Saturday, July 26: A Ridiculous Day

We landed in Brussels early Saturday morning. With five hours until our next flight, we decided to leave the secure area of the airport and either take a taxi into town, or shop in the airport shops. All the Belgian Immigration lines were long, except for the one at the very end. We walked across the room to that line. We moved rapidly, but when a man in wheelchair was rolled up to the front of the line. The guard asked him a few questions then stamped him through. IN a minute, another wheelchair came, then another, then two kids travelling without adults, then a slew of teens. Every single person that joined the lines when we did beat us out by more than 10 minutes!

It as finally our turn. The guard looked at our tickets. “These are connecting tickets,” he said.
“Where do you go next?”

“Chicago, then on to Atlanta.”

“is Atlanta your final destination?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. I meant that would be the end of our flying.

“He flipped through each passport carefully and asked a few more questions.

“You are transients, “ he said in a not very friendly voice. “You leave from upstairs.” He pushed our passports back ot us.

“You mean we have to go back”

“The flight leaves from upstairs,” he said. “Thank you.” He motioned for the next people in line to step forward. We turned around and retraced our steps past the long immigration lines.
We had to go through another checkpoint in order to go upstairs. We went through the metal detectors, and I sat mine off. A guard made me step aside. He searched me very carefully. His wand went off at my billfold. He looked at it, then finished searching me.

“Did the magnetic strip on my credit card set it off?” I asked. The man ignored me and started checking my ankles and shoes. I waited until he was finished and repeated my question a little louder. He nodded without acknowledging my question in any other way. So now I know!

We knew that there was nothing at all upstairs, so we went toward a duty free store. There was an entire mini-mall around the corner! We went to a bar and had a Belgian Waffle and real coffee! We still had a lot of time, so I went to a bookstore. It wa very strange. There were signs saying “Best Seelers’ and “Mysteries” and “Romance,” but the books were n French or German! There were a few English title, but they were very expensive (as in $45 for an old best seller!)
I found Lisa sitting under a skylight. There was enough sun coming through to feel warm. We went into the duty free shop and bought chocolate for my office, for our house sitter, and for the kennel. I bought Lisa chocolate and she bought me a yellow tie with giraffes.

After shopping, we went upstairs. We met a young woman in a Vanderbilt sweatshirt, and we talked about Uganda for more than an hour. A woman in an American Airlines uniform came by. She looked very carefully at every person sitting in the waiting area. A moment later, she returned. They had just announced final boarding for a flight to Kenya. “Are you going to Kenya?” asked the woman.

“No, Chicago,” I said.

“Well what are you doing here? You must go to gate 1.”

“The agent told us Gate 4.”

“I announced the change. You should have been listening. Your flight will leave very soon from gate 1. Would you like to be on it?”

We gathered our carry-ons and hurried down the corridor to Gate 1. There was a large sign on it telling all American Airlines customers to go there for clearance. We got in another long line and waited as each and every passenger was asked a series of questions. When we were cleared, we were sent to another line to get a new boarding pass. Then we waited in a confused line for our flight to be called.

I became dizzy standing in the crowd, so I asked to board early. I was allowed to board with the Platinum Fliers. We had seats across the aisle from one another. I sat down and a man soon asked me to let him into the window seat. “Would you mind to swap seats with my wife?” I asked.

“Not at all,” said the man. So we were able to sit together on this flight, too!

We were back in 767 land, so there was no leg room. There was also no personal video players, but we were sitting close enough to the screen to see if we wanted to watch. They announced a charge for headset rental, but Lisa had brought two sets of ear buds from home. We were all set, but there was nothing on! Despite the tight legroom, I soon fell asleep in spite of myself.
We had a bumpy flight most of the way to Chicago, but we arrived safely and on time.

We had less than 2 hours for the next connection, and this is no fun when you’re very tired. We started walking down an incredibly long corridor, but a man in a golf cart picked us up and drove us to Immigration. We were cleared through without question. Next we had to claim our bags. We found two free carts and our bags were soon there. We rolled the carts to Customs where another busy guard seemed only interested in whether we were transporting fruits or vegetables. Then we rechecked our bags. A woman looked at our tickets. “I think there will be time to get your bags to your airplane,” she said. “Just leave them here and I’ll put them on the belt to your plane.”

I thanked the lady. It was 30 minutes later when I realized she was expecting a tip!!
With bags secure, we only had to get ourselves to the plane. We had to clear a very busy security checkpoint, but we both made it without a problem. We arrived at our gate with about 10 minutes until boarding!

The flight was very easy and we arrived 20 minutes early in Atlanta. I called Jim Fulmer and he said they were there. He wanted to meet us at departures where he’d dropped us off. I told him to go to Arrivals instead. Our bags were slow arriving, but they did make Iit in good shape. We put our bags on a $3 cart and we walked out into the hall. There was an escalator with a sign saying you couldn’t take luggage carts up. We boarded the elevator. Our only option was to ride to the Departure level. I called Jim and he and Karen picked us up in a few minutes.
We managed to stay awake until we stopped for dinner at a Cracker Barrel somewhere north of Atlanta. The vegetables tasted wonderful!

Lisa began dozing soon after we ate, but I was able to keep talking until Jim pulled us into our driveway. They unloaded the bags for us, then left us to go to sleep. The lizard and rabbit were fine and the rabbit seemed glad to see us. Buster was sitting in his chair by the piano. He didn’t have much to say and Jelly remained hidden until we were ready to turn the lights out. Our house looked great.

And it was great to be home!

Looking at true clock hours, removing all the time changes and focusing on the time of our trip, I found that it was 48 hours from the time we awoke at Kolping House until we walked through the door of our house. We had a few cat naps, but we were actually travelling for two full days!

Friday, July 25: So Many Goodbyes

I awoke at 5:00 sharp and Lisa woke up with the alarm a half hour later. Vincent wanted us on our way by 8:30. We got dressed and went to the dining room for a last breakfast. We were alone in the dining room. We had scrambled eggs, toast, marmalade, and pineapple. The only way to make it any better would be real coffee!

After breakfast, I asked to see the bill. It was a bit less than I expected – a little lower than the posted rate and 20% cheaper than the rate the front desk gave me a few nights earlier. I asked for the envelope I had stored in the safe. The clerk retrieved it in a flash. All the money was there.

Vincent, Joseph, and Grace arrived right on time. I asked them to take me to exchange money and Vincent maneuvered us through the rush hour traffic to the hotel downtown. I exchanged a lot of money, but this place gave me 50,000 shilling notes, so I was able to get it all in my billfold. We went back to the Kolping House and quickly loaded the van. I returned to the front desk and paid the bill. I had also completed a survey where I had praised the place in general, but suggested they needed Internet access, dependable power, and a system that allowed food delivery in less than 2 hours. The desk clerk read the survey as I counted out the money. "Sir, does this mean we would be better if we did these things?

"Yes," I said. "We really enjoyed our stay here, but these things would make it better."

"We will try to do them, sir!"

I went back to the room to add to the tip for the cleaning crew. We decided early in the trip to put our pocket change in a container for the cleaning folks. I added a few thousand shillings to the mix and made a sign thanking them for their work. While our team carried our bags to the van, I stopped at the desk and left a tip for the dining room staff.

Vincent had a lead on Babirye Phiona (Bill). We hurried into Ntinda and entered the unpaved, rutted maze of poverty. We drove to a house we hadn't visited before. Joseph jumped out, and soon returned with a very nervous Phiona. She had been very sick when the term started and had missed several weeks. She was waiting to return to school in January. She seemed determined to return to school, so we gave her a blanket and moved on.

I took a nap as we road through the city. That was the biggest change this trip. I simply had to sleep between stops or I couldn't keep going. So I awoke on a dirt road that I had never seen. We were away from the city because the land around us was vacant. We passed a sugar cane plantation and two areas that had been cleared for planting. I finally asked Vincent where we were. I had told him about a water fall off Jinja Road. He had followed the directions in the book.
There were few walkers on this road. At times, trees grew together above us in a living canopy of green.

We turned off the main road, then turned again at a sign. There was a huge gate (closed) with three men watching it. One came to the window. I counted out the entry fee (about $5 for all of us). The man wanted to be our guide, but Vincent firmly told him we didn't need a guide. Vincent parked in the empty parking lot. The waterfall was partly visible from the lot. We walked toward it, then onto a bridge that crossed to the other side of the stream (which was called a river). This is one of the stranger things I've seen in Uganda. There is heavy jungle growth on either side of the river – tall trees reaching up to grab their share of the sun with thick undergrowth and smaller trees below. There is a break in the forest for the river, then the river tumbles off an embankment to create the fall. A few large rocks stood in the path of the fall, and water ricocheted off these before coming to rest in a pool. There was a lot of water flowing down the fall, the result of the rains we'd seen over the last few days.

We walked across the stream on steady bridge. We stopped several times to make pictures of the fall. When we reached the other side, everyone wanted their picture made with the waterfall behind. Our non-guide followed us and watched our every move, but he never mentioned guiding again.

There was a trail to the top of the fall, but we didn't have time for that. We turned and started back across the bridge. When we turned we could see down river. The pool from the fall extended beyond our bridge. At its end, the pool emptied into two channels: one flowed to the right and the other to the left. There was an island between the two channels. The island was covered in very dense grass, but trees and undergrowth had been cleared. As we looked at the two channels and the island, we realized that downstream was as interesting as the waterfall!
A few more quick pictures and it was time to go.

We got in the van and Vincent retraced his route to Jinja Road. We had two last things to do before we caught our plane. One was to eat a good lunch somewhere. The other was interesting. Lisa wanted to talk with the headmistress at Kalinabari Primary School, a government owned school where many of our students attend. Her principal was preparing a grant which involved an exchange of best teaching practices with a foreign school. Vincent promised to take us to the school, but he simply did not. I have no idea what this was about. He kept saying he would call and make the appointment, but when we reached town, he turned away onto Entebbe Road. In 45 minutes, we were in Entebbe town.

