26 months down, 1 month to go.

Mulembe everyone!

Yes, it’s true I do “failfailfailfail at blogging” – to quote Anita. It’s been 6+months now and I’ve forgotten whatever colourful anecdotes I had saved up so I’ll make this quick (yea, right).

I’m alive… despite a nasty bout of malaria & an amoebic gut infection (both at the same time! Bonus points for me!) …Despite almost walking right into 3 days of riots in Kampala that killed over a dozen people (and made me terrified for my friends and family who will be here during the 2011 elections)… despite wading through an ocean of drama and bullshit that’s engulfed both my organizations and PC Uganda itself. Don’t worry, I’m not bitter… but I am a bit tired and though I’m incredibly saddened by all the goodbyes I’ll have to do, I couldn’t be leaving the village and Peace Corps at a better time ( I don’t really want to leave Uganda though :-( ).

So as of yet, I still don’t know if I’m getting replaced by another PCV so I’ve been planning as if I won’t and trying to make sure my programmes are… what’s the buzz word?... SUSTAINABLE! My main focus has been my Community Health Educators Programme (we call them CHEs… as in Guevara… I know, big surprise right? Well, in my defence calling them CHEs was a better alternative to KAMs (Karine’s Army of Me)… though it was a tough call).

So I think in my last post I talked about planning a two-week course for 10 people with a curriculum based on a 100 page manual I was writing. Well, true to form I over-extended myself and the 2-week course trained 15 CHEs using a 148-page manual I spent all hours of the day writing right up to the hour I delivered it to the printers in Kampala. It was HECTIC. My counterpart and I ran the training but we had about a dozen guest facilitators from the district hospital, from Mbale, and from surrounding health centres coming to teach on their particular field of expertise. It was such an amazing experience! Over the course of 11 days, from 9am-6pm we had perfect attendance from all the CHEs; their commitment to our cause – nay, our revolution (exclamation point!) – was truly inspiring. The training covered both curative and preventative approaches to medicine… so topics ranged from malaria, HIV/AIDS & palliative care, first aid techniques, nutrition, and STDs to life skills, mental health, hygiene & sanitation, and one of my favourite sessions “gender issues in relation to health” (which was led by an remarkable health worker from a neighbouring health centre). We capped the training with a “graduation” ceremony complete with balloons, cake, soda, long-winded speeches (mine included)… and celebratory beers for Mike, Dennis, and I. Along with certificates, the CHEs were also given gum boots, umbrellas, t-shirts, and sweet first aid kits Dennis and I designed, then sent out into the world to preach the good news!

Of course lots of things went horribly wrong during training and I had several minor meltdowns (ex: I actually ran into a pit latrine to cry in frustration one afternoon HAHA) but it all came together and was very successful. The best part – besides the CHEs being their superstar selves – was seeing how excited both AAH and FIMRC was about the programme and how everyone pitched in to help during those two weeks. The AAH kitchen cooked all of our meals and was so wonderfully responsive to all my frenzied demands. The AAH administration offered supplies and empty rooms whenever I asked. Mike, the FIMRC staff in the US, and my clinic staff helped by facilitating sessions, carrying heavy objects, and listening to me rant (yes, even PC hasn’t rid me of the need to rant… loudly… whenever possible). It felt really good to have created programme that brought everyone together so well.

So the CHEs essentially make up our outreach team now. They now do all the activities I did in my first year here: teach our seven health groups, create and implement community health outreaches, and educate patients in the waiting area of our clinic. Additionally, they’re vital to our VCT Programme (for HIV-positive clients who test at our clinic) because they conduct home visits to our 100+ clients to educate and promote a “positive living” lifestyle (good nutrition, sanitation, protected sex, etc), monitor drug adherence, and offer psycho-social support.

