Tag: rural life

Purpose and meaning

After four hours of a terribly stressful dream about losing my cool as a classroom teacher, I woke up to three alarms that S and I had set the previous night. We caught the 6a.m. bus that took us to the ferry terminal, and arrived in Gibsons, B.C. for our morning presentation at Cedar Grove Elementary School.

When we were in Uganda planning the kindergarten project, we had no resources to jump- start the vision. Our community in Busolwe wanted to establish a school that was attached to the library, and our role in the project was to design a guiding curriculum and present a budget to the Board of Directors of the library association so that they would endorse the plan. S. Sammartino contacted her mother who is a kindergarten teacher on the sunshine coast, and students raised enough money to purchase wood and hire a local carpenter who made the desks and chairs. After our departure, the Busolwe library community interviewed and hired teachers from the capital city, and with a surge in enrolment the school population was close to 200 students in its first year!

Our first fundraiser presentation last year raised over $500 Cdn and that went towards supplying and creating 5 additional classroom spaces for students in K-7. Today’s presentation was a virtual tour through our classroom, and the students were amazed by the great impact that their small coin contributions had made.

Following our presentation, teachers had booked us to come into their classrooms to debrief with the students. Last year we had spoken to all the intermediate students, so this year we visited all the primary classrooms. Students asked us what kind of food we ate, what languages are spoken in Uganda, how far the community was, and why did we name it Mango Grove school. It was amazing to share with the students their wonders and personal connections to this community of students halfway across the world.

It was extremely touching to speak to teachers and other workers in the school about why we still do this on the side of our busy lives. On our ferry ride home, I remarked that it felt like we were leading two lives. For me, this was one busy student teacher life; for Stephanie one busy counselor life; for Hannali one busy life of an aspiring diplomat. It was powerful to watch the video of our simple presentation. Although Busolwe still has many areas in which they are developing, the students who now attend Busolwe Mango Grove have become part of our lives. In a way, we have become international development workers without having anticipated so. Though we have our individual aspirations driven by our passions for education/counseling/international relations, our paths are woven together in this particular segment of our lives.

I am so blessed to have such loving, caring, big- hearted friends who believe in the potential impact of small actions in kindness and hope. At the end of extremely stressful or discouraging days, I remind myself that as long as my actions are grounded in purpose and meaning, any bad day will pass. On the whole, I have made a difference, however small.

“To the world, you may only be one person; but to one person, you could mean the world.”

Tags Africa, B.C., Busolwe, Canada, city life, development, education, friendships, growth, hope, inspiration, life, passion, rural life, Teacher, UBC

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entropy

There is always a pattern among even the most chaotic situations. It took us a month to accustom to the busy bustle of the towns and ‘cities’. Though it was intimidating at first, I realized that the hustle bustle was mostly due to the fact that there are so many people, and the busy atmosphere is really just a flurry of activity from all those individuals packed in a small space. What seemed odd merely a month ago is now something normal, even something to take comfort in. Every swerve on the streets, whether on the matatu’s, in a truck, or on a bike, is carefully calculated though it feels the complete opposite. When people yell in the taxi parks, Kampala, Kampala! Butaleja! Soroti! Jinja! Hey Muzungu, Kampala Kampala??! it is a normal occurrence, perfectly polite and in line with what their job is for—to me during our first visit to Mbale, every yell was an assault, as if they were all pouncing and pushing and vying for us to get onto their bus, no, that bus, no that one… etc.,… but now every yell, every approach is calmly dismissed if they don’t shout the destination I want. Who am I to blame them for the assumption that we are headed to Kampala? We are foreigners, after all, what business do they know we have in the small towns? I am fairly sure of the fact that we are all primed to be on guard in any new situation, more alert and sensitive to comments and actions from those who we are unfamiliar with. Unfair assumptions on my part have helped me deal with the situation during that time, but it took reflection and discussion with my team mates to realize that those assumptions were not truth.

While men jostled to get us onto their matatus, beggar children begged for alms, and men leered at us, I thought that they were just rude people in general, trying to get the most out of any mzungu they see. In hindsight, and having followed the same weekend routine for the past month, I’ve come to realize that all this activity is simply a way of life for them. It isn’t anything out of the ordinary—though I felt like everyone treated us mzungus with extra attention (and ulterior motives), in reality they treated all potential customers in the same way. Knowing that I am extra self- conscious, and also more sensitive, I’ve learned to sit back, breathe, and just observe. I keep the assumptions popping into my mind at bay, so that I limit my anxiety, and also maximize my learning in the new environment. It’s easier to notice the pattern of life in a new culture by exercising patience, accommodation, and to distance oneself from quick judgment of others.

