Mailtime!

Almost every Saturday, Kris and I wake up, fry up some eggs and toast, and then make the 45-minute trek to the nearest post office. It’s actually a really nice walk with beautiful views, and it passes by a place I suspect is a vineyard. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet gotten up the courage to follow through on my plan of climbing the mountain it’s on, knocking on the door, asking if they are actually a vineyard, and then gracefully accepting a few free bottles of wine.

After my weekly longing glance at Wine Mountain, we reach the post office and are enthusiastically greeted by the post master who we forever ingratiated ourselves with by speaking to him in hesitant, stumbling Runyankore when we first met him. He ducks into the back of the two-room building and, on the best days, comes out looking like a Ugandan Santa Claus, his arms full of letters and packages and his face beaming. We stuff our loot into Kris’s backpack, pay the delivery fees, and race back home where we allow ourselves to open one letter or package upon arrival. We then try to space out the opening of any other mail we’ve received for the rest of the day. Sometimes we even save a letter for the upcoming week when we know that one or both of us has a potentially rough or stressful day coming up. Mail from home is, without a doubt, one of the best outlets we have here.

Life is a new kind of stressful as Peace Corps Volunteers, and we have to find new ways to deal with it. A lot of outlets come from within – exercise, meditation, yoga, creative cooking, crafting, journaling, decorating. This inner dependence is not initially by choice; with unreliable electricity (I’ve discovered that I have the magical ability to make the house go dark by shaving my legs), limited grocery options, and expensive airtime, a lot of these are our only options for free-time activities. But those limited choices are actually one of the amazing things about being a PCV. You are pushed to reflect, rely upon yourself, and grow in a way that you have never been able to before.

However, there is only so much meditation and friendship-bracelet making you can do before you go insane. Luckily, we have incredible friends and family who have helped us to keep going, day after day, with our new-found appreciation of the lost art of mail. There is just nothing like a long, handwritten letter, the crack of the tape on a package as you tear into it, or the feeling of pulling one over on the postal system by stuffing as many things as possible into an envelope without having to add any more stamps.

This blog is a thank you for that appreciation, that outlet, that sanity. A thank you to not just those mentioned in this blog but to everyone out there who has brightened our day, helped us continue our work, and made us feel like we are still a part of their lives with a letter, a package, a card, a donation, an email, a Facebook message, a comment, or even a 12-year-old scotch. Webare munonga, banwanyi baitu.

Care packages galore! Ben, Laurel, Mom, Amanda, Grandma, Aunt Susie, Becky - you guys know how to pack a box! 

 Letters, cards, and assorted goodies from home - including several from Nita, our most avid pen pal.

 Pen, paper, and a wine cork, and Andrea made one of the most inspiring and treasured possessions we have.

A letter from Steve and Amanda doubling as both wall decoration and crazy awesome emotional support.

Unk Ritchie - making us laugh, think, and appreciate, all at the same time.

Every time I look at this, it makes me smile.

One of the best presents I've ever gotten, Shawn - really.

My pupils are reaping the benefits of our care packages too!

Although it is leading to the perpetuation of some American stereotypes...

Marilyn, Amanda, and Mom - they absolutely love the books you sent! My library is more flooded with excited readers than ever.

"Happiness is only real when shared." - Christopher McCandless

Creation with Donations

I love libraries - any kind of library. Two shelves in a friend's home that I pour through, looking for books I haven't read yet that I can steal. An old, musty library where I can get lost in the stacks, running my hands along the coarse spines of aged books. A new library, full of light and computers where kids plop down in sunny spots filled with brightly-colored mini-tables and chairs. Some of my happiest and most content moments in life have taken place inside that comforting, inspiring, and magical setting.

I have been volunteering or working in libraries ever since elementary school (although in elementary school "volunteer" really meant bugging the librarians until they would let me help them). I am not surprised, but rather incredibly happy, that I find myself working in a library in Uganda as well, although this time I am doing more than just working in one - I am creating one. Which, let's just face it, is pretty much the coolest thing ever.

As the first step to creating an actual library through financial aid and book donations as requested by my primary school, I have been working with the teachers to bring down the books that they do have to an empty classroom. After several Primary 7 pupils helped me carry down the few cabinets of books, I spent several weeks dusting, debugging, taping, and otherwise repairing and organizing the collection. This gave me a lot of time to think about the nature of book donations in general.

Most of the books in our current collection have been donated to the school in the past from Western countries. While I know that sending books to Africa is mostly done with the best of intentions, it appears that some education about donations needs to go along with those intentions. The kids at my school are hungry for books, this is true, but it does not mean that any book will suit their needs.

 We have a set of 25 books on shorthand - and not introductory shorthand, but accompanying texts to an intermediate book.

We also have a set of books on Canadian business mathematics - I mean, when will knowing what 50 cents in Canadian currency looks like NOT be useful in Uganda?

While sending old books that are no longer used in the U.S., Britain, or Canada may seem like a win-win for both those schools and African schools, outdated texts that are often eurocentric are not necessarily helpful for African students anymore either.

 I am guessing that kid probably didn't get his money...I wonder if he still feels the same about Metallica.

Copyright 1964 - and this is not the oldest textbook we have.

Despite the years that have passed, the jokes still remain the same.

In order for truly successful and useful libraries in Africa to be created, donations need to be solicited in a way that enables the recipient librarian to evaluate and select the materials that they need with their patrons in mind. Unfortunately, not just any books will do. Libraries need stock which is relevant, of an appropriate reading and language level, and reflective of their own culture and literature as well as others. 20 copies of Vanna White's biography just don't quite meet those standards.

It is true that my students are desperate to read, gain knowledge and further their educations; so much of their potential is going unfulfilled because of a lack of supplies, and I know that they are grateful for any books that are placed in their hands. However, to make their potential a reality, they don't need just any tools - they need the right tools. Hopefully, in the future, we will be able to provide just that. We already are lucky to have some books that address the language, current issues, and culture of our kids, and I am so excited to share those books with them:

A book in the local language, Runyankore - reading these books helps me study too!

Part of the Fountain Youth Survival Kit for Schools, created with Ugandan youth in mind.

A beginning English book written and published in Uganda.

With time, more work, and donations that take the needs of both the donor and recipient into account, we could reveal paths to these students that they have never been able to glimpse before and possibly even provide some of the comfort, inspiration, and magic that filled my childhood.

If you are interested in learning a little more about this, the following paper is one of the few studies I've found that addresses this issue. It also offers several new ideas to traditional book donation: Traditional Book Donation to Sub-Saharan Africa.

“Harry — I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!”

And she sprinted away, up the stairs.

“What does she understand?” said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

“Loads more than I do,” said Ron, shaking his head.

“But why’s she got to go to the library?”

“Because that’s what Hermione does,” said Ron, shrugging. “When in doubt, go to the library.” 

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets