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.