That’s All Folks

Attempting to compose my last words as a Peace Corps Volunteer is difficult.

More difficult than I imagined.

I vividly remember walking off the plane at Entebbe Airport on the evening of May 24, 2012 and taking in the scents of my new home… Burning trash, fresh trees, and a crispness from Lake Victoria.  I vividly remember days in country, from my language proficiency interview and my first Peace Corps camp to meeting my In Movement youth and walking down The Annex stairs for the last time.

This is my last post as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Uganda and articulating these last words are the hardest to write.  It is a time that leads to self-reflection and lessons learned in country.

Recently, reflecting has given me anxiety as it serves as a constant reminder that this experience is coming to a close.  The light at the end of the tunnel, which was once barely existent, is now so blinding that I need my sunglasses.

For anyone who has researched Peace Corps, chances are you have come across the quote, “The toughest job you will ever love.” 

I know, I know.  This sounds corny and clichéd. 

But once you spend two-plus years in a place, you can begin to identify a trend of feelings.  My time spent in the UG was filled with self-doubt, questioning, frustration, illness, and personal losses.  My time spent in the UG was also filled with boosts of confidence, validation, patience, healthy immune systems, and personal gains.  I have learned how to make the most from a little, how to remain flexible when things do astray, and how to genuinely smile when it seems as if everything around you is beginning to crumble.

You have to remember that my service in Uganda was not a vacation.  It was a 2-year commitment.  It was where I established my home and work.  It was where I discovered what I want to do long term.  It was where I underwent a transformation. 

Uganda will continue to challenge me.  Ugandans will continue to challenge me.  An example from one of my favorite youth, “Abortion is never to be committed.  Even if a man defiles his niece, she has to keep the baby.  There is no question.”  Conversations such as these remind me that after 30-months living here, it is all right to not understand certain facets of this culture. 

I know that someday I will come back to Uganda.  It may be to play tourist and see the places I failed to get to this time around.  It may be for a job.  It may be for one of my kid’s weddings. 

I look forward to the developments made… The new skyscrapers that will find home in the Kampala skyline and shops that have found their place along the potholed roads in Kitgum.  I look forward to my youth and the strides they have made in achieving their goals. 

I have gained unfathomable amounts of knowledge from Ugandans, including how to make a hand washing station out of sticks, a bucket, and banana fibers. 

I have learned an infinite number of lessons… The true meaning of a community, how to be committed and dedicated in ones faith when others tell you the contrary, how to be humble, and looking at ones surrounding and seeing solutions instead of problems.

As I wrap this up let me do one last reflection as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Three things I will positively remember from my service…

1: Smiles from passing faces, familiar or not

2: Traditional dances, food, and songs

3: Boat rides on Lake Bunyonyi

Three things I will not miss from my service…

1: Ugandans thinking they know all about America simply from watching films

2: Treated as a subordinate because I am a strong and independent woman

3: The exorcism screams that come from the neighboring churches at 3a

To everyone, both in the UG and in the US… Thank you for the support over the years.  Thank you for the packages and the prayers.  Thank you for the emails and the phone calls.  Thank you for the letters that made the 9,697.97 mile journey. 

Thank you Uganda for your open arms and warm, Equatorial welcome.  I will never forget this journey… For it’s been one hell of a ride.

30 Months Later

As of today, December 4th, 2014, here are some numbers that make up my time spent as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Uganda.

Number of days spent in Uganda: 926

Number of days left in Uganda: 8

Total number of days spent in Uganda by the time I depart: 934

Number of hours it took to travel from New York to Entebbe: 24 hours, 25 minutes

Number of hours it’ll take to travel back home to California from Cape Town: 28 hours, 40 minutes

Number of miles from Entebbe to San Francisco: 9,374.88 miles

Number of nautical miles from Entebbe to San Francisco:  8,145.78 miles

Time difference between California and Uganda: 10 hours; 11 when the States fall back

