A Final Post from Kampala

Last night, Nick and I joined Agie, Betty, and Charlotte - our friend who lives where we are staying - for Yoga class at the headquarters of a NGO called In Movement. For the last 10 minutes, we relaxed as the instructor told us to empty any mental blockage. She placed blankets on our bodies, lit candles, and turned off the relaxing music that had been playing throughout our session. With the exception of Charlotte and I, everybody received eye covers. After class, we wondered if we did something wrong, but I think she just ran out.

Toward the end of the 10 minutes, the teacher said, “Start listening to the sounds around you and remembering where you are.” I heard the speeding boda-bodas, voices, music, some type of banging, and the wind. Memories from the last 7 weeks whisked through my mind; riding through the city on boda boda, cooking at Agie’s, banter with Jengo, an amazing graduation party, swim lessons, visiting homes, the dancing of EAC children, floating down the Nile with waves attacking me, Peter’s introduction, Rose’s humor, getting to know the US Scholarship Students, conquering a difficult project, great discussions, a few scary moments, and friendships.

This will be my last posting from Kampala, but I still have so much to share in updates from the US– pictures and memories. Thanks to everybody for their concerns and prayers over the past few days. Please keep the safety of our Ugandan family in your prayers and hearts.

See you soon in the Big D – home of America’s Team.

- Feldman

"There's five minutes left. Lets just stay," I pleaded.

"That's fine, but Betty and I are leaving," Agie responded.

Nick nudged me and said with slight force, "Michael, just come.

We were at Punchline, a local pork and chicken joint, watching the finals of the World Cup. Spain had just scored, and I believed Agnes who was supporting the Netherlands had just given up. I missed her saying she received a phone call about a bomb exploding a mile away at the Ethiopian Village.

As we entered our final week in Kampala, I realized our final hill was going to be little scarier and steeper than the others. After trying to find out what was going on, I went to sleep uncertain, praying lost lives were none or limited. Not wanting to instigate fear, I made a mistaken decision to go to bed, find out the situation in the morning, and then call my parents. Meanwhile, at around 2 am our time, a dialogue between Ingram advisors, EAC staff, and our families regarding our safety began. News travels fast, and people in the US knew more information than Nick and I.

At 7 am, I woke up to the vibration of Nick's phone. Agie was calling to tell us to call our parents. In the next 20 minutes, I learned from my mom, dad, and brother Jeffrey, the extent of the Kampala bombings.

We went to Agie's home Monday night to watch the news on her TV. Statements from both President Obama and President Museveni of Uganda called the acts "cowardly." I cannot think of a better word. To bomb defenseless humans enjoying a game meant to bring us together is about as low as a person can go. It's hard for me to grasp how someone could think such acts of terror are a way to bring change.

In my first posting from Kampala, I wrote about a lively street dance between cars, people, and motorcycles. On Monday, the dance was tame. For now, the streets of Kampala are calm, but the people of Uganda are much stronger than those who strap bombs on their backs to kill innocent people. They will prevail. The bombings of Sunday night and recent bomb scares will become mere history. Restaurants and bars will fill with people watching soccer games, and the spirited dance of people and vehicles, which make this city contagious, will resume.

- Feldman

Blessed.

That's the only fitting word to use.

On Sunday, July 11th, large crowds gathered in unison to watch a momentous event for Africa: the World Cup Finals. Being held for the first time in Africa, there was suspicion that Africa wouldn't be able to handle such an international event. But, seemingly, the entire tournament went flawlessly without a hitch. It was something for the entire continent of Africa to celebrate. And, that's exactly what the citizens of Uganda intended to do.

Joining the crowds of thousands of people, Michael, our friends, and I decided to join in the excitement to watch the final match between Spain and the Netherlands. Going to a local bar close to home, we arrived a few minutes after the game began. The place was packed. We searched eagerly for chairs around the bar with little luck. Everyone wanted to take part in this moment of history.

The place was exciting as people wore their "Africa United" jerseys, ate their meals, and squealed with happiness or dismay as football strikers passed the black-and-white ball across the field. It seemed like just another normal night.

At the end of the 90-minute match, the score was still 0-0. Just a little after 11:00 PM, the bar was filled with excitement and suspense as the match went into 30 minute overtime. The Orange Dutch and Blue Spainiards battled on the field as we all anxiously watched with anticipation. Preparing to gear up for a long match that would be settled with free kicks, there was suddenly a quick kick into the goal with only a few minutes on the clock, and with that, the Spainards put themselves in the lead. The crowd went nuts as Spain-supporters celebrated with joy, and Dutch supporters shook their heads with disappointment. "It's time to go." Agie said. I was tired, and it didn't look like there was any chance for the Dutch to make a comeback, so I was ready. Our other friends asked, "Why? Let's just stay til the end." "Kampala has been bombed. Let's go now." Confused, shocked, scared, I didn't know what happened. We left the bar as people continued to sit in their white, plastic chairs oblivious to the terror occurring right outside.

Speeding home, we asked for an explanation. What kind of bomb? Where? Is everything ok? Why? No answers. In five minutes, we were back home safe. Wanting to learn more, Michael and I peeked into the house manager's tiny room and asked to watch what was happening on the news. With only one channel, she was watching the celebration of Spain winning the World Cup. As the rest of the world rejoiced with Spain, we sat in a small room anxious to learn more, but completely clueless of anything.

The next morning, I woke up to a phone call. Agie, "Call your mom, she's worried." I called her immediately, thinking, "Oh man, I bet she's worried." With traces of fear in their voices, my mom and dad asked if I was ok over speaker phone. They went on to tell me that 64 people had been killed at two separate locations within the city, a number that would eventually rise to 74, with more than 70 hospitalized. Sadly, my parents, thousands of miles away, knew more information than I did. With internet down and limited access to a television, we knew nothing.

Later, we found more information from newspapers plastered across the city with gruesome uncensored pictures, learning that 2 suicide bombers (members of al-Shabab, an extremist Somalia Muslim group,with the intent to kill large Ugandan crowds because of Uganda sending peacekeeping troops to Somalia) walked into two local bars where large, innocent groups of people watched the World Cup. One bar was located less than a mile from where we watched the game that night. In addition, Michael and I had been to the other place that had been bombed on Friday night (less than 48 hours from the bombs) with our housemates. We're blessed. It could've been us. God is good.

