Last Night in Uganda

There are so many stories of courage and perserverance that have rushed to my eyese this trip and now run around inside of my head and will always be nestled warmly in my heart. This time and for the last few times it starts with Kwoyelo Ronald. "Kwoyelo" means troubled life. It was the name his parents gave him at birth, and has aptly described the obstacles that Ronald has fought and won. He is a determined and serious student who greeted me each time I met him wearing a shirt and tie. He will be taking his Senior 6 exams in November which will be the sole determination of whether he goes to the University level and what kind of education he will be allowed to attain. Ronald sees in his current classmates the educational experiences he would have loved to have had. And he knows his first 11 years of education in a small village have not prepared him, but he just puts his head down and works harder. His mother and Uncle greeted me in my last hour in Lacekocot and wanted to join me in a feast they had prepared for me. Due to time, I regretfully had to explain why I had to turn down their generosity. As I looked into the weathered face of Ronald's mom, I saw his smile and his quiet determination in her eyes. I know Ronald well, but not nearly as well I would know my Nerinx students. I do know that there are many students both young men and young women with similar stories, and someone told me last night that it was not fair to help just one. She may be right, but it is not possible for me to sit back. I have not had a teaching job for a year, because I cannot be silent when I see injustice.------------------live simply, so others may simply live-------------------------My assets are small and the bank of Magee makes Greece look stable, but I have walked around Ugandan often carrying the equivalent of two months pay for many Ugandans. It is simply unfathomable to try to understand these differences. My young friend, Geoffrey, who has been on his own since he was 7, was about to be kicked out of the room he lets when he is not boarding at the school. He has never asked me for anything but a pen and a few sheets of paper. He told me this story. He needed one month for back rent and one month's rent. The total cost was less than what I am going to pay for King Edward's chicken in my first meal in St. Louis. I had one final meal with Geoffrey and Julius before I left. There was a photo studio (Glamour Fotos) along the way and we stopped to get our photo taken. On the way home from the Pork Joint we picked up the photos. As I said goodbye to the two boys, Geoffrey reached out and hugged me. I realized or realised as they spell here, that what Geoffrey has missed all of these years the most was not food or shelter, but hugs. There is nothing quite like the constant hugs of family. It is the fuel for the heart, and if our heart is full we are capable of anything. And if our heart is empty....... Both Geoffrey and Julius showed up for my traditional salute to the leaving teachers. In the hectic end to packing and loading the bus, and trying to organize the bus. I forgot to hug Geoffrey. ........(go to Facebook for pictures of Geoffrey and Julius)

In homage of Memento.... Sort of

I am now siting at the Acholi Inn for about the fourth time in two days. I got here through the rain and the mud. We had a brief downpour which really messes with the roads and the ability to walk. Gulu is also on one big hill so all of the water from the whole town flows towards Uchumi store and the bottom of the hill. But I managed with the help of a crafty boda boda driver. I just left Ronald at the bus station, he has completed his second term and now heads back to Lacekocot for a much deserved rest. Ronald, of course, showed up in a tie, and his green sweater vest from Sir Samuel Baker School. We talked some, ate at my favorite place, Alulululu Pork joint, and we talked a little. Ronald is such an amazing young man, and several of us have pushed him along the way with some fees paid here and there. It tears me up that I cannot help every student, but we are trying for Ronald to be the one starfish we choose to throw back in this ocean. I will have to write more of his story later, his is the big story of this trip and I have to think longer to give it justice. ............ But there has been so much WONDER in these days that I have to keep writing. ---> http://simplyliveit.wordpress.com/2012/08/01/simply-believe-in-wonder/ ..............I met Ronald after I took a boda boda on the hilliest ride back from Sacred Heart. The motorcycle was whining on several occasions as moving the large American proved difficult for this bike. I had not seen Sacred Heart in several years, the students have always been amazing, but now the landscape and buildings were also. Some were built by the Japanese government, but the large three story building was built by Invisible Children. I had just visited thanks to an invitation from Ashley, who charges through life smiling and laughing along the way. No teacher college or training tells you how to develop the spirit or the kindness of this one. Each moment she was on campus, students walked towards her with a curiosity and an inquisitiveness. I think it might be impossible for a young girl at an all girls' school not to learn or be moved by Ashley's smile or her openness. I watched as one student approached her and gave her a necklace that she had made for her wonderful teacher. Rachel and Meegan, the proud Canadian, joined Ashley and I on my tour of Sacred Heart. I once said that everyone wants to be tall, curly-haired and left handed. Rachel rocks 2 out of 3 of those and laughs out loud about every 11 minutes. In her free time, she is amazing science teacher in Ohio. Meegan charges through life like she is going to mountain bike from Vancouver to Alaska(and after reading this she might just try). They are joined at Sacred Heart by Debbie. If you want to know more about the amazing students of Sacred Heart scroll down to a post in July 2009. (Those 10 and this school remains lodged in my awesome memories) Wonderful students in uniform who smile while they walk and are amazing learners. I thought for a moment in one Sacred Heart student, I saw the smile of Claire Minnick, and I thought definitely I heard the laughter of Amy Welin in another, and then I saw one quickly move for building to building very serious about completing the next task--did she really have the walk of Hayley Kuehner? And then I realized the uniforms were red and I saw a skinny girl laugh out loud exactly like Chaley Poth. I wanted to take so many pictures, but I decided to take a picture of the three teachers at the base of a statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It seemed like such a good place to start. ..................... And then I turned, "Is that the Chapel?". "Yes it is, there is almost always girls in there praying." said one of my friends. But I did not really hear, I walked towards the Chapel. I saw the most wonderful sign in the center of the Chapel (see Facebook) and moved inside. There was a lone student at the front right of the place, holding a large bass drum of some sorts and playing both sides of it as she sang. Her voice was soft and amazing. Songs to God have such a beauty to them, but this one was better. [TIME OUT-- You all should really read Sarah Allen's wonderful blog above]. My best wish for all of you is that I you are in awe when you see wonder. The school bell for the next class rang and the young girl stopped the drum and sang the last verses a Capella. I had planned to kneel in this Chapel and say a Hail Mary for my parents, but instead I just knelt and thanked God for this blessing, hearing this song was amazing................................. Down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere in the northern part of Uganda, I heard an Angel sing. You may never know, Sarah Girl, where you will see wonder, sometimes it comes from accepting an invitation from a very small animal.

Caring and Responsibilty

The other day at Rhino trek, 11 of us had a discussion with the question: Which 3 people living or dead have influenced you the most. I think an obvious choice is our parents, but for the sake lof the discussion I chose 3 people who have moved me Tao the man I am. They were Father Gregory Boyle (google his book if you have note read it)Phil Williams, and Mary Bryant ( she is the young woman who died in a car accident whose dream we follow each June when we do service at Back Bahy Mision in MS). Tonight I am in Anaka staying at the parish Keith Fathers Martin and Thomas and 3 fantastic colleagues. Today I met a young man who might answer the question of the 3 people with John Magee, John Magee, and John Magee. What do you do with this? I care about this young man deeply. He has been a part of 4 or 5 of my summers in Uganda. I knew him in Gulu and then when I arrived at Pope Paul VI in 2010, he was going to school here as an S4 student. This young man did his best to show me his ability inside and outside of class, but he struggled with the S4 mathematics. I would see him at night and sometimess we would walk to the village and sometimes I was not able to, because I had commitments to others or my school work. There were probably also a few times where I was just too lazy or too selfish to spend time with my young friend. Because of a cheaper ride home, my 2 day stay in Amaka is ending earlier. I had a wonderful day seeing and listening to a wonderful head teacher and at least 17 teaching colleagues from Popavissa. My partner Lawrence had this student's phone number and also new that he worked at the new and only Petrol station in Anaka. I called him and he greeted me with excitement and joy. I could feel the width of his smile through the phone. We both wanted to see each other and made plans for me to go to the gas station at 4. I found out later that he was working until dark, so the choice of 4 made me curious, but not for long. I walked out of Popavissa and made a left turn, a few minutes later I was at the main road and stopped for a moment at the sign for the school. I am so proud of this schol and I remember Kelly Moneymaker and I walking this road 2 years ago to get a picture next to this sign. But this post is not about that day, I made a right on the road and continued to the Petrol Station. It has one pump that dispenses gas, diesel,and kerosene. I walked onto the station from the road and saw this boy,this man from a distance. He looked very smart in his PPP logo shirt and coveralls. He turned and saw me and walked towards me with open arms. He might have broken my back with his hug, but we settled on the international guy half hug, hand shake. He was still grinning as he went inside the office and brought out a padded chair for me to sit on. He smiled at me again and grabbed my shoulder as I reached out to shake his hand again. He went into get another chair for himself when he Realized he could be closer to me if he sat. As he went inside, and old man with a weathered face, moved from sitting next to his broken down truck to a place right behind us. I am not sure if he understood what was happening, but he wanted a seat closer to the attendant and the large white man. As he settled into his own chair, a motorcycle approached. I was going to encourage him to take care of his customer, but he and the man quickly began talking in Lwo. I soon realized that this man had a camera with him and he was aiming his camera at the both of us. It was now apparent that my young friend had called a photographer from Anaka to take a picture of this momentous occasion. We took a picture in ur chairs, and then He instructed the photographer to find another scene where he could take another picture. As the photographer left he said to me, "I have been asking Almighty God for 2 years for Him To send you back to me.". He the told me that I was responsible for who he was. And everything good in his life had come from me........................What do you do with that?.......................I think the Petrol Station is a good place for him. I talked to him about being a good worker and always being kind and courteous to his customers. We took some more pictures and he went back to work. I walked to Pope Paul VI and entreated the real Pope Paul to look after this one. I found out later that the walk or transport to his family's village does not happen after dark, so he rents a small room in town, but it is expensive for him (about $10 a month). He came to the Parish after his shift and was greeted warmly by both Fathers. .......... I guess in the end that is what I have chosen to do. I will love. It might be from afar, and I might not seem him for a couple of years or maybe again. But I am choosing love. I think that is what Father Boyle would do, Phil would hug him and soon the two would be laughing like old friends, and Mary would put him to work in Mississippi. .... And after reading this post, my mother and father will pray for him at Mass in St. Louis....maybe the next time I answer the question about the three people-- I will say his name Odong Collins Otika, because maybe he has been the one who has made me my best.....

