unifat school

Day 12 – Matt R

Posted on by Unified for Uganda

This doesn’t seem real. It seems like yesterday we were all taking pictures with our family getting ready to go through security. Since then, we’ve been on a safari, we’ve seen some of the most impoverished homes on the planet, we’ve experienced grade school and high school in the Ugandan culture, we’ve slept on straw mats and mosquito nets, and we’ve created life-changing relationships. It’s hard to believe that tomorrow morning we’ll begin our journey back to America. But I’m not going to think about that now. What matters is the lasting impression that we will leave in Uganda and the memories that we will cherish forever.

As a group, this morning was the last time we would see UNIFAT’s morn ing assembly. The children did some marching, sang songs, and listened to the daily announcements just like the previous mornings. Even though the day was just getting started, I could tell it was going to be significantly different than the others.

I had a great conversation with the mentors this morning about inspirational quotes and traditional African proverbs. I have been trying to find a good quote or phrase in Acholi to live by after the trip has ended. Not only will this phrase serve me as a guide on how I should live my life, but it will also be a constant reminder of the two weeks that I lived in Gulu. After talking with Denis, Jenifer, Emmy, and Mugisha, I still could not find a phrase that “clicked.” While I was looking at some of the phrases the mentors wrote down for me, Connie came into the mentors office and told us to come outside. The kindergartners were about to give us a presentation. This may not be the most “manly” thing to say, but these kids were freaking adorable. The kids sang songs and had hand motions for all the words. It brought me back to the night we stayed in Pece when the kids who were living there sang songs and performed dances for us. I would much rather listen to these kids sing than listen to any artist on the radio in America. I swear it’s the most beautiful music I’ve heard in my life. Little did we know that this would only be the start of a fun day with plenty of other presentations at UNIFAT.

Around 2pm, a boy with a stick hit a metal tire to let the students know it was time for the fun part of their school day to begin. Each grade level had their own unique performance, whether it was a song, dance, or presentation of a gift, it was all interesting to see these people give us gifts when we know they have so little. It makes us all realize how amazing and generous the people of Uganda really are.

After the great performances by the students of UNIFAT, it appeared that the rumors of a rematch of our previous soccer game had come true. Opiyo Denis gave us our Moeller Crusader jerseys and the Munos were determined to win this time against the P7 soccer team. To our surprise, the game was pretty close throughout. The game was tied at one when I somehow ended up with the ball right in front of the goal with the goalie nowhere to be seen. The goal was wide open. All I had to do was tap it in…but no. Muscle memory kicked in and I kicked the soccer ball the exact same way I would kick a football. I felt like I hit a great ball, but when I looked up, the ball was soaring over the net. When I walked over to the sideline, an older UNIFAT faculty member named David told me that I should kick the ball lower. “Great advice,” I thought to myself. The final score ended up being three to two, UNIFAT coming out on top once again.

The soccer game had ended, and so had our time at UNIFAT. It was a combination of feelings that I had never really experienced before. We were all so happy about how much fun we had playing the soccer game, but at the same time we were all so sad saying our final goodbyes. I looked at UNIFAT, took a mental picture, and turned my back. It was definitely a sad moment, but we would soon be able to talk about our two weeks of experience with the group over our last meal of Ugandan food for dinner.

I sat next to Denis at dinner and he started spitting out some other phrases and traditional proverbs. Clearly, he had been thinking of our conversation we had earlier this morning. When I couldn’t find a phrase that really made sense to me, Denis told me that maybe I should only be looking for one word to live by instead of a phrase. I asked him what he meant by that and he said that he would give me an Acholi name with a great meaning behind it. After thinking about it all dinner and having a long conversation with Connie and Kelly, Denis told me he had chosen an Acholi name for me. Opwonya. Opwonya Matthew. I was told that Opwonya means that I am someone who is willing to learn a lot, and ultimately, learn much about myself and my role in life. Connie had the perfect explanation of why this name fit me so perfectly. Looking at the past ten months of my life, I have learned so much about myself and have changed as a person. More specifically, looking at the past weeks of my life, I have changed as a person entirely. Coming into this trip, I thought I knew who I was, but I was far from it. After a few nervous breakdowns and realizations, I discovered who I really am. I have learned to think in a more global manner, to live in the moment, to have no worries, to have no expectations, to have no disappointments, and to make the intentional choice to be happy.

