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.