The Children of Lake Wamala

           On one of the days we visited a small village by a lake called Wamala.  There we found these children and immediately began to play around with them and take pictures and laugh.  We gave them some stickers; but they didn´t know what they were.  To better explain their function we stuck them on their arms to show them that they could be used as decoration.  They laughed and laughed at this funny first-world toy and I realized that there is absolutely no point to stickers. So I laughed too :).  But our idea worked, and before we knew it they had stickers on the cheeks, arms, foreheads, ears.  And all along they just laughed and laughed.  In the whole two weeks we were in Uganda, the children of Lake Wamala were the most impoverished that I saw... and here come these westerners to visit their village.  Westerners who have money and are supposed to give aid.  Unfortunately, at that time all we had were stickers, but stickers were not going to improve their situation.  Yet they did not seem to care that these white women were giving them something completely useless and foreign to them.  They were still smiling and laughing and so happy to see us.  And I hope that if you look at the photographs carefully, I hope that you can see their innocence and that they can bring you a sense of peace and joy, as they did with me.

        Un día fuimos a visitar un pequeño pueblito en las orillas del lago Wamala.  Ahí nos encontramos con estos niños y comenzamos a jugar, sacar fotos y a reírnos con ellos.  De regalo les dimos unos pegotines que teníamos, pero no sabían lo que eran. Entonces, para explicarles para qué servían, se los pegamos a los brazos para que vieran que podían servir como decoración.  Se rieron al darse cuenta de la función de ese juguete raro del primer mundo... y yo me di cuenta de que los pegotines no sirven para mucho, y me reí también :) Pero nuestra idea de pegárselos al cuerpo funcionó, y pronto los niños tenían pegotines por los cachetes, la frente, los brazos, las orejas.  ¡Cómo se rieron! ¡Y cómo nos hicieron reir!  En las dos semanas que estuve en Uganda no vi pobreza tan impactante como la de este pueblo.  No tenian más que lo que se ve en las fotos. Y ahí fuimos a parar nosotras, del primer mundo, privilegiadas porque tenemos agua limpia, comida, zapatos, ropa... con la obligación de ayudarlos y aliviar la probreza en la que viven. Lamentablemente, lo único que les trajimos fueron pegotines; invento sin propósito alguno que les tuvimos que explicar para qué los podían usar.  Pero a ellos no les importó.   Ellos igual estaban contentos de recibirnos, alegres, sonrrientes y tan inocentes.  Espero que las fotos puedan reflejar por lo menos un poquito de esa paz tan linda que me hicieron sentir los niños del lago Wamala.

Enseñaras a volar, pero no volarán tu vuelo.  Enseñaras a soñar, pero no soñaran tus sueños.  Enseñaras a vivir, pero no vivirén tu vida.  Sin embargo, en cada vuelo, en cada vida, en cada sueño, perdurará siempre la huella del camino enseñado.

- Madre Teresa de Calcuta

No tenemos en nuestras manos las soluciones para los problemas del mundo. Pero frente a los problemas del mundo, tenemos nuestras manos.

- Mamerto Menapace

 I did not tell her to pose.. I pointed the camera towards her and she immediately put her hands together and looked up at me... the only reason I didn´t start crying right there in front of her was because I was afraid of scaring her.

No le dije que pose. Puse la camara en su dirección y inmediatamente juntó sus manitos y me miró... la única razón por la cual no me puse a llorar ahí enfrente de ella fue porque no quería asustarla.

Es Navidad cada vez que sonríes a un hermano y tiendes la mano.  Es Navidad cada vez que estás en silencio para escuchar al otro.  Es Navidad cada vez que no aceptas aquellos pincipios que destierran a los oprimidos al margen de la sociedad.  Es Navidad cada vez que esperas con aquellos que desesperan en la pobreza física y espiritual.  Es Navidad cada vez que reconoces con humildad tus límites y tu debilidad. Es Navidad cada vez que permites al Señor renacer para darlo a los demás.

Madre Teresa de Calcuta

Dios prefiere nuestra fidelidad en las cosas pequeñas que nos encomienda, mucho más que el ardor por las grandes que no dependen de nosotros. 

