Adventures on the Swahili Coast.

Western Uganda is truly beautiful and I love living and working here, but for this ex-sailor it’s much too far from the sea, and for our two boys, who share their grandfather’s obsession with trains, then the absence of trains is also an issue.  We were all very excited therefore when we embarked on our once-in-a-lifetime family holiday.

It started as most of our trips do, with the now routine 6 hour drive to Kampala, followed by a chance for the boys to let off steam at the “softplay” at the shiny new acacia shopping mall.  As it was our holiday we also treated ourselves to our first ever family cinema outing – to see “Planes 2: Fire & Rescue”, in 3D.  Jonah helpfully slept through most of it, leaving the rest of us in peace to enjoy the film through 3D glasses (a new experience for us technologically backward rural dwellers!)  Then a morning taxi trip to Entebbe airport to fly to Nairobi, the capital of our larger eastern neighbour, Kenya.  The flight was delayed by several hours.  The notice screen kept cheekily reporting “On Time” next to the ever changing departure time!  By the time we arrived in Nairobi we were under pressure to reach the train station in time for the next stage of our journey, which made the taxi through the crazy Nairobi traffic jams more stressful.  We needn’t have worried.  Our 7pm train to the Kenyan port town of Mombassa was running late.  The train was there and we could see all the carriages, but there was no engine to pull it.  The first few hours were fine.  We got some food and the boys were so excited about being on a train station and hearing the horns of, or seeing other trains coming through the station.  There was no information, however, and when people tried to enquire the station master was found hiding locked inside his office!  We were pretty fed up by the time the train finally departed at 12.15am, but we put the boys to bed in our sleeper compartment and then alternated eating a late supper in the dining car at about 1.30am before turning in ourselves.  We got up to the dawn at around 7am and discovered we still hadn’t come very far.  The timetable has the train passing through the massive Tsavo National Park in the early morning light, potentially glimpsing the notorious Man-eating lions of Tsavo, who acquired a taste for the British and Indian workers who laid the railway tracks at the turn of the last century.  However, we didn’t reach Tsavo until gone midday when the searing afternoon heat drives all the animals under cover.  We saw a straggle of elephants and tow zebra from a distance.  An 18 hour train journey with numerous random stops amidst straggly bush is a bit of an ordeal for a young family, but the boys coped very well with their seemingly endless fascination for staring out of the open windows and screams of delight whenever we passed another train or vehicles at a level crossing.  Although again, there was no information from any of the train staff about our delays or arrival, they were very helpful at providing a free lunch as well as the allocated supper and breakfast.  On disembarking the train at 6.15 pm as the sun was setting, there was further excitement for the boys as our taxi embarked onto the Likoni ferry to cross the busy deepwater Mombassa harbour (into which most of Uganda’s imported goods arrive) and pick up the coast road that heads south towards Tanzania.  We arrived at Stilts backpackers, Diani beach and ate and went straight to bed, tired after our 35 hour journey from Kampala. 

It was all well worth it.  I’ve swam in the Indian Ocean before, but Diani beach has to be the best beach I’ve ever been to:  Perfect white sand lined by coconut palms on one side and a clear blue-green ocean on the other.  It was bright and sunny but not too hot with, a refreshing breeze but not so strong as to blast your skin with sand.  Stilts backpackers was a relaxed and friendly place with good food and friendly service and we soon befriended a German couple who were expecting their first child and seemed keen to spend time with our two boys and to seek protection from the persistent beach-hawkers through our ability to politely decline their wares in Swahili.  I’ve been fascinated by boats and the sea since I was about Sam’s age, so our five days on Kenya’s beautiful south coast were one of the best holidays I’ve ever had.  We took a (motor)Dhow trip from Shimoni to Wasini island and saw dolphins on the way there, snorkelled off the island and then visited the bizarre coral gardens and feasted on delicious fresh fish cooked in Swahili spices and coconut milk.  We also took a trip on a glass-bottomed boat passing over star-fish, sea urchins, moray-eels, sea-spiders and many types of colourful fish.  Whilst snorkelling over the same spot I also spotted a white and brown sea-snake, which thankfully wasn’t disturbed by my presence!  Bethan doesn’t share my enthusiasm for swimming in the Ocean, but she and Sam enjoyed a camel-ride along the beach, padding along in silence and admiring the scenery from a greater height.  Diani beach also offers kite-surfing and sky-diving, so we enjoyed watching other people float out of the sky onto the beach or rip through the waves behind a billowing kite.  Sand-castling was more suited to our age-range and budget however, so we kept busy digging big holes, making sand walls and collecting pretty shells, while others leapt from planes!

