Talking on the Big White Phone

It’s a week since we left for Albania. We’re currently in Gibraltar visiting Tom’s brother. Yesterday we saw an Aunt of theirs who told she us about the various places she’s lived in Gibraltar. We realised the situation she described during her early marriage in the 50’s – 3 families living in one 2-roomed apartment, no running water, limited employment, one shared toilet for all the homes on a corridor – had some similarity with places we visited in Albania.  While conditions in Gib are completely different today, we didn’t have much hope for the unregistered informal homes we saw in Bathore.

When we boarded our Alitalia flight from Tirana to Rome then onwards to Malaga, there was some discussion of not feeling 100% well. We arrived in Spain exhausted, unwell and in great need of easy access to a latrine.  Our host had prepared our room with en-suite toilet, sink and shower, a comfy bed, clean sheets and towels. We used all the services in the night. We slept most of the next day – able to drink water from the tap to rehydrate. Situations like these only serve to reinforce our own privilege and remind us that there are millions of people around the world who cope with gastroenteritis – which to us was a minor 3-day inconvenience – without running water and sanitation or even a clean dry cool place to lie down, rest and recuperate. I can’t imagine how much longer it would have taken to recover if I’d had to fetch or buy water, I’d only had a dirty mattress - and rats for company, and there was no cool place to wash. And we could keep our bathroom clean and disinfected…. It may be gross but maybe we shouldn’t close our minds to the potential indignity of poverty in a similar situation.

Anyway… in case you wondered, were at about 90% now (Mum please don’t worry - we’re fine).
Imagine a child living in the kinds of homes we visited, and knowing that Monday to Friday a big yellow van will come and take you to a light bright clean place where kind people are waiting to play with you and help you start to learn letters and numbers? They’re preparing you for school when you’re 6 – giving you the same opportunity to learn as children whose parents can afford private kindergartens. When you start school, you can still go to the Centre for help with homework – and have opportunities to play with other children.  When you’re a teenager, you can go to the Youth Group. And imagine the parents of children with autism, who had no hope, nowhere to go for help, no access to therapy. They know their children can have individual and group therapy – as well as education and play alongside the other children.

On our last day I handed out the kit donated by friends in the UK. Specialist toys and aids for the therapy unit, and a ‘Wightman’ parachute (they’ve donated several play parachutes to Uganda, there’s one in Lebanon, and now one in Albania!). The staff were particularly pleased to have parachute games books and Oh Joy, they asked me to teach them some new games (their old parachute is unusable). There’s nothing like having a couple of challenging days making home visits then see the same children round a parachute, laughing, shouting, enthusiastically not listening. 

Thanks everyone – it’s really appreciated.

I love it!

I’ve got a whole notebook of stories to write up – so Albania isn’t going to go away from daily activities for a while.  There’s also the proposal to finish and then discuss, and hopefully hand over to the Grants and Trusts team in the UK to start applying for funding. I’m so glad we went, that we saw first hand what they’re trying to do. Now we’re determined to help the UK Global Care team work with the Albanian team to find ways to ensure the Centre can keep on providing services.

Run for Home

“Hope keeps us moving… If we fall, hope gets us up again.”

The young man sitting opposite smiled at Evis the Global Care Albania Manager who was translating.  *Michael had just finished telling me the emotional story of his life - which started with a young boy walking to New Day Centre (NDC) barefoot - his family couldn’t afford shoes, much less transport to school or books and pens. We’d followed his erratic school attendance, his search for a better life as a teenager – attempting the arduous and traumatic journey to illegally enter Greece. Michael said the only place he was really free was at NDC, as a child at the School Club and later at the Youth Club.  He could play games, when he was at school he had help with homework, he was treated with respect and received warm hospitality from the staff, he made friends, he met interesting guests from other countries as well as a beautiful young lady who is now his fiancée.  

He could be himself. He was introduced to Jesus and became a Christian.  Now he has a job and supports his whole family. NDC provided a place of stability in Michael’s incredibly chaotic life. He’s the same age as my youngest son. At 14 he was starving, alone and destitute trying to find a way to travel hundreds of miles from the Greek border back to his home in Tirana.  Its hard to imagine isn’t it? Michael said, “Part of what I am today is because of the influence of NDC. I see other youngsters not part of this group – their lives are different from mine - and I know I am the way I am today because of this place.  I grew up here.”

Today we have been unbelievably encouraged by meeting people whose lives have been turned around through NDC. Children, young people and parents, who had no hope… but have found hope through the team at NDC. 

