A week after returning from Uganda, I received this from Alice, my friend at Nkumba with the broken leg:

Hello Spring,

I am really very sorry for not informing you about the P.O.P application that was to be done that Friday when you were still in Uganda. The plaster was applied and now there’s a lot of improvement on my leg, the crutches were made and now I don’t feel too much pain while walking since my weight is carried by the crutches.       The money you gave me helped me a lot and I don’t know how to thank you for all the support you have given. In fact the doctor told me that my leg was going to be cut off (THEY WERE GOING TO AMPUTATE) my leg because of lack of medical care. But God brought you into my life to save my leg from being cut. I don’t know where to begin thanking you and where to end it, in fact am just speechless, I cant imagine there are good people like you in this world and yet you are there. Can you believe that I was going to have one leg if you had not come to my life? I thank you so much for being more than a mother and father to me. The P O P will be removed after 4 weeks which is good because by the time next quarter begins, I will be fine. Thank you so much for everything. How was your journey back to U.S? Hope to hear from you soon. Waiting for your reply.

Alice

I am planning a fundraiser to raise $2000 for Alice to finish school. If you’d like to learn more or participate, e-mail me at spring.courtright@babylegs.net

I would love to hear your feedback on this blog!

I woke up early, thanks to the rooster and my excitement mixing with sadness to create big butterflies in my stomach.

 Faisal picked me up at 9 am sharp, put all my things in his taxi, and drove me to the Imperial Hotel Botanical Gardens–5 acres of loveliness on the shore of Lake Victoria.

 The Clintons have stayed at this hotel twice and George Bush once. I’m happy just keeping my luggage behind the counter for the day and wandering the gardens….

 Faisal walked with me for a bit, telling me of his childhood playing outdoors and his counting of all 100 legs of a centipede once. I stopped occasionally to ooh and aah at the tiny baby monkeys, the enormous trees, the tragic beauty of dying Lake Victoria, and the giant, red anthills.

 Faisal then drove me to Entebbe the long way, so I could get the real feel of it and take a picture of the cattle with the ridiculously long horns, then dropped me off in the village shopping area. Thanks Faisal for being you. Good luck when you graduate from IT school this spring!

 I was amazed at the peace and comfort I felt within myself as I walked through the village market. I still heard the zzzzzzzzzzing buzz as everyone whisper-said mazungu mazungu mazungu as I walked by, but it didn’t bother me at all. When I bought a pineapple, took the machete out of the farmer’s hand, sliced it up into bite-sized pieces and left 2/3 of it for the people at the market, I was well aware of the absurdity of my actions in their eyes.

 But none of it bothered me. I am a visitor, but I am also at home here. If a Ugandan came to the Ballard Market and did something like this while speaking in Lugandan, we may look at him funny, too. I am a Ugandan Muzungu and I am at peace.

 Thank you to all my Ugandan friends–you have given me enough inspiration to last a lifetime. Thank you friends and Mum at home for watching my high-energy dog Cricket. Thank you BabyLegs affiliations for reading this–I hope it inspires you to be good samaritans locally and globally.

 And most of all, Thank You Nicole Donnelly and BabyLegs for presenting me with this opportunity. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I hope it has been as worthwhile for you as it has been for me. Your kindness and giving heart is being shared around the world and I will be forever grateful, as will many, many others.

 Uganda, you have a special place in my heart and I will do all I can to support your endeavors to pull yourself up by your bootstraps (or bare feet) to step out of poverty and into a healthy, educated and happy future.

It was another mind-blowing day for Spring Courtright in Uganda.

 Nangabo is another Nkumba University outreach program. I was told by my friends at Nkumba, “You MUST visit Nangabo!”

 Sarah, the director, picked me up at 9:00. Though I  had never met her before, we quickly slipped into a friendly conversation and by the end of our 45 minute drive, I had added her to my list of “People I want to be Like When I Grow Up.” I admire her quiet strength, intelligent mind, gentle heart and dedication to truly making a life-changing difference for people of all ages.

 Nangabo Vocational Training Institute is incredible, to put it mildly. I wish all schools were like this. It is a school for all ages, with primary classrooms to programs for community members. It arose because of a need and desire in the area for education and life skills.