I remember when training ended, telling Dennis something like, “Well the hard part is over”… then collapsing into bed for 13 hours.... now, I can’t believe who utterly wrong I was! The hardest part by far has been harnessing all the energy and ambition everyone has (the CHEs, my counterpart and I, FIMRC as an organization) and trying to incorporate that into a coherent programme with clear, measurable goals and a… buzz word… strategic plan! So since June that’s been my main focus: creating a strategic plan with a management scheme that can monitor and evaluate the CHEs’ activities. I have about a month left and I’m not nearly where I’d like to be but… I suppose that’s expected. Additionally, I’m super excited because FIMRC HQ (in Philly) loves my manual and they’re making copies for the other FIMRC projects around the world (http://www.fimrc.org/). Also, FIMRC’s clinic in Kodaikanal, India is already working to implement my CHE programme there! I’m going global, y’all!

Oh and late July I travelled to Zambia to see my mother, father, and little brother Jeremiah (my dad works for World Vision there). I arrived just 2 weeks shy of 2 years since I’d left my parents at Union Station in DC. The minute I saw my mother at the airport, I was a crying mess. The first thing she said to me was, “Oh my god, you’re a woman now!!!” HAHA. I responded, “I know, crazy right?” It was SO GOOD to see my family. I spent all of those glorious two weeks over-eating, hanging out, and drinking lots of wine. Good times.

Since my return to Uganda I’ve dived back in to work… and I’ve started saying goodbye to my training group members (the volunteers I entered the country with)… as they leave the country, starting this week. I don’t COS (officially end PC) until Oct 30^th – at that point I’ll be the last one of my group still in country. So, I’ll be saying goodbye for a while. It’s so strange but what they say is true: no matter how close (or not) I’ve gotten to my training group members, I definitely feel a strong bond with all of them… our experience as PCVs is so unique and so hard to communicate… I’m thankful there are at least 18 people out there who will always understand me when I talk about this chapter in my life. Big ups to my fellow Screaming Eagles: “BACAW!!! CAW!!! CAW!!!” :-D

So, the important questions:

1. Am I ready to come back to the US? No.
2. Am I happy to come back? Uh…. Violently ambivalent is probably the best way to put it.
3. What am I going do when I return? Sleep, eat, chill with my family, visit you.
4. What am I going to do “with my life” when I return? Sleep… ok ok… get a job, apply to med school or a post-bac programme, and plan a wedding. :-D
5. What’s the first thing I’m going to do when I get home? TAKE A LONG HOT SHOWER (because I can!) then eat Coldstone’s coffee ice cream with crushed Health bars as I watch Speed Racer with Jeremiah.
6. What am I going to miss most about being in Uganda? Hmm… that could take another 4 paragraphs. I’ll be concise.

• I’m going to miss being a part of a community that actually takes that word seriously.
• I’m going to miss “not sweating the small stuff” because what matters most is made so much more apparent when you live a low-resource setting.
• I’m going to miss being around people who understand that “low-resource” means materially or economically but that that isn’t the only criterion (or even the primary one) in determining what makes a life good or worth living.
• I’m going to miss tea time with my teachers/neighbours… and time spent with all my friends here.
• I’m going to miss MY WORK. I’m going to miss being able to quote Fanon or Easterly or Ayittey… and then use real-life, recent, and personal examples of my experiences in development to back it up. I’m going to miss being an active part of the solution at the grass-roots level. (But I’ll come back to it ASAP. I’m almost 100% sure the bulk of my adult life will not be spent in the US.)
• Most of all, I’m going to miss my Uganda family!!! (ugh, here come the tears).

So after I COS, Dennis and I are travelling to Kenya for a bit then I’m going to be bumming around Europe (and maybe Cameroon) for a bit more… will arrive at Dulles airport on November 25/26. Maybe I’ll squeeze in another blog entry… but don’t count on it, haha.

Thanks to all who’ve been reading.

[If you’re a current applicant or thinking of applying to PC… congrats on deciding to embark on the most challenging and rewarding adventure you’ve ever had (they say that about motherhood too but… I can’t comment on that)].

Peace & love,

~K

What You Know About That?