On the first night we spent in Entebbe, I was in the middle of having my first nervous breakdown when a girl from Belgium came out of a tent on the compound and sat down next to me and Will. Her name was Marjon. She jumped into the conversation and explained that she was traveling around the different countries of Africa for six months…by herself. So naturally, I asked her if she ever felt lonely. Marjon replied, “You have to try really hard if you want to feel alone in Uganda.” At the time, it was hard to fully grasp what she meant, but after these past two weeks, I finally know exactly what she was trying to tell me. I hope that I’ve made it clear by now that the people here are extremely generous and welcoming. Thats what I’m going to miss the most. Although it is sad to leave here, there is a silver lining. Leaving Uganda has given us the privilege of having unlimited knowledge about the lives of these kids. And for me personally, I will never waste something like that. So let there be peace on Earth, and let it start with Uganda.

Day 11 – William

Posted on by Unified for Uganda

Quiet. Irrevocable stillness that is occasionally broken with the subtle clicks and clucks of the chickens as they pass by the window. I hone my senses to the immediate room in which the group lies and I hear nothing. I check my cell phone, my only connection back to a “modern world” and it reads 5:45am. I decide now is a good time as any to start the day after a restless night. The start of a cold, the hard ground, the infrequent wailings of hungry babies and the persistent calls to relieve myself because of too much water consumed the previous night; all distractions to my sleep.

My mind wanders to the previous days, the whirlwind of a trip up to this moment comes into focus; early mornings and late nights. Days packed with activities and never enough time for reflection. Traveling from this place to that place, trying to decide on where to eat, and the constant struggle to buy enough fabric to sustain all the creative ideas for fundraising. And that is why, I think to myself, this time is so special; time spent in the village.

Time spent in nature, among animals and eating good local food. To reach this sanctuary one must take a long walk through small town centers roasting fresh maize and beautiful scenery dotted with grass-thatched huts, banana tress and small flowing tributaries. And now we are to return, today, Sunday. The time thus far has been entirely relaxing and rejuvenating. I pull myself from my thoughts and crawl out of the single sheet I used to cover myself. I pack away the wad of two t-shirts that served as my pillow and head for the sitting room. Kara soon follows and we lounge around on the simply made couches in the sitting room, falling in and out of sleep, I imagine trying to reclaim lost sleep. The children are up and moving around. I walk outside after a few minutes to relieve myself and am immediately “greeted” with the word “stop!” and a hand cocked back holding a makeshift ball crafted from plastic bags and dirt. The games have begun, not minutes passed 6:00am.

I throw up my hands and say in a groggy, deep, sleep deprived voice “amito ceto coron” (I need/want to go to the toilet). The hand withdraws and the child starts the search for the next target. Hot water, tealeaves, bread, butter, and sugar is waiting in the sitting room when I return. Making tea for Kara and I gives my mind something to do instead of wandering to sleep. The morning begins slowly, as I imagine most mornings in the village do. The acuteness that one observes as the earth wakes up is an experience cherished. As the sun rose and the heat of the day announced itself, the students slowly shuffled in where the tea was waiting.

The day seems to pass slower than normal, as some are anxious to take the walk back to town where their seemingly simple accommodations are now greatly coveted. The students linger in and out of the house, playing with the kids, helping with chores, and taking a part in the preparation of our lunch to come. I embrace the laziness of the morning as a useless ploy to slow down the little time remaining in the village. I pass the time with multiple rounds of euchre and laughter with Kara, Jake, Kristi and Kelly.

After a short while, Kelly and most of the group leaves to help fetch water as a few others and myself remain behind. The goats are selected, two young ones, and checked for illnesses before being slaughtered. But wait! We have to wait for the students that went to the borehole to return so we, together, can witness the controlled carnage; a bonding experience.

They return after some good time (a local English phrase for a long time) and we immediately urge them to hurry up and put down their 20L jerry cans so the goat can be slaughtered.

The goat has the rope around its neck removed, while Ouma Michael holds its front and back legs tight and high, belly up. The local “butcher” holds its mouth closed and starts to cut, careful not to miss the main artery that passes through the neck, as blood spills, squirts and gushes into a previously placed bowl below. The deed is done and the second goat, tied to a tree nearby, starts calling out in vain, his shouts going unanswered. The deed is repeated. Both are then strung up by their back legs on a nearby limb with their half cut necks dangling towards the ground. They are subsequently skinned, gutted, and sliced up into the appropriate pieces of meat. Lea helps out and is assigned organs. Lunch is ready two short hours later. Everyone immediately serves and consumes more food than is healthy for a group of that size to eat. I give the word to pack up and within thirty minutes we are standing in the middle of the expansive front grass, halfway between the main house and the forest that defines the edge of the front grass. The day is late and the sun has started its descent.