I found a Chinese restaurant in the guide book and gave the address to Vincent. It wasn't a real address, just "old Entebbe." We looked for a few minutes, then Vincent asked for directions from a police officer. We still couldn't find the restaurant, so Vincent stopped a guy on a bicycle. The man pointed in the direction we had come. Vincent turned the van around. From this direction, the sign on the restaurant was clearly visible. We pulled throubh the gate and parked. We were greeted by a puppy. Michael tried to get the puppy to let him pet it, but the dog was afraid.

We took a large table in the garden. The waiter took our order, and the soup arrived about 20 minutes later. We each got ½ an egg roll, then the entrees. The food was quite good!
Our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:40, so we wanted to be at the airport by 5:30. We finished lunch at 4:50. Lisa and I went to the restroom to change into flying clothes (that is, something that wasn't dust covered and smelly). The restrooms were very odd. There was a room with a toilet in it and a room next door with a sink and a bath tub! Lisa went in the toilet side and I went in the bathtub side. Clothes were hanging from a line over the tub. This was a guesthouse as well as a restaurant, and the bathrooms were for both restaurant guests and guesthouse guests.

All changed, we were ready to go. No one spoke at all as we drove to the airport. We stopped while a soldier used a mirror to check out the chassis of the van, then we stopped again to pay for parking. Vincent drove through the lot and up to the departure level. We quickly unloaded the van and put our four suitcases on a free cart. Our friends could hardly look at us as we walked to the airport door. They insisted on pushing the cart and carrying our carry on bags. When w e reached the door, we found a long line of teen girls. I asked the guard if we needed to wait in this line. He opened the exit door and let us enter. Our team watched us go through the door. When we turned to look again, they were gone.

We walked through a door and into the area where bags are x-rayed. We unloaded our cart and we had to leave it. Lisa went through the metal detector first and she was cleared to go. She hurried to the end of the room and got another cart while I walked over to a table with my carry-on bag, a large back pack. The guard carrying my bag pointed to it, "Is okay?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

The man opened a section of my pack. I had a set of colored pens (one each of black, blue, green, and red). The man pointed to the pens. "These are very nice pens."

"Uhh, well thank you," I said.

The man looked me straight in the eye. "I want one."

I fumbled through the bag and found a second green pen. I gave him the green pen. He didn't say a word. He patted down my pack and half way opened another compartment, then he handed the bag to me and indicated that I could go.

This was another first. I had heard that the border folks could be a bit unusual in their ways of doing things. I never expected to have to use a pen to bribe one in order to get my pack back!
Immigration was really backed up. WE got in a line and waited patiently as we didn't move. When few finally inched our way up to the window, we could see that the two immigration officers were talking and laughing and occasionally taking time off from their tale telling to look a t a passport or visa! We finally passed through without any questions.
We shopped a bit at the book store and souvenir shop I got a book that I'd seen two trips ago. We called both sets of parents to tell them we were leaving Uganda. We boarded on time and without incident.

The flight was unremarkable except that it was comfortable. The Airbus jet has more leg room than a 767, just enough to make a huge difference for me. I was actually able to doze a bit!

Thursday, July 24:Chimps

Vincent arrived a few minutes before 7:00. We were ready for him! There was no breakfast available this early, so we ate David's energy bars as we rode. He left enough for Grace and Vincent, too. There was a bit of traffic, but we were going against it for the most part. We arrived at Entebbe about 8:10. The coffee shop where we were to meet the tour was out of milk so they were selling only black coffee! I saw a cup go by. It was the traditional Ugandan brew: half a cup of water and half a cup of Nescafe!

I remembered that there is another coffee shop inside the zoo and I had seen a couple of people go through the main zoo gate (the ticket people weren't there yet). I watched for several minutes, but none of the people came back out. So I decided they must be drinking coffee at the other shop which had obviously remembered to buy milk. I walked through the first zoo gate and met a guard with an ancient rifle at the second one. "Hello," I said.

"Hello," said the guard.

"How are you?"

"I am fine, sir, how are you?"

"I am fine. Do you know if the coffee shop by the lake is open?"

"Is open," said the guard. He barely raised his head to talk to me.

"Can I come in and get some coffee?"

He looked at me for a minute from beneath his baseball cap. "Is okay."

I hurried into the zoo and walked about four blocks to the coffee shop. It was closed, though there was music coming from somewhere inside the kitchen. I walked back to the entry gate. The guard looked up at me. "So, it was open?"

"No."

He smiled and nodded to me. Exhausted by the effort, he lowered his head and appeared to instantly fall asleep.

I took a seat at the outside coffee shop and, after a careful greeting of the woman serving coffee, I asked about the trip. She didn't know anything at all. "How about the coffee shop inside the zoo?" I asked.

"Is open," she said.

"And do they have milk?"

"They have." I thanked her.

A few seconds later, a woman came up. "Are you scheduled for the Ngambe Island trip/"

"Yes, we are," I said. I proceeded to spell my name so that she could check me off her list, but the woman who took the reservation didn't get a single letter from my last name right! But when this woman saw that I had US dollars, her concern about whether I was the person she was looking for vanished!

The woman walked to the other tables and checked off names. "Everyone, follow me down to the boat!" said the woman after she collected payment from the last three customers, three young British ladies. She took off across the courtyard of the zoo, through the gate, across the street, across a parking lot, down a steep embankment, across another parking lot, and onto a dock where two pontoon boats were tied side by side. The woman all but flew: she was across the first parking lot before we left our seats. We hurried after her as fast the cane would go. When we got to the dock there were about 30 people lined up by the closest boat. The three British girls walked up to our guide and they talked for a minute. They turned and walked away. As they passed, one of them said, "But it was worth a try, wasn't it? We're out nothing. We thought we were going out at 2:00 and we said if this worked, It would be better. But we're no worse off than we thought, are we?" Her companions discussed their situation as they walked away. There seemed to be a consensus that the 2:00 boat would work just fine.

The people at the front of the cue climbed into the nearest boat. "Please continue to the other boat," shouted our guide. Our group did as they were instructed until the boat was full. Suddenly, our guide ran past us, off the dock, and into the lower parking lot. She caught up with the British girls as they were pulling out of their parking place. In a few minutes, she returned with all three of the girls following closely behind. They boarded the boat in front of us.

In fact, we were the last to board. The boat's crew watched me very carefully as I stepped down onto the boat. When I started to sit down, one of the crew touched my arm. He pointed to a spot where I could sit on the side of the wooden box that held life preservers. The advantage of the place he indicated was that I could lean my back against the vertical wall that led up to the area from which our captain steered. Grace sat a little forward of me. She had her feet and both arms wrapped around one of the poles that supported the tarp over the area where the passengers sat. She didn't turn lose of the pole for a second on the entire trip to the island. Vincent sat beside me with his back against the wall. He had his Uganda Children's Project hat pulled down to his nose so we couldn't see his eyes. He appeared to be hiding his eyes so we couldn't see how scared he was, praying, or sleeping. Grace and Vincent were the only two black people on the boat, except for the captain and an assistant. And although Vincent had been on a row boat once, neither had been on a motor boat before. And neither could swim. They both tied their life preservers around them so tightly I'm not sure how they breathed.

The outside boat pulled away from the dock first, and we followed a few seconds later. The boat had quiet an engine - we flew across the choppy morning surface of Lake Victoria. The sky was very dark to the south and east, the very direction we were headed. Between the wind and the waves, a lot of water washed over the side of the boat. Every drop of it hit the leg of my pants, my face, or one of my arms. I was soaked in a matter of a few minutes. The captain stopped the boat and he and his deck hand walked to the opposite side of the boat. They untied cords which secured a heavy tarp to the overhead railing of the ship and let the tarp fall to the surface of the boat. They secured the tarps to short poles mounted in the floor of the boat. I moved my legs as they came past me so that they would have room to get down our tarp. But the captain started up again. He didn't touch the tarp on our side, and I was soon even wetter than before!

Several small islands sprang up before us as we continued across the lake. There was a long stretch of shoreline visible to our right. To our left, Lake Victoria opened up into a limitless sea. After about 35 minutes, we could see that the captain was locked in on a particular island which grew steadily larger as we approached. It was a relatively flat island, covered in trees and low brush. As we drew nearer, we saw a small dock. The other boat had beaten us, so its captain tied it to the dock. We attached ourselves to our sister vessel. As we walked across their boat to the dock, we heard chimps screaming in the jungle ahead. From the end of the dock, we crossed a narrow beach. We followed a slow sandy trail passed a sign welcoming us to Ngambe Island Chimpanzee Sanctuary and on to a small hut where various souvenirs were displayed. As soon as everyone was there, a short young round man welcomed us and told us to go to the dining hut at 10:00. He also told us about the souvenirs in this shop and the availability of sodas. He had free coffee, or rather he had fairly hot water and Nescafe. By controlling the coffee:water ratio, I produced a mixture that was a little better than drinkable.

Lisa and I walked a short distance to a raised platform. Instead of the unrestricted view of the gorgeous lake that we were expecting, we found that we were looking directly into scrub brush. A troupe of brilliant yellow weaver birds darted into an out of their nests in one tree. There were a number of other birds in the surrounding trees. A series of large tents stood beside us. Overnight visitors lived in these tents. We sipped our Nescafe while we looked over the island from our post on the platform. By the time we'd finished our coffee, it was time to go to the dining tent.

We found a seat in the dining tent and listened as our guide gave us a history of the island. The sanctuary was 11 years old. It's purpose was to rescue chimps that were being mistreated or that had become behavior problems for their owners. He also explained the feeding process and what we might expect to see. As he spoke, we heard chimps screeching in the trees. When 11:00 came, he led us along a path which continued to rise slowly. We were soon walking beside a very sturdy metal fence which our guide told us was electrified by a solar power station.

We soon came to a flight of stairs which led to a long platform. Fear of shock kept the chimps well away from the electrified fence itself, but they stood at an invisible line that they knew was safe. A second platform rose above the first. Looking through the electric fence, we could see a few chimps watching us from their positions in jungle undergrowth. After a few minutes, two men came out carrying very large containers of assorted fruit. Lisa and I decided to climb up to the second platform in order to get better pictures of the chimps. The men split up with one at each end of the long platform. They began flinging fruit over the fence. The chimps came running as soon as they heard the fruit hitting the jungle floor.

