No Cars Go

We know a place where no planes go

We know a place where no ships go



(Hey!) No cars go

(Hey!) No cars go

Where we know



We know a place no space ships go

We know a place where no subs go



(Hey!) No cars go

(Hey!) No cars go

Where we know



(Hey!)
(Hey!)
(Go... Now go!)



(Hey!) Us kids know

(Hey!) No cars go

Where we know



Between the click of the light and the start of the dream

Between the click of the light and the start of the dream

Between the click of the light and the start of the dream

Between the click of the light and the start of the dream



Little babies, let's go

Women and children, let's go

Old folks, let's go

Don't know where we're goin'
But, let’s go…

From the Lives of Children

I thought I would write one of my last posts the same way I did one of my first, with a description of the children. It has been impossible to put into words all that these children are and part of me feels it is something that can only be truly shared by those who have been here, those, like myself, who have had a glimpse of their joy, caring, and innocence.

So, I will let the pictures speak as I bounce around to different topics. Here are children imagining, well, can you guess?







Sometimes I never know with them what I am getting myself into. I still remember a very strange song from one of my first weeks here…


I still can’t figure out this game that Kato and Segawa always play.



If you remember, I asked for input about games for the kids a month in. They love dominoes, memory, and, most recently, checkers. However, the biggest hit has been simply coloring and drawing (I should have figured that out earlier!) Here are the kids at one of their mass gatherings.



Here is the artist formerly known as Job. Notice the three-dimensional door and what is most likely the largest pig in the world.



A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon a group of the younger children “hiding” around the corner of their home. The guilty look that Esther gives me here translates into all languages. They were hoarding some fruit that they found and were meticulously counting each berry out as to divide the spoils.



Last week, I heard an uproar as I was working on something in the guest house. Five minutes later I went outside to see what the excitement was about. There was no one, not one African child anywhere in sight. This was strange as it was well after school. I did hear noises, though, and followed them behind the cooking hut. I ran into this scene.



All the children were given sugar cane to eat. I still can’t figure out how they can stand it. It is pure sugar concentrate that they suck on. Have I ever mentioned that it would be good to have another dental team come?

I realize now I never posted about the zoo. We were able to take the older children a couple of months back due to a generous donation that was given. Thank you. Both the children and I will never forget those two days. Some of the kids had never been out of this town and others had never been in a van. They all saw animals they had never seen before and the highlight, unanimously, was the chimpanzees. I also have a story about risking crocodiles to see ostriches but I will leave it at that so to not risk looking like a bad chaperone…






The children have different work projects around the property (many of which seem to be right outside my window early in the morning). They hoe, plant food, clean their homes, help with meals, and wash clothes. Despite all this, they are willing to help with extra projects as Brian and Segewa (“Boy”) demonstrate here.



On top of all these things, the children love to sing and dance. Almost every time I visit the homes before bed they perform for me. Every Saturday you can find most of them practicing in the shade of a large tree for church the next day. Here is a video of them practice (I hope it works!):


The final result…




A couple of children’s stories…

Amos, the groundskeeper here, is newly married and has a small baby. He just moved to the property here and it is great as he is closer and no longer has to pay rent. However, relatives heard about this and his sister sent one of her sons to live with him despite the fact that he is in a one room home!

When he arrived, the boy was malnourished and had a large chip on his shoulder. I saw quickly, though, how a loving family and a bit of discipline can change a child. He is now one of my favorite kids here (keep in mind, my favorites seem to change every week) and always has a smile on his face. You can find him either digging in the field, carrying water, or playing with Geoffrey’s kids. His name is Alex.




I saw him wearing this the other day and mentioned to Amos that there are some extra clothes that he could have. Things were lost in translation and two minutes later Alex came out strutting, wearing Dora the Explorer pants and a sweatshirt with a roller hockey player on it. I have nicknamed him “Hockey” ever since.



Just before I arrived, a small child was brought here to the property. I later discovered that he was rescued from a step-mother who was using him as collateral to get money from his father, who had left her. The boy was in rough shape and was said to be HIV-positive. He was withdrawn and emotionless the first time I met him.

It has been a wild four months, to say the least, and I have seen him change slowly. He is still unsure in some situations but he is smiling, talking, and the other day I experienced him taking his first steps, something I wanted to see before I left.

So, anyways, the great news. They took him to the hospital the other day and they ran some new tests. Based on what they are saying now, he is actually HIV-negative. As they say here, Praise God. His name is Zawa, but the kids soon after arrival renamed him Mukisa, which means blessed.






