The fogginess caused by jet lag is starting to wane, but it is still very weird to be back home. I mean, everything looks famliar, but different too. It is great to see our family and friends and get caught up, of course. But we also feel a tug that occasionally means we have no idea which world we belong in.
The first clue to this was when we stopped in Amsterdam for 7 hours en route home. We went into the city and a look at the huge stone buildings, orderly streets and grey-clad citizens on neat bicycles was jarring to say the least. Says I to the doctor: "How can two such places exist in the same world?"
It's the same here - the rows and rows of Halloween candy in our local drugstore, the conversations about which restaurant is best of the zillion that have sprung up in our neighborhood (entrees $24 please), the empty streets and sidewalks. Okay, so there are some cars and occasionally people walking their dogs or pushing a baby stroller - a stroller, not a cloth attaching the baby to the mom's back like velcro - but it's quiet. No boda-bodas, no matatus honking their little horns like mosquitos, no stream of people walking, walking, walking.
The other thing we have noticed that is new since we left: There is a very evident and loud disgust with the political situation here. It's not just the war in Iraq, though we hear plenty about that, but it's a kind of inability of the citizens to hold their heads high. From our friends to the local media to the New York Times, there is a feeling in the air that things are beyond repair. Disgust is the only word we can think of to describe it. In Uganda, the people look at us as having everything we want, being fat and free (and rich). They have so little, but one thing they have is pride in their country, corruption and history aside. Hmm.
This blog is just about done. But first, I promise to post our pictures and provide a link to them. And maybe later on write just a short something on what reverse culture shock really is, and if we figure out how to keep the red dirt of Kampala under our fingernails at the same time as being our clean American selves. And mainly, how we can keep our experience from feeling like a dream rather than the reality it is.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Well done!
Yes, Theresa, I mean you. It is just about time to leave here but before we do, you need to stand up and take a bow. Not for your role as (by far) the primary blogger, although that deserves a sta
nding ovation itself. No, this is about the OTHER stuff you have done during our little Ugandan adventure. As our British friends said to us after we walked the Cotswold Way: “Well done!”
I was lucky. I came here with a very organized purpose and structure. I knew what I supposed to do, generally speaking, and my host was a well-established newspaper with all sorts of built-in organizational and support structures. Theresa came knowing she would do something, but with NO idea what that would be. Ha. No problem. It’s been so great to see how much she accomplished, how many connections she made, and what a difference she made for so many people in Uganda. It’s a gigantic part of the reason why we had such a rich time here -- and why we are as sad to leave so many people and things as we are excited to be returning home to so many others.
I can’t and won’t catalog everything, although “catalog” itself isn’t a bad choice of words because one of her legacies will be in the realm of libraries – the organizing of books at the orphanage, but especially, the fact that those children are finally starting to READ the books, or have other read to them. This is huge.
Speaking of the children: They are everywhere in our photos, and often swarming around Theresa. I chose the photo here, taken at dinner at Prossy's house, because who would have thought one of the things she would accomplish would be teaching a gang of kids to do the hokey-pokey? (They were very quick studies, especially the girls!)
The women: She became part of the Bead for Life family, and a personal part, at that, with her close – sometimes emotional – relationships with the women who make the beads, and who are finally finding a life of stability after some of the most unimaginable experiences possible. These women are clinging to Theresa and telling her she cannot leave, and that is a wonderful tribute. She worked hard on this project, bringing both her management skills and her human skills to it. She touched many people; she was touched by them.
The support for me: We knew that I couldn’t do this enormous undertaking without drawing on Theresa’s journalistic and leadership background, and I couldn’t have! Having her help lead all the upcountry training sessions, the management retreat, and critique and contribute ideas to pretty much all of my other programs made the work not only more successful, but a LOT more fun.
Yesterday at her goodbye party at Bead for Life (see photo at top, with her wonderful friend Mary), along with all they said about the work she did for the organization, many of the beaders and staff talked about what Theresa brought them with her wonderful sense of humor. "Thank you for making us laugh," Maureen said. "You have been good medicine for our hearts."
Well done.
nding ovation itself. No, this is about the OTHER stuff you have done during our little Ugandan adventure. As our British friends said to us after we walked the Cotswold Way: “Well done!”I was lucky. I came here with a very organized purpose and structure. I knew what I supposed to do, generally speaking, and my host was a well-established newspaper with all sorts of built-in organizational and support structures. Theresa came knowing she would do something, but with NO idea what that would be. Ha. No problem. It’s been so great to see how much she accomplished, how many connections she made, and what a difference she made for so many people in Uganda. It’s a gigantic part of the reason why we had such a rich time here -- and why we are as sad to leave so many people and things as we are excited to be returning home to so many others.
I can’t and won’t catalog everything, although “catalog” itself isn’t a bad choice of words because one of her legacies will be in the realm of libraries – the organizing of books at the orphanage, but especially, the fact that those children are finally starting to READ the books, or have other read to them. This is huge.
Speaking of the children: They are everywhere in our photos, and often swarming around Theresa. I chose the photo here, taken at dinner at Prossy's house, because who would have thought one of the things she would accomplish would be teaching a gang of kids to do the hokey-pokey? (They were very quick studies, especially the girls!)
The women: She became part of the Bead for Life family, and a personal part, at that, with her close – sometimes emotional – relationships with the women who make the beads, and who are finally finding a life of stability after some of the most unimaginable experiences possible. These women are clinging to Theresa and telling her she cannot leave, and that is a wonderful tribute. She worked hard on this project, bringing both her management skills and her human skills to it. She touched many people; she was touched by them.
The support for me: We knew that I couldn’t do this enormous undertaking without drawing on Theresa’s journalistic and leadership background, and I couldn’t have! Having her help lead all the upcountry training sessions, the management retreat, and critique and contribute ideas to pretty much all of my other programs made the work not only more successful, but a LOT more fun.
Yesterday at her goodbye party at Bead for Life (see photo at top, with her wonderful friend Mary), along with all they said about the work she did for the organization, many of the beaders and staff talked about what Theresa brought them with her wonderful sense of humor. "Thank you for making us laugh," Maureen said. "You have been good medicine for our hearts."
Well done.
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