Notwithstanding these modern attractions, this coastline is in many ways unchanged from its long history.  Beautiful lateen-rigged sailing dhows still grace the coastline catching delicious fish in much the same way as they have for centuries, using the same boats and methods as Peter, James and John would have done on Lake Galilee.  The Swahili coast has its own strong cultural identity too, infused with the influence of Islam, and the complex legacies of the Arabs’ East-African slave trade (which although less talked about, preceded and exceeded the Europeans’ Atlantic slave trade).  It was a real pleasure for us to be able to talk to locals in their own language.  Our three years of studying Swahili in western Uganda has been frustrated by the fact that although many Ugandans use Swahili, they don’t much like it and rarely speak it properly, (the Congolese version prevalent around Kasese is notoriously poor).  In contrast, on the south Kenyan coast, we found that the “Swahili sanifu” (clean Swahili), we’ve been taught is what everyone speaks, and they love it when others speak it too.  Encounters with beach-hawkers, drivers etc, which could otherwise have been an ordeal or a haggling marathon became simple, friendly and even enjoyable when conducted in Swahili.  Whereas French people will often scoff at a Brit’s attempt to speak inaccurate French, no-one expects Brits to be fluent in Swahili, and so our efforts were encouraged and rewarded. 

We were relaxed, rested, well-fed and happy therefore when the 7pm train back from Mombassa to Nairobi departed bang on time.  Alas, it was too good to be true.  After half an hour we stopped and waited two hours for another engine to pick us up.  This second engine duly broke down at 7.30am in the middle of a sparse clump of scrub-bushes in the middle of Tasvo national park – not an ideal place to be stranded.  At 11am a third engine finally arrived to continue pulling us towards Nairobi.  At this point we were becoming concerned about catching our flight to Entebbe, as the apparently ample 12 hour gap between train and plane was rapidly being whittled down while we continued to stare at the same bushes.  No-one was telling us anything but we managed to find the train manager and he advised us to get off the train one stop before Nairobi, at Athi river, as the airport is on the South-East side of the city.  This saved us another hour and a half on the train, plus the time it would have taken to drive through Nairobi traffic back to the airport.  He also helpfully booked us a taxi to collect us from Athi river.  Nonetheless it was gone 8pm when we got off the train at Athi river, 25 hours after leaving Mombassa and with only 2.5 hours until our flight to Entebbe.  Another stressful taxi rush to an airport was then followed by another delayed flight leading to our eventual return to Kampala at gone 2am –  again 35 hours after leaving Diani beach.

 

So, would we recommend the Kenyan coast for a holiday? 

Definitely.  It’s beautiful, exciting, much more affordable than other tropical beach holidays, and more culturally interesting.  However, there is considerable political instability and some violence North of Mombassa as you head towards Somalia, so pick your location carefully and check the FCO website for current advice.    

Would we recommend taking the historic “Lunatic line” between Nairobi and Mombassa? 

Sam and Jonah would say yes, Bethan would say no, and I guess I would say maybe, but only if you’re in no hurry.  It’s certainly a memorable adventure, and you get to see a lot of Kenya in more comfort and safety than from the buses which hurtle at breakneck speeds.  The Chinese are currently constructing a new 1.5m gauge railway which will connect Mombassa to Nairobi and eventually Kampala, Juba (South Sudan) and Kigali (Rwanda), so maybe that will offer an improved service one day soon?