Latitude and Longitude of Kitgum: 0.3533° N, 32.7553° E

Number of malaria prophylaxis pills taken: 558

Number of times I had to test myself for malaria: 1

Number of times I’ve crossed the Equator: 38

Number of sites I’ve had: 4

Number of regions I’ve lived in: 3

Number of camps I’ve been involved in: 10

Approximate number of packages received: 20

Number of people in my CHED training class, May 2012: 45

Number of people in my CHED training class, March 2014 at COS Conference: 36

Number of pedicures received in country: 7

Approximate number of liters of water drank daily: 4

Number of minutes to walk to my closet PCV in Kitgum: 45

Approximate amount of music acquired: 30GB

Approximate amount of entertainment acquired: 660GB

Average cost of a hotel room that your average Peace Corps Volunteer stays in: $8

Number of jerrycans waiting to be filled at the borehole during dry season: 33

Number of languages spoken in Uganda: 54

Number of local languages I’ve learned enough to carry on a brief conversation: 2

Number of ways I can say “Thank You” in Uganda: 5

Cost of local lunch: $1.40

Number of Olympic medals won by Uganda: 2

Number of journals filled during service: 2

Number of books read: 59

Number of blog entries posted: 224

Average monthly Peace Corps salary: $275

Uganda’s place in the world for highest birth rate: 3^rd

Uganda’s rank in the world for highest number of youth: 2

Number of times the SF Giants have won the World Series since I have arrived in the UG: 2

Number of hours to reach the country’s capital, Kampala, from my site in Kitgum: 12

Length of time to reach the Peace Corps office, a mere 8.8 kilometers away in Kololo, Kampala from my site in Kansanga, Kampala using a public taxi: 1.5 hours

One-way cost of transport to make the 273-mile journey to Kampala from Kitgum: $12

Number of lizards I’ve lived with at any given time: 4

Number of rodents I’ve lived with: 3

Number of dead cockroaches found in my house: 11

Number of geckos that have fallen on me: 3

Number of MacBook Pro chargers I’ve gone through: 2

Cost of a soda in a glass bottle: $0.40

Cost of soda in a plastic bottle: $0.80

Number of local names I’ve been given: 2

Number of grants written and approved: 3

Number of passengers legally allowed in a matatu: 14

Number of passengers I’ve shared a matatu with, excluding babies and small children: 29

Number of hours left in my service: 8

Number of days left in my service: 0

Too Much to Do

There are days in my service where the furthest I left my house was to use the pit latrine or burn my trash… Approximately 10 meters away in either direction.

Then there are days in my service where I schedule myself from early morning to late evening.

The perfect example being today.

I woke up with the sun at 6:34a with Volunteers in my house from the Thanksgiving meal we had prepared.  After a cup of tea, a leftover piece of apple pie for breakfast, and an episode of Homeland, five of my female youth met me at my house.  We headed to In Movement to prepare for a RUMPS workshop we were facilitating at a dance organization in the slum of Kabalagala where one of our facilitators works.  After helping to develop lesson plans, we were on our way.

As the time goes on, my girls continue to impress and surprise me with their facilitation abilities.  When we arrived to the venue they all of a sudden became nervous and after a Mama T pep talk, they were ready to take on their role.  They entered the space with an open heart and assessed how to best organize the workshop.  Two of them led name games, a group song, and basic information about menstruation and the menstrual cycle while myself along with the other three cut out all of the necessary materials.  My girls supported one another, helping to jump in when one would get stuck.  As we left, words of appreciation were exchanged.  Devis, the In Movement facilitator who also works at this organization, is incredibly invested in this program and wants to see it continue with my youth leading the way.

Sustainable program?  I think yes!

As my girls made their way back to In Movement, I headed with Devis to Makerere University to attend the funeral service of our Program Manager’s uncle, who served more like her father.  Due to the average Kampala traffic jam, we made sure to leave an hour early, all for a place that theoretically should take 18 minutes to arrive at. 

It took us 88 minutes.

The church was bursting at the seams.  People crowding at the doors and peeking through the windows.  The funeral home that was coordinating the event put out chairs for us under a tree, shading us from the sun, and even organizing a speaker and television screen so we could hear and see what was happening inside.  The service was beautiful, with people sharing stories and remembering the great life that the late Bernard had lived.