There were 44 total chimps in the refuge. All but one of the chimps was a rescue from owners who had taken them as pets. They were cute and adorable for about seven years. Then, they were suddenly too large to manage. This refuge was there to take them in. There was one other chimp. She was called Surprise. It seems that the female chimps were all given birth control implants. This prevented all the monkeys from becoming pregnant, except for this mother of Surprise. For reasons no one understands, she became pregnant several years ago.

Each of the 44 chimps made an appearance. Some ran up, grabbed food, and ran into the trees. Others stood and waited for food to be thrown to them. The boss chimp ran around scaring off all the chimps he didn't want to eat. He looked really rugged because he had a huge scar on his forehead, the result of an earlier fight. The younger chimps played, chasing each other and turning somersaults. One gray haired old guy, a former boss, seemed to be very easy going. He walked near the fence and stood there. Some of the other chimps took his food at first, but by waiting patiently, he got what he came for.

After the food was gone, we walked down to the first level. There was a group of chimps that we could barely see from our post, so we hurried down the platform to watch the final pieces of fruit fly over the fence to the waiting crew. When the food was gone, we walked down to the ground level. A chimp was standing on the other side of the fence looking at us. We stopped to see what he was up to. A piece of fruit had somehow ended up under the bottom wire of the electric fence. This chimp had a long stick, but it wasn't long enough to safely reach the fruit. So he had pushed a shorter stick through the fence and he was using his long piece of wood to move the shorter one. His plan was to use the two sticks together to bring the fruit closer. His plan wasn't working because he couldn't get enough force from his stick to the shorter one to move the fruit more than an inch or two. We left him there working for the fruit, and walked back to the dining area where we started. Our guide announced that it was time to leave. I walked down to the beach and took more pictures of the birds coming by.

Lisa, Grace and Vincent soon came to the beach. We followed the dock to our boat. Since it was closest to the dock, passengers for the other boat had to climb over ours to board theirs. I took a seat a bit forward of the place I'd sat before. Vincent took my place and sort of stretched out. He was either praying or sleeping in no time. Grace retained her death grip on the support pole for the tarp.

No one said much as we road back to the zoo. We made very good time, and we managed to avoid the storms that seemed to be around us. We hurried to the van to get out of the sticky afternoon sun. Vincent tried to start the van, but it wouldn't move. He jumped down from the van, and in seconds, a crowd of men and women, came from everywhere and began pushing us. Some of the pushers were drivers of other vehicles parked in the lot. Women passing by took the loads off their heads and pushed. The parking lot attendant joined in. They pushed and pushed and pushed. Vincent popped the clutch several times, but it was no good. The van wouldn't start.

Several pushers left us and went on about their business, but within a few minutes, they were replaced by others. These took up the fight, pushing and pushing with all their might, but the van wouldn't start. One of the men spoke to Vincent for a minute. Vincent and Grace got out and joined the pushers. A large man squeezed himself in behind the steering wheel. As everyone else pushed, our new driver did exactly as Vincent had been doing. The result was the same – we ended up at the end of the parking lot and we were still stalled.

On an earlier trip, Dan said that insanity is doing exactly the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. (These words of wisdom escaped his lips as we sat in our hotel room at the Hotel Africana watching a man enter the same string of letters into Dan's laptop over and over and over. He received the same error message each time, but that didn't slow him down at all. He kept trying!) I was glad Dan wasn't there to watch as we were pushed back and forth in the parking lot, Vincent popping the clutch every few seconds. Each time nothing happened except the people pushing crashed into the van it had become a brick wall every time Vincent popped clutch.

A group with two ladies and an older Muslim man in cap and robe gave way for two large Ugandan men. They spoke with Vincent for a minute then pushed us backwards in the parking lot so that they could get up a good head of steam going forward. The Muslim man rejoined us as the pushing began. We started to build speed, a bit faster, the end of the lot was coming up. . .

And Vincent popped the clutch. We started instantly! Vincent put the van in neutral and jumped out. He handed 5,000 shillings (a little over $3) to one of the men and indicated that it was for everyone. He got back in the van, and we drove happily away. We went back to Kolping House without further incident. I changed shirts and gathered up my notes and we were off to church. I only spoke for 30 minutes, then there were questions for well over an hour. Everyone seemed so excited to try budgeting. Earlier, I had sent Michael into town to buy small note books for everyone. I passed them out along with instructions about how to record expenditures and receipts. It was like Christmas in July! They couldn't wait to start.

Everyone was tired, but Vincent was more than ready to take us somewhere to eat. Indian is his favorite, and we found a great place. We returned to the guesthouse a little before 10:00. Our new friend from Rwanda was sitting in the restaurant. We sat down and talked with him a bit. He is very excited about the rebuilding going on in his country. His attitude was very interesting. He basically told us that we should be very careful in trusting Ugandans because they would cheat in business. Rwandans, he said, were very different. He even had an investment idea which involved opening a bakery in Uganda using the cheap labor to produce world-class baked goods. "I would do this only to help the unemployed people in Uganda. There are so many," he said.

He followed us to our room and asked us to wait while he got his camera. He wanted a picture with me, then one with Lisa. He took my email address and promised he would write. I hope he does!

Wednesday, July 23: Being Where You’re Supposed to Be!

Our plans to visit a national park were officially changed. Even after more than $200 in repairs, the van wasn't reliable enough to begin a 4+ hour drive. And Agatha's grandmother died, so Vincent needed to be at home. So Vincent came to get us at 8:30. We still didn't know for sure whether anyone would come to hear my budgeting seminar, but we committed to be there at 5:00.

The number of kids we still needed to see was down to a small handful. We wanted to find Babirye Phiona (Bill) first. She was sick at the start of the term and by the time she was better, she'd missed a lot of school. The headmaster called Vincent and told him since this was her P7 year and she would have to take a test at the end, Phiona needed to wait and come back next year. But Vincent hadn't seen her since, so we wanted to make sure all was well. Vincent heard that her brother worked at a car wash in Ntinda, so we went there first. The car wash was at the back of a large lot. Several vans were sitting in the lot and two teams of men were washing vans in the back corner of the lot. A small restaurant with tables under a tarp stood along one side of the lot. While we were waiting on Vincent, a young woman came out of the restaurant and all but ran to the van. It was Nabwire Juliet (Martha). We met Nabwire when she was in S5. Her father had just died and her mother was already dead. Her grandmother had taken her in, but there was no money for school fees. Martha picked up the fees and Nabwire didn't miss a day of school. When she completed S6, she asked to go to the equivalent of a community college to get a certificate in counseling. She completed her certificate last year and although she hasn't yet found a job in her field, she is doing well as the assistant manager of this restaurant. She was very happy to see us, and very appreciative of the help she'd received.

Vincent returned before Nabwire left. They talked for a few minutes, then Vincent climbed in the van and we pulled away. The man we wanted was very busy cleaning a van for a funeral home so he asked Vincent to come back in about an hour. Surrey High School was close by. We stopped to make sure that Esther was doing as she had promised. Grace checked with the headmaster. Esther had been at school every day that week.

Phiona's brother was almost ready when we went back to the car wash. He started to the car, but Vincent made him go inside and change out of his work clothes before he got in the van. He came out a few minutes later, grumbling under his breath in Luganda. He directed Vincent a few blocks up the main road, then we turned and again onto a narrow dirt road which paralleled the main road. We stopped in front of a vegetable stand and Vincent and the boy jumped out of the van. In a few minutes, Vincent returned with a young woman. They both got into the van. We drove for about five minutes, then the woman and Grace got out. They were gone for about ten minutes, then returned without Phiona. We took the woman back to the vegetable stand, but we didn't see Phiona's brother again. Apparently, we had made the boy leave work, change clothes, then direct us to the house. And for all that, he got to walk back to work!

We dropped Grace at the church so that she could follow up on a couple of fee issues from the second term payment. Vincent drove us back to the general area where we'd looked for Phiona. Our target this time was Nampeera Moreen (Jessica). Vincent had talked to everyone that morning and Nampeera's sister told him the girl was at school, while the school said it hadn't seen her since Monday. Vincent parked on the side of a narrow dirt road and jumped out. He disappeared around a high wall. He returned alone after ten minutes. "She is hiding!" he said. We went back to the church and picked up Grace.

It is a long drive from Ntinda to Trinity College. Namale Rebecca (Bruce and Nancy) just started this school this year. This is a great girl's school, though it is expensive. It is the school Monique chose for Phoebe, her own daughter, who has done very well in her senior secondary years. But there was a problem: this school had very strict visiting rules. For us to see one of their students, we had to have a letter from the parents giving us permission to see the child. Without that letter, we couldn't get passed the large, unfriendly gate guard. We didn't have such a letter, so we drove all the way out to Trinity not knowing whether we would get to see the girl.

The college is surrounded by a high brick wall. Grace went in while we waited in the van outside the gate. She was gone a very long time, but when she came back, she said we could see Namale if I would come in and sign the visitor's book. Lisa and I followed Grace through a narrow gate in the metal gate. The guard wanted to stop us, but Grace had a pass saying we could all enter. I signed the visitor's book and the assistant head master actually told us we were welcome.

When Phoebe was at this school, we were very impressed by her English and Namale was the same. She has always been a bright girl, but her English was as good as if it were her first language. She was so excited to see us because she wanted us to see her new school. She is at the very top of her class, and she couldn't tell us about everything fast enough! In the middle of her raving about how great thngs were, she said, "And I haven't had malaria one time this whole year."

"So no one here gets malaria?" I asked. "They must do a good job controlling mosquitoes."

She looked at me as though I had three heads. "No, the sick bay has been full of girls with malaria some days. But me, I haven't gotten it once."

"You must be taking good care of yourself."

