Poor Old Sister

So Long, Farewell

2010-01-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

“Now it’s time to say goodbye to all our family -- M I C K E Y M O U S E …" Oops, a bit of nostalgia folks, thinking about the heyday of the 1950’s Mickey Mouse Club and its sign-off melody. For me it’s that time — I’ll be heading stateside early next month. Uganda was a once in a lifetime experience for me and, I am certainly a better person for it. Because Africa is made up of 53 countries, and because I’ve visited only 12, it should be obvious to all you readers that I’ll be heading back this way as soon as I can take care of my family affairs and replenish the old travel treasury. My mom turns 86 next month and my baby brother Khari is tying the knot with his lovely fiancée Rasha, so I have much to celebrate at home but, Africa is like a siren call….

My sentiments dispensed with; let’s talk about heading west. As you can see from the photos, saying goodbye required sharing large quantities of food with my Kampala friends. In the inset photos you see how cosmopolitan Kampala diners are. Among those sharing meals with me are Paruru and Alicia, from Papua New Guinea and Peru respectively. Ellen and Ellen from Norway. Diane and Margaret from Phoenix and the UK, Mark and Soo from Germany and Philly, and so on and so forth. Even my farewell cake is written in Lugandan (for those who are curious, it translates to Good Luck and Goodbye). As much as I’ve enjoyed the fine cuisine here, I can’t wait to taste a slice of Marie Callendar’s Rhubarb Pie or, Thai Phad See Ew noodles or, even a plate of salty fries from Murphy's Pub. Calories, calories, calories. Yes, I am coming home with a mind to diet but, as they say here in Africa, Poor Old Sista is meant to be a traditionally built woman. Many African women and their diasporan descendents are blessed with steatopygia, so if you don’t know the word, head for the dictionary and smile with me.

Lightheartedness ruled these last two months. Sure there was some volunteering as always, but there were a whole lot of scrabble games played, with me doing some whipping and me being whipped. It sure was fun. My NGOs (non-profits) could have seen more of me I’m afraid, but as I was cleaning out the house, all of them benefitted from my shopaholicism (isn’t that a cool word). What fun to donate personal and household items that gave me pleasure but will be recycled many times over when I’m gone. See inset photo of just one of the rooms of my give-aways.

How did I really spend my last days, well a few highlights:

(1) Celebrated Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas and New Year's in royal style - no need to elaborate since many of you helped me with this one. It doesn't bear mentioning but you know a lot of food and great comraderie was involved.

(2) I finally had time to read all the books people have given me or I’ve sent away for or bought. It’s amazing how quickly one can read when the weather’s warm and you know you’re closing in on your last free days. In 30 days, I read 30 books. Some were great and meaningful literature; others were either romance novels with heaving bosoms and girded loins or, sci-fi thrillers that had me sleeping with the lights on.

(3) I helped coordinate the International Women’s Tree of Lights Project with my gal pal Diane Louison and it was hard work. BUT, the money generated will be put to good use for IWO’s many women’s projects; my clothes and what’s left of the apartment however are still coated with glitter.

(4) I made a pinhole cardboard cut-out and saw the partial eclipse of the sun on January 15th. I can count on one hand the few times I’ve viewed an eclipse since both northern California and western Washington are so often shrouded in clouds or fog. It was pretty awesome for the old girl.

(5) I finished all my souvenir shopping so that everyone reading this will have a little surprise. All you have to do is take me to dinner when I get home …

Signing off with peace and love to you all.

Senior Moments Along South Africa’s Back Roads

2009-11-30T10:51:00.000-08:00

Wow! South Africa was a blast and exceeded every expectation I had. Because of its apartheid past, I had been reluctant to travel there for the past decade but since I was already in Africa, I thought oh what the heck, go for it. To say that I was pleasantly surprised by how far the country has come since the 1994 elections would be a gross understatement. During the month I spent there, I was bowled over by the friendliness of ALL South Africans. Not only is it a beautiful country, it is a fun experience. With so much to see and do, I thought why not embark on an adventure tour while I’m here, and in that way see all the sites up close and personal. So, for 18 long long days I jumped on the Drifter Wildlife Adventure truck shown in the side photo and made my way from Jo'burg to Cape Town across both the eastern and western Cape with 8 other great people, Marijke & Richard from Holland, Stine from Denmark, Susan from Canada, Jacqui & Mags from Ireland, Guenter & Wunni (nee. Thailand) from Germany and of course our incredible South African guide Wilma.

This adventure traveling business is some pretty serious stuff. On Day 7 on the Dolphin Coast, watching those cute little dolphins leaping up out of the Indian Ocean from my bedroom deck was spectacular. In fact, I began thinking, man this adventure trekking isn’t so bad, I could easily do this for another 10 days. Hah! By Day 9, I silently cursed myself for being overly optimistic because it was about then that I realized I might have bitten off more than I could chew.

The hike in the Drakensberg Mountains on Day 9 nearly killed the poor old sistah. Thank god the weather began clouding up forcing us to stop halfway. See me on top of that mountain to the right – I was huffing and puffing all the way (note the photo of the sign that I took on the way up that should have been my first clue!). It was a 90 degree walk up grade, then some serious boulder stretching before we reached the midway point. The panorama before us and the view of the vultures was fantastic but NEVER AGAIN. Some days later at our final destination of Cape Town there was one more opportunity to climb. It was the famous Table Mountain hike and everyone made the trek – well almost everyone. I just gazed over at my new adventure companions and gave what you old friends know as my most puzzling “I know you haven’t lost your mind” look. Dearest friends I do believe there are only two among you loyal readers that could have made this adventure with me and climbed the mountain and that would have been Morgan Ann of Seattle and Moriba of Menlo Park. Jean-knee of East Palo Alto, it goes without saying dear that they would have had to bury you on the mountain-top on this one; the trek down on my by-then-rubber-legs was merciless. I shall close this section here with the familiar admonition, “old age ain’t for sissies”!

Now before I mislead you all into thinking it was rough going all the way, it wasn’t. I had the best time – all you older folk out there know how much fun it is to hang with the young folk. However, that said, while we were exploring the desert-like Karoo backlands on Day 12, staying in some pretty nifty stone cottages by the way, our group was challenged by the Drifters staff to a soccer match. Stop chuckling. You’re probably saying, Loyci — Soccer, why the two words don’t even go together. And yes, you’re right for at no point had I drunk enough or lost my mind enough to get on the dusty soccer field with these kids and the two young soccer-playing border collies. However I was willing to be the official photographer of the event and to cheerlead. Alright, cut the laughter. I was a pom pom girl in high school but for the life of me, I couldn’t get those legs raised up for the high kicks – the kids just had to bear with my outlandish cheers and a couple of soul-train-style booty shakes in lieu of the leg kicks. yes indeedy, old age ain’t for sissies.

In conclusion, look at these photos and eat your heart out, including my Day 15 bungee jumping mates. I include the video of this event and a couple of the photos of what the bridge looked like. In any case NO I didn’t jump, I’m not that suicidal but, I did seriously consider it. Instead I finally opted to do the world’s highest harness swing crossing under the same bridge. I watched the kids around me dive head first over the railing on a bungee cord and I knew in my heart that Lloyd Stockey didn’t raise no fools. To be honest, the one drawback as I was walking the long green mile to take the jump was having to watch the path for snakes. This was a little dicey, for as in the words of Indiana Jones, "I hate snakes!" rings true for yours truly.

Putting those small details aside: Every one of you, even if you’re not an adventure traveler and have never even considered traveling to Africa, could easily enjoy the many splendors of South Africa with no sweat. In so many ways, it’s not dissimilar from being in the U.S. or Europe (well, except for when you head into the parks and see all the big game animals, or even when you’re driving down any of their superb highways and see springbok, baboons, ostriches, etc. grazing across the fenced roads). It’s all pretty doggone amazing!

By the way, so you don’t think I was overly adventurous, it should be noted that the restaurants and the shopping also got a great deal of my attention. Both pastimes are to die for all over S.A. Just bring those visa cards - EVERYBODY TAKES THEM - and go for it. Incidentally, the winery tours are also outstanding. Even confessing that I prefer California and Washington wines, I have to admit that the South African wine and beer is pretty darn tasty. It’s very reasonably priced and the wineries give good pours and throw in cheese, bread and olives, as an additional enticement. A mighty fine way to spend an afternoon, folks, a mighty fine way …

Until next time, Peace and Love

Loyci

Beijing Mama Tries Ugandan Safaris

2009-08-07T00:52:00.000-07:00

Francine made it all the way over from Beijing to see me, so following our Ethiopian escapades, we made a beeline for Uganda's west coast to do a little safariing (safariing is a word, isn't it?). Somewhat cash strapped after Ethiopia, and given our thrifty backgrounds, Frannie and I decided to alternate our safari accommodations with low-end, high-end lodges.

Heading northwest first, we joined a Big 5 tour organized by Red Chilli and drove to the magnificent Murchison Falls. This great national park had all the animals and it was a photographer's dream - lion, giraffe, elephant, buffalo, hippo and even a side trip to the nearby rhino sanctuary to glimpse the nearly extinct white rhino. For thrifty accommodations, Red Chilli’s Rest Camp bandas weren’t bad either, and meals offered were surprisingly tasty. However, it was a bit disconcerting every morning running into a wandering family of warthogs that had obviously adopted our same campgrounds (see inset photo). They were kind of cute, well in the only way that a pig with tusks and hairy hide can be …. besides, come on, who didn’t fall in love with Pumbaa & Timon singing Hakuna Matata in the Lion King?

