Teacher Exchange Day II

FOR BEGINNING OF STORY SCROLL DOWN

Wanted to wake up at 8 am... My plan was
1) to pick up Catherine and Danielle in Queens drop them off in Manhattan
2) get ATT phones supplied by John Stephens in Manhattan
3) Drive to hostel on Upper west side drop off warm clothes
4) pick up Jill Knopic at JFK
5) pick up Ugandans at bus stop??
6) go get Sassers at JFK
7) drop car off at JFK before 5:27 when I am charged another very steep daily charge...

staying awake until 4 am...not good for early wakeup..

so here is what happened...

1) get to Catherines at 9:50.. George Washington bridge into the city was beautiful (not worth $8 tariff though) 2nd bridge was redundant but still cost $5.50.
dug young woman out of the snow...helped old woman shovel out her car that was buried 5 feet deep by plow...she tells me she is moving because she has no husband and no son and a plate in her leg...and snow removal sucks...still waiting as C and D are bringing down bags of stuff... tried to get Impala off to the side of street 3 cars get by, but not truck...Car is stuck...3 guys from the truck and I push it out as Danielle from South Carolina drives out of her first snow bank... off to drop off supplies...Manhattan is crazy but moving...2 stops...

2) find ATT store... walk to store... set up 5 phones for Ugandans....clerks were great and laughed every time my ringer played respect to get their numbers in my phone.... that part was easy

3) drove to hostel... toook a loooonng time with traffic

4) Jill loses out must find her own ride in...

5) We now drive from 103rd avenue to lower east side to find Ugandans at bus stop
find out that this Chinese bus company, kind of just a small store front that drops off people in front ... they tell us that one of the busses will not come to that stop but instead drop off people at 34th and 7th Avenue around Penn Station... we have to get there or Ugandans might get off and be alone in the middle of Manhattan... Manhattan is crazy... a couple of times, I have to walk through 3 foot drifts with snow above my knee to get to the street...

we get back there... Catherine decides after 33rd street does not go through to start walking on foot...good idea, as it takes Dani and I another 45 minutes to make the 4 blocks by driving 12 blocks.... We are there for over an hour, Danielle buying warmer socks, Catherine buying subway cards for all, and me walking forever to see a lot of other fly-by-night buses coming up 34th, but no Eastern company with possibly Chinese characters ( I forgot lunch was a can of Pringles shared by 3 of us at Chinese bus depot or storefront with metal benches in it...

Catherine talks to some lady who is waiting for someone from DC who has been waiting for someone who left at 730 am... we are pretty sure our guys left at 10, but don't know as we have no way to contact them... It is now 330 and still no Ugandans (quick call home----MOM get St. Anthony on this one, we have lost Ugandans!!!!!)...Start walking down 34th, tell Danielle that I have good feeling about bus that is 300 yards away... I was dead wrong, but now the one behind it says Eastern. It is stopped and within 18 feet of me....tried to find a way over the mounds of snow, but cannot finally found a break, but bus is now moving just out of my reach.... almost get runover by another truck as I get to the bus... motion frantically for Chinese driver to open door... I ask him if he has Ugandans on the bus, he tells me that I cannot be on his bus and to get off ... I climb steps and yell "Are there Ugandans on this bus, Invisible Children, INvisible Children"... then I hopped off.... ran to the corner but now I cannot find Danielle or Catherine easily 8000 people in 2 block radius... The bus stops around the corner for disembarking, but no Ugandans... a women tells me they said they were on there....but still no familiar faces....DO I HAVE THE WRONG UGANDANS??? FINALLY THE FAMILIAR FACE OF CALISTUS, THEN A SMILING PATRICK...

SUCCESS....

oh btw, the Sassers are stuck in Columbia and cannot get to New York..

had to get the rental back by 527... piece of cake it is 408....ended up stuck in Manhattan traffic for an hour and a half.

had PIZZA ....I was hungggry.... had a short meeting and then took Danielle and Catherine back to Queens and was going to try to take the car back to LaGuardia...

phone battery on low.... so Gps might die at any minute.... found LaGuardia, but missed all rental car returns sign and had to turn around... found Crowne Plaza hotel to ask for directions... ironically I parked in a spot for Hertz car but there counter was closed.....

Got to Hertz at 840 or so... Had an Invisible Children flyer and gave my whole story to the clerk...."So I know I brought it back to the wrong airport, and I am almost 4 hours late, but can I not be charged for the extra day... She smiles and says yeah she can work something out..... She smiles and hands me a bill for $300 more than I was hoping?????? She explains she gave me a discount of $200, but I tell her I was only looking a paying for one day....please.......she calls a supervisor who seemed at first like he was going to hold the line.... but relented.... still very expensive,....but I AM IN NEW YORK and half the country is trying to get here....

Hertz shuttle driver tells me that LaGuardia is a mess and lines for cabs are causing fights and it will take 2 hours to get a cab.....took the M60 bus back only a crammed bus full of many people in similar jams took an hour or so to get back... saw a lot of Harlem and the Apollo theatre...and got to within 3 blocks of the hostel...

went upstairs with head lamp to get my phone cord to charge my phone and grab my computer....CANNOT FIND MY PHONE CORD....

so came down to write this.....

Beginning of Teacher Exchange II

Christmas Day find out that I am not flying to Baltimore then New York, but flying to Chicago Midway then NYC

Decided to run to Walgreen's a buy HDMI cable and set up Blu-Ray player for mom and dad instead of packing and cleaning room.

Cleaned house Christmas night...mostly done Got up on the 26th and made two beds with fresh sheets off to Dad's for ride to the airport.

Get to Airport and here flight to New York Cancelled...tell me to come back tomorrow decide to push through to Chicago and bunk in with the Powers family for the night.

My bag was supposed to get pulled in Midway, but baggage mixup in airport is stupendous. your bag will be up in 10 minutes becomes 2 hours plus of waiting...

Connor picks me up (has been waiting patiently for me watching Bears at midway).. mishandled trunk lid full of snow, and sliced a good chunk out of my finger...as Connor drives me to Naperville, bleeding is continuous, sucking the blood is not working...

Chinese dinner with John and Patti is great, Packers winning is not...will get up the next morning for Islipp...start to hear other flights being cancelled but not mine!!!!
BUT WAIT!!!! now mine is cancelled...

Decide might not make it to NYC (time to problem solve) look at Southwest Flight schedule and decide Cleveland is far away without any problems... will get car and drive from there...

MEANWHILE, Ugandans flight from London to NYC is cancelled ...next available flight is 4 days...British Immigration tells them it is illegal for them to stay that long...tell them to go back to British Airways and find a solution.. BA flies them to Washington DC...

Phone calls aplenty, lance and justine probably stuck in SF...Patrick and Katherine stuck in Columbia...talking to Catherine the whole time.. tell her I am driving in ....Jen Bresler and my mother think I am crazy...

Maybe no cars in Cleveland, Patti Powers comes through with reservation (although dropping it off at JFK will not be cheap)... Get in car, but realize phone will die...Tell Catherine I will drive to DC to pick up Ugandans.. she trusts the bus... Ugandans find accomodations in DC...know exactly what I need from STL Best Buy unfortunately in Cleveland (not much help or expertise)...find a car charger for my exact phone... Hop in Car...It is snowing and a little wet....WHOOPS

Weather gets better in 45 minutes, and start trucking along Ohio--Pennsylvania...calling home looking for weather reports....roads are dry...making good time... Listening to the football game.....screaming WHO DAT WHO DAT think going to beat them Saints, but then Brees throws two interceptions.... Kevin Harlan says between the hashes a lot and caught the ball against his chest.... Dad calls tells me that Mom says I should pull over and quit for the night... I tell him that Rental Car has ON star and I have already talked to emergency operator as I thought Cross on mirror was up, down, left, right, not a call to emer. operator...

Still making good time... man is Pennsylvania (I-80) boring... Get gas and McDonalds only half way through Pennsylvania... Catherine calls from tarmac, stuck on plane, my GPS says I am only 1 hour twenty minutes from Queens...might be her there

Decide as wind is picking up that driving over Bridges into New York is more of a daytime activity and try to find a hotel in Jersey... finally find one in Saddle Brook...so keyed up don't get to bed until 4 am

Teaching in Uganda: The Square Root of 8, A Goat, and a Dream Deferred??

I will be giving two talks about my trips to Uganda this Thursday, Nov. 18th. The first one during the school day during the Peace and Justice Assembly. The second one will be at Nerinx Hall in the EAC at 7 p.m. on Thursday Night Nov. 18th. All are invited.

Necklaces for Fr. Leonsyo and Peace Together Uganda

I am selling hand-made paper bead necklaces to benefit Father Leonsyo's organization, Peace Together Uganda. If you are interested please contact me at johnmagee412@yahoo.com

Ocwa Alfred Jackson Here In January!!

Ocwa Alfred Jackson, or Alfred from Atanga SS, will be in St. Louis during the month of January teaching at Nerinx Hall. If you would like to possibly meet Alfred or share some time with us. You can email me at johnmagee412@yahoo.com

4:54 in the am... headed home

hopefully, I make the London Connection and get to JFK tonight...

Get Up and Walk

This is written by Jenni Aber Lynn

Just two days ago, the teachers of Pedro Menendez received news of another student death. I did not know this student as well as the student that had passed earlier on this summer, but I knew him. I did not teach him, but he stopped by my room a few times. His death, along with other events this summer, really affected my happy demeanor.

I have never been one to deal with death very well.

It seems that there have been moments where reality hits pretty hard. This thought process, for me, started with a phone call while I was in Uganda. It was about a student that I had last year.

