12/31/08
I did laundry again this morning! I find that I do a better job if I do small amounts at a time so I think tomorrow morning’s washing should allow me to reach the end of my trip with “clean” clothing. I came to BCC at 8:30am, took a boda motorcycle from Anne’s house for only 3000 UGX. Usually I take a bicycle into town first for 300 UGX, then a motorcycle for 2500 UGX from town to BCC. I figured the extra 200 UGX was a worthwhile investment, and the driver was safe and talkative. Mom and dad, I know this won’t make you happy, but at some point in my life I will likely own a motorcycle. There is just this un-matched art involved with finding the perfect spot for your two aligned wheels, avoiding potholes and feeling fast a powerful when you ride a motorcycle that I think I will be too tempted to avoid for my whole life. We went on rounds when I got here and saw nothing which seemed too unusual to me at this point. Ah, just lost power. Computer is dying. I’ll finish later.
Sorry about that. Welcome to Uganda. So the ward was packed today, with three of the beds housing two people each. The extremely malnourished child is as sick today as he was yesterday but is being transferred (that means carried by his mother on the back of a motorcycle) to Mbale Main Hospital. Hopefully they can save his life there. It looks like he has a long road ahead of him in order to regain a healthy life. There were the numerous more patients with malaria, babies, adolescents, and adults. The woman with the jiggers seems a bit better but, now that she has more energy, she walking around outside naked scratching her body. The isolation ward, which was just being used as an overflow area today, smelled like urine, due to the lack of ventilation and the overcrowding of infant patients inside. After rounds, I went to the lab and observed a MPS malaria blood test. Thomas, the lab technician, has a manual centrifuge (I have a picture), a microscope, a few reagents, a sink, and a makeshift drying rack, constructed of two wooden planks on top of which lies a metal box with a light bulb inside. Place the slide under the light bulb, allow the air inside the box to heat up, and wait for the blood to dry. Desperate, ridiculous, but efficient. He showed me a positive and negative TB test; I saw the red-dyed bacilli sitting there in the patient’s blue-dyed sputum. This TB patient has + + + TB, with between 400-4,000 bacilli in at least 50 microscopic regions of sputum. The only worse condition is + + + +, which is much more difficult to treat, the victim having 4,000-40,000 bacilli in at least 20 microscopic regions of sputum. He showed me an HIV quick-test, a pregnancy test (not the disposable at-home ones here), and the rest of the 12 lab tests that they have the most primitive equipment to conduct here (urine pH, stool). Fascinating but frustrating at the same time. Then I did some work on the Assurance Scheme and grants, went on rounds again when Dr. Wafula arrived (stayed out of the isolation ward this time), and finally met Paul Tiboti, a good friend of Maital, who invited me to his home tomorrow afternoon for a new year’s celebration. I ate lunch with Julliet, something called posho, a mash of maize and water. Tasteless but the topping was meat and I just ate the dry grain plain. I confirmed my flight for next week and then left early because we lost power again and hadn’t gained it back, meaning all the work I was doing on the desktop computer at the clinic had to wait. So I took a boda home, Americanized (changed into shorts and a t-shirt), and took my computer to the resort hotel to work here. On my way (I walked!), I met an officer of the UWA, the Ugandan Wildlife Agency, who patrols the Mount Elgon National Park, the home of that gorgeous mountain I see everyday. He was excited to meet an American and we spoke for a while, somehow reaching the topic of circumcision. I got to whip out the word Yudaya to tell him I was Jewish which was on the exciting side. The internet was down at the resort so I sat by the pool for an hour, met some Swiss people, then walked back home. I took a nap (accidentally), had dinner which was rice, cabbage, beans, and homemade fries, and then watched a movie. New Year’s is more of a religious event than a party scene here so everyone goes to church. There are apparently candleworks (fireworks) over Mt. Elgon that are best seen from the back of the hotel next door so I might head over there around midnight with Matthew. Tomorrow morning I will probably head to the market to buy some food-gift for Paul and his family. Then work hard, as my time here is almost up! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Wish I could be home to celebrate!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Day 14
12/30/08
I was very productive today! I woke up at 6am and did my laundry. It was still a disaster but I think there is less soap left in my clothes than there was last time. I then shaved (first time in Africa! I was getting a beard tan-line) and showered and took my time with breakfast. I said goodbye to Anne who is heading to Kampala until Thursday. Then I took a bicycle boda into town and was passed by two vans of the muzungus from this weekend who were heading into town as well. They waved hi and I finally felt like a native, riding on the back of a bicycle while a van of privately-chauffeured muzungus passed by. I exchanged some money at the bank (rate was down to 1830 UGX per dollar) and then bought two DVDs to back up my photos. Then I turned down 3 boda motorcycles who wanted too much money (I told you I’m a native!) and finally agreed to 2500 UGX with one to take me to Bushikori. I got here at 9:30am and we went on rounds. The wards were packed, since people didn’t want to come in over Christmas and, as sick as they or their child were, waited until yesterday to seek help. Rounds were tough today. I saw at least 5 children under 2 years old who were severely malnourished (the best case being just half of the “safe” weight at that age) and this time I took pictures because it is something that will effect even the medically-unstimulated (that’s my term) at home. The children were born to mothers married to men with no jobs and several wives, and these women laughed at the mention of family-planning. They can’t afford to feed themselves, let alone 7 children. We moved from bed to bed, reviewing each patient and each of their situations seemed to be more desperate than the last. I was tempted to use the rest of the charity-money I brought to buy plumpy-nut, a mix of peanut butter, milk, butter, and sugar and what the WHO distributed to refugee camps around the world. But I realized that that just wouldn’t help these people. I would feed the child today and what about tomorrow. The helplessness I felt, standing there looking at a 14 mo/old baby with skin that looked like it belonged to a 70 y/o, was one I don’t really wish to ever experience again. The only way I was able to turn my back literally was to do it figuratively – to just accept that I can’t do anything and to approach the problems we could solve instead. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you my most recent source of motivation to become a doc. I could go on for pages about how I wish I could do something about it, today. I’ve seen pictures before but the child was never sitting there in front of me, too weak to open his eyes and withering away by the minute. I became incredibly nauseous, not because of the medical aspects, but because of the socio-economic and cultural ones. These mothers couldn’t feed they’re babies. And that was just that for them. I felt angry and sorry at the same time.
There was one woman who was eaten by what they call “jiggers” here, scientifically known as Tungiasis penetrans. I took pictures of this too. Her skin was just eaten away in places, leaving pink patches all over her arms. The bottoms of her feet looked like slabs of wood with empty nail holes in them. The woman lives with her brother, a consequence of her children abandoning her because she drinks too much and becomes “slutty.” The rest of the patients had the “usual” illnesses – malaria, pneumonia, titis externia.
After rounds I went to watch the immunization program. Women brought their babies to one of the buildings here and one by one, the children were given an array of polio vaccine, DPT, BCG. The sat on the ground outside, babies naked and wrapped in a towel, in the same fashion with which they brought them on the back of a boda motorcycle. The women nursed the children to keep them calm as the nurses here filled out their vaccination forms and administered the immunizations. Babies were weighed by being hung in a sac from a grocery scale, the kind you see in the produce section in supermarkets in the States, which was hung from a wooden beam outside the vaccination building. One baby had albinism and at the young age just looked white, not yet expressing the red blotches and white hair. After watching this for a bit, I had lunch with Levert, rice and cabbage which was delicious, and then came back to the office and worked on the Assurance Scheme and grant a bit more. Jen came by to say hi on her way back from the Abayudaya, then went to hang out with Levert in town. At 4:45pm, I took a boda motorcycle to town with Linus, one of the administrators at Bushikori. On the way to town on Mbale-Tororo Rd., we had to pass through a big crowd of people spanning the road from end to end and extending about half of a mile ahead. It was some dancing, chanting crowd traditionally celebrating the end of the year. People were dancing, screaming. They seemed drunk but who knows. As we literally split the crowd open with our motorcycle, I heard the word muzungu more times than ever before. This time I really felt like a zoo animal as people reached out their hands to touch me. When I finally got to town, I grabbed a bar of Ugandan chocolate and bought some art. Then I took a boda motorcycle home. As we left town it started to rain, and I finally got to experience what it felt like to ride into falling water at 40mph or so. That ride was a bit scary, with the wheels of the motorcycle skidding in the wet sand, but I got home and had some dinner with Matthew – rice, peas, homemade salsa and mango. Now I’m finishing this up as we watch some cheesy English-dubbed Spanish soap opera. One week from now I’ll be sitting at the Entebbe airport waiting for my plane. Time flies. Stay tuned!
I was very productive today! I woke up at 6am and did my laundry. It was still a disaster but I think there is less soap left in my clothes than there was last time. I then shaved (first time in Africa! I was getting a beard tan-line) and showered and took my time with breakfast. I said goodbye to Anne who is heading to Kampala until Thursday. Then I took a bicycle boda into town and was passed by two vans of the muzungus from this weekend who were heading into town as well. They waved hi and I finally felt like a native, riding on the back of a bicycle while a van of privately-chauffeured muzungus passed by. I exchanged some money at the bank (rate was down to 1830 UGX per dollar) and then bought two DVDs to back up my photos. Then I turned down 3 boda motorcycles who wanted too much money (I told you I’m a native!) and finally agreed to 2500 UGX with one to take me to Bushikori. I got here at 9:30am and we went on rounds. The wards were packed, since people didn’t want to come in over Christmas and, as sick as they or their child were, waited until yesterday to seek help. Rounds were tough today. I saw at least 5 children under 2 years old who were severely malnourished (the best case being just half of the “safe” weight at that age) and this time I took pictures because it is something that will effect even the medically-unstimulated (that’s my term) at home. The children were born to mothers married to men with no jobs and several wives, and these women laughed at the mention of family-planning. They can’t afford to feed themselves, let alone 7 children. We moved from bed to bed, reviewing each patient and each of their situations seemed to be more desperate than the last. I was tempted to use the rest of the charity-money I brought to buy plumpy-nut, a mix of peanut butter, milk, butter, and sugar and what the WHO distributed to refugee camps around the world. But I realized that that just wouldn’t help these people. I would feed the child today and what about tomorrow. The helplessness I felt, standing there looking at a 14 mo/old baby with skin that looked like it belonged to a 70 y/o, was one I don’t really wish to ever experience again. The only way I was able to turn my back literally was to do it figuratively – to just accept that I can’t do anything and to approach the problems we could solve instead. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you my most recent source of motivation to become a doc. I could go on for pages about how I wish I could do something about it, today. I’ve seen pictures before but the child was never sitting there in front of me, too weak to open his eyes and withering away by the minute. I became incredibly nauseous, not because of the medical aspects, but because of the socio-economic and cultural ones. These mothers couldn’t feed they’re babies. And that was just that for them. I felt angry and sorry at the same time.
There was one woman who was eaten by what they call “jiggers” here, scientifically known as Tungiasis penetrans. I took pictures of this too. Her skin was just eaten away in places, leaving pink patches all over her arms. The bottoms of her feet looked like slabs of wood with empty nail holes in them. The woman lives with her brother, a consequence of her children abandoning her because she drinks too much and becomes “slutty.” The rest of the patients had the “usual” illnesses – malaria, pneumonia, titis externia.
After rounds I went to watch the immunization program. Women brought their babies to one of the buildings here and one by one, the children were given an array of polio vaccine, DPT, BCG. The sat on the ground outside, babies naked and wrapped in a towel, in the same fashion with which they brought them on the back of a boda motorcycle. The women nursed the children to keep them calm as the nurses here filled out their vaccination forms and administered the immunizations. Babies were weighed by being hung in a sac from a grocery scale, the kind you see in the produce section in supermarkets in the States, which was hung from a wooden beam outside the vaccination building. One baby had albinism and at the young age just looked white, not yet expressing the red blotches and white hair. After watching this for a bit, I had lunch with Levert, rice and cabbage which was delicious, and then came back to the office and worked on the Assurance Scheme and grant a bit more. Jen came by to say hi on her way back from the Abayudaya, then went to hang out with Levert in town. At 4:45pm, I took a boda motorcycle to town with Linus, one of the administrators at Bushikori. On the way to town on Mbale-Tororo Rd., we had to pass through a big crowd of people spanning the road from end to end and extending about half of a mile ahead. It was some dancing, chanting crowd traditionally celebrating the end of the year. People were dancing, screaming. They seemed drunk but who knows. As we literally split the crowd open with our motorcycle, I heard the word muzungu more times than ever before. This time I really felt like a zoo animal as people reached out their hands to touch me. When I finally got to town, I grabbed a bar of Ugandan chocolate and bought some art. Then I took a boda motorcycle home. As we left town it started to rain, and I finally got to experience what it felt like to ride into falling water at 40mph or so. That ride was a bit scary, with the wheels of the motorcycle skidding in the wet sand, but I got home and had some dinner with Matthew – rice, peas, homemade salsa and mango. Now I’m finishing this up as we watch some cheesy English-dubbed Spanish soap opera. One week from now I’ll be sitting at the Entebbe airport waiting for my plane. Time flies. Stay tuned!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Day 13
12/29/08
Today was relatively uneventful. I came to the clinic at around 8:30am, and worked the whole day through. When Maital was here, she and the Dokta set up an Assurance Scheme, accounts in which patients could deposit money each month in order to ensure that they could pay for services when needed. In order to promote the program, I set up a bonus campaign with most of the money collected from the nicest people at Brandeis (and my parents, my favorite ones, of course). First of all, thank you to everyone who contributed; your money, which I promised would go directly toward saving lives, is doing just that, while at the same time teaching people money and family-health management. Job well done to you all. We offered a bonus of 3500 UGX to everyone enrolled in the program and actively contributing to their account, which seems like nothing (it is about $1.80), but when the monthly deposit requirement to remain active is 1000 UGX, or $0.50, this contribution is pretty damn significant. I think it will do a lot to make people more comfortable coming for care even if they fear they cannot afford it and encourage people to continue to participate in the program. We also set aside a certain amount to match the first monthly deposit of the next 100+ patients to enroll in the program. I drafted a letter that is being given to every participant, informing them of the good fortune you all brought upon them and encouraging them to urge their friends and family to enroll in the program. So once again, thank you all. I then took a ride back to town on the back of the Dokta’s motorcycle and now I’m at the internet café to post this. Unfortunately, for the last time, Happy Chanukah, and if the internet doesn’t work, Happy New Year. Keep emailing and commenting! Miss everyone and I will be on my journey back to the airport this time next week, with a day to kill in Kampala with Jen in between. Can't wait to come home; don't want to leave here. Sounds like life.