We met a family whose son *Stephen has autism. Two years ago, he arrived at NDC in nappies. His therapist said, “He was like a baby. Crying all the time, screaming because he didn’t like this new place.” His parents told us Stephen had no discipline, he had a few words when he was 15 months old… then he stopped speaking, there was no real interaction. He couldn’t care for himself in any way. Now the 5-year-old can identify colours and shapes, Stephen communicates nonverbally with his parents, teachers and therapists, he can take his shoes on and off, he can wash himself, he can use the toilet – and tell his carer when he needs to go, he likes being with other children.  It was great to see his Mum (who we’d met yesterday) in her own home. Stephen was sitting at a little table playing with a car. While we were there he cuddled up to his Dad, he interacted with the therapist, he laughed. His parents said NDC was the only place they could get help. When they were told Stephen had autism there was nothing available that they could access. It was fantastic not just to hear about Stephen’s development, but to see how the family was working with the therapist and encouraging learning at home.  

Michael and Stephen live in an area of Bathore known as ‘The Cowsheds’. Unregistered homes created in the old cowsheds used by the Agricultural University during the time when Albania was a Communist country.  While we were there, the water tanker arrived - and families sent someone out with containers to buy drinking water. The fathers in both families work as day labourers in construction.  They don’t live comfortably. They don’t have access to anything as remotely helpful as the kind of health and social care support we have in the UK. 

Tomorrow we move on for a few days’ holiday, but I’ve still got lots of work to do! I have the proposal to write up so the Albanian team can finish working on it, I’ve got stories, general notes and records to sort out and send to the UK office. And… I haven’t told you about playing with some of the children today and handing over the kit – so there’ll be at least one more blog. But today, I want to focus on one thing  – HOPE.  NDC is a place of hope – a place that changes the lives of people who’ve lost all hope.

Once again I’m leaving a project in awe of the dedication and care of the local team. And I’m determined to work out if I could be a carrier of hope…

*Names changed to protect identity

Tears for Fears

Imagine the scene... I’m sitting in the front of the Global Care van as it bumps down a dusty pot-holed road. The sun beats down on my clammy body through the open window. I try not to flinch as we weave about avoiding larger bumps, people, cars, goats and cows. We reach a narrow bridge barely wide enough for the minibus, and our driver, Seat the Centre Manager, tells me it was impassable during heavy rains. I’m struggling to write notes in this bouncy environment as Seat and a physiotherapist tell me about the children we’re going to visit in their homes- my notebook is full of barely intelligible scrawl. Today has been a day of grim stories and my head is already crammed– I want to catch the full stories and I won’t remember anything I don’t write down straight away.  At this point, the only difference from trips to Uganda is that the dust filling my nostrils is grey not red (plus we have a physio who is also a speech therapist on the team!).

That was this afternoon. 

The morning had broken me.  We heard from a group of Mums… goodness its hard listening to mothers of children with disabilities. So… you’ll be pleased to know that my heart is not made of stone…. and …. we’ve worked hard today! 

We spent several hours today with my old friend ‘the logframe’. For new readers, this is a tool used in the development world to help funders decide whether or not they want to give any money to a project. Tom is becoming a bit of an expert at logframes. The rest of us are getting good at asking the right questions and writing what Tom tells us on flipcharts! The idea is that a local team present Global Care with a concept for a project, and if the UK management think they might consider funding it – or taking to a potential external funder, then the local and UK teams work together to build a robust proposal. Sometimes that needs a site visit.  On this trip we’re looking at a programme of work to support children with autism living in Bathore. Writing proposals is not an easy job (there’s the language barrier for a start) – but it’s exciting and inspiring work. You get to see the passion and vision of local teams and it’s given us huge respect for Global Care – they don’t fund projects lightly.

So… with that at the back of my mind, we joined a meeting for mothers of children attending New Day Centre this academic year. Some have been coming a while, for others it was their first session, their children having only just started at NDC.  Within about 5 minutes of the 1½ hour meeting, several Mums were in tears as they described their own struggles, their children’s problems, and asked the visiting expert (Tom) for advice.  Some days I realise the privilege of being married to this man.  He can facilitate writing a logframe, then humbly listen to a group of desperate Mums, dispensing empathy and care while repeatedly saying he’s not an expert, he can’t help… and he can’t tell them their child will be OK in the future.  He’d been briefed about a few things the therapist wanted him to say to the parents, hoping they would listen to a doctor.  But after that came the questions. Mums shaking with anxiety, trying to hide tears, crying openly, seeking reassurance and advice.
·         How can I stop my child with autism from biting his hand when he’s emotional – happy and sad?
·         How can I stop my child with autism spinning round and round?
·         Is my child with autism going to be healed? I mean completely healed? Will he have autism as an adult?
·         How can I interact with my child? He lives in his own world and won’t communicate.
·         The only word my child can speak is ‘mum’. Will he get more words?
·         My child knows he’s different – how can I stop him worrying that other children won’t treat him the same?
·         Why does my child with autism cry a lot?
·         My child was born premature. He’s 5 now. Will he ever walk?

