I realize that I only post entries that were inspired by extremely stressful days, or emotional learning moments. I haven’t been able to share my experience as fully as I could, and so I copy and pasted one entry from my personal journal to share the daily experience of living in rural Uganda. Life here is culturally different from life back home, but the realities of living in Africa is nothing like the images which we are exposed to on Western media and charity campaigns.
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12:20pm Kindergarten
Now that our kindergarten has only registered students, 3-5 years old, it’s been going much better. These kids who were too young and shy to speak out when 30 other older kids were in the classroom are now able to show their interest and excitement when they’ve accomplished something. One really notices the difference between the 3 year olds and the 5 year olds. The children are all excited to be participating, getting a chance to learn English, muluzungu, and all try their very best. It’s also obvious that the kids are able to share with other students their artwork, talking to each other and learning with each other in the kindergarten environment. These kids are learning valuable skills in
We have around 11 children now. We teach them how to write the alphabet, how to count in Lunyole and English, and also try to give them fun things to do. Stephanie’s come up with some brilliant ideas, the children are all really engaged with everything, though some get mischievous and sly.
Esekenire! I am finished! The kids are so cute, proudly showing us their finished artwork, the little cutout versions of themselves. Jebale! Well done! The children beam.
3:45pm the afternoon rain
The sky darkens, and a cool breeze refreshes the sweaty afternoon. The clouds roll in casually, not intrusively this afternoon, and begin to sprinkle the dusty ground with cold droplets of water. The light drizzling wafts a clean smell into the library, and I am no longer drowsy with sleep. It smells like home, like a light rainy day in Vancouver.
The children who were playing on the dirt roads, some lying lazily in the afternoon cool, suddenly disappear into the houses. Whether they were called in to help with chores, or if they were called in by their parents, I do not know… it doesn’t seem like a Ugandan to escape the rain by seeking shelter. Today is unusually quiet, anyway, no goats are baa-ing by the library entrance, and no cows are moo-ing with restlessness. Chicken walk around quietly, and even the children are milder today. As the rain patters down with increasing strength, I see an older woman walking home at a brisk pace, with her veil tiede around her shoulder to keep in warmth. As she walks by, I see that the veil was tied to cover the head of the baby strapped to her back, to shelter it from the cold rain. I see school children walking along the same road, less bothered by the rain considering they do not have babies tied to their backs, and they don’t have a household to rush home to feed. Still, they walk faster than the usual afternoon drawl. A man bikes by on his rickety bicycle, followed by two teenagers sharing a cycle home from school. The all stare curiously at me, as I type away in the magic of the rainy moment, at peace with this calm rain. I am engrossed in this moment, moved by the voice of Melody Gardot, reminded of home. The reminder of home somehow allows me appreciate this moment even more; this is home away from home.
The rain lazily passes by, but returns with a full, sly, force accompanied by stronger winds. The town picks up its energy, seeing no use in wasting time escaping the rain. People ride by on the roads, on their way to the town center. Or perhaps, the rain just caught the afternoon lull, and it wasn’t the rain that caused the lull.
7:24pm
The soft hum of the crickets pulse in the evening air. It’s a cool night, peaceful after the afternoon storm. The air is clean, and the mood is light; we are all lounging in our living room, Stephanie wrapped up in her blanket, Hannali seated comfortably in her couch, and me cozy in my UBC hoodie and fern PJ pants. We spent our evening reading, and I finished the Harry Potter book that I started this morning. What a delightful read, so full of gorgeous imagery and extraordinary scenes.
It’s been one of those satisfying days, a good day as we like to call it. I haven’t felt so at peace with myself since we arrived here. Our home is cozy: there are barely any bugs, and it isn’t hot and humid as it was last night. Theis week will be another short one, because we leave early on Friday morning for Entebbe for our mid- session retreat. It’ll be a nice break, far away from Busolwe and Mugulu, and it’s come at a good time. We have just settled well into our house, and it’s appropriate during this time to retreat and reflect on what we’ve been doing.
In Vancouver, I do a lot of planning and anticipating. I look forward months ahead at a time, always trying to fulfill a desire to accomplish something greater than just school. Dad always insists that I should focus on school first, and other things second to it, but I am always drawn towards opportunities and new experiences. Here in Africa, I’ve never felt so content with living in the moment. I have so much to absorb, and have learned so much in such a short time by just living my everyday life here. I will miss this peace when I am back in Vancouver, though I suspect it might be something I will take away from this experience. I am more sure of what I want to do than ever. Education is my passion, and my goal is to be as best of an educator as I can be, and touch as many students’ lives as I possibly can.