She sighed. "No, I have the mosquito net you bought me last summer. I sleep under it every night and I have had no malaria for an entire year. Girls in my dorm have been very sick, but not me. I have your net." We talked to Namale for a few more minutes, but she needed to get back to class. She shook hands with all of us, turned, and ran back to her class. But she turned back and watched us leave. Grace gave the surly guard the pass from the headmaster. Each of us told him goodbye, and he had to answer each one because he didn't know how well we knew the headmaster!

We stopped by the Kolping House to let me get my notes in case I had to talk that night. I also picked up a Uganda tour book because I wanted to read about a chimpanzee rescue operation. I saw signs about trips to this chip sanctuary at the zoo on Saturday, but the material was short on details. I read all about it as Vincent drove us to Garden City for lunch. The chimp refuge was on an island in Lake Victoria. A visit involved a long boat ride, followed by a chance to see the chimps being fed.

It was only a short ride from there to Garden City. Lisa got kabobs at the Lebanese Restaurant and I got a feast for about $6 at the Indian place. After lunch, I gave Lisa the book to read about the chimps. She read it and said she wanted to go. I passed the book to Vincent and Grace. "We've really been working hard the last three weeks," I said. "Would both of you like to come with us to see the chimps?" Both said they would like to go, which really surprised me because Grace is terrified of water! I called and found that there were four seats left for the next morning. I made a reservation for all four of us.

After lunch, we stopped at the Internet Café to update the blog and at a bookstore to buy a Ugandan Cookbook. It was a few minutes before 3:00 and we had no place to go. So Vincent took us to the Uganda National Museum. I had been before, but Lisa hadn't, and Lisa loves museums.

This is an odd place. Some of the exhibits are first rate, but some have items missing. In others, the exhibits are pushed over inside the glass. There's no particular order to things – you move from history to how malaria is transmitted to ancient musical instruments without any particular break in the flow. And there was a special exhibit about chimps, which turned out to be a series of posters and a video about the sanctuary.

We spent most of two hours in the museum, then Vincent took us to church. Joseph and Michael were there, but it was only 5:05. With a start time of 5:00, there was no need to panic yet. By 5:30, there were about 15 people there. By 6:00 there were 46! I knew the members of Kiwatule who were there, but there were other people who had come from other churches, too. One older woman who must be a leader in one of the other churches sat right in front of me. She questioned me sharply at first, but by the end, she saw where I was going and she was very supportive.

I spoke for an hour then answered questions for almost an hour. The group was so anxious to hear about budgeting. It was a situation where they all knew they should be doing something different with their money, but they didn't know what it was! They seemed to take down my every word. And to think I almost missed this opportunity in order to see a few animals!

After I finished, Joseph, Michael, and Grace said they needed to hurry home. Vincent said he would like to eat. I used the guidebook to find another Indian place because I know that Vincent loves Indian food most of all. This place was spectacular! The parking lot was completely full, so we had to park on the street and walk up a steep hill to the white stucco building. The restaurant smelled of rose water and it was filled with waiters in brown uniforms, including brown bell hop hats. We were led through the restaurant to a table in the back. The food was northern Indian even though the guidebook said it was southern Indian. Whatever the region, the food was spectacular!

Vincent took us home after dinner. We went to bed early because Vincent would come for us at 7:00 the next morning. The boat for the chimps left at Entebbe at 9:00, so with an hour's drive to Entebbe, we had very little room for error!

Tuesday, July 22: Another Not So Good First!

I spent most of the night wide awake, calculating and recalculating our hotel bill. I was trying to figure out how to fund this trip to the national park, but it appeared I was a bit short on the hotel bill here! Getting everything straight would require trips to the ATM and probably a trip to at least one bank.

Lisa reported that there was no hot water. I knew we had been without power most of the night, so I wasn’t surprised. Breakfast was complicated. There was a huge group of Ugandans holding some kind of conference at the Guesthouse. Within a few seconds of our arrival in the dining room, there was a long line of people trying to get coffee, toast, and fruit. The group was friendly, treating us as though we were a part of them. But it was a lot of people for that early in the morning!

Vincent was due at 8:30. He came to the room about 8:10 to deliver presents for us and for David. We finished getting ready and joined him at the van at 8:30. Our goal was to finish seeing children so that we could be free to go to the national park on Wednesday.

So we were off! Our first stop was Crown College to visit Nampeera Noreen. This was our second attempt. Earlier, her home told us she was at school and the school said she was at home. The same thing happened today! Vincent and Grace are looking into this.

Our next stop was Gayaza, where we visited two spectacularly nice girls schools. One of them had a building announcing it was built in 1940. The other claimed to be more than 100 years old, the oldest girl’s school in Uganda.

Our next stop was Luweero Secondary School, which seemed to be somewhere near South Africa! When we arrived, we saw Amanyire Joash (Tim and Edie). It seemed strange to see this boy who I still remember as a quiet, small for his age, elementary kid as a secondary school student. He was still a bit small and incredibly quiet, but he had grown into a young man.

We then began another incredibly long drive to Kwagala Day and Boarding School which must be somewhere north of Greenland. When we finally got there, we found a one rut trail leading precariously close to a huge ditch. Vincent passed the marked turn for the school and chose, instead, to take an unmarked trail that led to a church. He turned at the church and drove along the edge of a garden until we could finally see the tiny school. We were here to see Namhaba Robinah (Evelyn and Jenifer). This girl had lived with Grace for several years. She had decided to leave Grace and move in with her father. He had shipped her off to the middle of nowhere to live with her aunt. Although she obviously missed Grace, she said she was happy where she was.

This is a tiny primary school more than 40 kilometers from Kampala. I’m not certain, but we were probably their first white visitors. Every kid came running to see us, but see is all they wanted to do. They were scared to death of us! And their teachers were not much more brave!

Lisa finally broke through by letting one touch her arm. After that, every child wanted to touch her. They never did warm up to me. I think there’s something about sun glasses and a cane that makes me a bit intimidating to these kids.

We played with them for half an hour, taking pictures, video taping, and passing out single crayons and pencils. Everyone really waved when we left, but I’m not sure that it wasn’t with relief that we were going!

Robinah asked us to take her blanket and basin to her aunt. We drove along the market street of the tiny village until Vincent saw the woman. We pulled in and talked with her about Robinah. She had a toddler named Joshua who was hilarious. He wasn’t the least k tobit afraid of us. He tried to talk. He laughed. He grabbed the toy Lisa offered. Then all at once he noticed we were different. He didn’t cry, but he certainly stopped laughing!

We were a long way from Kampala, at least 40 km. once we made it back to the main road. We were north of Kampala, an area we knew nothing at all about. The terrain here was noticeably flatter. There were more swamps and more palm trees. We were still 200 km from Gulu, the center of troubles in northern Uganda.

We finally made it back to the main road and headed south toward Kampala. About 15 minutes later, there was a pop when Vincent shifted gears. The van quickly stalled. After the thousands of kilometers we’ve logged in Uganda, we were having serious mechanical problems with the van.

Vincent could only drive in first gear. To make matters worse, this road (the Gulu Road) was being rebuilt as we drove on it. The road crew would put a flagman out to tell us one lane was closed so traffic could flow in only one direction. At one point, we were crawling along in first going south, the only open direction. We had a huge piece of earth moving equipment running beside us as it flattened out a load of sand. A boda boda jumped into our lane heading straight for us. He ended up squeezing between us and the earth moving equipment on a strip of dirt no wider than a foot!

Vincent was amazing, as always. He managed to coast down hills and use the transmission only to pull up hills. As it turned out, traffic drew steadily worse as we approached Kampala so it didn’t particularly matter that we couldn’t go more than 25 kpm.

We drove inside the new by-pass and immediately came to Kolping House. It seems Bomba Road, the address of Kolping House, turns into Gulu Road at the by-pass. We all came inside to order sodas, but our team wanted lunch so they each ordered pork and chips. Everyone was quiet as we waited for the food. I got out my Dave’s Insanity Sauces to try to liven everyone up. It worked a little bit.

They left after lunch and Lisa and I went up to our room. It was the first day we’d had any break before 5:00, and both of us were asleep in no time!

Vincent later called to say that the gear box was damaged. We were able to get a temporary fix for only about $200. The work came with a warning, that this was only a temporary fix.

Between the health of the van, my lack of funds, and the death of Agatha’s grandmother earlier that morning, our chance to visit a national park was gone.

We spent the rest of the afternoon working on this blog, resting, and reading a bit. At dinner, we talked to a young man from Rwanda. He has been here as long as we have. He works for Serena Hotels. He is the head pastry chef for the hotel in Kigali. He is in Uganda for a month to observe the new hotel and its operations. He goes home on Saturday, and he can hardly wait. He wants to start a bakery in Uganda someday.

Monday, July 22: A Day Without Sunshine

Joseph told us as we were leaving the van on Sunday night that he had not publicized my personal finance lectures, so he didn’t see any reason for me to hold them on Wednesday and Thursday. That freed us up to go to a national park to see game. Vincent knew just the place.

It was a cloudy day with intermittent rain, something I’d never seen in Uganda.

We had several children yet to visit and they were very spread out! Our first trip was to find Ssenyange Herbert (New Beginning). He had been sick when we visited his school. He was on his way back to school on Monday. He was extremely appreciative of all we do.

We had received word that Scovia (Gary and Terry) was back at school, so we went to see her. Scovia has been with us since the beginning. At first, she was a small girl who lived across Lake Victoria from her school. She actually had to beg rides with fisherman to and from school each day. As she grew, we moved her to a boarding school and she has done well there. Scovia is dealing with a difficult situation. Her grandmother, who raised her after her parents died of AIDS, wants her back at home. And Scovia is torn between continuing her education and chasing after her dreams or returning to help her grandmother. She is also battling some kind of recurring fever which her grandmother attributes to witches. When she is sick, she contacts the grandmother who brings her home to chase the witches away. Both Grace and Vincent gave her phone numbers and she agreed to call one of them before calling her grandmother if she becomes troubled again. This is a critical time for Scovia. We lost one of our students to this village life last year. Pray that Scovia chooses a different path.

