June 27, 2009 (continued...)

Today was incredible. I just returned from our welcome ceremony/party at the Acholi Inn in Gulu. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this night. For, this was the night I met Irene. Irene is a student at Keyo Secondary School. She has only her Mother (her Father died 4 years ago). Irene is 20 years old and a student in S4. She is old for her grade, but that is because she took the responsibility of caring for her family after her Father passed away. Thanks to the support of Invisible Children and Schools for Schools Irene is able to attend Keyo “Displaced” School in Gulu, where she is the head girl. As I talked with Irene she shared a bit of her life with me, she told me part of her story. She told me of informal education and how her family as well as the people in her village used to sit around the campfire at night to talk about the knowledge they do not teach you in school - social skills, relationships, teamwork. She talked of how the rebels came one night during that informal education. When the footsteps of the rebels were heard everyone ran to hide. No one wants to be where the rebels are, for you will surely be killed if you cross paths. But there was a boy and his parents who did not leave, they remained by the fire. The rebels found them - they took the parents and chopped them into little pieces - they wrapped the Mother’s in a bed sheet and they wrapped the Father’s in another. An arm, a leg, a foot, a head... They tied the bundles together, placed them side-by-side, ordered the young boy to sit in-between his parents decapitated bodies and wait for their return. As soon as the rebels were out of sight the boy ran into the bush to hide. When the rebels returned they kicked the bundles filled with his parents remained around the fire. The boy was traumatized and rightfully so. Irene told me she was the one to go back to the campfire to find him, she told me she sang to him and by the grace of God he recovered to a state of normalcy. 

I couldn’t believe how open Irene was with sharing a story such as this. I was just about crying, but I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable - I held it in. And then I realized, that’s what she’s been doing all her life, trying to hold back the pain and the devastation. Trying to push back those memories and start anew - amidst all the despair. Irene said, “Before Invisible Children there was darkness, and now there is light- there is a form of hope that keeps me going.” No one in Irene’s family has ever had a formal education, she is the first. She is their pride, their hope, their joy. When I asked Irene what she wanted to do when she finished school she told me she wants to be a nurse and if she is unable to pass the test she wants to be a social worker. She wants to have a job doing something to help others. She told me she needs to go out and do her part to help those around her, because she feels that since she’s been helped she needs to take what she’s been given and share that with others. It warms my heart to hear her say that. As we talked we found that we have a lot in common. We both love english, running, and people. We both love our Moms dearly, we both like school. But she - she is incredible. She has been through so much, yet she is resilient, she has hope. Schools for Schools is funding her education, we can never stop caring - we can’t ever give up on students like Irene simply because we just don’t feel like making an effort anymore. She was so grateful and I know deep in my heart Irene will go far in life and she will change many people’s lives. She’s already changed mine. 

We visited Awere “Displaced” school today and it was arguably one of the worst schools I have ever seen. The roofs are tin, the floors dirt, and the walls poorly patched with wood that leaves wide gaping holes. This displaced school - meant to be temporary - has been in use for 18 years. In January 2010 the school will move back to its original town, but not its original site. Schools for Schools has helped to rebuild Awere and soon the students will be able to return! 

We stopped by a Market earlier today as well and I quickly learned I lack the talent of bargaining (but maybe it’s because I was trying to bargain with a woman that did not speak much english?). I ended up designing a dress on a scrap piece of paper and having her measure me. We’ll see how it turns out - should be quite interesting. I ended up paying 20,000 (Ugandan Schillings) for the fabric and 5,000 (Ugandan Schillings) for the labor of making the dress. (This translates to around $11 USD)

So far this adventure has been incredible, the people - outstanding. Walking on dirt streets, almost getting hit by boda-bodas (motorcycle taxis) is exciting. Walking on the streets as a minority is sobering and forming close bonds with people you’ve only known for a few minutes is absolutely amazing. In the market people stared, they watched, pointed, and waved. The word mzungu (which means white person) was frequently used. One man said hello after exclaiming “mzungu!” and pointing. He then put his hand to his face, stroked his cheek and said “You look very nice.”  I was flattered.  I saw a man walking in the market wearing an Obama t-shirt. I turned to him and said, “I love your shirt.” He turned to me and said, “We love you people too, you are welcome!” and then shook my hand. (In Uganda when people say, “You are welcome” they literally mean, “You are welcome here”.) The Ugandan handshake is unique and much more sentimental than any we give back in the states. I’ll have to make sure I continue the Ugandan way when I get back home. 

It’s extremely late here and as I sit in the common room of the intern house everyone is sleeping. Tomorrow we go to church! The service is in Lwo, I can’t wait. :)