Lake Bunyonyi

http://bunyonyi.blogspot.com/2010/08/bunyonyi-deepest-attractive-lake.html

Lake Bunyonyi - This is where the Grade 8 students will be going for their 1-week Outdoor Education Experience in mid-September. I am one of the chaperones!

Week 4 in Kampala

Kampala, Week 4: Sunday Evening

I was forced out of my Sunday routine...it doesn’t take long. I had a great plan to spend it at school in order to catch up on paperwork at school. Instead, I rolled out of bed a little later than usual. Mornings can be on the chilly side...imagine that...so I snuggled under the duvet for a few minutes longer than usual. I needed to do a little errand and called Sybil (drama teacher and new friend) to get some information about distances and expected rates on a boda-boda. Then she decided she’d join me on the errand, but we ended up going with her Jeep. Instead of returning home, we trundled off to a pottery school which I understood to be around the corner. But Sybil has turned African in the sense of the concept of distances and directions! The place was a 40-minute drive outside of Kampala...on the way to Jinja, the source of the Nile. The pottery was quite spectacular, but the prices were European. The place is run by Swiss missionaries. Amazingly, I purchased nothing. But maybe that’s really because I only get my first pay cheque at the end of this month! On the way back into Kampala, I decided to show Sybil my apartment...and we ended up whiling the entire afternoon away on stories. I whipped up a yummy pumpkin soup, blended some cocktails with passionfruit, banana,  and rum.

The first week at school unfolded without too many glitches. I find the school day tiresome because we have no breaks between lessons. Monday to Wednesday are packed full, but things ease up on Thursday and Friday.  And we can leave at 3:15 on a Friday. Always welcome. The last two lessons on Friday – in my free time – we had a visit from three actors and the director of a controversial play, “The River and the Mountain” which has been running in Kampala for the past few weeks. The IB students all attended. We drummed up enough support to arrange a school bus to take 12 students to the show on Saturday evening. The show was held at “Mish-Mash” – a funky restaurant, gallery, and performance space run by an Australian couple. The place was buzzing. A beer company was shooting a commercial at the same time...so it was quite an evening out. The performance was pretty good, and some of the actors are very talented. The themes explored in the play should hold the students in good stead when they write some of their papers.  So, all-in-all, it’s been a pretty jam-packed week.  Wish I had spent a little more time on getting the paperwork done...but, what the hell!  Sybil was good company, and she knows lots of people in this city because she has been here for four full years. She is planning bi-weekly Thai cooking lessons with the husband of one of the primary teachers. I am in...so that should be a blast! That’s it for the week.

The students listen attentively to the words of the actors. It was a pretty inspiring session.

IB student, Winnie, shows off the two tickets she won after a quiz about the play. Here, she is posing with three of the actors who came to meet and speak to the students.

