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.

The Final Countdown

If Peace Corps were a marathon, I’d have approximately a third of a mile left.

As Madonna would say, “Four minutes to save the world.”

I think back on the other 25.88542 miles… To the site changes and new languages acquired.  To the first time I tried fried grasshoppers and used a pit latrine.  To the oath I took and the trainings I have been apart of to pass fourth knowledge and skills to fellow Volunteers.  To the camps and the Re-Usable Menstrual Pad workshops.  To the squished taxi rides and the sound of rain on a tin roof.  To the boat rides across Lake Bunyonyi and the mornings where roosters serve as an early alarm clock.

Time is ticking.

Today I have day two of our youth led workshops.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Friday I might have a vigil to attend to and a RUMPS workshop to facilitate with my girls.

Saturday I will begin to ponder about packing, go to In Movement for programs, and will hopefully kill a chicken with my kids for dinner.

Sunday I will get all of my Close of Service documents in order and visit In Movement my last time as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Monday I leave my side of Kampala to head to the Peace Corps approved hotel to close my bank account and buy gifts.

Tuesday through Thursday I will spend at the office completing paperwork, visiting the dentist, have my exit interview with the Country Director, and will finally gong out and become a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer.

I return back to my Kampala home on Thursday where I will spend the following two days packing, giving things away, and preparing for our youth camp. 

Sunday the 7^th, I leave Kampala with our In Movement Dream Team for our youth camp in Kisubi, Entebbe.  That will be my final ride out of the capital for this year.  I will look back on the smog-encrusted city with a sense of appreciation and thanks. 

Then after five days together with my favorite people and youth who have left an everlasting imprint on my heart, I will journey the final 18 kilometers to the airport where I will spend ten days in Cape Town and return back home just in time for Christmas.

Of late I have done a lot of reflection. 

I can think back to times where I was elated to be here.  Then there were times where I yearned to go home. 

I can recall months where I was busy with programs and others where I spent a majority of my time inside my house sweeping the dust, doing laundry, and watching seasons of How I Met Your Mother.

There were days where my youth were the only thing that kept me in a positive mood after being constantly harassed and discouraged. 

  

Often times in a marathon, or even simply running a mile, you get cramps and want to quit.  You question why you started.  You might even get resentful. 

I can relate.

Last weekend I was getting angry at the smallest things and I had to dig deep and see where these feelings were coming from.  Was I really angry at the place and people who so warmly welcomed me into their country and culture or was I angry and frustrated at the thought of leaving my home?

It definitely was the latter. 

I am finding myself annoyed with things that simply make Uganda… Well, Uganda.  I am annoyed because I do not know exactly when I will find myself among these situations again.  I do not have a definitive plan for returning to the UG and that makes me frustrated.  I cannot give my youth a direct answer except that; “Someday I will come back.” 

In the meantime, I have restructured my frame of mind to value these annoyances because no matter where you go and what you do, they will be there. 

And they too are to be appreciated.

Just like completing a marathon.

Or even a mile.

The Break-Fast Club Reunites

This past weekend brought together break dancers, beat boxers, and hip hop artists from Japan, Switzerland, Rwanda, DRC, Kenya, and of course Uganda for the Break-Fast Jam finals.

Hundreds of people filled the space watching for the trick that would top the rest.

Kids as young as eight years showcased their skills.

Graffiti artists worked on a masterpiece outside the space.

Beat boxers created rhythms that I thought had to have been coming from a disc jockey from behind his equipment.

My youth and I showed up at the event two hours late, which of course in Uganda was right on time!

We took our seats close to the center of the event, where we would be able to cheer on our favorite people with our pasteled posters as they took place under the spotlight.

The event brought together a variety of people, those of different colors and cultures, boys and girls, young and old.  The common denominator was hip-hop.  The idea that it can be used positively in society, to share messages and to unite people from rural areas to urban city capitals is what Break-Fast Jam is all about.

It was great to catch up with two of my boys, Fahadhi and Eric, who recently returned from California on a month trip to promote a documentary, Shake The Dust, in which they are featured.  We talked about In-n-Out, which they thoroughly enjoyed, the beach, and general life in the Golden State.

Fahadhi then went on to compete in the seven to smoke battle, which he killed in and won.  Third time champion in the house!

I still question how I got to be apart of this club.  How a girl from Novato, California gets to be friends with the best break dancers in East Africa.  How my UG friends are featured in documentary that showcase their story; showcase places that I have been to. 

I am grateful for these connections and friendships. 

Me and one of the b-boys who attended Camp LION!

I am appreciative for the way arts are used in society for positive, social change.

I am understanding of the hip hop culture, whose intent often gets misconstrued by others, and the ability it has to bring a sense of understanding and peace to a country that once was ravaged by unrest and war.