Ok so I recently heard a complaint that my last blog contained too much info about work and not enough about “my condition”. It may sound sad but “my condition” is (perhaps, pathetically) intimately linked to my work. Nevertheless, when I’m not working, here are some random things that occupy my time – in no particular order:

1. I spend a couple hours of many evenings in torturous solitary confinement studying for the MCATs while cursinig myself for choosing medicine as my future vocation. Why can’t I be content being a…masseuse? I’m not saying it’s easier… I’m just saying, if I were compelled to be a masseuse, I wouldn’t have to take the MCATs… thus greatly increasing my (current) quality of life.
   

2. When I’m bored I make playlists for people back home…mixes they won’t see until I get back because I always forget to burn and mail them. At this point, Meredith is entitled to 2 playlists (one of which is an amazing compilation of Tom Waits, Lucinda Williams and early Beck songs!), Anita has a few more (no, none of them include any Animal Collective), and so does Brenda. One day, guys… one day.

3. I love sharing little “American goodies” with my co-workers because they’re always so receptive and it’s always a memorable experience. A couple day ago I gave Milly a bar of the Sheer Freesia soap I just got (thanks Anita!) and a Mentha Lip Balm tube I had and we discussed Bath & Body Works as if it was a little slice of feminine utopia right here on earth. I also like baking cakes on Sundays (on a makeshift dutch oven over a charcoal fire – I channel Nigella Lawson or Paula Deen every time I bake) and bringing it to work for lunch. But the best experience was a few months back when I was playing music from my computer library for Edwin and Milly… they didn’t like most of what they heard (it’s true, the Kid A album is an acquired taste) but once Shakira’s “La Tortura” came on… it was a total dance party right in my office! Edwin turned to me and said, “This is a wonderful song!” I couldn’t agree more – though it sucked to confess she isn’t actually American.
   

4. Lately, I’ve been working through occasional anxiety attacks (usually brought on by thoughts of readjusting in the US – I’m back in SEVEN MONTHS, people!!!!) by listening to a Buddhist meditation CD I got from Mike, my clinic’s new (American) manager. The narrator sounds like a Sesame Street character spouting spontaneous acid-laced haikus after having 5 glasses of wine…I don’t really get anything he says…which makes me think he’s probably wise…which soothes the anxiety. (hardy har har)

5. Oh, I’ve been teaching Dennis guitar and he’ll soon be learning the harmonies to my favourite songs … you know, so we have a “Plan B” just in case the med school & business school thing doesn’t pan out (haha). Just wait til you hear our acoustic version of R.Kelly’s “Happy People”…it will Blow. Your. Mind. Period.
   

6. On the weekends I often hold a 1-woman dance party every time Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” comes on the radio –which is at least a dozen times on Saturdays (no lie, ask Dennis – sometimes it becomes a dance party for two). You all know how it goes… I hear two bars of the song… I drop whatever I’m doing and scream “THAT’S MY SONG!”… everyone here is still puzzled by my enthusiasm for my favourite songs… what can I say, I love my jams.

7. I have evening tea with my neighbours on the porch several times a week and I’ve started collecting the stories they tell for an anthology (I will most likely never write) called “So We Built The House For The Leopard” (HAHA). My neighbours have hands-down some of the most interesting, funniest stories to tell that are a wonderful way to really understand what the Ugandan spirit is like (cheesy as that may sound). Anyway I’ve sent some of them to some of you already and you seem to enjoy them.. we’ll see where that goes.
   

8. The Luleteros and I have embarked on a weekend wine-tasting tour. Every weekend, we (Dennis, Mama Jane, D’s sisters, and I) taste a new bottle of wine and deliberate on its merits and faults. Basically we get buzzed, family style. Good times. (I’m joking – not about the wine but about the buzzed part…sort of).

Ok, I think that about summarizes how I spend my "off" time these days: Beyonce, a little wine, some music, some story-telling. Life’s good. :-)

Peace,

~K

Kamakhuwa?