She sat in the row all the way to the left, three seats from the front. She was quiet at times, but you could see that she still was infected by the contagious excitement for her senior year. She just graduated. She was just killed by a truck driving erratically. When I received this news, I kept saying that it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

The next morning, July 12, I woke up to news that there were bombings in Kampala that killed over seventy people. The American that died was here because he was an “Invisible Children” roadie. His name was Nate ‘Oteka’ Henn. He seemed like such a wonderful person. We did not have a chance to meet him, but because I was still feeling the heaviness of the news from the night before, and because he was there with the same organization as my friends and I, it hit close to home. How could someone who did so much good be taken away? I again thought about how it wasn’t fair.

Then on Sunday, July 18, exactly one week from my phone call about my student, people from group 2 went to St. Jude’s orphanage. When they arrived, they found out that a toddler had just fallen into an open cesspool. When the group went back there, there was a man trying to put a ladder down the hole, but it wouldn’t fit. Then John (who we have deemed the dad of the group) pushed the ladder out of the way. John reached down and pulled Samuel (the toddler) out of the well. They started to try to get all of the stuff out of his mouth. Min and Colleen tried to give CPR, and the “Invisible Children” truck drove to the hospital. It took them ten more minutes to find someone to help them. Despite our best efforts, at 3:06 on July 18 the boy died. He was about 2 ½ years old. Definitely one of our more somber nights.

These events really got to me. How could such senseless things that cause so much pain happen? It WASN’T fair. It made me question. I wanted to know why. I was starting to question justice in this world. As I started to ask questions, I remembered thumbing through a book, “Hope in the Dark.” It is a photo-journal about two people who travel to Kenya. Not Uganda, but their story seems relevant enough to mine. I read the entries. I looked at the pictures. As I turned the pages, two entries caught my attention.

The first page is a picture of graffiti, “Piny Pek.” The entry read, “We walked along the dirt road to Muungano village where these words rested quietly on the brick wall next to a pharmacy shop. ‘What does piny pek mean?’ I asked. ‘Heavy world,’ they said” (Hope in the Dark).

That nailed it. It IS a heavy world. I have been feeling the weight of it all along. Where is justice?

As I was lamenting some of these events, I came across my friend Ryan’s blog. It was on dying seeds. I am going to use some of his words because he writes what I have been feeling so effectively. He says, “I’ve always despised the fact that God made death such an integral part of life. “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die,” Bonhoeffer says. But why can’t the Father work with us as though He were a bricklayer? I’d much rather just have my old self whitewashed, built on top of, not crucified.”

Ryan goes on to say, “That, however, is not His will. The Father’s plan for life is one of complete and total transformation that begins with a wrecking ball and ends with a new creation. And if I say that my way is better, I am arguing with the very God who gave me a mind, an intellect and an ability to argue in the first place. Surely, it is an argument I cannot win.

So I am still left asking, “Why?” I am still saying that it is not fair. I am still left presenting my argument and it makes me think of the verses in Acts 3.
It reads, “ 1One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. 2Now a man crippled from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. 3When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. 4Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, "Look at us!" 5So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.
6Then Peter said, "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk." 7Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man's feet and ankles became strong. 8He jumped to his feet and began to walk.”
It makes me realize that I am like the crippled man and that every time I ask, “Why?” and every time that I argue that it isn’t fair; it is like I am asking for money.

I have to realize and trust that the experiences given to me will become beautiful. It is not money, but the ability to walk.

A couple of pages later in “Hope in the Dark”:

“I stood within the filthy, shack-filled slum of Kibera while also looking up at the stunning clouds that danced across the vast stretch of the African sky. There is such tragedy and yet such beauty at the same time” (HitD).

I remember that we were in a place where the blended scent of pit latrines and burning garbage lingered in the air. I remember the showers were cold. I remember we could not drink the water. I remember the dirt roads were full of potholes and mud. I remember the village was filled with poverty that often broke our hearts. I remember the deaths that will change me forever. I remember the tragedies.

With this entry, I also remember the beautiful friendships that I have made with the American and Ugandan teachers. I remember sharing the new experiences of learning to use shillings and negotiate for a boda ride with these people. I remember everyone playing with the kids in the street in front of our house with Frisbees, kites, and limbo sticks. I remember hearing, “Munu!” and seeing children run from the streets to greet us. I remember seeing the teachers from Uganda share stories, and play, and dance with us at our events. I remember the students’ willingness to share their stories, and the change it brought in us. I remember seeing the faces of deaf children in an orphanage light up because they could share their names and play. I remember seeing my friends bring smiles, laughter, and love to the same orphanage where death broke our hearts. This is the beauty that I remember. Breathtaking.

“Overwhelmed by the insanity of this broken world, I find it difficult to understand how the pieces of it all fit together” (Hope in the Dark).

Heavy world. Where is justice?

“The same earth can hold the fragrance of a field of flowers while also occupying the stench of urine on hot concrete” (HitD).

Where is justice? I think it’s in beauty. Where is beauty? I think it’s in compassion.

So what is something that I have learned on my trip? It’s a heavy world. I am terrified and weighed down by this information. Out of the tragedy, rises beauty and compassion. In the “Invisible Children” video for Nate Henn, it says that his legacy lives on. For me, out of the ashes of tragedy, a field of flowers scented with compassion will rise. That is my pledge to Shae, Nate, Samuel, and Jonathan. My pledge to those who have been and will be affected by a heavy world. My pledge to my new friends. Instead of asking why and saying that it isn’t fair, I am going to “get up and walk.”

I will no longer ask for money when I know that the ability to walk is there. I will no longer sit at the temple gates and ask questions. My promise is to “get up and walk” and bring beauty and compassion with me.

Jenni


my response on facebook

Einstein said, "Small is the number that see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts." It would have been great, if Jenni's experience in Uganda would have been all smiley kids yelling "munu bye". but not this year..

...To all those around Jenni, you already know who she is, but I got to see it for the first time. She is the real deal. I have listened to many and sometimes I hear "the sound of the genuine" from someone new. I pulled that young boy out of the worst shit water I have ever seen or experienced in my life, and tried to figure out how to get him to breathe, And in the end, tried to figure out why, and cursed myself for not winning the battle. But what I saw during that frustration was love, so many of the people in the picture above, reached out and gave me their love.

It would be nice if we could just love first, take a risk and appreciate the beauty of each other, and let these feelings be known. But our lives are often ordinary, and ordinary thoughts in ordinary lives crowd out these real thoughts. Maybe it takes this realness, this "heavy world" to remind us of not only who we are, but what we are capable of.

Don't get me wrong, I would much rather have a live Samuel then writing words on Facebook, but Jenni walked into my world this year, a world populated by amazing people, and became one of them.

And whether it is the first student you taught who dies, or the 12th..... it does not get any easier... but for Ashley, and Leslie, and Michael, for one Matt who died of Cancer, and one Matt who died in Iraq, and too many for me.... and of course, My Best Friend, Phil, whose death left a hole for too many of us.

I will take Jenni's advice and "Get Up and Walk". To do my best for Samuel,..... I will Get Up and Walk

Water

Today was a celebration day at Pope Paul VI. The faculty gathered for a 1:50 pm sendoff, so the ceremony started at 3:05 pm. TIA. It was a wonderful gathering of the faculty, our friend the head teacher was not there, but it gave other people a chance to shine. The Ugandans have a tradition of shaking up soda bottles at occasions, such as this, or birthday parties. I think they thought they were going to surprise us, but the teacher shaking the bottle hit it early. The deputy teacher looked at him and said, "We were going on 3....1, 2, 3." It was hilarious and the entire faculty was laughing uproariously and having a great time.

But that will have to wait for another day....We had water at Anaka for about a day and a half. We thought the problem was temporary, but there was more to it than that. Something about not being able to pay the pump attendant, because finances were low. Last week we were lamenting our situation, and it dawned on me that we were still not working too hard for our water. Each day when we come back to the house, they are 4 Jerry cans filled with water. Who does this our 122 lb. cook, she walks down to the bore hole and carries one on her head and one in her hand, so two trips.

Maureen has been battling malaria or some other disease. She was not able to cook for us last night, and we realized we had to take care of ourselves. Kelley and I hopped after it with no problem, burning the trash, washing the dishes, and going to the bore hole to fill 3 Jerry cans. There was not the familiar sound of metal clanging so I knew no one was pumping at the bore hole. It is a little convenient, right outside of our house, 45 meters away. We filled up all three without too much problem, actually I pumped almost one full and then students took over for us.

Later in the day, I realized with the dish washing we would need more water for tonight. We would have to wash the dishes after dinner, this being our last night in Anaka. Also I was not sure if the Immodium would hold and I did not want to be trapped with my past history in the toilet (it takes a lot of water to flush the toilet manually). So I went to the bore hole to fill up two cans. Except this time, it was much more difficult...the water did not want to seem to come. Clang, Clang, Clang, I pumped furiously and even counted to 50 good reps, but one of the students said, "Sir, the water is not there." A couple of them took over and we alternated, but still just a trickle. We worked harder and harder, and finally something came.
But still what an effort....It just amazes how much of the world has to go through this or worse to find usable water. It is not easy.

John

2nd Half of a Great Day

So let's see, I covered the impressive filming of the flag ceremony and the unexpected kind words of our Head Teacher. The day continued in this fantastic manner as I went into the staff room and was soon joined by my partner teacher, Kumakech Lawrence. Lawrence was smiling and pulled a package out of his small backpack for me. He told me he had been working on this for sometime. It is a plaque he made himself using wood burning techniques (don't ask if your under 30, but I once had a woodburning kit myself). It was a great gift and the time he took to make it, just made it more special.

The teachers were then summoned to the office and we were told that they wanted to take us to Pakwach to see some animals. We soon all piled into the headteachers truck. 5 of us in the front two seats, and 7 in the back. The handyman had put a school bench in the back, but mostly it was just hanging on. Luckily, I was chosen to sit up front. We took off, saw a few Ugandan Kob and settled in for lunch in Pakwach.

