Last Day in Gulu Town

It's Thursday afternoon and my last day in Gulu Town. Gulu Town, which has become my home for the last 5 weeks. I can't believe I'm packing to leave this incredible place and even more beautiful people. Yesterday was my last day at St. Jude's. By no surprise, saying goodbye to my children and new friends was one of the most difficult experiences of my life thus far. My fellow intern, Hannah, and I asked the teachers to translate some conversations with the children we became particularly close to. We had the teachers tell the kids we were so thankful to meet them, that we will miss them, and that we love them. Only some of them could actually grasp the concept of us not returning, but others (including my buddy Juliet, 2) didn't fully understand. Either way, Hannah and I left in tears holding on to our memories and photos of St. Jude's.

One of the orphanage "mamas"

Some of the children who live at St. Jude's 

Helping paint hands for the new mural 

Part of the new mural 

My classmate, Hannah, with some of the residents 

Moses, one of the children with special needs

She has the most beautiful eyes 

Ken posing infront of the nursery school 

Juliet finally smiling for a photo 

Eman, the girl with autism & the first child I met at St. Jude's

Eman & I enjoying my last day 

Regina with her freshly painted flower 

Sunday, one of my closest friends 

Somehow I managed to survive, wish I could do it all again 

That time I hiked the Nile

WHAT A LONG WEEKEND!

So we left early Saturday morning for Murchison Falls which is about a 3 hour drive on bumpy roads (nothing new.) We spent Saturday on a short game drive then a couple hours boating down the Nile River. As soon as we boarded the boat we saw hippos right next to us. They are HUGE. And so funny...I kept feeling like they were laughing at us because they would make this really loud honking noise.

Also on the cruise we saw about 10 different crocodiles. I AM OBSESSED. I was about ready to sacrifice my body so that I could get pictures. They would just sit with their mouths open on the land..and some were swimming in the water..so sneaky.

Finally we arrived at Murchison Falls! Which is a gigantic waterfall that we hiked to the top to. And believe me it was not a easy hike. I felt like I was having an asthma attach (I don't have asthma) but our guide said we weren't used to the altitude. Once we reached the top we all stood at the drop of the falls so we got soaked! Except it felt so nice and refreshing considering I was sweating bullets (Sorry Davis, not attractive.) After enjoying the sunset on the ferry back we headed to our student hostel for the night.

Ok let's me just clear something up...I am not a diva. Believe it or not, don't let the looks fool ya! I can rough it with the best of them (Thanks to the Kirbys forcing me to camp growing up!) but this "student hostel" was another story. First off our doors locked...but could also be unlocked from the OUTSIDE. So safe. Then I found a lizard in my bed (flashback to The Parent Trap.) And lastly a warthog was outside our door....besides the fact we had to sprint to the bathroom to avoid the bats....So needless to say I was ready to be up at 5:30am get out the door for the big game drive.

The big game drive was INCREDIBLE. I have never seen so many beautiful animals so close before. We saw leopards, monkeys, giraffes, elephants, warthogs, gazelle type things. I kept wishing my dad was there, he would've loved to take pictures. Not to mention the fact that he has some talent in animal calls. Dad-- I'm taking you to Africa once I graduate. You. Must. Go. of all people.

So after the long day of safari I was excited to head to my "home" of Kakanyero Hotel. I can't wait to see my kids at St. Jude's tomorrow. I've been thinking of them the entire day and I can't believe I only have 3 more days with them.

As for you lovely people, thank you for keeping up with my blog thus far. It really makes it so much easier to know I have you as an incredible support system.

Until next time!

Baby hippo crawling around

Croc heading for the water

Murchison Falls! 

ON TOP OF THE NILE!

Male giraffes are darker in color 

Baby and mama 

Elephant friend! 

Before he turned to charge us....

My favorite little bug crawling on me 

St. Jude's march (not sure of the significance) 

Ken (left) and Nelly (right)..some of my favorite K1 boys! 

Eman, my little friend with Autism, making me walk her around..My Daddy used to do the same thing with me!

Chaco tan progress 

We are the youngsters—St. Jude’s….of Gulu!

Jared (one year) & I playing in my K2 class 

K2 class & I practicing traditional music and dance 

Hair braiding time

Another day at the St. Jude's hair salon with Sunday & Kabila on my lap 

A little hair twist from my friend Nancy 

.  I'm not certain why the pictures are at the top...but enjoy!

To catch all everyone up let me just recap these last few days…

1.     Attacked by red ants at St. Jude’swas ToTaLlY a BlAsT. 

2.     We decided that face painting would be a good idea Monday afternoon. Why? I have no idea. When would it ever be a good idea to take on 40 children when we were only manned with 2 paintbrushes??? So naturally I paint a snake on a little boy’s face and he immediately washes it off and asks for Spider-man instead. 