Final Paragraph from My IC Reflections

The success with students is really not to be known. I hope I planted the seeds that will one day grow. I hope I have given wind to the sails of their dreams. I hope they have seen in me, a man that cares and a man that loves. I hope they never answer any question or problem with violence. I hope my example has been one that will be productive for them in their later life. I may never know if I had this success, but I do know one thing. I am a better teacher and a better man, but what I have learned from the students of Atanga SS. and Nerinx Hall and Loyola Academy and Saint Louis Priory School

IPod and Memories

Josh Franklin requested on the way to Entebbe airport that we play "Waving Flag" by K'naan. It was the World Cup theme song for 2010 and is a song we can play that both Ugandans and Americans will both smile and sing together. I grabbed my Ugandan flag out of the bag and let the air blowing through the bus, let it wave. Later, Caroline up front grabbed one end and all 13 of us were laughing, singing, and raising our fists. "When I get older, I will be stronger, They'll call me freedom just like da waving flag.". What a great time, and what a great memory that song evokes. As the four of us got off the bus after the airport, I had the feeling that I had left something behind. I started to think about going back on the bus, but just that quick it had pulled away. Four hours later as we sat done to wait for our transport back to Gulu, I went through everything in both bags and there was no iPod. Damn! I was mad at myself for not being more careful with an expensive possession that I enjoy. Thr black U2 iPod has been so much a part of some of my favorite memories in the last year. When I said I had lost it on Facebook, Jill Baranowski said, "Nooooooooooo" , because she had been a part of those memories singing at the top of her lungs going from place to place in Biloxi. At the same time I was kind of calm. I put an obituary for this thing on Facebook, and started to think how I would get those songs back---those memories. Sarah Williams had told me I should take a picture of Phil with me on this trip. it is something I intended to do, but in the time crunch of back to back trips, it never got done. As other teachers grabbed my iPod to play music, it was amazing how many times they played Golddigger. Also I heard "Golddigger" at the club, three times on this trip. (side note: when I first heard Golddigger, I thought they were saying "John Magee" instead of "friend in need". My students then sang me that song, singing my name over and over. Phil Williams heard they story, laughed, and proceeded to serenade me with a chorus or two every time he saw me, laughing and grinning every time). Apparently, I did not need the picture, it seems Phil and those wonderful memories have been here with me in Africa all of the time. Just now I remembered I found an American dime on the way. T the Acholi Inn in the second week. Every single time, I hear "The World's Greatest", 8 think of Stephone Cotton singing it in an Aim High talent show and the curtain opening and twenty fifth graders singing the chorus. "One" sung by Mary J. Blige and U 2 reminds me instantly about the many students who have touched my heart and made me laugh. All the great songs of Paddy O's in 2006 have been renamed with Cardinal highlights and each one is special. "Have Seen All Good People". Reminds me always of four big idiots driving through the Colorado mountains. Each of the hundreds of songs remind me of one of you. The iPod may be gone, but I will always have the memories, much like Miranda Lambert sings in "The House that Built Me.". Which is on my iPod and reminds me of Celia Marten and how much dads love their daughters. "If I could just come in, I'll swear I'll leave, won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me. You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can. I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am." I think we all sometimes get lost in this whole world, and when we do maybe should just surround ourselves in memories. Long distance phone call to mom to get prayers to St. Anthony started. Three hours later, and I found my iPod in a story where three things had to happen, of course. I was ecstatic to get it back, but after writing this I just realized I did not need it. What it contains, I already have, and can only lose if I forget the house that built me.

Friendships

I saw a lot of good friends have a tough morning today. So many in this teacher group have invested so much into friendships and relationships with Ugandans they did not know 2 months ago. They were amazing in developing the kinship that Father Boyle talks about. They went to villages, ate meals, and soaked in the Acholi culture. There are several Ugandans who will never forget these Americans, my friends. And this experience for the Americans will be unforgettable, they have invested with their hearts and when we do that bonds tend to last. Friendships made brick by brick last forever, especially when we take the time to place each brick with so much care. Today as we gathered on the bus,there were hugs and many tears between our new friends. It gets more complicated as the American contingent is thrown together in close and accelerated friendships themselves. I would call several of my new teacher friends --close friends already. And now when we are broken hearted about leaving good Ugandans, we will in just two days also come to the realization that we are losing each other. I have been there before you clear customs at JFK and all of a sudden it is over. Because of time and distance it is inevitable that the closeness and greatness of many of these friendships will fade. But that last line is crap. It is what we tell each other when all of this could last if we cared enough to put the effort into working and loving the people in our lives. We jump into a new book or start working on our garden or countless other things that are far so less significant than these wonderful people that we let fall away. When I worked at Nerinx, I thought several of my colleagues were friends. Yet several of my friends still have not picked up a phone or even a Facebook mention to inquire about how I am doing. A year plus later and not a word. That hurt. As soon aa I write this sentence, I realize the inconsistency of my post. If these friendships mattered to me, why don't I do something myself to resurrect or renew these friendships. It is defintely on my agenda for when I get back. I told Josh and Sarah tonight that the one thing about this group that I will share is that I have been closer to who I think I am with this group. Isn't that what friends do? They revel and enjoy exactly who you are. So most of you reading this are family or friends, and as it gets close to midnight sitting in an outdoor bar perched 90 feet above the Nile, I promise to try better and love more ardently the things about you that I already love. And for this group of teachers who are now sleeping soundly in their beds, I am going to work had to make sure you stay in my life.....so sorry you have many,many, many, many bad jokes in your future.

Molly Milford -- Rock Star

I am collecting some letters from Ugandan students at Atanga SS. The main reason I am collecting them is the students of Atanga SS sent letters to Nerinx Hall last year, and they never got to the Nerinx students (sometimes, sometimes, sometimes). I heard from Alfred that not hearing back from these students was a real disappointment to Atanga students. Today I got to understand why, the wonderful girls of our Share Kindness trip sent wonderful cards to Atanga SS, and those girls will be getting a letter back. Rest assured I have more if you are interested. But in trying to make sure everyone was happy, I have a list of those Biloxi people combined with a Ugandan student or two. As the Atanga student returns a letter I take a picture of them, write down the photo number, and hopefully will deliver both a letter and picture to you people in St. Louis. As this process happens, often students gather in groups of ten or twelve surrounding me to see what is happening. Today, it was marvelous as they looked at the list. I do not know why, but a dozen were fixated on the name Molly Milford. There were all trying to say it and pronounce it, and it did not help that my handwriting was sloppy. Molly Milford was all of a sudden the Katy Perry of Atanga SS. She was their dream, and I would like to know what they thought Molly’s life was like, but they just stood their enamored with the name. Several of them were writing it on scraps of paper, as others were pronouncing it Mitford, Miltord, and finally I told them Milford. They repeated the name and giggled. They were this close to meeting their star and they now knew her name. They immediately looked down and one asked, “Sir, what can you tell us about this one, Hannah Graft.” (again my handwriting). I corrected them on the name and then quickly changed the subject as the next name was Pahic, and I did not want to even start on that one. ………….. Do you realize in many of the world’s eyes we are living the dream? We are the people they aspire to be. It is humbling, and should be humbling to all of us. But also their laughter makes me realize our common humanity and we are this close to being a part of each other’s lives. It just takes some effort to reach out and embrace all the people we share our world with. Rachel Hansen took the ties of her sweater and made a funny face after Mass in Jackson at the beginning of the June, and 40 different Ugandans looked at the picture to try to figure out its meaning. They were not too satisfied with my “she was just being silly”. {Oh my God, two great things just happened as I was interrupted by Isaac. One, I finally got to talk to Leonsyo, first time since Sunday, he has been concerned about me for 3 days. And Two, Alfred walked into the dark with the brother of Ronald Kwoyelo, and we have a 10 minute meeting set up for tomorrow. So much has happened, I have not even told you the story of seeing Ronald on Sunday.} So I just want to remind us all, the princesses and the rock stars of our world, that we have a calling to reach out and let those who dream about us, know that their dreams and aspirations are real also. One American cheering for One Ugandan or One Haitian or One Nicaraguan can change the life of someone. What happens to a dream deferred? Sometimes it is put back on track by the simplest of intentions, the simple kindness between Emily Mancuso and Ocwa Alfred Jackson, the hospitality that Mary Grace Barry gave to Okaali John, the letter you wrote…. The picture you shared. I hope someday to have a party where 40 of my favorite Ugandans meet 40 of my favorite Americans and Nina Zanaboni brings 40 people from Nicaragua and Caitlyn Weir knows half of them, and of course in the background Mrs. Fields and Hayley Hunter or sharing a quiet laugh, and Mrs. Nguyen has 8 students around her mesmerized by her simple smile and kindness. It all starts with kindness and then we progress, we discover that boundless compassion that stands in awe of the burdens the world has to carry not in judgment of how they carry them. (Aside to the Biloxi Girls, today I used the hand, this is the best thing you have ever done, etc….) To those of you who have exceeded my expectations, it is quite simple thing. Is it not? The best thing you have ever done in your life is to love. Go do it tomorrow, find someone to love. (And then click on the comment section and tell me about it.)