- San Francisco de Sales

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Final reflection: The beginning

I could spend hours and hours photographing these children and seeing them smile and laugh like this!!
Photo taken by LeeAnn

            We left Uganda, spent an incredible and unforgettable 20 hours in London and have been in the US for a few days now.  I am still incapable of comprehending the magnitude and impact of this trip.  So much happened!  I guess I will see the results of it later down the road when in retrospect I see how this trip has changed me.  What I do know, however, is that I will not keep my arms crossed.  I want to do more for Uganda, for the people and the children and for all of those we met that were so welcoming and kind and in need of our help.  That is why I say that this trip was just the beginning.  I do not want to stop here, and I do not think that the group does either.  We have already been talking amongst us about other projects that we can do in the future, garbage bins, and definitely more water filters, the possibilities and needs are endless, and our motivation just as much.  Our personal financial resources may not cause dramatic changes in the lives of so many Ugandans in need, but I know that with our communities, friends and families we can do so much good!  We have the capability to make another positive change in Uganda, and I will not let that opportunity go by.  I do not think I could live with myself knowing that I met so many people that need my help, and that I could help, and not do anything about it.  They deserve a better life, clean water, shelter, clothing, a good diet and income, and I believe it is my duty, as someone lucky enough to have these luxuries, to help them obtain these basic needs. 

Oh how they liked the camera... :)
Photo taken by Brittany

            This trip has not only inspired in me a desire to help, but it has also forced me to question myself, by beliefs and actions, in ways I had never done before.  It has helped me to understand why I do the things I do and if I should continue with them or not.  There is still a lot I have to reflect on and figure out. 

The last day... these two little girls almost made me cry.  I will post about them separately, they were truly incredible, I didn´t want to leave them!!!!

            The pictures… will they come out as the portraits of poor, suffering children and just remain as memories from a journey?  Or will they actually have an impact on the people that see them and inspire them to help?  I hope they do. 

            And what about everyone I met?  How will they be now?  I keep on thinking about everyone we met, looking at the watch, adding 10 hours and trying to imagine what they are doing at this exact moment.  Their lives will continue and so will mine… but will they ever cross again?  We met so many wonderful, wonderful people… will I ever see them again??  Will they be okay??  Will their situations improve, or get worse?  I will pray for them.

At the seminary we visited with one of the students.  We played basketball with the boys, talked about music, hobbies... so fun! 

The students, teachers and nun at a school we visited.  We had so much fun with them! They put music and we all started dancing and laughing... I will create a separate post about them! :)

            Before Africa I knew of the poverty that existed, the situation of the children, men and women living there and the struggles they faced.  Most people now that, but we subconsciously chose not to think about it, put it far in the back of our minds and continue with our lives. But now that I have seen it, and met those people, the memories of will never disappear and I do not think it will be very easy to put it to the side like before.  I don´t want to.  That is why Uganda has changed me, and helped to become a different person than the one that stepped out of the little yellow staircase of the plain in the Entebbe airport.  I know it sounds corny and the phrase has been used a million times, but it is true.  I cannot say how exactly, I do not want to say that it has made me a better person, one with a wider view of the world, that it has opened my eyes to another reality, that it has made me more grateful for what I have and inspired me to help others… because although all that is true…  This trip was so much more than that!  Saying that those were the results does not do it justice, and does not even come close to the reality of it all.  I am humbled, and grateful for the opportunity that I had.  I would never, in a million years, have imagined myself in UGANDA.  There are no more words that I can say about this trip.  Anything I say about it will come short of what I am feeling.  Yet, I hope that I am able to turn all of this, these feelings and confusion, into aid that will help Uganda, and try to give back a little of what it gave me.

On the boat trip at Murchison Falls.  Some are missing, but I could not have asked for a better group of individuals to share this experience with!
Photo taken by Brittany

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The Power of Photography

Day 6:  The Power of Photography                                                                 20 May 2012

            Ever since yesterday I cannot stop thinking about Justine and her friends, they way their faces lit up when they saw the camera, held it, saw the pictures that were taken.  I love photography and taking pictures, but their enthusiasm for it was far beyond what I have ever experienced.  It was absolutely incredible. 

