Morning rush hour drive

I was just comparing early morning drives to work as I made the dash  across town this morning to get to my Bible study class by 8am. In my hometown of Launceston, Australia I would just head up and over the hill and I was there. In Houston I left the house at 6 in order to clock in no later than 6:43 at Memorial SW Hospital. There was a little traffic when I merged onto Hwy 59 but nothing significant.
Driving to get anywhere on time here is quite another story.

Yes, we have longhorns in Texas, BUT they are not on the main roads in traffic!!!

All the while I am having intermittent conversations with myself and God.

Can they pile that truck any higher?
Is that coal? Oh my gosh what a load.

Oops better watch out ahead that no one tries to overtake me here.

Well if you have to be stuck in traffic might as well do a little window shopping.

Well, the window is actually my car window.

 Let's see what size pot do I need, glazed or unglazed?

There is one particular stretch of the road that they display sofas, patio furniture and bed sets. These items are out all day and night in all kinds of weather. The only way you really get to look at them is driving by slowly in traffic.

Now here is one of my very unfavorite parts of the drive. The boda drivers are everywhere, coming at you in all directions.

 They seem to have an entirely different set of road rules than the rest of us. (or maybe no rules at all is more like it)

They weave in and out of traffic and expect you to stop even if they brush within in inches of your car on purpose as they try to push past.

As long as we're on the subject of poor drivers, let me mention those who make 2 or 3 lanes when there is only supposed to be one.
Very frustrating. I am so glad when right on time at 8, I pull into the parking lot. Thank you God for getting me here safely and on time. Oh and by the way if you wonder how I could take photos as I drive that's because sometimes traffic comes to a complete standstill and you even turn the engine off until it's time to roll again.

Hospital and kitchen in Akot

Back in June I spent 3 weeks on the compound that encompasses this facility.

The compound is situated on a large area of land. Towards the front is one of the main buildings that houses the clinic rooms, pharmacy and offices for the Malteser Ministry that is responsible immunizations.

There is also a dentist room complete with chair but no dentist present at this time, although it is available for any visiting teams.

The hospital is one long, rectangular building which is broken up into two sides, with usually 12 beds in each area.

Above every bed hangs a mosquito net. Each bed is supplied with one sheet and one pillow.

Monday through Friday the doctor  makes rounds on all the patients, getting updates from the nursing staff and monitoring the course of treatment. The doctors here are pretty much on call 24/7 as they live just across the compound.

During the time I was in Akot, most of the patients that were admitted had malaria.

 This means they came with at least one of the following, but not limited to, high fever, headache,stomach problems sometimes, such as vomiting and diarrhea and general weakness similar to flu symptoms.

Typically, depending on the severity of symptoms they would receive IV or oral anti -malarial medications along with some fever reducing tablets. In most cases they would be feeling better in 2-3 days, although there were some persistent symptoms that would take up to 5-7 days to finally abate.

Unlike many hospitals in rural Third World countries, the patients here are fed by the hospital.
 Each morning hot tea with a ton of sugar is served. (this is the way Sudanese like to drink it)
Some patients at this time may also receive porridge. ( like oatmeal)
The next two meals that are served will be the same, rice and beans.
The photo on the right is the kitchen where all the meals are cooked. As you can see the goats like to check out what is on the menu too!
Big pots sit over hot coals for hours during the day and once served the bowls are carried to the bedside.

This is where the staff gathers for their meals of beans and rice . It's just next to the kitchen.
During my stay we had 4 nursing students in residence who always had interesting things to say about their home communities. One of the students came from the Nuba Mts. in the north where there is presently much fighting.
Breakfast was around 7am, lunch anywhere from 2-3pm and supper between 7-8pm. Tea and coffee all day as needed with lots of filtered water available on those hot, steamy days.


Well I think that's a good overview of the hospital and meals etc. You may wonder why I am writing all this, as it may not be very interesting to readers but it's like my personal memory book. I did keep a journal while I was there with my own private thoughts and feelings but the blog, especially if I print it, will be a great visual to jog my memory.

Rules to live by

The apartment I am living in came fully furnished. On the whole I am pleased with their choices of furniture, appliances etc. I really like the one and only wall hanging.

What comes to mind when you see this? Do you think of childhood days and rules that you had to obey?

