THE AFRICA CHALLENGE...

It’s sometime in the middle of the night, and I write by headlamp as it is hard to sleep with so many thoughts in my mind.

We met about 500 youth this week at 3 projects in Kanungu district all singing to us seeking assistance. Gerald said we were the first Muzungus to visit God Cares.  The sign on the gate says ‘God Cares Aids Project and Orphanage’ but he is changing the name to ‘God Cares Children’s Village’ as is doesn’t attach the stigma of being an orphan to the child.

We arrived to a few hours after dark, to find 200 children singing to welcome us. A large bonfire provided light until a brilliant full moon rose over horizon into the starry sky. I was dazed by the magic of the scene and energy of children’s voices. A few of the youth were especially powerful leaders. One boy wore a sheet around his back like a cape, commanding the others to sing and clap. Together they all thundered. I couldn’t stop shooting photos and video. It was a dream come true—like the lost boys—a scene from Peter Pan.

Livingstone is Gerald’s director of communications, and he is very impressive—animated and fun to watch leading the kids in action songs. The songs the children sing are often Christian in tone, speaking to the lord. The church service we took part in at God Cares that first morning started off with lots of signing, clapping, and highly spirited rambunctious movement. The other half consisted of a pastor reading from a bible in the local language while Livingston translated to English. The story went like this: A man of god was walking to town, forty kids met him along the road and joked with him because he was bald (sitting at the front of the church I took my hat off and pointed to my balding head). The man of God got upset and called wild dogs from the bushes to eat the children. The lesson was that children should respect their elders or else.

The second story told of a boy who picked a wild pumpkin in the forest, brought it home and put it in a stew. The boy didn’t know the pumpkin was bitter and it made everyone ill. The pumpkin, the children were told, represents AIDS. They must be wise or they will become ill, even if they think they are doing something good. Norman followed this by telling the children that the reason they are orphans is because their parents had bad behaviors. The kids are there for many reasons. The last thing a small child needs to hear is that their parents died because they were bad people.

After the church service, the youth presented more than 3 hours of singing and dancing for the community. The talent was nothing short of amazing. These kids could fund the whole project if they went on tour with proper management. Gerald asked the community to hire them when planning a wedding or any other event where entertainment is needed. They would be a hit at summer camps across Canada and the USA. I will contact Tim Horton’s for sponsorship, so they can visit Tim Horton’s summer camps. One of the kids had a well-worn Tim Horton’s t-shirt and a cell phone airtime salesman on the bus ride wore a Tim Horton’s hat.

Video of a traditional dance from that day on facebook: http://www.facebook.com//photo.php?pid=10318599&id=906200533#/video/video.php?v=363957740533

My youtube channel has a video of the mothers dance: http://www.youtube.com/corcircle

Between acts, Gerald pitched raffle tickets for 2,000 shillings each. Liane and I gave 5,000 each and a half dozen other people bought tickets. The tickets showed clip art of a bicycle, cell phone, TV, CD player, t-shirt, and a few other items— none of which they had—although they said ‘’they are there.” Gerald told us they would buy these things with the money raised. The ticket didn’t have a draw date, but I remember him talking about the draw to take place at a major fundraising event on January 9.

While Liane was dancing during the event, she left her phone on the chair and returned to find that someone transferred 1,000 shillings off her phone to their phone.

Everyone skipped lunch, as there wasn’t food to feed everyone in attendance. Gerald told us it costs 100,000 shillings a day to feed the kids who live at the orphanage— who total over 200. However, he said that since the Muzungus are here now families may send children to the orphanage thinking they may get something.  100,000 may seem like a lot, but that’s only 25cents per child per day. On this day they had a special event and the crowd stayed through rain, wind and hot sun, but only raised 30000 shillings or 15 dollars. It seems impossible that they could sustain over 200 kids very long. Gerald said he was working for an international research firm that paid 4 million shillings a month and all this money went to look after the youth. Now he is laid off and in debt $1700US. We are told if he doesn’t pay the debt by December 20^th he goes to jail. This debt paid for food, medical bills, and rent for the facilities. He has been in jail like this before.