we have to condemn violence---always

“It is with a heavy heart and sadness in my voice, that I talk to you today…..”, began my words today as I addressed the entire student body of Atanga SS. When I arrived at Atanga today, I was not thinking this would be the blog post tonight. I was already to write Part III of journey to Pajuule, but then again things change. I still my write that, a lot of funny stuff, I still have not even gotten to. But………….. Because the Safari got in late last night, we spent the night in Gulu, and were prepared to come to Atanga by morning tea. I thought there was a lesson to teach after morning tea, but it turned out it was a Senior 4 lesson that is not happening due to their extended mock examinations. So what to do all day, it was sure to be a boring day with not much to do. I saw the students start to gather in the grass, and asked my partner teacher if I could listen. It was great, they were dividing all of the students in between the teachers, as the beginning of a mentoring program. I wish this wasn’t happening the last week, as it would have been fun to have had an Ugandan advisory group. Those students who were in my Advisory groups at Priory, Loyola, and Nerinx will always have an extra place in my heart. The names were read with some humor and the students groaned and laughed as each teacher was announced—pretty typical stuff. The teacher announcing it referred to his group as “my sons and daughters” and it looked like the whole thing was the planning and idea of my partner teacher, Okidi Polycarp. What a great thing, and done right could have a real influence on students who needed guidance in the village that sometimes struggles. After all the names were read, I saw a seat open up, but was not quick enough to get there, so I sat on a bench. The students were encouraged not to leave, because there was “a ceremony, some program to follow”. There were two village people at the ceremony in chairs to my left. When a teacher got up to speak, I took his chair next to these two as I feared the bench would break due to my size. The speeches to the students were often in Lwo, which is more common in this school, then schools in Gulu. I could tell that a couple of students were in trouble, but I did not know what for. There had been a meeting last week, where the school was trying to mediate with the village, some punishment for students who had stolen crops, and had been caught by the villagers. The student in front of me was instructed to lay on his belly full extended, and now I realized that just 15 feet from me, this student was going to be caned in front of the entire student body. The behavior of the student body was slightly troubling, as jokes made in Lwo, I assume at the expense of the thief, made them all laugh and smile. I was still hoping maybe this could be just an empty threat, but it was not to be. A female teacher placed 4 green rods about an ½ inch to an inch thick right near the boy. Speeches and words continued in Lwo to the students. The boy on the ground stared at me without expression, and I stared back not knowing what to do. The speeches were soon over, and a teacher and a friend picked through the sticks to find the right one, he hiked up the boys pants an inch or two to make sure they covered his waist, and dealt a hard blow to the boy’s buttocks. The uniform pants are thin, and the boy reacted in obvious pain, as the teacher, my friend, and a good teacher readied another blow. Each blow had two reactions from the student, a wince before it landed, and pain, crushing pain when it did. The assembled students reacted differently, but many laughed. Four blows were struck, and the student was instructed to move on. I had thought about just walking away, I felt since my chair was one of three right there, it felt like I was a Roman Emperor advocating the punishment. I wished I had stayed on the bench! I did not look at the reactions of the villagers, who it turned out were the parents of the two offenders. The mother of the one had said in Lwo, she was not strong enough to deliver the blows, so she wanted the teacher to do it. Another speech might have been made in Lwo, I do not know. I was trying to find a different place to go in my head. Another boy was led to the front of the seated assembly and also received 4 blows from the hand of my teacher and my friend. Another teacher got up and addressed the students about not engaging in behavior that would warrant these blows. Caning is supposed to be forbidden by the government, but it happens, and happens more in the village schools and villages. I had seen it before, but not in this public arena of shaming. The boy who was caned first was on his second or third caning from this offense. I then thought about reading Jonathan Kozol’s book and remembering his story about him being encouraged to pick out a paddle at the teacher supply store in the mid – 60’s. I thought about what Father Boyle has to say about violence and how it crushes the soul of the young. As there was a break in speeches, I asked the head teacher if I could address the students. I thought it was time to preach my beliefs. I did not know how the teachers and administration would react. I have tended to underestimate this reaction to my criticisms in my most recent past. He said yes. I was prepared to resign from Atanga, and leave the Invisible Children program if necessary. I did not want to be disrespectful to their culture or their efforts. But, I had to do something…………The students roared with laughter and approval, as I stood up, what better way to keep this carnival going then to hear from the giant American. I stood there silent for about 30 seconds, and told them I was waiting for quiet, and began, “It is with a heavy heart and sadness in my voice, that I talk to you today. I have loved Atanga SS, you students are amazing and the teachers and my colleagues are amazing. I have respect for all of you, and I hope my words are not disrespectful. I have enjoyed working with Invisible Children and its amazing program. ….. “ If might is right, and we allow violence to win, then love has no place in our world. And I believe in all of my teaching that love does have a place in our schools.” I went on to say more words, careful to use words to condemn the caning without condemning individuals or the culture. I said to the students, “When you laugh at the sorrow and the suffering of your classmates, I believe you have lost something important inside of yourself. I believe we have all lost something important.” I don’t remember what else I said other than my words were brief. In my language and my accent, my words may not have been understood by many of the students. The head teacher then talked in Lwo for 10 minutes or so. I later learned that he told the students that I was serious and my heart was broken by what I saw. He was disappointed that the misdeeds of these students had embarrassed the school. Then, the head teacher returned to English, and began thanking Isaac and me for our service to the school. He mentioned that we would be there until Thursday of this week, so I surmised that my words had not caused my dismissal. It was a strange juxtaposition, and another surprise. I talked to several teachers, and they understood I was not happy or agreed with the practice of caning. I talked to my friend and told him that all of my success as a teacher, had happened because my students know that I cared about them, and by being the hand of violence, it may hurt who he was as a teacher. Isaac and I were invited to Alfred’s for dinner and talked some more about the day. I know I am a strange man in a strange land, and to me to talk to the Ugandans about the hardships of violence was like …… well no words come, but I do not feel qualified to lecture when they have suffered so much by such brutality of the war for the last two decades. It was good to be in the small sitting room of my friend Alfred enjoying a meal cooked wonderfully by his wife. Watching him hug his youngest, and being very gentle with Mercy the small girl, I ended the night seeing love. And as I reflect on a couple of long days, I am going to pray tonight for both of the thieves that somewhere, somehow before the rainy season ends that they feel love from someone in a small village in northern Uganda called Lacekocot.

Going to Pajuule Part II

I AM WORRIED ABOUT LOSING MY WORK....go read part I first below -----------------------____________________________________________________________________ Okay so I had made the wrong choice of seats and was getting bounced around in the Ugandan night, but slowly we made progress and were soon at Lacekocot. Now maybe only an hour or so away, we kept getting closer and then in an attempt to avoid a pothole, Leoonsyo drove off the road and got stuck in thick mud on the side of the road. He tried to get out, but was unsuccessful, and in his final push the battery died. Leonsyo had talked about the expense of the battery when he had gotten in the car. The three of us pushed in different ways but did not have enough fire power to get it out of the mud. Leonsyo told Francis they would go find some people and they disappeared into the night. So there I was somewhere in between Acholibur (pronounce Acholi Boo) and Pajuule. By myself, I wondered where the lions were (this is a joke mom, there are no lions in Pajuule. The stars were out and it was a beautiful night, if you did not consider our predicament. I had not been able to eat any of my food, so I got the food out of the car and had a nice dinner on the hood by myself. I thought I kept hearing them return, but eventually they did. It was now 1240 about 40 minutes after we got stuck. I found out later that had gathered some boys from a school, but soon found a "bar" where the encourage the drinker to become our helpers. I had thought the 3 of us were close to getting it out, so I expected our replenished numbers to do the trick easily. I was wrong! We struggled and struggled, and were finally able to push it back about 5 feet. I wanted to keep pushing it back, but was overruled and we tried to push it forward to get it back on the road. We tried several times to start the car, the headlights were on! I really wanted Andy Bouerneuf there so he could bang on the solenoid valve and we would be off. I did bang on several things, but they did not work. Leonsyo was worried about the battery dying, but I told him no problem it was a brand new battery. He said no that he had bought a used battery! We started chopping down trees with the super hoe they use to do everything. We also used the Panga( a machete that was of course under my feet the entire trip) to chop off some shrubbery. We had many sticks under the tires, but to no avail. After each failed attempt that was a lot of conversation in Lwo that I, of course, did not understand. One of the helpers said, "Do not worry John, we are not going to let you sleep here." We decided rocks were needed to get under the wheels and all but 3 of us disappeared into the night to find rocks. Francis and one of the guys that stayed did an amazing job of digging out the entire road to make a track for the car. They came back with rocks and decided they were too big, so they chopped them into smaller rocks with the deft and strong swing of the hoe. Again no success! Somewhere in here I got a text message even though I most times could not get a signal. I was excited, help was texting. It was only later that I realized that anyone texting me could not help me. "Cards lose with walk off homer in the 10th" was the message from Dad. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!!!! It was now past 2 am and it had been since midnight when we slid and we had not seen 1 car on the road. We continued to work, but nothing and then wait a minute we were on the main part of the road. There was celebration but not by me, as I realized we would still have to pop start this car on the road. I do not think I had pop started a car since 1985 or later. If you do not know what pop starting a car is --- you push as hard as you can, you have to get some real speed up, and then the driver throws it into gear and hopefully the car starts without using the starter or the battery. We got it going pretty good, but Leonsyo failed twice, and then I realized we were pushing it uphill. Seriously, isn't God supposed to be watching out for his Priests. I decided although we could not get speed up we should still push it up the hill, so we could do something the other way. Guess what we were able to pop start it in reverse pushing the car down the hill. The engine roared, and everyone was happy, we were on our way. The 2 Ugandans took care of paying ur new friends while I finally got it my camera and started snapping photos. 3:10 am and we were a half hour or maybe a little more to the parish. We drove for only 10 minutes as Leonsyo slowed to a stop per Francis' instructions. I thought we had missed a turnoff, but that was not it. Francis had seen a rabbit, and We were stopping to go rabbit hunting!!!! We were going to kill the rabbit, kill the wabbit, with the panga. Leonsyo missed with the panga, and oh by the way..in his haste to make the car quiet had turned off the car, and oh yeah kind of slid off the road. We tried several times to get the car back on the roadbut to no avail. By the way, now three and a half hours since we had seen a car on this road. They talked about sleeping it the car, but I wanted to walk. I knew somewhere between 2 hours and 3 hours there was a bed for me. Leonsyo and I started walking and Francis stayed with the car. We started walking at 340 am and at 510 am, Leonsyo announced we were here. Except his definition of we are here differs greatly from mine, as we were in the city, but still had 30 more minutes to walk. I am getting tired of typing and the way home is also fun. So blah, blah, blah, we arrived at the parish and no one away awake to let us in. finally 10 minutes later, we were let in and I was shown my room.......to be continued