 The two-year vocational courses are: Nursery School Teaching, which includes students assisting teachers on-campus, Sewing and Tailoring, Pottery and Craft Making, Horticulture and Plant Nursery Management, and Catering and Institutional Management.

I am in awe, again, as usual.

 Every student learns agriculture–how to grow your own food! For every skill learned, they also learn how to build the tools and where to find the materials locally and inexpensively. The pottery wheels, kiln, looms and other “machinery” is all hand-made. The teachers are internationally trained and do incredible work. The catering program had some of the best hospitality I’ve experienced in 2.5 weeks. The weaving and sewing skills are incredible (I bought proof). They work with women in the local area to help build their skills. They have partnered with Nkumba University for support–a brilliant idea. Instead of the typical 100-200 students in many rural school classrooms, this school has 15-20 students per primary school class.

 I couldn’t contain my amazement when I saw the loom–it is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen made by hand. The directors laughed at my open-mouthed awe as I watched the bullets of thread shoot back and forth to weave a gorgeous pattern, the thousand needles darting back and forth in a blur and pedals pumping rhythmically.

 I was also blown away by the beautiful water-cooling pots made by the pottery instructor. They are big, thick pots with three or four large openings and are used to keep water cool-how handy! I wish I could’ve brought one home…

 I could go on and on. I look forward to more brainstorming with these incredible women on marketing ideas for their programs and handmade items. I passed along information about the International Women’s Organization and Bead for Life, and I’m sure many other ideas will pop into this overactive brain of mine……..

 They are working on a surprise for BabyLegs! I can hardly wait to see it…

 Gratitude of the Day: be grateful for the women in your life.

BabyLegs became a member of the International Women’s Organization today!

IWO Uganda has about 200 members, 100 of whom live in Uganda. Local mothers and business owners, wives of foreign diplomats, wives of foreign workers, and women who’ve moved to Uganda after falling in love with the country on a visit or work meet weekly in groups for art, poetry, craft making, gardening, book discussions, music, bridge and Mahjong.

They all meet once a month for a general meeting, which happened to be today!

When I first learned about IWO a few days ago, what grabbed me is their efficient fund raising strategy:

1 Members put in an application to IWO to raise funds for projects in Uganda they want to support;

2 The application is reviewed by IWO board members;

3 If deemed fitting for a fund raiser, a team of women visits the project site to determine the details to make a final decision;

4 If the answer is yes, I hear they are quite adept at raising funds in support. They held an event called Small World last May which had the financial backing & attendance of many government officials, diplomats, a huge cell phone company & many others.

A member named Joan Mahalanobis joyously offered to pick me up at 9:15 am. I soon learned Joan does EVERYTHING joyously!

As soon as we arrived, she was surrounded by women. I paid her entrance fee of 2000 shillings ($1.20 US) so she could set up the microphone and we set up a table with crafts made by an organization which IWO is helping to support. I hope you see their friendship dolls some day…

The meeting was an interesting 2 hours. After general business, a member spoke who is a reiki healer and yoga instructor. She explained the basics of yoga and reiki, then stood us up for exercises. It was a wonderful reminder for me and introduction for many.

It was then declared Poetry Month, with everyone urged to do something with poetry–read a poem to a friend, write a poem, dance a poem, sing a poem. After finishing business, we were free to eat free goodies and peruse the craft tables, all of which support Ugandan programs with their proceeds.

After the meeting, Joan took me to her house for lunch and proceeded to whisk me around the city for the next 7 hours! She is a bundle of energy and is involved in so many projects it made my head spin.

Two parts of the day I must note, though it was all fascinating: a visit to Bead For Life, an international program with bases in Uganda and Seattle which very effectively raises money for Ugandans. (To read about it, go to www.beadforlife.org). I am so very impressed and plan to pass this opportunity on to some of the impoverished women I’ve met here.

The other part is a visit to two young men’s homes: Ronald and Derrick. The story is…

A small group of pre-teens were discovered standing along a fence longingly watching a brass band play at a school. They were all orphans and unable to afford school, much less instruments. A man, whose name escapes me, asked if they would like to play instruments. They all answered yes, and the next thing they knew they were given a place to stay, instruments and music instruction for a year.