Anyway, back to the safaris. After three days in Murchison, we circled back to Kampala for a day, grabbed some fresh clothes, hired a wonderful driver through Amazing Safari Company named Robert and hit the road again. First stop, Fort Portal, a place I consider the most beautiful city in Uganda. Two days at the Rwenzori Guest House proved a splendid choice as our rooms were lovely and our meals delicious. Many of our fellow guests would be seen again and again as we all seemed to have selected the same hotels and parks over the next 10 days. It was a hoot running into one another repeatedly.

Next stop, chimp trekking in Kibale National Park. A briefing first by the forest rangers, then our trek. Not nearly as exciting as my last chimp trek to Kyambura Gorge but this time we did spot the chimps at least. Lots of monkeys in this forest too, especially the black and white Colobus which is my favorite - think markings of a skunk but splashed on monkey fur. Colobus really are handsome but shy little devils. Ended the day in the best way: driving through the spectacular crater lake area and stopping for cocktails at the mountaintop at the upscale Mdali Lodge.

Leaving the craters we struck out for our next eponymous lodging, Chimps Nest, which was quite some distance. Understatement, it was really a long long way away and when we finally arrived, to our dismay, our digs were the furthest from reception. Personally I thought it was really cool cause it was the real deal - a bamboo and wood hut that was fashioned in complete alignment with the surroundings, giant ants, bats and all. Nevermind that it was an uphill hike to the dining tables and bar, that it was surrounded by Queen Elizabeth National Park (QENP) with many of the forest animals tramping by at night and that hot water and power was nearly nonexistent. I mean after all, we did come to see the animals, didn't we! So OK, the room was a little small and it was a titch muddy around our hut, and OK maybe the steps up to our place weren't really steps but 2X4 boards; nonetheless it had its own picturesque charm. Old Grumpy, that would be Francine, hated it and fortunately we were only there for one night. Robert said too that the drivers quarters where he was assigned was cell-like and he was an unhappy camper also. Hey what could I do, the luck of the draw said at least one of the places wouldn't be up to everyone's standards. Still I thought it was kind of nifty (see adorable hut photo). I might add that the owner did offer to "upgrade" us to their tree house room for a little more money but wisely, choosing to avoid Francine's glance, I declined.

All aboard, QENP coming up. Beautiful drive through park country, including a stop at Ishasha and a riverboat cruise along the Kazinga Channel made for a wonderful adventure. Crocs, hippos, elephants, exotic birds, you name it. It was great and with the warm weather after chilly Ethiopia was perfect. For those of you who have traveled to the Channel, you know the hilltop hotel above it, Mweya Safari Lodge, is a great place to hang out. It's where the queen stays when she's in the Park (really!!!) so we ate and swam and supped with the guests (and except for the snake incident) had a wonderful time before heading to our own place, Kingfisher Lodge. It was far more that we expected - a beautifully furnished two-story banda with a magnificent view, a private lanai, and the best darn showers in all of Africa I swear. Regrettably, the meals served left much to be desired but you can't have it all when you're lap-dogging now can you ...

Bwindi Impenetrable Forest and the gorillas coming up. Spent the day driving south to the forest and, after arriving, checked into the Buhoma Community Rest Camp. Definitely not a top of the line place but after Kingfisher we didn't cared. Wrong, the place escalated in our minds to a 5-star resort 30 min. after arriving. Sitting out gazing from our front porch, I see leaves shaking about 25 feet away. I psssst'ed Francine to get outside quick cause I think the shaking means the gorillas are paying us a visit. Sure enough, a family troop of 8 was in our neighborhood for dinner. We couldn't believe it. I hadn't bought a permit for this trip, so I'd just planned to read while Francine went on the morning trek . A one day permits cost $500 and I just couldn't justify buying one again. Well lo and behold if these magnificent primates didn't just drop by to say hello. Shut my mouth. It was so cool, guys we could barely stand ourselves and it was all for free.

Frannie did go on her trek the next morning, but as she'd strained a ligament in her foot and was hobbling around like a gimp, we knew the trek, even with a porter, was going to be difficult. Ha! Haha. Our driver told the morning guides of her condition so they sent her off with the old peoples group and they ran into the gorillas 5 minutes after starting up the trail. WE KNOW it had to be the same gorilla family that had been lounging in our "backyard." Talk about luck!

Day 9, we’re heading into our last major site, Lake Mburo National Park with a stay at the fabulously anticipated Mhingo Lodge. We were not disappointed! The park was under drought conditions but we went out on game drives anyway. Fewer animals than last time and the drought was apparent everywhere we looked. We hoped like the animals and fauna for rain and, soon. Mahingo Lodge has an incredible chef and the meals were beyond sumptuous - I kid you not, I think Frannie and I put on 3 pounds while we were there - they made us have breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea and cake, AND dinner. Folks it was rough, but we handled our business and would have made you proud. The highlight each day was watching the energetic Vervet monkeys from our deck (males have the striking blue genitalia) and, at night watching the adorable and bashful Bushbabies.

Day 10, homeward bound. A stop at the Equator Marker Post, the purchase of a few souvenirs along the highway and then a scenic ride back to home-sweet-home.

Peace and love all.

Ethiopia We Love You!

2009-08-06T23:24:00.000-07:00

Where to begin. Well let’s start with the fact that Ethiopia and its people are incredibly beautiful and gracious, and the food, let me tell you – O U T S T A N D I N G ! It was my great fortune that Francine had some international school colleagues living and teaching in Addis, and although they were away in Canada, they graciously offered their house, cook and driver to us. YES!!! Now, lest you think this was a cushy vacation, read on! Ethiopia is off the beaten tourist track, way off. It’ll be a few more years before it can claim to offer all the amenities, but it’s making headway and, except for airfare, it’s pretty cheap to visit. The capital Addis Ababa looks much like any other modern African city, but in the mountains and hinterlands, one steps back in time. Donkeys are the main mode for transporting goods in the agricultural highlands, and we were very surprised by the greenness of much of the hilly landscape.

Few trees seem to exist in the mountainous northern region and. like most of Africa, people walk everywhere. Not to be outdone, we walked right with them. Please note in all photos how many layers of clothes we are wearing (more about the chilliness in the later paragraphs); the purse sacs slung on our arms held more of our "warm-ups". Coupled with that, everywhere we looked we saw these white shawls, called gabis, worn by locals as both a cultural fashion statement and to keep warm. This white handmade cloth worn by many Eritreans and Ethiopians is worn over the shoulders and upper body. It serves as a blanket, a coat, a pillow, a scarf, a hat and almost any other kind of dressing you can think of. We thought hey, when in Rome do like the Romans, so all our long mufflers became kind of makeshift versions of a gabi.

Love and light evaded us sometimes. Obstacles were encountered. Let’s begin with Ethiopia’s national airline. This was only an 8 day adventure so Francine and I had planned to pack in every site we could. Oops, Ethiopian Airlines had a different take. We wasted all of Day 4 sitting in the Lalibela Airport because of “weather” and all of Day 6 cooling our heels in the Gondar Airport because of “mechanical” problems. Savvy travelers that Frannie and I are, we realized that there weren’t enough travelers to make the flights worthwhile, so passengers got the standard excuses above, but we knew better. Oh well as I said, there are some negative aspects when straying from the usual tourist track. One other major shortcoming for us was the daily power outages. Frannie and I became the headlamp queens – normal conversation between us was “girl, you got any extra lithium AAA batteries. I’ll trade you for …” At night when every drop of light had faded, we’d strap on our Cyclops lights, have a few sips of the home-brewed Ethiopian honey wine and read until we fell asleep. In the morning, I sometimes needed a couple of excedrin though.

Taking it all in stride, we had a wonderful time. August in Ethiopia would be equivalent to winter in the U.S., and honey let me tell you, it was cold! By paying attention to what the guidebooks said, we brought layers of clothes; however, at night even after burrowing down under the thick wool blankets, we’d still freeze our patooties off! Our second night in Ethiopia was spent at a much laid back hotel in Lalibela. Lalibela is an ancient city where Ethiopia’s famous rock churches are found. Alex, the hotel owner/manager, gave us the best room at his Turkal Village Hotel and after seeing some of the other guest houses, we knew we had the best place around. We later learned that 3 months before, Bill Clinton himself had been given our same room on his trip to the region (see inset photo of Frannie posing in our room). That discovery made our day!

Castles, ancient churches, and museums aside, seeing Lucy’s bones (you know 3.6 million year old Lucy, our oldest known and best preserved human ancestor) was pretty cool, as was viewing the earliest photos and likenesses of Ethiopian dreads. May I say in closing that for those of you out there that like to shop, Ethiopia is what’s happening. Great pieces of silver jewelry and art works highlighting the very distinctive Ethiopian painting style (see inset photo) were very reasonably priced.

Peace and love.

Thriving & Surviving in Africa

2009-06-19T05:09:00.000-07:00

Nice title, isn't it! Well as my newest photos will attest, as did my previous blog, “summertime and the living is easy, fish are jumping, and the cott (oops, too much lyric there)” aren’t derelict descriptions for Uganda.

