Giggles in the Ark

I’ve had a brilliant day!  I’ve been in the Ark – the disability daycare centre at Soroti.  Today there were 7 children, 3 were new to me, the others are old friends. I carefully chose my clothes this morning – a dark patterned loose skirt (I have to wear skirts for the office and fieldwork, trousers are only culturally appropriate at the hotel or at weekends) that wouldn’t show any dirt but would allow some grace in getting up and down off the floor, and a yellow top.  I popped into the Ark the day we arrived and was immediately greeted by very sticky lunch covered hands. Some of the children have visual impairments but can see colour – so I went for the brightest top in the cupboard. I was ready…

I love the Ark.  Two of the staff are well known to us. They are incredible dedicated, caring and compassionate young women.  They handle the children with sensitivity and kindness, whether they’re stretching contracted limbs, singing simple songs, playing or joking and laughing.  That’s one of the amazing things about the Ark – there is so much laughing and smiling. I’ve been reviewing the children’s records today – last time we were here I made some recommendations with my ‘information management’ hat on. Oh joy! The records are excellent – so much better than before. This is partly due to the new manager who is not only extremely competent and suitably qualified, but also great with the children.  Back to the records…. I’ve also been asked to collect some information for a trip in the summer, which meant I had a good read of the files.  Reminding myself about the children’s backgrounds, their home and family life and the extent of their disabilities makes the happy, fun atmosphere even more remarkable.

My mate John lives with his grandmother. He doesn’t always make it to the Ark as his grandmother goes back to the village a lot. When they’re in the village, his physical therapy stops. This means his progress is slow – after the holidays it takes a while for his flexed joints to straighten again. John is a bundle of energy. His favourite trick is to get you to think you’re helping him stand, then start jumping and leaping so you’re carrying all his weight while he shrieks with laughter.  He loves playing with his friends and any adult whose willing.  It’s easy to forget that when he first came, he was shy and didn’t really move.

Rose is one of the new children. She hardly ever stops moving – charging about the room using a kind of jumping crawl. She follows John’s lead so as soon as he started trying to stand on me, she came over and started grabbing my legs and arms. I had a good game going with Rose, John and another boy involving a large ball – but eventually it disintegrated into a fight over the ball! Poor Tom came into the Ark and had them both trying to use him to stand at the same time, then 3 children all wanting to play a clapping game with him.  Rose has a few words and seems to understand most things – she’s a good imitator so the hope is that she will learn to count and read through repetition. 

Several children come from very large families with up to 12 dependants. Most live in completely inadequate one-roomed grass-thatched huts. Their families struggle to work and eat. Several are single-parent families after their fathers abandoned their disabled child. Having their children at the Ark means mums can work.    

At the end of the day, the children are all showered and given clean clothes. It’s the first time I’ve been around at bath time. There’s nothing like the abandoned glee of children being sprayed with water – Tom could hear the noise at the other end of the building! I was very happy to help with drying and dressing – though applying nappies was challenging (how are you supposed to know which way round they go?). Once the children were all clean, they sat quietly on a mat, knowing it was nearly time for the van to take them home. I disturbed the peace by discovering a ticklish child… irresistible.   As we all relaxed, piles of dirty clothes and wet towels surrounding us on the floor, John climbed onto my lap and snuggled in for a cuddle.  Ron, who had been bashing me in a ‘friendly’ way earlier, rested his head on my lap. The youngest, newest, child gave the first hint of a smile.

It has been a good day.

There is Salt in the Sea?

You’ve got to love a product that lasts 10 years of rough treatment at the hands of 100s of children. The ‘Wightman Mark 1’ parachute was out today – its definitely on the way out, but even with a frayed edge and several patches it provided fun and merriment for about 100 small children this afternoon.

Its our last weekend in Uganda, barring strikes at Brussels airport we’ll be home on Thursday. Yesterday (Saturday) morning we had a workshop with 4 of the staff, looking at work they’ve done on Vocational Skills Training.  We’ll gloss over that fact that we started over an hour late – village business required someone to sort out a family issue first thing in the morning.  Starting late gave me opportunity to try my hand at hoeing (absolutely hopeless – the Ugandans fell about laughing).

Schools here are very academically focussed, children aren’t taught many practical subjects. Global Care uses several different models for skills training as an alternative to O’ Levels, and we’d planned a brainstorm (sorry if that’s un-pc, it’s the word Fred used!) to look at potential options for a new Vocational Skills Training (VTS) programme in Soroti.  In Uganda there’s no government support if you’re out of work – on any level.  If you leave school with O’ Levels you’re unlikely to get even an office job, and most of our children can’t afford to study for A’ Levels never mind further education.  Gaining a skill means you should have a better chance of earning some money – from a paid job to setting up a small tailoring business at your home in the village.  Most people in this area are agricultural day labourers, hoping for work in someone’s field and going hungry on days when there’s no work.  We’ve met plenty of young people with O’ Levels working in the fields.  There are some apprenticeships available, but at the minute the business owners can’t guarantee a job. And how many of us knew at 16 exactly what we wanted to do as a lifelong career? If you go on a VTS that’s probably your last chance at formal ‘education.’

We had a good discussion and came up with some recommendations. David is writing that report, so we came back to the hotel to catch up with other work.  By the time we were ready for supper we’d worked on a policy and a project plan for Rukungiri, written a review report on the Disability Support Group, finished the Playscheme report ready for discussion on Monday, Tom had watched some footy, and I was exhausted!