Today was relatively uneventful. I came to the clinic at around 8:30am, and worked the whole day through. When Maital was here, she and the Dokta set up an Assurance Scheme, accounts in which patients could deposit money each month in order to ensure that they could pay for services when needed. In order to promote the program, I set up a bonus campaign with most of the money collected from the nicest people at Brandeis (and my parents, my favorite ones, of course). First of all, thank you to everyone who contributed; your money, which I promised would go directly toward saving lives, is doing just that, while at the same time teaching people money and family-health management. Job well done to you all. We offered a bonus of 3500 UGX to everyone enrolled in the program and actively contributing to their account, which seems like nothing (it is about $1.80), but when the monthly deposit requirement to remain active is 1000 UGX, or $0.50, this contribution is pretty damn significant. I think it will do a lot to make people more comfortable coming for care even if they fear they cannot afford it and encourage people to continue to participate in the program. We also set aside a certain amount to match the first monthly deposit of the next 100+ patients to enroll in the program. I drafted a letter that is being given to every participant, informing them of the good fortune you all brought upon them and encouraging them to urge their friends and family to enroll in the program. So once again, thank you all. I then took a ride back to town on the back of the Dokta’s motorcycle and now I’m at the internet café to post this. Unfortunately, for the last time, Happy Chanukah, and if the internet doesn’t work, Happy New Year. Keep emailing and commenting! Miss everyone and I will be on my journey back to the airport this time next week, with a day to kill in Kampala with Jen in between. Can't wait to come home; don't want to leave here. Sounds like life.
Day 12
12/28/08
It is now noon on Monday. Yesterday was unreal. I woke up at around 7:30am, had a small breakfast consisting of a banana and tea. Then I caught a ride into town in the van with Anne and her family on their way to church. It was already 8:45am and the weddings were supposed to begin at 9am, so I quickly found a boda motorcycle and took a bumpy ride to Nabugoya Hill and the Abayudaya.
I arrived a couple of minutes after 9am and walked down to the guesthouse. I sat for a few minutes with the muzungus and then we all made our way to the grassy area right outside the synagogue. None of the brides nor any grooms had found their way to the place yet so, working on African/Jewish time again, we waited. Men who were related to the wedding parties were dressed in an array of occasion-clothing, from suits to sportcoats to business-casual wear. Guests wore regular every-day clothing. Women dressed in colorful dresses with pinched shoulders, apparently a “peacock-style” dress that is customarily worn as such joyous occasions. The women entered the synagogue making these sounds that I can only describe as…African. It is a high-pitched version of the sounds one makes when patting the opening of the mouth while screaming a solid note. But their hands were nowhere near their mouths; they were up in the air leading the way for the women’s spins and hops as they made their way toward the front of the synagogue. African and Abayudaya music was played on speakers and the scene that was forming as we took our seats in the synagogue at around 9:30am was an informal one, and I became excited for a loud, fun, African wedding.
At around 12:00pm the first couple made their appearance. Rabbi Gershom announced that they had arrived, which was unnecessary because it was obvious due to the sounds made by the women outside the synagogue who were awaiting their arrival. The man entered the synagogue first, surrounded by an entourage of people to the point where it was difficult to pick out the groom. Nobody wore matching colors or suits and everybody just stormed the scene to the point at which it was completely impossible for me to have any clue as to what was going on until one man was left standing under the chuppah…I tagged him as the groom. Then the woman entered in a black and white dress, her hair stylishly arranged. Several older women and even more younger ones danced her down the aisle, making those high-pitched la-la-la sounds the whole way down. They reached the chuppah and the entourage crowded the couple’s space right outside the chuppah. The couple faced the crowd, staring straight ahead without making eye contact with anyone and never revealing a smile. The rabbi said a blessing on a cup of wine and the groom drank a bit before bringing the cup to his bride’s mouth. The rabbi then handed the groom a ring and recited the words “Harei At Mekudeshet Li, B’Taba’at Zu, K’Hilchot Moshe V’Yisrael,” “Behold you become sanctified to me, by way of this ring, according to the laws of Moses and Israel.” The groom repeated the statement to his bride, and then the rabbi handed the her a ring and she performed the same ritual, changing the words that relate to a female to those which relate to a male. The women made their sounds once again and jumped up and down in excitement. Rabbi Gershom and the two visiting rabbis then recited the first six of the seven blessings made over another cup of wine. Before the last blessing, the bride and groom were wrapped in a tallit, a prayer shawl. At this point they faced eachother and looked into each other’s eyes until the end of the ceremony. The rabbi recited the final blessing and the crowd went wild. The music blasted through the synagogue and the bride and groom were danced out of the building and down to the guesthouse.
The rabbi then suggested that, in order to fit everyone and in hopes of a cooler setting, we move to the front of the guesthouse where three tents had been erected. The crowd made their way down, each person carrying their chair from the synagogue with them. Younger people carried two chairs, the elders carried none. When everyone had settled in under the tents, the next bride and groom were driven down the rocky path in a jeep. Another entourage (I can’t swear it was made up of different people…too many colors) came rushing down the hill surrounding the jeep, singing, dancing, and making that noise. This time, there was an equal amount of men as there were women. The bride a groom made their way to the chuppah, this couple smiling the entire way, and the rest of the wedding proceeded similarly to the first. The final wedding, not to take away from its significance, was a repeat, although it seemed to be the youngest couple with the most enthusiastic friends, unless it was just the point where everyone accepted how sweaty we were and didn’t care about soaking their clothes anymore. This time one of the visiting rabbis read the Ketubah, the marriage contract, to the crowd. Everyone – Jews, Muslims, and Christians present – went wild at the end. After the weddings, I went with Jen to Rabbi Gershom’s house and was fed a good big lunch (and then some) of rice and peas by Jen’s friend Rachel who I think was Rabbi Gershom’s niece although I may have gotten the relationship wrong. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast much earlier in the morning, and then spent the day in the some trying to sing with the crowd, and I was hungry. The doctor from Chicago, Dr. Feldman I believe, joined us. We ate and then I returned to the guesthouse and spoke with the Israeli’s for a bit.
Then the music festival began. The videos only attempt to do it justice and my words can’t even make a dent. Imagine a National Geographic special on African dancing, but with more clothing. The women stole the show, with groups from each Jewish village sharing two or three songs, the only instruments being their vocal chords, bodies, and two bongos. The performers ranged from single-digit ages to some women who must have been in their 50’s, and it seemed as if not a single limb of any individual was attached to any other limb of that individual. The videos are worth asking me for. To top it off, the last dance of the last group was crashed by three muzungus who will remain un-named until I get permission (some might say they made fools of themselves, which they did, but the crowd loved it!).
After the music festival, we attended the afternoon service, lit the candles for the last night of Chanukah, and sang some songs in the synagogue. This was mostly just muzungus and the rabbi’s family, and it was a nice way to say goodbye to the holiday. The Israeli’s, a dancing muzungu and I then caught a ride to town with a friend, and after stopping at their hotel to drop off their things, we went out for a few beers. I took a boda motorcycle home at around 11pm. A long but absolutely incredible day.
It is now noon on Monday. Yesterday was unreal. I woke up at around 7:30am, had a small breakfast consisting of a banana and tea. Then I caught a ride into town in the van with Anne and her family on their way to church. It was already 8:45am and the weddings were supposed to begin at 9am, so I quickly found a boda motorcycle and took a bumpy ride to Nabugoya Hill and the Abayudaya.
I arrived a couple of minutes after 9am and walked down to the guesthouse. I sat for a few minutes with the muzungus and then we all made our way to the grassy area right outside the synagogue. None of the brides nor any grooms had found their way to the place yet so, working on African/Jewish time again, we waited. Men who were related to the wedding parties were dressed in an array of occasion-clothing, from suits to sportcoats to business-casual wear. Guests wore regular every-day clothing. Women dressed in colorful dresses with pinched shoulders, apparently a “peacock-style” dress that is customarily worn as such joyous occasions. The women entered the synagogue making these sounds that I can only describe as…African. It is a high-pitched version of the sounds one makes when patting the opening of the mouth while screaming a solid note. But their hands were nowhere near their mouths; they were up in the air leading the way for the women’s spins and hops as they made their way toward the front of the synagogue. African and Abayudaya music was played on speakers and the scene that was forming as we took our seats in the synagogue at around 9:30am was an informal one, and I became excited for a loud, fun, African wedding.
At around 12:00pm the first couple made their appearance. Rabbi Gershom announced that they had arrived, which was unnecessary because it was obvious due to the sounds made by the women outside the synagogue who were awaiting their arrival. The man entered the synagogue first, surrounded by an entourage of people to the point where it was difficult to pick out the groom. Nobody wore matching colors or suits and everybody just stormed the scene to the point at which it was completely impossible for me to have any clue as to what was going on until one man was left standing under the chuppah…I tagged him as the groom. Then the woman entered in a black and white dress, her hair stylishly arranged. Several older women and even more younger ones danced her down the aisle, making those high-pitched la-la-la sounds the whole way down. They reached the chuppah and the entourage crowded the couple’s space right outside the chuppah. The couple faced the crowd, staring straight ahead without making eye contact with anyone and never revealing a smile. The rabbi said a blessing on a cup of wine and the groom drank a bit before bringing the cup to his bride’s mouth. The rabbi then handed the groom a ring and recited the words “Harei At Mekudeshet Li, B’Taba’at Zu, K’Hilchot Moshe V’Yisrael,” “Behold you become sanctified to me, by way of this ring, according to the laws of Moses and Israel.” The groom repeated the statement to his bride, and then the rabbi handed the her a ring and she performed the same ritual, changing the words that relate to a female to those which relate to a male. The women made their sounds once again and jumped up and down in excitement. Rabbi Gershom and the two visiting rabbis then recited the first six of the seven blessings made over another cup of wine. Before the last blessing, the bride and groom were wrapped in a tallit, a prayer shawl. At this point they faced eachother and looked into each other’s eyes until the end of the ceremony. The rabbi recited the final blessing and the crowd went wild. The music blasted through the synagogue and the bride and groom were danced out of the building and down to the guesthouse.
The rabbi then suggested that, in order to fit everyone and in hopes of a cooler setting, we move to the front of the guesthouse where three tents had been erected. The crowd made their way down, each person carrying their chair from the synagogue with them. Younger people carried two chairs, the elders carried none. When everyone had settled in under the tents, the next bride and groom were driven down the rocky path in a jeep. Another entourage (I can’t swear it was made up of different people…too many colors) came rushing down the hill surrounding the jeep, singing, dancing, and making that noise. This time, there was an equal amount of men as there were women. The bride a groom made their way to the chuppah, this couple smiling the entire way, and the rest of the wedding proceeded similarly to the first. The final wedding, not to take away from its significance, was a repeat, although it seemed to be the youngest couple with the most enthusiastic friends, unless it was just the point where everyone accepted how sweaty we were and didn’t care about soaking their clothes anymore. This time one of the visiting rabbis read the Ketubah, the marriage contract, to the crowd. Everyone – Jews, Muslims, and Christians present – went wild at the end. After the weddings, I went with Jen to Rabbi Gershom’s house and was fed a good big lunch (and then some) of rice and peas by Jen’s friend Rachel who I think was Rabbi Gershom’s niece although I may have gotten the relationship wrong. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast much earlier in the morning, and then spent the day in the some trying to sing with the crowd, and I was hungry. The doctor from Chicago, Dr. Feldman I believe, joined us. We ate and then I returned to the guesthouse and spoke with the Israeli’s for a bit.
Then the music festival began. The videos only attempt to do it justice and my words can’t even make a dent. Imagine a National Geographic special on African dancing, but with more clothing. The women stole the show, with groups from each Jewish village sharing two or three songs, the only instruments being their vocal chords, bodies, and two bongos. The performers ranged from single-digit ages to some women who must have been in their 50’s, and it seemed as if not a single limb of any individual was attached to any other limb of that individual. The videos are worth asking me for. To top it off, the last dance of the last group was crashed by three muzungus who will remain un-named until I get permission (some might say they made fools of themselves, which they did, but the crowd loved it!).
After the music festival, we attended the afternoon service, lit the candles for the last night of Chanukah, and sang some songs in the synagogue. This was mostly just muzungus and the rabbi’s family, and it was a nice way to say goodbye to the holiday. The Israeli’s, a dancing muzungu and I then caught a ride to town with a friend, and after stopping at their hotel to drop off their things, we went out for a few beers. I took a boda motorcycle home at around 11pm. A long but absolutely incredible day.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Day 11
12/27/08
Shavua tov! It is now Saturday night and I am back at Anne’s. Anna is gone and it is a bit lonely being the only muzungu and Westerner. Shabbat was great in Nabugoya. Last night, I lit Chanukah candles with the Israelis in the guesthouse. We then walked to the synagogue where there were so many visitors that, for the first time ever, there were more muzungus in Nabugoya than Ugandans. The services were full of African/Jewish songs once again and all the first-time muzungus seemed to really enjoy it. There were two families from the West Coast there. One was backpacking with their children, all under the age of 13, for one year around the world. The other was doing a chesed project in Uganda and brought gifts for the Abayudaya. There were visitors form Kampala and Chicago as well and someone brought bottles of wine so we were able to make a proper Kiddush this time. After the service Friday night, we went back to the guesthouse and ate with all the muzungus. We had matoke, potatoes, greens, fish, and vegetables. The families sat together at the big table and the Israelis and I sat at a smaller table. I got some good Hebrew practice again and numerous visitors form the other table came to meet us throughout the meal. I thought my trip was pretty interesting but I always felt pretty lame when these guys told about their year-long backpacking adventures.