We were soon descended on by a group of people at the small restaurant. The men were selling wood crafts: real arrows (for hunting), wooden animals, carved turtles, canes, balancing cheetahs, etc. Lunch was a chapati and rolled egg, think breakfast burrito. I thought it was about time to go, so I decided to buy 2 souvenirs After it was seen that I bought 2 things, there were at least 8 men and boys who insisted I also buy their wares. I told them I was not going to when the one said, "You buy this one, Obama." We never really figured out if he was calling the warrior he wsa selling me, Obama or he was calling me Obama.

After the restaurant, we drove to the place where Kumakech Lawrence had grown up, we met the wife of his brother, who had raised him since his parents died when he was two. Ir was a pleasant meeting with pictures, but then all attention was drawn to Colleen, her partner teacher new it was her dream to hold a baby goat. So he went to a small pen and lifted a young goat into her arms. She was very happy! Soon it was back in the truck, Colleen volunteered to take Kelley's place in the wild, wild back of the truck. We crossed the bridge to return home, and detoured into the game park entrance. It costs money for each person to enter, but somehow the head teacher used his charm and politician's gift of laughter to allow us in for just a kilometer. "You are not talking a strict kilometer, of course." He said to the ranger. After a tough bridge and a puddle of unknown depth, which the Head Teacher drove through without pause, we saw elephants ahead.

The game ranger was yelling furiously from the back that the Head Teacher was going too fast. Finally we stopped just short of the elephants, Colleen was very nervous in the back, as she thought the elephants might charge. It did not help that Kumakech was telling her he already had plans to dive under the truck and spread gasoline on himself. We took a couple of pictures of the elephants. It was the first time Jennifer, Kelley's partner teacher, had ever seen an elephant. It was then decided we would back up out of the park. This did not work well as the head teacher, we found out had only learned to drive in the past 3 months. He continued to drive off the road into tall grass and sticker bushes, as he laughed heartily the whole time. Finally the handyman begged to take over the wheel and we backed up, turned around and got back on the main road.

Last night, we enjoyed a great dinner with a lot of the same people. The Head Teacher's madam (had insisted that we would be given a cock earlier in the day). The students laughed as I carried this chicken home for dinner, but it did taste good. If this sounds a little rambled, it is because I am again up at 4 am typing this. The good news is the shirt I washed by hand, after company left is dry.


Time to check the Cardinals score and go to bed for another hour...

John

A Humble Day ... a day of Honor

This morning was one of the best days I have ever had in Uganda. I actually slept in and did not begin my day with 630 am Mass in Lwo. The reason was that after Mass and after greeting the Priests and the parishioners; I never get to see the raising of the flags. The Captain of the Flag Raising is very serious in his job, and I love that he works so hard to do his job right. His name is Obwona Brian Santo, and he does a great job. He has instructed both faculty and students, that they should never speak with their back to the Ugandan flag. So it is funny during these assemblies when a speaker (faculty or student) moves to the front of the flag stand. Brian will walk up to them, and politely whisper in their ear to move back behind the flags. The flag team today consisted of Brian, Olanya Vincent, and Adong Flavia

It was perfect this morning as the usual all male team was joined by a young woman. I have videotape of the ceremony, and will show it to you when I get back. But they specially tie the flags in a bundle, so they raise the bundle to the top of the flag pole, and then give it a jerk. This causes the flag first to unfurl at the top of the flag pole, as the students sing the Ugandan National Anthem. They pause in the middle of the anthem, to raise their school flag the same way, and then after the anthem is over raise the third flag, which is a flag of Pope Paul VI (resembles the Vatican flag), as the students bow their heads in prayer.

I also taped the speech of the headmaster. He has a wonderful and powerful speech pattern, where he lingers on the last word of his sentence. He started speeking about the American teachers, and said something like this, "They have spent time to do their very best for youuuuuuuuu. I call them friends of humanityyyyyyyy. You should give them a big farewell this week, a fair farewellll. I call them friends of humanity, because they are not worried about tribes, or nations, they are human beinggggggs and thus that is why I call them friends of humanity."

He then called Kelley and I to the flagpole, and told us that they wanted to give us all Acholi names. Most teachers are given Acholi names in their experience, but I have never been given one. It is not a big deal, yet I could not have foreseen how special this honor was. The Head Teacher explained to the students that they wanted to take some time giving these names so they could see who we are, and get to see our "characterrrrrrrrrrrrrr". He then start talking about me, some of the best words I have ever heard. This is close.... "In Uganda, we talk about heroes, and we have seen John Magee here every morning, he is always present, always visible. He has not missed coming to Uganda for the last 3 years (4 years of teaching). He is a man who believes what he is doing, and stands firm in his beliefs, even when others do not." Too many kind words ... "He stands for something, and he cares about the mathematics, and the students. So in our language, we will call him Oteka." He laid on that last word and held onto it, and followed it with this big hearty laugh. Some Invisible Children will know that Oteka was the name give to Nate Henn who died in the Kampala bombings. Nate, I think, was given that name is because he was a big, strong young man. I was amazed and humbled that the Head Teacher in consultation with the faculty would use that same word to talk about my beliefs and ideals.

It is often hard for us all to hear these words of praise, but I make my students stand on a chair, and be proud of who they are and what they have accomplished. I think this morning was my turn to stand on a chair...

They next renamed Kelley, and the Head Teacher gave a wonderful speech on who she was.... (If you are a friend or family of Kelley, email me, and I will find a way to send the video to you when I get home). Jacob, our Peace Corps roommate, had scrambled to get Min and Colleen out of their slumber in time to be given their names, Anywade, Child of the Moon for Colleen, and Aber, or beautiful for Min.

Next the headmaster told us we were all going to hop in his car and go to Pakwach, but I think I will save that story for later....

But Colleen did realize her dream of holding a baby goat...

Thanks to all who gave this year so I could follow my dream,
I have souvenirs for all of you, but after this morning I will
never be able to fully repay you in my lifetime,

John

3 A.M. in Anaka

Got back to Anaka after a return trip to St. Jude's, made great time and the roads were not as bad as I thought they were going to be after a lot of rain. Early this morning, Colleen and I walked about 40 minutes to get to Mass with the students at Gulu High. Each step had to be chosen wisely, as the roads were really muddy. We reached a few impasses, but kind of walked on the graas a bit. When we arrived at Gulu High, the front gate was locked and we had to wait another 7 minutes or so to get in. By the time we got to Mass, it was over. We were both disappointed as what used to be 10 am Mass was not an 830 one. Oh well, another 20 minute walk through the mud, caught a boda, and back to Kope Cafe for breakfast.

Accomplished a few more errands, and then we hoped in the IC Land Rover for a trip back to Anaka, but first a stop at St. Jude's. I really wanted the first year teachers to get a chance to get back there. It really is a place of hope, and smiles, and snot (many babies...LOL). The kids did not disappoint, the young ones came to be picked up or bounced around or just to hang on my hands as long as I could support their weight. I started purposely walking over the little ones, as my legs are taller than they are high. Anything to see the laughter and the smiles that I knew St. Jude's was about. There was another white woman there I did not recognize, and maybe it was her that brought the kite. But the kite was great, (I was thinking it was not going to fly with no wind), but by just running as fast as they could, the boys got the kite moderately high. It was neat the way they would run as fast as they could, and then when they got tired, handed off to a friend.

I walked to the end of the buildings and greeted Filda. We both had so many memories of our last meeting. She thanked me (I accepted the thanks, but felt weird) and we talked a bit. She told me that she was broken hearted because that one, Samuel was one of her favorite little ones. I told her that many were praying for Samuel, and Father Tom Poth had actually said a Mass from Nicaragua. Many of the mothers were sitting on a porch, and Filda introduced me as "the one who helped us" and I needed to do something. So I looked on the roof and saw a stuffed bear that must have been thrown up there....first I tried to fish it off with a jump rope, but was unsuccessful and then found a stick with a perpendicular flat piece of board nailed to it. Exactly the tool I needed to get down a dirty stuffed bear..... but it worked....

Still thinking so I snuck alone to the edge of the buildings taking pictures of children. I ducked into their small, but beautiful chapel and felt confident that God was here for the children. I then walked around the back, being careful not to let others watch my actions, from about 25 feet away, I saw a new concrete lid to a hole in the ground....today that was good enough...and I felt guilty checking on the progress of many who cared daily for the young unwanted children, but I had to check ....25 feet was close enough. I turned circled back and saw many children.....how many more smiles and laughter could I squeeze into my brain in the next 4 minutes before it would be time for the Pope Paul VI crew to get back into the vehicle....how many....


John

Honoring My 2 Favorite Americans

Tonight, I am hosting a special dinner for my 2 favorite "Americans" Okaali John and Odong Robert Oryema. We are going to a place run by a guy out of Chicago and are going to have pizza. The year is winding up by trying to reconnect with old friends until our paths cross again. This morning, several men were working at removing trash from the streets of Gulu. I started to take a wide berth, when the man from the top of the truck said, "Hi, John." It was Patrick Munduga, the head of Invisible Children's Schools 4 Schools program... in some way my boss. And then I remembered that he had talked about his church community was going to do service to the Gulu area, by spending a whole day picking up trash. Trash is sometimes burned and sometimes just thrown into the gutters to wash to the bottom of the city. These gutters can be nasty, and getting involved in picking up the worst of the city is truly a service. I think it is maybe the most humbling experience one can do.

So looking forward to a great dinner, have had cold beers, and right now an ice cold 500 mL Orange Fanta. You forget how much you miss cold drinks until you have one. Revisiting St. Jude's on Sunday before heading back for the final days at Popavissa.