Michael and I are safe. Security is high, and there have been numerous pledges for support from across the world. Our office is next to the high-security US Embassy, and everything seems to be slowly getting back to normal. We are still being extra cautious and staying away from large public places.

Thanks to everyone for the emails, text messages, Facebook messages, everything. Once again, I'm so blessed to be surrounded by people who care and love me so much. Thank you.

I've been in Kampala for almost 7 weeks now, and as I've repeatedly posted on this very blog, I've fallen in love with the people here. It pains me so much to see a city that is on the road to building itself up to now have to live in fear of terror. It's disheartening to see the progressive steps that Uganda has been taking toward positive change, and to know in the back of my mind, that there may be long-term setbacks to the well-being of Uganda's citizens.

That's why education is so important. A couple of weeks ago, I finished reading Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson, which details how Mortenson uses education to combat terror. When there is a lack of education and high poverty, people can become vulnerable to extreme beliefs in the hopes of achieving status or finding religious favor. Without opportunities for self-development, for them, the only way to lead a purposeful life is to kill others. They themselves are victims to societal terrorism, yet, ironically, they in turn begin perpetuating terrorism upon others. It's a never-ending cycle.

Mortenson's message resonates loudly with me now. The cure is access to education. People must be equipped with critical thinking skills and opportunities for self-development, so that their only option for "success" isn't seen as engaging in violence and hatred. Education brings awareness and understanding. When people learn about other cultures and how to deal with people, they are less likely to engage in such senseless violence. In no way did the deaths of 74 Ugandans solve any issues. In fact, it will only cause more. With education, people are able to equip themselves for advancement. They don't fall for just anything that a powerful leader tells them and automatically agree in order to receive favor.

Of course, my family and friends want me to come home. And, honestly, I'm ready to be reunited with everyone back in the States also. But, I came here to complete a project. A project that is even more important and close to me because of the attacks. I'm dedicated to the citizens of Uganda. While I must be safe, I can't simply run away from the issue. If Uganda ever needed help, the time is now. No, I'm not saying that me being here is going to dramatically change the lifestyle of Uganda. But, I can't simply abandon the people that I've grown to love. Through our project, EAC will be able to communicate to others the results of their wonderful work. EAC will be able to develop stronger, more efficient programs to benefit Ugandan children. Around the world, people will be more aware of global education issues, and maybe, just maybe, there will be some kind of change for progress in Africa.

And for me, that maybe is worth it all.

See you soon.

-Nick

A Scattered, Somewhat "Logical" Posting

Looking back at my previous entries, I realized little is written about our Ingram project for EAC. In this entry, I will connect creating logic models to some of the amazing experiences I have yet to write about.

Until the arrival of EAC's US visitors, Nick and I spent our days in the office conducting interviews every so often and producing drafts of our models. Days were full of conversations about phrases, what boxes arrows should be connected to, and whether outcomes were truly measurable. The arrival of visitors changed the structure of our days for the better. Each day until about noon was spent in the office working on drafts. Then, in the afternoons, we would join the visitors in activities when relevant to our project. These experiences helped me to process the flow of our model. Seeing where EAC children start is essential to understanding what the outcomes of EAC's programming should be.

Two of our afternoons were spent visiting the homes of EAC children. For me, the impact of these visits came from knowing the children on a personal level before seeing their homes. The first home we visited was Maureen's. She is friendly, and a wonderful conversationalist. When we were picking up the Mack's from the airport, we had a discussion about the United States, Luganda, and how I felt when I first arrived to Africa.

The next day as we approached her home a swarm of children wearing mix matched clothes and shoes of the wrong size with missing straps ran toward us. Some of the visitors brought candy to hand out to them. I bought out the mangos at a fruit stand to give to the children. Seeing a 2 or 3 year old girl biting through and finishing a whole mango was pretty amazing.

We were invited into Maureen's one-room home two at a time. There were beds shared by the children and one for the mother. Limited storage led to stacking of items and light was limited. Maureen smiled as she showed us a picture of her younger brother. Her mother was appreciative of our visit. She was gracious and provided us with "Obama Chipatti," which is by default of its name the best in Kampala. Chipatti is an Indian flavorful tortilla-like bread, which is sold on the streets. My favorite way to eat chapatti is with a tomato and sometimes green pepper omelet in the middle. This delicious street food is known as a rolex. Maureen's mother told us about her typical day, which begins early and ends late. She cooks pork for one of Kampala's best pork joints. On most days, she does not return home until around 9 or 10 so when Maureen comes to visit she spends little time with her. Her hard work allows for her children to attend school.

As we drove away, I wanted to hug Maureen for being so strong and supportive of her family. The contrast between her home and the amenities provided by EAC are vast; yet, she returns to her mother with such love and remains proud of her family. This is a reflection of one of EAC's missions - to keep children connected to their communities. Their is no doubt in my mind Maureen will take advantage of her opportunities and assist her community. My job is to figure out how to measure this variable. Two days later, we visited the home of Sharon, which Nick discussed in one of his postings. I felt many of the same emotions as we walked through Sharon's home two by two.

WIth the EAC visitors, we also had the opportunity to visit two other NGOs, which gave me insight into some of the challenges faced by Ugandan children. The Sanyu Babies Home is an orphanage for 50 abandoned babies. During our time there, I played with many of the children. A few were very funny. Arnold reminded me of myself. He loved pineapple, and would go to great lengths for the fruit. He stole from the other babies and ate their extras from the dirty ground. Another child was mean. He found a water bottle on the ground and began chasing and hitting me with it. A third child, Edith, sat on my lap for 10 minutes while she ate a whole egg.

The second NGO we visited was Retrak, which provides a place for street children, mostly male, to find safety. There is a place for them to stay, play soccer, and learning opportunities. We spent from midday until 4 at Retrak one Friday. The visitors, some of EAC students and US visitors played the children in a game of soccer, which was dubbed "Ghana vs. USA." Indeed, the outcome was the same! Next, we danced, ate, and had a dance competition. Peter- an EAC US Scholarship student - served as the DJ, a reflection of the mission of the program to have students come back to their communities. I wondered how Peter contributing to Retrak could be measured in our model. After lunch, a dance off between the children provided everyone with laughs and fun. Jengo, Brian, Noel, and Faith - EAC students - also danced. Nick and I connected with one of the children . He really wished he could attend school, but he did not have the money for school fees. He was well spoken and clearly very intelligent. To think his potential may be be squandered by his circumstance is still hard for me to grapple.