Going to Pajuule

There is an expression in Uganda that I have used in this blog before, TIA -which stands for This is Africa. It usually means things get all messed up or 15 minute meetings start and hour and half late and then last for 2 hours. But in 5 years, this might be my biggest TIA. I declined to go on with Safari with all of my friends, and instead was going to a program in Pajuule with Father Leonsyo, a great Priest and a great friend. Safari would have been cooler, but Fr. Leonsyo is so proud of his organization, PTU Peace Together Uganda that I felt I should represent. He also told me I was representing Kelley, Morgan, Rainwater, Colleen, and a lot of different teachers. So let's go to Pajuule. Father told me I should be ready to go at 4 pm, although he later changed that to 5 pm. I talked to him at 530 and in his own way, "He answered John, John, John I am moving towards you. When I talked to him at 6 pm, we agreed I should walk down the road to the Acholi Inn and meet him there. I got there at 6:05 pm, and waited outside for a vehicle of unknown size and shape. At 6:15, it started storming so I moved across the street under a small veranda, I was soon joined by many bicycles and boda bodas. Although I had brought my iPad to take some pictures, I was now lamenting I had not brought my power cord and I could be in the lobby of the Acholi Inn cruising the net instead of watching the rain fall down. I talked to Father again and he told me there would "be 3 of us moving together. A half hour later at the bar, a man named Francis introduced himself and told me were both traveling with Leonsyo. he found me again just after 9 and said we should grab food for take away before we left. Sure why not add another delay to our departure. LOL. I got rice, potatoes, and a few pieces of chicken for 20,000/=. A little pricey, but let's go. We hit the road after 9 pm and I soon got the bad news that because of the weather the trip would be four hours long. I had chosend the back seat for more room, but found myself leaning on Francis' heavy sturdy Bag. My bag between my knees and my dinner under both legs, but still on the seat. I was suddenly glad I had not added gravy to my food, as the bumps were vicious. It felt like the windows were going to shatter on at least 20 % of the bumps. They were jarring, and I watched Francis sit calmly in his front row seat . I had definitely made the wrong choice in seats. I was both cursing and saying a few Hail Mary's under my breath. I just wanted to arrive in close to four hours, anything was possible. About every 20 minutes or so we passed a car on the road coming the other way.

Geoffrey

Geoffrey is a kid I have known since 2007, he was I think part of the original basketball crew that would meet up each day and walk with me to the courts. They all had their own personality and Geoffrey was and is a man of few words. He says the word, “Yah” a lot meaning yes, but it has an almost German quality to its pronunciation. I once described him to another Gulu SS teacher, probably Matt Michelin as Geoffrey who says, “Yah.” and he knew instantly who I was talking about. It seems like months ago, but probably only four weeks, I saw Geoffrey at Pece Stadium for the Athletic ( Track and Field) Competition. We chatted for a bit, and we exchanged numbers. He has called me a couple of times, and the one day I just felt awful, and we did not hook up. In a few hours, I am joining my friend, Father Leonsyo and driving to Pajuule. The other 24 teachers all went on safari this morning, so I thought with the hole in the middle of the day, I would go meet Geoffrey. I took a boda boda out to Gulu Central, which is in a place I have never seen and the school is certainly not centrally located. It took me 5 minutes to find Geoffrey, and I had to sign in the visitors’ book and then approach the office, etc. Geoffrey finally walked up to the office, it is a boarding school and it seems like every student in the compound was doing something—washing clothes, impromptu study sessions outside, playing football. Geoffrey kind of mentioned that he wanted to finish his wash, and I sat there as he washed each piece in one bucket, carefully putting into another rinse bucket, and slowly but methodically wringing as much water as he could get out of each piece. He then walked to the middle of the lawn and laid out his wet clothes in the grass. Our conversation was great, but there were long pauses, and of course, there were many Yahs to my longer questions. We talked about he was doing in Senior 5 and I told him how proud of him I was that he had worked so hard to be a student at the “A” level –Advanced Level. Not all students make it past S.4, ordinary level. He told me the story about how he was getting through this school by getting (financial) help from a classmate who was getting extra money, because he was a fast runner. The runner was having his school fees paid for by his parents, and would receive money from the school for his track prowess. He met Geoffrey, just at the beginning of this year, and was impressed that Geoffrey had made it this far to S.5. with good grades. The runner had remembered Geoffrey as a street kid who hung out in town with no family and no support. This is the first time Geoffrey has told me this story. He lost his parents when he was seven, he did not elaborate and I did not ask. He slept for several years with the night commuters when the violence in Gulu was bad. And I am not sure where he slept when he was a student at Gulu SS. He said he did not want to tell people the story, because they would feel sorry for him. So Geoffrey has grown taller since I last met him, by I felt his stature after this story was 10 feet tall. He has always been the even keel with the other kids, always was good at just handling every obstacle with a laugh. I was not aware of how tough this young kid’s life has been. My friend is named Geoffrey and I am so proud to know him. The current school is a boarding school and Geoffrey mentioned how much he likes the school. It is a home I guess. He then, uncharacteristically for him, leaned close, and asked for my advice. I thought like many young people here he was going to be short on school fees and my advice was just going to be a plea for help with some money. There I feel is nothing wrong with asking Americans for money, when it may be your only way to succeed. He carefully explained, that he is thinking about getting a camera, and taking pictures of people for money OR he might get a small place and cut hair. He was not asking for money, just an adult to guide him on his way. His parents have been gone a decade, and his simple request was photographer or barber. What should it be? We talked for awhile, and then Geoffrey asked me if I could help him out with something. Let’s hear it I said. He said he could use a pen for school, and oh maybe some lined paper. “Yah, I can buy you a pen.” We had a long walk to town, and it was a process getting him signed off campus. But we accomplished it and were soon on our way. I smiled at a white man in a car in the middle of our walk. “Could I trolley you into town” he said. Sure, I replied it was hot and still a long walk. I thought by his accent, he was British, but he was from Bulgaria and soon did not understand any of the questions I asked. He dropped us off with a smile and a handshake. Who would have ever thought in 2006, that I would be in a car in Uganda driven by a kind Bulgarian with a driven street kid named Geoffrey. We bought some school supplies in town, in all about $15 worth, I doubled everything that Geoffrey wanted and encouraged him to buy graph book which were not on his mental list. The doubling was simple, I wanted Geoffrey to share with his friend---the runner. Another amazing person here, can you imagine a high school kid helping a classmate with his tuition, because he was impressed by his drive and his journey.

Distances

The distance from St Louis to Kampala is 7929.6 Miles or 12761.5 Kilometers according to a website I picked up for Google. And I just spend a couple of minutes in the dark trying to change St. Louis to a period. Sometimes when all of us are this far away it makes it difficult to hug the ones we love. Sometimes it makes us feel selfish that we are here and maybe we should be home. We don't love you any less, we are just 7929.6 miles away. I spent a brief hour with a fellow teacher tonight, who wishes she was with her brother. Just to say that she loves him. Unfortunately, sometimes the difficulties our loved ones have are not cured by a hug or a simple phone call. I know how losing loved ones in the past couple of years has hurt me, and the ones that I call my friends. Sometimes that losing does not happen in an instant or a few days, sometimes that process is long. The only thing we can do is to be the best person we can be. A.M.D.G. Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam. Everything we do is for the greater glory of God. I truly believe that to be the best John Magee I can be is the best way to praise God. In our very small group of teachers, I have now had conversations with two good friends, TWO AWESOME PEOPLE, that worry about their brothers a long way from Uganda. Their brothers are not bad people or bad brothers--they just struggle with who they think they are. If they both saw themselves with their sister's love, all would be fine. Their sisters are my friends. I remember what my friend Frank said at times when he had done his very best for his foster children. He simply prayed and said, "God, I have done my best for your child today, please take care of them until I or someone else can help them again." When I send this to Frank tonight, he might quibble with my words, but he never quibbled with his love. Our task is just to AMDG and to love, love everyone we know with the best love we can muster, and then wake up the next day and love again. I know when you love 7929.6 miles does not matter and you can be that close. Tonight, I will pray my own prayers for my two friends and their brothers, and tomorrow before they leave for Safari, I will love them again, just as they love their brothers. And because they love their brothers, I will love them just a little bit more.

Bug Explosion, Round Two

Last night, I was being bothered by two bugs as I had my headlamp on trying to post on Facebook. I had enough and slapped the side of my head as the one got close. It literally exploded in powder in front of my head lamp, eerie sight. I guess it was some kind of moth, but not enough pieces left to identify. Also the blow to my head jarred my brain enough to remember where I lost my 3rd grade geography book. Just chilling' in the middle of Africa.

