I found an Indy hair in my lotion today a.k.a. I feel home

After the World Cup Final on Sunday night, Spain vs. Netherlands, two bombs went off in Kampala, more specifically, in White Kampala. The death toll hangs around 85; the people are saddened and suspicious. Ex-patriots fear targeting, while the Somalese terrorist group Al-Shabaab bears the brunt of the accusations. But when Peace Corps woke me up at 7am Monday morning, my first reaction was to silently plead: “don’t send us home!” Luckily our instructions were to stand fast at our sites until further notice, yet I had to ask myself how, after 5 months of uncomfortable settling in, setting out, wandering over and nearly sinking under, I could remain so obstinate in my desire to stay in Uganda. Well the explanation is clear; one has only to look to my new site: St. Thomas Secondary/Vocational School in Bunyaruguru, Bushenyi.

Making the 6 hour journey to my new site last Tuesday I experienced a pendulum of emotions. Anticipation, anxiety, animosity towards the past, apathy, agitation… Got any more A words? Chances are it was there. But I was taken A-back (man I’m good) when I found my concluding and enduring emotion to be sheer, tears-in-my-eyes, uncontrollable joy. Holy balls is Bushenyi gorgeous. If Uganda is the Pearl of Africa, then surely Bushenyi is a frickin’ 20 karat blood diamond. Pictures to come, patience is a virtue you know, but for now be content with this: Acres and acres of tea plantations and untarnished, protected jungle are interrupted by fathoms-deep crater lakes sitting at the base of rocky, pine tree-studded bluffs and rolling hills. So let’s see… Bushenyi could well be hailed as the capital of lakes, tea, honey, hills, cool breezes and bananas. Oh yeah, and Queen Elizabeth National Park is 10 minutes away; I’ve already driven past savannahs teeming with antelope and wildebeest half a dozen times (one being for the lone purpose of buying “the best smoked fish in Uganda” from a roadside stand at the river connecting Lake George and Lake Edward).

And who took me to pick out fish? Fr. Charles, the director of St. Thomas and my new roommate. The “WELOME HOME!” sign on my door said it all when my 6 hour drive ended; Charles has done an immaculate job of welcoming me to St. Thomas and Bunyaruguru. Not only has he opened his house to me à la the “what’s mine is yours” philosophy (more deets on the digs to follow; ps DWE that’s all the French I’ve retained…), but the intense 1. community leaders-attended dinner party with me as the guest of honor, giving my Peace Corps/personal history spiel via powerpoint presentation created with an hour’s notice, and 2. A speech given at Sunday mass… by me… to 400 villagers… in Runyankore… with an hour’s notice (what is it with the time paradox in Africa? No one seems to accomplish anything yet everything is last minute!) have been impeccably balanced by Charles with meals at stunning Queen Elizabeth resorts and jaunts with local university kids who reinforce my conviction in Ugandans’ intelligence and good humor. Just last night, in fact, I returned home soaking wet from a walk around the Africa Lake (it’s shaped liked Africa apparently; must climb the hills and look down to believe it) with Charles’ brother Peter, to Fr. Charles unpacking a new blender from his recent shopping spree in the nearest town. “Wanna make orange/pineapple/passion fruit juice?!” he goes. Heck yes! And I see you’ve bought about 50 or so oranges to do so. I’ll just forget about the part about me having to run run run (Phoenix, anyone?), taking shelter with some pigs when the rains caught us unawares a few minutes ago.

The best, yet somehow unbelievable, part is that something similar happens every day. I suppose I ought to give a character description of Charles for you to truly understand how awesome my life has become. Charles is a Ugandan priest who just so happens to be so ridiculously intelligent that he’s spent something like 6 years in the States getting two Master’s Degrees from two universities (St. Ambrose in the Quad Cities being one) and is heading back to NYC in September for his PhD. He returned to his home of Bunyaruguru a year ago to build a much-needed secondary school for the village. In that time, he mobilized the community to raise funds for the school, which now houses 150 freshman and sophomore students (called S1 and S2). Dormitories, a health clinic, and a second classroom block for juniors and seniors are well underway. I liken him to our dear Fr. Gavin in his station in the community: everybody knows him and everybody can readily relate an anecdote illustrating his benevolence. But this man is definitely quirky: he shipped 19 4x4x4 or however big boxes to Uganda from America before he left. What was in them? Dozens of books. Hundreds of DVDs. Thousands of rosaries. And grass seed. Man he loves American lawns! And now one sprouts on the side of the house. In fact, he’s out watering it as I sit here typing…

The second day I spent in Bunyaruguru, Charles disclosed to me that because he was treated so well by those fine Americans living in Moline, IL, he wanted nothing more than an American Peace Corps volunteer to spoil in Africa. Gotta love the pay-it-forward mentality, because spoil me, he has. Even if he wasn’t ridiculously accommodating, I wouldn’t find it hard to manage in his electricity-bearing, hot shower-yielding, stove and oven-containing, flat screen with DSTV-housing residence. I try not to let the fact that I harbor no guilt towards this weigh on my conscience. But honestly, what I care most about is that my room is cozy, my bed is big, the people are wave-and-clap-their-hands-when-I-pass-by friendly, the children are gorgeous (the Banyankore people have got some mysterious beautification gene it seems), and the computer lab I teach in is connected to my house.