They learned to read music, play instruments, and, more importantly, what life was like working together and living in a house rather than on the streets.

They have now been playing music together for 11 years. They call their band M-Lisada: Music Life Skills and Destitution Alleviation. Their non-profit, Music for Rescue, has 62 boys and 2 girls in their charge, all of whom are orphans. They work tirelessly to find gigs for the band and they practice every single night at 5:00 next to the local garbage dump.

M-Lisada eats once a day together, a meal of red beans and posho (maize flower and water), and the men only eat after they have served the younger ones. 27 of them sleep in two rooms with the feel and size of a garage, some on bunk beds with gnarly single mattresses and others on mattresses they bring in every night. Two sleep on each mattress. Their building is next to a latrine which cracked in the last rain and the lock on their door was recently broken, allowing someone to steel many of their pots and pans.

My mind was blown. As if it hadn’t been every single day of this trip…

M-Lisada’s vision is of “A Better Future to the underprivileged and disadvantaged child,” and their objectives are enough to wrench the heart out of the hardest soul: “To develop love, hope and skills in the street child that will enable him/her to find social harmony and peaceful co-existence in the community,” and “To reduce and eventually stop the abuse of drugs amongst the youth.” (I learned lost youth here often huff diesel fumes).

I eventually picked my jaw up off the ground and vowed to come to their practice on Saturday.

Gratitude of the day: be grateful for your bed, your home, your flush toilet and your meals….

I fretted all morning about my late lunch meeting with the factory managers today. I didn’t know if they had heard they would be audited, so even contemplated not taking them up on their offer to pick me up–my imagination was telling me wild things about what they might do if the were angry with me!

But it all proved to be senseless worry, as most worries are, and it was a pleasant enough lunch. We went to a delicious Indian restaurant and exchanged pleasantries until we finally delved in.

I had been very clear about my concerns at our last meeting: Where is the runoff going from the factory? Is your treatment plant effective for removing chemicals? Where do those chemicals go? How are you treating your 1200 Ugandan employees? Why are the samples not up to standard?

The manager didn’t flinch and was very informative with his answers. While I fought off my feelings of mistrust, which still persist, I was happy to learn that he’s interested in getting Fair Trade Certified and can see the business value in being a sustainably-minded factory. He just came to the factory a month ago and is attempting to make sweeping changes in the mentality towards sustainability, as he can see the growing worldwide trend towards organics and thoughtful business.

I walked away glad that I went through with the meeting and knew they would be open to having an unannounced audit–in fact they suggested doing that for my own peace of mind.

Their driver took me to a cafe, where I hoped to have a deep discussion about Uganda’s issues with either Valentine or an American woman I’ve been in touch with from the World Bank, but neither were available. I found my mind wandering to the numerous accounts of bribery and corruption among businesses and government here, and while I was able to see through this in most accounts, I couldn’t shake the sad feeling that this factory will not be held accountable–there is no minimum wage for Ugandans, and this factory makes the notebooks that every school child buys for classes.

I decided I needed to turn my brain off for an evening. I found my way to the Ugandan version of a mall, bought myself an enormous ice cream yummy called a Chocorama, and took myself to a movie. The movie (Vantage Point) was about the American president getting shot and a peace convention being bombed, which made me squirm in my seat until, of course, everything worked out all loveliness and heroes.

I had a wonderful conversation with my taxi driver, Faisal, who completed the lifting of the fog in my head and heart.

Thank heavens for Faisal and ice cream!

I think the world was playing a day-long April Fool’s Day trick on me today. I had a meeting in downtown Kampala at 9:00 am with my friend Valentine Ogwang, the Assistant Director for the Uganda Investment Authority (UIA), to talk about my Uganda experience and the factory for which I have my concerns.

I woke up to the sound of Mama Yummy and her assistants cooking up breakfast below me. I rolled over to look at the clock on my cell phone and it said 4:30 am. I was amazed that the kitchen staff started so early, but I wasn’t surprised–Ugandans don’t bat an eyelash at working 12-14 hours a day. I rolled over, but couldn’t sleep, so I got up at about 5:30 am.

