover!

As the week closed, I gave a few more workshops… at a university, and at a school. I spent Sunday with Diana and her family where they showered me with gifts to remember Uganda by. One from each member of the family. They all dressed in traditional garb for the day and we took pictures together. It will be the last time I see the family as a whole. Bittersweet.

I closed the week by Lionel picking me up from Diana’s and taking me to the heart of the downtown market to shop, explore, and experience. Someone wanted to negotiate a price for me which brought on hysterical gales of laughter from Lionel and I, but other than that, the market was a beating heart of trade and commerce. Real prices, not Muzungu market prices, and even then, Lionel would talk them down more.

It is time now to grab every opportunity. Less than 2 weeks remain. I will share more in the Week 5 post on how we are accomplishing this. Stay tuned!

EPISODE 3

“40 cows.” We were driving the long drive back from the north and discussing traditions surrounding marriage among the various tribes.

“It depends on many variables. If the woman is educated, then she is worth more. The status of the families can alter the negotiations…”

I had asked, “OK, so if I were to marry into your tribe, how much would I be worth.”

“40 cows. And not just any cows. They must be healthy and strong, good cows.”

I have been pondering this discussion in my mind. The unique ways that cultures have negotiated marriages throughout history and across all landscapes to benefit the family, tribe, clan, or country.

I had never thought of myself as having a value in such tangible terms before, and to be honest, it is still mind boggling. Our conversation extended into the circumstances for women across the world and the relation of that to economics. We discussed the research behind how when women are educated, there is a direct economic benefit to the entire family and community in ways that are not directly correlated for men. My dear Ugandan friends are open-minded and educated people who have a clear sense of the world while navigating the balance of the cultures and traditions they are so deeply steeped in.

But let me turn back the clock a few days to Monday. My schedule had shifted, and I found myself with a free day. I decided to seize the moment to visit Jinja. Lionel (my favorite Uber driver, now friend) grew up there and knows the sites. Jinja is the location of the primary source of the Nile as it flows out of Lake Victoria into the White Nile. Over the course of 3 months, it joins the Blue Nile up near the Sudanese border and continues journeying north through South Sudan, Sudan, Egypt, and eventually the Mediterranean Sea.

My first longer foray into traveling occurred in 1996 immediately after graduating college where I spent a month in Egypt. Now, 27 years later, I stood on a float where the eager current desperately races out of Lake Victoria north. You can see the swirling waters. You can sense the release of its kinetic potential. My mind could imagine the pull to journey northward as the forces of nature follow their patterns regardless of the nearly oblivious humans finding their way despite us.

Later in the week, I had the opportunity to go along with one of the School Inspectors in a city just west of the capital. He is one of the most experienced inspectors with 20 years under his belt. But like so many of the very best educators I have been lucky enough to encounter in my life, he remains vibrant and passionate about his work and about children.

We visited 4 schools. 3 primary and 1 secondary. Their system works like this… Nursery has baby class (starting at 3 years old), middle and big class. This is included in all primary schools. Then, primary grades start with P1 (Primary 1) up to P7 (12-13 years old). They must pass a national exam in P7 to continue to Senior grades where they have S1 (Senior 1) through S4 where another exam must be passed to continue to S5-S6. There is a final exam there, then University.

In general, they teach with little. There is a chalkboard. They have some books to share. There are typically 80-100 kids in each grade, and they are all in one classroom. Absenteeism is high, especially among the older students as on days like Market days, they need to either go with the parents to market or stay with the little ones at home. Technically, school is free. But it is not free, and in fact the cost in reality is that the cost of attending school is one of the largest barriers to continuing education. Uniforms are required, school supplies, and sometimes other things like food from the family needs to be provided to the school.

Lunch is provided and often breakfast. Most schools offer boarding. As we toured the schools, we went into one school’s dorms for both boys and girls. They were locked as all students were supposed to be in class. As we opened the door to the boys dorm, there were at least 5-6 students in there. They were not in the sick bay, but were stating they were not feeling well. They were locked in so they could not let other students in. The school inspector I was with had some strong opinions he shared with the deputy teachers showing us around.

As we walked into one upper primary class (P4?), they were learning about colonialism. As the school inspector was questioning the students, they were naming off all the reasons that Europeans came into Africa with the transparency of fact.

“Cheap labor,” says one.

“Raw materials,” says another.

“Political gain…”

“Slaves…”

…and on and on. So much irrevocable damage. So much hubris.