So this computer lab… 9 computers, one of which doesn’t work, so 8 computers. I teach six 40-minute classes every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday; each class harbors 16-25 students, yeah for 8 computers. It’s a challenge to say the least, and that’s when the power’s not going kaput in the middle of showing them how to minimize and maximize a tab (I kid you not, that’s the kind of information that makes up my lesson plans). Although they battle to discern my accent and they’d prefer to swap witty banter with me about life, today I was filled with pride when Charles came home with a note written by the Head Boy kindly requesting that a generator be provided for the lab so that my computer classes do not have to be cancelled when the electricity disappoints. Turns out this is an appeal far superior to their prior requests for break snacks and shortened school days to watch the World Cup. So hopefully things continue to go well. But even when they’re not, and I’m storming into my room, blasting music to drown out my frustration at the deficient education systems and electricity grid, someone like Ndisiima, Charles’ housegirl, will be there to throw me a lifesaver, this time in the form of an impromptu dance party during which she wore my bike helmet and carried my stuffed dog (he’s a boxer and he sleeps with me every night) on her back like a baby.

Welp, that’s all I’ve got for now, folks. Pictures are truly forthcoming, as should be emails from you to me to which I will take an unseemly amount of time responding. Or can I tempt you with a novelty? Snail mail me!

Sister Renee Vuillaume
St. Thomas Secondary/Vocational School
P.O. Box 176
Bushenyi, Uganda

What's the name of my new village? Oh why bother I can't pronounce it anyways!

How is it that things have been changing so fast that writing a definitive blog predicting my future has been a head-spinning impossibility, yet I have been slogging through Cross Country Challenge style, knee-deep mud for 9 weeks now in wait of a new site? Even though these weeks has shown me that nothing is certain until it’s over, so this may be a touch preemptive, but I’m moving to a new site on Tuesday! Just when things were reaching their bleakest; that is, while I was packing up my belongings from my old site, ruminating over how the scales sat unbalanced, as I was sure I caused more harm than good, Peace Corps staff was out in the West, scoping out a potential new site for me. Well the prospective had budded into the settled: Bushenyi District here I come! All I know about my new site is word of mouth from Country Director Ted, who met with the staff there, and from my nearest volunteer neighbor, who actually found my site and recommended it to Peace Corps (not a bad start...), so some of this information will inevitably have to be amended post-Tuesday when I experience everything for myself. But for now I’ve hit that “I’m just so excited, all I want to do is share my life with the people out there in bloggerland!” stage. Ever been there? Yeah, me neither. But for serious, here are the deets:

After I spend the 4th of July sporting red, white and jorts on the Ssesse Islands in Lake Victoria, a Peace Corps land cruiser will take me and my 5 months of junk on the 8-hour road trip to my new site. I’m half serious in maintaining that three months of training was utterly useless for me. I was trained to work with businesses and NGOs, speaking Luganda; I’ll be teaching computer classes at a vocational school affiliated with the nearby high school (secondary school here), speaking Runyankore. C’est la vie. But this vocational school is somewhat of an abnormality: it was not built on a pile of cash from the Western world, the community raised the funds to spearhead the project themselves. This is quite unheard of in Uganda (and probably the rest of the developing world). The director of the organization is a U.S.-educated man, on his way to Fordham for his PhD in August. My supervisor and counterpart (both women) are the principal and a teacher at the secondary school, respectively. The vocational school is brand-spankin’ new, housing only a computer lab equipped with 10 new used computers, but with space to expand into other trades, such as cosmetology, carpentry and tailoring, as time and resources allow. My lodgings, while brand new, and purportedly cozy (read: small), but size is more than compensated for with electricity and a water tap outside my door!

I’ll only be teaching 10 or so hours a week (step 1: learn computers…; I believe I’ve been through 4 in the last 5 years, does that sound right, Mom?), and with the remaining 158 hours, I get to help my community with whatever their needs and desires so happen to be! It could be anything from nutrition to water sanitation; HIV/AIDS education to fruit drying. I am so seriously jazzed about the possibilities, I can’t wait to meet all of the villagers. Finally, and quite possibly the best part about my new site, is its location. According to volunteers, staff and Ugandans alike, Bushenyi is the most beautiful area of Uganda. My site rests between two lakes, in the foothills of the Rwenzori Mountains and a 15-minute ride to Queen Elizabeth National Park. Depending on who you talk to, I’ve been informed that Bushenyi has the best milk (!), honey (!) and bananas (!) in Uganda. I move Tuesday (I know, 4th time mentioned, so what, I’m excited), meaning I have 5 days to become computer savvy and Runyankore fluent. And I’m spending 3 of those days on an island in the sun with a boatful of other volunteers? Luckily orthodox island theme stands at “no worries” ("hakuna matata" for those kiswahili, Lion King fans)!

I'll keep this last part concise. Sentimentalities are my weak point. I apologize for the lack of continuous communication, whether by blog, email, phone call, snail mail, or ubiquitous facebook posts (hello Mother!); I've been all over the place, both literally and figuratively, for the past 2 months. Here's hoping stability reigns from here on out, and your relationships with me will be a lot less one-sided... Run on, runners!