The other muzungus included a doctor from Chicago who is here for three weeks to help out in the Abayudaya clinic, an attorney from New York researching the international criminal courts, and a woman working with the coffee co-op here that is shared between the local Jews, Muslims, and Christians. Everyone had a different story about how they ended up here and it was exciting to hear others’ and share my own. After dinner I spoke for a few hours with the visiting rabbi who runs a nondenominational school in Phoenix. We shared some views and others differed but I really enjoyed the dialogue and his perspective on Jewish history. I went to sleep around 12:30am and slept well until 7:30am. I woke up, ate some fruit for breakfast with everyone else, and then headed to the synagogue for services at 9am. As I walked, I bumped into Jen, the woman at whose house I spent the night I landed in Uganda. She was visiting her Ugandan “family”, Rabbi Gershom’s family, whom she befriended in the States and whose impact on her life resulted in her relocation to Kampala, Uganda. The services were similar to last week’s, enjoyable and unique. The Torah was read by several different people and Rabbi Kleinberg led the Mussaf service. After the service, the community gathered for Kiddush outside the synagogue and I spoke more with Jen and was introduced to the doctor of the Abayudaya clinic, Dr. Samson. I then went to the guesthouse for lunch which I ate with Yisrael, Rabbi Kleinberg and Marc, who happens to be a professor of Jewish history in a university in CA. I mostly listened to Rabbi Kleinberg and Marc discuss the present situation of Jews in the world and was fascinated by how much I don’t know. I threw in a line here and there when I thought I had something valuable to add but I easily recognized that I was the least knowledgeable individual regarding the topic and I had much more to learn by listening than I had to add. After lunch I slept for a couple of hours, then returned to the lobby area to find the Israelis making guacamole. I shared some of that with them and we then began to sing zmirot, songs that are traditionally sung on Shabbat. We sang for about an hour, with various others joining us at times for one song, two songs, or more. The father of the backpacking family, Tzvi, joined us for a bit and it turns out his brother is some famous TV-personality in Israel. After singing, we returned to the synagogue for the evening service and havdallah, the blessing symbolizing the distinction between Shabbat and the rest of the week. The whole community gathered outside the synagogue and the blessing was recited, then Chanukah candles were lit. Chanukah songs of Abayudaya, Israeli, and American tradition were sung as everyone stood in a circle holding hands. I then returned to the guesthouse, lit candles for Chanukah with the Israelis, then said goodbye. I went to Rabbi Gershom’s house, spoke with Jen for a bit, loaded my pictures from the Torah dedication ceremony onto Rabbi Gershom’s computer, and took a boda home with a guy named Noah who is working for an NGO in Sudan. Tomorrow I will hopefully post this in town and then head to the Abayudaya again for three weddings and a music festival. Then I think the Israelis will come back to Mbale with me and I will spend tomorrow night with them before they leave the area on Monday. I hope everyone at home had a great weekend and happy Chanukah (only one day left!) Shavua tov!
Shavua tov! It is now Saturday night and I am back at Anne’s. Anna is gone and it is a bit lonely being the only muzungu and Westerner. Shabbat was great in Nabugoya. Last night, I lit Chanukah candles with the Israelis in the guesthouse. We then walked to the synagogue where there were so many visitors that, for the first time ever, there were more muzungus in Nabugoya than Ugandans. The services were full of African/Jewish songs once again and all the first-time muzungus seemed to really enjoy it. There were two families from the West Coast there. One was backpacking with their children, all under the age of 13, for one year around the world. The other was doing a chesed project in Uganda and brought gifts for the Abayudaya. There were visitors form Kampala and Chicago as well and someone brought bottles of wine so we were able to make a proper Kiddush this time. After the service Friday night, we went back to the guesthouse and ate with all the muzungus. We had matoke, potatoes, greens, fish, and vegetables. The families sat together at the big table and the Israelis and I sat at a smaller table. I got some good Hebrew practice again and numerous visitors form the other table came to meet us throughout the meal. I thought my trip was pretty interesting but I always felt pretty lame when these guys told about their year-long backpacking adventures.
The other muzungus included a doctor from Chicago who is here for three weeks to help out in the Abayudaya clinic, an attorney from New York researching the international criminal courts, and a woman working with the coffee co-op here that is shared between the local Jews, Muslims, and Christians. Everyone had a different story about how they ended up here and it was exciting to hear others’ and share my own. After dinner I spoke for a few hours with the visiting rabbi who runs a nondenominational school in Phoenix. We shared some views and others differed but I really enjoyed the dialogue and his perspective on Jewish history. I went to sleep around 12:30am and slept well until 7:30am. I woke up, ate some fruit for breakfast with everyone else, and then headed to the synagogue for services at 9am. As I walked, I bumped into Jen, the woman at whose house I spent the night I landed in Uganda. She was visiting her Ugandan “family”, Rabbi Gershom’s family, whom she befriended in the States and whose impact on her life resulted in her relocation to Kampala, Uganda. The services were similar to last week’s, enjoyable and unique. The Torah was read by several different people and Rabbi Kleinberg led the Mussaf service. After the service, the community gathered for Kiddush outside the synagogue and I spoke more with Jen and was introduced to the doctor of the Abayudaya clinic, Dr. Samson. I then went to the guesthouse for lunch which I ate with Yisrael, Rabbi Kleinberg and Marc, who happens to be a professor of Jewish history in a university in CA. I mostly listened to Rabbi Kleinberg and Marc discuss the present situation of Jews in the world and was fascinated by how much I don’t know. I threw in a line here and there when I thought I had something valuable to add but I easily recognized that I was the least knowledgeable individual regarding the topic and I had much more to learn by listening than I had to add. After lunch I slept for a couple of hours, then returned to the lobby area to find the Israelis making guacamole. I shared some of that with them and we then began to sing zmirot, songs that are traditionally sung on Shabbat. We sang for about an hour, with various others joining us at times for one song, two songs, or more. The father of the backpacking family, Tzvi, joined us for a bit and it turns out his brother is some famous TV-personality in Israel. After singing, we returned to the synagogue for the evening service and havdallah, the blessing symbolizing the distinction between Shabbat and the rest of the week. The whole community gathered outside the synagogue and the blessing was recited, then Chanukah candles were lit. Chanukah songs of Abayudaya, Israeli, and American tradition were sung as everyone stood in a circle holding hands. I then returned to the guesthouse, lit candles for Chanukah with the Israelis, then said goodbye. I went to Rabbi Gershom’s house, spoke with Jen for a bit, loaded my pictures from the Torah dedication ceremony onto Rabbi Gershom’s computer, and took a boda home with a guy named Noah who is working for an NGO in Sudan. Tomorrow I will hopefully post this in town and then head to the Abayudaya again for three weddings and a music festival. Then I think the Israelis will come back to Mbale with me and I will spend tomorrow night with them before they leave the area on Monday. I hope everyone at home had a great weekend and happy Chanukah (only one day left!) Shavua tov!
Day 10
12/26/08
This morning Anna and I went to the Abayudaya at around 8:45am. We shared a boda motorcycle and got there around 9:10. These Ugandans are unquestionably Jewish because the ceremony, which was scheduled to begin at 9am, didn’t start until 10:30am. But Anna got to meet a bunch of Jews and we spoke with Rabbi Darren Kleinberg, the rabbi from Phoenix who brought the Torah (or “Mateka” in Lugandan), for quite a bit before people began to gather. We also met two families from the west coast of the US. One is just doing some Africa traveling/safari, and another is backpacking for a year with their four children. I didn’t get to speak to them enough, but a room opened in the guesthouse so I will be returning this afternoon to spend Shabbat with them.
The ceremony was amazing. It began with Rabbi Gershom, his brothers and their sons, and Rabbi Kleinberg standing in a circle with some musical instruments, guitars, bongos, cymbals. The African/Jewish music erupted full-throttle from the start, and the obvious excitement and joy at receiving a new Torah was contagious. Sometime in the middle of the first song, I realized what was occurring in front of my eyes. I just took a mental step back and immediately got the chills. A village of African Jews, recently exposed to the Jewish world and more eager as a community than anything imaginable to embrace all aspects of Judaism, was taking on the responsibility of caring for and internalizing every word of this scroll. And I was a muzungu, with my camera out and unable to decide how to balance battery life, video, and stills. Scratch that; I was just another Jew, proud as hell to be here to experience this. After some songs outside, everyone moved inside the synagogue. Rabbi Gershom welcomed everyone and gave a brief overview of the ceremony’s proceedings. The new Torah was brought by Rabbi Kleinberg and one of the men who is here with his family, Marc, to the newly-built Beit Midrash, the building in which Judaic studies are taught and learned. I was given the honor of holding one of the four posts upon which was tied the chuppah, the canopy under which people are married and a Torah is traditionally received. The four Torahs that the community already had were carried out of the synagogue and met with the new Torah under the chuppah. Each Torah was touched to the new one, and the whole community along with plenty of muzungus sang and danced around it for a bit. The Torahs were then brought into the synagogue and several verses were read from the new one by Rabbi Gershom. I got a good amount of pictures and videos of the fascinating event. After the ceremony, Anna and I took a boda motorcycle back down the rocky mountain to town. We picked up some things at the supermarket and grabbed lunch at the Mount Elgon Hotel nextdoor to Anne’s house. We then came home and I decided I wanted to go back to the Abayudaya for Shabbat so I packed up, said goodbye to Anna who is leaving tomorrow for Dar-el-Salaam in Zanzibar, Tanzania for a holiday, and went to the clinic to work for a couple of hours. At 5pm, Dr. Wafula gave me a ride on his motorcycle to town where I got a boda motorcycle ride back to the Abayudaya at Semei Kakungulu. Luckily a room had opened up which I shared with an Israeli backpacker named Noa. Yisrael and Ohad, the Israelis who I met last weekend were also back and I felt quite at home.
This morning Anna and I went to the Abayudaya at around 8:45am. We shared a boda motorcycle and got there around 9:10. These Ugandans are unquestionably Jewish because the ceremony, which was scheduled to begin at 9am, didn’t start until 10:30am. But Anna got to meet a bunch of Jews and we spoke with Rabbi Darren Kleinberg, the rabbi from Phoenix who brought the Torah (or “Mateka” in Lugandan), for quite a bit before people began to gather. We also met two families from the west coast of the US. One is just doing some Africa traveling/safari, and another is backpacking for a year with their four children. I didn’t get to speak to them enough, but a room opened in the guesthouse so I will be returning this afternoon to spend Shabbat with them.
The ceremony was amazing. It began with Rabbi Gershom, his brothers and their sons, and Rabbi Kleinberg standing in a circle with some musical instruments, guitars, bongos, cymbals. The African/Jewish music erupted full-throttle from the start, and the obvious excitement and joy at receiving a new Torah was contagious. Sometime in the middle of the first song, I realized what was occurring in front of my eyes. I just took a mental step back and immediately got the chills. A village of African Jews, recently exposed to the Jewish world and more eager as a community than anything imaginable to embrace all aspects of Judaism, was taking on the responsibility of caring for and internalizing every word of this scroll. And I was a muzungu, with my camera out and unable to decide how to balance battery life, video, and stills. Scratch that; I was just another Jew, proud as hell to be here to experience this. After some songs outside, everyone moved inside the synagogue. Rabbi Gershom welcomed everyone and gave a brief overview of the ceremony’s proceedings. The new Torah was brought by Rabbi Kleinberg and one of the men who is here with his family, Marc, to the newly-built Beit Midrash, the building in which Judaic studies are taught and learned. I was given the honor of holding one of the four posts upon which was tied the chuppah, the canopy under which people are married and a Torah is traditionally received. The four Torahs that the community already had were carried out of the synagogue and met with the new Torah under the chuppah. Each Torah was touched to the new one, and the whole community along with plenty of muzungus sang and danced around it for a bit. The Torahs were then brought into the synagogue and several verses were read from the new one by Rabbi Gershom. I got a good amount of pictures and videos of the fascinating event. After the ceremony, Anna and I took a boda motorcycle back down the rocky mountain to town. We picked up some things at the supermarket and grabbed lunch at the Mount Elgon Hotel nextdoor to Anne’s house. We then came home and I decided I wanted to go back to the Abayudaya for Shabbat so I packed up, said goodbye to Anna who is leaving tomorrow for Dar-el-Salaam in Zanzibar, Tanzania for a holiday, and went to the clinic to work for a couple of hours. At 5pm, Dr. Wafula gave me a ride on his motorcycle to town where I got a boda motorcycle ride back to the Abayudaya at Semei Kakungulu. Luckily a room had opened up which I shared with an Israeli backpacker named Noa. Yisrael and Ohad, the Israelis who I met last weekend were also back and I felt quite at home.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Day 9
12/25/08
Today was Christmas here, and everyone slept a bit late and ate a big breakfast together. We had hard-boiled eggs, bananas, and hot water with jinga. Then we were driven to Bushikori; I went to the clinic and Anne and Anna went to church across the street. When I got to the clinic around 9am, they had already dealt with one boda motorcycle accident in which a boda carrying three people hit a pedestrian. The pedestrian died on the spot, the driver fled, and the two passengers were taken into our clinic. One received stitches for his wounds, the other had only superficial bruises. 15 minutes after I arrived, another boda accident victim came in. He was around 25 y/o, and fell while riding himself. He had a concussion and did not remember any of the accident. He had a dislocated hip and several abrasions along the right side of his body, on which he presumably skidded. He also needed a stitch to a laceration on this head. Yesterday while I was away, Bushikori had a patient with meningitis. They referred him to the hospital but he died last night. The lady with shingles came back even sicker than last time. It turns out she has had HIV for 3 years, took anti-retroviral medications for 1 year and 3 months (I’m pretty sure they need to be taken indefinitely) and then stopped because she was preached to and told that G-d will save her and she didn’t need any extra help. She then developed TB around 6 months ago and once again, started the meds and then stopped them prematurely. Now she is so sick that she will most likely die from infections of any open blisters from the shingles.
Another recurring theme here is the failure of patients to take prescribed medications as indicated by their doctor. Rather, they stop when they feel better and consequently, their disease builds a resistance toward the treatment and it becomes ineffective both to them and anyone they infect. I think the problem is most likely due to the inability of doctors to remain in contact with patients who often live in isolated villages without electricity, and to initial miscommunication between doctor and patient because of the numerous dialects here of which everyone assumes everyone understands perfectly.
The weather today was very strange. It heavily rained for about 45 minutes, not a hint of blue in the sky. And then suddenly it stopped and you couldn’t find a single cloud. The sun didn’t feel as strong and it was much cooler the rest of the day which was very, very welcome.
I began writing a grant proposal for Bushikori today in order to build a new building for the clinic. A British/American team of engineers and engineering students came a few months ago and drew up plans for the expansion. Now the funds are the only thing holding them back. The new clinic will have wards with higher capacities, a surgery theatre, two more laboratories, and sleeping areas for the staff who remain overnight with the patients. It should be really helpful both for Bushikori and for the people they help. I hope I can turn out a good proposal.
After church ended, I came home with Anne and Anna to a big lunch cooked by the girls of the house, Grace, Mary, and Fazi. We had matoke, peas, potatoes, rice pasta for me, avocados (they are amazing here), and freshly-squeezed mango/passion fruit juice. I’m really growing fond of the types of foods served at meals here and I hope I can bring some of the style back to the States.