Finally, one of the most interesting points is that Ugandan English is certainly a stand alone accent. As many may know, I am fascinated by language! As with British, Irish, Australian, American, and New Zealand accents (just to throw out a few), they have not only the pronunciation differences, but cadence, sentence construction, and word usage. I can certainly categorize Ugandan English in that list now that I have had some exposure. At the beginning of every workshop, I now mention that if my accent is difficult for the audience to be sure to speak up, and I will explain more, adjust and, of course, rely on Diana to assist with a recap in her Ugandan accent and style. Most words seem to shift the syllabic accent to rise on the last syllable. I still need to ask if this is perhaps a connection to some of the indigenous languages or not. There are several words that catch me off guard when used… not because the word is used incorrectly by definition, but because it is used differently from how we use it in American English. For example, the word “disturb”. “Why are you disturbing me?” Here, it lightly means bothering or annoying or disrupting, not the strong connotations that we have with it in American English. So many nuances!!

Finally, I will share that we traveled north for a workshop in Gulu. It is about 100 km (62ish miles) from the South Sudan border. (Remember that it is Sudan, NOT South Sudan that is in crisis at the moment). As we arrived at the presentation site, it was silent everywhere… the hall was not set, there were exposed wires in all sockets, and so on. I prepared to present low tech style by drawing out some of the key ideas on poster paper I brought, and taking photos of all the slides in my presentation, so I could share the information without my computer (which would die at some point). Within an hour, there were 75 people there, the power had been wired for a projector to be used, a screen hung and all proceeded… It was an incredible day with LOTS of great discussion. Much can be accomplished in due time. Muzungu time is just simply not necessary.

And so ends the snapshot of week 3. I am already 4 days past the midpoint of this trip with a packed schedule. Word is out, and we are having to turn people away now. There is just so little time.

Be well, friends.

EPISODE 2

“Headteacher, she will sing the American National Anthem after we sing ours.” Panic. Have I have ever even sung the national anthem by myself? Let alone in front of 60 people? 

“Well, it is a very difficult song,” I say.

“You can do it!” Diana says.

And two minutes later, I sang the anthem by myself in front of a yard full of primary students and the entire staff. There was nothing for it. I know I missed a few notes, but oh well. It was only recorded on video for posterity for the school. For them, this day was the first of its kind. Most of these children had never seen a white person in real life, and they wanted to touch my skin and hair and crowded around me full of smiles and fascination.

I taught a lesson to each of the classes. Just games and fun for the young ones, and an initial exposure to digital citizenship for the older classes. This was followed by tea with ritual hand washing and an incredible program that they had prepared for me complete with the aforementioned anthems (Ugandan, School, and American (wince)). I was then shown a Bugandan traditional dance. (As you may know for me, this was a highlight!) Then, they had prepared a hole for me to plant a banana tree in their garden to nourish the school for future years. All documented with photos and video. Wow.

I am honored continually (which, of course, from my perspective, I don’t deserve in any way). I have had the opportunity to visit several schools to work with children and have worked with over 200 teachers so far. Each school is different… In a different place professionally, technologically, and structurally. The realities of bureaucracy and educational innovation seem to resemble what we see in the states as far as the lengthy time that change takes and the often diluted reality of actualization and support on the ground. With Diana’s many connections, we have connected with a university here and will likely do some work with those training to be teachers acknowledging here what we see in the states of a misalignment between teacher preparation and the reality of the classroom, leaving new teachers woefully unprepared for the work.

As we drive around the city, Diana, Lionel (our amazing and favorite uber driver now friend, whose DJ father named him after Lionel Richie!) and I have wonderful chats about life here in Uganda and life in America. We talk about the issues people face and how though the scale may be vastly different (understatement) the issues are often the same. We talk about that some things are very much the same… people are people. Humans are humans. I hear them remark often, “Wow! I thought that in America there would not be such things.” I am not sure I am right to disillusion them, but honesty is called for as nothing is perfect anywhere. We often trade one difficulty for another. Here there is very little obesity and minimal technology. Americans are deeply connected to their devices, and we are dying from obesity.

Diana’s kids and Jya Jya (grandmother) came to visit me this afternoon, and I made “American” food for them. You can get a hamburger and fries here, so I had to think about what to make them… I ended up with my youngest son’s favorite - Mac n’ Cheese. I added cut up hot dogs in it as that is pretty typical of the USA. Of course, the supermarket doesn’t have exactly what I might normally use, but I made a reasonable example of it. The kids had never eaten cheese before. Ever. As a cheese lover, I was thinking of all the cheeses I love and imagining that loss to my diet. I gave them permission to not eat it if they didn’t like it. The 5-year old’s response, “This tastes bad!” Whelp… there ya go. Jya Jya and the 11 year old ate respectfully, but I don’t think they liked it either. They eat a LOT of starches here, but always including protein of some kind meat or beans and fresh greens. The food here is SO GOOD! There is so little that is preserved and the average Ugandan eats almost nothing that is prepackaged. Imagine that.