My Tom quietly tells these women that they’re amazing, that each of their children is unique and special. He tells them about the children with autism in his hockey club – and how much they’ve achieved … and become accepted by the rest of the club. He says, “I think Mums are awesome.” 

I’m a wreck. At the end of the meeting I’m crying with the tearful women, hugging the one in need of comfort as hard as I can.

These may be questions you’d hear from Mums in this situation anywhere in the world, but many of these parents live with very limited means. If you have no income, you might use your child’s social support to feed the whole family. If the school has no trained teachers or classroom assistants, they won’t take children with physical or learning disabilities. If you can’t afford transport, your child can’t access specialist services, therapy or school. If you live down a pot-holed bumpy track, how can your disabled child get to school several miles away? 

If you’re a single Mum with other children, how do you cope with your child with disability at home all day? And how do you keep going if there is no-one to give you a glimmer of hope? I thank God for the team at NDC who work so hard to make a difference and who don’t speak platitudes or empty comfort, but actually work at changing lives.  One of our home visits was to a little boy who started therapy at NDC in a wheelchair.  Now he walks unaided – he ran inside his house when he saw us arriving. He had 1 hour of physio twice a week for 14 months.

This is not a straightforward country. These are complex problems. I really hope that together we end up with a proposal that attracts funding for NDC.

Can you see me?

We’re in Albania! I can’t quite believe I’ve written that. We had a fleeting glance at Istanbul through the airport windows too – the distant sea and mountains calling us to stop and visit next time.

We’re staying in a Christian Guest House in the middle of the Capital city, Tirana. This part of the trip is like visiting any Southern European Capital. We ate supper at a pavement restaurant last night and had breakfast in a bright modern dining room – delicious ‘Greek’ salad last night, excellent coffee this morning (I’m very happy about the coffee…). Tonight, we’re going for a walk before dinner to sightsee – we’ve already seen the huge Catholic and Orthodox Cathedrals, the markets round the corner – selling a mindboggling range of cheese, fish, vegetables and crafts, the pretty squares and parks, the sprawling blocks of flats. It’s a fascinating, bustling, sunny, active city.

This morning we went to New Day Centre (NDC) in Bathore.  John (Global Care’s CEO) told us how much everything has changed in the 17 years of Global Care Albania. Bathore is a suburb of Tirana, with apartment blocks, shops, tarmac roads, schools and health centres, running water and electricity - where once there was no infrastructure. NDC is a bright, peaceful place, right on the outskirts of Bathore. Behind the buildings a nearby glorious range of high mountains dominates the view. We were given a guided tour, meeting the staff who provide a homework club, day care/kindergarten and youth group.  In each room we were greeted with smiles.  

We met children who attend day care - younger children from vulnerable families. 2 of the children were having physiotherapy, and 4 boys with autism were in a group therapy session.

We were told that some of the children are at risk of being involved in criminal activities or sexual exploitation – NDC aims to lay a foundation that will offer these children hope for their futures.  Children are orphans, or come from families with little or no employment opportunities. Often the parents themselves have had no education and can see little point in school. For children with disabilities life is particularly hard. Children arrive at the centre with little self-worth – we were particularly struck by the aim to give children dignity.  

Some children or even families are subject to discrimination. The only facilities available to children with disabilities in Tirana are in private centres – and vulnerable families can’t afford to pay for 2 hours’ treatment. At NDC, children have therapy, education and food. It’s pretty impressive.  We were delighted to realise that at NDC vulnerable children belong to a warm loving community where they have great facilities – and why shouldn’t they? They have the right to receive the best care.

