Reverse Culture Shock

Things I noticed/ dealt with upon returning to America:

• Seeing a myriad of colorful faces
• My skin complexion no longer being the majority
• Drinking the tap water
• Brushing my teeth with the water
• Not having to wait 20 min after turning on the water heater to have a warm shower
• Flying over mansions with their own pool & tennis courts and thinking about the concept of necessary space to live comfortably 
• Riding to the New York airport in a taxi with just me…and paying $35 for the taxi
• Understanding everything people say
• Being able to use my cell phone everywhere
• Feeling the need to reconnect on social media
• Not saying hello to everyone I pass/ not having them speak to me
• Paved roads
• Missing natural beauty because we walk around on a mission

Solo Traveler

Changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace

I had a 10 hour layover in London so I decided to explore the city since I’ve never been. I had never traveled alone in a foreign city before so I was nervous, but determined. While in the Entebbe airport, I looked some things up about how to navigate London, but of course none of it was applicable because once I arrived I discovered that the tube (subway) drivers were on strike. Instead, I had to take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station and then figure out the bus system. A nice older British gentlemen who now lives in Texas sat next to me and told me which bus to take from there.

In front of Buckingham Palace

In front of the London Eye

Big Ben

With my map in tow, I found my way to Buckingham Palace. In fact, I happened to get there just in time to see the changing of the guards! I then found my way to Westminster Abbey and Big Ben. By then I was starving and walked into a nearby pub for lunch. Of course I had to order Fish and Chips…when in London. I happened to sit next to two women from Columbus, what are the odds!? Afterwards, I took a 45min river cruise to see the London Tower, all the major bridges, and some other historical buildings. I was mostly glad to be sitting. 

Earlier at the restaurant, I was able to use their wifi to download a bus app and get the directions back to Paddington Station. Despite having the directions, I was nervous that I had gotten on the wrong bus, but thank God I did it! It felt so good to successfully navigate being a solo traveler. It was liberating just knowing that I could do it. It was a short, but wonderful experience. I would definitely like to come back to London someday and experience more of the famous city. 

Until Next Time,

*Nicole 

On the river cruise

The 6 Hour Journey

Last day with my class

What a beautiful last day I had. Blue skies, warmth, and sunshine dawned Kaihura. I woke up for breakfast to say goodbye to the team before they left for work. It was nice to hear that they enjoyed me being there and felt like I was valuable in helping them navigate the transition into life in Uganda. I’m glad they were so willing to receive advice. After they left, I hung around the house, helped wash the socks, finished getting my things together, and decided what i’d leave behind. I enjoyed spending my last hours with all the different people that work within the compound. For lunch we had millet, a traditional Ugandan dish. I remember disliking millet last time, but it was surprisingly pretty good. Maybe it’s because Agnes is such a great cook! It was perfect to have something so authentic before leaving. 

Laundry on the last day

Around 2:30pm Steven and I headed to town to wait for the bus to Kampala. He teased me for it, but I was adamant about taking the bus and not a matatou (taxi van) because I wanted to have my own seat for the 4 hour trip. 1 bus passed us, but it was full. Many matatous passed, but I just didn’t want to do it. The matatous are packed with as many people that can possibly fit and they stop frequently to pick up and drop off passengers. I wasn’t too worried because I had given myself plenty of time (I thought). We sat and sat and sat. Steven started to get anxious so I agreed to take whatever came next and wasn’t full. I then prayed real hard that it was a bus!

Millet

A little before 4pm, a full matatou stopped. My friend William and I laughed because we just knew that wasn’t the one we were going to take. Steven went to talk to the conductor and then waved for me to come on. My heart dropped and all types of thoughts about how bad the trip would be raced through my mind. We got in and I had to share a foldable seat with another girl. It was a 15 person van…we had 19 people. We stopped frequently and the driver drove fast, dodging trucks, cars, motorcycles, and people. At one stop, 5 people were getting on to go to Kampala. Of course I didn’t see any room, but they somehow got in. We waited there for about 15 minutes. I wasn’t sure what was going on because Steven and I were in separate rows, but the other people in the van were getting upset shouting at the driver and conductor out the window. One man kept hitting the side of the van to indicate “Let’s go!” I couldn’t understand the language, but I knew they were ready to go and so was I! I later found out that we had been waiting for another person in that party of 5, but he wasn’t ready so we ended up leaving him behind. 