In conclusion, visiting homes and NGOs may seem disconnected from our project, but the experiences I had at each of those places assisted me more than a conversation about arrows.

- Feldman

Row, Row, Row Your Boat...

Well, it sure wasn't gently. And, I definitely wouldn't call it a stream. Rafting down the Nile River was nothing short of EXTREME!

Waking up early in the morning to travel to Jinja, Michael and I slipped into our swimsuits, slathered on suntan lotion, and prepared for the day-long ride of a lifetime. We caught early morning bodas and headed downtown to our meeting spot to meet up with the rest of the visitors. We climbed aboard a bus and made the trek to the town of Jinja, where the source of the Nile River is located. As we crossed a bridge, we could see rapids in the distance. As a first-time rafter, I looked on wide-eyed and amazed. One of the visitors, Dave, looked at me and said, "Dude, that's nothing, probably a level-2. What we're rafting today, that's a level-5! Just wait!" The adrenaline already pumping, I thought to myself, "Either go hard, or don't go at all!" In America, there aren't many level-5 rapids. Level-5 is the highest level of rafting allowed. The Nile is notorious for its adventurous rafting experience. In fact, the Nile River Rapids are listed in the top 10 in the world. Honestly, I don't think I knew what I was getting into.

After an hour and a half of level-5 Uganda roads, we finally arrived to the campsite. We gathered our gear, got a quick pep talk, and headed down to the river. It was a beautiful, sunny day with a nice breeze: perfect for rafting. My instructor was from Memphis, TN, so we chatted about familiar schools and landmarks. I guess Disney was right, it's a small world afterall.

We arrived along the bank, face-to-face with the Great White Nile. "Who's gonna be in the front?" "Oh, I will!" I said enthusiastically, ready to face the day head-on. Climbing onto the boat, we practiced rowing in sync, holding on, protecting our oars, and how to properly flip for safety stuff. Normally impatient, I cautiously listened to my fellow Memphian's advice. There was no room for error. "Has anyone ever died?" someone asked. "No, but last week we airlifted a guy who had spinal injuries." Let's just say I had a few conversations with Jesus after hearing that. Mom, this is why I waited til AFTER the trip to tell you all about it.

With safety procedures understood, we set out for the real thing. As a boat, we were pretty good. We made it through most of the rocky rafts, getting wet, rocked by waves, and smiling in the end. But, one rapid, BIG BROTHER...oh yeah, it was amazing. After easily making it through the first 2 rapids without much struggle, I was beginning to doubt the Nile. But, just when I thought I had it all figured out, Mother Nature slapped me in the face. Literally. We inched through the water as the roar of Big Brother, a level 5 rapid, thundered within feet of us. "Don't forget to row!" shouted our guide. But, it was too late. We were all entranced by the glory of the magnificent waterfall before us. "Forward!" Uncoordinated, we all began waving our paddles into the rushing waters, trying to stay afloat. Ah, but Big Brother wasn't having it. Within seconds, we crashed into the pounding waters, managing to stay afloat for the first wave. But, the second proved to be no match for our plastic paddles and rafting boat. Diving into the water, I tried to swim. However, I soon realized that I wasn't in control. As the Beatles sang, I had to "Let it be" Balling into the fetal position, I crashed into the waves, struggling to hang on to my paddle. I came up into the air, thinking it was over. Nope. Swish! The Nile seemed to slap me in the face, saying, "Take that! You can't handle this!" I crashed in and out of the powerful waves, seeing my "shipmates" flailing around, too. Finally I floated out into the distance and caught hold of the saftey kayaks, who carried me to calm waters along with the rest of the crew. We all gathered into the boat, still shocked from the crash. "THAT WAS AWESOME! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!" I said to the guide. I think everyone thought I was a little loony, but most of the others enjoyed it too. Ah, I think rafting might just become a summer tradition of mine.

We tirelessly rowed through the calmer waters of the Nile after stopping for sandwiches on a small island. I had the sweetest pineapple in my life! Ah, so good! While rafting through the still waters, the sun shone down intensely on us, giving us all crisp tans. We all decided to go for a cool swim down the lazy river. Splishing and splashing through the waters, I realized the beauty of nature and was amazed at God's ability to create such beautiful scenery. The rolling hills of Uganda, the flawless design of birds, the picture-book sky above, it was all so perfect. You always hear about those serene moments that people have with nature, and just like what I just wrote, it sounds kinda cheesy. But, experiencing it there in that moment, it all made sense. From splashing rapids to the calmness of stillness, nature is beautiful.

We successfully made it through more rapids, and approaching the last one of the day, we hopped out of the boat onto dry land, carrying our boat. This last rapid was a level-6, meaning it's un-raftable. We made a barefoot trek through the rocky hills. Our tender feet weren't accustomed to the rough surfaces. Bryan, a local Ugandan, rushed past us easily stepping on the rocky stones and hot surfaces, laughing at our awkward tiptoes and pain-filled grimaces. The tail-end of the last rapid is able to be rafted on, so we perched on a rock, getting one last calm glimpse of the monster that we just passed, before hopping back into the raft for our last adventure of the day.

Safely making it through, we did a celebration swim, hopped back aboard, and made it to our finishing point. Climbing the top of yet another rocky hill, it was all worth as the smell of muchomo (beef, pineapple, onion, pepper shish kabobs) filled the air. We all sat together, tired, excited, adrenaline still pumping, had a drink, ate our feast, and shared stories of how amazing the day was. Just another day in Uganda. Life is but a dream.

-Nick

CHECK OUT OUR GRADUAL PROGRESSION DOWN A WATERFALL ON THE NILE (LEVEL-5); We made it through without flipping! HUAH!