We visited some homes too. Suddenly it all made sense. At NDC we met 4- year-old *Isaac and his sister *Sally. They belong to the Roma community living in Bathore.  Isaac is blind in his right eye as a result of an untreated condition. Thanks to Global Care and NDC, he receives treatment for his left eye and the team hope and pray the vision in this eye will be saved. We drove down a narrow bumpy track with shacks at intervals on either side of the road. There were some dodgy looking electricity wires wiggling towards some of the dwellings. We arrived at Isaacs house (we had to walk the last bit) and met his Mother *Rose. As well as the 2 children at NDC, Rose’s 8-year-old daughter is now at a state school, thanks to receiving early education at NDC.  Rose has 4 children, the youngest is 18 months old. Rose told us that they took Isaac to the doctor but couldn’t afford treatment for his right eye. Her husband managed to get a day’s work 4 days ago – mixing concrete for a construction job. Sometime Rose works sewing shoes at home – she’s paid 10p for each pair of shoes, which can take 20mins to an hour to complete. We agreed this was an example of modern slavery. They live in a simple brick structure which they usually share with a relative – but he’s in prison. There is one room for all 6 of them to sleep in – but when it rains it leaks. Their living room is basically a three-walled shelter. They get water from a nearby lake – but their drinking water comes from a neighbour who has a well.  The children don’t have food at home – they get breakfast and lunch at NDC, the rest of the family had a bag of spaghetti and some sugar to eat today. The family get a small monthly amount from the state because of where they live, but because they’re unregistered, the children haven’t had vaccinations. When Rose gave birth last time, she left the hospital as soon as she’d delivered – and before they realised she couldn’t pay.

For most of the community this lifestyle means living from day to day – if their hope is to survive until tomorrow, what’s the point in education for the children? Rose and her husband are quite amazing. They understand that the only way to break the cycle of poverty is for the children to be educated, to get jobs and to support the family – or even live independently. NDC has a van to transport children to Day Care. Before the van, because Rose’s husband didn’t work, he used to bring the children to NDC – a not inconsiderable distance. 

We didn’t get much time to digest all this before we were introduced to the home of a family with 7 children. The parents and some of the children have intellectual disabilities. One of the daughters is a prostitute, the boys are in and out of prison. The house? An outdoor yard which was mostly a rubbish tip with a couple of sofas in the corner. The sleeping area was 2 concrete shelters with a selection of filthy mattresses.

What worries me more than anything is that although it was unbelievably shocking, I didn’t feel anything. I’ve realised I need this trip to remind me of the depths of horror of some human living conditions – to jolt me out of my complacency that I’m ‘doing my bit’. Who am I kidding? Its all very well looking at beautiful environments and regenerated cities – but I’ve got to stop closing my eyes to the bits that aren’t visible.  

Tomorrow we’re working on plans for more facilities for children with autism, and I’m going to hear more stories and meet young people who started life at NDC and are now have healthy, working adults.  I’m so impressed by the team here, their determination to give hope to children whose situation appears hopeless.  Tomorrow I’m going to open my heart as well as my ears; hear the pain behind the stories, the anguish of the parents – and not be afraid to feel the suffering. 

*Names changed to protect identity

And now for something completely different...

We're off again in 5 days.  Supporting Global Care has taken us to East Africa and the Middle East, and next week to Europe.  I’ve seen lots of photos of the project, read regular reports and written project updates…. but I still feel somewhat unprepared – I’m not sure what to expect.

We’re going to Albania. I didn’t even know where Albania is! 

Things I’ve found out about Albania, thanks to the UN/UNICEF, World Vision & Save the Children, and the UK Home Office:

·         Albania has seen significant economic growth in the past decade, but remains one of the poorest countries in Europe – and there is widespread inequality affecting healthcare, education, and social care and protection

·         The UN places Albanian criminal groups amongst the top criminal syndicates in the world in the illegal trafficking of heroin, cocaine, and cannabis.

·         Albania is a source, transit, and destination country for sex trafficking and forced labour for men, women and children.  Internal child trafficking and forced begging has increased in recent years, particularly during the tourist season.  Street children are at greatest risk, especially those from Egyptian and Roma communities, 

·         About 15% of Albanian citizens perceive themselves to be socially excluded or at risk of exclusion from development. People most at risk are those with physical and intellectual disabilities, returning migrants, people living with HIV/AIDS, members of the Roma and Egyptian communities, victims of trafficking or domestic violence (often women) and vulnerable children.

·         Assessment of disability is only performed by doctors -and focuses on diagnosis/cause not on needs for rehabilitation or overcoming social barriers. Lack of training and equipment and out-of-date criteria and categorisation rules contribute to only 4% of children with disability in Albania having a medical certificate (i.e. their condition is officially recognised)

·         Only 7.8% of children with disabilities have received a social service in the last 12 months. Access to social services, such as specialised centres, day-care centres, mental health centres and social care residential centres is very limited

·         1 in 2 children with disabilities experiences discrimination in the community

I’m beginning to understand why Global Care – whose focus is on the most vulnerable children in society – continues to have a presence in Albania.

We’re vising New Day Centre in Bathore, a semi-legal slum suburb on the edge of Tirana. Through the local team, Global Care aims to empower and support children and young people through a wide range of activities. One of the revolutionary aspects of New Day Centre is their work with children with disabilities - including a special kindergarten for children with autism.