After lunch Grace, Matthew and I watched WALL-E on my computer…they had never seen a fully animated movie before and I think they really liked it. I then napped for a bit, had tea with Anne (now becoming “Mama Anne”) and then dinner with Matthew, just leftovers from lunch. Then Matthew and I went to the hotel nearby to play some minigolf. It’s now 10:00pm and I am more than ready for bed. Tomorrow morning Anna and I are going to the Jewish village as they receive a new Torah. Another fun boda ride through the hills. Then off to the clinic until Shabbat which I will spend at Anne’s since the guest-house at the Abayudaya is full with visitors! That’s all for tonight. Thanks to everyone who has written comments and emails. I’m sorry if I don’t get back to you right away or even after a few but I promise I read them all! Internet is just slow and timed so it’s difficult to respond. So please keep writing…it’s always nice to hear from home. Miss everyone and I will be home in less than 2 weeks! Goodnight and Chanukah Sameach!
Today was Christmas here, and everyone slept a bit late and ate a big breakfast together. We had hard-boiled eggs, bananas, and hot water with jinga. Then we were driven to Bushikori; I went to the clinic and Anne and Anna went to church across the street. When I got to the clinic around 9am, they had already dealt with one boda motorcycle accident in which a boda carrying three people hit a pedestrian. The pedestrian died on the spot, the driver fled, and the two passengers were taken into our clinic. One received stitches for his wounds, the other had only superficial bruises. 15 minutes after I arrived, another boda accident victim came in. He was around 25 y/o, and fell while riding himself. He had a concussion and did not remember any of the accident. He had a dislocated hip and several abrasions along the right side of his body, on which he presumably skidded. He also needed a stitch to a laceration on this head. Yesterday while I was away, Bushikori had a patient with meningitis. They referred him to the hospital but he died last night. The lady with shingles came back even sicker than last time. It turns out she has had HIV for 3 years, took anti-retroviral medications for 1 year and 3 months (I’m pretty sure they need to be taken indefinitely) and then stopped because she was preached to and told that G-d will save her and she didn’t need any extra help. She then developed TB around 6 months ago and once again, started the meds and then stopped them prematurely. Now she is so sick that she will most likely die from infections of any open blisters from the shingles.
Another recurring theme here is the failure of patients to take prescribed medications as indicated by their doctor. Rather, they stop when they feel better and consequently, their disease builds a resistance toward the treatment and it becomes ineffective both to them and anyone they infect. I think the problem is most likely due to the inability of doctors to remain in contact with patients who often live in isolated villages without electricity, and to initial miscommunication between doctor and patient because of the numerous dialects here of which everyone assumes everyone understands perfectly.
The weather today was very strange. It heavily rained for about 45 minutes, not a hint of blue in the sky. And then suddenly it stopped and you couldn’t find a single cloud. The sun didn’t feel as strong and it was much cooler the rest of the day which was very, very welcome.
I began writing a grant proposal for Bushikori today in order to build a new building for the clinic. A British/American team of engineers and engineering students came a few months ago and drew up plans for the expansion. Now the funds are the only thing holding them back. The new clinic will have wards with higher capacities, a surgery theatre, two more laboratories, and sleeping areas for the staff who remain overnight with the patients. It should be really helpful both for Bushikori and for the people they help. I hope I can turn out a good proposal.
After church ended, I came home with Anne and Anna to a big lunch cooked by the girls of the house, Grace, Mary, and Fazi. We had matoke, peas, potatoes, rice pasta for me, avocados (they are amazing here), and freshly-squeezed mango/passion fruit juice. I’m really growing fond of the types of foods served at meals here and I hope I can bring some of the style back to the States.
After lunch Grace, Matthew and I watched WALL-E on my computer…they had never seen a fully animated movie before and I think they really liked it. I then napped for a bit, had tea with Anne (now becoming “Mama Anne”) and then dinner with Matthew, just leftovers from lunch. Then Matthew and I went to the hotel nearby to play some minigolf. It’s now 10:00pm and I am more than ready for bed. Tomorrow morning Anna and I are going to the Jewish village as they receive a new Torah. Another fun boda ride through the hills. Then off to the clinic until Shabbat which I will spend at Anne’s since the guest-house at the Abayudaya is full with visitors! That’s all for tonight. Thanks to everyone who has written comments and emails. I’m sorry if I don’t get back to you right away or even after a few but I promise I read them all! Internet is just slow and timed so it’s difficult to respond. So please keep writing…it’s always nice to hear from home. Miss everyone and I will be home in less than 2 weeks! Goodnight and Chanukah Sameach!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Day 8 - Vacation
12/24/08
Today was my vacation. So I woke up half an hour late, at 7, and re-hung all of my clothing outside. Then I prepared for a hike, packing 3 liters of water, a camera, and suntan lotion. We got a ride into town from the BCC driver to pick up some last-minute things. Then we walked around town until someone driving a van yelled to us “Sipi Falls.” That is how it works here. If you are muzungu in Mbale and you look lost, you’re probably looking for a ride to Sipi. We got on the van, the first two in which is both good and bad – good because you get to choose your seats and bad because they don’t leave until the van is full…and then some. In the 8-seater, we left and hour later when we had 15 people inside. The drive to Sipi was a bit less than an hour but we were dropped off 2 km from where we wanted since we didn’t know any better. Sipi is in the mountains so the 2km walk was up- and downhill. We arrived at Sipi River Lodge at around 11am, an hour and a half later than Anna told the guide yesterday. No problem here, everyone is too laid back to care really. So we ordered banana-pineapple-mango smoothies and then headed out with our Ugandan guide, Tony. We went to 3 waterfalls, a full hike of about 3.5 hours. The first one was difficult for the American (me) but everyone else did it easily. I stepped in a massive mudpit and my left foot was covered the rest of the hike. It was beautiful and it was a nice day but I need to say, the hikes in Israel are far better in my opinion. We grabbed lunch back at the lodge when we returned around 2:30, then set out to find a taxi ride back to Mbale. Some van full of phone salespeople picked us up (it was a bit like hitchhiking but they asked for money at the end), and took us and 18 other people back to Mbale in the 14-seater. Being the only two muzungus in the van with many other much-too-friendly Ugandans, Anna decided to tell them we were married. She claims that 4 people asked for her number so her “only way out” was to tell them that I was her husband. I think a simple “no” would have sufficed but…We were dropped off in town in Mbale and then took a boda motorcycle back home. A shower, dinner, and then massages at the resort. A good vacation and back to the clinic tomorrow. Happy Chanukah!
Today was my vacation. So I woke up half an hour late, at 7, and re-hung all of my clothing outside. Then I prepared for a hike, packing 3 liters of water, a camera, and suntan lotion. We got a ride into town from the BCC driver to pick up some last-minute things. Then we walked around town until someone driving a van yelled to us “Sipi Falls.” That is how it works here. If you are muzungu in Mbale and you look lost, you’re probably looking for a ride to Sipi. We got on the van, the first two in which is both good and bad – good because you get to choose your seats and bad because they don’t leave until the van is full…and then some. In the 8-seater, we left and hour later when we had 15 people inside. The drive to Sipi was a bit less than an hour but we were dropped off 2 km from where we wanted since we didn’t know any better. Sipi is in the mountains so the 2km walk was up- and downhill. We arrived at Sipi River Lodge at around 11am, an hour and a half later than Anna told the guide yesterday. No problem here, everyone is too laid back to care really. So we ordered banana-pineapple-mango smoothies and then headed out with our Ugandan guide, Tony. We went to 3 waterfalls, a full hike of about 3.5 hours. The first one was difficult for the American (me) but everyone else did it easily. I stepped in a massive mudpit and my left foot was covered the rest of the hike. It was beautiful and it was a nice day but I need to say, the hikes in Israel are far better in my opinion. We grabbed lunch back at the lodge when we returned around 2:30, then set out to find a taxi ride back to Mbale. Some van full of phone salespeople picked us up (it was a bit like hitchhiking but they asked for money at the end), and took us and 18 other people back to Mbale in the 14-seater. Being the only two muzungus in the van with many other much-too-friendly Ugandans, Anna decided to tell them we were married. She claims that 4 people asked for her number so her “only way out” was to tell them that I was her husband. I think a simple “no” would have sufficed but…We were dropped off in town in Mbale and then took a boda motorcycle back home. A shower, dinner, and then massages at the resort. A good vacation and back to the clinic tomorrow. Happy Chanukah!
Day 7 - The Villages
12/23/08
It is now 10:30pm on Tuesday night; last night we watched a movie and went to sleep early. Today, I had to take a boda motorcycle to the clinic because the driver was off. But let me tell you – there is nothing like a fast motorcycle drive in the early morning to wake you up. I got to the clinic around 8:15am and finally met Doctor Wafula, or Levert (pronounced “Levat”), gave him his gifts from Maital and family as well as some Hershey’s chocolate that I brought him. He thanked me again and again for the medical supplies we provided, and described to me the disorganization that surrounds the proper supply of protective-wear for doctors in clinics here. I went on rounds with the doctors and saw some patients that were still there form yesterday, and some new ones, but no crazy cases. Just a few more malaria patients. In the middle of rounds I left with the head midwife at the clinic and we walked a short distance (maybe a mile) to a village. We met with the midwife there, and I realized how apparent a distinction there is between the class that I often encounter in town and the people living less than a mile away. The culture seemed older, in that the women came to greet me and sat on the floor to shake my hand. They always remained lower than the man, like in The King and I. The midwife spoke no English but Zawija, the midwife from the clinic, was constantly translating for me. It is difficult to describe the situation without picture, but women deliver in a mud-hut just a mile from the main hospital. They lay on a papyrus mat which is cleaned with just water between births. The midwives lack gloves and are supposed to charge 5,000Ugh (= ~$2.50) per birth, but are usually only paid 200Ugh, which doesn’t even buy enough soap to wash their hands afterward, let alone gloves. Since these midwives report to the clinic and are given further training and refresher courses there, they are aware of the threat of AIDS and HIV due to unprotected deliveries. But it is their livelihood and they choose to do it anyway. The clinic secured money to buy tin roofs for the mud-hut delivery rooms in the villages. This way, the mud-hut doesn’t collapse onto the mother or baby during the rainy season.
We took bicycle bodas the rest of the day to villages throughout the valleys. We traveled as far as 45 minutes on bicycle, through trees and high grass. I took videos and pictures because it was such a strange experience for me. Off-road bicycling with nothing to hold onto and no way to see what’s coming ahead because your driver is sitting directly in front of you. And it was 90-something degrees out, without a single cloud. Brutal, long, but incredible day. We went to a total of 5 villages, all in these valleys and plains and forests. Whenever I saw a group of children, they would scream “muzungu” and chase after me waving and giggling. In some ways I felt like a zoo animal but it was adorable anyway to I waved back and smiled. When there were children in places we stopped, they would ask me to take a picture of them. When I then showed them the picture on the back of the digital camera, they got so excited they would jump around and dance and laugh. It was very cute and I wish I could have gotten video footage of it but it took them looking at the back of the camera in order to trigger the reaction. I saw some malnourished children with these large, swollen bellies. I wish I had brought plumpy-nut with me which happens to be available in town.
The situation was sad and these people were poorer than poor. One man was bathing in a roofless hut made of dried leaves when we came and just spoke to us over the top. One midwife asked me to take a picture of her and her husband and send it to them so she can hang it in the delivery mud-hut. There were flies buzzing around the mud-huts and the dirt floors are cleaned with…dirt. It is a very bad situation and again, difficult to describe without pictures. It is similar to what one would see on the Discover Channel or in National Geographic magazine. I actually pictured English subtitles in front of me whenever the women spoke. Nudity doesn’t seem to be a thing of concern and the people are happy. I want to say they don’t know any better but who knows, maybe they’re way of life is better. I think the best thing to say is I don’t think they know any differently.
The bumpy bicycle-riding did a number on my back, so when I got back to the clinic, I gathered my things and caught a ride to town with the Doctor who was bringing a computer to be fixed there. It was already around 3:30pm so no new patients were really coming. I bought some things in town, including 2 big bottles of water for a 4-hour hike tomorrow as
When I got back from town, I decided it was time to do my laundry. That means scrubbing, kneading, and wringing my clothing in these big plastic bins filled with soapy water. It took me 2 hours just to wash my clothes and rinse out the soap (mostly). Then I hung them all on two clothes lines outside. But the sun was setting and we were leaving for dinner and the night watchman had not yet arrived. So 20 minutes after I hung the clothes, I took them down and threw them over the chair in my room, soaking wet.
Anna and I then treated the whole family and Levert to dinner at the resort for Christmas. Anna, David, Matthew (Anne’s sons) and I sat in the back of the pickup truck that took us there, because we wanted to be those people. I think everyone had a really great time and they enjoyed not cooking dinner. When I got home I lit candles and now I think it is time for bed. Goodnight all and Happy Chanukah!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Day 6
12/22/08
I slept so well last night! I think the sunburn knocked me out. I woke up at 6:30am, dressed, ate an egg and banana for breakfast along with some hot water and jinga (maybe she was saying ginger?). I reapplied the pregnancy cream (which is working great, lesson learned for future sunburns) and the van came at 7:30am to take me to the clinic. I went on rounds with Juliet and the nurses aides. We saw seven patients. The first was a 16 y/o male who had been in a motorcycle accident last night. He had a large laceration on his right knee and his teeth had punctured his upper lip. The lip was stitched last night but the injury to the knee cannot be stitched and was therefore cleaned with hydrogen peroxide and covered in gauze. The second patient was a 20-something y/o male with malaria and ringworm throughout his body. The first line treatment of malaria had not worked for him last week, so he has begun the second-line treatment of quinine injections and will be sent home today but must return for three more injections. We then proceeded to the women’s and children’s ward. The first patient was a baby with pneumonia, titis externia (not sure I spelled it correctly but it is an infection of the outer ear with discharge), and malaria. This child is obviously very sick and will remain in the clinic under observation for a few days.
The next patient was a baby with an upper respiratory infection and malaria. He is being treated with intramuscular injections of quinine. The next patient was the healthiest of all, a baby with only malaria. We then moved to the isolation ward where we saw a mid-40 y/o woman with Shingles. The last patient was also in the isolation ward, a baby with tetanus that he acquired after receiving his circumcision two weeks ago at home. The baby exhibited tremors and spasms of all four extremities and had difficulty focusing his gaze.