After visiting two more children, Vincent took us to the food court for lunch. I ordered lamb shish kabob and for the first time in my life, I had all the lamb I wanted to eat! It was absolutely delicious. Lisa was not so lucky. She ordered chicken from a Cuban stand and it wasn’t very good at all.

Vincent didn’t tell us what to expect after lunch, so we rode along, half-napping thinking we were going to another school. After a while, we left the main road and turned up a steep hill. We passed a building materials company and came out in the quarry. This time, we had the picture of Stephen Batte that I had printed from the Internet.

Nothing had changed except that the rain made driving even more challenging. The huge ruts in the dirt track were filled with water and Vincent had to be very careful not to slide off the road or to become stuck in the mire. He was constantly balancing going too fast to be safe and going so slow he would become stuck.

Vincent stopped in the last set of hovels before the quarry itself. He showed the picture to a woman who showed it to others. They agreed that the boy was gone, taken into another sponsorship program within a few days of the article’s appearance. “The lady in Chattanooga wanted to sponsor a boy of about nine,” I explained. “Is there a boy like that around?”

The women talked among themselves, but said there were no other boys. There were plenty of orphan girls of that age. A tall, thin woman seemed to be the leader of the pack. She said she would go and find such a girl.

We continued climbing up into the quarry area. Women sat along the path breaking rocks with their make-shift hammers. They sat on piles of rocks in their long, tattered skirts whacking rock after rock. They were very good at their job. They could reduce a softball sized piece of rock into gravels with only a few strokes. One of the women had an infant tied to her back. The baby seemed to be asleep as the woman worked.

Vincent showed Stephen’s picture to a man in the quarry. He and several other men who had come to see what was going on agreed that this boy had been taken into another sponsorship program. As Vincent talked, other young men came by the van. They were very friendly, speaking and asking how we were, but their eyes never stopped moving. They seemed to be trying to see what we had in the van. I finally asked Vincent to leave.

Turning around on the narrow road was a major ordeal when it was dry. With the rain, it was almost impossible. The men who had been talking with Vincent and those who had been talking with us helped talk Vincent through the tedious turns until we were pointed back down the track.

The tall woman was waiting for us at the edge of the quarry. She had a young girl with her, an orphan named Phiona whom she was caring for. Phiona wore a filthy, tattered school uniform. She was ten years old and she had left school after P3 when her parents died. At first, she wouldn’t talk at all, but she soon loosened up. She wanted to return to school more than anything. But there was a problem: Phiona had a younger sister named Rachel and she wouldn’t leave her in this place. If Phiona was to move to a boarding school, Rachel had to go, too. The woman heard all this and talked with the girl a bit, then she asked to go find Rachel. We had only one committed sponsorship here, but I told Vincent to let her find the girl. We would figure out some way to get Rachel a sponsor [CAN YOU HELP??]

While we were waiting, I asked Grace if it would be okay for us to get out of the van and talk to some people. She talked with Vincent and they agreed it would be okay. Lisa and I walked back up the road to a woman breaking rocks. She wore a dark top and a long dark skirt. I don’t see how she could sit on these rocks! They were sharp and uneven, but she didn’t seem to notice. She spoke a bit of English and she let us film her breaking large rocks into large gravel with her hammer thing. She showed us a the pile of finished product she was working on.

“How much will you be paid for that pile of rocks?” I asked.

“120,” said the woman.

“And how long will it take you to break that many rocks?”

“One week,” she said proudly. Apparently this was pretty fast.

I started doing the math and figured out that 120,000 shillings (about $75) for a week’s work wasn’t that bad in Uganda. Granted it took seven days a week to produce this much product and the work day pretty much followed the sun.

I didn’t realize she meant 120 shillings per week. That’s $7.50 for sun up to sun down seven days a week.

As I talked with the lady, she told me she had a daughter who wanted to go to school. She said her father was dead and there was no way she could afford school fees by herself. I told her we would try to find a sponsor. She smiled and held my hand.

We walked back to the van where Vincent and Grace were still waiting on Rachel. Phiona was doing well. She was talking with the women who were still standing around. Each of these women were trying to talk to Vincent or Grace. I watched for a few minutes, then finally asked Grace what was going on. Each of these ladies was trying to convince us that we should also take their daughters.

But we only had one committed sponsor. I had promised Rachel and the daughter of the woman who let us tape her that I would find them sponsors. I told Vincent to promise these people that we would try to find sponsors. That was the best I could do.

We gave race cars to the small boys who came to look at us and bracelets to the girls. These kids were in terrible shape: many had runny noses. Several had protruding stomachs and hernias. No one was overweight, though none seemed to be exceptionally thin.

The woman brought Rachel in a little while. She was smaller than Phiona and she wore a plain dress, not a uniform. She wouldn’t say a word to us and she hardly looked at us. Phiona talked to her, but it didn’t help.

After some negotiating, we agreed we would take both girls into the project. We would find a boarding school for them and they would begin when the next term starts (in about 5 weeks). Thanks to Jon, Lara, and both Hannah’s, we had enough spare money to promise clothing, shoes, a mattress, and other essentials for these girls. Vincent said that the girls would come back home during holidays if they wanted to. If not, someone in the church would take them.

On the way down, I noticed very many younger boys. But as they had said, there were no elementary school boys around. It finally dawned on me that these boys were in the quarry working, just as Stephen had been. And a family with a working boy wasn’t about to give up the revenue he represented. The young girls weren’t able to carry as much or break rocks as quickly as the young boys. That meant the girls needed a place to live and food to eat, yet they were returning no income to the family. Of course they would be glad to part with the girls!

This experience was one of the most emotional for both Lisa and me. With only one sponsorship to offer, we felt like potential puppy owners at a pet store. The idea of having to choose which life to change was overwhelming. And the ladies trying to convince us to take their own daughters so that they wouldn’t grow up to this fate was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.

We learned that we will have problems working here. Many of the people are from the Achole tribe which traditionally controls northern Uganda. But some are Bugandans, members of the tribe that currently runs the nation and Kampala. There is a Bugandan leader here and an Achole leader. We didn’t go through them because either of these leaders would give us kids only from their own tribe. Neither would like it that we came in and chose on our own. Vincent will sort this out.

We talked about the quarry as we drove back into town. Grace and Vincent had been as moved as we were. We agreed that they would return to the quarry and ask the tribal leaders for a list of true orphans from their tribes. We’ll add these to our waiting list right away. Then, they will return and work on identifying needy children with only one parent. In fact, I would expect our waiting list to be dominated by these quarry workers in no time.

On the way back, we stopped to visit Zawedde Hilda (Tom and Linda). Her parents had moved her to a boarding school, and they weren’t very cooperative. After a long wait, they said I had to come into the office to sign for the girl. I went to the office and they started looking for the girl. While we were sitting there, Grace realized she had made a mistake. The girl was on another campus of this school. We quietly excused ourselves and returned to the van.

We picked up Joseph and Michael at church. I have a Uganda guide that I bought a few years ago. I had checked it and found several new restaurants. Lisa and I decided on an Indian place downtown. We had eaten at a stall run by the same family at Garden City.

We wove our way through the rush-hour traffic, but we couldn’t find the restaurant. Vincent finally called the number in our guide book and got directions. We were only a block or two off. The restaurant didn’t open until 7:00 and it was only as few minutes after 6:00. We drove around and wasted a few minutes, but when we drove by again there was a parking place right at the door. Vincent took it and we went inside. The restaurant was located on the second floor (first if you’re British!). It was dark but a man came out and invited us in. We sat at a coffee table by the bar. The man came back and took drink orders. We sat there comfortably sipping water until the restaurant officially opened at 7:00.

This restaurant specialized in food from northern India. I ordered an assortment of dishes. The evening was just beginning for the cooks, and our food took a bit longer than I expected, but it was well worth the wait! The food here rivals the restaurant at Garden City.

On the way out, I found the wonderful mixture of seeds and spices that one sees at most Indian places. I spooned up a handful and popped it in my mouth. This mixture was toasted and not as strong as the one used at most Indian places. There was a second bowl beside the seeds. It contained a store of clear, rectangular objects, which I took to be some kind of rock sugar. So I popped one of these in my mouth, too. I’m not sure what this was. When I first bit it, I thought perhaps this was a bowl of beads from the beaded curtain that separated the rooms in the restaurant. But on second try, the thing shattered in my mouth. There was still no taste, so I began wondering if this was some sort of air freshener.

Lisa wasn’t particularly surprised that I’d picked up something with no idea what it might be, but our Ugandan friends found this to be absolutely amazing. Grace, between fits of laughter, kept saying, “Who told you to eat this thing?”

I still think this was some kind of rock sugar candy, though it was absolutely tasteless. The good news it’s been more than 24 hours now. Whatever it was, I seem to have handled it just fine.

Sunday, July 20: Dallas Departs

A day Lisa and I had dreaded since we realized we would be returning to the States at different times. Jeff had left us a week ago. Soon it would be David, Angie, and Danielle.

Vincent picked us up at 10:00. The ladies all wore the gromese, the traditional African dresses given them last Thursday night after the Women’s Group. The dresses were different in style and color but all featured wrap-around skirts gathered up on one side, penned, then tied in place with a wide belt. The people at church really liked it that they were wearing these clothes.

David preached, and he did a phenomenal job. He managed to make his hour-long sermon relevant and culturally appropriate without appearing to change his style. And it was quite a day at the church. The assistant pastor of a very large church had come to hear David, as well as a man from Boston who now lives in Kampala. I’m sure neither was disappointed!

As Joseph announced opportunities for the week, he didn’t mention my money seminar. Since this would be the last time the church would all be together before the first seminar on Wednesday, I was a bit surprised!

It was almost 2:00 when we finally got away from church. We decided to go back to the Guesthouse and pack up, then get a snack for lunch and dinner before the flight left. So we ended up at the coffee shop where we’d bought coffee the night before. We all had a cup of coffee and a piece of cake. The cake slices were substantial and good, though not very sweet!

We hardly had an hour in Kampala by the time our snack was over. Rather than going to see the Kasubi Tombs or the Martyr’s Memorial, the ladies decided to go shop. Vincent took us to the Theater Center where there is a wide variety of craft shops. Both Angie and Danielle made a few last minute purchases.