There’s a plethora (nodding at you, Jerry) of folk coming through this time of year and we stock the house accordingly. Soo’s dear friend, Sri visited us for two weeks, traveling across the Atlantic from Rhode Island and, just last week we had a chance to take Little Maggie out for dinner at one of our favorite Indian restaurants; Maggie, who is a cousin a few times removed on the LaRue side, flew over from D.C. and made a stopover in Kampala after completing work assignments in Kenya and the Sudan. You’re looking at all four of us chowing down in the inset photo, and again at the neighborhood pub, Bubbles O’Leary’s.

What with hanging with so many young people, I am forced to energize myself by staying in shape, but the old adage just keeps nodding at me: Old Age Ain’t for Sissies, Loyci. To stay reasonably fit, I work out of course but, I also take essential vitamins which have been very effective. My weekly malaria pill regime (methloquine) is never forgotten, but I also pop ginger caps to avoid nausea from the many potholed and dilapidated roads I travel (East Palo Alto made me strong in that area!), acidophilus and grapefruit seed extract to keep the tummy settled, vitamin E and fish oil to keep my heart, eye, bone and hair follicles healthy, multivitamins of course, cal-mag-zinc to keep those yoga bones in tiptop shape; and, last but not least, double doses of phosphatidylserine (neuro PS for the memory) so that I don’t forget who I am, what I may have done with the house keys, and even more importantly that I remember to update this blog periodically.

I’m still working on next month’s Ethiopia activities while nailing down the final details for the Ugandan west coast safaris Francine and I will be on in July and August. Safaris tend to be very expensive affairs – very very expensive affairs! A gorilla permit alone is $500 and having it does not insure that you’ll locate the incredible silverbacks on your trek. Ah, but pssshaw, any trekker worth his or her salt will find those babies if they walk long enough . . .

In addition to taking extra vitamins and thinking over the money considerations in crossing the atlantic, many friends have admitted some trepidation over two other African travel concerns: The first is their dismay over all the inoculations required to travel to this part of the world. I’ll admit, shots might be a tiny downside. Let’s see, for the Peace Corps shots and boosters were required for Yellow Fever, Polio, Typhoid, Hep A&B Series, TB, Meningitis, Rabies 1,2&3, and Tetanus. However, there’s only a bit of a sting and I think each of you has it in you to not let that be a deterrent from seeing at least one or two African countries in your lifetime … Anyhow, the #2 query I get is: What is there to eat? I’m a vegetarian, or I’m not a vegetarian, or is there a McDonald’s, or funniest of all, is there any kind of food like back home? I believe the items taken from my kitchen pantry in the last photo above say it all.

Time to get back to my day job now, but oh a little side note first: I went with my friend Wedge to three movies at the cinema complex this week: (his wife, my buddy Diane shown with Wedge in the photo above, flew home to Arizona this week and as Wedge does not like to eat popcorn alone at the movies – I, good buddy that I am, volunteered to sub) Here's how I graded what we saw: Night at the Museum, Battle for the Smithsonian (C); Terminator Salvation (C+}; Star Trek (B+). I am always amazed that the new movies come out at the same time here as they do back home. Of course the brothers on the street are selling the pirated versions 24 hours later. I know it’s wrong but at $2.00 a flick, sometimes I feel obligated to help the brothers out. Many of the popular TV Series, latest season of course, sell at $2.50 for each 10 episodes. I’m going to repeat once more for any governmental pirating police who might monitor this blog that, IT IS WRONG TO PURCHASE THESE PIRATED DVD’S but I have so much fun negotiating a price, that I can’t help myself. These young men are trying to survive in a very poor economy so poor old sistah must do what she can. The funny thing is that most Ugandans do not have electricity or a DVD player, so I’ve never been able to figure out how they watch the DVD’s themselves. When I figure it out, I’ll get back to you on that one.

Peace and Love.

Summertime & the Living is Easy ....

2009-06-07T04:00:00.000-07:00

OK maybe the fish aren't jumping, but it's a mighty fine time to be here in Uganda. As my dear friend Jerry would say, there are always a plethora of things to do. Let’s see, when last we shared I was lending my talents to the International Women’s Organization (IWO). Our Annual Fundraiser, aptly called Small World, was held two weeks ago. The event was a rousing success and, short of visiting the United Nations, I’ve never seen so many nationalities in one place. It was fantastic - lots of work but an awfully good cause and an awfully good time, as the photos indicate. However, no great feat goes off without some kind of hitch. My hitch was in the kitchen and so I share my baking tale of woe.

Everyone needed to cook for the event. Since the Norte Americanos volunteered to bake the desserts, up went my hand. I’ll make two lemon jello cakes, say I. Well, little did I know that the kitchen god was about to test my hand. Cake #1 is in the oven the day before the event and I’m dancing around the kitchen (yes, I still dance like nobody’s watching when I’m cooking, and the music’s blaring when I realize there’s no cake smell wafting from the oven.) I check my cooker’s knobs, put my head in the oven and realize that our giant gas cylinder has run out of gas, right in the middle of my cake baking. Yikes, what do I do now – this isn’t like home where I can run out and borrow a friend’s oven. Long story short, one of my gal pals Diane from IWO sends over her driver in my hour of need. So off the driver Imam and I go and through sheer determination, locate a Shell station with full canisters, taking their last one. The gods were smiling; after figuring out how to reconnect the gas to the line, I think, phhhew, I dodged a bullet on that one. Anyway 30 minutes past, I remove the cake and, lo and behold it looks perfect. Wrong. After icing it, I turn it over onto the cake plate and all I have is cake mush with a frosted top. Do you how horrible cake mush looks when you’re expecting one of your perfect specialty cakes to be sitting before you? As there are 500 people attending the gala, I know I cannot throw out the cake because we need it and also because the bloody ingredients cost a small fortune.

During times of stress I always repeat my personal mantra, “Never stop – never give up,” and this day was definitely turning stressie. I took a deep breath, washed out my cake pan, poured that runny mass back into it and, stuck it back in the oven. 30 minutes later I re-iced it, plopped it onto my cake dish again and, except for one kind of lumpy depression, it looked pretty good. Sweet junkie that I am, I thought it best to cut out the lumpy part because it might look a little unappetizing, and so I ate the lump and it was mighty mighty tasty. Triumphant once again, I baked cake #2, which of course was absolutely perfect. As somebody famous once aptly put: When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

IWO really is a great organization. One of the 52 projects it sponsored this last year was the African Hospitality Institute (AHI); basically a vocational school and guesthouse, upcountry in Makasongola. As a bus field trip last week, we visited their site and were treated to a killer luncheon. About 70 miles north of Kampala, ASI was created by a lovely woman, Maggie Josiah from Kirkland, Washington (incredibly this is the city adjacent to my abode in Bellevue) to provide vocational training to the chronically poor and vulnerable youth from that district. The one year training program prepares them for employment in the growing tourism and hospitality industries currently flourishing in East Africa. Graduates of a cordon bleu school could not have prepared a more scrumptious meal for us. I so wish them great success with this endeavor. If you have a moment, go to their website: http://www.ahi-ug.org/ and learn more about this worthwhile project. In the photo above, we presented them with four new bicycles (and a commercial oven not shown). They were as overjoyed as we were.

Safari Planning has consumed much of my spare time the past month. My dear friend Francine, from Beijing, is coming out for a month and we’re hitting the road. Over the years we’ve traveled all the continents together except Africa. Next month we’ll be journeying into Ethiopia, a land dear to my heart and a place I have always wanted to see. Being a tourist in Ethiopia won’t be easy. Their infrastructure after so much war, famine and hardship is only just now gearing up but Frannie and I are tackling it anyway. One of the photos above reflects our partial itinerary. From Ethiopia, it’s back to Uganda for us and, yet another safari, this time covering much of the country I haven’t yet seen. I tell you guys, after this trek, I may be burnt out for awhile – there is no cheap safari; to say so would be an oxymoron. In fact, I don’t mean to be jaded but, one can only gaze at so many giraffes, elephants, lions, crocodiles, gorillas, chimpanzees, oh you get the idea ….

I could go on awhile about all the other inspiring activities one can do here, but instead I’ll mention just one last one. Yesterday I attended a performance by the Uganda National Contemporary Ballet Company. Outstanding. These folks are working with almost no budget, and yet they put on a wonderful performance with essentially no props or real costumes. Like my cake tale above, you deal with what you’ve got in Uganda and somehow you make it work. One of the photos above is of the 10 dancers who make up this wonderful dance troupe.

Anyway these are the tales I’m sharing with you this month. As it is summer, the visitors are many. It’s wonderful having such great company. See inset photo of Soo and her visitor, Sri, who are in the kitchen right now making us pakoras and samosas. Got to go, the smells are wafting in ….

Peace and love.

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T13:31:00.001-07:00

It’s said, “old age ain’t for sissies,” and whoever said it was absolutely right. I’ve spent the past 3½ weeks back in the states at my Mom’s house. It was a memorable trip for me perhaps, but probably not for her. As most of you know, Irmie is suffering from progressive dementia so it’s difficult for all of us. When Mom called me home from Kampala in March, I told her unless she needed me to drop everything; I’d be there in April. She didn’t remember that call or for that matter, who my sister Darcel and I were sometimes, but she beamed when she saw us. Della's daughter Cheryl joined us and we were all able to make some collective decisions about the future.