One of his staff was put in charge of buying supplies and was given cash to do so, but pocketed the money and told stores Gerald would pay the IOU later. A month passed and stores started looking for the money. That was a month of food Gerald had to pay twice.

When it got dark that night, Liane loaned Livingston her phone that doubles as a flashlight. It came back with another 1000 shillings transferred off. Gerald, Liane, and I approached Livingston about it, which he played off like he didn’t know what we were talking about. Then he said he thought it was Gerald’s phone, and of course they swap minutes on their phones all the time. Gerald let him know that was not good and told us later that Livingston doesn’t give him back the balance when he is giving money to purchase items. Yet, Livingston is in charge of the project budget.

The orphanage doesn’t have power, so Gerald drove Liane and I 15 minutes to town on his motorbike. We charged my computer battery and laptop in a barbershop and sat with a couple ladies watching Sex in The City on a DVD. It was obviously risqué and their enjoyment could be seen in smiles and hidden giggles. A part referring to gay porn was fast forwarded.

The hairdresser welcomed us to town by purchasing a bunch of bananas for each of us at the shop next door, where we also got supplies to make pancakes:

• cassava flour 1200ugsh x 4 kg = 4800ugsh
• oil (500ml) 2300ugsh
• baking powder 600ugsh x 3 = 1800ugsh

Total = 7700ugsh…. This was enough to make pancakes for everyone the following morning. We made three large batches. Cooking over the fire with only 1 small frying pan allowed for 1 large pancake at a time, which had to be divided into quarters, as the only flipper was a spoon I hammered flat with a lead pipe. I mixed batter, poured and flipped…

Liane cut and placed bananas in each pancake… and Gerald’s brother served. We used less than half the flour, but everyone got some pancake. We didn’t have any more water anyway for making batter. The water we used was from the river, boiled—what   they always use… even though it is brown. I zapped it with the UV light Casey left us and hoped for the best. I would have taken all day to use up the rest of the flour, and we had a lot to do. The kids also ate the regular porridge.

I got my fill on just pancakes, but we were also served chapattis, French fried, pineapple, maize(corn), watermelon, oranges, eggs, hot milk for coffee, tea, bread, bananas, carrots, and honey.  At every meal we were treated to a feast, joined by the staff, but the kids didn’t enjoy the same privilege as there wasn’t enough to give everyone the same. All of these things and more, except for the wheat can be found on land owned by the orphanage.

We visited the pineapple plantation, fish farming ponds, and honey beehives, located a 30 minute drive from the orphanage. They show great potential for funding the project. Currently, they lack the machinery necessary to easily extract honey from the hives or a market to sell it to. Gerald said they have 300 hives, however these are traditional style that do not produce a lot of honeycombs. If they had more modern hives and the proper machinery they could produce a lot more. The board of directors put their money together to buy these two properties and members of the board can eat from them themselves, but the profit from sales is to go to the orphanage.

At the honeybee farm, I saw large zucchini and suggested we take it back for the kids to eat. Gerald said “no problem, we can take anything here.”  We took back three, which may have rotted if they were left there, along with a dozen rods of sugarcane. We had also taken a big sack of pineapples from the plantation.

On the way to our next destination, we stopped in to tour the site where Joseph Kibwetere burned 20,000 followers in his church on the eve of 2000 after taking their properties and possessions. We were told, he flew the next day for Great Britain where he is assumed to still live. In the ruined community house, we saw where people wrote on the wall with charcoal.

The messages asked that the souls rest in peace and that we not forget this place and the people who died there. Some messages pointed to the blue rooms there as being a prison. We followed the halls to a deep pit, where bodies were thrown (although the bodies had been taken away). We were told that we couldn’t stay long, as local authorities would be on to us to collect tourist fees.