Sinking hearts and shiploads of good intentions

Sometimes my heart sinks.

Like when my laptop computer refuses to keep up with my typing or freezes in the middle of a large upload (like it is now!); or when I get followed by a group of secondary school kids on the road who start annoying my boys; or, let me be honest, when I see our gate open and a stranger comes in and you know it is going to involve a withdrawal from the Shrubsole ATM!

But sometimes my heart doesn’t sink, and that is what concerns me.

Like when I was with my dad and mum in the government integrated school where I work and dad saw about 5,000 books sitting on shelves not being used, with another four huge boxes of books in Spanish waiting to be bunged on the shelf with them.  My response was to shrug and say “that’s how it is and has been for the 18 months that I’ve worked here.”  Then dad became outraged at the waste and how much these books could actually be used rather than gathering dust and my heart began to sink twice: once for the fact that yes, it is a waste and these books should be used, and twice because perhaps I no longer cared whether the books were used or not!

Let me explain.  Last week Save the Children sent a delivery of hundreds of large boxes of books for the school to use.  “Great!”  you say.  But alas, the books are in Spanish and there is nowhere in the whole of Africa (except Equatorial Guinea, I am informed by my husband!) that uses Spanish and I have never personally met an African Spanish speaker.  “Teacher, are you using these books?” asked my dad, innocently.  “Yes, the children take them home each week to read” he said.  “Is that why they are so dusty?  They look as though they are not used.”  I could feel dad’s blood pressure rising!  I intervened: “How will you use these books, sir?”  I asked one of the teachers.  “I will just translate them” he replied, matter of factly.  “Oh, so you speak Spanish?”  I enquired.  “No.”  Ah. 

Then this week I was in the dusty resource room and there was another table being piled with books from America.  They looked like pretty good English text books but I looked at one of the chapters entitled “What does it mean to you to be an American?”  Very culturally appropriate.  Speaking of appropriateness, my dad’s favourite book that he found as he nosed around the dust was entitled (and I kid you not) “Pub Walks in Yorkshire”.  So, let me ask you this: if you live in Kasese, don’t read English, don’t drink and have never travelled outside of the district of Kasese, let alone out of Uganda, is it likely that “Pub Walks in Yorkshire” is going to be of interest or use to you?

Why have these Spanish story books, tourist books of Yorkshire and the like ended up in Kasese?  Only ‘we’ Westerners can answer that, and I invite you to do so, because we are the ones sending these books to Africa and we have as much to answer for as the recipients who don’t really know what to do with the things we send!  So next time we want space in our attics and we want to rid ourselves of a few dozen kilograms of things we have not used for twenty years, we should take time to think about where they will end up.  Which organisation are we sending them through?  Will the organisation teach the recipients how to use them and make sure that they are used regularly so that they don’t sit in dusty rooms getting filled with insects?  Are they culturally as well as linguistically appropriate?  Are they of a correct reading/developmental age?  Most of us have never knowingly sent inappropriate stuff to Africa but have you ever found out what happens to the things in charity shops that don’t get sold in the UK?  Chances are they are offloaded to Africa along with out-of-date electronics that are dumped in huge piles for street children to dangerously pick through; along with factory manufactured clothes that are sold too cheaply and put local tailors out of business; along with children’s story books about things and experiences that children here can only ever dream about.

It is very difficult, as a ‘consumer’ (and when did we become consumers instead of thinking, loving human beings?!) to know where the things we have finished consuming go but I reckon it is not impossible.  I’m preaching to myself as much as anyone else here that can we become more aware of where our rubbish ends up? … Because more than likely I’ll be rummaging through it at school next week!