Dementia’s progression is inexorable. Each day Mom seemed just a tiny bit worse. Forgetfulness is such a major part of the aging process that Darcel and I got use to waking each morning to help Mom search for her checkbook or, find her house keys or, the one thing that drove Darcel and I the nuttiest: “Mom, you forgot to put your teeth in again!”

For those of you have already had to care for aging parents, the easy part as you know is looking after their physical fragility, and the difficult part of course is listening to their fragmented memories of incidences that occurred 40 years before, even as you’re looking over their shoulder because you hear gas hissing from a forgotten burner or you can see they’re only a half beat from falling: Floor mats, pets but, sometimes their own feet trip them up, so the chance of a mishap is ever present. In the end, Darcel, Della and I located an excellent companion service to come in 5 mornings a week, and found as well a nearby assisted-living facility for Mom, if and when it’s needed.

Now, I know you bloggies out there have come to expect photographs so I shall not totally disappoint. Fortunately for me, there are always home projects that can’t wait for my arrival. This time, among other things, it was planting a flower box with Irmie in the front yard and helping Della dig up a garden patch on the side yard. A victory garden is what she calls it. Michelle Obama’s planting at the White House must have struck a chord heard ‘round the world. Not just in Nevada obviously, but village ladies throughout Uganda are planting what they call victory gardens for their sister Michelle. I tell you guys, we really do live in one big global village.

I’ll conclude this month’s off-the-beaten-path blog by wishing everyone out there a Happy Mother’s Day. On this special day, I am just grateful that Mom is still here for me to say Happy Mother’s Day to, and that goes out of course to all you mothers out there, the good ones and the bad ones. Yes, yes, we mothers have our good days and bad days too; one might even use phrases like crotchety, snappish or my personal favorite – evil - to describe us on those days when we wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Well, to that I can only esoterically add, what good is salt without sugar, so hug your mom, sister, auntie, partner or whoever fits, for me and …..

Peace out.

Smile Africa!

2009-04-11T04:52:00.000-07:00

Alrighty then, time for our next installment! Let's see when I left off last we "silverbacks" were ending our vacation adventure. This month's blog will share my latest solo adventure in Uganda.

Shortly after making the decision to resign from the Peace Corps, I mulled over the idea of remaining in Uganda to work with local NGO's (similar to our U.S. non-profits) by grant writing. Regrettably, it was my misfortune that my timing coincided with the economic downturn which would severely pinch the budgets of nearly every international charity; to say that grant writing has become difficult would be a grave understatement - unless you know someone personally in the foundation world, chances of obtaining new funding is virtually nil, and the completion process itself now stretches out to about a year and a half. That aside, I still persist, ever hopeful that there is still a wee bit of money available to help the Ugandan NGO projects. In March, an NGO I promised to help some months ago, moved to the top of my list. The Smile Africa Ministries, a wonderful project based in Tororo, a mid-size town about 120 miles east of Kampala, needed(s) gifts of furniture and medical supplies for a small health clinic they’re opening (the photo of the barren room is how all the clinic rooms look currently). Through the intercession of the program's director, Pastor Ruth Kahawa (shown in photo with two of her board members), exceptional outreach has been made at every level to care for the street children, widows, orphans and the elderly so pervasive in this district, and I thought them the perfect project to grant write for this Spring.

Before starting any project, I like where possible to see the operation’s physical layout. Seems simple enough to me, so I say to myself, Self, why don't we get a bus schedule and ride with the local people on what should be a 2-3 hr. bus ride to Tororo. WRONG! For one thing, because there is so little passenger traffic, none of the commercial buses travel directly to Tororo these days. However, I did hear of one line, Elgon Flyer that was going my way. So off I set early Monday morning to catch it. Problem 1, no one seemed to know where this particular bus line parked. 30 minutes later my cabbie and I found it, way in the back of a rutted and muddy bus yard. Intrepid soul that I am, I said “hah,” a little mud never hurt anybody and aboard I hopped.

Many many hours later I arrived. Suffice it to say I will not be traveling on Elgon Flyer anytime soon, but what are a few hours in a poor old sister’s schedule anyway. Thanks to Cousin Rachel (Maggie & Morgan Ann’s cousin), I stayed at the best hotel in Torero, The Classic Rock Hotel. While not the Hyatt Regency, it was still A.O.K. with me and the service was exceptional. I tell you, Ugandans are some of the most hospitable people on the face of the earth. You can also see by these photos I’ve posted what a remarkable job SmileAfrica and Hope4Kids are doing with the many orphans that find safe haven with them. In the villages, the amazing volunteers from Hope4Kids have helped build huts, drill boreholes, and launch animal husbandry & crafts cooperatives and, so much more; I can’t begin to list the ways in which they’ve assisted so many. The 9-5 concept doesn’t work much when you’re a volunteer in a place like this. I can only hope I can come up with some money for them.

Armed with photos and lots of good writing material, I decide it’s time to head back to Kampala. Should be a much easier return journey. Hah!!! wrong again. Since two of the volunteers who hailed from Arizona were returning to the airport as I was leaving, I caught a ride with them. They’d hired one of those now-famous matatus I may have mentioned a time or two in my other blogs; so I thought, what the heck. The morning started off easy enough, but about 30 minutes into the drive, we ran into a road closure. In this neck of the woods (so to speak) this can be very serious as there is generally only one paved road throughout the country. The detour, when we could finally locate it, took us up and down some roads that made the sister want to holler and shout. Swear to goodness, I was biting my knuckles but, all’s well that ends well I say. Oh shut-up Loyci, and continue with the story already.

Just after we gained paved road once again (some 40 minutes later I might add), we happened upon a terrific auto accident. A matatu on the long road in front of us, cut in front of a truck and a second matatu followed him. The truck inexplicably swerved and the first matatu passing got rammed by the second matatu and rolled several times. We stopped to see if we could help and a policeman who arrived at the scene instructed us to carry some of the injured to the hospital. What hospital? We’re just tourist tootling along the highway, officer, we don’t know ‘nothin about local hospitals. Yeah, well so much for that line. The next big city, Jinja, fortunately had a hospital and we actually managed to find it. Meanwhile the victims are groaning and bleeding all over the back seats of the van and all we inept tourist-volunteers could even think of doing was offering them our water bottles. I sincerely wished right then that I’d paid more attention in my high school First Aid class, but I didn’t so, all I could do really was smile and offer them water.

In any case, we arrive at the hospital after only a few missed turns, and literally the guys lift and carry the injured men into the emergency room, including one man with a bone protruding. Now all of us Mzungus starts thinking about the blood in the car, so I’m trying to wipe it away with towels and my handkerchief without touching it, as are my new travel buddies, Jonathan and Douglas. Hey guys, it is Africa and contracting AIDS via blood contact is a legitimate concern. In retrospect, I can only say we did the best we could under the circumstances.

After leaving the hospital, we headed over to a nearby adoption orphanage (which was way cool), then to the source of the Nile River (remember Stanley & Livingston) for a photo shoot, and finally, home. I would like to say more but the hour is late and I don’t want you to fall asleep on me …

Peace out.

DAY 2: More Safari Excitement

2009-03-08T08:29:00.001-07:00

Let's see, when we last left off, we had ended our week of safari. So, of course we came home to rest before shoving off for a side trip to Jinja to see the Bijagali Falls and the infamously lush Source of the Nile area. After arriving at these locales there was a lot of picture snapping - certainly no one was intrepid enough in our posse to brave the falls in a canoe or, try out the popular bungee jumping sport of Jinja. I can only be thankful that on the road someone had the sense to name our group "the silverbacks." We're no dummies about trying sports that belong, as they rightly should, to the young bloods (ooh, I might have just dated myself - young bloods was a term we old folk used back in the 60's to identify the hip black crowd). In any case all I can say is no canoe-rafting and no bungee jumping took place on my watch!

We move now to our visitors in week 3. Morgan Ann and Janet flew out Friday, the 27th but Darcel and Jerry stayed on and continued the adventure until Fri., the 6th March. Lucky ducks. We planned a number of things for our smaller group to do but, our good luck finally ran out, and Murphy and his law stepped in. The three of us unanimously agreed we couldn't afford a side trip to Kigali, Rwanda after all, so we settled instead for a side-trip to Uganda's Ssese Islands. Having seen most of Southwest Uganda we thought more time in the central southern region would be a good change. Unfortunately, the new travel agent flubbed on this one and the driver picked us up too late to make the Ssese Island ferry. Sad. We'd packed all our gear again and were waiting around like little kids in front of a candy shop. Oh well, kids we're not. We drowned our sorrow at Bubbles and concocted an alternate plan. Hey, if one door closes, one has to just find another, doesn't one? Well. we sure did. Since the travel group was unable to refund all our money for their blunder, we elected to split up on two other adventures instead.

Darcel got a room comped at the fabulously elegant Kampala Serena Resort, where of course we joined her for swimming, dinner and drinks the next day. Needless to say the Serena had wonderful shopping and a great spa. Darcel is still smiling I think. Jerry and I, bold travelers that we are, chose to take the boat trip to the Ngamba Island Chimpanzee Sanctuary outside Entebbe. It is to my credit that I brought a sufficient supply of scopolamine patches to contend with my motion sickness. We think it was an oversight that the travel agent forgot to mention that the boat ride was in a very small boat and that visitors must always be told to bring a towel and a change of clothes as the voyage across the lake is a bit rough. A BIT ROUGH. That was an understatement if there ever was one. Jerry and I arrived looking like drowned rats but, the hardship was worth it and we dried off eventually. The sanctuary was incredibly well designed and the chimps were so much more awesome than we expected. I say awesome in the most liberal sense - neither of us had any idea chimpanzees were so large and well built. Yikes, I wouldn't want to run into one of those bad boys at night! They all kind of had what I called 'tude (you know attitude), and a lot of it. No siree, no nights out when the chimps might be wandering about!