3.     My hair is braided. Currently 20 baby braids in my hair and I loveee it. Not cornrows, I repeat, not cornrows.

4.     Who knew I was going to be in Uganda during rainy season (obviously not me.) It will rain about once a day here but it still gets really sunny too...kind of like the beach. Yesterday it absolutely monsoon-ed and flooded the streets. Which was really fun until I realized how slick all of the eroded mud became and I slipped in my flip-flops. KeWL.

5.     I’m obsessed with St. Jude’s Nursery School and Orphanage. Literally obsessed. Today when I was leaving one of the little boys named Sunday teared up…so of course I teared up as well. There’s moments when reality hits me hard there. Today one of the social workers, Kane, told me that a girl I have become close to, Cecelia, has been at St. Jude’s since she was one week old. Her mother passed when she was born and her father did not want her and does not want to visit. I couldn’t imagine never having a home of my own. This cycle of growing up at the orphanage and seeing others grow older and leave is nothing new to her.

6.     On a happier note I’ve become friends with a 2-year-old girl named Juliet. She’s like the playground gossip queen AND she’s chubby…I’m in love with her and we’re basically inseparable.

7.     There’s an avocado tree at St. Jude’s *~*AnD i LoVe It*~*

8.     We were gifted a goat…an entire live goat. So we’re having it for our end of the trip celebration party. I’ve promised to try one bite in order to become more cultured.

9.     THIS WEEKEND IS SAFARI WEEKEND. So I’ll be hanging with my best elephant and lion friends Saturday & Sunday at Murchison Falls. Saturday we are hiking The Nile which I am NOT game for. I keep having flashbacks to this Discovery Channel story where a man was ripped out of his kayak by a crocodile on The Nile. Although I won’t be in a Kayak or in the water I’m not ruling this scenario out. However, I am trying to get my hands on a safari hat of some sort to even out the pro/con list.

10. And last but certainly not least…. we have hot water!! I had my first hot shower in 4 weeks yesterday and I am definitely not mad. The only problem is we have the choice of either scolding hot or still pretty cold. So it’s pretty fun trying to find a happy medium.

As I am writing this I am sitting on my balcony on the 3^rd story of Kakanyero Hotel staring out at Gulu Town. I truly love this town. Only one more week in Gulu, then it’s off to Entebbe! 

So this is what it feels like to fall off a motorcycle

First, Mom & Dad: Please don't freak out.

So last night my roommate Kelsey & I decided to go to a muzungu (white person) restaurant to get some wifi and to enjoy some familiar food. After catching up on Facebook and having the best omelet of my life (seriously) we both flagged down some boda bodas (motorcycles) to take us home. Kelsey's took off right when she jumped on and started making the way back to Hotel Kakanyero. Following her lead I jumped on mine and we began. Almost immediately before I could even get settled I found myself heading face down into the dirt. It seemed that our back tire got stuck and our boda began to tip which is how I ended up on the ground. Luckily my driver kept the bike from landing on me. 

Once I stood up I realized I was completely fine besides a few scratches on my hands. I know my driver did not mean to crash us but if you know me at all you know that I was pretty pissed (for a lack of better word.) However, there were no other bodas in sight so I had no other option but to get back on. Isn't there some saying about falling off a bike and getting back on? If not, there should be. If you could imagine this whole incident made for a VERY awkward ride home...me grumbling in the back in English and him grumbling in the front in Acholi. 

All in all, I'm fine. (READ THAT AGAIN MOM & DAD, I'M FINE.) But it does make for a funny story...and I will be back on a boda tomorrow!! 

Cultural or Ignorant?

Tuesday evening I experienced something that I was in no way prepared for, nor do I believe I could have been prepared for the situation at all. 

Looking for an inexpensive, filling, meal a few of us decided to have dinner at our new favorite restaurant, Amigo’s. Like usual, we all gathered around a small folding table outside, ordered, then chatted while waiting for our food. The conversation was much lighter than usual, which was a good change of pace compared to the normal heavily emotional topics. We spoke of the new royal baby, the great chicken place on the corner, and of course, what we were going to do this weekend.

Just a few minutes after all of us started to dig in I looked up to my left to see my roommate, Kelsey Landis, in pure horror. Within the same second I heard a loud, unfamiliar, smack. As I quickly looked to my right I saw a woman with a thick, long, wooden pole swinging furiously at a raggedly dressed man. The man looked to be in either his 30’s or 40’s and was now flailing his arms at the woman. As I saw the pole come back again I realized it was now heading right over my head and Kelsey pulled me to her side, taking me from my seat. The man was yelling, the woman was yelling, and our entire table sat in silence. She continued to beat him until the pole snapped in half and he scurried off.  A few seconds after the scene ended I realized I was standing next to the table with my jaw probably on the floor. After a few more seconds I realized that the entire restaurant and bar were laughing at the occurrence. Laughing at this homeless (assuming) man being beaten by a stick 15 feet away from us. The same occurrence that just made me lose my appetite.