Week 3 in Uganda

Tomorrow, the students arrive for their first day of school. Despite my years of experience in teaching, the day always comes with some trepidation. As always, some things are in place, and some things aren’t. Administrators NEVER provide teachers with enough planning time. The week was filled with meetings. One entire day was devoted to First Aid training, from 8:30 a.m. until 5 p.m. All important, without a doubt, but I found myself having to bring home tons of schoolwork. Things like this happen in every school. Vlad, my neighbor, will be teaching P.E. so he is laughing all the way to the local watering holes. Last night, he joined his confrere at Bubbles O’Leary, the bar of choice for a lot of expatriates, while I stayed home to read Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” and work my way through the yearly plans for the different levels that I will be teaching.  I am still waiting for my classroom to be adequately equipped with the technical stuff needed. The computer has no speakers, the printer cable only arrived on Friday, and I am waiting for the projector to materialize. I am told that, in Africa, it is each ‘man’ for himself! I see that in the way that driver’s drive. The traffic congestion is beyond belief, and the diesel fumes too much for my little lungs. Yesterday, I took a boda (motorcycle) to “The Surgery”, the clinic of choice for most teachers at the school. There, I picked up some surgical masks to wear when riding in traffic. At the market, the vendors were disconcerted by the mask. “You scared of Ebola?” “Just the pollution,” said I, and casually picked up some spices – nutmeg, ‘fresh’ vanilla bean, coriander, some curry powders, sea salt from Mombasa, Kenya. Was a little adventurous yesterday, and made myself a rice pudding with brown rice. Yummy, I might say, because everything tastes quite different – the milk is different, the eggs, and the spices seemed more flavourful. I also made my first pot of lentils, and reserved the beans for another day. I have used up every container in the kitchen (they can be counted on one hand!) and my fruit salad will have to wait a day or two! Last night, the rain arrived. Then, in the early hours of morning, more rain. Galoshes! Darn – why didn’t I pack any?! I haven’t ventured out, yet, but those muddy roads are certainly not inviting. The gym will have to wait until I pluck up the courage…and give in to the fact that my runners will be caked with fresh red mud. I am sure the cleaners at the gym are not going to be too pleased. Maybe I will carry a clean pair of runners for the treadmill. Looked into the cost of sending a parcel from Canada. A joke! I will have to pick up some cheap willies from the market, made in China, of course, and cut them down to serve as galoshes. They are somewhat affordable, but dreadfully uggle!  Our first holiday comes in October – 19-26^th, I believe – and I have been looking into some options. I would like to escape to a place that has cleaner air – nothing to discuss on that one. Since I have tons of work to wade through, today’s blog is deliberately short. The pic for today is taken from my spare bedroom/office window. In the distance, you can see the Bahai Temple which sits on the neighbouring hill. The temple was build in the 1960’s – and I am told it has beautiful gardens and is a lovely serene place to visit. Shall do that one of these days. It’s a 40-minute walk from my apartment. Maybe next weekend.

A view of the Bahia Temple, taken this morning  from my back window

Saturday Morning in Kampala, Week 2

Saturday Morning in Kampala (Week 2)

Since this is not an extended holiday, I had to come to terms with the mandatory school induction meetings. As always, this is not devoid of trepidation. With the apartment suitably organized and cozy enough, it was time to cozy in to the school routine and get a chance to meet the entire staff which is impressively multicultural. Apart from the Ugandan teachers, the foreign teachers come from more than 30 different countries  - Holland, Belgium, England, Ireland, Germany, France, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, the Philppines, The U.S., and more.  As expected, new teachers had to stand and introduce themselves as we gathered in the large assembly theatre, a semi-enclosed theatre on the sprawling campus. After the initial meeting with the entire faculty, new teachers were given yet another tour of the campus. We were all quite amazed at the facilities and I was particularly impressed by the plant life. The plants and trees are luxuriant, some of which I have never set eyes on. The meetings went on all day and I had a chance to sneak off to the gym/club in the afternoon while the new teachers were whisked off to the furniture market downtown. Some new  teachers were still jet-lagged, having arrived only the night before.  Later on the Monday evening, all teachers were expected to gather by the school swimming pool and bar, we enjoyed a lavish bbq with free-flowing booze. To be expected, some people could not draw the line, so there were unsavoury stories to be heard on the morning after. Enough said. The week was filled with meetings – as is expected. The school is fairly organized, but I did get somewhat distressed to discover that the tech had not been installed in my classroom. Several new teachers are awaiting their smartboards/projectors to propel us into the 21^st century. Naturally, older teachers are all smugly established, carefully guarding what they have, with little intention of sharing. Nothing changes. Schools are the same around the world. I have my time-table with a full workload. I have been relieved of homeroom duties because I have 32 lessons a week, teaching grades 7, 8, 10 and IB1 (Grade11). I am also one of the teachers responsible for chaperoning the Grade 8 students on their outdoor education excursion two weeks after the students arrive. They are scheduled to visit Lake Bunyoni (spelling?) in south western Uganda, about three hours from Kampala. I am told that it is somewhat like Canada – green, clean, cool. Speaking of which, I am constantly amazed at the weather/climate. The temperature does indeed range from 18-30 every day – the only changes are determined by the rain. The little rain that has fallen since I have arrived serves to hold down the dust – not a bad thing at all! But, I am kicking myself for not packing some galoshes! The streets –how could they be so named?! – turn into fast-flowing rivulets, and the terracotta mud makes for treacherous navigation. Fortunately, my apartment is a ten minute walk to school – if that.