I wonder what home rules you have now as an adult, parent or grandparent?

Perhaps there is no written list but instead an unwritten code or such that everyone in the family is clear on.




Below are some other house rules that are very fitting, maybe these apply in your house hold.

Even if I don't have anyone here in my home to be accountable to, I can still apply these to my life and how I treat others.  These rules are hanging on the wall opposite where I sit and eat. This is a great reminder and definitely something to "chew on". I hope that they help you too.

Shea Tree

Well after a few recent posts from around my new home I think it's time to go back to South Sudan and continue with some of the things I found interesting and new there during my stay in June.
In earlier postings I think I briefly mentioned the Shea tree, or as it was known locally, the Lulu tree.

The correct name in Latin, I believe, is Vitellaria Paradoxa.

This one is huge. It was on the grounds of the hospital in Mapuordit that I visited for the day.

As you can see it's also a wonderful shade tree in the hot African sun.

We spotted this woman cooking under the tree.
It was in a way, a strange sight. She was using what looked like an almost new teflon pan.  I never thought of using my teflon to cook over hot coals!
When we first looked her way she had a metal spatula and was tossing the beans around with it.
Horrified we suggested, through a translator, that she use a wooden tool. She took our advice :-)

These two ladies have been collecting the shea nuts. They contain a pale yellowish fat that is extracted to make the shea butter.

The butter is used in cooking by the locals. I understand it works well but has a very different taste than other butters and fats.

There are a lot of women here who could make a decent living if they were able to market their shea nuts.

Check out your cosmetics and lotions labels. I'm sure many of you are using it. Well that's a wrap for my Shea story. You never know what you are going to get on this blog, history, geography, theology, nutrition and random thoughts. Thanks for reading and check back later.

A walk around Gaba ( aka Ggba)

Today I decided to step a little more into the local flavor of the community that surrounds me.

It's an easy walk down the hill on a dirt road. It's definitely uneven and therefore always a good idea to watch where you are stepping. I have   my walking shoes on and am always amazed to see young women in high heels!

I enjoy watching the people go about their daily life. It's definitely an assault on the senses though.

Sometimes there's smoke floating across your path from a roadside stand that is cooking some kind of food or just someone burning rubbish. (trash)

There are so many interesting things to look at. I keep my sunglasses on to keep out dust but it also allows me to look at people without them thinking I am staring. Oh, before you think I 'am rude for staring, I get plenty of stares and comments like "hey momma" and "muzungu."




I am fascinated by some of the stalls and stores that I pass by. I must admit the signs sometimes crack me up.

Now here's a sign, actually 2 bright yellow ones that really caught my attention.
The place is called the Classic Inn. You can see it's pretty classic alright!
They are having a price cut for their guests. Resting is only 3,000 Ugandan Shillings ( $1.25) and to spend the night is 5,000 USH ($2)
I didn't have the least interest in doing either.
 I only happened along this pathway trying to locate the "beach resort" that was advertised.  It never materialized.

I did come across the local mosque with it's big loud speaker on the top. Could this be where I hear the call to prayer from? Surely not, it's too far to be so loud.

Today happens to be market day so a all kinds of things are displayed on both sides of the street. There are a lot of used clothes and shoes that look like they are from the U.S or somewhere in Europe.

This is probably one of my favorite encounters of my walk. I noticed this man earlier selling his pineapples but I lacked the courage to ask if I could take his photo. I was walking back towards home a little later and decided to go for it.

I can't tell you how many pineapples he had tied to that bike and then the clear plastic bucket on the front holds freshly cut pineapple if you are so inclined. That thing has to be so heavy to push!

Next is Jonathan. He is in the shoe business, heavy duty, rubber shoes taken from car tires I think.
I asked if he was making money. He said, yes.
So many people working very hard for very little.

A little off the main drag is an open field the overlooks where fish are dried, smoked or whatever it is they were doing that smelled nasty and looked even worse. The big guy in the foreground is a Maribou Stork. They are everywhere around here.


Well that's mostly it. There are so many other photos that were screaming out at me to be taken but I am not bold enough to just whip out my camera, I am after all trying not to draw attention to myself, but just blend in with the crowd.