Mulembe Everyone!

I know it’s been a long time since I last wrote. Yes, I am alive and well. I’ve just been very busy working and travelling. So to make up for the time I’ve missed: Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and, Happy Valentine’s Day! (I think that covers it all). So… where to begin?

Work
Work has been pretty amazing. I’ve been super busy – due mainly to a welcome change in management at the clinic and the implementation of a slew of new programs at the clinic and a brand new laptop i got from an AMAZING friend :-). First off, during the long school holiday that lasts from 1st week of December – 1st week of February, I taught a 2-week long Life Skills camp to the graduating P7s and the alums of AAH (the S2 & S3 kids) who had come back home from vacation. Imagine spending 2 hours a day talking to ~100 teenagers about their most pressing issues: love, self-esteem, resisting peer pressure, professional and personal goals, how to avoid risky behaviour, preventing early pregnancy, and of course… sex sex sex. All day, every day. It was, in a word, FUN. Haha. The kids were so open and eager to learn. It was surprisingly easy to talk about the more sensitive issues (like negotiating condom use) because they were really excited about just being able to get their questions answered in a non-judgmental, non-confrontational setting. By far the best (read: awkward) moment was when a P7 kid asked me during my (now perfected) condom demonstration:

Student: Teacher Karine, how do I know I’m done using the condom?
Me: [pauses in confusion]: Uh when you’ve finished. When the man ejaculates.
Student: And how do I know I’ve ejaculated?
Me: When you co– uh… when you are…well, satisfied.
Class [nodding heads in unison]: Aaahhh… we understand.
Me [under my breath]: Oh dear god, please let it stop here.
Another Student: When you say “satisfied”, what-----
Me: ---No, we’re moving on from this for now. Thank you!

I try to be open but boundaries are a must with teenagers, haha. But you all know I relish awkward moments so… I had a great time trying to be as frank as possible without seeming confrontational (especially in the eyes of school administrators - AAH is a private Christian school). I also made sure to advertise “office hours” so the kids could come and have a personal conversation with me… conversations that often led to me walking them to our clinical officer’s room so they could get checked out for various STIs. Once again confirming that the foundation of any positive progress is EDUCATION, plain and simple.

FAL
Speaking of education, I also started teaching English in January! I guess the saying is true: no matter what you’re assigned to do as a PCV, you almost always end up teaching English! It was pretty random how this evolved…the women in my community health groups have been pressuring me to teach them Luzungu (English, or literal translation: “the language of foreigners”) for a long time now but I never felt like I had enough time to devote to such an endeavour. So instead I tried to enlist the help of the district government in the hopes of getting a certified Functional Adult Literacy (FAL) instructor for my women. But my district being what it is, the instructor has yet to materialize after months of lobbying (I’ve been reading a George Stephanopolous memoir, can you tell?). So one day I decided to take matters into my own hands: I gathered information and used the curriculum for the 1st grade class at my school to make a baseline literacy test (for placement purposes)…then I announced to my health groups that anyone who was interested could come, take the test, and join the FAL programme. I was expecting 15-20 people but 80 men and women showed up! It was very exciting…and terrifying. My counterpart Wilson helped me administer the test and separate students into three (broad) levels of literacy.

It’s been chaotic and challenging but I’ve recruited the help of a few other community members so I’m not teaching them all alone. I’m now fully versed in the art of teaching phonics, the blending of letters, the importance of dolch words – stuff I previously knew nothing about. It’s one of my most favourite work programmes now. The best part is seeing the enthusiasm and hope that this program is generating especially in the women. The FAL students are divided into 3 levels (we call them P1, P2, and P3). The lowest level (P1) consists of men and women who don’t know anything. My favourite student is a woman called Kukhu Victor (kukhu = grandma). She’s in her late 60s (which is ancient here) and she can barely see but she’s been coming to learn her ABC’s and she scolds the other women when they talk in class during my teaching haha. She’s so awesome! I have a special seat for her – near a big window with lots of light in the afternoon – and I print all her papers in extra big font for her. She’s really an inspiration.