 I ended up leaving at hour three of the six our service due to the heavy rains that made me feel like a soaked sponge that could no longer absorb water.

I made it home in time to wash my dirty feet and change into warm clothes to meet Grace and Maria, the dynamic sister duo of In Movement, in town for an art and music show that we were invited to by Ife, another talented facilitator of In Movement.

We danced, drank, ate, talked, and just had a genuine good time together.  We were candid and swapped stories.  We cheered as Ife took the stage.  We stared, wide eyed, as the male models strut their stuff.  We talked about the past, present, and future.  The night spent together made me truly feel apart of a family… Something I have been missing.  Now do not get me wrong.  I have my youth family and my Peace Corps family but in most of these cases, I am the eldest, whether it is by my age or the time spent in country.  I am the one who has to, or rather want to, take care of others.  Tonight though… I got to be the baby.

At the clock ticked close to 11p, it was time to head back home.

Time to breathe in some peace and quiet.

Time to close the day with how I started it… Albeit with a slice of pumpkin pie, while also watching Homeland.

Full of Thanks

And chicken, and pie, and stuffing.

Today marks a day where family and friends gather around the table to pay thanks. 

It is a day that kick starts the holiday season, although I am sure Macy’s and Costco have had decorations displayed and priced since before Halloween.

It is a day that I get to remember all that I am thankful for… The USA, Uganda, my American friends and family, my Ugandan friends and family, American football, Ugandan football, American time, running water, hot water, and down pillows.

It is day, that when surrounded by fellow Volunteers, we get to reflect on what truly makes us happy and thankful, especially while living in a foreign place that we call home.

It is a day where we are reminded that no matter the month or year we arrived, whether we are 2-weeks into service or 2-years, we are each other’s family.  Long lost brothers and sisters reunited.  That one married couple everyone looks to as Mom and Dad.  And then you always have that crazy Uncle.

To celebrate my third Thanksgiving in Uganda, I helped coordinate an 80-person meal that was taking place at the office on the other side of town.  The new education cohort arrived to country just over 2-weeks ago and to ensure that they got what many consider to be a traditional American Thanksgiving, we have been slicing, dicing, and taste testing.

This was also a great way to share our traditions with the host country staff.  Goal three!

I have been hosting three other Volunteers at my house since Monday and three days later we finally were able to produce a myriad of dishes… Chicken in a tasty garlicky, tomato marinade, stuffing, green bean casserole, corn bread, 12 pies, mashed potatoes, jello, which was more like a punch, and an attempted sweet potato and pumpkin casserole with toasted marshmallows but the sweet potatoes somehow spoiled over the course of 10-hours. 

It was not the end of the world… We have enough carbohydrate options.

We served, shared stories, listened to beautiful Native American music played by one of the Trainees, and as I looked around, I could easily have mistaken us for a giant, dysfunctional, loving family.

As we cleaned the space and the vehicle was ready to take us to our next destination, the movie theater to see The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1, I looked at some of the familiar faces of the Volunteers and realized this would be the last time I saw them until they returned to America.

I was overwhelmed with emotion, as I am not the best with goodbyes and “see ya laters”, so I simply started to walk away until they all started calling my name.

The hugs commenced and tears began to stroll down my face, leaving streaked mascara under my sleep-deprived eyes.  Words of encouragement, memories, and thanks were exchanged. 

I had made it.

That was until my favorite Mentee, Jenna, and I exchanged our final hug. 

This girl is a rock star.  She is resilient, caring, genuine, and has the most beautiful soul I have ever seen in another person.  I long to embrace those qualities and respect her more than she will ever know.  I am beyond confident in her future not only as a Peace Corps Volunteer but also as a young woman ready to conquer what the world gives her.

Just when I thought the tears were dry, I come home to this Facebook message from one of my youth, Jeff.

“Thanks for the leadership summit that you started with Tush.  It really gave me a go a head and got me there and now I feel like I have found my worth.  Thanks again Tara.”

I am not sure if he knew today was Thanksgiving but this was the perfect ending to a thankful day.