That was pretty rough to see so I went outside for some fresh air and then sat in the office for a few minutes to gather my thoughts and to recognize that 90% of those cases would never occur in the US. We then went to the examination room to receive new patients. The first patient was a baby with malaria who had received intramuscular quinine injection on Friday and was supposed to receive three more over the weekend but the mother did not bring the baby back to the clinic because she didn’t have the money for the last few treatments. The baby’s condition worsened and she came back today with money to start the treatment over. The next patient was a middle-aged man who came two weeks ago with symptoms of tuberculosis. His sputum test was negative but he was told to go for an X-ray at Mbale main hospital. He did not go due to lack of money. He came back today to the clinic with a worsened condition.
The next patient was a baby who had been diagnosed with malaria last week, received a full first-line treatment, but was up vomiting all of last night. An IV treatment will be started today. The next patient was a baby with symptoms of the flu, has a fever and cough, but her chest is clear. Upper respiratory tract infection and malaria tests will be done in the lab.
Juliet and I then spoke about TB here, how doctors in clinics, who likely see the highest percentage of TB cases, lack masks and gloves for protection. Most people here are exposed to TB at an early age and if they have a healthy immune system, build an immunity toward it. However, the discussion revealed the lack of attention on the protection of doctors in underdeveloped regions, something I think I’d like to research further. If the problem is as vast as it seems, maybe there is a need for an organization that serves to provide the necessary information and equipment to ensure the safety and protection of health workers in these places.
A 37 y/o female patient then came in with lower abdominal pain and some other symptoms that indicated a menstrual problem. It turns out that she had a miscarriage 3 days ago due to untreated malaria. She has had 4 children before, one of which died at 9 months old. She had never used any form of birth control. The treatment for the patient is a pill that induces the delivery of the undeveloped fetus. The clinic does not have any of the medication in stock, so we had to send someone to the only pharmacy in town which sells the drug for 5,000Ugh. The entire procedure will cost the patient roughly $2.50. I think every co-pay in the States for anything is more than that.
Juliet and I then talked about the seasons in the States. She was surprised to learn that we also have trees and that we have houses made of wood. She also told me that operations at the main hospital are free, but patients are required to supply all of the equipment. They are basically given a shopping list and told to go get the things in town, soap, scissors, etc, and then return for with the materials for the operation. Circumcisions are done at the clinic for 5,000 Ugh (= ~$2.50).
Another patient, a teenage boy from the “projects” (they have them here too, and after describing to you the conditions of those not living in them, you can imagine what they are like). He complained of a cough that is productive (mucus is expelled) that he has had for 4 days. He has no history of the diseases common here of which this type of cough is a symptom. Something I notice is that patients without an educated background find it difficult to describe their symptoms, due to a small vocabulary. This patient’s eyes are bloodshot and yellow, painful and itching so he is given drops for allergic conjunctivitis. He was then asked if he has a girlfriend and if so, when he last slept with her. He says he does and it was two days ago. Juliet asks if he has been tested for HIV before he had sex with her. He answers no and she offers to give him a test but he refuses, saying he doesn’t want to know whether he is infected or not.
The next patient was a toddler carried in by her mother. The mother laid the child down on the examination table and told us that she had been fine until about 2 weeks ago when she looked weak and fell while walking on the side of the road. Since then, she has not spoken or been able to stand on her feet. The child lay quiet, not reacting to forceful movement of her legs. She has some control over her arm movement but doesn’t seem to have enough energy to initiate any movement. She suddenly moans in pain and then quiets down again. The mother says that the onset was sudden, but Juliet felt that she was not being 100% honest since she told the nurses that she had not gotten all of the immunizations for her child but had then told Juliet that she had. The case was a classic of what I knew about polio and I asked Juliet if that is what is was. She agreed with my diagnosis and we referred the child to an NGO on the other side of town that provides physical therapy for polio victims. As the mother lifted her daughter she was teary-eyed, and the girl, sprawled out over her mothers shoulder began to throw her head from side to side. The behavior suggested a sort of mental deficit – I assume another effect of advanced polio.
I have not yet managed the courage to ask if it is okay to take pictures of patients, but after seeing a case of polio, I asked Juliet if it would be okay if I asked her each time, and she’d tell whether or not it would be a problem. She agreed.
We broke for lunch – rice, potatoes and cabbage. The rest of the day was pretty quiet. I still haven’t met Dr. Wafula, the man with whom I organized my trip, but he is returning from Kampala today and I should meet him tomorrow. I am going to the villages tomorrow to meet with the traditional birth midwives so that should be interesting (gloves and goggles?). I will probably leave here around 5pm and head into town to post this. Then a quiet night I think is in order with the family. Maybe we’ll watch a movie on my laptop (thanks againYoni). Goodnight everyone, and Happy Chanukah!
I slept so well last night! I think the sunburn knocked me out. I woke up at 6:30am, dressed, ate an egg and banana for breakfast along with some hot water and jinga (maybe she was saying ginger?). I reapplied the pregnancy cream (which is working great, lesson learned for future sunburns) and the van came at 7:30am to take me to the clinic. I went on rounds with Juliet and the nurses aides. We saw seven patients. The first was a 16 y/o male who had been in a motorcycle accident last night. He had a large laceration on his right knee and his teeth had punctured his upper lip. The lip was stitched last night but the injury to the knee cannot be stitched and was therefore cleaned with hydrogen peroxide and covered in gauze. The second patient was a 20-something y/o male with malaria and ringworm throughout his body. The first line treatment of malaria had not worked for him last week, so he has begun the second-line treatment of quinine injections and will be sent home today but must return for three more injections. We then proceeded to the women’s and children’s ward. The first patient was a baby with pneumonia, titis externia (not sure I spelled it correctly but it is an infection of the outer ear with discharge), and malaria. This child is obviously very sick and will remain in the clinic under observation for a few days.
The next patient was a baby with an upper respiratory infection and malaria. He is being treated with intramuscular injections of quinine. The next patient was the healthiest of all, a baby with only malaria. We then moved to the isolation ward where we saw a mid-40 y/o woman with Shingles. The last patient was also in the isolation ward, a baby with tetanus that he acquired after receiving his circumcision two weeks ago at home. The baby exhibited tremors and spasms of all four extremities and had difficulty focusing his gaze.
That was pretty rough to see so I went outside for some fresh air and then sat in the office for a few minutes to gather my thoughts and to recognize that 90% of those cases would never occur in the US. We then went to the examination room to receive new patients. The first patient was a baby with malaria who had received intramuscular quinine injection on Friday and was supposed to receive three more over the weekend but the mother did not bring the baby back to the clinic because she didn’t have the money for the last few treatments. The baby’s condition worsened and she came back today with money to start the treatment over. The next patient was a middle-aged man who came two weeks ago with symptoms of tuberculosis. His sputum test was negative but he was told to go for an X-ray at Mbale main hospital. He did not go due to lack of money. He came back today to the clinic with a worsened condition.
The next patient was a baby who had been diagnosed with malaria last week, received a full first-line treatment, but was up vomiting all of last night. An IV treatment will be started today. The next patient was a baby with symptoms of the flu, has a fever and cough, but her chest is clear. Upper respiratory tract infection and malaria tests will be done in the lab.
Juliet and I then spoke about TB here, how doctors in clinics, who likely see the highest percentage of TB cases, lack masks and gloves for protection. Most people here are exposed to TB at an early age and if they have a healthy immune system, build an immunity toward it. However, the discussion revealed the lack of attention on the protection of doctors in underdeveloped regions, something I think I’d like to research further. If the problem is as vast as it seems, maybe there is a need for an organization that serves to provide the necessary information and equipment to ensure the safety and protection of health workers in these places.
A 37 y/o female patient then came in with lower abdominal pain and some other symptoms that indicated a menstrual problem. It turns out that she had a miscarriage 3 days ago due to untreated malaria. She has had 4 children before, one of which died at 9 months old. She had never used any form of birth control. The treatment for the patient is a pill that induces the delivery of the undeveloped fetus. The clinic does not have any of the medication in stock, so we had to send someone to the only pharmacy in town which sells the drug for 5,000Ugh. The entire procedure will cost the patient roughly $2.50. I think every co-pay in the States for anything is more than that.
Juliet and I then talked about the seasons in the States. She was surprised to learn that we also have trees and that we have houses made of wood. She also told me that operations at the main hospital are free, but patients are required to supply all of the equipment. They are basically given a shopping list and told to go get the things in town, soap, scissors, etc, and then return for with the materials for the operation. Circumcisions are done at the clinic for 5,000 Ugh (= ~$2.50).
Another patient, a teenage boy from the “projects” (they have them here too, and after describing to you the conditions of those not living in them, you can imagine what they are like). He complained of a cough that is productive (mucus is expelled) that he has had for 4 days. He has no history of the diseases common here of which this type of cough is a symptom. Something I notice is that patients without an educated background find it difficult to describe their symptoms, due to a small vocabulary. This patient’s eyes are bloodshot and yellow, painful and itching so he is given drops for allergic conjunctivitis. He was then asked if he has a girlfriend and if so, when he last slept with her. He says he does and it was two days ago. Juliet asks if he has been tested for HIV before he had sex with her. He answers no and she offers to give him a test but he refuses, saying he doesn’t want to know whether he is infected or not.
The next patient was a toddler carried in by her mother. The mother laid the child down on the examination table and told us that she had been fine until about 2 weeks ago when she looked weak and fell while walking on the side of the road. Since then, she has not spoken or been able to stand on her feet. The child lay quiet, not reacting to forceful movement of her legs. She has some control over her arm movement but doesn’t seem to have enough energy to initiate any movement. She suddenly moans in pain and then quiets down again. The mother says that the onset was sudden, but Juliet felt that she was not being 100% honest since she told the nurses that she had not gotten all of the immunizations for her child but had then told Juliet that she had. The case was a classic of what I knew about polio and I asked Juliet if that is what is was. She agreed with my diagnosis and we referred the child to an NGO on the other side of town that provides physical therapy for polio victims. As the mother lifted her daughter she was teary-eyed, and the girl, sprawled out over her mothers shoulder began to throw her head from side to side. The behavior suggested a sort of mental deficit – I assume another effect of advanced polio.
I have not yet managed the courage to ask if it is okay to take pictures of patients, but after seeing a case of polio, I asked Juliet if it would be okay if I asked her each time, and she’d tell whether or not it would be a problem. She agreed.
We broke for lunch – rice, potatoes and cabbage. The rest of the day was pretty quiet. I still haven’t met Dr. Wafula, the man with whom I organized my trip, but he is returning from Kampala today and I should meet him tomorrow. I am going to the villages tomorrow to meet with the traditional birth midwives so that should be interesting (gloves and goggles?). I will probably leave here around 5pm and head into town to post this. Then a quiet night I think is in order with the family. Maybe we’ll watch a movie on my laptop (thanks againYoni). Goodnight everyone, and Happy Chanukah!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Days 4/5 - A Jew and a Muzunge
512/20/08
Mulembe! Como ahoora? Grazil. It is now Saturday night, 9pm. I have just arrived back at Anne’s house from the Abayudaya community. On Friday, I went into town with Rasmus (we took bicycle bodas, 200 USh = ~ $0.10) and got on the internet, as you might have guessed from the blog being posted. The internet is slow but inexpensive, about $0.75/hour. We then went to a crafts shop because Rasmus is leaving on Monday and wanted to buy gifts. The things at this little hut are amazing, all one-of-a-kind pieces. Gorgeous crafts of every sort made of ebony grown under the Nile. I left the craftshop to find a boda to take to BCC (the Bushikori Christian Center, the compound on which the clinic is located) and a car honked behind me on the street. I looked inside a there was a black family, all of the boys wearing kippot. The driver introduced himself as Rabbi Gerhsom Sizomu, the rabbi of the Abayudaya, and told me he always became very excited when he sees a man wearing a kippah in Mbale. He offered me a ride to the village but I was not ready so I said goodbye and then took a motorcycle boda from town to BCC. That cost 3000USh = ~$1.50, for a 10 minute ride, and apparently I was ripped off. BCC was closing all of the services except for the clinic for the holiday season, and they had a goodbye lunch. I arrived about an hour before the lunch and saw two patients, simple cases of a cough and malaria. Lunch was interesting. It began with washing hands and getting food; they served rice, crushed-nut sauce, matoke, and a green of some sort. Everyone sat in a classroom of the primary school and then the MC began to speak. He spoke about closing and Christman and family and poverty. Then they broke out into gorgeous African gospel music. They sang for about 10 minutes, and then I had to leave to return to Anne’s in order to make it to the Abayudaya in time for Shabbat. Jon, the BCC driver took me home, I packed, and then took a boda motorcycle to “Semei Kakungulu,” the name of the hill on which the Jews live, named after the founder of the community. The trip began on paves roads, but about 2 minutes into the ride, the road tuned to dirt and rocks. The Abayudaya live in the mountains, and the ride was basically off-roading through hilly mountain roads on the back of a motorcycle for roughly 15 minutes. My driver went too fast so I told him I wouldn’t pay unless he slowed down. That worked. We arrived an hour before Shabbat, my hands numb from holding on to the motorcycle. I was shown to the guesthouse and given my room. The guest house was beautiful (great job Adam) and I finally took a (cold) shower before Shabbat. Staying at the guesthouse as well were two Israeli backpackers, Ohad and Yisrael, and Isaac the manager showed us to the synagogue at around 6:30pm. The synagogue is made of brick and cement. It has a tin roof and on the front is painted something along the lines of “Abayudaya Community, Moses Synagogue, Nabagoya, Uganda.” It is adorned with menorah decorations on the windows, and a beautiful bimah covering. As pre-modern as the synagogue seemed to me, it stood in stark contrast to the majority of homes in the community, most of which are made of sun-dried mud. Women sat on the left of the synagogue, perhaps 12 rows of 3 seats. Men sat in the same style on the right. Shelves on both sides held prayer books and the chumash, the 5 books of the Torah. The men wore a range of clothing, from jeans and torn shirts to suits, and of course knitted kippot of red, black, white and blue. The menorah seemed to be the decoration of choice.