It was difficult getting out of bed this morning, but we’d arranged to meet Fred at 8.30am at Deliverance church for the morning service – I forced myself to dress in smart clothes and be ready for a lift to church.  When we arrived it had already started. There was no power and the worship leader was belting out choruses to the accompaniment of an acoustic guitar – and occasionally drums. To our surprise we knew the songs.  Before long I could feel the tension dissolving.  The electricity came back on, and with the singers miked up and accompanied by a keyboard, the whole room was filled with sound. Songs moved from English to local Ateso and Kiswahili.  People began to dance and jump and generally Praise God. Going to Deliverance church is quite cathartic! I don’t know if its God or the people, but in that simple brick room with white walls and a tin roof my exhaustion and fatigue lifted, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and came out energised and refreshed. The speaker talked about Noah, I want to be in the ‘Ark’, in the place God wants me and doing what He wants me to do.  I needed reminding.

This afternoon we were invited to Michael (who works for Global Care) and his wife Veronica’s house.  We were treated to a feast – visitors are always made incredibly welcome. Veronica produced goat stew, chicken stew, fish, cassava, rice, potatoes, chapatis, avocado and passion fruit and water melon.  Local food served with generosity and humility.  We (including Charles) can talk with Michael for hours, but outside we could hear children gathering.  10½ years ago, I handed Michael a play parachute for children at Global Care (a gift from friends). Today we joined in as Michael played with the same parachute with an ever-increasing crowd of children. The games are adapted and invented to suit the place and the children, and before long there was a mass of shrieking, laughing children, all skilfully coordinated by ‘Uncle Michael’.  We left hot, tired and happy.

We spent some time today trying to explain ‘the sea’ to Charles and Michael! They’ve never seen the sea and couldn’t imagine how the water comes to the beach. They were astonished at the idea of swimming in the sea. We showed them photos of the Zanzibar, County Durham and Yorkshire coasts. Its easy to forget how lucky we are to be able to travel, to experience different countries and cultures.  

It’s easy to forget that for many people, the concept of every house having running water and electricity seems an impossible dream.  We all make assumptions about other countries and can’t begin to imagine what life is like for people in other continents if we haven’t visited or experienced it first-hand.  Today I felt completely at home in church, with Michael’s family, and playing parachute games with children.  But my life is literally a world apart and I’ll be going home to comfort, food variety, hot showers, reliable power, easy transport and reliable roads, free healthcare, swimming… The list is endless. I am truly grateful for my life, the tricky part is using it well and fighting against injustice, poverty and corruption… wherever we find it.

 

Chicken with Bees

I was tempted not to blog tonight. A thunderstorm threw out the power earlier so it wasn't an option. Now we have light and are reconnected I've been procrastinating. Today has been interesting!

We made another long, hot, bumpy trip to Abeko this morning. This time we'd arranged to meet the Disability Support Group (DSG). People were slow arriving... There'd been a burial this morning, and then a child died. David told us that now he's nearly 40 he's considered an old man in his village. Life expectancy is low and child mortality high in rural Uganda. When there is a death the community comes together. People support each other in tough times. We asked if we should cancel the meeting, but they wanted to go ahead.

The meeting starts. We are amazed by all the DSG has achieved. Last year each member paid a monthly contribution of about 20p. For some it was a struggle. The collection meant some families could benefit from loans... People paid for treatment for a disabled child, started a business, and bought special food for a disabled child. Cash flow is a problem for day workers. The money is paid back with interest. This year the contributions have doubled to 40p.

We learn more about the partnerships with other organisations. The DSG has 3 ongoing projects. As well as the Playscheme, they have started an Apiary and a poultry project. A year ago we sat in the same hot room with a group of hesitant, anxious people. Now we hear how much they have achieved. With 20p/month from each member.

They start to talk about challenges. They're similar to those we hear everywhere. The roads are poor, the children have no walking aids. People carry disabled children on their backs because there are no wheelchairs. Some families have a bicycle but we hear from one man whose bicycle is broken so he can't transport his disabled child. He can't afford to get it repaired. There is no local healthcare. The government health centre has no staff and no medicine. Children are dying because there's no way to get them to hospital and no money for treatment.

The chairman starts to close the meeting. Once again we are thanked for coming, for caring, for helping them with a workshop last time. David is thanked for his tireless support and Global Care's partnership and support. We should respond but I can't speak. My chest is tight, my whole body is welling up with emotion. Somehow we get to the end. I don't deserve this thanks.

The mood changes as we're taken to see the beehives. The group are excited to show us the wooden hives donated by the local government. They've learnt to make local hives too - wooden frames coated in cow dung. Bees are starting to gather. They've sent someone to learn about poultry farming, he's full of information... The best breed and type to buy, how to care for them what to feed them. His enthusiasm us infectious.

We come back to our clean hotel for a refreshing shower. We pay our hotel bill - we have to pay cash and sometimes ATMs run out of money, so we're paying in advance. We realise our final bill will be about the same amount as the annual Global Care support for a DSG.

Every time we come we get to this point. The DSG has achieved an incredible amount with very little resource. They've built a thriving supportive network and are working hard to make it self-sustainable. A child's wheelchair costs £150. How many wheelchairs could we buy for the cost of our trip? And is that the right thing to do? We'll go back and talk to Global Care - they will know the best way to help. We are rich by any measure, but we can't begin to understand the poverty here.

Tonight I'm thrilled and excited by Abeko DSG. I'm challenged and embarrassed by my lifestyle. I have no idea what or how to change but you have licence to challenge me in the coming months.