It’s been two months now and sometimes I get really tired of making FAL lesson plans (teaching people to read is HARD… plus I hate making lesson plans anyway) but every time I start wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into, something/someone really inspires me to continue. This week it was in the form of an anecdote from the school bursar. He came into my office and told me that a mother came to pay school fees and instead of signing the receipt with her usual thumb print, she initialled her name. Surprised, he asked her when she’d learned how to write and she (quite saucily) told him, “Oh, learning isn’t just for our kids, you know. Karine is helping us women – she’s teaching us how to read and write. We too will now be educated.” He then laughed and encouraged me to “continue the good work”. It’s just a little thing, but I’ll admit I got a little teary-eyed. It always feels good to know you’re useful.

Testing the testing
I’ve also been continuing my work on the clinic’s VCT programme. We’ve started weekly HIV testing, which is great, but we’ve been having a lot of issues with tracking and following up with clients. I (with a lot of help from Liz) created a protocol for the clinic to help identify who is in charge of what: testing, counselling, updating clients’ charts, follow-up counselling, outreaches in the community, funding for transport, etc. The programme is still new and there are a lot of kinks to work out, a lot of privacy/confidentiality issues due to the size and location of our clinic, a lot of people falling through the cracks – not getting adequate follow-up from us after they start on ARVs…the list goes on. Anyway, it’s been challenging getting everyone on board but I’m trying to make it happen. I also went to the district this week to start inquiries about possibly getting a CD4 machine for our district hospital; it measures the amount of CD4 cells HIV-positive clients have and is used as an indicator for starting a client on ARVs. Currently all health clinics have to send clients to JCRC or TASO in Mbale town for the CD4 test – a lot of money spent on the cost of the test (which is already heavily subsidized by the Ministry of health) and the cost of the 1.5hr ride to town. So anyway, I went to the district health offices to talk about the CD4 machine, made some progress, then ran into the hospital’s psychiatrists – who only come out to my rural district once a week. We talked & I essentially begged them to come educate my health groups about the most prevalent mental health disorders and coping mechanisms. I’m also going to try to talk them into holding bimonthly mental health sessions at my clinic… but we’ll see.

Army of Me (yeah, Bjork!)
Perhaps the biggest project I’m working on is my Health Educators Training Programme. In my (I’d like to think) ever-present efforts to satisfy the criterion of sustainability in my projects, I’ve decided that the best way to “sustain” my work is to train a little army of me (ha ha…ha). I’m creating a 2-week training course to instruct 10 community health group leaders how to… basically do my job when I leave. It’s taken several months of preparation (and I’m still not done) because I’m creating a ~100page training/resource manual myself (on my own time, mind you). But we’ve already mobilized the trainees (trying to keep in mind gender balance and diversity of skills… we just recruited a traditional birth attendant – exciting!) and my NGO is supportive - after all we'll be increasing the clinic's working capacity. So I’m working to finish up the budget, finish the grant proposal to PC to fund the programme, enlist help from my NGO to create basic medical kits for each trainee, and a multitude of other tasks. My goal is to train in April so the new health educators will have 6 months to work with me everyday and get comfortable in their new positions.

…And Still More Work
Besides all that I’ve resumed teaching health science / life skills once a week at the primary school. I’ve also started venturing out to do 2-hour life skills sessions at the closest secondary school and I’ve been working with several community savings groups using CARE’s Village Savings & Loans Association programme (really great microfinance programme for rural communities). I’ve also been involved in PC’s Peer Support and Diversity Network (PSDN), a network of volunteers who try to provide psycho-social support to other volunteers. It’s a bit funny to have a “support” institutionalized but… it can often be useful to request advice or support from someone you aren’t close to, someone who is far enough away from an emotionally stressful situation to give objective advice. I’m most excited about the fact that several members of the group will be training new PSDN members and PC-Uganda staff on diversity issues based on the Safe Space training I underwent at UVA. In addition to LBGQ issues (no T allowed in Peace Corps, can you believe it?), the training will also touch on recognizing and celebrating ethnic/cultural diversity among Americans, respecting religious (or non--) diversity, etc. I think it’ll be a great step towards creating a comfortable safe space for all types of PCVs in country – regardless of their background.