Neighbors

Today is a dreary day of sorts outside. It started during the night with the gentle rain coming down, it seemed continuously, and some occasional thunder. No morning sun on the horizon across the lake when I pulled back the curtains at about 6:30. I am thankful that there is no loud call to prayer from the nearby mosque, however they make up for it around 12:30, 4 and 7pm.

At first I was really annoyed that they can make as much noise and disturb the rest of us, even if I don't want to hear it, I have to. I could actually hear the guy breathe over the microphone! I had to quickly get over this attitude because daily life would be miserable. Now I just use it as a reminder to pray to the ONE, TRUE, LIVING GOD. If they can pray at least 4 X a day, so can I.

My neighborhood is quite diverse. There are rich and poor, Muslim and Christian, Caucasian and Black or Indian. I haven't ventured out today to explore the neighborhood due to the weather, but I have been watching out my windows. I have a small balcony on the side, off my bedroom. From here I have a good view of Kampala University, Gaba Campus, but that's not where my attention is drawn.

 Just over the fence from our compound there is a small, mud building with cracks in the wall covered by a tin roof that doesn't look like it is capable of withstanding high winds. I suspect drenching rains may be a problem inside. The building is bad enough, but that's not what I find so disturbing.

There are several children who live here and none of them seem to go to school. I have watched them run around the house in a game of chase and what may be Hide and Seek. They play in the dirt or help  their mother with chores, like digging or fetching water.

Life here is unfair, unequal and unjust. Education is so necessary for change to occur. My mind drifts to South Sudan,just to the north of us. Here, young girls in particular,  are  very often denied an education. Instead they tend cattle or goats, carry and care for children who are smaller than themselves, gather food and firewood and haul huge amounts of water for the rest of the family. If they are fortunate they will be acquired by a kind man who is not a decade or more older than them and will have the opportunity to be a person not just an object.
Well anyway, back to the family over the fence, what can I do to help? My heart aches for the injustice of it all. I can and will pray for them and for the government to be aware and pro active in understanding their responsibilities in educating ALL of Uganda's future generations.

New Digs

After being back in Kampala for 12 days it was time to get out of the Henderson family's hair. They are always such gracious and hospitable hosts.
Everyone was keeping an eye open and a listening ear for possible places for me to rent or house sit. Many families are just now returning from summer breaks back in the U.S. or in Europe so nothing was coming up. I decided to look online and found a place of interest. A Ugandan realtor named, Lynn, responded to my call. As it happens she got her real estate license and training in Dallas ( I didn't hold that against her) She understood very well the wants and needs of the Mzungu. (white person) God also knew what was best for me and provided magnificently as always.
Lynn took me to 4 places but the second one captured my attention and heart immediatley. Long story short I moved in on Monday 27th.

My apt is #1 on the 3rd floor. It's the one on the left of the screen. It is very modern by Ugandan standards. There is a high fence and good security so I feel safe.

That's my car in the foreground. Let me tell you it's quite a walk from the car to the apartment. Actually there are 151 steps to climb!

Looks like I'll be getting lots of exercise :-)

Here's the view from my balcony. Not bad eh?

Before you go getting any ideas, this is not a beach resort. The body of water you see in the distance is Lake Victoria. It looks pretty but looks can be deceiving.
 There is a disease called Bilharzia, that is fairly common here. You can get sick from any kind of water activity in this lake.
I'll just enjoy the view.
If you want to locate me on Google look for Spear Rd.  I am between Kampala University and Wentz Medical Center. It is in the area known as Gaba.

Now before you go thinking I live in some ritzy neighborhood let me show you the view from my back balcony.

This is the scene literally right below the apartment building. The main building shown does not have running water, in fact you can just see a yellow jerry can inside an open cement block. This is where they wash clothes etc.

There are several chickens that I have seen come and go inside the doors. I don't think there is electricity either. They get their lighting as it spreads over the fence from our building. No zoning laws in effect here!

One of the reasons I love this place, beside the view, is the location away from the usual hustle and bustle that is Kampala. It's great to wake up in the morning hearing the sounds of abundant bird life. In one of my umpteen flights recently I saw the movie "The Big Year". I think I could really get into "birding" I just found out recently that Uganda provides one of the best opportunities in the world for bird watching due to the ridiculous amount of species found here. I can't remember the exact amount, but I think if  I am going to do it, now is a good time.