We did, thankfully, have some respite from Kampala because we were scheduled for a two-day/one-night stay at the Speke Resort – one of the plushest resorts in Kampala, sitting on the bank of Lake Victoria. It belongs to the guy who owns the school, so we used the facility to continue some of the team-building activities. Lots of laughs were had, and we had time to chill. After an extremely meat-heavy dinner on the boat (beef, lamb, chicken, fish, liver), the aisles were turned into a dancing floor, as we sailed along Lake Victoria. Of course, there was little to see, but it was ambient, nonetheless. Did it feel like Africa? Hmmm – not sure. Could have been any lake, really. As expected, there were post-cruise parties. I chose bed! Can’t keep up with the youngsters!  In the morning, I ventured to the gym at the resort. While on the treadmill, I was joined by an ‘important’ person who insisted that his treadmill be cleaned thoroughly with detergents. I couldn’t understand the fuss. Between my huffing and puffing, I heard him say to the gym attendant, “When the president was here, yesterday, he said we should have no fears about Ebola! But, I am not taking any chances!” At that point, I began to wonder if I should have had my treadmill scrubbed down!  Anyway, my point is that this is the kind of resort that has a presidential suite, and hosts the dignitaries of the region and beyond. There were all sorts of conferences going on, and the place was abuzz with people from various parts of the world. Of course, the food was spectacular and it was quite hard to stick to a sensible eating regimen. I did try, though. We left the resort on Friday afternoon and I returned to my less-stocked kitchen! This morning, it’s back to fruit salad and herbal tea.

Vlad, my neighbour, wants to go to the club at noon – in about an hour. He knocked on my door, most likely expecting looking coffee.  I’ll join him at the gym. Managed to read one of my set texts for Grade 8, and I am very aware of a huge pile of books that I have stacked on my desk at school. But, all in due course. Tonight, I’ve been invited to a party on a rooftop somewhere not too far. By the way, Kampala is a sprawling, chaotic city, spread across seven massive hills around the lake. It is nowhere near the size I had imagined. 3 million (probably more) people. It took more than an hour to get to the lake which, as the crow flies, is barely fifteen kilometres away! Traffic jams are the order of the day. Thankfully, the party is close by. A U.S. marine has a birthday party, and I’ve been invited. It will afford me a glimpse into expatriate life in Kampala and my chance to determine whether to draw closer, or retreat from the expatriate community. More to come in my next blog. In the meantime, here are some pics from the week.

Teachers gathering at the reception desk on Day 1 of the Induction Activities

We were all suitably impress by the green campus

A few of us enjoy lunch at the Kabira Country Club - where we all have free membership.

My room at the Speke Resort. Speke is the David Livingstone of Uganda, if you will.

A view from my room at the resort

Impressive palms at the resort

The swimming pool which we used for group-buildling activities and leisure time

Vladimir, my apartment neighbour, prior to boarding the boat for the cruise on Lake Victoria

Suzanne, from Tasmania  (Senior English) and Rene, from Belgium (Senior Biology)

Pria from Montreal (Grade 3), Rhoda from California (Grade 5), snug on the boat - before the drinks and meal

Sybil  from the U.S. (Senior Drama and English)

Liz from New Zealand, the IB coordinator and Business Studies teacher

Rene and Liz, prior to setting off on the cruise

A view of Lake Victoria, at dusk, as we leave the jetty

More pics from Week 1 in Kampala

The local furniture market on Gabba Road. Got my stuff from this guy.

James Dickens Mbayo - who who provided transportation in his open truck!

Here's the open truck! I wanted to sit on the back.

The balcony to my apartment getting some finishing treatment.

Fred, my landlord, supervising the carpenter in the kitchen.

Sunday, the gardener, who provided the pot, soil, and palms for me balcony.

And the work is also done by women! On my balcony, putting finishing touches.

Hamis, in the middle, a carpenter who installed some papyrus screening on the balcony to give some privacy.

Proscovia, showing off the new mosquito net she picked up from the market.

Stylish Proscovia posing in the upscale bathroom.

17-year-old Kamya, the orphaned goafer, helping me clean my new balcony protection gate.

George, the boda rider who took me to the market to buy my fruit bowl and some fruit.

Feisty Hamide, who expected me to buy before taking pictures - naturally! Then she wanted to know if I would take her back to Canada!

After the purchase of some mangoes.