A short time later, we arrived at a small community church where many children were singing upon our arrival—the orphans of Kibwetere’s fire. They greeted us as their hopeful sponsors and we were offered plush couches for the guests of honor, but we chose to sit on the wooden seats off to the side. I shot video of the kids singing and we all listened to the church leader express his thanks for our coming and gave a pitch for support.

I didn’t know there was another event for us planned after that, but he kept saying “I know you don’t have much time.” His hands flipped through a half dozen pages of notes. I gave him my business card and asked him to email me any message he wants to put out. I asked if they would sing a song I could dance to with my hula hoop. This would be a great way to get their interest, because if I just start talking they would be like –who the heck is this muzungu?

After a few minutes of hooping, I asked everyone to come together in concentric circles and then we all held hands. I stressed to them the power of the circle—which is symbolic of community.  With Livingstone translating, I spoke to the children, saying that if any of them have a problem or feel lonely they should go to their elders for guidance, because they were children once as well.

I couldn’t promise them anything at the time, but just wanted to empower them… “Just like this hula hoop is a circle, like the earth to which that we all belong… we may look different, but we are all part of the circle. The fact that we are white doesn’t make us smarter or more powerful. It doesn’t matter where you come from or what you look like, a person can do anything they dream if they are willing to do what it takes to realize visions and work in community.

They directed us to a group of old women off to the side who were weaving bowls out of reeds. These women were grandmothers who lost their children and were now taking care of their grandchildren. Gerald said that he buys these bowls and resells them to support the orphans. Liane and I plan to take some of these arts back home with us. If you are interested in buying them, get in touch.

The youth also made a lot of hand crafts out of local materials: dolls, a car, a cell phone, hats, and balls. We took photos of the kids and then were forced to get into the truck and speed away to the next event, an hour drive away.

We arrived after sunset to a hundred children racing towards us across an open field singing their welcome song. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life, honestly. I rushed to get my camera out of the back pack, but not in time to catch the excitement of the moment. A half hour of children’s presentations followed as the last light faded from the sky.

An amazing dance party, erupted and I had a great connection with a bunch of kids—the wild excitement in their eyes as we danced toe to toe, me crouching low, I felt like I wanted to spend a lot more time there to get to know them.

Africa was the director of the school, connected to a church also in that location. Gerald was the person who encouraged both of the churches that we visited to start the programs to support orphans as he couldn’t help all the orphans alone. Both of these church leaders told us he sold them on a vision, but that day we didn’t have time to fully understand that vision.

Africa officially greeted us and then I returned with a few statements— saying that this place was as beautiful as any place I’ve been, and the people are richer, because their spirits are so bright. Liane talked about how people around the world are the same, we all have hearts and we need to follow our hearts. “We want to bring more people here, who love children and have big hearts like Gerald.” I apologized to the children that we didn’t have time to get to know them personally, but promised we would come back to spend a lot more time there.

Africa then directed us into the church where it was pitch black. A lantern was lit, opening our eyes to a feast laid out on the table. As we started to eat, again I asked Livingston to translate. “When I see men pushing large bunches of matooke (plantains) up hills on bicycles… I think about what chance does this man have and how can he make a better living? Looking at all the fertile land… I wonder what holds these people back.

Organization and corruption it seems are big challenges. Everyone has a part to play, everyone has a role and this project can become completely sustainable when the resources it has are properly managed. Everyone can make a living when we all work together. It’s important for people to not get greedy.” Gerald said right after that, “I have liked your ideas. Every time you talk you have something new to say, and I love you for that.”

Then the minister of the church spoke and a choir sang for another half hour— most of which I videoed, holding a lantern in one hand and putting the camera up to their faces with the other to spread their song out into the world.

From there it was at least another hour, over winding bumpy roads at break-neck speed, back to God Cares. We arrived back to kids telling stories around the campfire and I cut up a large papaya that had been given to me by the orphans of Kibwetere, so that all the kids at God Cares could have a bedtime snack. Telling stories around the campfire is a tradition that they often do. I told the story of my Kayak journey, swimming with whale sharks in the Sea of Cortez, and living with the people of Roblito, in Mexico, who live a lot like they do.