Anyway, the remainder of Darcel and Jerry's time was spent going to the local craft markets, taking photographs, dining at some of my favorite restaurants, going to the movies and of course dropping in at Bubbles for a bit of cider and a few chips.

See the additional photos of our solo and group adventures.

Peace and love until my next installment.

GET UP: It's Safari Time, People!

2009-03-08T04:42:00.000-07:00

Where to begin. First off, this will be a two-part blogger as it is impossible to do a tell-all in one sitting. As you can see from the featured photos, this was a happy happy group. I met my sister Darcel and dear friends Jerry, Morgan Ann and Janet at the airport three weeks ago and the adventure commenced. Beginning the evening with a fine dinner at one of the local Turkish restaurants, then finishing off Day 1 at Kampala’s only live theater, La Bonita, was delightful.

The next two days were spent seeing the sights. Readers, you know how important it is to get the big places out of the way when you have houseguests, so that’s just what we did: the national museum, the tombs of the kings, the local markets, shopping centers, churches, favorite Loyci restaurants, and of course my local pub. Bubbles O’Leary is the name of that local watering hole and, as you can see in the photo of Jerry doing the splits with me on the dance floor, major fun and tomfoolery was exhibited there regularly by the intrepid travelers. The waiters are already asking what happened to my pals from America. Well, as I told them, they went home to earn more money so they could come back again (LOL).

I know you did not turn to this blog for a boring day by day account of our getting-to-know-Kampala activities so, let’s just get to the safari already! I’m going to offer one caveat before I begin: A safari is not for sissies!! The trekking, particularly for the chimpanzees and the gorillas was difficult BUT everybody made it in the end!!!!! As I have said before in this blog, life for the average Ugandan is difficult and poverty is rife. I do not make light of this in any way with these photos of our good times. As you can see juxtaposed to our "lounge lizards" snapshot is a mother and daughter gathering and carrying wood just outside our resort. It is hard to see one luxurious side of Uganda as we have, without comparing it to the daily grind of life for most Ugandans. We are so blessed to have been born in the U.S.

During our safari weeks we saw just about everything: lions, zebras, hippos, white rhinos, every imaginable bird, crocs, water buffalo, cobs, elephants, chimps, gorillas, monkeys etc. etc. The experience is indescribable and if you are ever given an opportunity to do so, DO IT. It saddens me immensely to say this, but given the encroachment on the land (remember they have recently discovered oil in one of Uganda's large lakes so all the big oil outfits are in town these days), coupled with the fiendish poachers and, the deleterious effects of global warming, I don't believe many of these dwindling animal populations can continue to survive. The gorilla trek in particular, while difficult to hike, was a once in a lifetime experience and beholding these magnificent silver-back apes up close (Morgan Ann got as close as 6 feet - she is one brave little photographer, I tell you!) defies my meager descriptions. I apologize that I cannot do greater justice to our experience.

Now, let me tell you about some of our other adventures. Did I mention, we had a small elephant charge our van? Didn't think I had. It was a little frightening - ok, forget that, it scared the you-know-what out of us. Earlier some of us had climbed up to the roof of the van and onto the luggage carriage for better views. SILLY WESTERNERS~!!! We accidentally startled a young bull in our eagerness to pop photos and he was not a happy camper. Fortunately he turned from his charge at the last minute and trotted on across the road (see inset photo) but, for the briefest of seconds, we were all petrified. A bathroom break shortly followed with a much needed round of drinks at the Queen Elizabeth National Park's elegant Mweya Lodge in Kasese ....

Speaking of that road trip, I think the photos speak for themselves. We stopped whenever we wanted and had the best guides in the world. Richard and Judith from Budget Safari in Kampala were stellar companions. They saw to our every need and are as fine a people as you'll find anywhere. In the remaining photos, you'll see many of the roadside sites we saw and or participated in, from buying brightly painted stools for sale, jumping out to inspect local side-of-the-road markets, hugging one another at one of the local tea plantations, or the stopover at "the official equator line". Uganda sits on the imaginary line and therefore has exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of night at all times. The gravitiy points are also different there so we were quite fortunate when an African Mr. Rogers came over and explained in detail what we were seeing. It was actually pretty cool. I'd be more specific about what we learned but science was never my best subject and what with leakage taking its toll and all, I may have forgotten some of the finer points. Oh well, like I said before, you just have to go and see for yourself.

Another of our stops was at a local village where the children just came out and started dancing for us. That was pretty doggone exciting; in fact, Janet jumped away from us and to the delight of the villagers started dancing with them. Hey, any safari is only what you make it we so we all tried making it the best ever. Having traveled the globe for many years, I've been on a safari or two in my time but, without a doubt, this has to have been my very favorite!

Part II follows tomorrow. Peace and love.

Busy Little Beaver

2009-02-08T08:34:00.000-08:00

Once again, it's been awhile since we've chatted. Always a lot going on over here and what with the imminent arrival of family and friends next week, I'm behind in my writing. It’s a bit trite now but, we did some serious celebrating here in Uganda on inauguration day. The gorgeous photos of Mr. O are courtesy of my friend Jeannine from San Diego since all the fuzzy photos I took were of an embarrassingly poor quality. Hey folks what can I say, I was crying too much to steady the camera and taking a photo of someone on a TV screen is tricky at best. There's also a shot inset of us gathered in front of the TV set; as a poor old sistah myself, I have no television set at my house so must rely on friends to share theirs.

Even now, the “O” fever has not left. I was returning from a meeting this week and looked up to see a nightclub sporting new signage; can’t remember the old name but it’s called “The Obama Club” now! As you can see by the lack of photographic evidence, I forgot to bring my camera. No matter, when folks on the street stop me to ask where I’m from, I just say Obamaland so that we can smile together. President Obama is pictured here DAILY on newspaper and magazine covers, and what his victory has meant is incalculable. It is just amazing to be a witness.

Quick Fundraising Update: It’s tough these days. There is no money for any of the projects I’ve been asked to help with. Foundations have pulled back, the churches have pulled back and asking for large chunks of money just isn’t flying the way it use to. Oh well, I carry on …. however, I am open as always for ideas you may have on additional funding sources.

Have recently received word that two of the owners in my Bellevue complex are going into default. I can hardly believe it, even though many of you have written telling me of the dire economic situation, I have somehow felt that none of you would be too adversely effected. Boy, was I mistaken. I hope all of you reading this are keeping your heads above water and that we all get through this relatively unscathed. Poor Old Sistah does not want to UN-retire when she returns home!

I end this short entry by letting you know that Scrabble-Fever still has me in its clutches. Please pray for me. The addiction is so bad that one of the first things I do in the morning after working out is play a Scrabble game (or two) on my computer. I’ve taken to memorizing all the allowable two and three letter words. This morning we had a Scrabble brunch (see inset photo) and I lost both games (beaten in Game 2 by a 76 year old - I'm telling you, I’m in real trouble, guys). Wednesday I go to a Scrabble dinner and must defend myself more strenuously. Many of you have asked why I’m not blogging as much – I can’t, I’ve got to keep reading - I've got to keep studying the Scrabble dictionary. Don’t let me down, I may need a Scrabble prayer vigil very soon.

Next blog will be a report on the upcoming family visit. I've put together an itinerary for the intrepid travelers that will make them cry uncle by Day 2. Take a moment, focus real hard on me - see my smirk. Now that I think about it, pray for them too readers ....

Peace and love.

Bag Lady

2009-01-12T08:08:00.000-08:00

No, not that kind of bag lady! I'm talking about the kind like me always lugging around grocery bags. Please note my buff arms under the Tshirt - trudging up and down Kampalan hills with giant shopping bags is no easy task I assure you, and this month's blog is testimony to how close my kitchen and I have become. Before you are photos of favorites from my kitchen: cheesy spaghetti casserole; the ubiquitous mini-mangoes and passion fruits — in point of fact, I’ve developed a personal relationship with the passion fruit – never go a day without one. If you google them, you'll learn they are good for just about everything from aiding digestion, acting as an aphrodisiac and, believe it or not, as a sleeping tranquilizer. As a certified sweet junkie, you will also see pictured a lemon jello cake, of course half eaten, and the last bits and pieces of chocolate chip cookies baked by roomie Anneeth.

Cooking is often difficult because key ingredients can’t be found. Try making banana nut bread with peanuts (or as they’re called here, groundnuts) instead of walnuts. Then let's see, last week trying to make potato salad without pickle relish, celery or miracle whip or, even worse, without an egg slicer. But enough already about food, except to share this: It’s hard being the old lady of the house! Take my continual reference to, and puzzled expression received, about putting things away in the ice box. Is there no one out there who remembers the ice man and his tongs as he delivered those giant blocks of ice to family kitchens? And a couple of weeks ago I mentioned to the roomies (one of whom is tiny and petite, while the other is tall and statuesque) that they were like “Mutt and Jeff.” Who???? (heavy sigh here) I tried explaining, but so much is lost in translation… ‘Man oh man, old age is not for sissies.’