            The joy that one picture, especially a portrait, brings these children is something I cannot even explain with words. 

         When I think about how some of these children may have never seen themselves in a mirror, let alone a camera or a photograph of themselves… I try, but can’t quite comprehend what that must feel like.  I grew up looking in the mirror, taking pictures all the time and posing and having “model photoshoots” with my sister when bored.  I cannot remember the first time I saw a camera, my picture, my reflection in a mirror, anything… for me it is just… normal.  It was bewildering to learn that this was not the case for these children.  I had never sat down and pondered about this.  If I had, of course the idea does not seem irrational or far-fetched, but since it is such a normal thing for me, I never thought of thinking of the power a photograph can have prior to coming here. 

            Some children know that muzungus (white people) have cameras that show the image in the back, and after taking their picture they look at you and at the camera, waiting for you to turn it around and show them the result.  Others are surprised when this happens.  But all of them, no exceptions, laugh like crazy when they see themselves on the screen!  A timid laugh, but such a joyous one!  True, true happiness. 

So Happy!!

    There are also those that have asked me to take a “snap” of them.  The ones that know a little English say “photo?”  And the children… they just look at the camera with those beautiful eyes, full of excitement, enthusiasm and curiosity.  Often they do not speak, but it is not hard to decipher what they want.

            On the day we went to the market a young man walked towards me from one of the fabric shops and standing straight and still in front of me asked, “my photograph?”  I never saw that man again, I interacted with him for about one minute and then he left, and I left.  He saw his picture for about five seconds.  I took the camera, with his photograph.  He wasn’t even able to keep the photograph, but he was still so happy and excited to have it taken.                                                                                                                                      Then there are those that have little interest in the camera and become offended if asked to take a picture of them, like the ginger woman at the market. 

            I find the stark contrast very interesting, yet so logical.  Just like when we were walking around the market and everyone looked at us, taking pictures sometimes receives a similar response.  And I could not understand them more.  Who are we to go around taking pictures of people, as if they were museum pieces, or pretty flowers with bees on them?  Since when have people and their surroundings, because they are so drastically different from our reality, become an object of art?  Of exotic material worth showing to our friends and families so that they may see how far we went, how poor the people are, how horrible their lives are, how much they suffer.  Again, we have no right to do so and should be ashamed if that is what our objective is when we point the camera at someone or something. 

            This had crossed my mind before, while in the US, but I had never pondered on it, nor did I know the answer to whether or not that was actually the reality.  Realizing this has truly challenged me to reflect and question myself as to why… why do I take pictures of these people and their country?  Am I unconsciously doing the same thing that upon reflection find so repulsive?  Treating people as objects?  Artifacts from a far off land, from another reality?  As a sort of entertainment to show first world citizens to widen their knowledge of the world?  I will be honest, this is not something that has been easy for me to do.  Today I was taking some pictures of a few children we saw along the road and these questions and thoughts kept bugging me.  I want to believe that I am not using my photography for these reasons.  And I truly think that that is the truth.  But I can’t help but to think that it could well be mistaken for all those selfish motives. 

            In reality, there are various reasons why I am so interested in photographing the people here in Uganda.  And yes, one reason is because of the empathy component.  Back in the US I saw many pictures of African children, on National Geographic, on the internet, on pamphlets of charities and NGO’s asking for donations to help the starving children.  These photographs caused such empathy in me that more than once I donated money, read more about an issue, and tried to tell my friends, family and myself to be more grateful for what we have.  And I know that others with more economic resources donate larger amounts of money, and travel to places like Uganda to help people, and create foundations, and build hospitals and schools like many of the ones we see here.  And all because of photographs that they saw of individuals living in a reality different from theirs.  This is one of the aims I hope to achieve with my photography here.  But I have noticed that that is not as easily said than done.  There is a fine line that separates the search for empathy in others and the use of human beings as objects of marketing, status or profit.  And it is that line that scares me. 