Kabbalat Shabbat, the prayer welcoming in the Sabbath, was sung by Rabbi Gershom and his brother J.J., a musician. Several members of the community played guitars, a cymbal, and a bongo. Once again, the music was unreal. The Hebrew words were sung to African melodies, with natural harmonies from what seemed like specifically selected members of the community, although it was obvious that it was truly just natural. Some psalms were sung in Lugandan, the only word of which I understood was the name of G-d. Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, Rabbi Carlebach – these people were extraordinarily talented musicians. But I’m almost positive that they all had to try. The Africans just sing and enhance each other’s voices with such ease and simplicity and beauty. And to then add to that effect the Lugandan-accented Hebrew, the language of Jews – it was an experience that I know I will not forget. The evening service began with a short discussion led by the rabbi about dreams, and several people offered their dreams for an interpretation by anyone in the community. I found it funny that one boy told of a nightmare he had in which he had a bad voice. I think most people I know at home would dream the opposite. Another man told of a dream in which he went down to the watering hole and the water was very deep. A whirlpool began, driving the water lower and lower into its center, and then suddenly water shot up from the center higher than it began. I decided to throw my neck out there and offered an explanation. I told him that water represents life, and sometimes, in order to bring life to its highest levels, one needs to fall a bit, to recognize the heights that are truly attainable. The rabbi liked that, applying the idea to the poverty of the Abayudaya and life in Africa, but to the height of being members of the Jewish community. I felt good after that. The evening service was then recited and when it ended, the Israelis and I went to the rabbi’s house for Kiddush and Hamotzi, the blessings before the Friday night meal that are customarily made on wine and bread. We sat in his common room and spoke a bit about ourselves. He asked if any of us could read the Torah, and I told him it was the portion that I read for my bar mitzvah, so I could do some. I agreed to read the first three aliyot.
No grapes grow here, and imported wine is unavailable, so the Kiddush is made on the challah, the bread. The young children walked around holding a large bowl and a cup filled with water. Each person washed their hands, as is the custom before eating bread. The rabbi then made Kiddush on the bread and everyone ate some. The Israelis and I said goodnight and returned to the guesthouse where we had rice, greens, cowpeas, potatoes, and some vegetables for dinner (or what is called ”suppa” here). After dinner, we sang a Jewish song, said the blessing after the meal and retreated to our rooms.
I was up a lot of the night because of the heat but managed to stay awake most of the day. We had some fruit and tea for breakfast at 8:30am, then walked up the hill to the synagogue at 9am. More people were at the services than the night before because it is safer to walk during the day. The service was a chanted in a mixture of Hebrew and Lugandan, and African and Western tunes. The rabbi spoke again about dreams before the Torah reading, this time with a Lugandan interpreter repeating everything he said. I read the first three aliyot and when I finished, everyone stood up and sang Mazel Tov U’Siman Tov in celebration of my bar mitzvah anniversary. I was then given the fifth aliyah as well. Ohad, one of the Israelis read the fourth aliyah and Rabbi Gershom read the last few.
I have learned a lot in the past about why certain prayers are said aloud or repeated, the reason usually lying in the fact that not everyone knew the prayers by heart and prior to the widespread availability of prayer books, one individual who knew the prayer or used the only prayer book available would recite the prayer aloud on behalf of the community. Here I was able to see this idea in action, as Rabbi Gershom and a few others led the rest of the community, most of whom were not completely literate in Hebrew. After the Torah was read, the Musaf prayer was recited by everyone silently and then Rabbi Gershom aloud. After the service, everyone took the chairs outside and sat in a large circle on the grass. Lunch was served, potatoes and beans, and the whole community ate together as Rabbi Gershom lead a discussion about the Torah, current politics, and other topics. Some was in Lugandan, some in English. The Israelis and I returned to the guesthouse and slept until the afternoon. There was no minyan for the afternoon service so I prayed in the guesthouse. We sang some Jewish songs with some of the children until the Shabbat ended. We walked to the rabbi’s home where he made havdalah, the blessing separating the Sabbath form the regular week, on beer, again since no wine was available. Ginger was used as the customary smelling spice during the blessing. We spoke to the rabbi for a few minutes about the upcoming holiday of Chanukah, the music festival they will be having with all 8 of the Ugandan Jewish communities next Sunday and then returned to the guesthouse. I took a shower because the water would be only cool instead of freezing, after having been in the sun all day, and then Isaac the manager called a boda motorcycle (that he trusted to drive safely along the mountain roads at night). The ride back was pretty uneventful besides for riding about 40mph on the back of a motorcycle on a dirt mountain road with no light anywhere except our headlight. But I’m getting used to that (no hands this time!). I arrived at Anne’s ate a quick suppa, and schmoozed with the family for a bit. Then I sat to write this. I hope to get to town tomorrow to post this and send some emails for Anne. Sorry for the long post again! Have a good week everyone and I will write again soon!
12/21/08
I slept until 9am this morning! I think I am finally getting used to the sounds of the animals in the mornings. Although I wasn't able to fall asleep until 4am so... Everyone was in church when i woke up so Anna and I came to the Mbale resort for a swim, hot shower, beer and internet. I am here now, sat in the sun a bit, swam a little, and very much looking forward to the hot shower. Very much. I will return to the clinic tomorrow and get back to work. Anna and I are planning a trip to Sipi Falls on Wednesday, so that should be fun! Have a great week everyone and Happy Chanukah!
Mulembe! Como ahoora? Grazil. It is now Saturday night, 9pm. I have just arrived back at Anne’s house from the Abayudaya community. On Friday, I went into town with Rasmus (we took bicycle bodas, 200 USh = ~ $0.10) and got on the internet, as you might have guessed from the blog being posted. The internet is slow but inexpensive, about $0.75/hour. We then went to a crafts shop because Rasmus is leaving on Monday and wanted to buy gifts. The things at this little hut are amazing, all one-of-a-kind pieces. Gorgeous crafts of every sort made of ebony grown under the Nile. I left the craftshop to find a boda to take to BCC (the Bushikori Christian Center, the compound on which the clinic is located) and a car honked behind me on the street. I looked inside a there was a black family, all of the boys wearing kippot. The driver introduced himself as Rabbi Gerhsom Sizomu, the rabbi of the Abayudaya, and told me he always became very excited when he sees a man wearing a kippah in Mbale. He offered me a ride to the village but I was not ready so I said goodbye and then took a motorcycle boda from town to BCC. That cost 3000USh = ~$1.50, for a 10 minute ride, and apparently I was ripped off. BCC was closing all of the services except for the clinic for the holiday season, and they had a goodbye lunch. I arrived about an hour before the lunch and saw two patients, simple cases of a cough and malaria. Lunch was interesting. It began with washing hands and getting food; they served rice, crushed-nut sauce, matoke, and a green of some sort. Everyone sat in a classroom of the primary school and then the MC began to speak. He spoke about closing and Christman and family and poverty. Then they broke out into gorgeous African gospel music. They sang for about 10 minutes, and then I had to leave to return to Anne’s in order to make it to the Abayudaya in time for Shabbat. Jon, the BCC driver took me home, I packed, and then took a boda motorcycle to “Semei Kakungulu,” the name of the hill on which the Jews live, named after the founder of the community. The trip began on paves roads, but about 2 minutes into the ride, the road tuned to dirt and rocks. The Abayudaya live in the mountains, and the ride was basically off-roading through hilly mountain roads on the back of a motorcycle for roughly 15 minutes. My driver went too fast so I told him I wouldn’t pay unless he slowed down. That worked. We arrived an hour before Shabbat, my hands numb from holding on to the motorcycle. I was shown to the guesthouse and given my room. The guest house was beautiful (great job Adam) and I finally took a (cold) shower before Shabbat. Staying at the guesthouse as well were two Israeli backpackers, Ohad and Yisrael, and Isaac the manager showed us to the synagogue at around 6:30pm. The synagogue is made of brick and cement. It has a tin roof and on the front is painted something along the lines of “Abayudaya Community, Moses Synagogue, Nabagoya, Uganda.” It is adorned with menorah decorations on the windows, and a beautiful bimah covering. As pre-modern as the synagogue seemed to me, it stood in stark contrast to the majority of homes in the community, most of which are made of sun-dried mud. Women sat on the left of the synagogue, perhaps 12 rows of 3 seats. Men sat in the same style on the right. Shelves on both sides held prayer books and the chumash, the 5 books of the Torah. The men wore a range of clothing, from jeans and torn shirts to suits, and of course knitted kippot of red, black, white and blue. The menorah seemed to be the decoration of choice.
Kabbalat Shabbat, the prayer welcoming in the Sabbath, was sung by Rabbi Gershom and his brother J.J., a musician. Several members of the community played guitars, a cymbal, and a bongo. Once again, the music was unreal. The Hebrew words were sung to African melodies, with natural harmonies from what seemed like specifically selected members of the community, although it was obvious that it was truly just natural. Some psalms were sung in Lugandan, the only word of which I understood was the name of G-d. Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, Rabbi Carlebach – these people were extraordinarily talented musicians. But I’m almost positive that they all had to try. The Africans just sing and enhance each other’s voices with such ease and simplicity and beauty. And to then add to that effect the Lugandan-accented Hebrew, the language of Jews – it was an experience that I know I will not forget. The evening service began with a short discussion led by the rabbi about dreams, and several people offered their dreams for an interpretation by anyone in the community. I found it funny that one boy told of a nightmare he had in which he had a bad voice. I think most people I know at home would dream the opposite. Another man told of a dream in which he went down to the watering hole and the water was very deep. A whirlpool began, driving the water lower and lower into its center, and then suddenly water shot up from the center higher than it began. I decided to throw my neck out there and offered an explanation. I told him that water represents life, and sometimes, in order to bring life to its highest levels, one needs to fall a bit, to recognize the heights that are truly attainable. The rabbi liked that, applying the idea to the poverty of the Abayudaya and life in Africa, but to the height of being members of the Jewish community. I felt good after that. The evening service was then recited and when it ended, the Israelis and I went to the rabbi’s house for Kiddush and Hamotzi, the blessings before the Friday night meal that are customarily made on wine and bread. We sat in his common room and spoke a bit about ourselves. He asked if any of us could read the Torah, and I told him it was the portion that I read for my bar mitzvah, so I could do some. I agreed to read the first three aliyot.
No grapes grow here, and imported wine is unavailable, so the Kiddush is made on the challah, the bread. The young children walked around holding a large bowl and a cup filled with water. Each person washed their hands, as is the custom before eating bread. The rabbi then made Kiddush on the bread and everyone ate some. The Israelis and I said goodnight and returned to the guesthouse where we had rice, greens, cowpeas, potatoes, and some vegetables for dinner (or what is called ”suppa” here). After dinner, we sang a Jewish song, said the blessing after the meal and retreated to our rooms.
I was up a lot of the night because of the heat but managed to stay awake most of the day. We had some fruit and tea for breakfast at 8:30am, then walked up the hill to the synagogue at 9am. More people were at the services than the night before because it is safer to walk during the day. The service was a chanted in a mixture of Hebrew and Lugandan, and African and Western tunes. The rabbi spoke again about dreams before the Torah reading, this time with a Lugandan interpreter repeating everything he said. I read the first three aliyot and when I finished, everyone stood up and sang Mazel Tov U’Siman Tov in celebration of my bar mitzvah anniversary. I was then given the fifth aliyah as well. Ohad, one of the Israelis read the fourth aliyah and Rabbi Gershom read the last few.
I have learned a lot in the past about why certain prayers are said aloud or repeated, the reason usually lying in the fact that not everyone knew the prayers by heart and prior to the widespread availability of prayer books, one individual who knew the prayer or used the only prayer book available would recite the prayer aloud on behalf of the community. Here I was able to see this idea in action, as Rabbi Gershom and a few others led the rest of the community, most of whom were not completely literate in Hebrew. After the Torah was read, the Musaf prayer was recited by everyone silently and then Rabbi Gershom aloud. After the service, everyone took the chairs outside and sat in a large circle on the grass. Lunch was served, potatoes and beans, and the whole community ate together as Rabbi Gershom lead a discussion about the Torah, current politics, and other topics. Some was in Lugandan, some in English. The Israelis and I returned to the guesthouse and slept until the afternoon. There was no minyan for the afternoon service so I prayed in the guesthouse. We sang some Jewish songs with some of the children until the Shabbat ended. We walked to the rabbi’s home where he made havdalah, the blessing separating the Sabbath form the regular week, on beer, again since no wine was available. Ginger was used as the customary smelling spice during the blessing. We spoke to the rabbi for a few minutes about the upcoming holiday of Chanukah, the music festival they will be having with all 8 of the Ugandan Jewish communities next Sunday and then returned to the guesthouse. I took a shower because the water would be only cool instead of freezing, after having been in the sun all day, and then Isaac the manager called a boda motorcycle (that he trusted to drive safely along the mountain roads at night). The ride back was pretty uneventful besides for riding about 40mph on the back of a motorcycle on a dirt mountain road with no light anywhere except our headlight. But I’m getting used to that (no hands this time!). I arrived at Anne’s ate a quick suppa, and schmoozed with the family for a bit. Then I sat to write this. I hope to get to town tomorrow to post this and send some emails for Anne. Sorry for the long post again! Have a good week everyone and I will write again soon!
12/21/08
I slept until 9am this morning! I think I am finally getting used to the sounds of the animals in the mornings. Although I wasn't able to fall asleep until 4am so... Everyone was in church when i woke up so Anna and I came to the Mbale resort for a swim, hot shower, beer and internet. I am here now, sat in the sun a bit, swam a little, and very much looking forward to the hot shower. Very much. I will return to the clinic tomorrow and get back to work. Anna and I are planning a trip to Sipi Falls on Wednesday, so that should be fun! Have a great week everyone and Happy Chanukah!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Day 3
12/19/08
We left the clinic yesterday at around 4:15pm. 14 people packed into the van and we dropped people off at different points in town (either one of the banks or the post office), and then came back to Anne’s house. Several people came over because Anne, who is the director of the center, has not been feeling well, and everyone wanted to offer any comfort they could. I sat with everyone here for a while. There was some chatting, several people asked about Maital and Adam, but there was plenty of what Americans would call “awkward silences” which didn’t seem awkward at all. I eventually passed out on my bed until dinner, which I ate with Anna the Swede, Rasmus the Danish/German, and his German friend Yen who is doing his civil service duty instead of going to the army by teaching computer classes to kids pulled off the streets in Uganda and put into a program. For dinner we had white rice and some sort of pea/cabbage/onion dish which we, of course, mixed together. I’m really starting to like the simple, to-the-point foods they have here that provide energy without providing obesity. It’s very refreshing actually. After dinner, at around 9pm, Rasmus, Yen and I walked to the Mount Elgon Hotel nextdoor which usually offers internet service and has a few bars. The internet was down (I swear, that was my true purpose in the trip) so we sat at the bar and watched British MTV, which is brutal. I order a “Club” beer and the Germans ordered 4 each. Rasmus and I finished the night with a shot of Bailey’s and then the Germans smoked the obligatory European cigarette before we left. We got back to Anne’s around 12:20am and I went straight to bed. It was strange to me not to shower but that is just the way it is here.