About 30 min into our journey, the 2 people sitting up front with the driver got off and Steven motioned for me to join him in the front. That was the deal he had made with the conductor back in Kaihura, that we could have the 2 coveted front seats when the other people got off. They never put more than 2 people up front with the driver, I think it’s to more easily get past police check points without them realizing the van is indeed overcrowded. I was so thankful. We had tons of space up front! (Or maybe Africa has skewed my idea of spaciousness) We had great conversation and the ride as a whole wasn’t bad. I’d actually recommend it, BUT you must sit up front. 

Steven's son Joachim is a Duke fan too!

Half way through the trip we stopped in a city for people to be able to buy food. We quickly hopped out to use the bathroom and find someone selling my ultimate favorite- chapati! Once we were back in the van, people kept coming up to the window trying to sell us drinks, fruit, meat on a stick, etc. There was a little traffic when we got to Kampala, but nothing too bad. By then it was 8pm and dark. We had to walk from the old taxi stand, to the new one in order to get a taxi to Entebbe. It was really hectic. We were in the heart of Kampala with my big suitcase, duffle bag, and backpack. The sidewalks and street were incredibly crowded so there wasn’t enough room to roll my suitcase, meaning Steven had to carry it under his arm. Steven was a typical overprotective brother and was very worried about me. He looked back every couple seconds to make sure I was still there. We walked for about 10-15 minutes. 

Waiting for the bus with Steven & William

Our van to Entebbe filled up quickly and we were on our way. The traffic was horrible! Entebbe is maybe 35km or so from Kampala, but it took almost 2 hours. We were at a total stand still several times. The driver actually turned off the car. Once we arrived in Entebbe, we had to get another taxi to take us into the airport. We finally arrived to the airport a little after 10pm. I was extremely exhausted after the crazy 6 hour journey!

Saying goodbye to Steven was hard because before I walked off, I realized this was likely the last time I’d see his face in person for a very long time. It’s as if in that moment, things became very real. Saying goodbye to the people I’ve come to love never gets easier… 

I slept 7 of the 8 hours to London. 

Until Next Time,

*Nicole

Independence Day

4th of July Party

Our outdoor kitchen

Our Ugandan July 4th was a big success! I typically love spending Independence Day abroad. I feel more patriotic when I’m away. Maybe it’s because I stop taking for granted the comforts of home when I’m somewhere foreign. We made hamburgers, hot dogs, mac & cheese, fried pineapple, cream corn, homemade potato chips, brownies, cookies, and guacamole. Everyone chipped in to help, it was great. We had about 25-30 people in total. Following that we went to the soccer field to play a game of 2-hand touch American football. People in town were fascinated watching us play because they don’t have American football. Football to them is soccer (I’m not sure why we switched the name

since our football isn’t even played with your feet). It was refreshing to get some cardio in after eating all that yummy food. Finally, later that evening, we lit fireworks that someone had found in Kampala, the capital. This was one of the most fun 4th of July’s I’ve ever had.

Reunited with my teachers from 3 years ago

My time is winding down and I’m torn between feeling like it’s time to return home and knowing that it’s likely to be years before I ever return to Uganda. I often said it was my heart and not my head that led me back to Uganda. I came back for my relationships with the people I love and I’m so grateful for the ability to do so. 3 years later and I feel like we picked up where we left off. My goodbyes at school went much better than last time. A couple students cried, and while I definitely got teary eyed, no tears actually fell. I think it’s party because didn’t spend a full 2 months at the school this time around. A ton of students however wrote me letters. Reading them will be difficult and I know that when I do read them I’ll instantly long to return. 

My second to last morning we woke up and discovered that the town didn’t have water so we had to go fetch it from the well. Each jug was about 30-40 lbs. The walk wasn’t too far but with the heavy water it felt like it took a while. Plus, it was uphill and muddy. Talk about a morning wake up call! 

The group after we climbed a nearby mountain

Until Next Time,

*Nicole 

Blessed

One day this week we all decided to help out at the construction site because they had the daunting task of moving 2 large piles of bricks. The truck that delivered the bricks decided that the path to the actual site wasn’t clear enough and so they dumped the bricks further up on the hill. 10-11 of us made an assembly line and threw bricks to each other. It takes some coordination, but once the line was in sync the bricks moved fairly quickly. The hardest part was keeping pace since the bricks were heavy and depending on where you were standing you may have been receiving them on a slop or throwing them pretty far. We threw them from the original pile to the middle and then had to form our line again from our new middle pile to where the men were actually laying the bricks. At the end of the day it didn’t even look like we had made a dent in the brick pile. My body was so sore the next day. I have a lot of respect for the Duke students whose placement is the construction site, they do this type of physical labor all day everyday. 

Some of the students came to help move bricks

Every Thursday around 11am the school holds fellowship. A group of students lead praise and worship and then a young local pastor gives a short message. This Thursday, Matt (pursuing a Masters of Divinity at Duke) preached and did an excellent job. He talked about the fruits of the spirit and being sure that we are good ground for God to sow into. He learned all of the fruits in Rutoro (the local language) and the kids just loved it. It means a lot to them when foreigners put the effort forth to learn their native tongue.

Volleyball Practice

Jamie, Matt, and I were asked to coach the school’s new volleyball team. This is the first time most of the students have played volleyball and they had a game in a week! I’m not sure how the teachers expected them to be ready. I was impressed by how much the students improved each day from the beginning to the end of practice. I think their physical lifestyle helps to breed athleticism. Soccer (they call it football) is the main sport in Uganda and I’m amazed at how long they can run up and down the field. It’s fun to watch the community together in the evenings and on weekends to play sports. 

Babies caring for babies

My afternoons at Home Again (the orphanage) are still great. The kids love being held. I can’t blame them for wanting attention. I can’t imagine growing up in a house with dozens of other children and only a handful of house mothers responsible for everyone. How often do they get one-on-one attention? How often are they held? This isn’t the fault of the house mothers, it just comes with the territory of a children’s home. I previously mentioned the game a couple of us came up with called “pee or water?” Well I failed the other day. I was peed on twice in one day! That seems like a lot, but I’m sure that’s nothing compared to someone that works there all day. Once again, I have a lot of respect for anyone that volunteers full time there. It’s a joy, but it can be emotionally taxing knowing that you’re helping out, but these kids lives will remain the same when you leave. They probably won’t get half as much attention until new volunteers come. Realistically, most of them won’t be adopted and Home Again will be all they’ve ever known. I sometimes think about how different my life would have been if I was in their shoes. I had the privilege of being born into the American foster care system instead of a Ugandan orphanage and that’s made the world of a difference. Blessed is the only word that comes to mind. Through no deeds of my own I ended up where I am. I am blessed.  

Until Next Time,

*Nicole

Pure Work, Pure Privilege, or Something In-between?

“Teacher, Teacher- shoes- I don’t have” yelled one of the students at Hope Academy to me as I rushed to board the van going to the city of Fort Portal for the weekend. I noticed him the day before running around school with only 1 shoe but I assumed he was playing and had thrown the other one at a friend or something. I soon realized, however, that he is one of the poorer students at school and those were his only shoes. This time when I saw him he was wearing an oversized Tshirt and no shoes. Times such as this continue to make me question privilege and the luck of place of birth. I’ve heard several students in our group talk about how great Uganda is, how beautiful the landscape is, and how happy the people are. I’m guilty of it too, but how do we keep from fantasizing it? How do we stay true to Uganda and not make it something it’s not? We should recognize poverty, we should recognize inefficiencies, we should recognize ingenuities, we should recognize pain, we should recognize happiness. How can I talk about how people here are so content with the little they have and not recognize that many probably long for more. Surely that student wasn’t satisfied without having shoes to wear. Until we stop falsifying Uganda, I don’t think we can truly help. 