Click on the title for the story of more wonderful Ugandans coming to America

John

Weasel -- by Tim Hart

This has been another great summer meeting fantastic people. I think I have reached people as they have obviously reached me.

But you don't defeat 20 years of war, you don't defeat poverty, and you don't win all of the battles for children who have lived horrible lives.

Clicking on the title of this article will bring you to Tim's Story

to read a story about one young man named Weasel...

This story is a great story, it is interesting, it is real, and it shows the reality of a war torn region. It will still tear me up years from now. Although I have not met Weasel, I know him.

I actually liked that a student did not want to leave the exam room. I respect the passion in his make-up and his fight against his situation. I know after I read this story, it just makes me want to work harder-- do more. And I am going to need some committed young people to join me in this quest.

If the story is too tough, I have added funny pictures to the right.


John

Good Dinner -- Short Post

Last Night we went across "the street" to our fellow teachers's house. We enjoyed a dinner of great chicken, potatoes, casaba -- kind of like potatoes--, sliced tomatoes, carrots, and of course, a big bowl of roasted white ants.

My knee has recovered nicely, so I am not limping through the school buildings. This blog is tough to write, as I am using Father's Italian computer which is just a bit different... We go back to Gulu in a couple of hours, then back to Pope Paul for just a few days...

Good pictures coming...

Random (of course they are not random!!!) thoughts

The pig picture at left was taken, by me holding my computer open in a slight drizzle to capture a 250 lb. pig that suddenly was next to my house, I left my camera in Gulu...but I wanted this picture...

The best picture of the day, which I may get a chance to upload tomorrow is me next to a R.O.U.S.

A good night, with an impromptu exam review session for S.1. students....

Of course, I twisted my knee like 5 times in the last week or so, so I am walking around school grounds like I am 75 years old...

I may lose internet (mobile internet) in an hour, so there may only be blogs on the weekends soon.

John

Old Man Take a look at yourself.....

It started out pretty good, Kelley talked me into walking up to see the Priests mid-afternoon, we got lunch, although I have not been feeling right for a day or two. Then after lunch, when I saw Father Leonsyo's stash of bamboo. I asked him if I could have a small piece. He called his carpentry guy, and soon Patrick and I were cutting a 112 cm bamboo stick. I had tennis balls, I had bought in Gulu, and I was going to hit fungo (fly balls) to the students. Father asked how I played it, so I picked up a small piece of fruit, smaller than a golfball, and expected to hit it out of the yard. It did not happen, I think I missed 4 times in a row, how can I not hit fungo? On one of the misses, I twisted my knee (retwisted it actually).... so I was left with my pride and my knee hurting a bit.

But fungo went well, with me hitting tennis balls to Pope Paul students (about 4 of them) as about 55 people watched. Soon they had picked up another stick, not near as my bamboo custom made bat, and they tried. I walked to their side of the field to help them hit a ball by throwing it into the air. One of the studentts pantomimed golf, and asked if I knew that game. I said yes. He then said, "You should play that sport, sir, it is a good sport for fat men."


Got home for dinner, the students have organized study halls from 7-10 pm, most nights. I went into one of the Senior 3 rooms, and spent 2 hours teaching them mathematics.....


That is all, my internet solution may not work, but don't worry worst case, I will be in touch Friday morning for most of you.



John

China --- the New World Power

An interesting phenomenon is happening here..... Satellite TV....but not just Satellite TV, but China TV. The school, Pope Paul VI, did a good thing by getting satellite TV for the World Cup. They broadcast it so students could see it. It was a great opportunity for the students, and also a way to bring students and teachers together, but here is the fallout:

Most Northern Ugandans have not seen TV, they have some video huts that pop up occasionally, and you would pay a small fee to walk in the hut and watch, usually only Nigerian soap operas, English soccer, or Music videos.

So now, Ugandans are getting hit with TVs with hundreds of channels, and it is very tempting to watch. Teachers who have not seen this much TV before sit in the staff room and watch TV-- no matter what it is.

Since the World Cup is over, the school is no longer paying for the package, so they only get 3 channels--for free I think. They are all Chinese channels whose commercials paint China like a combination of Paris, Rome, Hawaii, and Disneyland complete with giant cartoon characters. The news is all produced by China, but often has english speaking Anglos delivering the news.

We just spent an hour watching three morning show hosts yuk it up talking about China. The one guy had a polo with the collar popped, a young attractive woman, and another guy.

So is China sneaking into the hearts and minds of the third world through free TV? We drink Chinese bottled water here (no problems), but many of the other goods are made in China and very cheaply made. Just ask any of us what we think about Chinese toilet paper after 6 weeks....

Students have started exams and school is winding down for the second term....looks like I will see many of you soon....with the Cardinals having a 6 game lead in the standings...

Got it,

John

Shoes

My black shoes are split from mid-foot to almost the little toe, I am hoping they will last my final 8 days of teaching. Those shoes have been with me for all 4 years, I remember buying them at Shoe Carnival cheap in 2007, so I could just leave them behind. Somehow they have lasted. They marked up the dance floor at Tim and Terri's anniversary party, before I knew how bad they would leave marks. They started at Awere SS, and have been my school shoes at Gulu SS, and through the mud and dust at Atanga SS, to make their final appearance this year at Pope Paul VI. I tried to fix them a week ago, with a piece of gray duct tape, that I meticulously colored black with a Sharpie....only to see that method fail one short trip through the school grounds.

The black shoes are the Yin to the Yang of my Crocs, also 4 year veterans. The Crocs are so worn down that I slip on them constantly on any kind of wet surface. I took a big header when we were walking in the dark to Okot Jolly's house and the other teachers were quite amused. I had put myself as the favorite to fall first with odds of 3-1 much like Spain's World Cup odds. I bought another pair of Crocs for the trip, but I am such a slave to tradition that they got left behind.

So many of our students are working hard to reuse and recycle and not waste in America. If you want to really see recycling, come to a country much like Uganda. There is almost no trash, everything is reused. The plastic water bottles we give to students will soon be sold in town for 40 shillings to hold a small amount of gasoline or kerosene. The other day, a man had their mimeograph machine apart into several dozen pieces. He was taking a hack saw and cutting down one of the rollers to make it run smoother. I do not see a lot of people fixing things in America, but here almost everyone is handy in some way. The bicycle repairmen can probably fix the transmission on a Toyota, or at least get a few hundred more kilometers out of the vehicle. Students have sandals made out of old tires, and children play with a wide variety of once useful parts of something as toys.

Today, Kelley and I saw two little boys, maybe they were 4, work together to get water out of the well. The boy was not tall enough or strong enough to work the handle so instead of lifting it 3 feet, he went back and forth raising it an inch or two in a rapid motion. It would have been probably the 5 cutest pictures I have taken in Africa, but unfortunately neither one of us had a camera. As they walked away with their half-gallon containers, both boys raised them to their head, and started practicing how to carry the water.

Last night was movie night and we watched Millions. If you have never seen that movie rent it now. I have a copy that I somehow left behind, so I took 3 weeks here to slowly but surely download it on iTunes. Not much else, except think about you have the ability to reuse or overuse in your life, and try it. Some say that my black shoes look nice (by the way I am still looking for that some, so comment at the end if you believe that)....

John


Update: My friend Daneen Leidig (T/EX 2009) is trying to help a young man go to the University to help repair medical equipment. There may be only 3 people in the country who know how to repair medical equipment. A statistic I believe after the cord fiasco with little man, Samuel. Anyway I contributed, and if you would like the email or want to contact Daneen... Here is her email daneenleidig@gmail.com

Atanga SS Yes!!!!!!!!!!

After talking with Ocwa Alfred and Obonyo Sam, I knew I needed to visit Atanga SS---no matter what. To recap a little, there was some problems with the Head Teacher and the students felt that their one chance at an education was being compromised. So they reacted in the wrong way with violence. So the head teacher is gone, after recovering from the beating in the hospital, and the students and teachers are left to pick up the pieces. Some students took this opportunity to give up and leave school, some teachers are noticeably absent, but that I think just leaves the students and the teachers behind even more resolute to succeed.

At first, my visit looked in trouble. I was not able to convince our leaders about this trip. Since the bombing in Kampala, IC is being very, very cautious and travelling to Atanga in a non-IC vehicle was not allowed. But after the tragedy of last Sunday, I think everyone realised (bonus Ugandan spelling) that I was going.

As Group 1 left, I was able to give them my new traditional good-bye (John Magee and 5 little ones, saluting them behind a Ugandan flag). Next Group 2 left for Safari, and it was just me. Sunday (that is his name) soon came in a vehicle, we stopped on the way out of town to pick up a case of Fanta Orange for the students and we began the journey. It is always a 2 person operation in driving you somewhere, so Sunday had to do something (or maybe just did not relish 4 hours on an awful road) and he replaced himself with a guy named Bongo Man. Bongo Man was friendly and got in to the vehicle with a heavy shirt with the American flag printed on the pocket.

I was so anxious to get there, but a rib-shaker, butt crusing, head banging of a bump made me realise the uncertainty of any journey in Uganda. I cranked out a couple of Hail Marys and sure enough, five minutes later the vehicle came to a complete stop. The driver reached behind his seat, right at my feet, and reconnected a battery cable to the battery and we drove on. It had rained this morning so the road was in awful shape....sure enough the vehicle stopped again after a half hour....All in all, we stopped 5 times to reconnect the battery. Since the road was bad, a journey that takes 70 minutes (not counting my ride with the Norwegian refugee Council when they did it in 46) was pushing 2 hours. When I saw the familiar town center of Lakecokoyot, I was pumped. Waiting at the sign post of Atanga SS were 2 students, who waved and followed us into the school. I was hoping there was going to be students on a Saturday, but I did not know....Knowing there were 2 waiting at the gate, 500 meters from the school made me SMILE, SMILE, SMILE.