I woke up at 6:30am today and washed up (still no shower! The water is just too cold in the early morning). I then had a banana and tea for breakfast and decided that I was not going to go to the clinic today, but rather take a boda into town and find my way around, buy some bottled water, get to an internet café and post this, and then prepare to go to the Abuyadayya Jewish community for Shabbat. So that is my plan for the day. I think Anna and I are going to plan a trip for sometime next week to go to Sipi Falls which is supposed to be the most beautiful waterfall in the country. The scenery just around town is incredible. It is like we are in this massive valley plain with mountains around us. And because of the dust and hot weather, the mountains are always covered in a fog of some sort, adding to their mystique. It is really quite breathtaking.Anyway, I wish everyone a great weekend, I’m sorry internet has been such a disaster here, and I hope to hear from you soon!
We left the clinic yesterday at around 4:15pm. 14 people packed into the van and we dropped people off at different points in town (either one of the banks or the post office), and then came back to Anne’s house. Several people came over because Anne, who is the director of the center, has not been feeling well, and everyone wanted to offer any comfort they could. I sat with everyone here for a while. There was some chatting, several people asked about Maital and Adam, but there was plenty of what Americans would call “awkward silences” which didn’t seem awkward at all. I eventually passed out on my bed until dinner, which I ate with Anna the Swede, Rasmus the Danish/German, and his German friend Yen who is doing his civil service duty instead of going to the army by teaching computer classes to kids pulled off the streets in Uganda and put into a program. For dinner we had white rice and some sort of pea/cabbage/onion dish which we, of course, mixed together. I’m really starting to like the simple, to-the-point foods they have here that provide energy without providing obesity. It’s very refreshing actually. After dinner, at around 9pm, Rasmus, Yen and I walked to the Mount Elgon Hotel nextdoor which usually offers internet service and has a few bars. The internet was down (I swear, that was my true purpose in the trip) so we sat at the bar and watched British MTV, which is brutal. I order a “Club” beer and the Germans ordered 4 each. Rasmus and I finished the night with a shot of Bailey’s and then the Germans smoked the obligatory European cigarette before we left. We got back to Anne’s around 12:20am and I went straight to bed. It was strange to me not to shower but that is just the way it is here.
I woke up at 6:30am today and washed up (still no shower! The water is just too cold in the early morning). I then had a banana and tea for breakfast and decided that I was not going to go to the clinic today, but rather take a boda into town and find my way around, buy some bottled water, get to an internet café and post this, and then prepare to go to the Abuyadayya Jewish community for Shabbat. So that is my plan for the day. I think Anna and I are going to plan a trip for sometime next week to go to Sipi Falls which is supposed to be the most beautiful waterfall in the country. The scenery just around town is incredible. It is like we are in this massive valley plain with mountains around us. And because of the dust and hot weather, the mountains are always covered in a fog of some sort, adding to their mystique. It is really quite breathtaking.Anyway, I wish everyone a great weekend, I’m sorry internet has been such a disaster here, and I hope to hear from you soon!
Day 2
12/18/08
I didn’t really sleep last night, a mix of the time difference and the animals making noise outside, as well as everyone in the house being awake at 5am to start their chores. I decided at 6:15am to organize my stuff, packing 1 suitcase with all the medical supplies and the other with my clothes, since I split them to begin with in case anything got lost. We lost power in the process but I used my flashlight and whatever sunlight there was. I left my room at 7:15am, said good morning to everyone, and washed up using bottled water for teeth-brushing. I dressed and sat down to breakfast, which was porridge, tea, bananas and eggs. There was bread available with some buttery spread and a fruit jam (both imported from Kenya), but I couldn’t have any because of my wheat allergy. I had plenty of porridge though, with lots of sugar.
At around 8:30 I went back to my room to take a nap before the driver picked me up at 10am to take me to the clinic. This is when I realized why everyone awoke so early. It was too hot to sleep at 8:30am. So I read a bit, wrote a bit, prepared for my day. I met another houseguest named Rasmus who is from Denmark/Germany. The driver came at 9:45am and I loaded my suitcase with the medical supplies and took my backpack with my laptop, notebook, and insect repellant. I put so much of that stuff on but I’m still itching everywhere that is exposed. The clinic was about 5 miles away; we went through town so it took about 15 minutes. The driver, John, was extraordinarily nice. He showed me the post office, the banks, and other destinations in town…well it’s mostly just the post office and banks. The drive from town to the clinic was gorgeous. The scenery is incredible, with mountains and trees of all different kinds. People were everywhere, walking, riding bicycles, driving boda-bodas. It’s hot but still comfortable because it’s so dry.
The clinic is more in need than even I expected. It is difficult to describe the situation without seeing it for oneself. They have “wards” which consist of 3 beds cramped into a room smaller than my own at school. There is a men’s ward, a women’s ward with 6 beds, a pediatric ward and an isolation ward with 2 beds. The maternity ward is in a separate structure (no, not a building, but a structure) and has a single delivery bed, a resting bed and room for the mother and child directly after birth, and then a ward of 3 beds for the next few days. There is a lab, which consists of a microscope and centrifuge. The autoclave is a tiny metal box which looks out of place but it seems to be able to do the job. The only things autoclaved are the single set of tools for deliveries and clothing (lab coats). There is a fridge, about 5 cubic feet, and a freezer, about 3 cubic feet. That is where vaccines and certain drugs are kept and they are administered on Tuesdays in the adjacent room. There is a single reception/examination room, a dispensary for drugs, and a drug stockroom. None of these rooms are larger than 100 square feet. There is a treatment room with 2 beds, where nurses administer drugs. Nurses aides are the gofers, bringing the doctors and nurses all the necessary equipment (or whatever they have that day) from the stockroom and monitoring patients.
I started my day, after a cursory tour, with the CO (clinical officer – the acting doctors in the clinic) Juliet seeing patients in the reception/examination room. Doctor Levert Wafula (also known as Dokta, Levy, or “Levaat”), the doctor with whom Maital and I coordinated this trip is home in Kenya until Saturday (and he took with him the internet…not sure what that means but I’m guessing its some sort of portable modem). So unfortunately I won’t meet him until Sunday and won’t have internet, in the clinic at least, until then. Anyway, there were 6 patients waiting for Juliet. The first patient had a brother who had ringworm; she was given a prescription for the first two weeks of a month-long drug to bring to him. The next patient spoke Lugandan so I didn’t understand anything but I think she had a cold. Oh, it is 12:35pm and the power just came back for the clinic. Next patient was pregnant and is considering an abortion. From what I understood, Juliet talked her out of the abortion and gave her directions to the main hospital’s maternity ward. The next patient was circumcised yesterday. He is 14 years old. The ritual circumcision here takes place on one month every two years, and all boys between the ages of 13-15 are circumcised in front of the community. If they flinch, they are not manly. This patient didn’t flinch. But from the looks of it, he should have. I won’t get graphic but it didn’t look good. The CO, Juliet, re-wrapped the penis in gauze and sent the boy on his way. They cannot dispense antibiotic cream as a preventative measure, not until there in an infection because of the scarcity of the medication. The next patient was a 1-month old baby with pneumonia and malaria. Enough said. The last patient we saw this morning was just a follow-up for a young child. Not sure what went on there. Ugandans speak very softly and it is hard to make out the words, even when in English, because of the accent and soft tone. After seeing the patients, Juliet and I went to the drug room to hang out and we watched WALL-E on my computer (thanks Yoni!) Every so often she is called out of the room and that is when I write this. So that’s where we are now. Today turns out to be a fast day so no lunch was made. So the driver came and offered to pick me up and take me home to eat and rest but I feel like there is more for me to do here today so I am going to stay until 4:30pm. Screw lunch. I’ll have a peanut butter nip instead (thank you Danielle). I will write again soon!
I didn’t really sleep last night, a mix of the time difference and the animals making noise outside, as well as everyone in the house being awake at 5am to start their chores. I decided at 6:15am to organize my stuff, packing 1 suitcase with all the medical supplies and the other with my clothes, since I split them to begin with in case anything got lost. We lost power in the process but I used my flashlight and whatever sunlight there was. I left my room at 7:15am, said good morning to everyone, and washed up using bottled water for teeth-brushing. I dressed and sat down to breakfast, which was porridge, tea, bananas and eggs. There was bread available with some buttery spread and a fruit jam (both imported from Kenya), but I couldn’t have any because of my wheat allergy. I had plenty of porridge though, with lots of sugar.
At around 8:30 I went back to my room to take a nap before the driver picked me up at 10am to take me to the clinic. This is when I realized why everyone awoke so early. It was too hot to sleep at 8:30am. So I read a bit, wrote a bit, prepared for my day. I met another houseguest named Rasmus who is from Denmark/Germany. The driver came at 9:45am and I loaded my suitcase with the medical supplies and took my backpack with my laptop, notebook, and insect repellant. I put so much of that stuff on but I’m still itching everywhere that is exposed. The clinic was about 5 miles away; we went through town so it took about 15 minutes. The driver, John, was extraordinarily nice. He showed me the post office, the banks, and other destinations in town…well it’s mostly just the post office and banks. The drive from town to the clinic was gorgeous. The scenery is incredible, with mountains and trees of all different kinds. People were everywhere, walking, riding bicycles, driving boda-bodas. It’s hot but still comfortable because it’s so dry.
The clinic is more in need than even I expected. It is difficult to describe the situation without seeing it for oneself. They have “wards” which consist of 3 beds cramped into a room smaller than my own at school. There is a men’s ward, a women’s ward with 6 beds, a pediatric ward and an isolation ward with 2 beds. The maternity ward is in a separate structure (no, not a building, but a structure) and has a single delivery bed, a resting bed and room for the mother and child directly after birth, and then a ward of 3 beds for the next few days. There is a lab, which consists of a microscope and centrifuge. The autoclave is a tiny metal box which looks out of place but it seems to be able to do the job. The only things autoclaved are the single set of tools for deliveries and clothing (lab coats). There is a fridge, about 5 cubic feet, and a freezer, about 3 cubic feet. That is where vaccines and certain drugs are kept and they are administered on Tuesdays in the adjacent room. There is a single reception/examination room, a dispensary for drugs, and a drug stockroom. None of these rooms are larger than 100 square feet. There is a treatment room with 2 beds, where nurses administer drugs. Nurses aides are the gofers, bringing the doctors and nurses all the necessary equipment (or whatever they have that day) from the stockroom and monitoring patients.
I started my day, after a cursory tour, with the CO (clinical officer – the acting doctors in the clinic) Juliet seeing patients in the reception/examination room. Doctor Levert Wafula (also known as Dokta, Levy, or “Levaat”), the doctor with whom Maital and I coordinated this trip is home in Kenya until Saturday (and he took with him the internet…not sure what that means but I’m guessing its some sort of portable modem). So unfortunately I won’t meet him until Sunday and won’t have internet, in the clinic at least, until then. Anyway, there were 6 patients waiting for Juliet. The first patient had a brother who had ringworm; she was given a prescription for the first two weeks of a month-long drug to bring to him. The next patient spoke Lugandan so I didn’t understand anything but I think she had a cold. Oh, it is 12:35pm and the power just came back for the clinic. Next patient was pregnant and is considering an abortion. From what I understood, Juliet talked her out of the abortion and gave her directions to the main hospital’s maternity ward. The next patient was circumcised yesterday. He is 14 years old. The ritual circumcision here takes place on one month every two years, and all boys between the ages of 13-15 are circumcised in front of the community. If they flinch, they are not manly. This patient didn’t flinch. But from the looks of it, he should have. I won’t get graphic but it didn’t look good. The CO, Juliet, re-wrapped the penis in gauze and sent the boy on his way. They cannot dispense antibiotic cream as a preventative measure, not until there in an infection because of the scarcity of the medication. The next patient was a 1-month old baby with pneumonia and malaria. Enough said. The last patient we saw this morning was just a follow-up for a young child. Not sure what went on there. Ugandans speak very softly and it is hard to make out the words, even when in English, because of the accent and soft tone. After seeing the patients, Juliet and I went to the drug room to hang out and we watched WALL-E on my computer (thanks Yoni!) Every so often she is called out of the room and that is when I write this. So that’s where we are now. Today turns out to be a fast day so no lunch was made. So the driver came and offered to pick me up and take me home to eat and rest but I feel like there is more for me to do here today so I am going to stay until 4:30pm. Screw lunch. I’ll have a peanut butter nip instead (thank you Danielle). I will write again soon!
The first day
12/17/08
This is the longest blog; I promise they will get shorter but this is about my trip here so it has a lot of details. It is all exciting so take a few minutes and read it! (Judah, if you need to, read a little bit everyday instead of all of it at once. I understand.)
I have now been in Uganda for one day and it has already been a crazy adventure. I flew from New York to Amsterdam on KLM on Monday evening. The flight was delayed an hour and a half because of engine trouble and then being 21st in line for takeoff on the runway. I was seated next to a Dutch-speaking couple who slept the entire trip which was nice except that I was pumped for an adventure already, seeking friends about whom I could write and tell you stories. Luckily, after a 4 hour layover in Amsterdam (another delay due to fog), I was seated on the plane next to a Ugandan Reverend who was pursuing a PhD in theology at the Dallas Theological Seminary and acting as a missionary in Texas as well. He was one of the friendliest people I have ever met, and we spoke about Ugandan culture, the commonalities and differences in our upbringings, and, of course, about G-d. I slept a couple of hours on the flight to Entebbe, but also managed to watch one full movie and then most of another one until they decided to land the plane with about 5 minutes left of it. It must not have been so good though because I honestly, right now I could not tell you what movie it was.
The moment we landed in Entebbe, the most incredible gorgeous song erupted from somewhere behind me on the plane, 30 or so young, vibrant voices singing an African tune. The only words I could make out were “Welcome,” “Uganda,” and “Jesus.” Everyone clapped, smiled, laughed. The excitement of the Ugandans to reach home was contagious. We deboarded the plane by stairs onto the tarmac, and then walked into the airport customs area. I waited on line, bought a visa (US $50), and once again was treated to the most beautiful tunes sung by these 30 young children, now accompanied by dancing. I then picked up my luggage, which all luckily arrived, and made my way outside. I was approached by maybe 8 taxi drivers, selected one, and borrowed his phone to call the friend in Muyenga (I think that’s how its spelled) at who’s house I would be spending the night. She gave him directions and we were on our way to Kampala.