It was almost time to leave. Their flight was scheduled for a few minutes after 11:00. The three hour check-in rule said to be there by 8:00. We wanted time to eat, so we started to leave at 4:00. Michael and Joseph, however, hadn’t joined us when we left the shopping area. Vincent started toward Entebbe Road (the road to the airport), but he turned into a gated drive. The gate opened and we were in the new Serena Hotel. Vincent really wanted David to see this place, so he let us off at the main entrance while he looked for a parking place. We wandered through the breath-taking lobby (a mix of Japanese minimalism and African tribal antiques) and into the gift shop. We looked around the shop until 4:30 then went out to the van. Joseph was waiting for us. We started for the airport again. This time, we only had to stop for Michael, who was waiting on the street.

We had a clear shot to Entebbe – no major traffic at all. We arrived at the Royal Botanical Hotel about 6:00. We took a table on the 2^nd floor balcony. We had a great view of the twin swimming pools and the gardens with Lake Victoria in the far distance. Lisa and I had tilapia fillets. Mine was in the fish and chips style while hers was breaded. Both were excellent.

Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal, except Danielle who wasn’t feeling well. We sat and chatted until 7:30, then it was time to go. Vincent rushed us to the airport and we al l got out with David, Danielle, and Angie. Their flight was checking in, so we left them at the door. We stayed until everyone was at the ticket counter, but we had to go then because the guards were complaining about our being stopped.

THE FOLLOWING TWO PARAGRAPHS ARE VERY GRAPHIC. YOU CAN EASILY SKIP THEM.

Vincent drove us out of the parking area Everyone was pretty quiet in the van. It was as though we’d had our energy removed. We pulled onto the four-lane road that leads into and out of the airport. We were in the inside lane. I knew something was wrong when I heard the terrifying sound of metal scraping metal. I looked into the lane of incoming traffic. In the lane next to me, a boda boda driver had tried to cut too close to a taxi. He clipped the left front corner of the taxi (the metal on metal screech). This pulled him in front of the fast-moving taxi. The driver stood on his breaks. The nose of the van dropped forward, but it was too late. I heard two thumps, the sound of flipping a watermelon with your knuckle, the sound of two unhelmeted heads hitting pavement. The van continued on for a few feet mangling the boda boda and both its occupants as it slowed.

All of this happened in a split second, but seemed to drag on in slow motion for several minutes. The boda boda was cutting around the van because there was a terrible incoming traffic jam. The people in the car around the taxi were jumping out, but there wasn’t anyone to help on the pavement. There’s no way either of the riders survived. We continued on toward Kampala. No one said a word.

After about 25 minutes, we met an ambulance speeding toward the airport. Apparently, the only ambulance was in Kampala. It would be around 45 minutes after the accident before the ambulance arrived. I had a terrible thought. We were so focused on the boda boda occupants that we didn’t even think about the taxi. These taxis are set for 14 people, but it isn’t at all unusual to see 20 or more people riding. Most of the taxi riders don’t use seat belts. If this was an overloaded taxi, there were sure to be injuries from dislodged taxi passengers. Perhaps the ambulance was for them.

We said goodbye at the door to the Kolping House. Lisa and I walked up the long slope from the dining area. Again, the silence was deafening. We already missed them and we hadn’t tried to do anything.

Saturday, July 19: The Zoo (again)

We were scheduled to be at Saturday School by 10:00, so Vincent came for us at 9:00. As was always the case, I needed to exchange money which I did at the hotel rather than the bank. Vincent took us to the Internet Café at Garden City where I updated the blog without any problems. We also printed out the article about the boy at the quarry as well as his picture.

So we were half an hour late getting to church. The place was full of kids again, singing, laughing, happy kids. We photographed a few of the kids who had been sick when we visited their schools, but mostly, we just enjoyed being with this bunch.

Around 11:30, everyone left for the soccer game. Brainerd Presbyterian had donated a dozen balls and these kids could hardly wait to try one out! We didn’t appear to lose anyone between the church and the school. The boys split into a young and an older team and they were soon charging around the field in a tightly contested battle. The older boys let the younger have three extra people on their team, which seem to add to the amount of running. Angie and Danielle took the younger kids and soon had them involved in some sort of game. There was a small group of cheerleaders, but I never figured out exactly who or what they were cheering about.

After about 30 minutes, Vincent said it was time to go, so everyone went to the van for the zoo trip. This was an unusual group. We had Bukirwa Priscilla (Dick and Cheryl) and Muwanika Joan (Jay) two young girls both of whom stay at Vincent’s house. There was also Claire (Steed and Ellen) who has gone from among the lowest in her class to tops in Math and Okiria Moses (Barbara and James) who is doing very well in S4. Two others had been invited, but both were in boarding schools and neither had been allowed to leave on this weekend. So instead, we invited Nakagiri Justine (Dan and Lisa), our soon to be university graduate, and John Bosco (Pam and Sandy) who is also at university.

It was a quick ride to Garden City. I expected that our younger kids might have never seen the zoo, but we learned that only one of the bunch, Priscilla, had been to Garden City and only Justine had been to the zoo when she was in Primary School. When I asked he group about Garden City, tiny Priscilla caught my eye. Her look begged me not to mention her other trip to the mall. It came on Christmas Day 2006. Vincent and I took her there to shop for a Christmas dress and to buy her some lunch after her mother severely beat her.

I tried to organize the chaos a bit by keeping the food hawkers away until the kids had a chance to think about what they might want. Most wanted fried chicken or sausages (Priscilla wanted both!) but there was one pizza and some Chinese pork. Everyone seemed to enjoy their food, but they were ready to get moving. The zoo waited! Pricilla, by the way, remembered that Vincent took home a doggy bag during her other visit to Garden City. She took all her chicken and most of her chips in a doggy bag!

We had a bit of rain as we drove to the zoo, but it didn’t rain on us at all while we were there. These kids loved the zoo, from the young ones to our university students and project workers! There was a large group of monkeys passing through the zoo and they were as much fun as any of the exhibits. They were all but tame. A mother monkey even stretched out to nurse her baby within a few feet of our path.

When we were through, Angie bought sodas for everyone at the zoo restaurant. Everyone was talking at once, as excited about reliving their day as they had been anticipating it!

Everyone but poor Vincent napped on the way back to Kampala. He dropped kids near their homes as we drove through Ntinda. We went by the Guesthouse and freshened up, then headed for the Turkish Restaurant, the place our Dallas team chose for their last dinner with us. Michael, Dan, and Joseph met us there. We ordered pretty much the same things they’d ordered a week earlier, but no one was bothered by the repeat. The kabobs at this place are wonderful!

There was a bit of excitement at the end of the meal. All at once, people shrieked. It started behind the bar and spread through the restaurant. I didn’t get a good look at the creature that ran out of the kitchen, past a lot of tables, and into the night, but I was assured it was a rodent, whether mouse or rat remained a topic of debate as we rode back to the Guesthouse.

Friday, July 18: The Worst for Last

This was the last “work day” for the Dallas crew. Another trip to the zoo comes on Saturday along with Saturday School. And David preaches Sunday. But this would be the last day of visiting kids because their flight left Sunday night.

Vincent arrived a few minutes after 8:00 and we were ready to go. Our first stop was Surrey Secondary School. We had missed Esther there earlier in the week, but she had shown up at church on Wednesday night and didn’t appear to be sick at all. So Vincent went in and came back shaking his head. She was absent again.

We drove across Ntinda and down a very steep road, then stopped. Tenywa (Jack) was working on a new house with his builder brother. He explained that he was on break from the university until early August. He had just finished his first year, and he said the break from studying was a welcome one! He has now officially changed his major to journalism/mass communications. He wants to be on television someday as a TV Journalist. As we started to leave, he called me. He said each student in his program is required to have a video camera. He said he couldn’t complete the classes next term without one. I explained that we didn’t have money for such things in our budget, and I wasn’t comfortable asking for more from his sponsor. He seemed disappointed, but he agreed to explore sharing opportunities a bit more thoroughly.

David later volunteered to donate his video camera. He recently bought a high definition camera, so the perfectly good tape based system would be wasted. He plans to send the camera to Uganda soon after our return home.

While we were working with Tenwya, Grace was searching for Esther. She found the young woman at home, and she insisted that Esther come see us. She soon came to the van dressed in casual clothes. She said that this was the first day she had felt well. She started to go to school this morning, but her mother convinced her to wait until Monday. She didn’t show any signs of illness at all. I listened to her story, which basically involved being sick and not feeling like going to school, and told her that if she missed another day this year, we will terminate her in the Project. She promised she would be back in school on Monday. Since the school is within 5 blocks of the church, we will see! As we told her, there are so many kids in Uganda who want to go to school. If she doesn’t care to be one of them, she should move out of the way.

Presbytery was scheduled to begin at 9:00. David worked it out that only one of us would go to the meeting at a time (he stay an hour, then swap out with me). The meeting, however, got off to a rocky start because no one was there at 9:00. We decided to continue on seeing kids and we’d go to presbytery at lunch time. Then, David could talk about leadership and I about record keeping.

Since Esther had proven not to be very sick, we were equally skeptical at Up Hill College when we heard that Namagulah Rita (Laqueta and Robert) was also ill and so not at school. Grace and Vincent talked for a moment and decided to call her and tell her to come and meet us here at the school. This school was arranged in a most unusual way.. The entry gate was up a steep hill, but only about 8 feet from the roadway. The gate opened into a huge courtyard with shady areas. The buildings surrounding the courtyard were for primary grades. This, however, was also a secondary school. The secondary students were housed in a building behind one of the primary buildings. So, secondary students had to past through the primary school in going to and from school.

The head mistress here was concerned about our reaction since the girl wasn’t around. She had student workers bring out old student desks and put them under a very nice shade tree in the corner of the compound. They brought out desks for all of us, so we rested well while waiting for our sponsored child to come.