I had told Alfred and Sam, I was going to come, and they gave the message to the students. I was excited as we pulled in and started to walk towards the faculty lounge (a large Mango tree), we were soon being followed by 80 to 100 students. I beckoned them to join us, and soon I was sitting in a chair, and talking to so many of my old friends and familiar faces. It was weird, as I was telling them how happy I was to be back, every time I took a breath they applauded. Kwolyero Ronald, is now the head boy (YEAH!!!--think of my happiness when Emily Done and Haley Hunter won the Father Nerinckx Award) and he got up to speak.

I think Ronald was upset and disappointed with himself that he was not able to control the students more during the student uprising. I know he should not be; I am sure he did all he could, but boy do I know the feeling of wanting a Ugandan redo. He gave a very good speech. I responded to his words by telling him and the rest of the gatehered that I am so, so proud of my students when they graduate from Nerinx (pat yourself on the back '10ers and '09ers, etc.), but I cannot even imagine how proud they should be of themselves at Atanga. The students who pass the S.4. exams have overcome so much poverty, so much violence, and so much war--the fact that they kept their eyes on the prize and triumphed amidst other students not being able to continue is amazing.

I handed them a new soccer ball, and a new wiffle ball set....I then realized I also had on me, about 150 silly bands that I was going to save for small children, but these ones....These ones are MY students....so all of the silly bands were distributed. It was a short trip probably only staying for 90 minutes, but a really wonderful trip. The teachers invited me for some food, and it was good beef...The cost and difficulty in finding beef like that I know was an amazing and impossible task in Atanga. But they did it -- for me. And some people still wonder why I keep coming back. How can I not? I am constantly flabbergasted by the kindness and generosity of the Acholi people. Alfred even handed me 5000/= shillings on my way out of town to buy water.

So hopefully Jen, Michelle, Colleen, Kelley, and the others saw Lions and Hippos and wonderful scenes that cannot be replaced in their lifetime sitting on Mattresses on top of the vehicles. I hope they saw baby elephants, graceful giraffes, and hippos and crocodiles. For me, my animals came much smaller--colorful silly bands on a wonderful group of students: Students who have struggled so much just to learn and succeed, and their caring teachers who have not given up the fight. They need your prayers because the struggle continues of limited resources and limited funds, but they also deserve your admiration. I think my view sitting under a Mango tree was unrepeatable. At the end of a long, bumpy road in Northern Uganda are students of character, students of strength, students of humility, students of kindness....they are my students

John Magee
Teacher
Atanga SS

Back of a Mitsubishi Truck and more adventures......

Thursday night ended with a spirited game of Uno with 5 Ugandans and 5 Americans... Eventually we ran out of cards, and so we played for about 30 minutes reshuffling discards. Father Leonsyo, told us all that he was a man of peace, right before playing a wild draw 4 on his Deacon. We finally gave up on the game, and walked home around midnight. It was a good time and a great dinner with both old and new friends. We had Kob (look it up, it is a kind of antelope I think), it tasted fantastic.

It was tough getting up for Mass at 6 am, but luckily I woke up at 5:22 and was awake enough to fumble sleeplessness and confusion when Colleen (Smiles) came into my room to grab the internet stick.. Colleen was getting up early to lesson plan and try to create something real special for her students and her class, she is such a fantastic presence here. Such a wonderfully goofy and kind person, who has probably cared about the world and others since she was 8. (She actually told me how she organized an anti-fur petition drive in the Second Grade and mailed it to the Ohio Attorney General). Mass was good, but just a little bit delayed (apparently the Uno game went to long...LOL)...

I then walked to school with Father Marten and Deacon James, we arrived in the middle of morning assembly. Father Marten had joked with the Pope Paul VI students about not walking with the Priests or they would be late. As I walked up to the assembly there was a student reading news from a page. It was hard for me to understand his accent until he said, "A Senior 2 Girl had an extreme gas problem. When asked to comment a fly responded, "I thought she was already dead." It apparently is something the students do....they have fake news, the students loved it, and were laughing uproariously on more than one occasion.

Deacon James gave a great speech about starting now in secondary school to pursue your dreams. It was well done, and I believe was well received by the students. Then the headmaster, gave another good speech, and its tone was to get the job done. I then realized that the assembly was past 8 and I was worried about missing my ride with Father Leonsyo.

Found Kelley and we walked to the parish together. Since Kelley and Father were doing something productive, and I was just hitching a ride, I hopped in the back of the truck. First I had to throw all the sugar cane that was left behind out....so it was just me, my new bag, and an old tire.... Soon it was off down a bumpy rode, and me holding on the to top of the metal framework. It was a bumpy, bumpy ride, and I had to keep switching positions to make myself comfortable. I counted I was airborne (meaning my butt off the ground) 18 times including the rare double air. Father had a tarp over the front of the bed, so it was interesting when we went by people walking and cycling saw a big white man holding onto the truck dressed in a shirt and tie.

They waved and laughed and many of the small children enjoyed with pointing, laughing, and waving....Okay so Group 1 is leaving and I have to say good-bye...
so will finish later

Acholi Secondary Sub Region Mock Math Examination WITH A NEW ENDING

A quick refresher on the Ugandan school system.... They have 7 primary grades where after they complete take the PLE exam. If they do not pass this exam, they are sent back to repeat P7 for another year. Most who flunk try a different school or drop out entirely. They then have 4 years of Secondary School, where at the end they take another test, that may or may not let them finish their secondary school education in P5 and P6. Got it... okay


Today, I proctored a 5 hour math examination in 2 parts to our Senior 4 classes. Senior 4 is in three streams, Red, White, and Green. Today, I spent most of my time with Senior 4 White. The Ugandan school system does not currently do to much for the bottom students, they are not particularly encouraging, and the students who struggle often find ways to ditch class. Since about 15 to 20 ditch every day from a stream of 63....it is easy to get lost. It is only at examination time, when the classes are full.

On the other hand, the tough love, and harshness for failure turn the top 1/3 of each section into pretty amazing students. The exam they take at the end of S4 will greatly affect their future, as Universities are not open to all, just the very elitc academically. There are copies of past exams that the students use to study that are hoarded by students. Getting a copy of a past UNEB test (which is legal, they sell books in the store with them) is like getting a Mickey Mantle rookie card.

They really want to succeed and their doggedness and determination is amazing. (Right now it is about 1100 pm and 2 cows are mooing right outside my window), I just wish I can find a way to take 4 or 5 of these marvelous students and put them into an American high school for a year. Their quest for knowledge, resources, and help in educating themselves would be sated in a more fully stocked school....

So occasionally, I get a comment that the education system in Uganda must lag substantially behind the American system. When I tell this specific group of people this, there is an almost, "Really, what math are the Ugandans learning?" You would be amazed at the problems these students tackle. There is some frustration on my part, because sometimes the way students are taught here is overly complicated in mathematics, and I fail to see the point....but still these students soldier on, they want to succeed, they want to do well... So that is what I want to tell you, the American education system is some years ahead of the Ugandan system. But the drive, determination, and diligence of the students of Ugandan students match or maybe exceed the drive of American students. I would say definitely succeed, but I have taught some wonderful students in my Nerinx classes the last few years, and I would put the drive of Meaghan or Mary or Emily or (you get the picture...I teach great kids) against the best of the Ugandans. What a wonderful life I lead that I get to compare great kids to great kids.

The word of Samuel's Death reached Father Tom Poth in Nicaragua and he shared these words.... I hope he does not mind me sharing them. Father Tom has a distinct link with my Ugandan travels, as he so wonderfully summarized what Invisible Children was about in a morning Mass in New York after last summer.

"Unfortunately there are too many sad stories and usually the children are the victims. John ..... is in a world so very different from what we all grew up with in STL. Living in a 3rd world is not always beautiful. But the faith and hope that people have is always amazing to me and many times very sobering…especially when I want to quit and return to the States..... Tell John we will celebrate mass for Samuel tomorrow here in Nicaragua."

Thanks Father Tom for more great words, and I do see the faith, hope and kindness of the people of the Acholi region in Uganda. But I am teacher so more often I see students who will do anything to learn.....And that is why I keep coming back.


John Magee

Mathematics-- A Night Game UPDATED

Pope Paul VI has a boys' dorm and a girls' dorm. Last might the girls spent most of the evening, praying and singing. They believed one of the girls in the dorm was set onto by a demon, or an evil spirit. I do not know if the student has some form of seizure disorder, post traumatic stress disease, or a mental health problem, but her fellow classmates were doing all they could to heal her.

But tonight was all about mathematics. Each night, the boarders and I think some from town, sit in the classrooms from after dinner to sometimes late at night (think 10 pm). I decided I was going to take advantage of this captive audience and review some mathematics. I think 2 of the teachers watching over the students were surprised when I showed up, but after understanding what I was trying to do, went out of their way to get me supplies.


I walked into Senior 4 Red (which consists of one third of the S.4. class). I started a problem about length of tangents and area of a triangle less a circle, and students poured into the class from the white and green sections. I think at the end, I had over 100 students asking questions and preparing for the math mock exam ( a practice test to get them ready for the real one in December0... It was an absolutely fantastic night... We discussed problems (the real S4 exam is cumulative over the first four years of their secondary schooling) that they did not know how to do and also some they were struggling with....

After awhile, students started writing problems on pieces of paper and giving them to me to do next. I kind of felt like I was a piano player at an Airport Hilton getting requests to play "Piano Man" or "Candle in the wind." The students are much quieter in this situation than Nerinx girls, but some of that is because of my American accent and American ways.