Now driving in Uganda is an adventure unto itself. The wheel is on the right, we drive on the left. The rules seem to be as follows. If you have no headlights, use your brights. If you only have one working bright, use it except when passing anyone else, because they’re working headlights will probably shine enough light for everyone. Also, drive as fast as possible, honk before you pass someone (on the right by swerving into oncoming traffic), and if someone is passing you, slow down so they can swerve back into your lane before being hit by a car driving in the opposite direction. It seems to work.
I arrived at Jen’s in Muyenga at about 11:30pm, and was treated to some wonderful South African mango juice and some water, as well as a steaming hot shower (couldn’t get the cold water to work) and wonderful company until around 2am. I was given my own room with a big bed wrapped in a mosquito net. I slept until midday (that’s what they call noon…thanks Jen!) and then went for a drive with Jen into town where I exchanged my money for Ugandan Schilling. With an exchange rate of 1960 USh to 1 USD, I quickly became a millionaire. With a large wad of cash, I returned to our driver, feeling like I was smuggling something, not letting my bag out of my hands.
We then drove to the main bus park which is a chaotic market of a place. I bought a ticket to Mbale (15,000 USh = ~$7.65) on a bus I thought I wanted, since they told me it was the Mount Elgon Flyer (it wasn’t), and gave someone 20,000 USh to buy me phone airtime. We loaded my bags onto the bus, and I got on at 2pm. Over the next hour, 30 or so people came onto the bus selling water, corn, chicken, chips, sneakers, scarves, shirts, soccer balls, and children’s toys. They would come to me and say “Muzunge, you want wada?” (white man, you want water). I bought 2 600mL bottle of water for 1000USh (= ~$0.51). I was squeezed between two Ugandan men, both very nice and talkative and they offered to help me determine where to get off. On the way out of the bus park, we hit 2 cars, and just kept on driving. We drove through Kampala a bit and then stopped for gas. We then drove a bit more and stopped for food. More people got on the bus and this time sold oven-roasted chicken and meat on a stick (similar to a kabob but everything looked more like the animal than like the meat). We took off again, this time pulling onto the right side of the road in order to avoid the traffic in the left lane. This led to our holding up of all traffic flowing in the opposite direction and we had to pull off onto the right side of the road and drive on the dirt for a mile or two. We finally were let back into the left lane and sat in traffic for about another hour. At some point we started driving fast again and for about 2 hours we drove uninterrupted.
We then were stopped at a police checkpoint. An officer came on, looked at every face in the crowd and then yelled at the bus driver in Lugandan. He pointed to the aisle which was piled high with random goods, and I think he was upset about that. As we pulled away from the checkpoint, we hit a car. Hard hit, nice whiplash, big loud BOOM. The cops looked our way, and then we just kept driving. We passed the Lugazi sugar cane farm, some livestock farms, and gorgeous landscapes of green hills and trees and mountains. It is the pearl of Africa after all.
I got off the bus in Mbale at around 8pm, but at a different place than where I had told my host I would be since I was on the wrong bus. So I called her when I got off and she sent someone to meet me where I was waiting. A muzunge with two big suitcases is an opportunity, and I was constantly approached by young boy after young boy asking me if they could help get me a special hire (taxi) or a boda-boda (motorcycle, comes from border-to-border, a route often taken by motorcycle back in the day). I kept responding “no, no, someone is meeting me.” They respectfully backed off and I finally met up with Joseph 20 minutes later at the clocktower in town. He gave me a big hug and with the biggest smile said “you are welcome.” I replied “thank you.” We hired two boda-boda’s, strapped my two suitcases to one (I wish I had been lucid enough to take a picture), and climbed onto the other. We followed to one with my luggage in order that we could tell him if the luggage was off-balance. After 3 days of travel with very little sleep, I was holding on for dear life. But we made it to Anne’s house (after some stops to rebalance the luggage and some off-roading where necessary), and the guards opened the gates and let us in. Everyone in the home (I don’t yet know who is family and who is not) came out to welcome me, with a double hug from Anne, hugs from the boys and handshakes from the girls. They all kept saying “you are welcome, you are welcome.” I kept responding “thank you, thank you.” I’m pretty sure they meant “Welcome, Welcome” but luckily “thank you” fits the bill as a response either way. There are 2 young girls named Fazira (Faz) and Mary, and there is Joseph who picked me up and Matthew. They also have a woman from Sweden named Anna who is doing her doctorate attachment (thesis) in econometrics (Dan, you’ve got a future here), focusing on developing economies. Anne, Anna and I sat down for dinner and I accidently took a drink too quickly. As soon as I put it down, and took off my hat to reveal my kippah, Anne said to me in a slow, precise English “I know Maital and Adam said grace differently than we do. How would you like to bless the food?” I apologized for drinking too quickly, embarrassingly mumbling that I had whispered a blessing of my own before downing the juice. I answered that I would love to see how they do it, and I would do my own way after. So Anne and Anna bowed their heads and opened their palms. Anne said a beautiful prayer thanking G-d for my safe arrival and for bringing her enough food to feed her guests who bring her such delight. We all answered amen and then helped ourselves to boiled potatoes, beans and onions of some sort, matoke which is steamed plantains (it is bland itself with the texture of slightly undercooked butternut squash but it is eaten mixed with some green and salt, making it substantial and absolutely delicious). The food was wonderful but I was afraid to eat too much after not having really eaten in 2 days. I took a shower after dinner (no hot water this time) and came to the conclusion that this just won’t be the cleanest 3 weeks of my life, a fact about which I am perfectly happy. As I learned on the bus, cleanliness and smell is not of utmost priority here, and it’s nice to change values for a small time. I was given a room with two beds, a mosquito net, and 1 outlet. I called my parents to tell them I was alive and lay in my bed, tucking the mosquito net under the mattress. I woke up at around 3:30am, wide awake and unable to sleep, so I read a bit and now I am writing to you. I hear the chickens and dogs outside welcoming in the morning (I can almost hear the chickens saying “you are welcome, you are welcome”). I hope I can sleep a bit more (it’s now 5:15am) before my day gets going, but I am excited to see the clinic and deliver all the supplies you have all sent with me. I will hopefully have internet soon in order to post this and I look forward to hearing back from you! Email me at jrothwax@gmail.com!!
This is the longest blog; I promise they will get shorter but this is about my trip here so it has a lot of details. It is all exciting so take a few minutes and read it! (Judah, if you need to, read a little bit everyday instead of all of it at once. I understand.)
I have now been in Uganda for one day and it has already been a crazy adventure. I flew from New York to Amsterdam on KLM on Monday evening. The flight was delayed an hour and a half because of engine trouble and then being 21st in line for takeoff on the runway. I was seated next to a Dutch-speaking couple who slept the entire trip which was nice except that I was pumped for an adventure already, seeking friends about whom I could write and tell you stories. Luckily, after a 4 hour layover in Amsterdam (another delay due to fog), I was seated on the plane next to a Ugandan Reverend who was pursuing a PhD in theology at the Dallas Theological Seminary and acting as a missionary in Texas as well. He was one of the friendliest people I have ever met, and we spoke about Ugandan culture, the commonalities and differences in our upbringings, and, of course, about G-d. I slept a couple of hours on the flight to Entebbe, but also managed to watch one full movie and then most of another one until they decided to land the plane with about 5 minutes left of it. It must not have been so good though because I honestly, right now I could not tell you what movie it was.
The moment we landed in Entebbe, the most incredible gorgeous song erupted from somewhere behind me on the plane, 30 or so young, vibrant voices singing an African tune. The only words I could make out were “Welcome,” “Uganda,” and “Jesus.” Everyone clapped, smiled, laughed. The excitement of the Ugandans to reach home was contagious. We deboarded the plane by stairs onto the tarmac, and then walked into the airport customs area. I waited on line, bought a visa (US $50), and once again was treated to the most beautiful tunes sung by these 30 young children, now accompanied by dancing. I then picked up my luggage, which all luckily arrived, and made my way outside. I was approached by maybe 8 taxi drivers, selected one, and borrowed his phone to call the friend in Muyenga (I think that’s how its spelled) at who’s house I would be spending the night. She gave him directions and we were on our way to Kampala.
Now driving in Uganda is an adventure unto itself. The wheel is on the right, we drive on the left. The rules seem to be as follows. If you have no headlights, use your brights. If you only have one working bright, use it except when passing anyone else, because they’re working headlights will probably shine enough light for everyone. Also, drive as fast as possible, honk before you pass someone (on the right by swerving into oncoming traffic), and if someone is passing you, slow down so they can swerve back into your lane before being hit by a car driving in the opposite direction. It seems to work.
I arrived at Jen’s in Muyenga at about 11:30pm, and was treated to some wonderful South African mango juice and some water, as well as a steaming hot shower (couldn’t get the cold water to work) and wonderful company until around 2am. I was given my own room with a big bed wrapped in a mosquito net. I slept until midday (that’s what they call noon…thanks Jen!) and then went for a drive with Jen into town where I exchanged my money for Ugandan Schilling. With an exchange rate of 1960 USh to 1 USD, I quickly became a millionaire. With a large wad of cash, I returned to our driver, feeling like I was smuggling something, not letting my bag out of my hands.
We then drove to the main bus park which is a chaotic market of a place. I bought a ticket to Mbale (15,000 USh = ~$7.65) on a bus I thought I wanted, since they told me it was the Mount Elgon Flyer (it wasn’t), and gave someone 20,000 USh to buy me phone airtime. We loaded my bags onto the bus, and I got on at 2pm. Over the next hour, 30 or so people came onto the bus selling water, corn, chicken, chips, sneakers, scarves, shirts, soccer balls, and children’s toys. They would come to me and say “Muzunge, you want wada?” (white man, you want water). I bought 2 600mL bottle of water for 1000USh (= ~$0.51). I was squeezed between two Ugandan men, both very nice and talkative and they offered to help me determine where to get off. On the way out of the bus park, we hit 2 cars, and just kept on driving. We drove through Kampala a bit and then stopped for gas. We then drove a bit more and stopped for food. More people got on the bus and this time sold oven-roasted chicken and meat on a stick (similar to a kabob but everything looked more like the animal than like the meat). We took off again, this time pulling onto the right side of the road in order to avoid the traffic in the left lane. This led to our holding up of all traffic flowing in the opposite direction and we had to pull off onto the right side of the road and drive on the dirt for a mile or two. We finally were let back into the left lane and sat in traffic for about another hour. At some point we started driving fast again and for about 2 hours we drove uninterrupted.
We then were stopped at a police checkpoint. An officer came on, looked at every face in the crowd and then yelled at the bus driver in Lugandan. He pointed to the aisle which was piled high with random goods, and I think he was upset about that. As we pulled away from the checkpoint, we hit a car. Hard hit, nice whiplash, big loud BOOM. The cops looked our way, and then we just kept driving. We passed the Lugazi sugar cane farm, some livestock farms, and gorgeous landscapes of green hills and trees and mountains. It is the pearl of Africa after all.
I got off the bus in Mbale at around 8pm, but at a different place than where I had told my host I would be since I was on the wrong bus. So I called her when I got off and she sent someone to meet me where I was waiting. A muzunge with two big suitcases is an opportunity, and I was constantly approached by young boy after young boy asking me if they could help get me a special hire (taxi) or a boda-boda (motorcycle, comes from border-to-border, a route often taken by motorcycle back in the day). I kept responding “no, no, someone is meeting me.” They respectfully backed off and I finally met up with Joseph 20 minutes later at the clocktower in town. He gave me a big hug and with the biggest smile said “you are welcome.” I replied “thank you.” We hired two boda-boda’s, strapped my two suitcases to one (I wish I had been lucid enough to take a picture), and climbed onto the other. We followed to one with my luggage in order that we could tell him if the luggage was off-balance. After 3 days of travel with very little sleep, I was holding on for dear life. But we made it to Anne’s house (after some stops to rebalance the luggage and some off-roading where necessary), and the guards opened the gates and let us in. Everyone in the home (I don’t yet know who is family and who is not) came out to welcome me, with a double hug from Anne, hugs from the boys and handshakes from the girls. They all kept saying “you are welcome, you are welcome.” I kept responding “thank you, thank you.” I’m pretty sure they meant “Welcome, Welcome” but luckily “thank you” fits the bill as a response either way. There are 2 young girls named Fazira (Faz) and Mary, and there is Joseph who picked me up and Matthew. They also have a woman from Sweden named Anna who is doing her doctorate attachment (thesis) in econometrics (Dan, you’ve got a future here), focusing on developing economies. Anne, Anna and I sat down for dinner and I accidently took a drink too quickly. As soon as I put it down, and took off my hat to reveal my kippah, Anne said to me in a slow, precise English “I know Maital and Adam said grace differently than we do. How would you like to bless the food?” I apologized for drinking too quickly, embarrassingly mumbling that I had whispered a blessing of my own before downing the juice. I answered that I would love to see how they do it, and I would do my own way after. So Anne and Anna bowed their heads and opened their palms. Anne said a beautiful prayer thanking G-d for my safe arrival and for bringing her enough food to feed her guests who bring her such delight. We all answered amen and then helped ourselves to boiled potatoes, beans and onions of some sort, matoke which is steamed plantains (it is bland itself with the texture of slightly undercooked butternut squash but it is eaten mixed with some green and salt, making it substantial and absolutely delicious). The food was wonderful but I was afraid to eat too much after not having really eaten in 2 days. I took a shower after dinner (no hot water this time) and came to the conclusion that this just won’t be the cleanest 3 weeks of my life, a fact about which I am perfectly happy. As I learned on the bus, cleanliness and smell is not of utmost priority here, and it’s nice to change values for a small time. I was given a room with two beds, a mosquito net, and 1 outlet. I called my parents to tell them I was alive and lay in my bed, tucking the mosquito net under the mattress. I woke up at around 3:30am, wide awake and unable to sleep, so I read a bit and now I am writing to you. I hear the chickens and dogs outside welcoming in the morning (I can almost hear the chickens saying “you are welcome, you are welcome”). I hope I can sleep a bit more (it’s now 5:15am) before my day gets going, but I am excited to see the clinic and deliver all the supplies you have all sent with me. I will hopefully have internet soon in order to post this and I look forward to hearing back from you! Email me at jrothwax@gmail.com!!
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