I’ve been into joining things lately so now I’m a card-carrying member of Nature Uganda (formerly the East Africa Natural History Society founded in 1909) and I’ll be enjoying their monthly nature walks and informative speakers here on out. Then I also joined the International Women’s Organization so I could have even more things to volunteer for. Somewhere among the photos shown is a group shot of those of us who recently joined. Anyway, as I was leaving this morning’s session, I stopped over at the shopping center next door and ran into a familiar face – one of my old RealNetworks colleagues, Mimi Asfaw, who worked in the Finance Department while we were at Real. Mimi, who is Ethiopian and living these days in Addis Ababa, is now the Deputy Country Director of WWO (Worldwide Orphans Foundation). As you can see from the final photo, we had each other grinning from ear to ear. Who really expects to run into someone from home in Kampala!

Peace and love to you in this new year of 2009.

RUN TURKEY RUN: 3-13-3

2008-12-14T01:23:00.001-08:00

A coded message in the title? No but, for the uninitiated, scrabble-mania has taken over our household. Soo-Ryun gave me a scrabble game for my birthday (we share the same b'day - how cool is that!) and we've been playing nonstop ever since. For the unenlightened, the letters in "run" are worth 3 points; the letters in "turkey" 13, and currently Soo-Ryun is the reigning champ BUT not by much! It's sad folks, we came in last night from another birthday dinner at midnight and went straight to the scrabble board. Bad, very very bad.

Finished the 10K (6¼ mi) portion of the Uganda MTN marathon in an hour and 12 minutes. OK, maybe not a great time, but still not bad for an old sistah walking/running up and down Kampala’s hilly terrain five days before Turkey Day. It was actually a lot of fun, and the post-race activities reminded me so much of San Francisco’s annual Bay to Breakers Race. Great entertainment, lots of food and information booths, folks sprawled out on the grass rubbing their feet …

On to the inset photo of the cooks making merry in our kitchen for Thanksgiving. Absolutely no turkeys to be found in the grocery stores, though there are plenty of live ones in Uganda so, we made do with a very plump chicken. You see Anneeth in the kitchen whipping up her fabulous mash potatoes and Soo-Ryun whipping up her incredible pumpkin pies. After I glazed up the chicken and added my giblet dressing and gravy, and a nice lemon cake, it was a fine fine affair with other friends joining us.

Today's blog is going to end with my impression of what it was like attending a Ugandan wedding. Ugandans first of all are known to be notoriously late for most everything. Wedding affairs would be no exception. The wedding of my dear friend Harriet and her new husband Johnstone was held out in Kapyanga with a reception in Kitende, some miles distant from Kampala. It was an elaborate affair and the bride and groom and their wedding party were beautifully attired.

As I elected to skip the actual wedding (I understood it would be quite a long church service) and attend only the reception (see inset photo above of mostly attentive guests), which the invitation listed at 4:00PM, I thought arriving at that hour would be appropriate. Wrong, so very wrong. What I didn't know was that while weddings start on time because they are in a church, receptions do not. In fact everyone (but obviously not me) knows that no decent reception starts before 6:00PM so you pretty much ignore what the invitation may state. Guests mingle and party most of the night with the bride and groom but not before congratulatory speeches by all the local Lugandan ministers and entertainment by several singers and dancers. Gift giving is also another part of the reception ceremony. After the speakers and entertainers are finished, a line forms so that each guest can personally hand the bride and groom their gift (I counted at least 200 attendees). This is followed by a dinner buffet and then a party. I wimped out after 3 hours. As Uganda is a very religious country, no booze is served either.

Lesson learned: Get “pleasant” before a wedding reception and always arrive late!

What's Going On

2008-11-21T07:31:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been awhile, hasn't it? Over here we're in the midst of the rain and muck season, and red mud and dust have settled on everything, but no matter, here's the latest.

Soo-Ryun and I were lucky enough to find our third and final flat mate, Anneeth, who hails from Chicago and is an anthropologist completing her Ph D. in part on the Ugandan Indian diaspora. Interesting stuff, I tell you. That’s her in the kitchen photo smiling back while kneading chapatis (flat bread) for dinner. Afterwards a little stimulating conversation in another photo with some of my new homeys (representing Uganda, Lebanon and the US); it goes without saying that Obama figured heavily in the conversation. You’ll see another photo somewhere above or on the right of one of the many election night celebrations at a local pub. Let me tell you, with Kampala being 11 hrs. ahead of the West Coast, it made for a very long night for the faithful. I’m still weeping with sheer joy. Thank you one and all for the many emails and transatlantic phone calls letting me celebrate Barack’s win with you. Now if only he or Michelle would personally call so I could die a happy poor old sistah.

I barely made it to the election night festivities as I have been down for the past 3 weeks with a very bad chest cold. Regrettably both my flat mates have been sick this week with similar symptoms, but I swear it wasn't me that shared jimmy-the-germ!

Sunday is the big Kampala Marathon race, which yours truly will walk 10K of. Wuss that I am, I can only hope the rain stays away long enough for me to finish. 10,000 have signed up and that’s a big number here so I’m really excited. And speaking of walking, something I do a great deal of as you know because it’s how I’ve always learned new cities and neighborhoods. Anyway while out on one of my jaunts to dinner I heard some jazz, of the ‘quiet storm’ variety playing. Of course I assumed immediately it was somebody’s car stereo but the further I walked, the louder the sound. Well lo and behold if I didn’t walk myself into what we Washingtonians would call a concert in the park. Naturally there were vendors, including one young artist whose work was truly outstanding. It was the first time he’d ever brought his work out in public and given his ridiculously inexpensive prices, I snapped one up immediately. See photo above of young Joseph Mawanda’s work. OK, maybe I bought more than one – you all know how I am about folk art!

Today I finally met Maggie and Morgan Ann’s cousin, Rachel, and her husband Robert. Rachel is the resident writer and director of women’s concerns for Hope4Kids International, and she and her hubby work with abandoned widows in Uganda. We traveled together to the New Hope Orphanage in Wakiso so that she and Robert could have a chance to see it before flying home tomorrow; they’ve been recent supporters of the orphanage but have never actually visited. Final photos are (1) Rachel and I meeting one another for the first time; and where else, but on the side of the road. See Robert, Rachel’s husband; Pastor Ruth of Smile Africa Ministries of Tororo where they'd been working; co-founder Agnes Lubega of New Hope Orphanage; and Rachel and yours truly smiling & hugging for the camera while traffic whizzed by; and (2) an audience of New Hope orphans watching a show put on for us this afternoon. On our arrival there, we were greeted by 900 children lining the road to the campus, shaking our hands and singing us a welcome song. No words, guys ….

So much more to tell you about, but downloading photos takes hours here and it is now Saturday and I have to get to bed for the race.

Peace out.

Hashing & The Puffaloola

2008-10-26T09:27:00.000-07:00

Hashing you say, what the heck is hashing! Well I’ll tell you what it’s not; it’s not a piece of cake. My roomie, Soo-Ryun, alias energizer bunny, introduced me yesterday to yet another new activity, hashing. Hashers are runners (and obviously walkers) who run through the streets of Kampala or nearby towns twice a week before stopping in at the local pub or restaurant hosting that day’s event. Yesterday it was Moonberg’s Brewery out in Kitetika. Runs are usually 10K or less with walkers trotting a slightly shorter distance; fortunately for me, yesterday was one of the considerably shorter walks. The puffaloola (that's a shout-out to Seattle) survived, but just barely. Jogging through the mean streets of Bellevue or East Palo Alto cannot compare with running the cratered roads of backside Kampala, dodging goats and cows, trailed by children shouting “Mzungu Mzungu”, while nimbly leaping over mud holes but avoiding speeding cars and bota botas.

Photos on the right depict us in our glory post-run stretching, sitting around chatting and even old Jimmy chug-a-lugging during our brewery tasting tour. The yellow t-shirted photo I hope is a preview of my next act of bravery - participating in the 10K portion of the MTN Kampala Marathon on the 23rd November. The puffaloola trots on ...

And, less you think it's all fun and games here, see my kitchen photo above of the founders and principal of the New Hope Orphanage and Primary School in Wakiso, Uganda that I am assisting with grant writing. As I mentioned in my last blog entry, I am trying very hard to locate new funding so that they can expand their campus next year and add a secondary school specializing in vocational training. If you have a moment, stop by their website: http://www.loveworksintl.org/index.htm and see what they're about, maybe even make a donation if you can. The site hasn't been updated recently but the number of students they're assisting has topped 900. With our economy shredding, their funding is drying up fast and I am still unable to find any foundation in either the U.S. or the UK funding vocational training. Once again I ask, if you have any funding source ideas, please email me at the peoplepc address.

Peace out.

What a Friend We Have in Food

2008-10-19T02:02:00.001-07:00

I once took an African dance class but, as it turned out, I inherited my mother’s lack of rhythm. Unlike my dad, who could always master the quick step, I could not for the life of me pick up what the teacher was demonstrating like everyone else. Not to say that this bothered me, because it didn’t. I am the perennial, “dance like nobody’s watching” girl. That said, I attended a barbeque (photo on right of Ugandan pit-style barbequeing) yesterday celebrating my NGO’s 1st place win at the Uganda National Music, Dance & Drama Festival in August, and one of the highlights was a performance by the talented winners. They had wonderful voices but their dancing had me tapping my toes and chair-rocking! Back in the 60’s (yes, yes I am that old), I went to see one of the first touring African dance troupes at the San Francisco Opera House, and maybe because I’d never seen anything like that on stage, I was absolutely awestruck. These kids yesterday were either their grandchildren or the same dancers reincarnated. You needed to be there, guys! The photos on the right just don’t do them justice. I’m telling you, I wanted to jump up and do the boogaloo, but I think I’d of scared the audience ... Try conjuring up the Elaine episode on Seinfeld.