More to come…

Girl in the War

Peter said to Paul: You know all those words we wrote?
Just the rules of the game, and the rules are the first to go
Now talking to God is Laurel begging Hardy for a gun
Got a girl in the war, man I wonder what it is we've done

Paul said to Peter: You gotta rock yourself a little harder
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire
Got a girl in the war, son the only thing I know to do
Turn up the music and pray that she makes it through

Because the keys to the kingdom seem locked inside the kingdom
And the angels fly around in there, but we can't see them
Got a girl in the war, Paul I know they can hear me yell
If they can't find a way to help her, they can go to hell


Paul said to Peter: You gotta rock yourself a little harder
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire
Got a girl in the war, Paul her eyes are like champagne
They sparkle, bubble over, and in the morning all you've got is rain


-Josh Ritter

The Neighborhood II & III

Everyone around here seems connected in one way or another. I am constantly surprised when I find out who are related. This is Isaiah.



His grandfather is William, who I wrote about in a previous post, and his sister is Harriet, one of the girls here who is HIV positive. He lives just down the hill from me and has always been so great to me when I go visit. To him, I am always “Brother Shaun”.

He is newly married and works odd jobs in the community, whether it be making bricks, growing crops or helping with building projects. The last time I visited, he took me to the “magical” giant tree I kept asking him about by his house. Here it is.


It is also where everyone in the community gets their water. While we were there, there were children coming and going. For some reason, this moment hit me harder than anything the past few weeks. It struck me even more when I realized how difficult it was to trek the full jerry cans back up to his house.



Here is a family from the church. They are David, Ruth, and the 6 D’s kids. They remind me of the Vantrapp family as they are all extremely musical. The last time I went over for lunch, the children put on a dance number for me and David played the guitar. They then proceeded to ask me to sing, for some reason believing that all mzungus are good singers. I didn’t belt out a tune but I did bring a coco plant to share as you can see on the table.



I am trying really hard with Dustin, their youngest, as he is completely terrified of me. The other day I was visiting and I guess he didn’t see me come in. When he came around the corner to see his mom, he literally fell over when he saw me and crawled out of the room as fast as he could.


This is Vincent, a favorite of almost anyone who has come here from Canada. He is 85 but it doesn’t show. He is full of life and has actually taken to learning some English. You can hear him almost everyday working down at the quarry below where I am living. Here is a shot of him breaking up rock after he has hauled it up.




Last Sunday, Vincent brought all the grandchildren on stage during the church service to celebrate the return of his oldest grandson. Though translation, it seemed to be some kind of prodigal son moment and everyone cheered as he was introduced. The two smallest, Immaculate and Cissy (C.C.), are girls here at the children’s home. Vincent, at his age, cannot take care of all of them so thankfully they were selected a couple of years ago.

When I got here, I was immediately drawn to these two sisters simply by their love for life. Immaculate is at the older girls home and is the actress of the bunch. Her mzungu impersonation is always hilarious. Here is a shot that someone took of her (on the left) laughing with Joyce and Rachel.




Cissy, the youngest, on the other hand, is shy and I had to scroll almost back to my first week here to find a shot of her. Though reserved, I guarantee if you met her she would make you smile.



A Couple of Stories:



Jeff tells our elephant safari story pretty well.



On Sunday, I went down to the Masembe’s (the Ugandan family who started this whole project) house to visit. I am always happy to go down the hill as there is always something new going on. This Sunday there were half a dozen kids separating strands of used paper. When I asked, they told me they were making paper that they could use to sell as cards or for school. “Hmm,” I thought, “making your own paper.” Imagine if we made kids in Canada do the same before every term!

Anyways, one of the reasons that there always seems to be at least 15-20 people at the Masembe’s is that they are the only people in the area with power and a television. This Sunday was no expectation and Michael (the father) wanted me to join them in watching a movie. He gave me two choices, both from 1994, and I chose Accidental Twins simply because of the name. It didn’t have Devito or Schwarzenegger but I soon realized it was, literally, an educational film. I can’t imagine in Canada going to the video store on a Friday night and asking what new movies they had on planned parenting. But, hey, Michael assured me it was one of his favorites.

It was a local film and the unintentional comedy was through the roof, including the lines, “I am poor, besides, paying five cows for your daughter is against my religion”, “If you talk to me again I’ll kick you” and “I’ll tell you what I told the last five women that came to me looking for money, I’m not the father.”

I thought this couldn’t be topped. However, when Michael switched off the movie, on the television was a game show that tested how well couples knew each other. That was fine except it was sponsored by “A Good Life”, a Ugandan organization that promotes healthy living. That meant that there was a round about STD’s and the final challenge consisted of questions about condoms and spinning a wheel to win prizes including a mattress, mosquito net, and a jerry can. You just can’t make this stuff up.