OH, I ALMOST FORGOT.....One of the problems was a Venn diagram problem similar to one we might attempt in the states. You have to find 3 different sets, and figure out how many are in the overlapping circles...and then maybe find out how many are in none of the sets. At Nerinx, I do this problem with soccer, field hockey, and theater for instance. The problem last night, said this.....In a church group of 125, 80 people are loving, 55 people are giving, 62 people are caring, 15 people are loving and caring, etc. We solved the problem the answer to none of these 3 would have been just as mathematically possible with any number in the neither set...even 0. So not only is the problem funny, but in the end we calculated and found in a church group of 125 people....20 people were not caring, loving, or giving.....too funny.....After calculating that number I commented that maybe those 20 need more church....The joke did not commmunicate well and not one of the 100 students laughed.... Oh well, 12 hours later I STILL THINK THE WHOLE PROBLEM IS FUNNY.


About two problems in, I saw a kid in the back of the room wearing a Mizzou Tigers sweatshirt.... I, of course, singled him out for praise. At the end, I told the students that "I love mathematics."

Truly I do.


still just a big tall math geek,

John

Exchange Rates

Right now 2254 Ugandan Shilling = 1 U.S. Dollar

A smile from a Ugandan Child going to school = Gold, baby, Pure Gold...

Today on my walks through town, I smiled and talked to every kid I could find...As they would sometimes rush to shake my hand, today I rushed to them.

I took their smiles and their hand shakes, and their "How are yous?" and put them straight into my heart.....

There was a small child, the son of one of our staff kicking a soccer ball in the back yard. I called him over and just held him for a minute.

The Hardest Post I Have Written in 4 years..... with a Coda

This is a tough story, but it is a true story. You need to be ready for these words. So take a minute, and decide...


So today, I got up a little late. We had a great night last night with the teachers playing cards across the road, playing spoons with bottle caps. A whole group wanted to play cards, and a couple of teachers did not know trick games, so we played spoons which I had just learned in Mississippi with my Nerinx people. It was an amazingly spirited game, with a great group of people.

I told myself that I was going to get up for 10 am Mass at Gulu High, one of my favorite Ugandan experiences. But when I woke up, I was lazy and although I pride myself on always making Mass, today I did not... (5 hours later, I would regret this decision).

So I went into town with a great group, Kelley and I, Joe and Pablo, and later Mandy, Andy, and Julie joined later. We were at Kope Cafe, and a good breakfast, during the breakfast the power came on, and I realized I could get a hair cut........

I know now I am rambling, but I know the end of this story....and I am not sure I am ready to go there.

So many errands later, I got home in time for Group 2's visit to St. Jude's Orphanage. An amazing place, run by a great woman named Filda, and some amazing "moms" who each watch 8 to 10 kids. We took an Invisible Children vehicle, and I was able to get out first, because I was in the passenger seat up front. A few kids I recognized came up and said hi. And then a little one was walking up warily, and I beckoned him to come join me. He grabbed my index finger and my pinky, and I picked him up, and spun him around. He laughed and giggled and just wanted more....so much joy....

Then I saw another kid kicking a soccer ball toward Danielle, yelling "Munu, Munu.. He ran to the netball (kind of like basketball) and took a shot at the rim. He missed so I picked him up and got him close to the rim, but he still was not close.... It was starting to be such a great day, of little kids laughing and so much luaghter.

Then we heard, people yelling and saying stuff like a kid has fallen, and a kid fell in a well. I now remember chasing Tim and Smiles to the back of a building. They were about 8 to 10 of the older girls, doubled over crying and wailing. I could not discern right away what was happening....but an older Ugandan man was trying to put a metal ladder in a hole... The hole was made of concrete and square, and I could clearly see that the ladder could not fit in the hole. I thought I looked in the hole, but my perception was tragically wrong. It looked to me like the whole was 20 inches deep, and the child who had fallen might have crawled away from the opening.

After watching the man try to put this ladder into the hole, 4 or 5 times. I had enough. I still thought the child might be down a tunnel somewhere, and I was thinking if he could see a hand, he would crawl to it. I pushed the man out of the way, and laid on my belly, and reached into the hole. To my surprise and horror I realized that what I thought was the bottom of the hole, was just a bunch of stagnant water, full of shit, and sewage. Now reaching into this putrid water, I realized, there might be a child in it. I reached further and felt what first felt like a water soaked bag of bread or trash. I was about to toss it away to get deeper, when I felt the leg of a child, as I realized this, the child start to slip away from my grasp, I reached with my other hand, and pulled the child from this sewage. We put him on the ground, he was unconscious, and we started with chest compressions. Sewage and bile, and food stuff started coming out of his mouth. I started screaming that I do not know what to do, surely one of us was better trained than I!

Colleen was there soon, and I had my hand down the child's mouth pulling gunk and garbage out. She told me I had to go deeper, and she reached further than I pulling out more. We continued with chest compressions, and Colleen starting screaming, "How long has this kid been here?" "How long has he been in there?" The Ugandans started taking off of his soiled clothes, and trying to wash him as we tried feebly at more CPR. Min was now here, and she told me I had to breath into his mouth, but he seemed so fragile that I was afraid, I was going to break this young body. So I started trying to blow or breathe into his mouth, and then I would have to spit into the well, as everything around his mouth was full of food or crap or sewage, it was hard to tell, but I kept thinking that this kid could make it. I pushed back his eyelid, but as I stared into his eye, I realized I had no idea what I was looking for. I tried to get a neck pulse, but did not feel a pulse, but kind of thought I was doing it wrong.

We then started screaming, we need to get this kid to a hospital. "Can we take him to a hospital?" There was so much confusion, no one really knew what to do...and there was no answer. We finally decided we were taking him to the hospital, and a young mother from the orphanage, Colleen, Min, and I along with the child jumped into the back of the Range Rover. I remember Min telling me, we had to keep trying to resuscitate him on the way to the hospital. So as our driver, Cristof, did a superb job of moving with haste down a bumpy road, the 3 of us, tried to resuscitate him.... More sewage, and stuff was coming out of him, so Colleen and Min took turns, trying to breathe life into our young friend. They took turns also spitting out shit,(and that might be literal), that they had inhaled. I held his foot, and said Hail Marys as fast as I could. Cristof was honking constantly, and I could see people and cars jumping out of our way.

We got to Lacor Hospital, and I thought great we are here, and we had a chance. We were screaming at people, where is the Emergency Room, but there really was not a response from dozens of people. I do not know why? Was this tragedy, a too often occurance, or did 3 white people running through the hospital just shock and confuse people. The mother who was caring the child, ran out of energy and steam 100 yards into her sprint, so Colleen doubled back, and started carrying the lifeless child. We finally found a place, and a doctor. The doctor worked on the the child on the end of a bed, that already contained 2 children getting treatment, with their mother. In this small room, there were probably 7 beds, 10 moms, and maybe 14 children.

The doctors worked to find the right equipment and the right tools. They intubated him, and worked to clear his air passage.. At one time, they were going to use another machine, but it needed power and did not have the right power cord. I remember thinking, are you kidding me? My first experience with a hospital in a developing country, was not a good one. Too many people and not enough medicine and staff, but this is just the way it is. And I have talked to wonderful people who do their best at these hospitals. And I am not blaming anyone, but the first person who crabs about our health care system when I get home, I might punch them...

We had left our house at 2:01 pm, probably got to the orphanage, at 2:15, and it was still around 3 at this time...As I look back, I am amazed at how much happened in such a short time. I did not really look at the woman from the orphanage who got in the vehicle with us, and as I looked at a room of crying, concerned women, I did not even know who was with us... I was troubled by this lack of understanding and compassion by myself.

I then saw a tall woman, dressed in her Sunday Best with a head wrap to match her dress. I looked into her face, and recognized her as Filda, who runs St. Jude's. She is such an amazing woman, and she always remembers me and greets me warmly, each year I see her. I introduced myself, and she looked barely aware that I was talking to her. The doctors continued to resuscitate and try different stuff. Filda overcome with grief dropped to her knees, I thought she was praying, so I knelt alongside her, grabbed her hand and started saying Hail Marys, Colleen was soon next to me, holding my hand, and Min was next to her. Somewhere in here, I remember thinking about not going to Mass, and thinking I did not have time for God this morning...what makes me think he has time for me now? (I know this is not a good thought, but it is the one I had.)

I had seen this seen so many times on TV, this kid was going to cough twice, and start crying and we would all hug each other. That is when I noticed, the Doctor hooked his stethoscope onto the bed frame, and did not do it without a real urgency, and I knew. They tried different things, but I already knew. I went to Filda, and asked his name. She said Samuel, and said he was 2 and a half. The doctors stopped their efforts and looked at us and said, "We are sorry." I looked at my phone, for some reason I had to know the time. Sweet Baby Samuel had passed at 3:06 p.m. Filda reached over to the blanket he was on, and very gently and very lovingly started folding the blanket around him. Min cried to me, "John we have to pray, we have to pray before they take him away!"....I stumbled out some words, and said a Hail Mary...I remember saying "Godspeed, Samuel, Godspeed...."


This day, hit all of us so, so hard. The 11 or so that were there at St. Jude's and the other teachers that soon heard the awful news. So many of these wonderful teachers and friend, hugged, cried, and talked to each other... It was an odd, yet I guess later when I look back... a very faithful experience. I can't look back yet, not right now.... I have the very real tactile memory, of realizing, in this muck and crap, I had hold of a child's leg....I have so many memories, and I have the absolute regret of not pushing that stupid ladder away sooner, and getting into that hole....When I talk to the others, I tell them he was there too long, and despite our efforts the story was over before we stared our efforts, but for me......I want that time back so, so badly....I want that 2 minutes or 40 seconds or whatever it was that I felt I could have acted sooner....It will take awhile, and do not worry, I have great friends alongside me.....but I want it all back,......I want one more chance to save little Samuel.