As I said, we were skeptical because the first girl didn’t appear sick at all. So when this girl in her spotless uniform climbed down from a boda boda and started up the hill, I must admit the same doubts emerged again. When she fainted dead away in front of the kindergarten classroom, I didn’t know what to do. The guard at the gate got to her first with Grace and Vincent immediately behind him. Angie also went running to the girl.

The guard and Grace got on her feet. She was extremely wobbly. They took her in one of the buildings and brought her water. Within ten minutes, she came out and took one of the desks. She said she had been sick for weeks, but only stayed out today. She was obviously very weak, so we drove her back to her home, a distance of more than 2 miles.

And this begins the most remarkable and horrifying adventure we’ve had in Uganda. On June 1, 2008, Chattanooga Times-FreePress carried an article by Kathy Pownall called,, “Uganda’s Children Work on Dangerous Rock Pile.” an article about a young boy who worked in a rock quarry in Uganda. The photograph showed a small boy in torn clothes sitting with a pile of rocks and a bucket. He is hitting a rock with a hammer-like device. The story said he was nine years old and lived alone because his mother had died in a cave-in last summer. The boy had continued living in the mud hut he’d shared with his mother and infant sister, but the baby had been taken to an orphanage. This boy, Stephen, had fled from fighting in Northern Uganda to the relative safety of this quarry, yet another example of the plight of the Invisible Children. They were quite the cause back when they were being taken from their homes in the night. With the tentative peace accords in place in the area, the children are safe from kidnap, but these children are still in terrible danger and we must work to get them established in schools.

Before we left home, I got a call from Jim. He said he had a message on his phone mail from a woman who wanted us to go look for Stephen. It seems her daughter worked for one of our sponsors, a mutual friend who knew that Jim had gone to Uganda with me. He told her how to contact Jim, who then gave the contact information to me.

I spoke with Tommy less than a week before our scheduled departure. She said she couldn’t get this boy off her mind, and she wanted me to go look for him. She said she would sponsor the boy if I could find him. I explained that there were tens of thousands of children around Kampala who desperately needed our help, so it might be hard to find Stephen. “Do your best,” Tommy said. “I can’t get that boy off my mind. But if you can’t find him, find somebody I can help.”

I wrote to Vincent who started calling people and before we landed in Uganda, he had a lead on this boy! It was time to go and find him.

We’ve seen rock for sale all over town. Products ranged from very thin irregular sheets as large as 8x10 to colorful gravel. The quarry sits on a ridge near Over Hill School. It’s visible from much of Entebbe, but it looks like any of the other hills except part of this one is gone and a huge sand-colored hole has replaced the dense jungle and houses on the nearby hills. We turned off the main road and onto a dirt one that was reasonably smooth at first. We drove along the base of the ridge with houses on both sides of the road. These houses were no worse than any around Kampala. But the world soon changed.

The road became steadily narrower and more deeply rutted. A man came out and waved to Vincent. They talked for a moment, then the man went away. “He is getting the boy for us,” said Vincent. “He knows where he is. He says the boy is working with his father.”

“Vincent, the story says the boy is an orphan. He doesn’t have a father,” I said. Vincent seemed troubled by this, but he soon started the van forward once again.

We turned up from the rows of houses. There was a long patch of nothing. In the distance, we could see the pit where huge pieces of rock were being extracted. Up ahead, there were more houses, rows and rows of them. These were almost all mud huts – long wooden poles parallel to the ground with mud between them. Many had eroded and were beginning to lean. The houses were alive with people. The row nearest our road sat down below the driving surface. It was reserved for stores mostly selling vegetables. From the road, we could look beyond the shops to see narrow alleys with rows of homes.

And there were children EVERYWHERE. Many were small and covered in dust from the quarry. Some had runny noses leaving tracks on their muddy faces. Some cried. This is the worst poverty we’ve seen in Uganda.

We crawled forward through ruts that required our four wheel drive. Some of the ruts had water in them and once there was a small pond to negotiate. We soon reached the end of the houses. Kampala spread down the valley and up the hill across from us. There were more of Africa’s unique greens, but there were also colorful homes and prosperity. Our road snaked more steeply upward and the going became even rougher. We followed the road to the edge of the quarry where a very old woman sat by a huge pile of gravel. She had a large rock and she was striking it with a device that resembled a hammer. Her hammer was a long piece of wood with a brass collar around the end. She was breaking the big rocks into smaller ones by striking them with something that didn’t have a weighted head on it. She was good at her job, however. It only took three or four blows to chip off a gravel.

Vincent’s friend returned and he and Vincent entered into a discussion about the young boy he’d found. Vincent explained that this couldn’t be the right boy, but the man disagreed. Vincent started to pull away. We had to go into the quarry area. Two well dressed young men began yelling to us. “Make sure he gives you the right boy,” said one of the men.

“He’ll only send you his relatives,” said the other. They kept laughing and walking toward the van. One of the men shook my hand.

“Vincent, I think it’s time we moved on,” I said. He turned the van around and we started back through this hell. Even more kids lined our route as the word had spread that there were bzungu here. Although some of the kids were laughing and playing, most of them stared at us with absolutely blank expressions. They didn’t shout and laugh and wave as most Ugandan kids do when we pass. Vincent stopped to tell the man that they would talk soon and we slipped away.

This was amazing, hopeless, paralyzing poverty. It was so bad that David had a hard time video- taping our route. And when it was over, we found that Lisa and I had shot fewer than 20 photos between us. No one spoke as we left the quarry. No one could.

David and I were nearly two hours late for presbytery, so Vincent hurried back to the church. We went in and found that they hadn’t reached our place on the agenda. We went into the meeting. There were three ladies from Kassanda, three gentlemen from Kiwatule, and one gentleman from Mpig sitting in church chairs in a huge circle on the dirt floor. As soon as we arrived, Joseph announced lunch. The ladies from Kiwatule began bringing in food. We had matoki with either meat or g-nut sauce (I opted for meat gravy with not meat!), rice, potatoes, greens, and a small container of what appeared to be green peas. “These are egg plants,” said Lydia as I came through the line. “They are very bitter.”

I sampled everything on my plate before the peas. Finally, I put two in my mouth. They didn’t take like peas at all, and they were incredibly bitter. Michael laughed when he saw me eat them. “They help the blood pressure,” he said once he’d settled down. I gave David two peas, and the result was the same. Since these things looked like something very familiar, it was hard to adjust to the bitterness!

I enjoyed this lunch, though I stayed away from the greasy meat. David didn’t, in fact he had two pieces of meat: one purely fat, while the other had a small bit of meat attached. He put that piece in his mouth, chewed it for a moment, then put it on my plate where it stayed.

After lunch, David spoke for a few minutes about leadership, then I gave an overview of how to keep minutes. There was no reaction to either. As I was finishing up, Pastor Jimmy and another of the elders from Mpigi came in. They had been at a funeral and were just then arriving in Kampala.

The rest of the agenda went quickly. After all was done, Pastor Jimmy read a letter that basically accused us of not giving his church money it had been promised. Trouble was nothing had been promised! Joseph handled a potentially explosive situation well, and we were ready to leave in a few minutes.

The van had returned, so we boarded and Vincent sped away. The Dallas crew wanted Thai food, so we went to our rooms and hurried back to the van. We called the others, but they were tied up and could not join us. The setting was relaxing. The tables sat under a tall wooden structure with open walls to gardens. Gardens below the setting area held a playground that entertained the towheaded children from the table behind us. Soft music lulled everyone into a peaceful mood as we had one of the best Thai meals that I’ve ever experienced.

We were in bed by midnight.

Thursday, July 17: The Tough Ones

You know, it happens this way every year. We go see more than a hundred kids. Some have colds. Some have torn a uniform. Some can’t decide which color blanket is best. All happy kids, pleased with school, living in a somewhat at least stable environment.

Then you get down to the end. Only a big handful to go to meet the goal of visiting every child. But these aren’t the happy kids, the kids with their act together because their world makes sense. These last few are the problems, the troubled kids, the stories, the real reasons we are here.

Lisa and I made us 10 minutes late on this our sprint day: a mad rush to visit all the remaining kids. We went to Najjera High School first. We visited there last week, but two girls were out sick. They came quickly to the van when Grace went in for them. The other kids at Najjera had seemed reasonably happy at least, but these two girls were surly. They didn’t want to answer our questions.

There was something wrong, but we couldn’t figure out what. So Vincent and Grace will keep an ear open to see if something is really wrong or if these were just two teen-aged girls on a bad day.

We went on to another high school and saw three very happy young men. Kunsa Rodney (Janice) is now within 2 inches of being as tall as I am, a very rare achievement for a Ugandan. He is adjusting well to secondary school and said he is working hard. Kyeyuhe Julius (Tom and Abigail) is still drawing. He is now taking art in secondary school and talking about being an art major in college.

We were on the eastern side of town, that strange mix of Muslim and Africa and Christianity. The east side has it all spread across a mixture of very poor people. This is Michael’s territory, he was born here and he has lived his entire life here. He met us at a crowded shopping market and joined us in the van. I always feel better over here when Michael is with us. He seems to know everyone.

Our first stop with Michael was St. Consolate Primary School. We parked and Grace went in. Within less than a minute, a young girl came charging out of the school. She ran up and hugged Grace, then she hugged me, then she hugged everyone. She was laughing, almost hysterically. This is Nassolo Mable, a young woman in P7, her last primary year. In this, her pivotal year (in P7, you take the Primary Leaving Exam, which decides whether you can continue to secondary school) this girl’s mother has abandoned her. No one came to visit her on Visitor’s Day.

The head mistress for the school asked Grace and me to come to her office. As I started to go, Danielle stopped me. “I have money left over. Use it here if this girl needs it.”

When I got to the office, I quickly saw the seriousness of the situation. It is mandatory that this girl live in the boarding school during this her test year so that she can study harder and longer than at home. Her mother agreed at the start of the term that if we paid tuition and fees she would pay for boarding. But she hasn’t paid a penny and the girl had a large past due balance.

To make it even worse, her sponsor also quit! No letter or call, just a year behind in payments and refusal to answer our many letters. So she had no letter or photographs. All she had to cheer her up was us.