It was a lovely, warm morning and I thought I would bring it in by relaxing on the porch in the sunshine. I was in the middle of painting my toenails purple and contemplating a cup of tea when someone came to tell me my driver was ready.

“What?! It’s only 6:30!” I said. “But madam, it is 8:30,” he said. I was panicked, of course, and ran to get myself together.

On the way to my meeting, I tried to call Valentine, only to find my phone was out of minutes. I asked my driver if I could please use his phone and his was also out of minutes. He was also out of gas, so at the gas station I went to use the pay phone…and it was broken! So I couldn’t alert Valentine and started sweating. I like “Uganda time,” where you can arrive within the hour and still be “on time,” but I still like to arrive on “U.S. time.”

Then, top it off, my driver got lost. At one point, when he asked the boda boda drivers which direction to go, they each pointed in different directions! I groaned.

But I made it, and the response to my concern about the factory I visited was met with an immediate response. Valentine sent in Jessica Okui Oleny from the Environment Department of the UIA, who promptly called the National Environment Management Authority who then called their district officer in the area near the factory.

The factory will be getting a surprise audit soon!

I decided to go back “home” (the Adonai House) and start my day over with a shower and lunch before my afternoon meeting at 2:30 pm.

I was halfway through lunch at 1:20 pm when I was told, “Somone is here to see you, madam.” (It’s weird being called madam all the time). My 2:30 pm appointment was 70 minutes early! I had to laugh at this grand April Fool’s joke as I shoveled in the last of my lunch and took my tea to visit my new friend.

Fred Musisi is a developer in the Kampala area who I learned about through Ivan Lumala in Seattle. He has been working in construction and development for 20+ years and I liked him immediately.

To make a long story short, since I’ve already made a short story long, Fred walked through the half-built Nkumba Women’s Health Center with me to help me determine costs, time frames and feasibility of finishing the building so the women can get on with the services the Center will provide (business training, health care, maternity support, a gathering place and a shop to sell their goods and, hopefully, make money to survive).

He was thorough and patient and I appreciated his taking the time to do this with me. I don’t know how, but I hope to help raise enough money to finish this building soon!

He said the building is in good shape even though it’s been abused by the elements for the past year. The old building was the original Women’s Center and provided preschool for the women, but an organization came in saying, “We’ll build you a new building! It will be better and bigger! Tear down the old one!”

So the old building was torn down, half the center was built, and the organization ran out of money. Nkumba University was left with a huge debt, an unusable building and the need to pay for a guard to watch the building 24 hours a day.

After meeting the women who benefit from Nkumba’s Microloans and Ruth and Grace’s dedication, I won’t sleep well until the building is finished…

Before returning home, I met up with the two students I had lunch with last week. Moses brought me his proposal for building a school so I could edit it and give my feedback, and Alice brought me her x-rays. She has a fracture in her leg and an appointment to have it fixed and get a cast and crutches this Friday. I gave her another wad of cash, minimal in comparison to what it would cost in the US, and vowed to cut out some of the small things in my life in order to afford to pay for her to be able to walk normally the rest of her life…

Gratitude of the Day: Be grateful you don’t live in a little village with scary doctors–or witch doctors–to heal your wounds, even if our doctors are outrageously expensive.

I met Mandy, a wonderful soul about my age, who works with Africa Child in Need to coordinate fund raising efforts and support for an orphanage in a village a few hours outside Kampala. She’s leaving today, so we spent a few hours discussing our observations of Ugandan culture and how Americans can fit into it without being intrusive or invasive.

We inspired each other and raised each other’s weary spirits. We also decided we’ve been an invasive species for long enough—it’s time to work with the concept of “Community Based Organizations,” where communities or local groups identify their needs and goals, then work together to communicate these to groups who can help them move towards these goals in a sustainable manner.

Easier said than done! Everyone here is in need of help in some way—help for friends, help for themselves, help paying for school fees, help putting a roof on their house….

Identifying one or two programs that are working and supporting them through educational/financial and other means seems to be the best way to not get overwhelmed.