Akot Ministries

During the time I stayed in Akot I was able to witness many wonderful ministries in action.

It was always interesting to watch the transformation occur in front of the clinic area each day.

At 8:30 the staff would gather to sing and then have a devotional.
There were 2 long bench seats and a few seats under a large tree.

The patients had not yet arrived in full force, but occasionally one or two came early in hopes of being seen first.

A few hours later chaos reigns. In this corner of the compound mothers and children are lining up for immunizations.

At present mothers receive immunizations one day and their children on another.

These days provide a wonderful social opportunity for women as they sit under the tree or stand around waiting their turn. No one seems to be in a hurry.

Now over in the middle area, in front of the clinic many are crowded around an organization that is handing out mosquito nets.

Apparently only so many are given out per household. These are a much desired item.

 Bear in mind the time I was there was wet season and mosquitos were out in droves or whatever mosquitos are called when they are collected together.

Here's a woman making off with her allotted nets. If I may say here, when you are looking at Christmas gifts for people who have everything, think about giving nets in their honor.

 You can go through such organizations as World Vision or Compassion International. Your gift may have the potential to save a life.

As well as mosquito nets and immunizations, World Health Organization (WHO) comes weekly to check the nutritional status of mothers and children 5 and under. They measure the circumference of the children's upper arms to determine if they fit criteria for food supplies. Depending on the age of the person needing supplements, they may get grains, similar to oatmeal or "Plumpy Nut" bars.

Sadly I saw many between the ages of 6 and 10 who would have benefited from supplements, but were ineligible.

A Layover in Johannesburg Part 2

After seeing the Freedom Charter and the 10 pillars we made our way further into Soweto.  I no longer saw the shanty towns and shacks, they were replaced by very small, concrete and brick houses that I think had been government built back when the area was first developed. I did see a few nice playgrounds for children and of course wide open areas where boys played soccer.

In a very ordinary setting on a quiet street is Winnie Mandela's house. She is the second wife of Nelson Mandela.
There is a high brick wall surrounding the property so what you see is all I saw too.
When Winnie's husband was released from his 27 year imprisonment he would not stay here as it was thought to be opulent ( for want of a better word)
There are many colorful flags draped on the front of the building. I am sure they are symbolic of different things.

Thomas, my guide

Next we drove to the house Nelson stayed in for only 11 days following his release. I believe he then went to somewhere near his birthplace for some time.
In an exhibit about him, there are six themes that are explored to describe his life. They are:
CHARACTER
LEADER
COMRADE
NEGOTIATOR
PRISONER
STATESMAN
There are many more ways to describe this extraordinary man.

In the same area we made another stop. This tour was turning out to be gut wrenching. I have been to several places in the world that have made an everlasting impact and deep impression on my heart, for example standing in the room where Anne Frank slept, Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany, the mass grave of those killed in the Rwanda Genocide and now here in Soweto.

Let me introduce you to a dying 13 year old boy named Hector Pieterson. Hector, along with about 30 other students were quietly protesting the introduction of Afrikaans as a medium in their school instruction.
The police were quick to open fire. Apparently another boy was shot first but this photo went out around the world showing Hector being carried by a fellow student, with his sister running alongside. They only made it 2 blocks before he died.

The photographer hid and did not release the photo immediately in fear for his own life.


It was now just after 9 am . I had absorbed a lot in the past hour and forty five minutes. My next stop was the Apartheid Museum. On the front of one of the brochures I was given on admittance, it said " Apartheid is exactly where it belongs-in a museum."  I couldn't agree more.  It was also stated that the museum is a journey, not a destination. The journey started with a very stark exterior leading you to think of oppression, detention and division. The principle behind Apartheid was- segregate everything. Cut a clean line through a nation to divide black from white and keep them divided.

To enter the actual beginning of the journey through the museum you must first pass through a  turnstile. You are given a ticket which says either White or Non White (Nie Blankes) and you are expected to enter through the appropriate entrance.

Immediately inside you see enlarged ID's of real people. Thomas came to this entrance with me to point out that the ID actually said "Dumb Person" along with other personal particulars about each person.
It was very sobering.