The head mistress said the girl cried at night because she is afraid something is wrong with her mother. She also knows that her boarding fees are behind and she worries that she will be sent home. And she has been provided none of the requirements for living in the boarding section, like a mattress or the blanket we were giving her or the wash basin we were also providing. Grace said the mother is fine, she just doesn’t want to honor her promise.

I agreed to pay the past due balance. That would be one less thing for Nassolo to worry about. So the head mistress started telling her assistant about the amounts we owed. She told her to put down an amount, then added several things to it (all the add-to-its were in Luganda). I told Grace this seemed like too much, but she said no, it was okay. I ended up paying. Grace said she believed the mother would take care of the required supplies, she just couldn’t afford both the supplies and the boarding fee, even though she promised to do just that. Nassolo needs a sponsor if anyone feels so led.

And then, one of the high points of our trip! I recently met an official from the Church of Rwanda. He told me we needed to check out Uganda’s new Christian University. Namutebe Cathy, the daughter of Michael and Mabel, was accepted as a student there last term. I could hardly wait to see her!

The campus is most impressive. The huge gates open onto a plaza with a fountain and beautiful flowers. We drove past new buildings and older students in uniforms. We parked under a tree in a large, open lot. A few minutes later, Cathy hit! She was no less enthusiastic or happy than Nassolo. But Cathy is quick witted and sharp tongued, a wonderful combination if her target is David!

Cathy met everyone. She looked good in her uniform (she had been sick a bit earlier in the year). And her father just wanted to stand near her and glow: his first-born, a university student!

After she made the rounds, she looked at David. David has blond highlights in his hair, something Cathy has noted in the past. Today, she looked at him thoughtfully for a minute. “David, if you will come with me, I will cut those bad spots from your hair,” she said.

“Then I would have gaps all in my hair. It would look terrible,” said David.

“Oh, I would lend you some of these,” said Cathy as she twirled a dark black hair extension between her fingers. “I believe you need them far worse than I.”

With that, we all climbed back into the van. Cathy wanted to show us where she is living. It was a very long way from the huge campus – at least 2 miles. I was concerned about her safety in the evenings, but there was a shuttle schedule posted that seemed to cover late evening studies. We turned into the driveway of a brand new 4 story dorm. Construction wasn’t complete, but Cathy and a few other students had been invited to live here. They had applied late to the college, and ended up with the best rooms!

Cathy’s room was on the second floor and it was no different than any other college dorm, except that there were three beds (a single and bunk beds) in the space that would usually hold only two people. And there was no desk or bookshelves, only the beds. There was a private bathroom, however. Cathy’s room was spotless, and she was so proud to show it to us!

We dropped Cathy at the college entrance as we left. Michael glowed for the rest of the day.

During our Christmas 2006 trip, Michael got word from a teacher friend that there were two Muslim boys in serious trouble. Their mother had been dead for a while and the father had just died unexpectedly. The teacher was allowing the boys to live at her house, but she said she couldn’t keep them permanently and she had no money at all for school fees. The boys were twins, though one was two years ahead of the other in school. We met them then, and they were incredibly touched that Americans cared about them. We checked in with them last summer and they were doing very well in a Muslim school.

We were visiting them at Nile College, which is not Muslim. Grace went in to get them, but the head master insisted that I come in before he would allow the boys to come out. I talked to the head master, a young man from Ntenda, for a few minutes before one of the boys knocked on his door. I opened it and walked out. Katon Hussein (Collins) and Wasswa Hassan (Howards) were a little out of breath from running to meet me. They shook and shook and shook my hand, and they were both talking at once.

Last summer, the twins said their uncle sold the place where they had been living. The place had belonged to their father and they expected to live their forever, but the uncle sold it. He promised that he would care for them, but he insisted they move to their current location because he wanted them in a day school. They moved as he suggested, and they said he seemed to care about them. His wife, however, was a different thing. She didn’t want them eating up their food. She assigned them chores that were impossible to complete on school days. And she began telling the uncle that the boys were lazy, that they were gossips sharing his secrets in the street.

Finally, the uncle began to listen to his new wife. The boys said he began to scream at them at every opportunity. And this week, he had told the kitchen staff to stop feeding them. The only meal they were getting was the hot lunch at school, not enough for growing boys. And he had told them they could no longer sleep under his roof.

So these 15 year old boys had no place to live, not enough to eat, and no prospects at all to make things any different. I talked to the head master about boarding them at this school, but the price was very, very high. He said if I brought him more students he would look at his price, but that it was firm for these boys at about $750 per year each.

I talked with Grace and Vincent for a bit. They felt that the story was exactly true and that the boys were in serious trouble. They said they would look for two openings in a less expensive boarding school. Until then, we didn’t have a lot to offer.

So we loaded the boys up with all the food we were carrying. I gave them 10,000 shillings, which would buy a lot of food stall food in that area. And we told them not to worry. I hope we can move quickly enough to prevent a disaster here.

I take back my criticism of the road to Kassanda, or at least the part about that being the worst road in Uganda. The road to Butinindi is much worse! We hadn’t been on this road in four years, but it hadn’t improved with time. It felt very much like riding on a washboard with holes in it! We shook and shook and shook, then wham, the bottom would fall out as Vincent slipped into a pot hole. One of the holes was so deep I believe it was a gate to Narnia!

We had one small boy to see at the end of this very long and bouncy road: Senono Mavin (Gary). Senono is a very funny little boy. He is so full of energy and life. He has a huge smile that is absolutely infectious. He was a boarder at Rasa Model Day School, which was a bit old and shabby. He had on his shoes from Christmas, which were still at least three sizes too big for him.

I asked how he got here. His mother took him out of his school in Ntinda and moved him here to live with relatives. His teacher was very concerned. She said he wasn’t being cared for at all by these people and he was possibly being abused. She said he needed help. Grace agreed to call the mother, who is still in her place in Ntinda. Beyond that, we’ll have to see.

Someone came up with a great idea: we had a very large number of small crayon sets. There were 13 left in our box, so they sent Mavin back into the school to bring out 13 friends for this gift. I believe the boy grew a foot as he started back through the school gate.

It took him quite a while to gather up the kids. We expected to be swarmed and we were bracing for the deluge of children. We expected many more than Senono’s 13 would be coming out. But when we looked at the gate, out came Senono leading a reasonably straight line of 13 kids. They stopped and didn’t say a word until we spoke to them. Their eyes were huge. They didn’t particularly want to be near us. But there was not a sound from these kids. And they were an interesting group! Senono had chosen boys and girls, some obviously older than he and some obviously younger. I still can’t believe how well these kids behaved!

The road into St. John Senior Secondary School leads into a huge primary school. We entered the gate and pulled into chaos! The younger kids were having lunch, and they came running to see the Mzungu! We all jumped out. Angie and Danielle were immediately swarmed by kids. Angie organized her mob into a huge circle and it began to turn faster and faster until a young boy fell. Danielle led hers in the same exercise, but she never developed the style that Angie had. What Danielle had that no one else in the world has is an ability to make very strange faces. She led a huge group of kids in making a very strange assortment of faces, and I got everyone on my camera!

After a wonderfully long time, Nassimbwa Esereda (Marilyn) came to see us from the secondary school next door. This girl seemed to be on the ball. And she still loves math!

As we were preparing to leave, I saw one of the most amazing things ever. A young teacher walked up to the group of children. She began talking in a normal tone. The mass of kids quieted down almost instantly. Every little eye was focused on the teacher. In a normal tone, she said, “Let us thank our visitors for coming to see us.”

There was a chorus of “Thank yous.”

“And now it is time for us to go back to our room. Can we go there now please?” A mass of yellow, the uniforms on the backs of these kids, began to move across the plaza to their classroom. We didn’t see or hear another word from this teacher or her class.

We found three more students at New Style Primary School and soon found ourselves outside the gates waiting to see Zawedde Hilda (Tom and Linda). Grace went in first as was usually the case, but she returned after a while saying the head master wanted to see me. I followed her back to the Administration Offices and me the Dean of Students. He was trying to locate Hilda. Grace and I talked for a few minutes with the gentleman. He told us to stay put and we did. We waited for a long time, until I asked Grace if there was any way we could be at the wrong school. She said no, but eventually she began to doubt herself. She made a call, then announced that we were at the wrong branch of this school. We left as quickly as we could!

Our last stop for the day was at Caltec Academy. Mabuye Julius (Ron and Judy) wants very much to be a doctor. Last year was his S6 year and although he worked hard, he didn’t complete all the required reading. He wasn’t granted a certificate, so there was no way for him to start university. So Julius went back to a different school to take S6 over again.

We were at the end of a heavy shower, so the roads around Julius’ place had been transformed into gigantic mud puddles. Pot holes became a very serious concern because under these conditions, it was possible to slip into a pot hole and not get out. Vincent called Julius to get directions to where he was. In a few minutes, he came walking into the campus. Julius has now grown significantly taller than me!

We talked about his school work and his plans. He seems very determined, but once again has no backup plan if he struggles on his exam again. He simply said he wouldn’t fail to get into medical school in the fall! He asked us to come see his place. It was about 4 blocks from his school. It was a tall, building with a lot of outdoor decks. And there was a college male on every single one of them! Word seemed to pass very quickly that there were Mzungu women in this van because within minutes, men were staring at us from all directions. Two men even took off their shirts and began lifting weights for all the world to see.

Julius lives on the fourth floor and he wanted us to come up and see his place. We quickly decided that it would be better if I didn’t try to climb the narrow, dark stairs. The ladies didn’t want any part of going alone into Julius’ building.

We returned to the van and Vincent drove us home. We rested for half an hour, then went down to dinner. We put in our orders as soon as we arrived at Kiwatule (more than an hour ago).Vincent decided to eat with us, so he had a table when we walked back into the dining room. It was the first time this trip Vincent had come with us without the others. We had a very nice evening, waiting more than an hour (even with the orders turned in early) for our food, talking, laughing. I had grilled tilapia with some sort of sauce that was very, very greasy.

We had visited 11 schools and added 22 children to our “Visited List.”