With a final loving look back, we move down the shaded lane that leads to the main dirt road. We stop. Someone forgot to pick up the gift that some neighbors had given us once they caught word of our coming. Hector runs back to the house and returns with a traditional woven shallow bowl. We set out again. Back through the small town centers roasting fresh maize, the beautiful scenery and the grass-thatched huts strewed alongside the road. The sun is hot and the scattered clouds offer no relief. The conversation is light but anticipatory of our arrival in town. A strong smell enters my nose carrying an aroma that is the equivalent of smoked mesquite barbeque but without the sweetness or meat smell. Someone is burning a local grass, instantly recognizable. I look to my left and spot a faint white smoke far in the distant.

Returning seems to always be shorter than the going and this holds true for our return trip. We reach town before we know it, before I’m ready, and are greeted by the frequent beeps of motorcycles and dated hip-hop music. Upon reaching the hotel, the students don’t hesitate in showering (no one showered from the village) before we all sit down and recount our memorable time in the village. A quiet, peaceful place…truthfully Acholi.

Day 10 – Hector

Posted on by Unified for Uganda

Today was the day, the day we would be making the walk to Pece. But before i get to that let me tell you about the morning. It started around 9 which is pretty early for a Saturday, well basically anytime before 11 on a Saturday is early for me these days. The morning started with what was supposed to be the last time we would be going shopping for any last minute gifts, personal items, or Merchandise that the chapters needed so on to the market we went. The market was lined with shops one next to the other selling different nick-nacks, trinkets, and fabrics. The ladies of the group were their shopping for the fabrics to do who knows what with but they had plenty to choose from. as we walked through the market, the ladies stopped at almost every fabric shop until they found the perfect color and material. The lesson learned here is whether in Uganda or back in America, when it comes to shopping girls will be girls.

As the hour passed a group of us decided to go to a craft shop down the road that we had stopped at earlier in the week. On the way their I was experiencing the culture first hand as the people of Gulu were out and about mingling, relaxing and just enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. people out side of their shops chatting with friends, listening to music or doing some cleaning of their store fronts. As we arrived to at the store the front was step area was covered with different hand made instruments including drums, flutes and what looked like a guitar. Inside the walls were covered form floor to ceiling with coffee mugs, jewelry boxes, key chains and anything else you could think of all being hand made. It was amazing to think that the people she gets these items do this every day, and enjoy doing it. After a good while of looking at everything, or at least trying to look at everything, everyone purchased something and on we went back to the hotel to get ready for the trip to Pece.

Getting ready was pretty easy because we would only be there for two days and one night. With every one packed and water in hand we began the walk to Pece. As we began our walk we first had to first stop at Abitimos home here in Gulu to get the kids and Sheila who we would be walking their with. It was around two thirty in the afternoon when we finally left her home and boy was it hot. The sun was at its peak beating down on us, only the occasional cloud passing in front to relieve us from its scorching rays.  As we walked we passed by Gulu University, small campus where about five thousand students attend. There were about six buildings all very simple, not exceeding more then about two floors. As we pass,a couple of students exit what seems to be the library, both are all smiles and are just enjoying each others company and the day itself.

As we walk on we turn onto a more remote road with only a a car passing here and their. In a moment of thirst I reach for my water and stop to look at what is around and in my amazement I miss my mouth. I was looking at the vast country side of Uganda, lined with small trees, bushes, mud huts filled with women working children playing and everyone enjoying themselves that Saturday afternoon. After about two ours of walking we finally reached our destination, Abitimos home in Pece.

The children that we walked with yelled and greeted other kids that lived there. Some of the cooks that work at UNIFAT were there to greet us as the prepared our dinner. As I walked into the home I noticed the simplicity of it all, only having a two rooms, a living room, a bathroom, and storage room. There was no running water into the house and no electricity either which at first baffled me but then I came tot he realization of what this trip to Pece was about, to be able to join the community and  live the simple life for a day. It seemed that after this realization all worries seemed to just melt away. As I sat outside, I watched the kids run around, playing with one another, and the women chatting up a storm just like I have seen through out the day. It is the way of life here in Uganda, no distractions that social media and technology bring to our lives and away from the people that are in front of us. The people here are so genuine when they ask how your day is going or how you are, they want to here about it which is different from just saying it in passing as many of us Americans do. This genuine intrigue is due to the simple life that many of people live in, enjoying every moment of their days free of distractions.

I find it ironic that as I write about the simple life and simple living that many of the people live in and I am here typing this blog on a computer. I am able to appreciate the people of Uganda more for the fact that they don’t need the newest iPhone or latest gaming console to be enjoy life, all they need is each other.