 

I wandered through a maze of displays, film clips and exhibits for just over 2 hours.  I left emotionally exhausted but with a much better understanding of this terrible period of history. Actually the truth be known I was pretty much physically exhausted now too.
I had been up for way too many hours to even try to count at this point.

As we drove back to the airport, Thomas decided we had enough time to drive through central Joburg.
We passed along a section of an historical street where during the gold rush days buyers stood on  one side and sellers on the other.
Featured in this photos is a vehicle that took 28 men into the gold mines. This photo unfortunately doesn't portray the actual size. The ride must have been horribly uncomfortable for large, grown men.



As we drove towards the airport there are huge clay colored hills everywhere that stand as reminders of the the splendor days, now they are just dump sites from the mines.
Back inside O.R. Tambo airport I was able to get a quick snack and wait for boarding time and the 4th and final flight that would take me back to Kampala.

A layover in Johannesburg Part 1

I haven't blogged for about 3 weeks, well I guess I am not saying anything you don't already know. I do have a few more blogs up my sleeve from my stay in Akot, South Sudan but I wanted to post a blog about my recent visit to Johannesburg or otherwise affectionately called Joburg or Jozi, before I forget any of the details.

I have always wanted to visit South Africa and while watching the Olympics my attention was again drawn to it. I certainly never thought it would be a reality so soon until I started planning my return from Australia to Uganda. I found out that my preferred route through the Middle East was infinitely more expensive at this time of year so my very patient and persevering travel agent found me a less expensive fare that entailed a stopover in Joburg.
 At first when I learned the stopover would be 8 hours in length I was a bit disappointed. What would I do for 8 hours in an airport after I had just flown 11 1/2 hours? I did some online research to find what tours might be available that fit my time limits. I was given a quote of $250. What are you kidding me? In the end I decided to wait and see what I could find once I got inside the terminal. I was feeling tired and asked God to please find me the right tour for the right price. As usual he did not disappoint.

Once I had changed my dollars into South African Rand I set off out the door with my driver/guide, Thomas. We got into his Mercedes and headed out into the early morning traffic. It was just past 7 :15 and so everything was on schedule for a non rushed tour. The temperature was a little cool but the rising sun was warm. I had lots of questions for Thomas so our drive passed quickly.

I know that this photo would not win any prizes but it's the best I could do as we zoomed along at 120 kms/hr. I must say I was surprised how modern Joburg is. The roads are equal or  even better than those in the U.S.A.
 Of course you guessed the skyscrapers in the distance are in  Joburg CBD.
Joburg is the capital of the Guateng, the wealthiest province in South Africa. The historical Sesotho name for Johannesburg is place of gold.
There are 8 million people in Joburg, making it one of the top ten largest metropolis's in the world.

As we made our way to Soweto we passed by the world's 3rd largest hospital, the Chris Baragwanath.
They employ around 700 doctors. There were a bunch of other facts that Thomas informed me of but at this time is was hard to take it all in without having a cup of coffee to revive me. My body clock was way out of whack and I think I should have been tucked up in bed sleeping, not touring this amazing city.

My first time to get out of the car is coming up. We are now in Soweto, which by the way stands for southwestern townships. It has a population of 4,000,000.

There are 10 pillars that mark this historical place. They are the pillars of freedom. Back in 1955 3,000 people met who were part of an apartheid resistance organization formally known as the African National Congress.

There is a lot more to this story but since I am not writing a political or historical report I will let you delve further if you should wish.

Thomas was standing by my side in a rotunda that displayed the words on the 10 pillars. I slowly walked around reading the words on the display. As each pillar went by I began feeling more and more uncomfortable. The words were well crafted and definitely well intended but sadly not all the words had come to fruition.

I wasn't sure what to say to Thomas. His skin is clearly black and mine is white but on the inside we have the same red blood, the same organs, the same design as made by our Creator. I felt sick and embarrassed at the inequality of man.

As we walked back to the car, Thomas said quietly, "Many of the things written there have not yet happened." Now that's an understatement.

Let's take the statement from the Freedom Charter that says:

THE PEOPLE SHALL SHARE THE COUNTRY'S WEALTH

I don't think the people living in the squalor of this shanty town in Soweto where, when it rains shacks are carried off in the waters and mud, would say they have shared in any wealth.




I still have much more to share with you so I think I'll make this Part 1 and continue next blog, so stay tuned.