I have now slept for 4 hours, and woke up to revisit this terribly sad story. I realize the last couple of sentences are too self-centered and I do not like them. This is not my story after all it is all of ours (the teachers), but most important this is Samuel's story....And right now, I am just real sad, and I can feel tears in my eyes for my young friend who I never saw play, I never saw laugh, and I never grabbed his hand and swung him around.

"Godspeed, little man, Sweet Dreams, little man"..

1+1=3

It is amazing to talk to people. I mean really, really talk to people. I knew like 5 of these people before I got to this country, Americans at least--- each year the number of Ugandans I know grows.....

but I wish all of you, could journey into the unknown, meet total strangers, and talk about your dreams and your fears. It is an amazing experience.

We are staying close to home, more to not put extra worry into the IC hearts that have had a very tough week.. I really believe Gulu is safer now than at any time I have been here. So after dinner and talking with 30 people, Tim, Pablo, and I walked across the street to the Ethiopian restaurant for a beer or a water, but mostly just to trade stories. Tim is a bartender--restauranteur turned teacher from New York, who has a veteran's simplicity to the world. I feel when I am gone a week, I need a few minutes to check in with Tim to get a feel of what has happened since I have been gone. Pablo is one of those skinny guys who can do more on the dance floor than myself (which is definitely saying something), he has a good ear, and a good judge of people....He has a gentleness and a kindness that the women on this trip picked up quickly.

We were joined at the bar, Julie, Lisa, Lindsey, and Kristen.... Julie was a boarding school soccer player, who has a great sense of humor, and rocks those preppy plaid shorts. She played soccer in college, and I think the reason, I love her so much is that I could easily see her playing soccer at Nerinx (and let's face it Nerinx girls you are the best and my most favorite people in the world).... It was especially neat tonight when Julie stopped to praise Kristen in front of the whole group for doing amazing work at St. Jude's with the disable children there. When she recanted the story to our small group, she told us how the soccer playing at St. Jude's did not go well, as it was one against all, but then she stepped over and saw the amazing things Kristen was doing and got sucked into Kristen and her love and talent working with the disabled.

Lindsay and Lisa were with me last year, and their pragmatism, along with Lindsey's ever present smile, and Lisa putting her southern pragmatism into a well placed cutting remark, make me feel so comfortable when I come back to Gulu. Aaaaaahhh, a smart ass who does not put up with bullshit (now I am home....)
A great conversation with a special group of people....

As I walked home, I stopped by our porch between the two sections of our house to greet Mandy and Andy.....Yes, young ones, they are now a couple, and as my students would say, "are so cute together." Mandy is going with me tomorrow as a former hair stylist to see what a Ugandan haircut is about, and she is a sweetheart and a very caring person. Mandy has already taken chances and risks in her life to follow her own path and her own heart..and I admire her greatly for following her own voice. Andy has emerged as the clever, comedic voice of the first group (don't worry I am still funny, but not around during the week) PLUS the dude is kind of funny. We talked about concerns and worries of the week that led into a discussion of AMDG (Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam--for the greater glory of God) and a couple other wonderful topics. The interesting part was we were in front of a Kerosene lamp as the winged White Ants converged on us.... So as we were talking, sharing dreams and secrets, I would grab a white ant by the wing, and throw it to the ground (they might be the easiest bugs in the world to catch).. I am not normally a red wine drinker, but Mandy kept pouring, the conversation kept flowing, and some stupid ants kept interrupting only to be sent hurdling to the ground with a flick of the wrist. I cannot tell you how many great conversations I have had in the African night with amazing people...Each of them a bit different, but all of them here to share their diverse talents with the people of Northern Uganda. The conversation ended when my alarm went off at 11:59 pm, meaning it was time to call St. Louis.

A fairly amazing man had died, and I wanted to call St. Louis, and let his daughter Claudia know that I was thinking about her and her family. Earlier this morning when I went to Mass entirely in Lwo, I prayed for them. Even from Uganda, it is actually fairly simple to reach out to others and let them know they matter, and you are so happy to have them in your life.

As I walked inside, I ran into Kelley who has been away from Anaka and our little group as she travelled the country with Father Leonsyo. She told me that she wanted to share and talk about her last 3 days and we should plan some time tomorrow to do that.


So you see, I have come to Africa to have wonderful conversations with total strangers that become close friends almost instantly after one great conversation, and after listening, really listening to what they are saying.....but I can now tell you that these conversations could happen anywhere.... it takes an openness, it takes a certain amount of risk.....

but they could happen in Webster Groves or Shrewsbury as easily as Gulu and Anaka.

I am so, so grateful for the old friends that have sent me here, and the new friends who pour me red wine as the white ants attack....

Thanks to the old, thanks to the new, and thanks to those I have not yet met....

always your friend,

John

Silly Bands and Silly Kids

Another small child walked into Mass this morning and knelt in the pew in front of me. He was wearing a school uniform shirt, a white shirt with a blue collar, and the same blue trim at the end of his short sleeves. He was also wearing faded Hulk sweatpants and like all youngsters here -- no shoes. His shirt was dirty, but then I was thinking how is an 8 year olds' shirt ever clean. They play everywhere, and everywhere has the red dust that flies up from the earth as little feet laugh and play on it. I would like to see that commercial from the 70s where housewives argue what is the toughest dirt to remove. It would be real funny I think to place in the middle of the middle class conversation, an Anakan mom who washes the dirty clothes of their children by hand .

I remember at Priory, we were encouraged to see Christ in all human beings, that was quite easy today, as my young friend smiled at me during the Sign of Peace, and then looked back several times in the next minute to smile again. It was almost as if he thought I might be a dream, and if he did not check up on me, I would be gone.

After Mass, I handed out 3 or 4 Silly Bands that I brought for just this occasion to the small children. I also hand them out to the 3 high school students that were with me. Mickey and Agnes (two young girls that I had met yesterday) and Dennis (whom I had met earlier when Father Leonsyo arrived home) and I walked to school together. They asked me about farming in America, (I really need a better answer for that question, it gets asked every year), they asked me about Sunday in America. I told them about our traditions of many who eat a big meal (breakfast) after Church on Sundays. I told them I loved breakfast and I loved food. I also told about family meals of 17 on Sundays. They asked me about this, and I told them, "My mom is the best cook in America, that is why I am so big, I always eat her food."

They laughed and asked where not my friends big too, because they would have eaten my mother's food also. I then told them how tall Erin and Kurt are...


John

Random Thoughts

Made it to 6:30 am Mass this morning, I was planning on going every day, but yesterday our grill work was padlocked and the girls had the key in their room. I was kind of tired, so I cannot say I minded too much.....

Today, Mass was again in the dark, but the people are so dedicated and kind. Walked to school with two girls who go to Mass, it was a great walk and a great start to the day.

Saw the flag-raising ceremony today at the Morning Parade (assembly), it was kind of cool as they send the flags bundled to the top, then they yank the rope, and the flag unfurls at the top of the pole. They have an honor guard, who really understand their role. Today, one of the kids told the adults that they should not be addressing the students from the front of the flag stand, as you should never place your back to the flags.....

A couple of good classes, today, we lost our middle class, but then got in back (the timetable is not consistent...LOL), but we were able to get it back and worked hard to get the content to the students....

A couple of more one on one help sessions....and then home....

Brought the wiffle ball and bat up to the field behind the schools and we played wiffle ball for an hour....

Came home and was disappointed that my tennis racket shaped, battery powered bug zapper was not making loud zaps, as the bugs were killed. Mosquitoes are still winning....


John

Tuesday at Pope Paul VI

Today was a day filled with promise, starting with a good lesson and ending with playing Frisbee with about 8 of the high school boys, and about 5 primary school kids. The one primary school kid, Jacob, was great as he shagged all errant throws back to me. I almost did not even bend over while playing Frisbee. It might have been a bad idea during dinner, as the students (the boarders) get served dinner on plastic plates. I looked once behind me, and there were 9 different dinner plates sailing through the air.


Today, Patrick Munduga (spelling) and Denielle from Invisible Children came up to ask the Head Teacher and the teachers how IC is doing, and what they can be doing better. After several exchanges of thank yous, (IC has done quite a bit at PoPaViSSA) and deserves the accolades with many new buildings. 2 school buildings last year, have turned into 10 this year. The head teacher asked for one more comment, and then told the gathering, we will let John give the final speech. The formality in the Ugandan class room is very specific, and there are many speeches at a faculty meeting like this.

This being Africa, I am starting to be ready for impromptu speeches....(SIDE NOTE: I HAVE JUST RETREATED TO THE SAFETY OF MY BED, AS THE MOSQUITOES WERE TAKING MORE BLOOD FROM ME THAN THE RED CROSS ALLOWS!!)

Here to the best of my recollection is that speech. "First of all, I want to thank everyone in this room for the kindness that has been extended to me and my fellow teachers over the last 24 hours. In a short time you have treated us like family and we appreciate your kindness.

Our colleague that died in the bombing, worked hard to spread the message of your students and your schools to American students. Because, he and his colleagues were so successful, we can see in the new buildings and the classrooms the real extent of their efforts.

Most of us in Invisible Children have joined this organization because we detest violence. It is not an answer, and not a solution. We are teachers, so we teach kindness, and love and understanding. And that is what we have seen from our Ugandan counterparts. You have shown us a great kindness and a great gentleness. Here, I speak for myself, but I think my fellow teachers will agree that this attack of violence does not weaken our resolve, but it strengthens us. I want to do even more now, because I do not want to live in a world, where violence wins. We are teachers and we will continue to do what we do best-- we will teach. We will teach kindness and love and understanding. It is knowledge of the world and others that breaks down hate, and in the end, I believe we will win.. This battle will not be won by soldiers it will be won by teachers.

