Thursday, September 20, 2007

H. I. What? V.

Late night text from Fiona: You must be a thief coz you have stolen my heart. You must be tired coz you’re running through my mind. And maybe I’m a bad shooter coz am missing you. Gdnyt!

Ha.

I don’t have school until 2pm so I sleep in and clean my room. Festus thanks me for keeping it so tidy.

I walk down the road towards Ntenjeru and some small boy in school uniform yells up the road, “Adam! Ori Otya!” I can’t make out who it is and I’m so surprised as I get closer to see that it is Alafua! For the first time I see him in clothes that don’t have holes and tears in them. “Were you at school?” He deliberately nods his head once and says, “yes!”

He is so young, maybe five, and he’s walking alone down this road that huge trucks speed down every five minutes. I ask if he’s going home and he says yes. He then grabs my hand and starts walking with me towards Ntenjeru. He is smiling so big and marching up a storm, so proud in his clothes.

I take the shortcut to the school and worry that maybe Alafua won’t be able to find his way back home one I get to school. I ask him, “Are you going home, or going back to school?”

“Yes.”

“Um.. OK you have to go home now. I need to teach school.”

“Yes. Tugede.” (which means let’s go.)

I try to un-hold his hand, but he squeezes even tighter. I take him to some woman who are washing outside their house and ask them to translate for me. (Kids in Uganda do not learn English until they are almost out of primary school.)

As the woman talk to him he holds my hand tighter and wipes the tears that are dropping from his straight face. I feel terrible. I get out my books and show him that I’m a teacher. I don’t think he understands. And who knows, maybe the women are telling him to leave the muzungo alone.

Finally he understands that he can’t walk with me anymore. He turns and starts walking up the path. I look back and see him reach into the back of his shorts and pull out a huge white handkerchief, that he uses to wipe his face. He looks back at me, kicks the dirt and walks on.

-

I meet a girl and her two brothers, one she is holding, on a path in the banana trees on the way to school. I wish I could stay longer to take pictures, but settle for the few I had time for.

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After class ask me to sing and dance or take their picture and say forget about it, because no one has done their homework. I think they will do it next week.

-

Josephine, the manager from Mukono, calls me and has me speak to her daughter who asks me when I’m coming back. I tell her I’m not sure, but that Joe and I plan on going maybe on Saturday.

I go to Ntenjeru and meet Erin and Kelley. They are doing a seminar on HIV at the trading center. I have three passion fruit juices. Places prepare this juice and pour them into sandwich sized plastic bags and tie them. They’re kept in a fridge and you drink them with a straw. They’re suppose to boil the water they use and I’m scared to ask if they do, because it is delicious.

We wait for a good while before people decide to sit down for our seminar. As it progresses more and more people show up until we have a good crowd. Kelley and Erin, with the help of Lydia – who translates into Luganda, ask the group what they know about HIV, how you can get HIV, how you can prevent HIV, why is HIV still a problem when we know how to prevent it, and open the discussion to their questions.

It was pretty good. There are some very smart people, and some stupid young men who have such misconceptions about how HIV is spread. They take too much risk in assuming that they might not get the virus.

I walk home with Kelley, who stops at this man, John’s house to drop off food. Jeff and Kellie have provided the man with surgery that he needed so badly. He is suppose to rest for a month, which he is having a hard time doing with the boredom, so they are helping his family with food.

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