Dr.Schaad has sparked us to think about privilege and the “I earned it, therefore I should be able to keep it” mentality. How did we earn it? At whose cost? Did the other person have a fair chance? Did I really start at the beginning or was I already somehow ahead? I think it’s dangerous when we feel entitled because “we earned it” and “pulled ourselves up by our boot straps”. Who gave us the boots? What about people who have no boots? 

I’ve had several conversations with my Ugandan friends that have gone to college and are really struggling to find a job. These are people that beat the odds by even making it to college, have high aspirations, and are willing to work hard. Yet they still continue to struggle so much. Here you can go to college and get something like a certificate and a diploma at a university. It’s somewhat like a 2 year vs. 4 year college in the United States. Uganda is a cash economy so most people don’t have savings accounts that collect interest, or invest in stock, etc. I would think that this makes being prudent with your money difficult. And no one is looking out for him/herself. The family is very important. I’ve seen 4 year olds at Home Again (the orphanage) pick up and carry infants. Even at such a young age they are indoctrinated to care for their own. For an older child this can manifest into immense pressure, so much so that they drop out of school in order to work and help pay school fees for the younger ones. [side note: some of us that go to Home Again in the afternoon have jokingly created a game called ‘water or pee’ because when we get there and the kids start jumping & climbing on you, you often aren’t positive what that wetness is that you suddenly feel!]

Wednesday was my day to stay home and do chores. Boy did I work my butt off! After breakfast I washed dishes from about 8:30am - 9:30am. I then went straight to helping Deborah with laundry, which we did from 9:30am- 1pm. We set up 4 basins of water under a tree in the front yard. 2 basins for washing and 2 for rinsing. She would wash first then pass the clothes to me to be washed again. After my basin was full we would move down and do the same thing but rinsing. The boys kakhi’s had a lot of dirt stains so we ended up having to wash those 3 times. I never realized the strength you need to ring out pants and towels. By the end my fingers were cut up and my arms sore. We started standing bent over the basins but it only took a couple of minutes for my back to start hurting so I suggested we get chairs. I couldn’t imagine doing all the laundry standing bent over. Deborah said they switch every other day who washes and when it isn’t your day, you’re busy nursing your aching back. Doing the laundry made me really rethink what I throw in the dirty pile and how many times you can actually wear certain things before washing them. I also quickly decided that I will never grumble about doing a load of laundry back home! Cleaning dinner dishes took an hour and a half….and the power was out. I will also never complain about doing a load of dishes in the dish washer!

Thank God it hasn’t been raining as much as the first week so a couple of us have gotten a chance to play volleyball in town in the evenings. It’s been a lot of fun. Guys from the community join us and a crowd of nearby children also come to watch. After dinner one night, I was playing with the son and daughter of one of the women that works with us and I pointed to the sky asking her son what that was. I was looking for him to respond “the moon”, but instead he shocked me and confidently said “God!” That really put a smile on my face. I love how God can use anyone, even a child.

One of the hardest things about teaching my P.4 class is the range of abilities. I taught a lesson Friday where they read a shopping list and had to answer comprehension questions about it. I figured it would take 20min max. Most finished in 10-25min, but I still had 3 students working on it after 45min. Even after I repeatedly explained the questions and reread the passage with them they continued to struggle. It was clear that the information was getting lost in translation. I applaud all of my students for even attempting school in English- a foreign language. Most of them only speak English at school because they don’t have anyone to practice with at home. I remember how hard my language classes were in high school and college, I couldn’t imagine learning every subject in a different language. 

My time is quickly passing. I have about a week and a half left in Uganda and I intend to continue spending every moment possible with those that I love here!