The new bowl and some fruit on my dining table. Notice the Georgian icon of Saint Michael gracing my wall!

My living room with the happy addition of my kilim from Azerbaijan.

My little dining nook

The master bedroom!

The ensuite bathroom

My spare room for laundry and my office space. Need a desk!

The main bathroom

The passageway to the bedrooms. Perfect for my Iranian runner!

The new aluminum gate to the balcony

A view through the gate, looking into the balcony and living room

My kitchen with cupboards that are too high - and an empty wine rack.

Some fresh chanterelle mushrooms! Purchased for fifty cents!

Week 1 in Kampala

Sunday Morning in Uganda (Week 1)

Enjoying the new deck at Elizabeth Place just moments before departure for the airport.

A smooth transition to Kampala. All my luggage arrived intact.

I was collected by a driver from the school

My first morning in Kampala, on the way to the Garden City Mall to purchase phone and internet time

Bev and Mum enjoying the rocker on the new deck

Let me begin with the weather. Surprisingly, it is cooler than Toronto. I thought I would sit on my balcony and write this entry. Instead, I am on the couch in my living room. Go figure. This is not to say that there aren’t hot moments in the sun. But, that’s it. I use my down comforter from Canada and I am quite happy to cozy under during the night. That said, let me fill you in on the week.

Today, I am laying low. No boda rides. I am open to visits, but I am not moving my arse for anyone or anything. This is my day of rest to catch my breath. Literally. I have held my breath for an entire week – either from cringing on the backseat of the bodas, or from preventing suffocation from the toxic fumes that assault anyone riding on open vehicles. In a city of over three million residents, that’s a lot of people “footing” or “bodaring”. And a surprising number of expatriates can be seen negotiating the toxic clouds and potholes of the city streets.

I have tried not to play tourist, so I apologize for the lack of decent pictures. For the first five nights, I was housed in a temporary location. That’s about as much as I could handle living out of my trunks. The new apartment building – which is still a construction zone – is located just metres away (maybe 200 metres) from temporary place. This meant that I could pop over often enough to spur the workers on. I had constant flashbacks to Turkey and the work ethic of workers there. There is a certain slowness of pace, which I am now beginning to believe is related to the weather. Nobody dashes anywhere! For this week, allow me to say, with broad brushstrokes, that Uganda is an African version of Turkey. To date, the biggest distinction is the fluent English and sense of humour. And, Turkey does have better roads with less pollution.

Kampala is much more polluted than I had anticipated. I pray that I don’t have to resort to my asthma pumps, yet! To circumvent this, I decided to put paid to my gym routine. So, in between the boda rides to shop for food, odd things for the apartment, I have managed put in five sessions at Kabira Country Club, the upscale gym/swimming pool/hotel complex very close to the school and the apartment, where I have complimentary membership. It’s the club of choice for the who’s who in Kampala and certainly the place to meet other expatriates and the high society of Uganda...well, those who use the facilities. The treadmills and other machines come with TV screens and access to all available channels – extensive – and so I have managed to stay abreast of Olympic results and other news while working out.

A brief rant regarding prices. So, why is the shit made in China more expensive in Uganda? Five plastic hangers for 7 dollars. A one-dollar ice-tray for 9 dollars! I am not impressed. And that’s not where it ends. Mercifully, fresh fruit and vegetables, if purchased from the local stalls, are affordable. But, even those prices do a fast shift according to face. Yesterday, on a brief visit to the Nakasero market, I used George, the boda driver, to buy my mangoes, passion fruit, a pumpkin, fruit basket, and door mat. Otherwise, the prices would have seriously escalated into the realms of ridiculousness! I am learning to walk away with a modicum of respect because, after one week, I do have a sense of what things SHOULD cost.

Fred, the landlord, stopped by. I needed an explanation for the open space above the kitchen door. Turns out, it’s a common practice for ventilation. However, that gives the pesky mosquitoes free entry! He is a terrific guy and I now have a better understanding of the Ugandan desire to keep the air moving freely. He says they don’t like to seal things hermetically! Still, he has agreed to put a pane of glass and leave a one inch gap above to allow for ventilation. The apartments, which are generally very nicely appointed, lack the refined finishes. Fred tells me that Ugandan workers simply don’t have that skill and he wishes they could have some foreign exposure. We also had a good few laughs over the height of the kitchen cupboards. I only have access to the bottom part of the cupboards...because his designer wanted to leave counter space free and open. So, effectively, the tops of my cupboards are for things I don’t need or want to hide. And, being early days in the country, I have no such thing! Even my wine rack will have to wait until my first pay cheque!