I told them that I haven’t wanted to teach English, but recently realized that if they didn’t understand English they wouldn’t get to read all the great books I’ve read. So I believe that it is important that we develop the culture of reading at God Cares. I encouraged them all to study really hard, because that will help them become free and realize their dreams— not by relying on Mzungus like me.

“It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most percious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books. They are are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levelers. they give to all, who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and the greatest of our race.”  -William Ellery Channing

“Every man who knows how to read has it in his power to magnify himself, to multiply the ways in which he exists, to make his life full, significant, and interesting.” -Aldous Huxley

Norman, Liane and I slept in hammocks hung from the rafters of a classroom where all the boys slept together on bamboo mats on the floor. They all had blankets or sheets of some sort, and it wasn’t as cold there at night as in Bunabumali. We had to get up early to catch the bus back, but the boys wouldn’t be quiet to let us sleep. There was laughing and chatting… everything you’d expect at a huge sleep-over.

At 6am, Liane woke me saying “isn’t the bus supposed to be leaving now?” I woke Gerald and all 3 of us were on his motorbike 10 minutes later. We got to the bus on time, which doesn’t tend to leave until it’s filled up anyway. Norman had started walking, Gerald went back to pick him up and he joined us just in time. The bumpy early morning bus ride over potholed dirt roads was brutal. We were exhausted and tossed around. The whole 12 hour bus ride back was just not fun—especially near the end entering the city—where we were hot and breathing exhaust fumes.

I got a third of the way through the book by Napoleon Hill, Think and Grow Rich. I’m working on how to apply these philosophies to my life and these projects. There has to be a mixture of practical education and proper management. Nobody gets something for nothing.

“More gold has been mined from thoughts of men than has ever been taken from the earth”—Napoleon Hill

What we need to focus on now is creating a school there that brings together medical staff and green thumbs from around the world and across Uganda. This week we met with Florence from Success Africa, who has her Masters in management and volunteered to take part.

Moses and George from Randa United Farmer Group also met with us and talked about a community library project they are working on that has funding from the US. With them and many others, we will form an Action Hero Network here in Uganda to create collective consciousness and channel volunteers to where they are needed. God Cares borders two major wildlife parks where many large animals such as gorillas and elephants live, so we hope to attract people who will want to mix tourism with volunteering.

At the moment, Liane and I are at Makerere University computer lab rushing off to catch a bus to Mbale, where we will talk with Lawrence about creating a gathering of community builders at the Mbale Resort Hotel and the land they own on Mt. Wanale near the waterfall. We’ll camp in the cave near the waterfall tonight, and rock climb tomorrow. The kids at the Bunabumali School are now on holidays with their families.

We’ll spend the next couple weeks there working on projects… making swings, sewing hammocks, giving away free hammocks, creating an oil barrel oven, and a composting toilet.

Stefan postponed his flight here until New Years Eve, so we’ll be back around then, and pick up a solar panel to power water purifier we are taking to God Cares from Bunabumali. Hanging Hugs sales are being used to pay for this solar panel, but funds are needed for many other things as well, such as buying metal roofing sheets for the Bunabumali school to expand, paying for the rest of the cow we got which will provide milk, buying blankets for kids, buying vegetable seeds, etc…. so please show your support by purchasing one of these high quality hammocks in time for Christmas: http://www.hanginghugs.com

“My journey is at an end, the tale is told, and the reader who has followed so faithfully and so far has a right to ask what I bring back. It can be stated in three words… Concentrate upon Uganda.”  - Winston Churchhill (My African Journey)

This link below will take you to photos showing what I talk about above. I have many more photos sharing the rest of the story, but our net connecting is too slow and we don’t have time to upload now. I will let you know when they are posted. If you can’t see these…. let me know. Share this album with anyone by sending them this public link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=361726&id=906200533&l=420f9e5b86