Nile Special Part 1

Unfortunately, days pass faster than I can write about them. In fact, I am 10-11 days behind in my updates. Last Thursday, the US visitors departed for home - my fate in 2 weeks. For Nick and me, their presence was beneficial because we were able to escape the office for a few hours at a time to do the important type of research we were doing the first week of our project. We visited two more homes of EAC children, an orphanage for abandoned babies, and an organization aiding street children. In addition, on Saturday, we went to a traditional Introduction - a giving away ceremony before marriage. We also met with Jeremy to discuss our models and produced more drafts. Needless to say, I have a great deal to write about. However, as my time in Kampala becomes shorter, the time I have to dedicate to the blog dwindles. I will try to write more updates at night to update during the day. If not, when I return home, my updates will continue. For now, enjoy these pictures of Nick and I rafting the Nile. The pictures speak to the experience more than my words could. Many of the rapids on the Nile are class 5 - a level not allowed in the US. Because the water is deep, the risks of hitting your head on a rock is not as high as in Colorado or somewhere else in the US, which is why you are able to raft these intense rapids.

- Feldman Approaching a rapid called Big BrotherBriefly after approaching Big Brother

A Proper Introduction

(Michael, Edith, Rose with me at Peter's introduction!)

In Kampala, weddings are a little bit different than in the States. When a man finds a suitable bride, he must first prove himself worthy of marrying a father's daughter. So, the daughter holds an introduction for her family. She introduces her groom-to-be. The groom must show that he is able to provide by bringing a dowry of the father's approval. The entire process is an exciting event that Michael and I luckily got to attend!

Peter, the artistic director of Spirit of Uganda and Aggie's brother, recently decided to get married to his longtime girlfriend. In preparation for the introduction ceremony, he held several meetings for family and friends to help fund raise for supplies. Though we never attended one, it's a rally of auctioning for supplies. Anything from eggs to chickens to sofas are up for grabs. It's an exciting event that could leave your wallet a little empty at the end.

After holding enough meetings to raise enough money to coordinate an introduction ceremony, Peter and friends go out to buy supplies. The father of the bride wanted strong cows, crates of drinks, money, a goat, chickens, dancers, and countless other things for Peter to prove himself worthy.

On Saturday, the day finally arrived. Because the event is a special one for the families involved, everyone dresses up. Peter and his bride decided to make the occasion traditional. Thus, all the women had to wear basutis and the men, kanzus with a jacket over it. So, Michael and I got dressed at Aggie's with our sophisticated new fashion apparel. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but we looked good! :) The kanzu is a long-flowing white/cream tunic with minimal embroidery on it. All the ladies arrived at Aggie's house and began putting on their basutis. Though it's not the most comfortable or modern piece of clothing, all of the ladies looked so elegant and beautiful. Basutis are elaborate dresses with colorful designs, pointed shoulder pads, and matching long belts. We each packed tissues into our pockets, knowing that Africa's heat and our traditional ware would cause for a sizzling, exciting day.

We met up with the groom's procession and followed behind the truck that held the cows and goat. It was pretty exciting. We all waited at a local restaurant because the family wasn't ready for us. There, we took pictures and compared outfits together. Finally, we all began to walk toward the bride's house. There, we formed gender-based lines and entered into a procession. With a large tent and stage set up, most of the bride's family and friends eagerly awaited our arrival. Peter, the groom, was mixed in with us. He had no distinction from the rest of us. We finally all made it into our seats, and the ceremony began. Since it was spoken in Luganda, most of the ceremony was a blur for me. Zziwa, the EAC driver, translated every once and a while. Two MCs, who serve as representatives for the bride and groom banter back and forth about what the family wants. It's a very playful process. The bride's family comes out expecting gifts. The event was festive and full of color and energy. In between, local dancers would portray "guy meets girl" scenes to rhythmic beats and joyful songs.

Aunties are a big deal in the marriage process. Once the family sees that Peter is fit for the bride, the aunties bring out the bride. Peace, the bride, was adorned in beautiful fabrics and elaborate hair styles. She looked so happy. Next, the brides come into the groom's party to find the proper man. They prance around and pretend to not know who he is. After "searching" long and hard, they finally pulled Peter out of the crowd, and the audience went wild.

After they found Peter, it was the groom's party's responsibility to bring in the gifts. In lines, all the men went out to the trucks to bring in sodas, beer, chickens, sofas, sugars, water, and tons of other stuff. With about 30 men, it took us 20 minutes to get all the stuff off the truck and onto the lawn. Peter definitely proved himself to be a provider in my opinion!

Peace and Peter began taking pictures, and family members said kind words to them. It was a really cool experience to be a part of. Throughout the ceremony, photographers take pictures of the audience members. Then, toward the end, they develop the pictures and bring them out to sell. It was so funny to see people looking at themselves and admiring or disapproving of their outfits. I bought a few pictures myself to remember the special occasion.

Of course, afterward, we all ate dinner of matoke, beef, dry fish, porschabeans, peas, pumpkin, and rice. I sat with Rose and Natal. While waiting for everyone to finish, we decided to take silly pictures in our traditional outfits. Let's just say I never knew I could laugh so hard. Ah, it was hilarious. I may post pictures, but I don't want Rose to get upset...yeah, they're that bad! Haha

Well, once again, Ugandans have proven that they know how to have a good time...for a long time. The entire event probably lasted around 7 hours. And, according to everyone, that was a pretty quick ceremony! The groom's family is forced to leave, so we began heading to the parking lot only to find that Aggie's car had been blocked in by a multitude of cars. Joy. Deciding to make the best out of a not-so-great situation, we turned on the radio, heard some Michael Jackson, and "rocked the night away."

Finally, after an hour of waiting, Aggie somehow maneuvered through the maze of cars and headed home. After a great day of laughs, good food, and cultural learning, Michael and I collapsed. Oh, what a day.

-Nick

Peter, Peace, and their family and friends. The groom's lady line parades into the ceremony.

On Monday June 21, I woke up 5 AM to pick the Mack family up from the airport. It was the least I could do for Annie “Mack Attack” who connected me with EAC. When I entered the bus, I found about 10 of the EAC children passed out sleeping in their seats. Driving to the airport was a treat because when we arrived in Kampala, it was dark outside. In the light, I could see Lake Victoria, God’s Flowers Primary School (This was my favorite school name until I saw Teletubbie Primary School today), and beautiful greenery. Alexis – EAC’s founder – was seated next to me. When we were approaching the airport, she pointed out where the United Nations headquartered many of their aid missions during the genocide in Rwanda (really pronounced Ronda by the way) and still use.

I was surprised to find my favorite funny man – Jengo – outside. He had been sound asleep at the front of the bus during the ride. After walking through security, we had a great conversation about how cool it would be if we were filming a movie in which we had to bust through security with weapons to save people in the airport. Jengo turned to me and said, “I know I could do the acting well.” I told him, “I know.” With his imagination and wit, he has the potential to be a terrific actor and hysterical comedian.