I’ve read reports, papers, and blogs about autism in Albania. Children with autism fall into all the holes listed above. UNICEF highlights the problems in early detection and assessment for all children with disability – but particularly those with complex conditions like autism spectrum disorders. There is a huge need to increase awareness and understanding of autism for parents, families, communities, teachers, health and social care professionals…

So… we’re off on our travels again with our project management and proposal writing hats on. We’re going to help the team think about a funding bid to increase their services for children with autism – encompassing all the areas that could be addressed to give these children a better chance in life – and hope for their futures.  Its been amazing to have the privilege of being involved from the start, to read the passion of Global Care partners in Albania for the children in their care – and those children with no support at all.  Its also a privilege to go out to a country at this stage in proposal development – to understand and see what the problems really are and what change is needed, to be able to say when we come back that we wholeheartedly support a funding bid because we’ve seen the need and worked with the team to refine their solutions.  And it is such a privilege to meet local partners and see them at work.


Of course, I’ll also get to hear stories, interview people … and play with the latest ‘Wightman’ donated parachute with children in the special Kindergarten.  We’re ready for an intense 3 days on the ground - yes…. 3 days! 

I’ll try and update the blog when we’re there – but expect short posts as I suspect I’ll be writing up notes and preparing for the next day in the evenings.

Thanks for all the support you lovely people.

The dragon who came to lunch

We've been home for a week.  The first few days involved sleep, readjusting to the cold, and writing reports and yes, log frames! In my notebook some writing is barely legible, letters moving up and down the page telling a story of rough tracks, potholes, sharp breaking and speed bumps. I tried to capture everything - people's stories, comments and chat, sermons and speeches, observations... It helps me remember the reality of a visit to Uganda. Some pages have food stains, or smears from tears, smudges of dust, dirt and sweat. But nothing captured the heartache and pain of the people with disability (PWD) at Abeko.

I can't get away from the stories, words leap out from the pages of my notebook, amplified by photographs and memories. The drive to Abeko - almost an hour of rough dust road through endless flat scrubland. The final yards up a narrow path with high bushes and cassava fields on either side. People sheltering from the stifling heat, apart from children looking after cows, or fetching water, some balancing heavy jerry cans bigger than their heads.  

People came to shake our hands as we stepped down from our vehicle, then led us through a low entrance into a mud and wattle building.  Stripped tree branches bent upwards, providing supporting poles for the grass-thatched roof to prevent it sagging.  A large mat was seating for the women and children, the men sat on benches, visitors were given chairs. I sat on the floor with the women, resting my back on the mud wall.

We were there to meet the newly formed Disability Support Group (DSG), and to support them in prioritising the needs of their members.  We divided the group into 2, and gave every single person a chance to speak.  They were each asked to described their biggest problem.  A few days later we went back and summarised the findings, giving the group opportunity to discuss the issues and ways to tackle them.  There are some people I can’t forget. People who walked miles in the heat, or came straight from hospital, delighted that finally they had a voice that would be heard.

Can you imagine having a disability - physical/ sensory/ intellectual – with virtually no free medication, medical consultation or mobility aids, where government schools rarely have adaptations for children with mobility difficulties, or special needs teachers, and no sign language teachers or facilities for blind children? Can you imagine the damage caused to your skin and joints if you can’t walk, don’t have a wheelchair/crutches, and move on your backside on rough hard ground? Oh, and if it rains you haven’t a hope as the ground turns into flooded mud.  The main source of livelihood is agriculture...

I should let them speak for themselves:

-        Children with disabilities need help to feed and bathe and need extra clothing and bedding. If we’re caring for them, we can’t work – so we don’t have money for the things they need. Most children sleep on poor bedding and have a lots of infections and skin sores. If there isn’t enough food, its always the PWD who eats last or has none. 

-        We have no rights – people take our land, our possessions, abuse us, mock us, reject us.

-        My child went to school; he was very bright. Then he was burnt and his face is disfigured and he lost his hand. No-one will greet him and shake his hand. No-one wants to sit next to him and everyone calls him names. He refuses to go to school now.

-        Men don’t want to care for a disabled child, they leave. 

-     I’m disabled. As a man, I have pain in my heart because I can’t provide for my family. 

-        If a family with several children is poor and struggles with fees, you’re not going to send a disabled child to school, other children will be sent first. One young man said, ‘I’m not considered. I was left as a child and nobody thinks of me and education. What am I going to do?’ 