The Leave-Taking
Yea, so in the last couple months when I haven’t been working, I’ve been busy saying goodbye (:tear:). First, a co-worker quit. Then Renee, a PCV from my training group (and former co-worker of Dennis’) was medically separated from PC after a serious car accident. Then most recently (and most tragically…in my selfish mind anyway) my best friend Liz went home as well in early February. Saying goodbye to Liz really made me realize how intense this PC experience has been. In just 1.5 years I’ve become better friends with her than people I’ve known for much much longer. And I’m so grateful to have shared this time with her (and with Dennis of course) because this is not something that can be adequately expressed in words – it’s good to have people I’m close to really understand what it’s been like. Anyway, in my darker moments I’ve been forcing Dennis to sit though Gossip Girl and Sex and the City marathons with me but (unsurprisingly) it’s just not the same haha. He doesn’t understand why I love Blair and Samantha so much. Sigh. I miss you Liz!!!!!

Haha ok, enough whining.

…And Everything Else
what else have I been doing? Not much… on the weekends I’m almost always in Jinja with the Luletero clan (Dennis’ family) whom have definitely become an extension of my family. There’s nothing more fun than watching horrible Nigerian movies with his 4 sisters and hearing him groan sarcastically every time he walks by on the way to the kitchen lol. I’ve also promised myself to relax as much as possible on the weekends because I’ve been super sickly lately. In January I had an almost daily recurrent fever for two weeks, body aches, nausea, etc. Tests came back negative for malaria so I went to Kampala and had “The Works”: blood test, urinalysis, stool sample test. The only strange result was a really high white blood cell count. So apparently I’ve been fighting something… we just don’t know what. So it’s been officially labelled a “viral infection”. But I’ve been feeling better these days so… I won, I guess.

Ok, I think I’ll stop there for now. Thanks for reading this uber-long post! I would love to hear back from each and every one of you.

Peace & love,

~K

p.s. Kamakhuwa is Lugisu for: What's the news? What's good? What's up?

DAWN

Hi Everyone,
so needless to say, this has been an amazing couple of days. I've been walking around with a very pronounced sense of hope (and frankly, relief) because -crazy as it may sound - i desperately wished for Obama to win but was nervous that somehow, someway, something would block it from happening. My friends and i rented a room and had CNN on ALL night... we slept for no more that 2 hours each and cheered every time Obama was given a state. Then at exactly 7am (our time) CNN announced Obama won... we screamed and jumped around...absolutely delirious. I'll never forget it.

As a side note, let me just say: I'm proud of you, Virginia.

So while i did regret not being in the US to celebrate with everyone back home, I had a great time celebrating here. That's what makes this so incredibly poignant - this was everyone's victory, including Africa's. Just today (as it happens almost every time i'm on town) a man next to me asked me where i was from when he heard my accent. When i replied, "America son, you better recognize!" ... no i didn't, but i wanted to.... anyway, when i said i'm from America, instead of saying "Oh, Bush is no good", like people have done for the past year, he said "OBAMA!!!! Now our brother is in the house that is white, yes? Well done!!!!" I was like, "Amen brother. Sometimes we Americans get it right!" haha.

So well done to everyone back home. :-) Though this is not a indication of a new "post-race, post-gender " America ( i still cannot believe an apparently well-educated CNN commentator dared to suggest this) , this is definitely a giant leap forward and i feel so blessed to have witnessed it.

ok, as for me, i'm doing well here. Busy as always but enjoying myself. I hope you're all doing ok.

much love,

~K