When the Mack’s entered into the lobby where we were waiting for them in the airport, I only saw 5 of 7. Annie was missing! Unfortunately for the “Mack Attack,” so was her luggage. Fortunately, it was eventually found. On the bus ride to Kampala, I told Annie and her sister Molly all about living in the city.

After spending an hour in the office with Nick, we reunited with the visitors at Nakasero Market – a Mecca of fresh fruits, vegetables, spices, live chickens, hanging meat, grains, and fried insects. Fried grasshoppers, a Ugandan deliquesce, is one of the foods I promised many people I would try before leaving Kampala. Seeing people plucking the wings off these creatures so they could be fried caused me to consider backing down from this pledge. I did not. On the bus, I fulfilled my promise. Zziwa – EAC’s driver and comedian – asked Nick and I at the beginning of our stay if we had ever tried grasshoppers. My answer was, “No. What does it taste like?” I expected him to say “chicken.” He said, “ . . . Insect,” smiled, and let out a giggle. Jeremy told me they tasted like oil. If you ask me, I will say “Insect Oil (and crunchy like fish gills).”

As the Coaster (bus) approached the EAC Children’s home, I could hear the sound of drums beating. Suddenly, the gates opened to reveal the EAC children in costume performing a routine from the Spirit of Uganda – an exhilarating display of dance and music. Children from the neighborhood joined our group outside the gate to watch. When they finished, we walked onto the compound. Each child greeted us with a handshake. Faith jokingly re-introduced herself to me. As we shook hands, Brian told me he would give me a hug, but he was sweating. I said, “Does it look like I care?” I so overjoyed by the performance I wanted to give every single performer a hug and a foot massage (the ground looked painful to dance on). Luckily, I was told sit down so they could perform a few more numbers.

Over the previous weeks, Nick and I had been told time and time again about the Spirit of Uganda. We had worked hard to produce drafts of models to measure the programs success. Yet, we had never seen the children perform. While I wish I could have seen the show on tour, I am happy I saw the performance in Uganda on the ground where the training happens. The organic nature of the setup allowed for the natural beauty of the beats and talents of the children to shine. Fancy lighting systems, sets and union stagehands were not needed for me to lose myself in this performance. The mob scene of children banging on the gate during the performance illustrates the amount of energy being produced by the children of EAC.

After the performance and lunch, we went on buses with the children back to school. Despite knowing the importance of school attendance, I did not want to say goodbye. When Jengo and Moses took me to see their dormitories, I asked if I could stay. Jengo said, “Sure. Physics is in the morning.” Unfortunately, rules would not permit.

- Feldman

The Bright Side

Over the past two weeks, EAC supporters have been traveling to Kampala to see the wonderful work that Empower African Children does. The Kampala staff created a packed schedule of events for the visitors to attend to learn more about the culture of Uganda and understand how EAC is making a difference. So, Michael and I tagged along a few times and learned a lot ourselves. I'll highlight a few of the many experiences.

We visited Sharon's home. Sharon is one of the girls I went around with on report card day. She's very bright, always has a smile on her face, and is absolutely beautiful. Sharon has an infectious laugh that always cracks me up. She's fun to be around. At school, she's running to be a senator for her house. Needless to say, she's pretty amazing. Because of the great care that EAC provides and Sharon's graceful spirit, it's sometimes difficult for me to imagine her background. But, when we visited her house, I was quickly reminded.

After swerving through the bumpy, rugged, dusty of roads outside of Kampala, our bus finally arrived to the place Sharon called home. Outside, we were greeted by her mother and two brothers. Her aunts from Tanzania were visiting for a little while. We presented Sharon's mother with gifts of a chicken, matoke, bananas, sugar, and rice for her home. She was very appreciative and hugged each of us. I was a bit confused, because we were right in front of a bar. "Where is her home?" I wondered. As we edged forward, we approached a room that was attached to the noisy bar. That room was Sharon's home. With two bunk beds hidden by hung sheets, a neat stack of dishes, and a shelf holding a television that didn't work, everything that Sharon's family owned was contained in a room that only 5 people could see at a time. The room was cleaned from top to bottom, and everything had its specific place. Sharon's mother took great pride in making her house a home for herself and her 4 children. As victims of the genocide in Rwanda, this was home for them.

Outside, I began talking to Sharon's brother, Abbi. He's in primary school, and had on his freshly cleaned white and blue uniform. Above his knees, where his shorts stopped, were ink drawings on his legs. "What kind of drawings are those? Did your girlfriend draw those on you?" I asked, jokingly. "No, it's just where I did my math problem today." He giggled nonchalantly.

Abbi was very bright. He began to patiently teach me how to count in Luganda. He said I was a good student. He told me all about his school and how he enjoyed it. He looked up to Sharon because she was so smart and well-taken care of. It made him happy that she had a chance to get a quality education. Because of her, he wanted to continue to strive for better. He was soo proud of his sister and had so much joy when she arrived.

Despite how difficult life was for Sharon's family, they had a sense of happiness that I think many of the richest Americans don't hold. They may not possess a fancy house or brand-named clothes, but they do possess a spirit of resilience and understand the value of making the best. It's not helplessness, it's understanding the value of things that really matter. As Faith, an EAC student, told me, "We have much to be sad about, but we have even more to be happy about." It's inspiring to be surrounded by people who have such an optimistic view of life and understand how to look on the brightside.

Me and Sharon at the EAC office before heading out to her house.

-Nick

I'm a Visual Person...

I noticed our blog is getting a little wordy, so here are a few pictures to spice things up a bit.

Nick and Rajab acting silly on the bus to Taibah.

A small glimpse of Spirit of Uganda, a program of EAC. They're phenomenal!

A few new friends who like to show off their muscles and make silly faces.

Michael, Jengo, and Bryan. Supposedly, Jengo got all the rings onto the stand on his first try. Key word: supposedly :)

Nick taking a pose with Uganda's Next Top Models, the lovely ladies of EAC.

Zahara, Sylvia, and Miriam struggling to keep the egg uncracked and balanced!

-Nick

Sundays

This post about the last 2 Sundays. I will tell what happened between in upcoming posts.