I also want to say that when I see the Pope Paul VI students that they have the same determination and drive that American students have. They pursue...they pursue knowledge and dream about their future. So it is our duty, that we MUST not let this determination and drive be wasted. We must do our very best for these students. This is the path we have chosen, everyone in this room is a teacher, and we must continue on this path.

I am so impressed with these students, that I will end this way. In 2030, I expect to turn on the NBC Nightly News and hear that they have just elected a new president in Uganda and I will say, "Hey, I taught her when she was a student at Pope Paul VI in Anaka."

So today was a good day, I had two different help sessions with only a handful of students each time. I really felt I was helping those students with their mathematics.


John

Answering Hate with Love, Answering Intolerance with Education.

This morning 2 bombs were set off in Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. I am in a remote village, 6 hours away, and all the teachers are safe and will continue to be safe. The gentleness and kindness we have received from the people in Anaka and Pope Paul VI school has been amazing. 64 people were killed in these bombings...

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/07/11/AR2010071102834.html

Included in the deceased was a young man, Nate Henn, who I do not believe I had the pleasure of meeting. He was a dedicated roadie for Invisible Children. The roadies are amazing people who put their lives on hold for 3 months, 6 months, or sometimes more than a year to spread the word about how Americans and American high school students can help the students of northern Uganda. Becky Dale, Nerinx Hall alum, is one of those amazing people. I found out later today that Becky had known Nathan and they were friends and believers in the same dream.

Nate had made such good friends with Ugandans that he had met while touring America that he had come to Uganda early to reconnect with those friends. It was doing what friends do, watching the World Cup, that put Nate in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is also tragically ironic that Nate who worked hard to end the violence and hate in Northern Uganda was killed by a different group of violence and hate. If you want to read who Nate was....here is a link to the Invisible children site.

http://blog.invisiblechildren.com/2010/07/in-loving-memory-of-nate-oteka-henn/

I also ask your prayers for the other 60 plus people who died in this senseless act of violence. It may be easy when we see such destruction and mayhem that we give up or become pessimistic about our world.

I also ask your prayers for all those inside the Invisible Children organization, this is a tightly knit community, and my fellow teacher, Colleen Dougherty, knew Nate, and was close friends with his sister, and many of his friends. I have nicknamed Colleen, Sunshine and Smiles, because that is exactly who she is Sunshine and Smiles---she is a wonderful teacher that brings energy and love to everyone she encounters. I cannot tell you how many times she has made me smile or laugh. It is literally over 100 in a short two weeks. It saddens me that one so giving and loving is sad today.

.....
But today my day begin entirely different than the violence and mayhem of the city of Kampala. My day began with 8 villagers of Anaka in a small, beautiful church at 630 am Mass. The Mass was concelebrated by Father Leonsyo and Father Martin, my 2 new friends, and they were joined on the altar by Deacon James who will be ordained the day we leave Anaka. The Mass started a little late, as the World Cup did not end until after midnight here, and even the Priests are fans. LOL! A few minutes into the Mass, a small boy of about 6 came into church by himself. He dutifully blessed himself with Holy Water and found a space in the church. He, like most under the age of 13, had no shoes, and was clad in a simple shirt and shorts, his primary school uniform.

Mass was in Lwo, so it is sometimes hard to follow, but Father Leonsyo's voice, his peace, his calm, and his LOVE come out loud in any language. The other night, his cell phone rang as he was with Kelley Moneymaker and myself. "Can I Love this one he asked?", to Kelley and I. "To answer, and to listen is to LOVE, is it not?" He said.

Today, I will pray some more and pray a lot. And I will pray that the world will see the future in the 3 generations I saw today. I do not know who each of you will identify with the small boy, Colleen who so much wants to give good to the world, or the gentle Love of a Parish priest. But one or maybe all of those three will continue the work of Nate Henn, and I remain convinced that LOVE in the end will triumph.

How can it not?

John

p.s. Do not worry about me, I will see you all in August. and know that I love each of you so, so much. I am a teacher, and I am here teaching.....

2 Shining Stars....

Some of you may remember how disappointed I was when I heard that due to a student strike that we were not going to be sending teachers to Atanga SS. Today, we had a conference of all the schools, specifically to talk about KOBS. KOBS is an emotional literacy class that all Invisible Children schools are in various stages of implementing. When the speaker of the seminar showed a slide that showed a not insignificant percentage of the students surveyed had seen houses set afire with people in them, then maybe something else has to happen in the lives of these students before we can teach them how to simplify the square root of 8.

The KOBS program seems to be a step in the right direction. I believe any student cannot learn without feeling good about themselves, and understanding how truly remarkable they are. The KOBS program works to get traumatized students understanding what has happened in their lives and how to understand and manage the pain, but still move on.


Later in the day, when I saw Jacob from the Rough Cut on the street, he again turned his Reds cap backwards, so the big C was not obvious. If so much can happen in Jacob's life to move him in such a powerful direction, and he is such a smiling and happy young man, then there is hope for all of the students affected by the conflict.



-----

In the early morning beginning of the conference, I was greeted by two warm handshakes and two familiar voices. Ocwa Alfred Jackson and Obonyo Sam had come down to the conference from Atanga. They were crushed and terribly disappointed that Atanga was not getting American teachers this year. They had both worked so hard for their students and both worked so hard to suppport Invisible that I feel in some way, I have let them down. In the wave of the violence at the school, and thinking of the safety concerns for our teachers. I think the decision not to send to Atanga SS this year was probably the correct one.....Yet from their voices I heard two men talk about their school, imploring me that the school was never shut down...that there were working hard to make sure that students were continuing to study throughout all the chaos.

I am not sure what exactly has happened at Atanga, or at least I am not going to share it on record, but the bottom line is this...maybe one man let the school down.

What would you do, as a young student who saw your one shot at a future drift away due to the actions of an adult who should know better. Reacting with violence is never the answer, but then again what happens to a dream destroyed? what happens to a dream deferred?

And through it all, these two teachers Sam and Alfred were doing their very best for their students. Making sure that the school did not close, and making sure students who showed up were given instruction, were given knowledge, study sessions for their placement exams continued......

And what about the students who did not participate in the violence, who just want to move forward and conquer each year, and each subject in stride, what happens to them? I know some of my words here might be confusing to you, and I will have to fill in more details when I get home.....but it is amazing how many good people here are doing their very best to triumph through all these adversities and obstacles......

The bottom line is that there are no Teacher Exchange Teachers at Atanga SS, this year and this hurts everyone. The students and teachers of Atanga, who are doing amazing work, the American teachers that did not get a chance to see Atanga SS, and my two friends Alfred and Sam who care so much....


I have decided I am skipping the Safari to visit the teachers and students at Atanga SS....Hopefully, I can let them all know that they are not forgotten and there is still hope....

Mass, God, and god

Kelley and I got up at 6 am to walk up for Mass with Father Leonsyo. It was wonderful, we walked through the dark to get to Mass, and saw small children with remnants of down coats to ward off the morning chill.

Mass was entirely in Lwo, and there were all generations there, and music was provided by the small home made harp. I have pictures, but right now very little battery time left. So I will flush this out later.

After Mass, we went to Morning Parade (Assembly) where the students stand and listen to the several teachers talk about how the school and their school life could be better. I looked at a few things in the staff room, came home to a broken toilet where I had to implement a flushing system, then lit an old Post-Dispatch on fire to cover the smell...

Our wash was done, but it still was a little damp, so I start rehanging it on the line. I was soon greeted by the sound on the other side of our house of about 60 students slashing the grass by hand. This was not punishment, but rather a way to welcome the Americans, but I would much rather see tall grass and students in classes. As the student teacher was calling students names to stop, because he felt they were working, a small feisty student questioned his authority. The student teacher replied, "I am God." The student replied, "You are god with a small g."

I am going to have to get to know this student. His impatience with the task at hand, and his feistiness, makes me believe that there is a lot there.....

John

Father Leonsyo

A real significant reason, I came back this year was to visit the village of Anaka. I had heard such amazing stories about the parish Priests that the 5 teachers had stayed with last year. Kelley had even told me more as we prepared to become teachers at Pope Paul VI in Anaka.

Both priests were out of town, so we did not get to meet them until.....

Kelley was antsy all night, as she could not wait until her friend from last year, Father Leonsyo would be returning to Anaka from Gulu via Italy for 3 months. She kept checking her phone for messages and the time, and after dinner questioned how long the drive from Gulu to Anaka would take.

Finally, I suggested we just walk up to the parish anyway. The start was interesting as I had not walked to the Church in the dark yet. Kelley, the warrior, plowed ahead, and I was just keeping up, doing my best to pay attention in case I had to find my way back for some reason. As we walked, we past about 20 students and villagers, while we had the latest in lights and headlamps all of the locals managed this path with ease in the dark.

We got to the parish center, and soon found Father Leonsyo sitting on a chair in the dark with a large group of people around him. Of course, we were given the chairs right next to Father Leonsyo. I accepted, but wondered how this could be right. Why should I be seated next to the Priest, when so many had known him for so much longer, and had made a special trip to greet him home, after his extended stay in Italy.

Immediately, in front of me, I could see that there was a group of children probably 30 or 40, almost all less than 10... smiling at the Priest. It was amazing just to sit in this gathering. In that moment, I was in a place of such grace. After I made some waving, greeting hand gestures at the boys, one young man of about 5 years old, came up from the third row, approached me and shook my hand. The boy showed great courage, while the other young boys stared at the large white man. I felt so blessed to be in this gentle, quiet place with the people of Anaka.

I will write more about Father Leonsyo later, but I will end with his words, "Isn't that what Love is, to be humble to others, to put others before you."

Today I sat amongst Saints,

John