-        How can a PWD get married? No-one wants us, and if they did, a disabled girl’s family are too poor to have cows for the bride price.
-     How can we build houses?  How can we cut logs or climb trees? A blind person can’t build a house. Some can’t lift an axe. We don’t have money to ask someone else to build for us – so we have to live with family or outside.

On our second visit, our brilliant friend Francis encouraged the group to work together to help themselves. He told them ways they could be empowered and said the DSG should find sustainable ways to improve their own society.  As we shared lunch, the group were excited and encouraged, but my notebook says, ‘How do you change the attitudes of families and communities – when will there really be equality and justice?’

So why the dragon? I understand its hard to train a dragon – I think it will be hard to change attitudes and see PWD receive their rights.  And, although its starting to happen, in very rural areas there’s still a massive hurdle to tackle before children with mobility or sensory disorders can access education. 

And the last dragon…. Have a look at this https://www.globalcare.org/2018/01/making-waves-for-disability/ and let us know if you want to be part of Tom’s Dragon Slayer team at the Making Waves For Disability: Fundraising Dragon Boat Regatta on Saturday 30 June 2018.

The Ever Smart Aunt Saloon

I’ve woken refreshed and reasonably well rested – for the first time in 2 weeks no alarm! I’m in an air-conditioned room with a carpet, kingsized bed, desk, armchair, kettle – and large tiled bathroom.  Incredible luxury. We treated ourselves for the last night ready for an overnight flight tonight. Yesterday was mostly spent in the Toyota SuperCustom -  divided between hurtling down decent roads, negotiating unmade roads, and sitting in traffic jams.  We take turns sitting in the front as neither of us can cope with 7 hours of anxiety, fear and sometimes terror, between Mbale and Entebbe! The traffic jams were the worst, as cars, minibus taxis and boda-boda bikes jostled to get ahead – sometimes taking to driving down the wrong side of the road just to sneak advantage on the queue.  The situation is intensified by hawkers coming to the window selling everything from toys to bananas, map posters to kebabs. Roundabouts are worse – no-one gives way as every driver tries to prove he is the bravest- we came close to colliding with several taxis. The boda-bodas sometimes carry 2 adults and a child - I can’t look.  

Travelling from Soroti to Entebbe is fascinating (when your eyes are open) – watching the landscape change, different styles of houses, different produce on roadside stalls.  The nearer we got to the capital, the more produce was available to buy – and clear evidence of more rain in green scenery and variety of flourishing crops.  In the North, there were mostly food crops – cassava, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, maize, and in Mbale we saw coffee, bananas and matooke. Nearer Kampala were tea and sugar plantations- cash crops, and big nurseries selling plants and fruit trees. 

Snoozing in the back of the car, there was time to reflect on our trip.  To remember incredible stories from ex-sponsored children, how Global Care enabled them to lift their families out of poverty by equipping them with literacy and numeracy, practical skills, vocational training, or a school education leading to University. I thought of the village children sleeping on the floor in dark huts in the stifling heat, who told us rats shared their homes.  Then there’s the Ark, which cares for disabled children meaning families can work. We were utterly delighted with the progress of the Ark children, learning to read and write, stand and walk, toilet trained and feeding and washing themselves – skills we never imagined possible last time we were here.  The Disability Support Groups (DSG) were inspirational – with support and guidance from Global Care and people like Francis, they are empowered and given hope. Able to come out from ‘behind the curtain.’ 

The achievements of the staff of twelve are phenomenal: 189 sponsored children (and nearly 150 on the waiting list) who receive education, welfare and medical support. There was a constant stream of children, parents and ex-sponsored children at the office. Then there’s the Ark, on-site skills training centre (including looking after several boarders), vocational training schemes in partnership with local businesses, DSGs, community work, tent hire, wheelchair supply, and a garden producing food for the centre. They were the first group to respond to the drought crisis, their food distribution lauded locally and featuring on local TV as an example of great community care and service.

Schools partnerships are a fantastic initiative and include supporting development of land to feed the whole school once a day, improved buildings and latrines, and staff accommodation. This results in improved retention of good teachers – a national problem in Uganda. Parents want to send their children to Global Care partner schools. 

Behind all this, there remains huge injustice throughout the country. Rural families struggle to survive with subsistence farming or work as day labourers. In urban areas there are endless street sellers, children collecting plastic bottles from rubbish heaps, and day labour in construction. Everything costs twice as much in the big cities – Charles was reluctant to let us buy him a proper lunch yesterday as it was so expensive (£5).

As we turn into tourists, I am so grateful for my Mum introducing us to Global Care 34 years ago. We are humbled and privileged to have the opportunity to visit this awesome country – and see for ourselves how our money is spent. Every trip reinforces our trust and respect for Global Care. Our money goes so far here – and not just for individual children – for whole communities.  