In any case, the dancers were followed by the afternoon’s speakers. Can I say, given a platform, every Ugandan speaker knows how to warm to the task. Think, Baptist ministers on Easter morning lingering over a sermon but two times longer. It would not be a serious understatement to say that Africans in general are lengthy orators, and I understand more and more why our griots have always been so revered.

Now on Friday we had ladies night at Marina’s house. She’s one of those woman (god bless them one and all) who loves to cook. In her tiny little kitchen she whipped up some fabulous Middle Eastern dishes, and old sistah was mighty impressed with their tastiness. Another of the attendees, my new friend Paulina, is a writer and I’ve just finished her novel, The Year of Numbers, and it was a real page turner. I loved it, and I recommend it highly; fyi, Amazon carries it.

Soo and I are already planning our first dinner party (dinner parties, or social events focused around food, are big here) but we haven’t been able to come up with a theme. Can any readers provide me with some suggestions? Meanwhile, “we” finished sewing our living room curtains (see photo of Soo needling) and of course the final shot is of our new stove (or cooker as they are known in Uganda). No pun intended, but is this little baby hot or what! I’ll close now as I need to chop the onions for my spaghetti casserole …

To Write or To Furnish, That Is the Question

2008-10-10T05:26:00.000-07:00

A Woman's Home is her Castle: Well as usual I have a batch of photos to explain. To begin with, I decided it was best to finish furnishing my flat before undertaking any serious proposal writing; after all, if a girl isn't comfortable in her castle, her writing inspiration suffers, doesn't it. That said, Soo and I journeyed out once more to the furniture road Thurs. to do some hard bargaining; however, knowing we were still mzungus, we decided to bring out the big gun, in this case our driver and a local Ugandan, to get the local prices. Wise decision. After some very serious negotiating (see middle photo of Soo & I surrounded by furniture carcasses) with several vendors, we purchased a great living room set (see first photo I think). For everything you see in our newly furnished living room, we paid a grand total of $180 U.S., or $90 each. Happy campers we were so off we went to celebrate; after a fine brunch and to be certain that the couch was as comfortable as it looked i laid down and promptly fell asleep (it passed the if-visitors-fall-out-they-have-a-place-to-sleep test with flying colors).

One more household addition. Not that Soo and I are messy in any way, but we were approached by our neighbor's maid to see if we'd be interested in having her help us out twice a week. She could use the extra money and we thought why not, neither of us likes washing, ironing and cleaning bathrooms, etc. anyway so why not be righteous sisters. Another one of our excellent decisions. Her name is Miriam and she is featured in the kitchen photo.

Working Girl: At last, why I'm here. Well to help wherever I can of course, and currently that is in assisting a fine local organization (NGO) called Love Works International. They own and run the New Hope Orphanage and Primary School in Wakiso, just outside Kampala. They have just under 1,000 students who are just the sweetest, cutest youngsters in the world. The photo here is of the little kid's choir (you should hear their sweet voices and they have the nerve to have a couple of drummers who accompany them while they're are singing and shaking their little booties to traditional songs). They won the last Ugandan National Festival of Music, Dance and Drama competition, the first time in history that a private school has done so (of course they are hoping to make it back to back wins when the competition takes place next month; I've got my fingers crossed for them). My friend Francince from Beijing, before I left, shared a film made about the orphans of Gulu who'd won that same competition a year or two before. It is a huge honor to win this thing and receive the Golden Shield.

All of the school and orphanage's funding has been coming from American donors, primarily faith-based groups, but given the economic straits that we're presently in, I fear for the orphanage's survival. Funds are drying up for them everywhere. I am going to do my best to ferret out any U.S. organizations or foundations that can assist and am also going to try and go after local Ugandan donors, a much harder group to tap. The final photo at the top is one of the dorms in which the children reside; this is one of the girl's dorms and I'd say it's about a 25x20 room that accommodates 75 girls. I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY BEDS & TRUNKS IN 1 ROOM. They are packed in, but grateful just to have a home. Readers, I may need help in finding the best foundations to approach. If you can make any suggestions, please send an email to lost55@peoplepc.com. My team of hard working fundraisers shown in my bedroom-office are Rachel, a wonderful volunteer out from California for two months on keyboard, and the Rev. Chris and wife Agnes (laying across bed) Lubega, who founded and run the school.

Peace and love to you all ...

In the 'hood

2008-10-04T12:48:00.000-07:00

At last I have a home. Found a wonderful flat with new roommate Soo (photo on right) in the very established Kololo area of Kampala. It's a great neighborhood and the place is absolutely perfect, well except for the minor detail of the flat being "unfurnished." In Kampala, this means no appliances, no rugs, no window coverings - in short having to buy absolutely everything unless you want to stand around in empty rooms. This turned into a very expensive undertaking since I'd grown accustomed to outfitting spare rooms using garage sales, thrift shops, friend's basements and want ads. Finding anything used in Uganda is next to impossible, but I persevere at shops all over the city inquiring, "Would you have any used versions of that"; "Do you have any ____ that are dented or scuffed"; or my favorite intro, "Can you help sistah out: I'm new to Kampala and haven't much money to spend on ____." Believe it or not, this tact is the most effective one. African vendors like to bargain here and we know I love bargaining so I have managed to acquire a few things (see photo inset of my bedroom) ...

I haven't the words to describe what it's like to have hot running water, flush toilets and a room to call my own. Soo is helping me make curtains for my window (she doesn't know yet that I can't sew to save my life). In fact Soo is going to be acknowledged by me as "Curtain Specialist of the Year," since every window in the flat needs curtains and believe me this flat has a lot of windows.

Buying bedroom furniture proved to be extremely challenging. Picture this: I know I’m moving into a new unfurnished flat and of course I have no furniture (see photo of our living room) so, the day of my move, I catch a ride over to the furniture road. This is the road one learns where inexpensive furniture can be found. It is African-made furniture cut and nailed on-site and displayed on both sides of the road for about a ½ mile. The hardwood furniture is basic, minimalist and sturdy (and no, I don’t know what kind of wood it actually is) and it's usually stained in a kind of dark cherry or light golden oak before varnishing. Prices are quite reasonable but, considering that I had whittled my monthly allowance down to the nubs, I had to summon up all my persuasive bargaining skills to get in the game. Finally, after making some good deals, I say to yourself, Self how the heck are you going to get all this stuff home. When one has no car and very little money, this becomes a very serious matter. It seemed simple enough when I arranged for a furniture delivery man to deliver my things, but it was not and, in the process, I gained a greater understanding of American time versus Ugandan time. The twain does not meet with these two cultures when it comes to time management. I waited 3½ hrs. in the sun for the delivery guys to arrive; they’d promised they’d pick me up in 45 min. And of course, by the time they arrived and carried in the furniture, it was too late to head downtown to buy a mattress.

I slept on a cold, hard marble floor that night but when daylight broke I hippity hoppetied to the bedding block, bought the cheapest foam mattress, pillow and mosquito net I could find and then set off down the street trying to balance all of the above in my arms until I could find a cab. Folks, early on I lost my “glow”; 5 minutes of lugging bedding in the Ugandan sun, and the sweat was running off me in rivulets. Do I need to say here that too much sun can cause strange thoughts? Distorted images crept into my psyche while I was huffing and puffing: If I pass out on the sidewalk, will anybody help me or, will passersby just step over me and drop coins around my head. Fortunately for poor old sistah, fate intervened and I chanced upon a cabbie. We bargained hard for the fare and voila, here is my new bedroom on the right.

Next blog, we'll talk about a proposal I'm writing for a school and orphanage in Wakiso ...

A Room With A View

2008-09-18T07:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, indeedy still here at the YWCA in Kampala central. Today is wash day. See photo on left. I would say it's one of my favorite pasttimes, but you know I'd be lying. Washing clothes by hand comes second only to mopping floors and doing windows. But, what's a girl to do.

Stepping out early as I am wont to do, I hear the usual morning street serenade: The tooting of bike bells and car horns, the swish-swish of the reed branches held by the lady sidewalk sweepers, the strident voices of the taxi bus barkers contrasted against the soft murmuring Lugandan voices of workers hurrying to their jobs but, above it all, I hear the bird notes. Uganda has some of the most striking birds I have ever seen or heard, from tuxedo crows who sit on my balcony to giant scavenger storks that are some scary mothers, and who roost in all the nearby treetops and roofs. The cacophonic sound of the bird choir is absolutely enchanting in the morning.

The rest of the days this week have been spent researching Kampala-based Aid groups, trying to open a banking account, trying to purchase medevac insurance, trying to change my cell phone service, trying to find an apartment, and trying to find decent restaurants. Trying is the operative word here since EVERYTHING takes 4 to 5 times longer than it would at home. This is not figuratively speaking either, every business transaction regardless of how menial, requires hours of one’s time to complete. It’s called the “Ugandan Way,” and it has caused me endless frustration but, when in Uganda do as a Ugandan. Guys, I’m still in learning mode so bear with me …

Evenings are the best. The weather is beautiful, right about 75-80 degrees fahrenheit each day, so nights when it cools down to 65-70 degrees and the sun is setting, I look out the balcony in front of my room (photo on right) and view this magnificent city tapestry of evening peddlers, strollers and tourists. In concert with this is the Muslim call to prayer from the old national mosque on the hill. As I don’t understand Arabic, I have no idea what they’re saying, but the rhythm and cadence of it is so compelling that I look forward to it each day.