OK. Where was I? So, this first week been mostly exploration of the locale – finding the supermarkets that work for me, finding the local stalls where I can get good produce, finding the hardware store to pick up nails to drive into concrete to hang a few pictures, finding someone willing to sell me a small quantity of turpentine or thinners to clean up paint drips. The couches, delivered by the school, picked up some oil paint from the railings on the move up the stairs. Of course, everyone chooses to ignore those things and I am left to solve the problem. So, with the help of Kamya, the 17-year-old gatekeeper/goafer/general help was at a loose end yesterday morning and I decided to enlist his help to clean up paints splatter and strip the aluminum balcony gate of the sticky protective coating. As I mentioned, everyone speaks English  - from what I have seen in my first week – except for some refugees from the Congo – I have overheard a few speaking away in French at the  local market.  So, turns out that Kamya is an orphan, abandoned along the way and it is all shrouded in mystery. He doesn’t know how his mother died. He came begging for a job at the building site and Emmanuel, the gatekeeper, took him in. He and his pregnant wife have decided to keep him safe and fed in the hope that he can somehow raise some money to pay his school fees. But, at 17, I wonder how he can return to school.

Meanwhile, I know I couldn’t have survived the week without Proscovia. She is a strong-willed young woman who, at this point in time, appreciates having the chance to work some hours every week to keep my house clean of the insidious red Kampala dust, and she gets my laundry done. She is thrilled with the steam iron and she has managed to work her way through all the creased shirts. She says she’ll take one of my trousers home to mummy to stitch up some loose seams. So, too, with my light weight orange jacket. She is proactive, and she doesn’t need to be told what to do. Without discussion, she went out to the local market to pick up a new mosquito net to accommodate the bed. She knows she can get the right price. She recycles the clothes washing water and cleans the floors. There does seem to be a certain concern for conservation of resources. My main bathroom shower comes with extremely high-tech technology that heats the water as you need it for the duration of the shower.

I have had just a little bit of social time with some of the new teachers. Stacey, the Australian sports director, seems to have the job I had in Turkey – looking after foreign teachers and holding their hands as they settle in. She hosted a bbq at her place on my second night and I met some of the teachers. Then, after my workout two days ago, I joined a group who had only just landed in the morning – the senior P.E. teacher from the Holland, and two French teachers, Fabian from Normandy in France, and his partner who comes from the Czech Republic. Stacey treated me to a local Nile beer and then I hopped on a boda to go back home. This is my last day of total freedom. Tomorrow, I have to follow a schedule for the first week of initiation activities. If course, having had a week to adjust, I have already explored some of the places that all 20 new teachers will be touring tomorrow. I have permission to boda away if I want to avoid the furniture market because I have already purchased my bookshelf and rattan couch for my balcony. So, the orientation will involve school tours, city tours, chances to purchase necessary items, and generally get familiar and acquainted. Soon, in about 10 days, maybe less, we will start teaching. So, for this blog, you will see no pictures of school or colleagues. That should come with my blog next Sunday.

 I am pretty pleased with the progress that has been made in one week. Most people laughed when they heard that I was changing apartments. They told me to expect it all to take a few weeks because workers are very slow! So, they have been proved wrong. I was told I would be able to move in on Tuesday...and I moved in on Thursday. Granted, I agreed to do the cleaning up of building rubble...paint splashes...hounding the plumber, electrician, and carpenter to fix things or get them functioning properly. They have all been super helpful and funny. One thing that stands out is the sense of humour. And the fact that most of the Christians are “saved’. But, that is for another blog. The electrician’s telephone ring is a fiery sermon about redemption and salvation. Yesterday’s boda driver asked me if I have Jesus as my personal saviour. But, if their kindness and graciousness comes from that source, why should I bother. I tell the Christians that I am Muslim and I have left my two wives back in Canada. That brings most probing to a quick end and I like it that way!

OK. Let me attempt to load some pictures. More in another week!