 

Thoughts about sending things overseas:

Before packing something off think to yourself “is this the best use of space in a shipping container, considering the cost of shipping to a landlocked country?”  Think of the journey it has to make.  Some poor soul in a dreary office in the West is ticking these objects off on his list before loading it onto a ship where sailors brave Somali pirates bringing them to the East African coast.  They are then hauled in the hot sun onto dilapidated trucks which will drive for four or five days and probably break down a few times on dangerous and bumpy roads, being stopped every hundred miles by a underpaid policeman who wants to know why this African truck driver is carrying “A Guide to Pub Walks in Yorkshire” or a pink bikini or some other random item to a school in Uganda!  We could really save them all the trouble!

But how?  We could read the small print for the charities that we send money or items to, finding out if they are paying huge shipping costs for inappropriate objects.  Let’s ask our local charity shop what it does with things that don’t sell in the UK.  We can ask our local council what happens to the fridges and freezers that are left at the special electronics dump site.  And finally – support the local economy that does, indeed, sell pens, pencils and pads of paper instead of sending stationary miles and miles around the world!

There are many things that can usefully be used here, with a little thought, and the charities that we know to be competent and experienced at bringing useful items are Tools With A Mission (TWAM) and READ International.  I speak to myself as much as to anyone else when I end with this: Let’s make do and mend; walk short distances; don’t upgrade every season, and show the world that Westerners are MORE THAN CONSUMERS!  (And let’s not dump our old, used rubbish in the developing world.)

Not all Ugandans are...

All Ugandans are…….   All the Bakhongo (our local tribe) are…..   All politicians are …..

In three years of living and working in Uganda I’ve heard these three sentences  many times and with many different endings, including (in no particular order):  good humoured, lazy, good singers and dancers, very devout, never in their office, sexist, short, dishonest,  hospitable, homophobic, tough, hard-working, corrupt, generous, big eaters, always late etc.

Stereotypes of Ugandans are generally as inaccurate as those that all British people are stiff-upper-lipped toffs obsessed with the weather, or the growing opposite stereotype that Brits are promiscuous,  Godless, rude and often drunk.  When we look at the extreme examples we all recognise that stereotypes are not only inaccurate, but also often hurtful or even dangerous.  Yet in Kasese there is one stereotype I hear variations of repeated all the time, which is about government:  “these people are all dishonest”.  “These people have big words but empty hands”.   “They are lizards” (ie they nod the head vigorously but then do nothing). “These people only care about us when they need our votes” and sometimes just “These people…EH!”  followed by a tut and shake of the head.

Over the last 9 months I’ve had the opportunity to dig beneath the surface of some of these attitudes as we’ve been seeking some form of government support for the skills training project in Acholi Quarters, following the completion of the initial 2 year funding from BMS World Mission. 