As the kids played some games, I chatted with Jya Jya. She told me stories of her life as a kid and the tribe her mother came from. She shared some changes she has seen in Uganda and how proud she is of her incredibly hard working daughter. Our discussion crossed over into working parents and finding care for their kids, a similarity shared across our experiences. We talked of her travels and mine and then the languages we speak. She taught me a few phrases in Lugandan (the primary Bantu language of central Uganda).

My schedule plans change frequently, but I think this week I will get to travel to the north and maybe get to see the largest waterfall in the world in a National Park on my way to train teachers in Gulu. As a final note here, I will put to rest any lingering concerns over the attack on a Ugandan school on the Congo border. That is around 8 hours from Kampala, and I am not heading near that region. As I shared in Episode 1, this is just a dose of the experiences I am having for I could not possibly capture it all, but I am ending week 2 and starting week 3… Time is flying.

EPISODE 1

Finding sleep a confusing jumble of numbers and hours, I get up to make myself a cup of tea. Despite that coffee is one of the largest exports of Uganda and some of the finest in the world, they don’t drink it themselves. So, tea it is… I look out over my balcony to an orange sunrise that is startling and only interrupted by various forms of trees including palm trees, always a sign of warmth and sunshine. They call this place the Pearl of Africa, and for good reason. The sunrise was stunning and the doors to my 3rd floor balcony are only enclosed by a screen that lets in the light breeze at all hours.

The weather here is wonderful… between the low 60s and low 80s everyday. Sunny with clouds that roll through and a brief rainstorm almost daily that last maybe 30 minutes at the most. It freshens the air and keeps the dust down. I have been soaking it in to say the least.

I have been busy very nearly every moment with work or adventures. Presenting workshops and visiting schools has been the primary focus, but I have managed to visit the national museum and zoo. The zoo lies on Lake Victoria, a breathtaking and daunting body of water.

My work with the administrators and teachers has been extremely rewarding. The previous two Fulbrights had been here doing work connected to the new curriculum and assessments rolled out by the government here. My work continues their path with a very heavy focus on project based learning and technology integration that features basic skills with Google Drive and Google Apps. Our conversations have been deep and rewarding. Like all educators, the Ugandans are deeply invested in their work and are on a mission of continual growth and improvement. The project in reality has manifested quite differently than the original description, which I am lucky enough to have the expertise to provide.

My counterpart and complete superhuman, Diana, is such an incredible partner in this venture. It has been her. All her. Leading this cause to have a Fulbright come and share and work with teachers. She is a school inspector for the northern region of Uganda and an incredibly knowledgeable practitioner. She has pursued the creation of the schedule for my work with dogged diligence and often without support. She is ambitious and brave, dedicated and clever to say the least. She has welcomed me into her world and her family where I spent yesterday celebrating the birthday of her older son and eating phenomenal african food.

Ahhhh food… Always the highlight of travel and adventure! Traditional Ugandan food centers around bananas. They are everywhere and eaten daily. Matoke (pronounced ma-toe-kay) is the national dish. It is bananas steamed in banana leaves for several hours (the longer the sweeter) then served with rice and soup generally based in a meat source like beef or chicken, but goat, rabbit, fish and other options pop up. It is all wonderfully delicious! I was shown yesterday how Matoke is made and will get to make it with them in the coming weeks.

There are far too many cultural things to capture, but a few that stand out for me is the politeness of the people. Always “you are welcome” is said as you enter a place along with heartfelt greetings. English is the language taught in school here, so for those who have had some schooling, there is some level of acquisition of the language. My American accent can be difficult for them. Diana and I have taken to presenting in tandem with me delivering the initial content and her doing a recap and providing relevant local examples. It is certainly powerful for me to hear the way that she captures ideas and what examples she shares. There are well over 50 languages spoken in the country, and each tribe may have a variation of a more dominant language. As Kampala (like so many bustling cities) is an amalgamation of people from all over the country English is the common language or Lugandan which is the original language from the region. Between the two, people find some level of understanding in their communications, though it is clear that communication is something that is worked hard at and sometimes does not come easily as there is no assumption of a common culture, tongue or way of thinking. They all have this politeness in the way that they communicate though as an underlying layer.

There are different layers of history that come out in conversations and observations. Visiting the national museum, certainly the ravages of colonialism stare back at you from every glass case and interpretive sign. There is an ever present layer of white privilege in nearly every interaction that is more than being an American that is expected to have wealth and opportunity. Here I am mzungu or white person. But there is so very much more to that. I am so grateful and humbled before the perspectives shared through deep conversation and the observations that I am continuing to make. For that, my interactions with the Ugandan people are full of joy, interest, truly welcoming and bound in mutual respect.

I could perhaps go on for days, but I will draw things to a close here. It is the start of week 2 in this journey. I have a week full of presenting and visiting schools ahead of me, but today I had a day off and am going exploring shortly! What a lucky girl I am…