Kirabo Canada

I will begin my entry admitting that although my given name is Claudia, several of these wonderful Ugandan students found this name so different that I was often referred to as either Flavia, Gloria or Claudia. The alterations in my name were quite funny and it was interesting (to say the least) when one of the children would call out a different name hoping that I would respond.  Beyond the slight language barrier, however, I was able to find one very warm commonality amongst everyone, that being the great spirit of tolerance and resistance and the warm community offered to everyone. It was comforting to be welcomed in a community where everyone warmed you with either a friendly hello or a unique handshake that represented a greeting of kindness.

I came into this experience with very little to no expectations in terms of what to expect and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised at the great friendships I have made along the way. I have met such wonderful people in the other volunteers and great students who have proven that although we may be separated by geography or culture we are all united in friendship and love. I will walk away from this trip knowing that not only have I attempted to help others grow and learn I have too learned and grown as a person by what I have seen and the emotions I have felt along the way.

Claudia

We have been here in Lira for just a few days now, and I am already exhausted. Construction of the new kitchen commenced yesterday and while we waited for mortar to arrive, some of us slugged water while some tried their hand at shovelling stones. We carried bucket after bucket of water from the nearest taps about 70 feet away.

The project management part of my brain that I have been trying to keep quiet, was screaming at the operational in-efficiencies, but my more rational side is recognizing how challenged the Almond College is for resources as well as even just logistical space to get the job done.

We spent a good chunk of the morning simply moving bricks from their original dump spot over to the worksite. I think after seeing us carry two or three bricks at a time, and feeling sorry for us, the students came over and formed spontaneous lines, so that we could just pass the bricks along from the brick pile to line the worksite/foundation for the new kitchen building. Eventually, after shifting all of the bricks we started laying them under the watchful eye of the construction crew foreman. I have a new skill to add to my list of trades in preparation for the day I pry myself out of my desk job!

And after an arduous morning of labour, we have been spending afternoons with the young people, the S3 students working through leadership training, doing our best to facilitate the development of their leadership skills.

For years, I have kept a journal. In getting ready for this trip I made sure my journal made its way to my carry on luggage, my plan being to chronicle this journey on daily basis. But I have found that in the last couple of days that I have been so drained and tired, I have fallen asleep with pen in hand. So perhaps a keyboard is a better avenue, but I still think and fear that my written words will not do justice to this place and the resilience of these young people. Since I have been here, a quote, has been continuously running through my mind. Meeting these young people, some of them with seemingly old souls has brought new meaning and insight…“The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt.“ – M. Lerner. 

Dena – July 7, 2011

Today Dee, Lana, Bry and I decided to attend a church service at the Almond school.  We arrived at the school around eight am and headed towards the classroom that had the loudest singing voices.  It turned out to be the Pentecostal service, also called the Born Again Christians.  I entered first and when I took my spot I saw that they were not behind me.  I wondered if they had decided not to enter.  The scene was a bit daunting since the students were either kneeling, sitting, or standing (some leaning their heads against the wall), and all were praying just under their breaths, and rocking slightly back and forth.  I could see that some of them were crying.  It seemed a grave time to walk in.  After a bit the other three also entered and took their places near my left and towards the front of the service.

Pretty soon the personal praying came to an end and the students, led only by other student leaders began to sing and dance.  I immediately felt the pull of the music and began to dance along as well. I saw that Dee was similarly moved and began to dance too.

Anh-Thi

My experience in Lira is difficult to describe; I’m not exactly sure even how to encapsulate it in a few paragraphs. I guess I can start from the beginning… I was struck by what was lacking when I first arrived in Kampala; there is insufficient housing, employment, education, and food for much of the people who live here. Lira offered a more pastoral landscape, which felt relaxing and safe, but the same poverty was strikingly apparent. I felt saddened and sorry and angry about how difficult life would be for many Ugandans. Over the course of my volunteering experience, however, what became more apparent and, at times even overshadowed the poverty, was the warmth, generosity, resilience, and spirit of the community of people at Almond College. I will never forget the introduction our team received by the staff and students. Everyone sat waiting for us and broke out into resounding applause when we took our first steps onto the campus; I immediately felt overwhelmed and it was difficult to contain my emotions. I cried. It was hard for me to fathom how we would be so welcomed without even having “done” anything.  I had the idea that productivity and tangible results were worthy of recognition and merit. But at the end of our volunteer term, I think I understood this welcome a bit more. Making the journey to share our experiences and our time with this community and, more so to listen, appreciate, and learn from their experiences, was something worth recognizing.

Our team was involved in a variety of activities at Almond: construction, artistic work, organization and purchasing of materials, as well as teaching and leading educational and recreational activities for the students. These accomplishments felt good, but what I valued the most about my time at Almond was the time I spent with the students, whether it was during the leadership activities or during our free time. These conversations, however brief, helped to build relationships. While many of the students acted just like adolescents I knew and worked with in Canada, there was a maturity, sense of responsibility, and discipline that I don’t often see in many adults that I know. There was also an incredible sense of family, community, and selflessness that I am not accustomed to seeing in adolescents. This was inspiring to me. I kind of anticipated before leaving for Uganda that I would learn more from the students than they would learn from me. I can now say that this is true.

Lana

I feel like I am losing track of the days. I think I may have forgotten to take my anti-malaria medication last night. We have been here in Uganda for nearly two weeks, I think. I woke up this morning before dawn to the sounds of Lira awakening. A rooster, I assume the same rooster, has been bringing in each day since we arrived here in Lira. No alarm or snooze button necessary, the rooster makes sure I do not miss breakfast. I could hear the comings and goings of my fellow volunteers, taking their morning exercise as Ugandans would say. I have been lying here each morning, listening to voices, doors opening and closing, keys turning, the crunch of feet and bicycles over the dirt road below me. Each day, I have stared up into the mosquito net over my bed, reminding myself to be in the moment, enjoying the relative peace and quiet before the day is set into motion. 

This morning I knew I needed a break from construction. While I have enjoyed laying bricks and mortar and shovelling – whatever I was told to shovel, my muscles are literally tender to the touch, so I puttered around on some of the smaller, less physical projects. However, nothing seems quite as satisfying as building a wall.

This afternoon, we worked through Day 6 of the leadership training.  Though I have sat through countless courses, seminars, training/development sessions involving communication, team building and leadership in my professional life, working with these kids initially felt daunting as a non-teacher. But over the last few days it has been… interesting, frustrating, productive, funny, engaging. Today as I watched them brainstorm activities to teach and lead the little children through on Lira Kids Day, it was dare I say fun. They were excited to come up with ideas and demonstrate them for me. I was happy to see some of the girls take charge, literally pushing the boys out of the way to show me their ideas. While these young people extol the virtue of humbleness, and would surely tell me I should be humble and not proud, I have to say I felt a bit of pride in what appears to be their development into leaders.

But, I am truly exhausted, not just the physical labour but the emotional weight as well. Some days have been heavy, have felt raw. As welcoming and as warm as these young people and their school community have been, the struggle of their day to day lives is no longer just an abstract described to us by our intrepid leader.  Their reality is imprinted on me and will stay with me for the rest of my days.

Dena July 13, 2011 – I think…

I heard this as I walked past a group of students one morning at Almond College. Munu means ‘white person’ in Luo, the local dialect of Lira district (Luo is a language composed of three other local dialects). I hear the word ‘munu’ often. Sometimes from the students at Almond, but most often from the local children who follow us on our morning walk to Almond. These little ones see us coming, and yell “Munu! Hi!” and then wave with so much enthusiasm, I think their arm will fall off. ‘Hi’ and ‘bye’ are the only English words they know. “Ibuto aber!”, we say to them. Because this is one of the only few Luo words that we know (it means ‘good morning’). The local children smile and laugh in response. They run close and try to touch our white skin, and then laugh again, and run away. But not very far. “Mu-nu! Mu-nu!”. I take a few steps towards them, and they squeal and laugh and run away again. We have given them all nicknames, because we cannot communicate with them any more than this in order to learn their names. One we call “Pink Shoes’, because of his little pink flip flops. He sticks his tongue out when he is concentrating on something, and his denim shorts hang around his knees, making it hard for him to run as fast as the others. His older brother often has a rubber tire that he rolls while running. The littlest one is called ‘Good Motor’. Her motor skills seem extremely developed for a toddler her size. She always wears a little dress and lifts it up to cover her face when she sees us, exposing her belly and her naked bum. She’ll peak out from behind the dress, yell ‘Hi!!”, wave, and then hide again.

When the students at Almond College call me “munu”, it sometimes sounds derogatory. I know that it’s not. But people in Uganda, I have noticed, use little expression in their speech, and the monotony in their voice is hard to interpret. If roles were reversed, and there was a Ugandan that passed by a group of white students, and they greeted him or her with the equivalent of ‘munu’ in the English language, it would most likely be interpreted (and perhaps even directed) as being diminishing, or offensive.  I understand that this perspective from which I come has led to my interpretation of ‘good morning, munu’ as being something negative. However, I quickly remember that here, in Uganda, or at least in Lira, and at Almond College specifically, white people seem to be respected, and even revered for the most part. I don’t remember any other time that I have explicitly experienced racism, and this seems to be a reverse kind of racism. With that said, however, I often wonder how we are perceived by some of the Almond students, and by the community of Lira in general.  In most cases, we are welcomed. The first day we arrived at Almond College, the students were assembled on the lawn of the school, waiting for us. We walked into the grounds, and the students all stood and applauded, and came up to greet us, and shake our hand. “You are welcome”, they said. I felt overwhelmed, and swallowed a number of times to hold back tears. Because who was I? And what had I done, to deserve such a powerful and grateful welcome? During the days of being at the school, and volunteering, either working on various projects around the school, or with the students and staff directly, this genuine and heart-felt welcoming was present and pervasive in my interactions. However, the odd time, I would lock eyes with a student, and smile. And would receive a cold glare, and a hardness in the eyes, as a response. And then I would remember. I would remember what this country has been through. I would remember what Northern Uganda has been through in the past few years. I would wonder what those cold hard eyes might have seen in the past, things that I probably cannot imagine. And I would wonder what some of these people have been through. What did they think of us “munus” coming into their community, into their lives, to provide help and support in whatever way we knew how to? Were they grateful? Or resentful?  Resentful of what we had, with our hats and our sunglasses, and our water bottles and our cameras. Resentful of what they perceived to be our ‘free’ education, and our ‘wealth’. Resentful of what they didn’t have. Or perhaps they were resentful of nothing, and that idea is really just me pushing my assumptions onto them.

I would look around me, everyday, at the students and at the school, and I would feel amazement at their community and spirit. I DO feel amazement.  These students are open, and kind. They are respectful. Selfless. Curious. They are always asking questions about what it’s like to live in Canada. They ask questions about what winter looks like in Canada, about our religion, about our homes. I remember explaining to one student that we do not have chickens running around in Toronto like they do in Lira. “There are no chickens in Canada?” he asked. They want to learn. Not just about math, or agriculture, or physics. But about the world around them.  About themselves. Just like any one of us “munus” who is here, volunteering our time. Why did we come to Africa? Why did we come to Uganda? I am happy to be here. I feel privileged to be welcomed into the community of Lira, and into Almond College. I feel special, that for just a couple of weeks, I was able to be a part of them. And I feel changed. I know that I’m not the same person that walked into Almond College on that first day. Of course, mostly, I am the same person. But there’s a small part that has been touched by my experiences here, by the people,  and most importantly, by these students. I admire their inner strength, courage, and resilience; although, I recognize that for them, they’re just living. I have learned much from these students. About the world around them, and about myself. Thank you, students of Almond College. Thank you for opening your home and your hearts to me.

Lina

 My experience volunteering at Almond will be one that will be remembered as one where I worked alongside my new volunteer friends and my new Ugandan friends in roles that were outside of my comfort zones.

As I shovelled sand and spread grout, placed bright red bricks to form walls, I realized that my limited skills were not as important as my positive attitude that I could be part of the Almond School community and contribute to the best of my ability. To try to construct this wall beside my very grounded friends also really enabled me to feel comfortable and trust in my intuition that this was enough grout and this wall would stand strong when completed. My contributions with Kirabo became a metaphor,  My actions  were like a few bricks in this project. Together we were making a difference to this school, the unity of the students, Uganda staff and the Kirabo volunteers. If I took myself too seriously it was not going to benefit the whole.

I had the fortunate opportunity to act as a liaison between the “Matron” the woman that looked after the students that lived in the dormitory to determine the needs of the female students at the school. She was a warm and nurturing woman that I connected with immediately. Her love and dedication for those kids was very evident in her understanding and knowledge of their needs. Together we worked out a plan to purchase fabric in town and have a carpenter build curtain rods to hang curtains in the windows and doors of the girls’ dormitories to provide better privacy for them. The success of this task was also measured by the relationship that I had made with Helen the Matron. I will never forget this nurturing woman and I will strive to be just like her with my own relationships with the students I teach.

I also worked in the office to assist in organizing books and school supplies that have been donated from Kirabo. The access to the Headmaster’s office was surprising to me, as many students and staff were in using this room and it probably didn’t assist in the organization of materials stored there, but at the same time I felt this openness that the Headmaster possessed that anyone could approach him if they had a need. I liked this aspect about him, and as the week progressed the door became locked when he wasn’t physically in his office to secure items and put healthy boundaries in place.

As I recount some of my experiences I realize just how much I have grown from my relationships in Kirabo and I am so glad that I took all the risks that I did in coming on board to be part of this project.

Sandee

My experience at Almond College was impactful on many levels.  When we first arrived at the school it was a bit overwhelming to see all these faces that were so happy to see us when we hadn’t even done anything yet.  I got a bit teary because it was a wonderful welcome, but also a bit confusing.  During our weeks there, getting to know the students, the teachers, and the little neighbourhood children was a wonderful experience.  Everyone on was so welcoming.  Working with the students was somewhat challenging as communication can be difficult and also I am not experienced with teaching.  However, I found it extremely rewarding when they were getting involved in the activities, and hearing their ideas was so interesting.  I spent a lot of time painting a mural on the school wall.  It took forever, but it turned out very well.  We also had some of the students do their own mural.  Overall I think the kids get a lot out of the experience, and I definitely did as well.  During our closing ceremonies I realized what an impact the students had on me, as I looked out at the same faces, this time they were familiar.  I knew many of their stories and had made personal connections that I will not forget.

Sarina