In August 2013 the New Vision newspaper provided much fanfare to the announcement of  President Museveni’s new 265Bn Shilling Youth Livelihoods Programme.   This fund was targeted at projects which helped Uganda’s many young and unemployed (half of Uganda’s population are under 25, and most lack jobs) to be trained and equipped to start businesses and enter the labour force.  Perfect.   Except no-one could tell us any details.   Not the websites of the Ugandan Parliament, which ratified the fund in September.  Not our local MP who had voted for it in parliament, not the website of the Ministry of Gender, Labour & Social Development which would administer it, - nor any of their Commissioners, who didn’t answer their emails.  We were referred to District Government in Rukoki, a few miles from Kasese town, but neither the Chief Administrative Officer, (CAO) nor the Community Development Officer (CDO) there could provide the exact details of how to apply for this fund, other than to tell us that it was designed for projects such as ours that provided skills to youth, and that we might apply for up to 25Mn Shs (£6,200).  They also referred me to the CDO for Kasese Municipal Government (in Kasese town), a lovely and helpful lady, but she couldn’t answer  our questions either.  These enquiries dragged for months, during which we completed all the official registration processes for Kasese Baptist Association of Churches – Development Committee (KBAC-DC) to become an official Community Based Organisation  (CBO   which is like an NGO, but only operates in one district, and requires slightly less paperwork!)   As we planned the final graduation ceremony for our skills training project, in early December, we deliberately invited as many senior local government officials as we could.   The Mayor of Kasese Municipality officiated at the graduation where he publicly promised to support us in the future.  Early in the new year we went to see him and he finally explained to us that the Youth Livelihood Programme was in fact a programme of revolving loans, not grants, and therefore of no use to us at all.  He told us however, about a different fund from the Office of the Prime Minister (OPM) known as the Luwero-Rwenzori Development Programme (LRDP), which was created to fund projects which benefit youth employment in those two regions which were worst affected by the Ugandan bush wars of the 1980s, following the ousting of Idi Amin in 1979.  We had two days from the Mayor informing us of the existence of this fund to complete a proposal for the 2014/2015 financial year, which we did, applying for 21Million Ugandan Shillings (£5,000).  The following week, Pr Alfonse was hauled into the Mayor’s office to answer questions about the project and to be informed that the budget had to be re-written as LRDP wouldn’t pay any staff wages or food costs, but only for capital and material costs.  We did this and re-submitted a material budget for 12M Shs.  The Kasese Municipality CDO assured us that this proposal would have the full backing of local government as they liked our project and had seen that we “are serious” – a great compliment here in Uganda.  An answer was expected by late February.

Once February had been and gone, I started visiting various local govt offices every fortnight to see if any decisions had yet been made.  At the end of April we were summoned to the office of the District Planner in Rukoki.  When he turned up the District Planner was a smart and helpful young man who explained that he was delighted to inform us that LRDP wanted to help our tailoring project and would provide us with between 5 and 10 pedal sewing machines, at a public ceremony to be held soon.   We thanked him profusely before politely enquiring as to why govt was offering us sewing machines but not any money to fund the running costs of our skills training project – of which the largest are vitenge (local waxedcloth) for tailoring, and timber for carpentry.  He explained that there was great concern about corruption and that previous govt funded projects had received cash which had gone missing and therefore that LRDP would only provide capital items, procured by themselves.  LRDP had already purchased some sewing machines for the 2013/14 financial year for which we would be eligible.  Pedal sewing machines in particular are very popular here and we didn’t have enough (our partnership with Tools With A Mission has mostly provided hand sewing machines).  However, I suggested to the District Planner that if they gave us machines but no cash there was a risk that the machines wouldn’t end up being used as intended if there was no budget to pay for a teacher or other materials.  He acknowledged this and encouraged us to apply for support from the Community Driven Development Fund (CDD), which, he assured us, did award cash.  CDD is administered by Municipal Govt so we drove back to Kasese to the CDO’s office.  The ever friendly CDO there explained to us all the criteria for CDD funding applications up to 5M Shs.  We discussed the various items on our budget that would equate to 5M Shs before she explained that CDD didn’t actually offer cash but could only buy capital items up to 5M Shs in value.  We explained that the only capital items we needed were sewing machines, which LRDP would provide, but that what we really needed was timber and vitenge.  “Ah” she replied.  “Govt can only purchase items which can be inspected a year later (such as sewing machines).  Anything that would get used up (eg timber, cloth etc) is not allowed, because otherwise how can we see that you haven’t eaten it?.   Anyway, if you’re receiving support from LRDP then you can’t also apply to CDD!”  She then explained to us that govt rules prohibit any one organisation from benefitting from two different funds at the same time, which makes sense, but once again contradicted what other officials had told us.

Isaiah and I had a discussion over some figures and concluded that without external support it would be impossible to continue carpentry training.  The cost of timber, plus varnish, glue, nails etc makes carpentry training cost more than twice as much per head as tailoring training.  We would use the extra sewing machines to put on a bigger class of tailors.  More students would enable us to collect more student contributions towards the costs of staff wages, materials, food & fuel, with the balance coming from the remaining 5M Shs from the original BMS funding, which BMS have generously allowed us to roll forward.  Having made a plan, we now had to wait for the handover ceremony.  As there was no news, I made a point of phoning the District Planner once a week to enquire after the exact number of sewing machines and the date of the handover.  At the end of May, Isaiah received a confusing call to say that there was political interference from the local MP and that the machines were being re-allocated.  We were summoned to Rukoki to re-plead our case for the worthiness of our project.  The verdict was, yes we would still get support from LRDP, but only 3 pedal sewing machines not the promised 5 – 10, and still no date for the ceremony.  We would be eligible to apply again for more machines (but still no cash) for the following financial year.

One night at 11pm Isaiah got a phone call saying that we should be at the Municipal Headquarters the following day at 2pm for a handover ceremony.  We gathered at 2pm round the rows of plastic chairs and young men fiddling with loudspeakers which are the hallmark of any public function.  At 2.30pm a Municipal dump truck turned up piled high with pedal sewing machines which were flung down to the workers below, mostly surviving intact.  By 3pm there were about 50 sewing machines in a row and about 40 people patiently sitting on chairs, trying to find some shade and waiting for something to happen.  The “Big men” appeared in pick-up trucks with armed escorts and announced that there weren’t enough people present for them to hold the handing out ceremony.  Nonetheless they proceeded to deliver speeches about how govt aid is too often misused and that too many people complain that govt never does anything for them, especially in Kasese which had elected an opposition woman MP in summer 2012 (despite clouds of tear gas and rubber bullets to try and persuade them otherwise), which is why more people needed to be present to see this government’s generosity to the people of Kasese.  We were instructed to all return at 8.30am the following day with larger crowds of members and supporters.  Before we left, the govt’s MP for Kasese Municipality read out his revised list of beneficiaries, publicly chiding local officials for having previously used any other lists.  The MP’s new list had a significant number of individuals on it, as well as various civil society groups, such as ours.  As we left at about 4pm I sought out a friendly official who rolled his eyes at how “this has all become politics”, and clarified that we should aim to bring 10 people the next day.  Isaiah and I spent the rest of the afternoon driving around Acholi Quarter and other parts of Kasese town mobilising some of our former graduates and our teaching staff.

The following day we kept our word and were there at 8.30 with a dozen project staff or graduates, plus Bethan and Jonah to bulk out the numbers further!  An hour and a half passed and the numbers were beginning to grow, but then it started to rain heavily and some people dispersed.  The ceremony eventually started at about 10.45 with more speeches extolling the generosity and leadership of the President, the national government and Kasese’s local government, and reminding people, that votes for the opposition are wasted votes, because “NRM is in power, and people should accept that fact.”  The names were all read out again at which each beneficiary/group had to stand up.  At this point my neighbour explained to me who the individuals were – Local Counsellors and campaign staff for the MP.  There was a big photo taken with the dignitaries and all the beneficiaries gathered around an array of sewing machines.  Then we all sat down again and each beneficiary was called forward in order to collect their machine(s) and then load them onto the car, pick-up, motorbike or bicycle which they had come with to carry them.  It quickly became apparent that those at the bottom of the list risked getting the machines which had been damaged in transit, so very soon everyone was on their feet herding their sewing machines on to their various forms of transport and signing the contracts with LRDP which guarantee they will be used for their intended purposes.

I realise this is a long story and you may be wondering at the point of it.  It comes down to trust, or the lack of it, within Uganda’s political system.  It is not for me to allege widespread corruption, my limited experience is that the majority of the local government officials I’ve had direct dealings with are trying their best in difficult circumstances.  No-one likes delivering bad news, so sometimes expectations are mismanaged, but most local officials are glad to see organisations on the ground providing needed services and want  to support them.  However, they are hamstrung by the corrosive effects of corruption in other offices or in past times.  Transparency International ranks Uganda 140^th out 0f 177 countries in its Corruption Perception Index (Denmark is first, Somalia is last).  Any Ugandan newspaper on any day will tell you about allegations of corruption by officials at local or national level.  Today’s “Daily Monitor” headline says the President has decreed that Army Officers will oversee all agricultural projects administered by NAADS ( a large govt agricultural department), because “NAADS people have eaten enough money.”   Yet the army, although undoubtedly loyal to the President, also have a shady record with regard to alleged illicit sales of fuel and rations provided by donor nations for missions in Somalia.  

Those who are honest, and I believe that the majority are, have to work extra hard to prove their innocence in a culture of assumed guilt.  This lack of trust works both ways.  Because the people don’t trust their leaders their leaders have to go to great efforts, some more legitimate than others, to make them vote, as many people have become cynical.  Because leaders don’t trust the people, or their subordinates in lower levels of government, they create more and more rules and procedures to govern the distribution of govt funds.  These rules are supposed to prevent corruption by providing physical accountability, by ensuring that multiple signatories are required for anything and by requiring any groups that seek government support to jump through ever increasing bureaucratic hoops to prove their legitimacy.  The people who find it hardest to fulfil all these requirements are often those with the most needs, such as the illiterate flood-ravaged farmers in Congo Quarter, whom I’ve also been registering for govt support through NAADS.  Yet, as an official admitted to me, if the rules say govt can provide a tractor, generator or a sewing machine, which can be physically checked a year later, but don’t allow any funding to provide for instruction, maintenance or fuel/spare parts, it is highly likely that within a few years the item bought may no longer be in use, or even usable.  Furthermore, if an MP can still over-ride decisions made by local government, and award govt resources to his own supporters, then the system is probably still not water-tight.

This is not a time for other nations to think we are above such concerns.  As voter turnout continues to plummet in the countries which first established democratic systems and then exported them all over the globe, and as scandals such as the UK’s MPs or MEPs expenses continue to make headlines, we should all be aware of the damage caused by corroding trust between the people who make decisions and the people on whose behalf those decisions are supposed to be made.

We are grateful for the sewing machines we have received from LRDP and will work our hardest to ensure that they are used to best effect in impacting youth unemployment in Kasese.  We can only pray that others do the same.

http://www.transparency.org/country#UGA

 

Tuesday: My warm and fuzzy day - By Bethan

I am feeling very warm and fuzzy today.  Not because today was unlike any other Tuesday during term-time but because I love my work and I am so proud and happy to be doing it.
I go each Tuesday morning to Rukoki Model Primary Boarding and Day School (henceforth known as simply 'Rukoki') and run music therapy sessions (also referred to as Creative Teaching sessions as we do more curriculum teaching than a therapist would usually do).  I go with a wonderful and inspiring lady called Moreen as I am training her up in the work of special needs music therapy and teaching assistant work.  True, a year ago I was not overwhelmed by Moreen's ability to seem as if she hasn't understood a word I have said in the last half hour and to reply with a very blank and questioning 'yes?' (local meaning: 'what on earth have you just said?') but now Moreen has blossomed beyond recognition and she plans groups, writes up sessions and leads the children so well whilst also being a third of the Jambo café co-operative working 2-3 days a week there from 8am til 7pm and looking after her 4 month baby (with the help of her cousin-sister, another fantastic young lady starting her own salon and looking after Raymond to help Moreen!)

Moreen is great, but so are the children I work with.  Let's see:  There is A who may have global delay and spends most of the session trying to wheel the large wheelbarrow and ride the oversized adult bike around the classroom (why is there a wheel barrow and large bike in the classroom?  I do not know but I have lost the need to ask!)  We keep bringing him back 'on task' during which time he sings with gusto and beats the drum like there's no tomorrow!  He can come for cuddles or leave them whenever and is a lovely boy and somehow his attention lapses are so sweet and innocent that they don't make me mad.  Then there is H who has Down syndrome, but I don't think any of his teachers know what that is.  I couldn't stand him to begin with, truth be told, because he just came over to me and repeated the word "mzungu" to my face about a hundred times and yelled it through the window as we were doing other sessions!  However, once I had told him my name was Muhindo (local name far easier to work with than Bethan!) he began to relent a bit on the mzungu name-calling and comes over to help me with my bags as I arrive at school.  He dances with such gusto in the dress that I bring for a dressing-up/dancing/passing/turn-taking game and always tries to do the work we set him, sucking the end of his pencil as he tries to form his wiggly line into something resembling a letter s!  Our little star, F, is a girl who is actually quite bright and begs for homework each week from us!  She works hard at her sums and can write and read a little in English.  She speaks very slowly in Lukonzo as she seems to have cerebral palsy (no one is diagnosed officially here so she is 'labelled' by the school as "mentally impaired" and that's that) but she is so friendly and welcoming, picking up all the English songs singing with great difficulty songs such as "five little monkeys jumping on the bed"!
Then there's the group for the deaf students.  Oh my word, a greater bunch of students you could not hope to find!  There are up to 12 in the group, ranging in age from about 7 to 23 but they gel together in a way that I think hearing people wouldn't.  There are a few children who have just joined the school and are learning sign language quickly because the older ones are determined that they need to learn in order to get on in life.  They patiently (but not always with good grace!) repeat signs over and over until the youngest and newest boy has got it and they gives him a good old clip round the ear when he isn't paying attention!
I love it and I thank God for bringing me into the lives of these children.  And if you all think I'm being over the top and twee, remember, I do this once per week and the rest of the time I'm with my two little horrors!  Work is a break!  ;)

A small update.

It has been a long time since I have written anything and this is not going to be a hugely informative or exciting blog post but I thought I should update you on my favourite people from Kasese!  First up in Moreen because I am so proud of her and the huge professional steps that she has taken this past year in gaining confidence and skills.  Last year I was getting quite frustrated because it seemed as though she wasn't able to think 'outside the box' in terms of our 'creative teaching groups' at a special needs school.  But nowadays she comes up with ideas I wouldn't have thought about that really work with local kids and I'm so proud of her progress.  She is also showing her confidence and calm countenance at Jambo where she is in the difficult position of being in the middle of a long-running dispute between the two other Jambo ladies.  It has been a tough few months with the Jambo ladies' relationships but these past few weeks have made me want to tear my hair out.  Two of the ladies had a problem with each other and they were just not willing to talk through it or have any grace or forgiveness for each other.  We prayed and prayed that God would soften their hearts because we saw no other way of reconciling the two.  Well God answered our prayers one day when one of the women had a dream about the argument being about a spiritual battle over Jambo and finally agreed to apologise to each other and started making tracks back to friendship.  The atmosphere is still slightly thick and gloopy but Moreen coming back to work has helped the two to stick at the business and work on their friendships again.  Time will tell how friendships and the business will work out from here...
Noeline has turned a corner in her motherhood as Israel is finally chilling out a bit and sleeping more, leaving her more time to rest and work.  She is not getting much work locally because people in the area where she lives really can't afford hand-sewn clothes, the second-hand market cuts the prices of ready-made clothes to a pound a piece.  But she is living with a friend of ours who is in the same position of being a single mum to a boy, but she is several years ahead, her son being 8 years old, and they help each other out a lot.
Samuel had a 'fake' 4th birthday last week because his grandfather is here so we pulled his birthday a month early.  He had a fabulous time with about 15 of the local church kids coming round to play and eat sausage sandwiches and eat copious amounts of crisps!  Jonah has developed rapidly in the last week or two and now seems to be a fully functioning small boy who understands most of what we ask of him and can communicate with us in signs and sounds and also has mood swings like any other two year old!
So that's the latest, I hope you feel updated now!  Thank you for keeping us in your prayers.