June 20
I entered Agnes' car on Sunday morning wearing dirt covered pants. This was not the first time. At the house where we are staying lives a 6-month year old dog named Bosco. He's brown, average looking, jumpy and overly rambunctious because during the day he is locked in a dog house. Many morning, they forget to control him and he likes me much more than Nick as I engaged him at the beginning of our stay. Because it rained Saturday night, his paws were extra dirty Sunday morning. I walked out the door. He jumped. I pushed him off. He went behind me and jumped. Both sides of my khakis became the color of Kampala soil - a little browner, darker than sand. I had to grab a new pair of pants and change in the car.

After a short drive, we arrived at church a little late, shuffled onto a bunch, and listened to the priest deliver his sermon. The church has a young following, which is reflected in the vibrancy of the music. At the end of the service, before and during the final song, everyone in the congregation turned to each other and said, "Peace be with you." I am glad I did not slip and say "Shabbat Shalom!"

Last Thursday, Alexis and Jeremy arrived in Kampala from Dallas with the first of visitors who will be trickling in until July 2. One of the benefits of having visitors is the EAC children get to spend more time at the EAC house. While I had met many of the older children, this was my first time to meet the younger. They were in attendance at church and greeted us at the end of the service with smiles and hugs. The children EAC serve are enthusiastic, confident, and mature. Creating a logic model to measure success would be much easier if we only had to collect qualitative data. The social abilities of the children are proof of the organization’s success. Unfortunately, quantitative data needs to be assessed as well.

From church, we headed to the EAC Children's home for the day. There was so much to do. On the yard, many of the children played games including horseshoe and egg toss. Inside, Jimmy, Nicholas and Moses - three of the older boys - taught Jeremy, Nick and I chords on a Ugandan string instrument called the adungu. My lack of eye-hand coordination was outmatched by the patience of my teachers. After a few minutes, I could play the first 4 chords of the instrument.

I took a brief break from music and went outside to watch the younger children play games. Moses stood with me, and we had a wonderful conversation about his experience in the United States, school, and sports. He is soft-spoken and one of the most genuine people I have ever conversed with. His demeanor exudes wisdom, a drive for knowledge, and love. When we heard song coming from inside the house, we went to join. While I only had the ability to watch, Moses enhanced the music by playing the flute. Jimmy has a beautiful soothing voice, which he used to lead the group in a composition full of call-and-response. I dubbed him the singing master.

Soon after, we ate lunch – a wonderful buffet of local foods including Aunt Sarah and Aunt Justine’s wonderful cabbage! Before eating, we held hands in a circle for song led by Joan – one of the children – and a prayer. I ate with Jimmy and Rajab. We had a very interesting conversation about school and caning. One of them missed the practice because the threat of the punishment inspired them to work harder. I thought this was an interesting view of what I think is a horrifying practice.

Following lunch, we played a series of fun games including a game where you run around until someone says a number and you have to find that many people to hold hands with or you are out, a staring game, a staring game, and Badu Badu – a game where someone in the middle says one of three words, which indicate where you put your hands. Rajab acted as the man in the middle. During the game, he would say a word while putting his hand in the wrong position. While this is what the person in the middle is supposed to do, I do not think anyone could have been trickier. He has a fantastic playful sense of humor.

Florence is one of the younger EAC girls. Somehow, we ended up playing with a red beanbag together in the late afternoon. She is mischievous in a fun way, which caused my goofiness to come out. We tried throwing the beanbag so the other couldn’t catch, as far as we could, and even to the sky. Our games were broken up by the departure of the guests and the approaching World Cup Match.

Jengo, the Bryans, Daniel, Simon, and a few other of the older EAC boys joined Nick and I to watch the Italy-New Zealand World Cup match at Cheri’s – a bar in Kabalaga at 5:30. On the walk back, Jengo and I developed a game, which we have continued to play. We switch names. Both of us get confused, usually fail to answer to our other names, and resort back to our given title; however, it can be pretty funny. We are still wondering if my passport will work for Jengo.

June 27

I arrived at the EAC children’s home by Boda at 8:45 on Sunday morning to learn about Ugandan cooking and help Aunt Justine and Aunt Sarah prepare lunch for the US visitors. My first job was to cut cabbage. I now know why my mom sometimes buys the pre-cut cabbage for coleslaw. It’s hard to cut – especially to the small size needed for the recipe. I may or may not have slightly cut one of my fingers as a result of the knife slipping on the very moist vegetable. My second task was to sort through the rice to remove all the “funny stuff” as Aunt Justine calls it. The most fun assignment involved g-nuts. G-nut sauce – a staple of Ugandan cooking is grounded peanuts with water, salt and other additives. This particular time we were mixing the paste with greens. My first job involving the sauce was to thin it out with water. The ground peanuts were placed into a pot with water, which I placed my hands into and kneaded until the water and paste became one. After this mixture was heated, the greens – Gobi (I think they are Collard Greens) – were added. I stirred for about 5 minutes until the sauce was allowed to rest on the charcoal stove alone. One of the benefits of cooking instead of going to church was I got to eat a plate of peas (my favorite), beef stew, and rice at 10:30.

Guests arrived around 11 from church, and the children performed at 12. I will go into detail about the children’s performing in a future post. For now, let me just tell you they are amazing.

Following the performance, we ate lunch. Because Donna was turning 10 on Monday, we sang happy birthday to her. Then, the children received gifts from the US visitors who they would not see again. In thanks, they sang two beautiful songs. I have found singing in Uganda to be powerful because it is seen as a gift not just something to entertain. As they sang, I became sad for the first time since arriving in Kampala because I began thinking about how we only had 3 more weeks until we returned home. While it’s easy to say I will return next summer, the reality is I do not know when I will have the opportunity to hang out with my new friends again.

After the guests hugged the children goodbye, we departed to Taibah to drop them off for a week at school. Moses and I walked from the lower school to the upper school together. We dropped off his stuff in his room. He is learning how to play guitar and plucked out all of the chords for me. Somehow, I ended up in the school office with a teacher who thought I was there to sign Moses in. It was very humorous because the teacher thought Moses was Willington – another EAC student. Moses was just trying to show me the computer lab.