            However, once I started reflecting on this, I realized that apart from the fact that I hope that one day my photography can help these individuals and not just remain as memories of a journey, there is something else about Uganda that draws me to photograph it.  And that, I found out is the happiness of the children.  It is so REAL.  HAPPINESS as I have never seen it before.  The children here are carefree, liberated, independent, brave, strong, curious, and confident.  I am not sure why, but I just cannot help but to try to capture their character in their photographs.  I don’t know if I photograph them because I want to remember their faces, their smiles, and their spirit, or simply because I want others to see their beautiful smiles.  Those reasons seem so selfish to me that it’s hard to think about them.

            But there is one aspect, the most important, about the children in particular that makes me want to spend hours and hours photographing them (as opposed to most adults or places) and that makes me feel better about the selfish reasons: their response.  Like I said, they get so happy when they see their picture!  They have very difficult lives, yet they see themselves on a screen and they seem to be the happiest children in the entire world! I keep on telling myself that I am making them happy with my photography, and thus, I am not doing anything wrong.  But am I?  Is this just an excuse that my unconscious mind is making?  Am I just another self centered girl with a camera taking pictures of poor little Ugandan children to show my friends and family?  I hope not.  Yes, I want my friends and family to see them, their smiles are so beautiful and their laugh so contagious.  And I want to somehow help them! But how?  Is photography really going to do that?

             I am getting confused.  I am going to sleep; it’s too late to be thinking about this, I will get a headache.

     …. Maybe that’s an excuse too…

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Day 3 Part 2: Margaret´s Village

Yesterday, after we ate, we went to the village where Fr. Kizito’s mother lives.  ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. 

            I thought I had seen poverty, but as we left the downtown of Mityana Kizito turned to me and said, “those people that live there (among the dirt of the city, walking on muddy roads, eating dirty meat taken from the ground, and fish that live in waters so intoxicated that they look black and dehydrated at the same time) … that’s the middle class.”

            The lower class was what I was about to see.

            On the sides of the dirt/muddy road that lead to Margaret’s village everything looked like a jungle.  The few huts that appeared here and there were made out of brick with metal sheets as roofs.  The surroundings were full of palm trees, bushes, trees, and green, green, green! 

            Some of the houses had people in front of them.  Women sitting on the ground cooking, children running around and playing, some were boiling water or making a fire.  Without fail, every house had the famous light yellow jerry cans lying around that they use to fetch water.  Some of the women were dressed with the traditional attire: dresses with pointy shoulders, colorful fabrics, and often a thick belt tied at the front and hanging) 

This is a picture of a women dressed in traditional attire that I took a few days later.

Many children were dressed in school uniforms.  And others… others were dressed with what  was once clothing.  On the side of the road children walked to school in their uniforms, some carrying books, others with their hands empty, women carrying straw on their heads (that they use to make crafts), more children carrying water home, men in bicycles.  

         

This picture was taken by Lake Wamala, where we went the following day, but this is how most of the houses looked.  Except here they are much closer together, usually each house had a little bit of land surrounding it and separating it from its neighbors. 

              Finally we got the Margaret’s home. Oh, I forgot to mention, she is called Margaret because in Uganda almost everyone has two names, one in Lugandan and one in English.  I think I recall someone telling me that it had something to do with the Church, baptism… but I am not positive)

            We entered into her little living room, a luxurious house compared to what we saw on our way there, and introduced ourselves.  Then we went over to the school to meet with the children.  When we were coming in with the car we had seen them playing around on the large field since the school was in front of her house. 

            As we approached the kids I nearly had a nervous breakdown/heart attack/serious case of tearing up.  There were about 50 children, all with their dark green uniforms (one could tell which ones went to school and which didn’t since there were some dressed in regular clothing).  In front of them were 10 chairs for us.  I looked at Brittany who was walking next to me and we both said, “No! they put chairs for us! I don’t want to sit on chairs and they on the ground, I want to sit with them!”  Again, I go that weird feeling.  Of course it is an honor and I feel very grateful for the kindness, but I just don’t like people to think of me as superior to them, or worse, having people feel inferior to me, even if it is just out of respect.  But what happened next left me with goosebumps, mute, and not knowing what to do.  All of a sudden all of the children who were sitting down rose up and began to applaud!  And it wasn’t just any applause either, it had rhythm and everything!  Shy and embarrassed I sat in one of the chairs and just stayed there looking at them while they kept on clapping and clapping away!

