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Published: July 21st 2008
Gulu
My hotel, Pearl Afrique There have been brief but heavy downpours every two days. I awoke in the middle of the night Friday to find the floor in my room and bathroom covered with bugs with wingspans about three inches! Thought they were mesquites so I was franticly stomping on them. They were all over the hallways the next morning. I later learned they were White Ants, a local delicacy. The market was selling them in many different prepared ways Saturday.
The hotel staff are all in the late teens and early twenties and they work from 6 A.M. to at least 12 A.M.; no relief shifts. They are so polite and attentive it is sometimes hard to take. If you step into the courtyard and return in thirty-seconds you are greeted with: "welcome back." There is no tipping anywhere. The assumption is everyone is too poor to tip so it is not a part of the culture. The laundry through-out the country is done by hand and air dried. No machine has ever cleaned my clothes as well as they have been in Uganda.
Saturday was TKL gameday, the first of the season. About 340 children are involved and
Gulu
Hotel staff Sarah, Oloya, & Jaclyn like Kampala, the day takes on a festive atmosphere. It was at the soccer stadium I reached my ultimate destination for this adventure. The Inquirer article that drew me here had a partially silhouetted photo of four girls playing netball, a game resembling basketball with rules like Ultimate-Frisbee. This is where I was drawn to, and this is where I stood, conversed, and photographed for thirty-minutes. I felt fulfilled and had a tremendous feeling of satisfaction. My personal goal was to recreate the newspaper photo...and I did!
Later in the day I conducted the second practice with the kids from the school for war victims. While I was waiting for everyone to arrive, Godfrey approached me, a neighbor. Some children were watching the session Friday and wanted to learn basketball as well. He then wanted to show me the work he was doing and gave me a tour of his brick-making facility. This is a for-profit venture funded by the government for victims of landmines during and after the war. Many people are still mutilated each year from landmines left in the ground.
The practice was a huge success and one more neighborhood man joined in
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Hotel laundry to assist. Not only was I able to teach the kids the basics of the games, I was able to train three adults who will carry on when I leave. I will be sending manuals and game and training dvds to help them. The kids had a blast and laughed and giggled their way through the sessions. I could not help but stop occasionally to reflect; just a few months ago these boys held guns in the very hands I was now touching. Those beautiful eyes I was now searching in the girls recorded violations I care not to imagine. When we posed for the group shot, I took the hand of a boy on one side and a girl on the other to place them on the basketball. Both tensed up and pulled back. I wouldn't let go and we all looked each other in the eyes and smiled. They relaxed and let me guide them. It was that moment I realized why I had been drawn to Gulu; to witness life in it's purest and most powerful state. I will never be the same after all of this, and that is a good thing...I am beginning to understand
Gulu
Warm-ups before the game were beautiful dance-like movements my purpose in life.
Sunday I boarded the bus to return to Kampala. I literally had to fight to board with about thirty passengers; it was the only bus leaving for hours. We were packed in and some had to stand for the four-hour trip. Cock-roaches were climbing on bodies and heads, a woman behind me killed one on my shoulders. Several live chickens were on board and sat freely on the floor. One rooster nestled in beside my foot for the duration of the ride. It was kind of like having my dog Roc keeping me company.
I'm back in Kampala preparing to make a presentation at a TKL coaches clinic at Makerere University. My mind is focused on the task at hand, but my heart remains in Gulu. I can not wait to return to my new friends in that special place of the world.
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marty
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Your gifts............
Your description brought tears to my eyes, Charlie. How percious are the gifts of time and talent you have given, and how much more you have gotten in return. That bus you described is like the ones I rode up country in Kenya, when I was 9 months pregnant with my first child. Yesterday in Meeting I described what you were doing and asked my Friends to hold you in the light.