We then went to the dining hall to check the score of the Germany-England game. I met Moses’ English teacher and explained to him how the US Congress works. Moses joked as we were walking to our next destination – the football (not American) field – that we shouldn’t go check the score again because the teacher will ask me too many more questions. At the soccer field, I said goodbye to Daniel and Jengo. As we were walking away, Daniel scored a goal, which was cool to see.

Our time at Taibah ended with Nick and I playing an intense game of monkey in the middle with Sharon – another EAC student. I was so proud of myself. When I ended up in the middle, one of the girls joked I would never get out. I proved her wrong by catching the ball the first time Sharon threw it.

As we were leaving the children’s home for Taibah, I told Aunt Justine that I was going to come by to say “hi” at night. She didn’t believe me so after dinner I returned to prove her wrong. I think she was shocked.

In the “special” (the word used for a private taxi) on the way home, I witnessed an exciting fit of road rage. The road that leads into our neighborhood is currently being reconstructed, which makes it difficult for the traffic dance, which I talked about in one of my early posts, to happen smoothly. My trustworthy driver exited his car to tell someone to backup after about 6 minutes of waiting. When the people finally did what he said, he entered the car. Unfortunately, he forgot to put on his blinker when he re-entered the car. The people he corrected earlier took the opportunity to start yelling at him. The only words I could decipher were “you are stupid.” Although everything happened in Luganda, I knew exactly what was happening. David, my driver, was right. These people were being ridiculous. At least, I was entertained!

The reason I started this posting with the story of Bosco is because with the exception of my pants, nothing about the last two Sundays needed to be changed.

- Feldman

A Letter in Honor of Jonathan's Birthday

The second time I took a boda boda - motorcycle taxis - the driver turned to me and said, "You look really scared." I was. Nevertheless, on Saturday, I hopped back on one to go to the Kampala Rugby Park. For the first time, I relaxed and really enjoyed my ride. There is no better way to see the city of Kampala than in the open air with a driver who takes you through little used side roads. Also, as long as I ask the driver to go slow and be careful, I will be safe. Over and over again, other bodas passed us - a clear sign the driver was taking my direction.

We were meeting another of Aggie's cool friends, Patrick, to watch Uganda take on Zimbabwe in rugby. This is where my blog takes a turn. Instead of writing for everyone I have a note for a particular person. . .

Dear Jerry,

Last year, you opened the most expensive stadium in the world. I haven't been. Yet, the jealously I felt toward my brother Jeffrey for having the chance to see my favorite team play in their new palace washed away at the Kampala Rugby Park - a venue less sophisticated than many of America's high school stadiums. A bar, some stands, chairs, grills and a score board controlled by person with a stick-like thing (forgot the technical word) was the extent of the physical structures needed for people to be spirited and have fun. The spectators didn't even need a clock to keep time. They kept it themselves.

In terms of the game, I had no idea what was going on. Uganda won. How? I don't really know except that somehow they scored touchdowns and extra points (terms you and I understand, but again probably not the technical terms). What went on in between teams scoring seemed chaotic with men grabbing, tackling, and shoving each other while a ball was being kicked or thrown for no apparent purpose.

The good news is that not knowing what was going on really didn't matter. I had the best time because the people at the game were having the best time. There were chants, playful arguments, high fives, horns (the annoying kind plaguing the World Cup) creatively used by Ugandans, waves, and yells at the referee ("Referee, Who is your mother?" or something like that). All of this happened between complete strangers. At the end of the game, the crowd did not rush out of the stadium as they do yours. Instead, they stayed to continue having fun. I went to games at the old, now demolished Texas Stadium, which was more complex than the Kampala Rugby Park, and the spirit was never as high.

I learned something very important on Saturday. Structure is less important than passion. Next season, I think one of the Cowboys' games should be re-located to a field with makeshift stands, score boards, and not even a 1 yard screen. I am sure there are many fields in Arlington like this. If that is too extreme, simply move your team back to its city at the Cotton Bowl for a game, make the parking and tickets cheap. I think you will find true fans who don't need a 60 yard screen to watch their team and might be able to match the spirit of Ugandan Rugby fans.

Send my regards to your favorite "bum" - Wade, and please return to my blog in the next few days for an update on Sunday - one of if not my favorite day since arriving in Kampala.

Best,

Feldman

"Baby, Are You Ready to Come Home Yet?"

That's the question my grandma asked me over the phone. "Uhhh....not quite." I said, not sure how to respond. Of course I miss car rides to Schnucks and Target with Mama, Daddy dragging me out of bed on Saturday to cut the grass, long chats with Olivia, Sherell rolling her eyes at my silliness, inside "buddy" jokes with Trevor, random bro-talks with Jonathan, and everything/one else that comes from home; but, I'm learning so much about myself and others in this beautiful place that I gotta soak it all in while I'm here.

It's been a while since I posted, so this might be a long one. Take a deep breath. Brace yourself. There are pictures at the end as a reward!

On Thursday, Michael and I went to Taibah to check on the children. It was the dreaded report mid-term report issuance day. The kids got their reports and presented them to Edith, the social counselor. We then proceeded to walk around to different stations and talk to each of their teachers personally about their reports. While most were doing very well in their classes, there were definitely areas for improvement. I went around with two very smart and sweet girls. It was strange for me to act as their "parent" checking on their progress. I understood the struggles of math and chemistry. They're hard! So, I tried to sound like a good, responsible, wise parent (of 19 yrs to a sophomore in high school lol) when I talked to the teachers, but the girls usually just giggled at me and shook their heads at my attempts. But, the teachers had such positive things to say about the students and their work. For many of them, they were leaders in the classroom and had great time management skills. My daughters of 15 ,minutes made me a proud father. Don't worry, Mom, I'm still in no hurry to become a father!

On Saturday, Michael and I went to a Rugby game between Zimbabwe and Uganda. Tightly seated shoulder-to-shoulder on wooden bleachers, we were in the middle of an intense group of Ugandan fans, giving us the best seats in the house. Hands down. With horns in hand, the field was ablaze with energy as fans cheered on the nation. Grills sizzled with muchomo (sticks of pork and chicken) and delicious smells filled the air, reminding me of the Tennessee State Fair. Having never seen a rugby match, I was thoroughly confused to say the least. It was still fun to watch. Seeing guys hoist their team mates high in the air, then watching a guy fly out of nowhere to tackle an unaware player, then following the oddly-shaped ball sail into the air was fun to learn about. However, the real show wasn't going on in the fields. Oh no, it was all about the fan stands. Hilarious chants against the refs with slightly inappropriate jeers at his mother made the evening exciting. No matter where you are, people love their sports. It was funny to watch one guy hop the fence, wave his flag with pride, and then get kicked off by the policemen as he argued intensely. Good times, great memories.