This year we’re supporting the Global Care 35^th Anniversary Appeal for a boarding section for children with disability in Rukungiri in the south of Uganda. We’re also even more determined to help find more sponsors. We think it is an incredible way to spend money – to invest in the future of children who have no hope, and support communities with literally nothing.

For more info: https://www.globalcare.org/product/sponsor/

https://www.globalcare.org/2018/01/building-ability-in-disability/

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/barbara-heyes-access-to-school-access-to-a-future

We've just returned from a trip to the Botanic Gardens - wow!

And the title – the name of a beauty shop we passed on the road yesterday.

Farmer Chameleon

We leave Soroti at 8.15am after prolonged goodbyes to the lovely hotel staff. Always pleasant and cheerful, they were very helpful with Tom’s strange diet (though he might skip chapatti and tilapia for a while).  I always say Uganda is very beautiful – and it truly is, but as we drive out of Soroti past piles of plastic rubbish glinting in the early morning sunshine, we’re reminded that nothing is straightforward in this country! We pass thick smoke where rubbish is burning, but there is too much rubbish, and inadequate waste disposal systems. We were told they closed down the plastic factories in Uganda, but businesses can buy cheap plastic bags from Kenya – because they’ve banned plastic bags.  Crazy world.

School starts today and there are queues of people outside the banks – presumably many are trying to pay school fees. Universal Primary Education is great – until you have to buy compulsory uniforms, shoes, books, pencils, (a razor blade does for a pencil sharpener), and pay a contribution for ‘school maintenance’.  As we drive out of town, we see children collecting water from pumps –late or absent from school.

Out of town, we drive through wide plains with roadside huts and schools. Narrow paths lead away from the road, disappearing into the distance or the bush. People we spot walking head for villages several miles down these dusty tracks.  Speed bumps herald a succession of roadside villages, brick houses, shelters, and stalls selling vegetables. Then we pass through the swamp. A vast area of grass and water. We see someone standing in the water up to his waist – he’s fishing. Fred told us about fishing for mud fish – hoping your hook doesn’t catch a massive dangerous black snake lurking in the filthy water.

After the swamp we pass acres of apparently uninhabited land – then spot clusters of huts in the distance, or see a child with a stick guarding skeletal cows grazing on dry tufts of grass. Other children play football, sell food, carry bowls of logs and produce on their heads – others are at school.  I fall asleep. Suddenly Tom wakes me, in the distance is a huge mountain range – the Elgon mountains separating Kenya and Uganda. Vast high ridges reach up into the clouds.  The car starts to climb up towards the hills, steep drops making it hard work for Charles. It gets worse when we hit the roadworks – clouds of dust and dirt obscure the view ahead.

Eventually we arrive at Sipi. We find a guide and negotiate a price to see all 3 waterfalls. Tom and I change into walking trainers, and we’re given 3 long walking sticks, we have to take them, no option to opt out. We set off along a dusty track. Our guide, Julius, stops to show us an ‘important’ leaf. It is used as toilet paper,  a hanky, and when eaten, cures worms. Who knew? Not us! We are shown coffee beans, Julius explains the difference between a matooke and a banana plant. After a hot climb, we reach the waterfall. It is beautiful and immense. Water tumbles down, crashing and splashing on the rocks below, creating a shimmering mist in the sun.

A boy appears to show us a chameleon. Photos taken, he asks for money. We pay up – no problem.

Back in the car, we drive up an bumpy, potholed road full of deep ridges. We can’t imagine what it’s like in the rain.  Eventually we arrive at a parking place where families are hoeing and harvesting potatoes. An old lady sits by a sack of tiny potatoes. The harvest is poor this year. Its back-breaking work.  We walk a short distance and start climbing, then clomping through sticky wet mud and rocks. Round a corner are 2 waterfalls – it doesn’t take long before we’re soaked. We’re told this isn’t what it’s usually like – now its hot and dry and there’s hardly any water! Its spectacular to us.

We visit a viewpoint for the last waterfall. Look from above, we can see the vast plains of Karamoja. Julius tells us the Karimojong (cattle raiders) repeatedly came to Sipi, took all the cattle and killed the men. The community decided to help the women and now there’s a widow’s coffee cooperative. He takes us to buy coffee! Then we drive to Mbale and our hotel for the night.  Our room is basic but fine, and oh joy, overlooks the swimming pool. I manage a few lengths – I am incredibly unfit after this trip – and suspect I’ve put on weight.