Bug Explosion and More

Okay, so I was going to post my bug story from Facebook, but internet is not cooperating. The other night, I was fighting with a stubborn internet (five minutes or so for pages to load, then just cutting out). I was being attacked by two bugs and they were driving me crazy, but my eyes were on the prize -- getting something posted. This one bug was really giving me fits, so as I heard him fly by the side of my head. I slapped my own head. A direct hit, I think it was some kind of moth, because it literally exploded into powder. And I had my head lamp on so it was actually kind of cool. I also hit myself so hard that I remembered where I lost my 3rd grade geography book (btw that is a joke). It is amazing how spoiled we are with the internet and so much information so quick. I remember hanging out with Tony and Dave Difani in a motel room in Daytona beach and being mesmerized because they had NCAA scores (in black and white) that would update maybe every 15 minutes or so, we thought it was amazing and just stared at the screen for an hour or so. I am currently in a village where essentially there is no power and no internet. The petrol for the vehicles is kept in plastic jugs (jerry cans) and it somehow all works for them. The village of Lacekocot rolls on, children laugh, business gets done, farmers dig, and people can be happy. It is just the impatient American who sometimes get frustrated with the pace or the fact that I have to chase a pig or a family of ducks away to use the outhouse. There are 6 latrines with a shower stall in the middle. Not a shower, just 3 walls of 4 feet and a door. The other day, as Isaac was holding the water bag so I can shower, I was amazed that the higher or lower I moved in the stall, I could get different smells. Up high was definitely the smell of POO, but when I got lower in the stall, scrubbing my legs, the smell of urine took over. Just using a washtub in the morning to wash my face and torso, and brushing my teeth makes me feel clean most mornings. Of course, after another tortuous bike ride home last night, standing in the rain, definitely made me feel more clean. I should be able to post a couple more times over the weekend. I am skipping the Safari to go with my Friend, Father Leonsyo and be with him for some kind of program. It is almost time for class and I have no idea, if after typing all of this, it will even post, but things are good. Get those Cardinals winning.....

Ronald and Mutessa

These two young men came to visit me a couple of weeks ago. They are both Ojaras, although in the Acholi culture, they are not brothers. But they should be. They are both called Ojara, because they were born with an extra finger on their right hand. I do not know if this is in the gene pool, but they are several Ojaras that I have taught. They explained it to me without hesitation, and both quickly showed me their hands where they both had similar scars where the finger was removed. It looks now like a small mole. They are currently in no man’s land; they have successfully completed their S.4. Studies, but neither of them has the school fees for the S.5. and S.6. course work. I remember them both vaguely from 2009, but I really do not know anything about their scholastic ability, although they did complete the S.4. exams. What happens to a dream deferred? Both boys say they are working hard at digging (farming) to try to have enough money to begin next year. I do not know if they will make it, and what does that do to your ability to succeed at the Advanced level, when you now have 2 or 3 years in between your Ordinary level (think high school). Although, I do remember going to a night class in 2008 with Odawa Henry, and seeing a handful of young men in their late 20s working extremely hard to master the difficult math course work in S.6. It can be done, but for those young men, they were working hard at school for 2-3 hours that night after a full day of physical labor. Both boys now have cards in their hands that I gave them to write to an American pen pal. I do not know who those pen pals will be yet. I hope I can get someone to write a letter to me via email, that I can print out this weekend and let them read. Since they have no school, they have no address and the probability of them getting the letters that will be mailed back in care of the school is not good. So we will talk again, one American who has the benefit of great education system, paid for with love by my wonderful parents, and two young Ugandan boys who may not ever reach their dream. For this moment all I can do is be their friend and listen to their stories and smile and laugh and encourage them the best they can. They have given me their story and their dreams—I think I received the better of that exchange. The world is changing, and I hope someday we are smart enough to know that any child that is not allowed to pursue his educational passion hurts us all. The investment made in these two by the Ugandan government, NGOs, or crazy philanthropist would be an investment that would pay us all back. This is not a request for money from anyone. I would not know how to work out the logistics (it can be quite complicated). It is merely a lament. What happens to a dream deferred?

Ronald and Mutessa

These two young men came to visit me a couple of weeks ago. They are both Ojaras, although in the Acholi culture, they are not brothers. But they should be. They are both called Ojara, because they were born with an extra finger on their right hand. I do not know if this is in the gene pool, but they are several Ojaras that I have taught. They explained it to me without hesitation, and both quickly showed me their hands where they both had similar scars where the finger was removed. It looks now like a small mole. They are currently in no man’s land; they have successfully completed their S.4. Studies, but neither of them has the school fees for the S.5. and S.6. course work. I remember them both vaguely from 2009, but I really do not know anything about their scholastic ability, although they did complete the S.4. exams. What happens to a dream deferred? Both boys say they are working hard at digging (farming) to try to have enough money to begin next year. I do not know if they will make it, and what does that do to your ability to succeed at the Advanced level, when you now have 2 or 3 years in between your Ordinary level (think high school). Although, I do remember going to a night class in 2008 with Odawa Henry, and seeing a handful of young men in their late 20s working extremely hard to master the difficult math course work in S.6. It can be done, but for those young men, they were working hard at school for 2-3 hours that night after a full day of physical labor. Both boys now have cards in their hands that I gave them to write to an American pen pal. I do not know who those pen pals will be yet. I hope I can get someone to write a letter to me via email, that I can print out this weekend and let them read. Since they have no school, they have no address and the probability of them getting the letters that will be mailed back in care of the school is not good. So we will talk again, one American who has the benefit of great education system, paid for with love by my wonderful parents, and two young Ugandan boys who may not ever reach their dream. For this moment all I can do is be their friend and listen to their stories and smile and laugh and encourage them the best they can. They have given me their story and their dreams—I think I received the better of that exchange. The world is changing, and I hope someday we are smart enough to know that any child that is not allowed to pursue his educational passion hurts us all. The investment made in these two by the Ugandan government, NGOs, or crazy philanthropist would be an investment that would pay us all back. This is not a request for money from anyone. I would not know how to work out the logistics (it can be quite complicated). It is merely a lament. What happens to a dream deferred?

In Praise of Incredible Women (now with grammar)

I am amidst a group of teachers each weekend that are incredible in their own talents and their dreams in so many ways. There are only five guys, so that leaves 20 plus incredible women, but this is not their story. Over the weekend, touching base with home with faster internet, I saw that Hayley Bokern, aka Meeko was having a graduation party this weekend. I decided to stay up, (okay I set an alarm) to call St. Louis, to wish her and her classmates a congratulation from a world away. The alarm went off at 11 pm (it is crazy, but I often go to bed before 9 pm in the village of Lacekocot) and I got up, got dressed, opened up my door, opened up the heavy metal door, and walked to the street to get better cell phone reception. We missed connections several times, so I had time to contemplate life. For the first time that I can remember the entire village was asleep, and I was standing alone by the road looking up at the beautiful stars of the Southern sky. I got through to Beanie (every student who has ever been on the Biloxi service trip has a nickname) and she told me she had not arrived at the party. I went back to my room and tried to get a Cardinal score from internet reception that was not there. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .I was in trouble with my mother, because I had not posted a blog entry today, and I laid in my bed, thinking about how special Meeko, Beanie, and Ra$ha and all of their classmates are to me. I am reminded of those three several times a day, because they hijacked my iPad in Biloxi and changed my opening page to a goofy picture of themselves. I guess I could change it (I really don’t know how currently), but I have grown accustomed to having these faces from home greet me several times a day. The Class of 2012 were the oldest class left in the school when I got kicked out the door at Nerinx, and I will remember how much they stood by me and stood up for me. There are so many examples of their quest for what is right, I will remember always a voice mail from Beanie that started out, “Mr. Magee, I know you told me to stay out of it, but….” I will remember Brennan and Colleen and so many others writing such an eloquent defense and questioning those in charge. Sister Barbara told the Class of 2012 that they had not really lived if they did not dissent and disagree. And how they did disagree. Of course, she was not too happy when these intelligent women disagreed with her. I will remember Molly and her t-shirt idea, and I will remember Erica and Madison rounding the corner in tears. They had heard me tell a wonderful young freshmen that I would not be there for the end of their journey. I cannot tell you how much the courage and intelligence of Zazu has meant to me in my life, or how much the tears rolling down the cheek of Lizzie in a Gazebo in Webster told me how much I was loved. This post may get long, because each line I write I remember one more person. They are simply the most wonderful people in the world, they are the Nerinx Hall Class of 2012. I have to say if I am not invited to your reunion in the next five years, we will have a better party at the Wine Bar afterwards. You are so special to me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . This weekend, I had retold the story of little Samuel, the 2 ½ year old Angel I held in my arms before he died 2 years ago. I will not forget then when I told that story at Nerinx, and there was the voice of another Angel, Claire, helping me tell that story. Claire shows the world more kindness and love in a day then most people do in a year. Her best friend is Megan, or LifeSong, she was my advisee, and I will never forget her quiet drive to be the best person, best friend, and best student she could be, and also was a great big sister. I am reminded of Jessi and Brittany racing to erase the boards every other day, there simple way of making the ordinary—extraordinary. I remember the PreCalculus classes, and the quiet smile of Hannah and how cool it was that she went on Biloxi this year. It just crept into my mind, what a special kid Amy W. is and will continue to be. Amy was responsible for organizing (bonus Ugandan smile) a black binder probably the most treasured possession I own. It would definitely be the first thing I ran out of the house with, in case of a fire at my house. Janie, who I remember looking at me like she was in trouble every conversation I started with her freshmen year, is a charm and such a blessing in my life. The notorious MGG and all the passion she came to Biloxi this year is amazing, and the fact that she brought her little sister this year and maybe Dad next year is such a gift to her family. If I sit down tomorrow, I could right this post with 22 different names and each of them would be special to me. Chimpf Chompf just jumped into my head, and her spirit and her goofiness made me laugh almost every day. It is a fact that her and Curli Locks and Juno (Emily M.) are some of the kindest people I have ever known. I got to watch them love each other and love the World (or at least one corner of the world ---just off Division street). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The grammar in this post was awful, so I am rewriting it the next day, and immediately I thought of the wonderful spirit of Molly Trevathan and how much she brought her desire and her smile to everything she did. And then I remember that whole side of the class with Wakko, Yakko, and Dot all so special, and what amazing people they are. Father Boyle says or close, “ I see in these students, what they do not see in themselves until they do.” Now so many of them are at the age, where they have embraced their talents and their gifts. When I think of how special Pooh is, I had to stand up for him and so many like her that were disrespected and mistreated by petty people. Tracy Johnson singing an Aria for my Ugandan friend --- what a special memory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I never got to walk the halls with you your Senior Year, but you know and I know--- I was there every step of the way. “No wizard that there is or was”,---can ever change that. Tonight I congratulated Hayley on the phone, but as I tried to make that call I looked into the stars of the Southern sky. Most of you have never seen them, the beauty of the Southern Cross is amazing. Even more amazing was each star on a clear Ugandan sky reminded me of each of you. It stood there as a prelude to the journeys you will make and the new adventures you will have. You will do that, because inside of each of you, you have a special talent, --The ability to Love and….. You, the Class of 2012, do that so well ! I know, because in my house I have a little black binder, and every time I open it love pours out. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I just walked outside my room again to see the stars and think about how amazing you are. Each of you are my stars and I am going to sleep feeling that I am the most blessed man in the world.