More to come…

Plastic Bags

That’s all they wanted, a dozen stupid plastic bags. Yesterday, I was excited as we were giving out shirts and sandals sent from Canada to the kids here. It doesn’t seem like much but you know the cliché. Anyways, they were all excited as we somehow managed to hand out everything without getting trampled. The kids were all very thankful and polite as they looked over their new stuff.

As we were finishing up, Laurence came up to me and asked if he could have the two ripped plastic bags I had in my hand. I gave them to him, wondering what he was up to. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by the rest of the older boys asking if I had more. I assured them that I did back in the guest house and felt like the pied piper as I led them across the property. I grabbed a dozen, stored up from the last few shopping trips, and handed them out. I overheard one of the boys say esomero (school) when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

None of these boys had school packs. A few of the kids do and carry others’ supplies, but for the most part everyone just hopes it doesn’t rain. So, when I gave them the bags, they were ecstatic, unexpectedly more so than when they got the clothes. However, there was one boy, Frank, the youngest, who was visibly distraught. I asked Laurence what was the matter. He showed me where Frank’s bag was torn, right on the handle. I went back inside, found another, and saw Frank’s face light up as I gave him this new prize.

As soon as they were all satisfied, they ran off waiving their bags victoriously in the air. I was only able to snap one pick to remind myself the surreal scene that just took place. A dozen used plastic bags, that’s all they needed.





More to come...

Canadian Family Dycks

I had the privilege of going to visit a family from my home church that spent four months here in mpigi and are now spending three years at a large school/medical/community planning center in another district of the country. It was a privilege as it gave me time to talk with those who have shared this experience and, frankly, gave me some time to recharge. Jeff is the kind of guy that I can sit down and have a beer with, Shannon is very kind and a great cook, and their four kids are full of life but each in a unique way.

Here is Jeff with Kato (from Mpigi):



Here is Shan with Christine (from Mpigi) and their new daughter in the background:


Here is Shan with the kids at their home:



So, I traveled to their home last week, which involved three “taxi” transfers, chickens tied underfoot, and no English until Jeff picked me up halfway. Oh, I also experienced my first bone dry engine breakdown. Jeff had borrowed a truck that, I guess, the owner had not checked the coolant of in a long time. So, that was interesting.

The Dycks live at what I can only describe as a large compound. As I mentioned, it is a school for over 800 sponsored children, a trade school, a large medical clinic, and a community services center which includes a micro loan program. They are a bit more developed than here in mpigi and I was able to relax with hot water!, a freezer with food, and wireless internet. I apologize as I didn’t take many pics…



A couple of stories:

Jeff loves football and has played since he was young. He is in charge of all the building projects and, therefore, was invited to play on the builder’s football team. (That and he buys all the biscuits and drinks) When I was there they had a game against the teachers.

This is a big rivalry as Jeff explained to me that last game the teachers walked off the field because they felt the builders were putting a new player on the field who was a ringer (which he wasn’t). In response, after the referee settled the teachers down, the builders themselves walked off the field in protest. All over a friendly game, I love it!

So, normally I would root for the teachers except that the builders are considered the lesser class, the untrustworthy, the “bad guys”. This was apparent at the game as most of the 200 people watching were rooting for the teachers. So, I ended up rooting for the builders and, thanks to Jeff’s two goals, they won 3-0. Did I mention some players on their team don’t have shoes? It was a great night as all of us were laughing and having a good time.

Can you spot Jeff?

The second day I was there I was sitting under a tree reading when an older mzunugu man came running up shouting that there is a large fire and the bees are in danger of being destroyed. The bees? And you are who to order me to fight your forest fire?

Luckily, Jeff came over when he heard the commotion and explained, as he handed me a broomstick, that there was brushfire and the man had sponsored a honey project a couple of years back. He said I was welcome to relax as there were other people already on their way. “No way,” I told him, “count me in.”

So we were off. Yes, there was a fire. And, yes, it was spreading. But, fortunately, it was almost out when we got there. And the brooms? I cannot stress this enough. Don’t try to fight a fire with a broom, especially just a broom handle. After the excitement, we had to laugh as we did see people breaking branches off of trees as they were heading towards the blaze but were too ignorant with our "tools". The branches worked much better.

What else did I learn as an ignorant mzunugu? Don’t fight fire while standing downwind. Also, trust your gut when another mzunugu comes running to you in a panic. The fire was at least a kilometer away from his prized bees.

Oh, Blog It...

Motorcycle Ride to Town...Still Alive
Waiting For The Internet To Work...Commonplace
The Power Going Out While Waiting...Frustating
Realizing You Forgot To Load Your Post on Your Memory Stick...Rrrggg

Only three weeks left, I can't believe it. Would love to hear from you. I know from conversations that people are reading the blog but, if you could, leave a comment to remind me I'm not just writing to myself!

It's been one of those days..