The remainder of our dinner was pretty quiet and awkward; none of us could muster up proper conversation after what we had just witnessed. On the walk home I couldn’t help but repeat the scene in my head over and over. I also then realized that I had seen this man before. Earlier this same afternoon I was exchanging bills at the bank and saw him on a corner close to Amigo’s behaving oddly and talking to himself. I guess I cannot be certain, but I believe the man was suffering from some type of mental illness.

I find it so hard to understand why there are so man NGO’s all over Uganda, more specifically Gulu, yet not one that I have heard of who is advocating for those with mental illness. Why can we (not specifically GSSAP) as so-called advocates for humanity supply clothing and petty gifts for Northern Ugandans but can not give these people with mental illness the proper medication or treatment to allow them to live better? I know the problem is not the funding. I believe the funding could be found. I think the problem is it is much, “cooler” to say you are supporting little children or even, “invisible children” if you will, rather than supporting the dirty and sometimes frightening mentally ill or unstable.

            I just find it so difficult that others do not see that these people need to be advocated and cared for. They are part of our race.           

The Electric Side Knows No Boundaries

Last night marks my first successful trip to the bars in Uganda. Party, party, party, let’s all get wasted. Just kidding. But a few of us decided to try out a local place called Karma that we’d heard about. We made a pact before hand that we would stay for 30 minutes…45 max just to say we went. About an hour and a couple Bell beers (African beer) later we were teaching a majority of the bar the American classic line dance, the electric slide. I couldn’t make this up. Just picture 5 or 6 American girls teaching a bar filled with Ugandans the electric slide. They were loving it…or at least they were acting like they were loving it. And a side note if you want to feel like a horrible dancer just try to act like you have any rhythm next to a Ugandan. Confidence shot. But anyway it was one of the best nights I’ve had in Gulu so far.  Did I mention that when we were leaving we noticed that most people grab a fresh chicken on a stick from the street vendor as their drunchie? I may just have to try that next time. 

Hanging heavy on my heart

Recently Hannah and I made our first visit to our internship at St. Jude’s Orphanage. Upon arrival we met Brother Elio, who is one of the directors for the home. After a short introduction of the home Brother Elio informed us of all the different sections of St. Jude’s, including the nursery school, primary school, and consolation side. After only a little explanation I became well aware of the functions of most of those areas, except for the, “consolation side.” I think my puzzled face gave away that I wasn’t certain of what he was referencing. He then explained that the consolation side consists of buildings that house the children with disabilities. Almost on cue, a small girl, maybe six or seven, wearing a stained t-shirt and too large of pants, walked directly into Brother Elio’s office and climbed onto my lap. I try to avoid clichés, but I think my heart may have melted. At that moment I felt at home. I use this strong description because of my history with children and adults with disabilities. I’ve spent most of my life working with and mentoring people with disabilities.It’s a familiar and comforting feeling when I feel a tug on my hand only to look down and see a playful yet sneaky smile. Again, I immediately felt like I was where I was supposed to be.

            Once our little visitor, Eman, calmed her giggles, Dr. Rox encouraged me to share with Brother Elio my previous history with children with disabilities. He seemed to be excited to have someone with experience and knowledge on these circumstances. His face then changed from being welcoming and cheerful to more serious and concerned. He went on to tell us that although orphanages are not hard to come by in Gulu, St Jude’s is one of the few to accept children with disabilities. His next sentence was one that I quite literally will never forget. With a prolonged pause he said, “These children have the right to be born but not the right to live.” I must have heard him wrong, I thought. Children not having the right to live? I could feel my stomach begin to turn.

            Brother Elio then changed the subject, elaborating on the different duties Hannah and I would hold while we were interning, but my mind hung onto his last sentence. From my experience I am aware that children with disabilities are often mistreated or given up to group homes. I understand there are certain situations that cause the parents to feel that the children would be better off somewhere else; however, never have I heard that someone feels that these children or people do not have the right to have life.

            So far, this conversation at St. Jude’s has been my most emotional draining and difficult experience. I remember at one of the prior to departure meetings at Dr. Rox’s home we were told by a former GSSAPer that we may see or hear some things that will shock us.

            In conclusion, Gulu, Uganda has proven to be a much more modernized city than I could have imagined. There are so many factors of the city and culture that make it much more similar to America than I knew before; however, this conflicting belief has reminded me that there are still differences that we will not always agree on.