In Praise of Incredible Women

In Praise of Incredible Women I am amidst a group of teachers each weekend that are incredible in their own talents and their dreams in so many ways. There are only five guys, so that leaves 20 plus incredible women, but this is not their story. Over the weekend, touching base with home with faster internet, I saw that Hayley Bokern, aka Meeko was having a graduation party this weekend. I decided to stay up, (okay I set an alarm) to call St. Louis, to wish her and her classmates a congratulation from a world away. The alarm went off at 11 pm (it is crazy, but I often go to bed before 9 pm in the village of Lacekocot) and I got up, got dressed, opened up my door, opened up the heavy metal door, and walked to the street to get better cell phone reception. We missed connections several times, so I had time to contemplate life, as for the first time, that I can remember the entire village was asleep, and I was standing by the road looking up at the beautiful stars of the Southern sky. I got through to Beanie (every student who has ever been on the Biloxi service trip has a nickname) and she told me she had not arrived at the party, so I went back to my room and tried to get a Cardinal score from internet reception that was not there. ___________________________________I was in trouble with my mother, because I had not posted a blog entry today, and I laid in my bed, thinking about how special Meeko, Beanie, and Ra$ha were to me. I am reminded of them several times a day, because they hijacked my iPad in Biloxi and changed my opening page to a goofy picture of themselves. I guess I could change it (I really don’t know how currently), but I have grown accustomed to having their goofy faces greet me several times a day. The Class of 2012 were the oldest class left in the school when I got kicked out the door, and I will remember how much they stood by me. I will remember a voice mail from Beanie that started out, “Mr. Magee, I know you told me to stay out of it, but….” I will remember Brennan and Colleen and so many others writing such an eloquent defense and questioning those in charge. Sister Barbara told the Class of 2012 that they had not really lived if they did not dissent and disagree. Of course, she was not too happy when these intelligent women disagreed with her. I will remember Molly and her t-shirt idea, and I will remember Erica and Madison rounding the corner in tears, when they heard me tell a wonderful young freshmen that I would not be there for the end of their journey. I cannot tell you how much the courage and intelligence of Zazu has meant to me in my life, or how much the tears rolling down the cheek of Lizzie in a Gazebo in Webster told me how much I was loved. This post may get long, because each line I write I remember one more person or one more event of the most wonderful people in the world, the Nerinx Hall Class of 2012. If I am not invited to your reunion in the next five years, we will have a better party at the Wine Bar afterwards. You are so special to me. I had to retell the story of little Samuel, the 2 ½ year old Angel I held in my arms before he died this weekend, and I will forever remember the voice of another Angel, Claire, who shows the world more kindness and love in a day then most people do in a year. Her best friend is Megan, or LifeSong, she was my advisee, and I will never forget her quiet drive to be the best person, best friend, and best student she could be. I am reminded of the Jessi and Brittany racing to erase the boards every other day, there way of making the ordinary—extraordinary. The quiet smile of Hannah and how cool it was that she went on Biloxi this year just creeped into my mind, as I think about what a special kid Amy W. is and will continue to be. (Microsoft Word does not like this sentence, but it is late and I do). Amy was responsible for giving me a black binder that would be the first thing I ran out of the house with, in case of a fire at my house. Janie, who looked at me like she was in trouble every conversation I started with her freshmen year, is a charm and such a blessing in my life. The notorious MGG and all the passion she came to Biloxi this year is amazing, and the fact that she brought her little sister this year and maybe Dad next year is such a gift to her family. If I sit down tomorrow, I could right this post with 22 different names and each of them would be special to me. Chimpf Chompf just jumped into my head, and her spirit and her goofiness made me laugh almost every day. The fact that her and Curli Locks and Juno (Emily M.) are some of the kindest people I have ever known. I got to watch them love each other and love the World (or at least one corner of the world ---just off Division street).__________________________________________________________ I never got to walk the halls with you your Senior Year, but you know and I know I was there every step of the way. “No wizard that there is or was”,---can ever change that. Tonight I congratulated Hayley on the phone, but as I tried to make that call I looked into the stars of the Southern sky. Most of you have never seen them, the beauty of the Southern Cross is amazing. Even more amazing was each star on a clear Ugandan sky reminded me of each of you. It stood there as a prelude to the journeys you will make and the new adventures you will have. You will do that, because in side of each of your special talents, is the ability to love and….. You, the Class of 2012, do that so well ! I know, because in my house I have a little black binder, and every time I open it love pours out._______________________________________ I just walked outside my room again to see the stars and think about how amazing you are. Each of you are my stars and I am going to sleep feeling that I am the most blessed man in the world.

Mid Summer Reflections on Uganda

Just got back from the Teacher Exchange conference, and got to MTN just before the rain to get internet again for next month. Got impatient waiting for 10 minutes, so I struck out figuring worst case I could get to Uchumi store and hang out there. I got to Uchumi alright, but had to cross a river of water to get inside the store. Jane, Rachel, and Laura were on the porch laughing at my predicament along with about 10 Ugandans. It was funny standing in the middle of road with nowhere to go. Finally did my best to get over the river, but left shoe was almost totally submerged. I was kind of excited about the end of the conference, finally got a chance to talk to math teachers, and I introduced them to Khan Academy on my iPad (soon to be one of yours' iPad) and they seemed excited about the possibility. I have heard that Pope Paul VI now has a nice computer lab, and maybe just maybe, some opportunities are opening up for Ugandan students. I am really trying to figure out how the efforts of a few people could do the most good. I think if you could open up a small school and teach them a more modern curriculum and also teach them some great test taking skills for the 4 Year cumulative tests that are the sole determiner of their future in college and further life. I am convinced that I could get rid of some of the archaic things they learn in math class and introduce them to something much more entertaining and a better base for living in our modern world. I am curious about Restore Academy and if they are doing something different than the traditional Ugandan system. We had a great time last night, most of us hung out at the pizza place, waiting for food ( I think it was over an hour and a half for some), luckily I had already filled up at the pork joint for about a dollar and a half. It was cool hanging out with everyone, and then we moved to the second story bar that is on the grounds of our house. It was built by some UN guys probably 20 years ago, but Isaac and I have made a few improvements and it is a great place to hang out. So with my iPod and iPod speakers (thanks Frank Hellwig), we kind of had a sing along party with Josh, Feist, Isaac, Sarah Girl, the other Sarah (cheesehead from Wisconsin), and Meagan. We had a blast singing and just hanging out, although some in the house might have thought otherwise. I have arranged to spend a couple days at Pope Paul VI near the end of the trip, and also saw Kumakech Lawrence, one of the happiest men I have ever met. He was really excited to see me and was also really excited to have me visit in a couple of weeks. It looks like I am blowing off the Safari to be a guest of Father Leonsyo in Pajule next week. Things are great, just wish I knew how or what to do to help the students of Uganda more.

Crazy Day --- Epilogue

Got power, got Internet, and realized what the day gave me. In the midst of the craziness and frustration, an S4 student asked me to help him with some math problems. One on one teaching and the activity where a student and I tackle a problem is maybe my favorite experience. I am back in Uganda where many Ugandans will stop me on e street and say welcome back. I am on this trip, because of the amazing love and support of all my friends and family and first and foremost my students--you are so special to me. Also on the way home, the IC people were telling me that there is a child named after me. And the one Ugandans comment was, "There will be more." is a bit daunting, but also quite humbling. Also the Head Girl and two of her classmates told me that I should stay for the whole year. So I guess crazy day or frustration day as I called it should be renamed blessed day or amazing day,.....perspective...it is all about what you see.