As we rest by the pool, I realise I haven’t really stopped for 9 days. Up at 6.30 in the week, still writing blogs at 9.30pm with the rubbish Wifi, or preparing for the next day’s meetings and workshops.  Then I remember the hotel staff, the children, the farmers. I wonder if the concept of leisure is a western luxury.  In Uganda you only get a break if you have a professional job, otherwise your family doesn’t eat on the days you don’t work. If you’re not at school or work, you’ll be working in a garden somewhere, or helping your family in another way. Note to self, don’t take holidays for granted.

Tomorrow we travel to Entebbe for our last night.

And.. I broke dry January with a very nice Nile beer this evening....

Tea, Mites and Termites

I'm impressed that some people read every blog. Takes real commitment. Thanks very much. It's encouraging to have comments and see blogs shared. Today's been a day of encouragement. Our day started at Pamba Pentecostal Assemblies of God church at 8.30. We went for 2 reasons, David asked us, and Tom went to PAG in 2012, and Pastor Joseph and Pastor Simon helped him with his research.

They have a great heart for people with disabilities. We arrived as instructed in time for the 2nd service, to find the 1st service only halfway through.  David isn't known for accurate time keeping -  we should have known. We tried to wait outside, but were hustled into the building and directed to fancy chairs at the front. The leader made a comment about people being late and missing introductions but made us stand up anyway. Tom explained that we weren't sure if we were late for the 1st service or early for the 2nd. There was then a lengthy sermon which was challenging and entertaining. Excellent.  This was the English service which helped. The fabulous preacher was undeterred by the escaping chicken (a collection contribution) or small children coming behind him to peer at the Whites.

There were some excellent quotes, including:

'When you pray, God's delay is not God's denial, be patient, He knows you personally.'
'Don't lose your temper, nobody wants it, everyone has a temper.'

After an hour, the service finished, we found David outside, and went back inside for the 2nd service in the local language, Ateso. We sat at the back. There was exuberant praise with singing, jumping and dancing. Then I joined the children. Bizarrely, Tom chose to stay in the service for a repeat of the sermon in Ateso. I had a brilliant time with 75 1-14 year olds (half the children are still in the villages for the school break). The children led singing and prayers, then we had a talk from the Sunday School teacher. I was asked to talk to the children at 3 points in the session. For some inexplicable reason I'd forgotten this would happen. I bottled out the 1st time and stuck to hellos and greetings, 2nd time I managed a story, 3rd time I resorted to songs. Songs proved a great success. Before long everyone was joining in including the young drummer. We had lots of laughs... Until the point where they decided they'd sing 'my' songs to the main church next week and we had to repeat until word perfect - a hot, tiring process.

Tom and David were chatting with Pastor Joseph, then just as we were about to leave, we were led to a table and chairs under a tree and served tea, bottled water, bread, and termites. It was an honour to be served food with the pastor. Ugandans are incredibly welcoming, any hospitality comes with food of some kind. Tom tried the termites first, but soon we were all happily munching and crunching. They were fried with garlic and chilli and not bad! We learnt the lady who prepared them has a business and people come for all round to buy her termites. Collecting them is a laborious, time consuming activity.. And not without hazard. The business made it possible for the lady to build a house and buy livestock. She even gave a pig to the church.

We had a quick turnaround then went to our friend Michael's for lunch. We were served a feast of rice, potatoes, chapattis, cabbage, pork, chicken and smoked fish, and cassava for Tom.  During the afternoon, children kept arriving, until there were about 35.  It was too hot to play so they amused themselves until Tom produced his tin whistle to entertain them. Finally the awaited moment arrived - out came the 'Par-a-chute'. At maximum capacity, I counted 85 children. I stopped playing when we reached 60 due to risky over-crowding.  The flapping silk blew up huge clouds of dust and straw. I can't tell you how much I enjoy watching Uncle Mike in action. He does this because he loves children and they love this single opportunity for organised play in their community.

The parachute is a 'Wightman' model, bought by a family at our church. It came here in 2010 and only has one patched rip. Mike has adapted games I taught him, or he read in books, so they have a Ugandan twist. I love it. This parachute has brought joy to the lives of 100s of children over the years. When you watch shy, barefoot children in ragged clothes shrieking with laughter and delight you can't help but laugh with them.

I'm thinking about commitment tonight... The way Pamba PAG has grown and flourished and cares for people in desperate situations- through the commitment of the leaders and church family. My limited commitment to persevering in my Christian walk or in the work of Global Care.  The commitment of the local team here, who work to find ways to support vulnerable children both at work and at home.

Now I'm going to pack, ready for another holiday day tomorrow and the journey to Mbale.