Tags Africa, cultures, familiarity, life, reflection, rural life, Uganda

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Boundaries

(May 22, 2011)

In the most recent semester leading up to our placement, we had many conversations about the ethics of development work. Specifically, we went through several situations that could arise, and even role played to gauge our understanding and critical thinking skills. Despite how much preparation we had, it was definitely not the same as the actual experience of being confronted with an ethical situation.

There are several kids on our compound who live with their families. I grew fond of this one little girl who was always eager to learn her alphabet and practice her spelling. Plus, she has an amazing sense of responsibility and always seemed honest. These couple days, I’ve noticed that some of the homestead kids had been asking for more and more things. They would come in and ask for snacks, becoming bolder and taking more each day. Today, the aforementioned girl, C, came up to me and explained, “I am starting school again tomorrow, and I don’t have a book or a pencil”. First thing that went through my head was the fact that books and pencils are essential things for a child to have, how can I refuse it?

Our team of three has been really in sync during our placement so far, and we usually are on the same page as things. What makes us work well together is the fact that we can talk to each other about almost everything, and we always have each other’s backs. When I was confronted by C for some school supplies, I gave her a temporary answer, ‘I don’t have any for you, but you can go to the library and ask Ivan the librarian’. It’s true, I didn’t have a book specifically for her. We didn’t bring anything specifically for anyone—we are here to help the community at a higher level than just simple, ineffective aid. I hoped that directing her to a local community center (library) would be the best bet for now. Plus, we worked at the library, and would be able to see how things progressed. Still unsure about what I answered her, I talked to Hannali behind closed doors when she came into the house, and we agreed that it was the proper thing to say to her. We also agreed to not think too much into it, that maybe C was just bringing it up sort of curiously, as if asking casually, ‘do you happen to have a book or pencil for me?’. So we left it at that.

We three girls joined in the living room to recollect our thoughts of the day, as we usually do, and so Hannali and I brought up the small incident. We started to go through our collective memories and came up with several instances where she would do extra chores for us, or be extra sweet, then ask for a treat like chocolate or candy. Then, Hannali brought up another issue regarding another of the older girls in our homestead, who had been expecting Hannali to pay for her transport all of last week. We were all really uncomfortable with these situations, because they were similar to our experiences in Mbale and Kampala, where people expected us to spend our money and share it simply because we’re muzungu and thus have money to waste. This was supposed to be home, where we could retreat from that treatment. Plus, these were kids that were asking us for things—kids with whom we’ve developed good relationships. We came to realize that we had to lock all the treats and goodies away in our rooms, and to keep our living space area as bare as possible so the children don’t expect special treatment from us. It’s tough having to take these small measures… we don’t want to think of them as manipulators, or children who are out to take advantage of us. They aren’t. But, the reality is that we do have more accessibility to the things that they need, and so they would naturally ask us for them. It’s unfair for them not to have the essentials, but it’s unfair for us to be put in these situations.

As we were discussing this, we heard calls outside in the dark, followed by shuffling. Then, the small opening in our door was opened (it can be opened from the outside). Naturally, we ask, ‘what is it?’, though we were less inviting than we usually were given our suspicions. The girl who led the children over was C, and she replied, ‘food’. Hannali went over to the opening to confirm, ‘you want chocolate? You want treats?’, to which they eagerly reply, ‘yes!’. Normally it’d be adorable, and we’d let them in within a heartbeat. But Hannali pressed on, ‘but it’s so late, you cannot have so many treats in a day!’, which prompted C to ask for what she was here for, ‘but mama (mama is a form of endearment, used especially when people want something from you), I start school tomorrow, no notebook or pen’. It was at that moment when we all breathed out a sign of relief that we were right, and that we didn’t suspect them for nothing. At the same time, we thought to ourselves, ‘now what?’.

It’s quite a sight to see the kids all crowded around the little peep hole of our padlocked door, telling us that they would like some candy and a pen and a notebook for their first day of school tomorrow. We should have drawn boundaries earlier, and could have been more wary of their intentions. Being in a new community, getting to know the children around the house, we wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. We trusted that people wouldn’t take advantage of us, especially not children. It takes a lot of boldness, hunger, or desperation to ask more than three times. Even so, we had to tell them, ‘no, you cannot have these things from us’. We drew the boundaries right then and there. Treats are for rare occasions, not for them from us simply because we come from a ‘wealthier’ world.

Thoughts?

Tags development, doubt, ethics, life, muzungu, rural life, situations, thoughts, trust, Uganda