Crazy Day

Isaac and I had thought we were leaving Atanaga SS at 1 pm today, we both had plans to return to Gulu and get things accomplished. Isaac had painstakingly on bad internet connections got tailor measurements for his wife and two young daughters. He thought he had plenty of time to get to the tailiors when we arrived home at two. First on my list was to write something on this blog. I had run out of power on my laptop, almost my phone, and the iPad was limping home. Although connecting with the Internet is sketchy, usually we can piece together some news from home. But for some reason, it was not allowing us to do anything as the power bar was sliding to its own demise. This morning I woke and was wide awake at 5 am, so I plugged it the laptop, it said I had 11 minutes of power left---Liar!!! To get Internet, first I stick the wireless into my USB port and then wait for it to show a signal. I almost had it twice, finally on the last time I got a faint signal, and quickly clicked on to the Internet . I had a bookmark for MLB standings, so I clicked on that first, after a couple of minutes, it started to load so I quickly clicked the scores link. It started to load and the laptop went dead. I screamed, but I disguised myself as a turkey scream, so none of the sleeping inhabitants of my "hotel" would know it was me. Isaac's and my ride was supposed to be in a sweet air-conditioned van (unheard of in northern Uganda) at 1 pm, but instead we were informed that we would be riding back with some Invisible Children people who were coming to Atanga for a parents' meeting scheduled for 9 a.m. I though worst case the meeting starts at 10:30 and goes to 12:30 or 1:30. No big deal, most of the parents showed up at 11:15 for the 9:00 am meting and the meeting ended at 3:35 !!!! I sat in for several sessions of the meeting, but since they were talking in Lwo, it was kind of of pointless. It was a lot of blah, blah, blah, Invisible, blah blah blah Head Teacher. We were talking that maybe it was better this way because in English we would have become frustrated with the redundancy and the repeating of remarks. I am quite sure, each speaker said they were going to be brief and recognized each member of the head table before moving on to their remarks. The other frustrating part was that our vehicle for the ride home was nowhere to be seen and the phone network was not working. I joked with Isaac that the vehicle would come full of people and chickens. It finally arrived at just past 3:30 and it was full of people. We stuffed ourselves into the vehicle and even though I did not fit, we both just wanted to be moving. I realized about five minutes in this was a big mistake, and soon asked Zachaeus, if I could place my one leg over his and into a small corner of the Land Rover. All but the first two seats in front our benches facing each other. Zachaeus and I rode this way leg to leg for the next hour and a half. Of course, the rain had fouled the roads and we had to travel very slowly at times. I could see beads of sweat that seemed to be poppiang out of Isaac's head. There was a few inhalers as trucks barreled at us in the opposite direction. (Not as bad as coming close to a mutatu van on the way there. The mutates all have words on top of their windshields. The one that came closest to us had a sign that said, "God Take Me Home". Not quite what you want to see coming at you. I thought I was Woody Allen being driven home by Christopher Walken in Annie Hall). Back to our story, I also told Isaac ( I really should stop telling him things). "Watch we get home and there is No Meat, only vegetables.". So finally, we get home and started dropping off the "car pool" on the way home. The first person got out, by climbing over 3 of us, and started to walk away, when they called after her. She had forgotten her chicken. We got home five minutes later to see all the women teachers eating on the front porch. I looked down, "Is there any meat in there?". I said. "No, but it tastes great.". ------------Women you gotta love' me. At least it seems I will have a better night than the chicken.

16 x16 Sudoku

There is not much to do in Lacekocot after school is over, Isaac and I have settled into a routine where we pretty much don’t do anything. We read, or sleep, and each night briefly get on the internet. It sounds boring, but often we are in bed before 9 pm…. Sometimes even closer to 8. This is from a guy who normally stays up to 1 am or so, even when I work the next day. Several good things happened after Mass on Sunday, I walked into a sports betting place and placed a wager on Spain (they won easily) and I bought a Sunday Monitor that has a 16 x 16 Sudoku puzzle. I often wonder if anyone in all of Uganda solves this. Last time in Atanga, I tried 2 or 3 times and failed each time after about 3 to 4 hours of work each time. Isaac laughed when I told him I had a super Sudoku and would probably work on that for the rest of the night. I was nearing the end tonight, right before dinner, and each number placed made my job easier. I was so close, and had filled up four extra pages of scratch work when I looked down in column 2 and saw the number 16 twice. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH. Good day at school. If you are one of my nieces or nephews, (including my Goddaughter who has my car) I have not heard from any of you, how is the summer going? That is all.

Why I Hate The British

Well for starters, I do not think there food is that good, and I think they were quite unkind to my Irish ancestors, but the remnants of the British Empire are causing frustration in my life. Right now. The Ugandans have been brought up to believe that the way the British think is the way all educated people should think. So they have this system of formality and precision in a place that does not need formality and precision. Each day, Ugandan teachers use rulers to draw margins and lines on paper constantly. It makes the work neat, but the amount of time used to draw the lines takes away from real needs. I am currently in my fifth year of teaching in Uganda, and I think this is the third time, I have taught finding the mode and median from grouped data. Let me be brief for you non-math people, let’s say I have attendance at my theatre of 10 people aged 8-13, 22 people aged 14-19, 10 people aged 20-25, 6 people aged 26-31, and 2 people aged 32-37. To find the median ( or middle number) we would try to find where the middle is. In AP Statistics, we would just say the median is between the ages of 14 and 19, and if we wanted to embellish we would say that number is probably closer to 19. Here is the British/Ugandan formula for the same number median = L1 + {(N/2 - Cfb)/(fm)}i where L1 is the LCB of the median class, N is the total cumulative frequency, Cfb is the CF before the median class and fm is the frequency in the middle class. Here is the rub, the N/2 part of the formula is off by 0.5 and even if you calculate this number. Go ahead. The answer is 17.59 which sounds spiffy and all, but there is no way to determine if it is correct. The British have formulaized a way to make a wild ass guess, but it is still a WAG. And don’t get me started on why group data is becoming obsolete with the ability to obtain the whole data set with modern technology. The problem is many Ugandans believe this is the way we should educate our children, and all this complication takes them away from something big. And the combination is now part African and part British which means a school meeting that is supposed to start at 1:30 pm and last for 30 minutes will start at 2:20 pm and last for two hours. And the last 10 speakers at the meeting will all say the words, “I want to make my remarks brief” or “Since this meeting is long, I will only add a few points” of course both of these disclaimers are often prefaces for 10 minute speeches. Thanks British Empire

St. Jude's -- 2 Years Later

We had a nice party this weekend, and I was entirely focused on getting the beer and trYing to make it cold, but through this frenzy I was also aware that the entire crew would be visiting St. Jude's on Sunday. If you are not aware of that tragic day, you can go back to 2010 and read the hardest post I have ever written, but the story of a young boy's life who ended on a beautiful day still makes me sad.----------------------------- The Catholic Mass at Gulu High is now at 8 a.m., in order to get there on time, we would have to wake up very early. When I woke up, it was raining and the temptation to stay in bed was there for a brief moment, but I remember how lost I had felt when I had made that wrong decision two years ago. The rain kept some of the students away, but there was a lively crew of young people. And the young girls curtsied when they greeted me with a warm hello. I was joined at Mass, by Arianne, a math teacher from Laramie, Wyoming. She has a sharp wit, and the pragmatism of someone who solves problems for a living. The music and songs from the students were amazing and it is still special to hear the ulations (war chants) amidst a song of praise. A great way to start the day, and on the way home I stopped at an East Africa betting parlor (something new this year) and placed a bet on Spain in the big football match tonight.---------- A good breakfast with lots of potatoes, eggs, and sausages, and home to St. Jude's. I was a little silent and apprehensive about the place, but we were soon there. Geoffrey found me almost immediately and he became the recipient of the Flying Screeching Monkey supplied by Tom Magee. Scroll down for 2007 and 2008 pictures of Geoffrey. As more children ventured out to play, it started to seem normal. Filda the former head of the place is no longer there, but I talked to a couple of women who remembered me. There were two boys speaking in Lwo and miming that I was the one who pulled Samuel out of the well. It was a little tough when two of the moms told me they remembered and I thanked them as I fought back tears. Later one of these women brought the woman who watched over Samuel and the three of us talked about how little Samuel was an Angel and he was looking down on us right now. There was definitely one Angel at st. Jude's today. Ashley walked up to me with a small Hibiscus and placed it behind my ear. I have just met Ashley, but she has a smile and a laugh in her conversations that makes everyone around her wanting to her her more. She had us all laughing and smiling last night and told several great stories. And so that is how I will remember St. Jude's today, I can still see Samuel lifeless in front of me, I can still remember the awfulness and the frustration of that day, but a small act of kindness is all it takes to remember love. Love does conquer all, and when we lose someone so precious to us, or someone we only held onto for a brief moment in a long hour, we fall back to love. It is only through loving each other that we shine as God intended. When the two women smiled sadly at me and remembered, I felt loved. When Josh patted me on the back as we walked away from the capped hole, I felt loved. When Ashley reached out to me to give me a flower, I felt loved ... And tonight right before I close my eyes I am going to send all that love to my little Angel--Samuel.

52 years without wife...what is wrong

A good day on Thursday at school. It started out the same, but I soon found out that my teaching partner Okidi Polycarp was to be at a meeting with the Head Teacher, so I volunteered to teach the classes myself. I taught the Senior 2 students Vectors, the Senior 3 students Cumulative Frequency Polygons and Ogives and I taught the Senior 4 students Combined Matrix Transformations. There was some extra time with Senior 4 so I let them write anonymous questions on small sheets of paper and I would answer them. They are really curious about life in America and most want to visit. They asked several questions and soon it was time to go. I stuffed the remaining slips in my pocket. I sat down in the staff room and looked at the ones I did not answer. My favorite (and I have a picture) was the title of the post. "52 years old without wife what is wrong". ... Quite amusing to me. Being my age and single is unheard of in Uganada. But before that laugh several students found me at around 4:00 pm and we did an hour and a half of math before I left. Heaven. The students at the end of Senior 4 take cumulative tests over 4 years of each of their subjects. These tests are the sole basis of who makes it to the University level or not. Pretty important tests and as I was given them help it dawned on me that there is very little instruction on how to take a tests. The first problem had an 8 and a 17 in it so my mind immediately went to a 8-15-17 Pythagorean triple, but they did not know this little trick. The funny thing was three problems later we had the same triple in a completely different problem....Any way a great day. I had already decided not to ride my bike, my body was tired, so our little math group walked home with one of the students Patrick on my bike. He told me we would not beat the ran and we did not. We were all soaked to the bone, but as we walked through town, the town was enjoying the predicament of the large American. They were all huddled under overhangs of various shops, and I hollered out, "I don't think the heavy stuff is coming down yet." Might post in a couple of hours, we had a great 4th of July party last night. All is well.