Until Next Time,

*Nicole

The Second Time Around

Nonexistent crowded lines, foreign sounds, and that ever familiar smell of the outdoors. The moment I stepped out of the plane in Entebbe I knew I was ‘home’. After a long 20+ hours of traveling, it was refreshing to be somewhere familiar. Other than my mission trips to Haiti, Uganda is the only other place I’ve returned to. This place that I had the privilege of living in for 2 months, 3 years ago, forever stayed on my mind. While preparing for this trip, I was overcome by nervousness. I was nervous that people wouldn’t remember me, nervous I wouldn’t remember them, nervous I wouldn’t click with the new Duke group I’m staying with, nervous things would be different from last time, just nervous. 

Day 1 in Kaihura, Uganda and I remembered why I cried 3 years ago when I left. I remembered why I’ve been planning my return since the day I left…because a part of myself belongs here. It feels right to be here, it feels free here, I feel love here, I feel God here. I was forever molded by the spirit of Uganda. I whole-heartedly mean this, Ugandan’s are some of the nicest people I’ve met around the world.

Kaihura itself hasn’t changed much. The changes I do notice are that Bringing Hope to the Family (the NGO we work with) is no longer renting spaces and has moved into new buildings. Most of the buildings were being built or about to be built the last time I was here and are now completed. Many of the buildings were created by Duke teams after me. It’s nice to see that we’ve made an impact the community truly benefits from. There is also a new cafe in town that sells coffee and pastries. I’m not sure how many non-foreigners go there, but it’s a pretty nice spot.

Seeing my students from 3 years ago has been incredible. I remembered most of their names, proving the large impact they’ve had on my life. Plus, they remembered mine which felt so sweet. So many of them have grown to be my height or taller! In 2012 I taught a P.3 (primary 3) class so now many of them are in P.6 meaning that they have one more year of primary school before they take the test to see if they qualify for secondary school. That’s huge for the students because getting in or not shapes the rest of their lives.

Hope Academy Primary School

One of my students is 8 years old and is just the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen. I got a chance to sit and talk with him and it quickly became apparent that he’s experience much more than most 8 year olds. He’s from Rwanda and came to Uganda with his Dad and sister because “they were killing people in Rwanda”. He hasn’t seen his mom or other siblings in over 3 years. I’m not even sure if he knows if they’re still alive. He lived with his grandmother for a little and she taught him Rutoro (the language of our district). He was then sent to my school (Hope Academy Primary School) as a boarding student and sometimes sees his grandmother during holidays. Most American 8 year olds can barely handle a sleepover, meanwhile he’s endured immense heartache, loneliness, unfamiliar spaces and faces, and yet still smiles. He is why I do what I do. If I can make him feel loved and special even for a little while, it’s worth it. I want him to know that someone is thinking of him, believing in him. This is just one of the heart wrenching stories I’ve heard from my students. These kids are incredible and believe me, if I could bring them home I would!

Our Guesthouse

Unlike my last trip, we are living in the NGO’s guest house instead of the separate house Duke used to rent. This means that we live in separate rooms of 2-4 people in each and there is not yet a common space just for us. Also new to this trip is that we eat at our worksites. Most of us work near the school so that’s where we eat lunch. Lunch is posho and beans everyday. I don’t think I could eat posho alone but with the sauce from the beans it’s not too bad. It’s a heavy starch that will certainly fill you up. 

Our house water tank.
Chris climbed up to check how much water was left

The water at the guest house wasn’t working when we arrived and then once it did start working the town actually ran out of water! I didn’t know that could happen. Don’t take for granted the value of water, especially if it’s clean! I was so happy one morning when it rained because I could stand outside and wash my face with something other than a baby wipe. No water also meant no shower….for a week. Funny because I think your body gets to a point where it no longer smells worse and worse. Everyday I’m here I’m reminded of how much of a surviver I really am. Things I thought I needed I’ve gone without, and survived quite well. 

Until Next Time,

*Nicole