Gratitude of the Day: Be grateful if you have a job description! Forging ahead in this developing country is a challenge, albeit an exciting one, that sometimes elicits a strong desire to have a desk job.

But that goes away as soon as a little Ugandan smile reaches across the street and into my heart…

I spent Saturday morning reading and relaxing at the Backpacker’s Hotel in Kampala. I took a loooong walk into a sleepy village nearby and then met up with two American friends I made earlier in the trip.

We’d been dying to hear some Ugandan music (everyone plays bad 80’s music here!) and the Afrigo band at Club Obligato is supposed to be one of the best Ugandan bands around.

We thought music started at 8:00 pm, but we were the only people at the club, save the staff, until about 9:30 pm! We learned they were supposed to start around 10:00 pm. We then waited until midnight for the band to start. We learned upon leaving (before the dancing really began) that the band had been delayed. But we vowed to go back and a staff member said we could get in free next time.

Sunday was full of my very long walk into downtown Kampala for reliable Internet service. It was an adventure during which I felt I slipped into the pace of Ugandan life—slow and steady. My feet were covered in red dirt when I arrived “home” and I slept like a baby.

I was the only white person around ALL day except for at the Internet café.

On my way home two teenage young men fell into step with me about 1 km from my hotel. They proved to be wonderful walking partners—curious about everything in the American culture, intelligent, well-educated and funny, funny, funny!

They walked me to my hotel and showed me the Ugandan handshake, and then we sadly parted ways after exchanging e-mail addresses. Andrew and Timothy—I’ll miss you! I hope you make it to the U.S., but that you return to run the government the way you know it should be run…

Alice limped her way about 500 kilometers from her village to “mutatus” (old Toyota van group taxis) to Nkumba University—to have lunch with me today.

We’ve been in touch since the last time I was in Uganda (March 2007). I knew of her parents dying from AIDS, her extended family deciding not to pay for her last 1.5 years of University and her hurt leg, but I had no idea how badly her leg was hurt or how far she had come to go to school.

After a wonderful lunch conversation with Alice and Moses, another student struggling to pay to finish school, I walked Alice down the street to catch a taxi. I realized her leg was hurting terribly and that maybe her leg had been broken in a “boda-boda” (motorcycle taxi) accident three months ago. When I asked if she had any kind of walking assistance at home, she said, “I had a stick, but it broke.”

I squeezed into her hand enough money to pay for the best hospital in town to give her x-rays and crutches. I asked her to go as soon as humanly possible and call me with the results.

I had to work hard not to sob as I walked away. I cannot believe the struggles going on inside every single person I meet here, yet they show so much kindness and love to me.

Moses, the other student, was also an inspiration with his well-written proposal for a school in his village. I said I would read it over for him, edit it and give my feedback–I was so impressed! Nkumba really harbors some incredible minds.

I went to a fantastic social science class last night. I tried to slip in unnoticed so I could quietly observe, but I was asked to stand up and talk about myself before and after the class. I was also told at the end, after a lovely thank you, that if I am to help people here get an education in the United States, please ensure they come back to share the education with Uganda—understood and noted!

Thank you Mr. Busuulwa and Noah for arranging to get me home safely—I feel so well taken care of here. I doubt a mazungu in Uganda never had it so good…

I awoke to this text message on my phone on Saturday morning, from a student I met at Nkumba:

Äs de sun rises , I get to know how beautiful de world is, but as it sets I get to know better how caring you are! Luv u always, may God bless you. Esther.

I only talked with her for a few minutes, but I also talked with many other students, teachers, deans, librarians, and affiliates of Nkumba University–the word is out that a Mazungu in America brings BabyLegs and good business practices!

This, coupled with being called a “Ugandan Muzungu” have helped me ease into my third week here feeling comfortable with life in Uganda.

Good news–An environmental organization will be auditing the factory I was concerned about. I meet with the factory owner tomorrow, so it’s a bit of an uncomfortable situation, but if that’s all it takes to ensure the health and safety of the thousands of people downstream along the Nile, then it’s well worth it.

I apologize if the formatting isn’t the best for these blog entries–the computer just doesn’t want to put paragraphs in some entries.Thank you BL for sponsoring this trip….