Learning and Loving in Atanga

An interesting day today where I have experience a few lows, but end the day with optimism and hope. The day started out just fine, or maybe not, usually they trip to school is not that tough (although it was on Monday, when Isaac took the wrong bike), but today my small bike seemed extra small, and I was struggling to get my knees past the handlebars as I pedaled. The midterms ended after first period today, which meant it was time to teach Senior 2 and Senior 3 again. Hoorah! More time in the classroom. This afternoon I started to mark (grade) the S3 midterms and their results were not close to good. I wondered what I could do to help these students understand mathematics in such a short time. It seems that there are not as many strong students at Atanga SS as there were in 2009, and without these capable few, it seems some of the studying and the dedication amongst the other students is a bit lost. I then tried to get a hold of Caroline Mosby and Meghan Grass through facebook, as I wanted to tell them that their five pages of goofy photos and goodbye card for Ocwa Alfred was now prominently displayed on his front room wall for all the world to see. I had texted Cathy Barry to let her know Mary Grace’s photo was also on the wall. ( I am not sure if Mike knows how to text, maybe Ed Poth should teach him). But here is the cool part, isn’t it neat that something you gave someone, these cards are now hanging half a world away….. encouraging each visitor to ask who is Caroline, who is Meghan, and who is Toben? Still discouraged by the math difficulties of our students, but I came home to finish a wonderful book (Love Does by Bob Goff). It talks about loving in such a way that our love actually does something. Our as the Biloxi kids know not only having your heart in the right place, but your feet in the right place too. He only uses the word whimsy about 100 times, so I was reminded of my mother and her advice “to have a sense of whimsy” and who better than Bob G. who considers his office, Tom Sawyer Island at Disneyland (just read the book already). It is also cool that both Sarah Allen and Isaac have already completed this book, and we continue our journey together as teachers. __________________________________________________________________________________ I now have one simple goal for the rest of 2012, and that is to love each of you better. And when I say you I mean my family, my friends, and most important all of you that I have not met yet. “And for me, I’ve realized that I used to be afraid of failing at the things that really mattered to me, but now I’m more afraid of succeeding at things that don’t matter.” -- Bob Goff

Stabilize There

“Stabilize there,” were the words my friend Ocwa Alfred Jackson said to his chicken in the middle of our dinner. I think the chicken was confused about what was happening. Usually at this time of night, the chicken would return home with its four chicks and sleep for the night. But tonight was different. Alfred had invited Isaac and I for dinner, his wife Angela Rose was busy preparing a massive meal in the next room, and we were just talking. Alfred had invited a neighbor to join us for this great feast. The chicken and the choice of words by Alfred reminded me I was not in America. Alfred has a modest one room dwelling that is turned into 3 rooms with the addition of a couple of curtains. We were seated around a table in the center room, while his wife busily prepared a large meal for the four of us. Alfred’s youngest, Samuel not yet a year, spent a lot of time on his dad’s lap. Alfred told us that Samuel will sleep anywhere as long as he can reach out and feel someone near. If he does not feel mom or dad next to him he cries. Mercy, his two year old daughter, peaked past a lace curtain inside once or twice, but left quickly upon seeing two large white men. The dinner consisted of great tasting chicken, rice, posho, doo(greens similar to spinach), millet bread mixed with cassava, cooked cabbage, and ended with pineapple after the meal was over. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Among the first things that Alfred showed me was he had the cow that sang “Silver Bells” hung right next to his front door. He squeezed the cow’s hoof to make the cow sing another song, and he laughed. The cow was white in a white and red sock, when he left St. Louis, but now all the white was brown. The Ugandan dust that is always prevalent, made that transition quickly. Now the singing cow which looked pristine and new in white, now looked like a comfortable old friend. He told me that the cow was the baby’s favorite. Alfred laughs and gives a big smile every time he hears the cow sing. Of course, Alfred always is ready with a smile, friendship or a prayer that praises God for his blessings. I wonder how many American women who live in nice, big houses would trade what they have for a 3 room house in Uganda, with a man who is kind and laughs every time a cow puppet sings. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There is so much to tell you about the evening. I could tell you how Alfred had made sure he had large Fantas waiting for us. Or I could tell you that he walked us all the way home, and I wondered why until I realized it was just to give us the two extra Fantas. A small Thgift, but like everything Alfred does it meant a lot. It started getting darker and it was harder to see the food that we were eating, Alfred disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a solar light. Coca-Cola had given many of them to students and teachers so they can do work at night. There is no power in the whole village, remember. Then with a flick of the light up, Alfred illuminated two children that had entered the room, one young girl, his niece, was about 12, and his nephew, a young boy, who had just entered Primary 1. Without a real explanation, Alfred told us that they were both living with him and his wife, and he was supporting them both and trying to give them a better future through better schools. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The chicken was now stabilized for at least an hour in the place, Alfred had told it to go. I asked Isaac to take a picture of the chicken in the dark. The flash illuminated the sleeping hen with her four chicks nestled safely below her, warm and feeling loved. I ate dinner with my friend Alfred, who gave us the best of his hospitality and his kindness, and a great dinner. And I think maybe at the end of the night, Alfred’s four chicks, two of his own, and two of his extended family, nestled under Alfred and his wife, feeling warm and feeling loved. Stabilize here.

Carrying Wood

So there is essentially a two story treehouse as part of our property. The steps going up to the second floor were okay, but the hand railing was not good. The hand railing was two by fours so my plan was to buy a 12 foot 2 x 4 and nail it parallel and also sink it into the ground a couple inches for support. The first step was to find a 2 x 4 in Gulu....not an easy task. To be continued..... Termites are a problem here, so most of the buildings are brick made from the earth. And most of the wood here for small structures is just bamboo lashed together. So as Isaac peeled off to get some food, I went walking down streets. For some reason, I saw a mass of metal entry gates and decided to look behind it to see what else the shop had. To do that I had to hop over a drainage ditch filled with water. First I saw a 2 x 6, then a 4 x 4. I finally the coveted 2 x 4 although there were 16 ft. long ( or close I can almost guarantee they were not a uniform size). After careful looking, aided by a Ugandan student, Oydek Julius, we found two straight boards. Now where was Isaac? I tried to find him at Coffee Hut, the hangout of all the white people, but he had just left. I walked by the same boda boda drivers, who were trying to get me to ride, and I asked if they had seen a big white guy. They said had he had just ducked into a shop and I found him. We spent 32,000 shillings for the two boards and started to walk through town. Two large white men carrying two large boards on their shoulders walking through town. We were a hit. Then when I got back to the bar. Lindsey Troup came out looked at what we were about to do, and said, "Why don't you take down the wood, so the inside steps work. She was right, and it kind of ticked me off that I had not seen it first, but a good idea, is a good idea. Now, how where we going to saw through wood without finding a band saw anywhere in town. Our day guard, Michael Jackson, soon returned with a hacksaw and we got to work. Of course, the hacksaw broke and Isaac and I took turns using the blade and sawed through a 2 x 4 by hand with half a hacksaw blade. And to think somewhere in the Gaffney garage is our Share Kindness battery operated Sawzall. We finally got it together, and things are looking good for our fourth of July party on Friday. Power is out and this post is getting long, and I might add pictures.

Jacob Acaye

Walking into Gulu town, tonight with Sarah Girl, Josh, and li'l feisty. We were looking for something different and I was going to take them to the Green Valley which is a little bar that has a little bit of a wild streak. As we have now been here a week or so, our headlamps were on just sporadically as we are getting better at negotiating roads in the dark. There was a crowd of Boda Boda drivers trying to get us to use their bikes for transportation, when I noticed one of them had the Cardinals Sunday hat on. I explained to him with a laugh that he was wearing the hat of my home village. We had not even reached the corner when some young men called out to us, and soon I was warmly greeted by Jacob Acaye in the dark. He had a huge smile on his face, and was so happy to see me. I think it was the Cardinals hat that spurred the meeting. Some of you remember two years ago, Jacob was wearing a Reds hat, when thanks to some great work by Rachel Kuehnle and Becky Dale, I was able to get him a Cardinal hat on the last day of my trip. We soon made plans to have our two groups go to a different place to hang out. There are times when I think we all have doubt about what we do, and sometimes I have my own doubts about Invisible Children, but when I see Jacob and know his story---then just maybe IC has done something quite remarkable. I am going to try to imbed a link here to Jacob's story. But here was a boy who was kidnapped at a young age, watch his brother get executed, and still smiles at you and greets you like he has always smiled and life has always been wonderful. I also wonder how many Jacobs we have lost, because we have sit by and watch genocide and atrocities happen. I wonder how many young boys and girls in Syria could be great lawyers in 10 years given the chance. How many young minds and young smiles have we lost to war and poverty ? But even when I think of man at his worst, I remember tonight Jacob's laughter, his hearty handshake, and embrace. Such a smile, such a young man, such a journey.... I am blessed to be his friend, and humbled that he is part of my life.