The beautiful children of Margaret’s village.

            

                Fr. Kizito introduced us and we said our names.  Then Sister Carla showed them how to use the chlorinator that we brought for them.  When it came time to make the chlorine you could hear “uuuuu”s and “aaaa”s and shy laughter.   That is one of the things that I love about the children here!  They laugh all the time!  About anything!  We wave at them from the van and they stop what they are doing, and start jumping up and down, screaming and laughing and waving both of their hands in the air.  And when I take their picture… oh my.. then they just die!  They go crazy!!  One time, I was taking pictures of the little children and one of them asked “could you take a picture of me alone?” “yes of course!”  But by the time that it took me to get the camera, hanging from my neck, to my eye, I looked through it and instead of 1, there were 10 children, pushing each other to appear in the photograph.  And when I showed them the photo, because they are very smart and clearly know that when “mzungu” come they have cameras that show they picture in the back, they would literally throw themselves on top of me and knock  me down!  And when they found each other in the photo they would scream and everyone would yell that person’s name and they were just so, so happy!  I truly, truly fell in love with those children.

The children seeing their photographs.

Photo taken by LeeAnn

            

                After meeting the school and the women groups some of the girls and I went over to play with the children.  We taught them some games and songs and they did the same.  When we finished showing them how the filter works, as a way to show us their gratitude, they sung us a beautiful song about education with a choreography and everything, and then we asked them to teach it to us when we were playing.  We taught them how to play duck duck goose and had so much fun!  At first they did not understand that you are supposed to tag the other person and would just run around behind each other until they sat down.  It was so funny to try to communicate!

Playing duck duck goose with the children

Photo taken by Brittany

The children’s HAPPINESS impressed me and made me so, so HAPPY!

            Not all of the children talked or understood English, but it was beautiful to see how at times when we told them something and they didn’t understand, others that did understand would come and translate for the rest!

            Fr. Kizito also introduced us to two groups of woman that make crafts to sell.  They were all dressed with the traditional clothing, (they all looked so beautiful and dressed up I felt underdressed with my dirty clothes and my untidy hair).  They got SO happy when LeeAnn gave each group $100 as a gift and we bought a lot of their work!  They would clap and do that typical African “scream” that goes something like “aiaiaiaiaiaiaiaaiai!!!!” I love it!!  I bought a beautiful colorful weaved basket from one of the ladies and when we left she nearly cried!

Photo taken by Brittany

The women groups that sold us their crafts.

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Day 2: the Real and the Sureal

Today we woke up a little late, but then we went down to the downtown of Mityana.  Simply amazing!   

            The market is located in a small plaza, where they sell fruits, vegetables, shoes, fish, cow meat, clothes, and every other thing one can imagine.  The people walk in between the small stands through little paths of red, slippery mud.  As I walked along the paths (with what seemed to be 999999 eyes staring at my every step waiting for me to trip on the mud) I smelled the people, the sweat, and depending on the stand I was passing by… fish, cow, vegetables, fruits… smog.

The small plaza, covered with umbrellas and women in colorful dresses and little children running around. The market of Mityana!
Photo taken by: Brittany       

             I heard some babies cry, people screaming in Lugandan back and forth, “mzungu mzungu!”  I wish I could enclose all those smells, sounds and textures in a little box and take it back to California with me!  It is all so… Uganda! 

             Just like automatically when I smell a cigarette I remember Uruguay, I know that these things I experienced today are going to be what will remind me of Uganda later on.  I love the fact that all of this, although far from my reality, is their way of life.  It makes me want to know about their daily lives!  What do people do here every day?  Yes, they go to get water and work on the gardens.. but anything else?  I wonder what they like to eat as a treat, and what is perceived as taboo, and what their daily routine is like, and what sort of music they listen to, and what they think of foreigners, and foreigners coming to their countries, and… what do they think of themselves?

Shoes at the market.  The women to the left had a tiny, beautiful baby and asked me to take a photograph of him!  I later lost the picture during the "formatting accident" but it was a very sweet picture!