On Sunday, after church, we visited the EAC House in Kisugu, where all the kids were. Michael and I had met a few of them briefly at Taibah, but this was the first time we were with everyone for an extended period of time. And what a time we had! We started playing games, watching school performances, and just hanging out. There's something about youthfulness that brings so much joy. With high-pitched laughs, toothless smiles, and tireless kids running around, we had the time of our lives. Rajab, my new "best", taught us how to play Ba, Badu, Badubadu, a game where you have to follow what the leader says, not does. It was alot of fun. Ya'll know how much I love games, so I'm definitely bringing it back home to teach. Can't wait!

While there, I decided to learn how to do laundry. No, not putting it into the washer and dryer. Like, legit doing laundry. Jengo was washing his clothes, so I decided to help. Still in my Sunday clothes, I slipped off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pants and shirt sleeves and began to learn how to scrub the famous African clay out of Jengo's scrub. First, you soak the shirts in a bucket of water and begin scrubbing with a bar of soap. With soap suds covering the fabric, you rub the pieces together, while stringing out the water. It's a constant process, especially if there's a stain. After, you think you've gotten it all out, you rinse with clean water. Then, you make sure you didn't miss any spots. If you notice that you did (this happened a lot for me), then you repeat the previous step. Finally, you hang out the clothes to dry on a string across the yard. Whew, all I can say is, thank God for Whirpool. It was tough! Jengo laughed at me, and when we got to the jeans, he just shook his head and said, "Nick, you can't handle those. Stick to the shirts." Well, I'm pretty good at socks and shirts, maybe I'll progress to jeans another day.

I always talk about lessons I've learned while I've been here. One of the most helpful lessons I've learned is to listen. Sometimes, we're in such a hurry to share our world with others that we forget to learn. But in between playing games, doing laundry, and eating delicious food, I've begun to observe how others live. To step back and realize that this project is more than me and what I can provide. It's an opportunity to understand others. There's a quote by Dr. Cornel West that I always love to use that I learned at the Tavis Smiley Leadership Institute. "You can't lead the people if you don't love the people. You can't save the people unless you serve the people." In order to truly connect with people, there has to be a relationship, a common understanding. Growing up in America, I've always been taught to be efficient, to move, and be a mover and shaker. But, to be effective, you sometimes have to step back, listen, and wait. You learn so much about what makes a person happy, sad, laugh, cringe, or uncomfortable. Once you understand a group of people, then you are able to better serve.

Our service project may be to create logic models to show program success, but I think beyond that, it's just being present. Going to watch the World Cup, doing laundry together, shopping at the market, learning to play/sing a local song, going to church, and taking a walk all cause us to become connected in a way that sitting in an office deciding whether to use the word "psychological" or "psychosocial" for the model simply doesn't.

I can remember sitting in circle back at Vanderbilt during an Ingram discussion. I can't remember who, but someone said that service is just being. I didn't grasp that concept at the time, but slowly I'm beginning to understand that simple, but complex notion of being...

-Nick






All of us around the house playing games. A geography classroom at Taibah.

Me getting seconds for a newfound snack: GRASSHOPPERS. It was much tastier than fried ant. They seasoned it with onion. Actually not bad.

A Day at the Rugby match with our two tickets. By the way, 2,000 USX=1 US Dollar So, tickets are about $2.50/person

An In(complete) Post II

When we arrived at Taibah, we said goodbye to everybody on the bus and went to the dining hall. Teachers with signs that had their names and subject were on the walls and pillars of the room. They sat on benches at the long tables, which lined the room. Students with their parents sat speaking with a teacher or waiting in line for an update. Samali and I went with one of the EAC girls. For the most part, the teachers thought she was doing very well; however, they thought her potential was even higher than her already very good performance. This was a testament to EAC. The teachers think very highly of the children EAC sends to their school and believe in their abilities.

I was touched by the way Samali spoke with the students. She was gentle and firm as she asked questions about how the student intended to plan her time and live up to the teachers expecations. The conversation she had was almost identical to the conversations I have with my parents, which confirms my belief that any child if given the right tools and care can do great things.

After the first student, Samali and I split to go around with different students. The girl I went with was told by every teacher that she was excellent, easy to have in the classroom, and attetive, but could still work harder. I've concluded no matter how well a student does in the classroom the teachers at Taibah will always push their students.

Leaving Taibah was hard. The EAC students are so much fun to be with. Jengo and I bonded as we were trying to depart because he has a wonderful sense of humor. We joked around about the World Cup and my experience in Uganda so far. As we spoke, his hand was either on my shoulder or we were shaking hands. He is so friendly. I am convinced he is going to be a comedian. Later that week, we discussed this idea as I will in my next blog.

- Feldman

An Incomplete Post

I do not remember when they began, but from a young age, I had to attend conferences twice a year at Shelton. They all went pretty much the same way. I would introduce my parents to my teachers, tell my teachers, "I have taken the proper precautions to be focused so what I need from you is to keep class interesting or I'll be bored." and then each teacher would say what I was doing well and not so well (a limited category I like to think). Two times every term, Taibah - the school where EAC students go - holds what they call Contact Days, which are similar to conferences. Yesterday, we went with Edith and Samali to Contact Day - an experience which brought back memories and put me in a different role.

At around 3, we were picked up by a car full of EAC children we had yet to meet. They had just come from registering to vote for the presidential elections next year. Again, I was so touched by how welcoming they were to me. I sat next to Brian who just happened to be wearing a Dallas Mavericks t-shirt. We had a wonderful conversation about his experience with the Spirit of Uganda tour. His favorite city on the tour was Dallas. Like me, he is not a huge fan of roller coasters so when he went to Six Flags, he did not go on all the rides. Also, he told me about going to the top of the Empire State building, which I will have to do next time I go to New York. It sounds amazing to see the city from such a high place.

It's 4:23 here and the USA plays in the World Cup at 5. This means I have to run out of the office; however, I told both of my parents in emails I was updating the blog today so here is a partial update. Next time, I have the internet I will finish. Go USA!!!

- Feldman