The people that take up residence in this metropolis have migrated from all parts of the world. They come of course from near and distant parts of Uganda, but there is an extensive Indian population, and the number of Chinese restaurants continues to grow as does their population. Oil has been discovered in the west at Lake Albert and the Chinese have come to assist. Out on the streets with me I spy Koreans, Japanese, lots of Europeans, especially the British, Germans and Italians, and others from East, West and South Africa. Other than the various U.S. aid organizations, including the Peace Corps, one doesn’t run into many Americans. I’m sure we’re here but most likely away from the city and game watching, rafting or touring.

Clothing styles vary here but Uganda is a socially conservative country and throughout the city one sees people smartly dressed — clothes pressed, shoes shined, and women’s hems below the knee. Conversely, a significant number of Ugandans continue to wear traditional dress and seeing these beautiful African fabrics in the style of old on the men and women is something to behold. Note: We know I’m going to have to have an outfit or two made before I leave!

Ugandan Muslims on the other hand wear the traditional robes of their faith, though I confess to seeing very few Muslim women in Kampala wearing full burkas with the face veils; for the most part the women wear the long caftans and completely cover their heads. That said, this is Africa I’m talking about and bright colors are the norm not the exception, so it is so cool to frequently see this required headdress in bright red or purple. As an aside: There is a large Muslim population in Uganda, far larger than indicated in most of the guidebooks which generally say they compose about 11% of the country’s 27 million. I think, and this is strictly my conjecture, that because so many of the charitable aid groups here are faith-based (Christian), the accurate population numbers of Christians vs Muslims in Uganda is skewed. Even though there is currently a bustling economy, the vast majority of Ugandans are very poor and the aid and resources provided by these many aid groups is considerable.
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Finally, you may wonder why I’m describing rather than showing photos of the Ugandans I speak of. Well, I’d like to but this is a very touchy area so, I’m erring on the side of caution, and keeping my camera shuttered for the time being.

The Mzungu

2008-09-12T01:24:00.000-07:00

Well here I sit on Thursday, the 11th September preparing to blog but, what to blog? Today it’s a “day in the life”.

We'll begin with a photo of my room at the Y on the right. This is one of the lodging accommodations that Peace Corps sends its people to, hence my initial introduction to it. The YWCA is located in the mid-center of town; that is, from here I can walk just about anywhere, which of course I do. Today we’re off to the Mzungu shopping center (Mzungu is a Ugandan word for foreigner, and generally implies rich foreigners, which we know I’m not. It is pronounced Muh-Zoon-Gu and in the countryside especially, saying it to someone, is considered to be a compliment. The first time someone called me that, and in fact all three of us African-Americans in my Peace Corps group, we took umbrage, and in my case I pointed to my skin color and launched into a Loyci explanation of why I could not be an Mzungu. WRONG. Everybody foreign is a Mzungu, so now when I hear myself called that, I just accept it, smile and say hello, how are you.

Still house hunting but it’s taking a bit longer than I expected. Who knew decent housing here would cost the same as it would in Seattle. Yikes, my Mzungu pocketbook has been crying ever since I got here. Taxi-cars can be very expensive here as well, and thus is one of the reasons I walk so much or take the more economical taxi-bus. This form of transport is cheap, always crowded and generally will get you near where you want to go, but if there aren’t enough passengers inside, you wait at one of the major stops and the “conductor” hawks seats for the final destination until we fill up. This can often take quite a while and it is generally during the heat of the day. There is one other form of transportation, the bota bota, but with it you put your life in your hands. Bota botas are motorcycles, but not the kind I’m used to. Ugandans drive like bats out of hell, day and night. People die or are injured on bota-botas daily. However, I have to add that everybody rides the doggone things because they’re plentiful and cheap but, the Peace Corps put the fear of god in me about riding them so I’ve taken their guidance to heart and won’t go near one. See photo on left of botas & taxi-buses waiting at the local supermarket today for fares. Really no matter what transportation vehicle you use, your heart is in your mouth. Crossing a street is another near-death experience. Cars never yield and you have to run across the streets at your own peril. Ah Uganda! I can’t wait to see those brave enough to come visit me – I’m going to show you the real Uganda.

Anyway I’m off to register at the US Embassy now, and to meet a German lady who is here to volunteer as well and since we’re both looking for housing, thought we might lunch together and decide if we want to be roommates. I’ll get back to you on this – I sure hope she’s not a smoker.

Just got back from the Embassy. Wow is all I’ll say, I’ve never seen security at this level. I couldn’t take in my camera, my cell phone, my jump drives, my umbrella – well you get the picture. On top of that, our embassy compound is miles from all the other consulates with guards wherever you turn. As an aside, I must mention that I loved that the embassy TV was broadcasting CNN. Oh by the way, the German lady had very limited funds, so rooming together wasn’t workable.

Bad News/Good News

2008-09-03T04:35:00.000-07:00

Let's start with the bad. I ended my official Peace Corps service yesterday when I flew out of Entebbe to Brussels. That's right I type this to you from yet another internet cafe, only this one is in Belgium. I gave up the ghosts of the past. Thinking all these years that I would save the Peace Corps for my retirement years, I learned quickly and decisively that "poor old sistah" could not take it. I could survive the lack of electricity and water, but the smelly pit latrines and the rats finally did me in! Let me tell you, trying to learn the local Ugandan west coast language of Runyoro-Rotooro was no picnic for me either. In any case I had to fly to Brussels to get a new Ugandan visa since I could no longer use the special Peace Corps visa. Yikes, 8 hrs. of flying just to pick up a visa. I head back "home" this weekend however.

Now with that said and done, I move to the good news. I will be living now in Kampala, the Ugandan capital, and my new home. I absolutely love it here and have already been swept up in the rhythmic hustle and bustle of this raucous and colorful city. I am searching for an apartment or room to let currently, and am putting in resumes to a number of aid and non-profit organizations to see if they'd be interested in my volunteer services. UNICEF and Oxfam top my list. I'm here to stay for the next year or so, so if any of you were seriously planning to visit me, start making those plans; be forewarned and read between the lines - roughing it is part of the package. I've already promised Francine that we'd do Ethiopia and I'm dying to visit Rwanda as soon as possible. THIS IS AN INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY. I hope as many of you as possible make the trek.

I've added a few photos to this installment so you could get a flavor of my Peace Corps life before I broke away! As the photos keep shifting on this blog, I'll just let you put my explanation with the photo. One is me being inoculated during training. Right arm got the rabies shot, left the yellow fever. Another is of my homestay mother hanging out in my bedroom; there's one with me and Peace Corps volunteers Christy and Hope celebrating at the Kampala Sheraton once I'd made my separation decision; one of my homestay family, the Kyamanywa's; and finally one of my fellow trainees at our Wakiso training site.

Going to end this one with: Keep those letters coming please! Send email to my peoplepc address if you'd like my Uganda cell phone number; love hearing your garbled voices whenever I can.

The adventure continues ...

Bicyles and Pee Pots

2008-08-16T00:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, you read that correctly. The difficult life here is even more so for me because I have become accustomed to the American life of luxury. I sit here at an internet cafe in Wakiso, Uganda knowing I need to wash and prepare for a 4 day trip to Entebbe, so this will just be a short posting. I am of course still in the training phase of Peace Corps and as mentioned, the life and routine is far harder than I could ever have imagined. I have been so humbled by the indomitable spirit of these sturdy Ugandans who smile with so much poverty around them. Having no electricity or running water has been very difficult to adjust to but, I can now light my own kersosene lantern, cold bathe in a bucket, hike up my skirts and use a pit latrine, and deftly use a pee bucket. I know this sounds gross but I am so proud of myself because I can do it.

Bicycling Loyci is a whole 'nuther story. The bikes we are given are big, rusty heavy ones (so that they can slosh through the mud and take the mountainous road bumps of course). When the hills become too steep, I just get off and push the darn thing. I'd have sent a photo but can't download off the internet cafe computers (circa late 80's). Photos will come at some point though. Uganda is an incredibly beautiful country and I am struggling with a second language called Runyoro-Rotooro that I will need to speak at my final home assignment.

Miss everybody a whole bunch. What I wouldn't give for a slice of toast with sesame tahini & blackberry jam. Starch, starch, starch is a heavy part of the Ugandan diet. I eat very little of that and grab fruit whenever I can. Beans and rice are also a staple. Yeah!!! I'm losing weight with all the walking and biking which is an excellent thing.

Peace and Love to you all.

Loyci's first blog

2008-07-26T13:18:00.000-07:00

This is my very first blog. I am technically challenged. Here is a picture of Loyci setting up her blog with her blog masters, Nick and Deacon.

Are we looking at a goat in Uganda?

2008-07-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

No, Scruffy the goat is not Ugandan stock. Since I continue to be a non-technie, Nick and Deacon are making me practice downloading photos. For the record, this little fellow lives in Gabe's backyard in East Palo Alto.