Photo taken by: Bryce  

During our tour of the market I took some pictures, making sure to always as when I took pictures of individuals.  Whenever I saw pictures of individuals in National Geographic or another similar magazine, like the famous one of the Afghan girl, I always wondered how they do it, and how the people react to it.  Well, as far as I have seen, it is not so hard to ask, but the reactions can definitely not be generalized, everyone I asked reacted differently.  Many, happy and shy, nodded “yes.”  One man even stopped me in the street and asked me to take his picture!  But others did not want my camera to get even close to them…. Like it happened at the market today.

            I was just walking around, taking everything in, looking around as much as I could, trying to see everything, hear everything, experience everything… and occasionally taking some pictures of the general view.   One time I was trying to get a picture of the whole market (like the ones that you see here), when, through my camera I see a woman seating in the middle of a pile of green plantains, dressed in a blue and violet traditional female Ugandan attire, holding what looked like a large (and I mean very, very large) piece of ginger (or at least that’s what I think it was) on her right hand, flinging her hand back, ready to throw it at my head and screaming angrily at me in Lugandan.  I saw her through my camera and immediately took it away from my eye.  The woman put down the ginger, but kept screaming at me.  She did NOT want her picture taken!  And I was left there standing… facing my second (and fortunately last) traumatizing experience.  Of course, she didn’t know that I wasn’t taking a picture of her, and that I was actually taking a picture of the whole market and that I had not even noticed her sitting there until I saw her shaking the ginger at me through the camera.  But that experience left me thinking about it the entire day.  Immediately afterwards I was so in shock that I didn’t know where to turn, what to do, who to look at… should I just put the camera away?  Should I ask someone the translation and mouth “sorry” to her?  This might seem a little funny, but today I truly, truly realized I am in a different country.

            I came to this realization through both the sight of the market and the incident with the woman.  I can’t quite put it into words, and I am afraid that it will sound awfully childish and stupid when I say it, but here it goes…  I realized  that I was in a another country, completely unlike my own, not because of the differences in the look of it, but because of the nature of it.  In other words: the poverty, the starving children, the constant smell of sweat, the unhygienic conditions of the market, and everything else that is so, so different from what I have experienced in the past was not actually what had the effect of… “snapping me back to reality.”  No, at least today, it was the nature of the people.  The way they think, what they see as right, as wrong, as polite, as normal, as rude, etc, etc.  Just the way things are.  Because, although it is unfortunately very extreme here, there is poverty everywhere, there is violence everywhere, and disease everywhere and bad living conditions everywhere.  The state of each country may differ, but Uruguay, the U.S. and Uganda all include some level of those.  However, what made me realize that this is truly a different place is the people, because two countries may be identical in what one can see, smell, taste and hear, but the people will always be different; the people are what make a country, and Uganda is no exception.  I know this is confusing, and maybe I understand it in my own head because I have experienced it before.  Migrating to the U.S. showed me that, although I may be able to point out to people what I like and dislike about each country, that I want to move back to Uruguay because of the beaches, and the food, and that I don’t like the cold in the U.S., etc, all those excuses seem so… incomplete.  There is something else, apart from what can be seen and heard and that makes them different from each other, something a lot more powerful than the landscape or the weather or the economy or the education: the people.  Because  even if the two countries were exactly the same, I would still feel a special connection to Uruguay, because the people are like me.  We think alike, see similarly on things…. I don’t know how to explain it, but there is something that unites all citizens of a country, and that something cannot be explained or duplicated.  Uruguayans have that, Americans do, and Ugandans do to.  So, I guess that in conclusion, what made me “snap” into reality was the realization that I am a stranger here.  I am not part of them, and I will never be.

            Okay, I just reread that… I knew I wasn’t going to be able to properly express what I am trying to say.  I do not feel sad about it, and I am not trying to segregate, or alienate Uganda. No, no, no!  This was just the complicated process that my mind went through in the millisecond that I saw the woman with the ginger through my camera, and that then snowballed during the hours that followed making me realize that I am in another country.   So much for such a simple realization….That’s all.  And now, since I have been thinking so much about it my head is starting to hurt, and I cannot understand anything anymore... I am going to sleep.

Some of the women at the market.  I did not take this picture, and I had not realized it before, but I looked closely at the picture and actually the Ginger Woman is here!  On the far left you can see her, still looking pretty angry!  LeenAnn took this picture, I was to her left, so it was probably around the time the picture was taken that she was yelling at me!  This is crazy, I had't realized she came up on a picture!

Photo taken by: LeeAnn

Some of the women at the market.  I did not take this picture, and I had not realized it before, but I looked closely at the picture and actually the Ginger Woman is here!  On the far left you can see her, still looking pretty angry!  LeenAnn took this picture, I was to her left, so it was probably around the time the picture was taken that she was yelling at me!  This is crazy, I had't realized she came up on a picture!

Photo taken by: LeeAnn

-Magda

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Uganda!!!!

Hello again!  I am back from Uganda!!!  The trip was incredible, I can´t quite find the right words to describe it, but it was unforgettable! 

To give a little background on the trip/class… it was officially called Uganda 2012 Engaged Learning class.  LeeAnn, a professor of psychology at my university, and Sister Carla who works in the Campus Ministry department, had previously visited Uganda.  They got the idea of creating this class and through their contacts and much, much generous support from sponsors and individuals they were able to put it together.  They put out an application, I randomly heard about it and thinking that I had nothing to lose and that I was probably not going to get chosen to go on this platonic trip anyway, I applied.  In December I traveled to Uruguay and there, on top of my grandmother´s terrace (the only place where I cold find wi-fi at her house) I checked my email and saw that I had been accepted!

So, since January, the group of ten women selected (Sam, Brittany, Nora, Bryce, Sandy, Lianni, Monica, Nicole, Ashley, and I) met once a month with Sister Carla and LeeAnn to plan what we wanted to do in Uganda.  The best thing about this trip was just that… we planned it all!  We chose what we wanted to do, how to do it, everything!  After some research on what was most needed in Uganda, we broke up into groups and decided to focus on different areas that interested us.  Then, each group came up with a “lesson plan” to present at two fairs that we organized alongside our contact, Father Kizito.  The subjects were varied and included:

                                Animal husbandry and raising chickens (Ashley)

                                Nutrition (Nicole and Brittany)

                                How to start a small business (Sam and Monica)

                                Composting (Sandy and Nora)

                                Feminine Hygiene (Lianni)

                                Clean Water (Sister Carla)

                                Hygiene: Washing hands and brushing teeth (Bryce and I!)

Aside from teaching during the two fairs, which occurred on the 19^th and 25^th of May (my birthday!), we also visited many villages, parishes and schools around the area of Mityana, about two hours away from the capital Kampala.  From the 22^nd to the 24^th we took a little break and traveled to the northern area of the country, Murchison Falls, for some touristy glamour, animal watching, and an incredibly immense number of mouth dropping moments!

During the journey I kept a journal, both to obtain units for the class and for my own sake, and I will now be posting it here for you to hopefully vicariously experience some of the magnificent times I had there! Taking pictures, as you will soon see through my diary entries, was a very profound and intense experience, which I am still reflecting on now…. 

I hope you enjoy the journal and the photographs!!  Feedback is very welcome!!

Happy reading!!

-Magda :)

NOTE: unfortunately, on the first day of the trip I lost all my pictures (accidently formatted my card…L) So the first few pictures are not mine, they were taken by my wonderful journey partners!

**Para los que hispanohablantes**  El diario lo tuve que escribir en Inglés para que me den crédito en la facultad, osea, el viaje fue como una clase y mi deber era mantener un diario durante el viaje.  Por eso es que estas entradas van a ser en inglés.  Perdonen por la molestia, pero es que traducir todo me llevaría bastante tiempo!  Si tienen alguna pregunta ó quieren que clarifique algo díganme y con gusto les mando un email! :)

Don´t forget to Like my Facebook page to all of the pictures!

No se olviden de ir a mi página de Facebook, ahí están todas las fotos! 

https://www.facebook.com/magdafitipaldi