The Amazing Race Comes to Bushenyi!

A new group of Health and Agriculture trainees arrived in Uganda two months ago. Like my Education cohort did, they completed their “Boot Camp” and have moved on to stay with host families for intensive language training. The Southwest group, about 9 volunteers in total who will be placed in the Runyankore/Rukiga language region, is staying in Bushenyi Town, not too far from me and Kris. They attend language classes in town six days a week and every Friday, Kris has arranged for them to compete in…The Amazing Race: Uganda! If you’re not familiar with The Amazing Race, it’s reality TV show where teams of two race around the world to complete various tasks in different countries. It also turns out to be a great concept to adapt for language learning.

Part of Peace Corps language training is known as “community experience." This involves the trainees being set free in the local area in which they are staying and told to use the language tasks that they have been learning. They are supposed to practice greeting, ordering food, haggling, finding transportation, and, of course, talking up the Peace Corps with whomever they can find. It sounds fairly simple but in reality, as any language teacher knows, that's a monumental assignment for a student, especially when they're an adult. The uncertainty, fear, and exhaustion of being in a new culture coupled with attending classes eight hours a day, six days a week means that most students are too reluctant, too nervous, or just plain too tired to take their own initiative to practice their new language in a real-world context. 

One way to combat this is to give learners more specific assignments to complete. Creating guidelines and a safe, predetermined space to practice mitigates a lot of the anxiety adult learners can feel. After all, when you’re speaking a brand new language to native speakers, you really do feel like a child again a lot of the time! Add this idea to the fact that, when you’re American, you will naturally turn these tasks into a competition, and The Amazing Race: Uganda is born. The prize? Homemade baked goods, of course, from a selection of the six I’m able to make here. There are few things a Peace Corps trainee dreams about more than food (sorry, friends and family – they still love you).

So, each week, Kris has been traveling around Bushenyi Town and speaking to our Ugandan friends, asking them to provide tasks and interact with the trainees in local language as part of the Amazing Race. In a fringe benefit that we weren't expecting, the locals have absolutely been loving it. It means a lot to them to see foreigners really making an effort to get to know who they are while caring so obviously about their language and their culture. Plus, it’s funny to see a bunch of Americans running around frantically, trying desperately to remember the word for bananas.

This week, the race came to our trading center and schools! Kris set up tasks around the area and I waited at my primary school while Kris “released” the teams five minutes apart in Bushenyi Town. They had to travel by public transportation to our trading center, complete four tasks and one detour, and then travel back again.

The first clue:

You have to haggle for almost everything here, including transport, so 10,000 shillings can go fast if you're not good at bargaining!

Second clue:

Those might have been our clothes that the trainees were washing...

Third clue:

Immaculate has actually seen the Amazing Race, so she was super excited!

After talking to Immaculate, the trainees were given a fourth clue directing them to my primary school. Upon arriving, they had to enter the Primary One or Primary Two classroom and be taught a song by the pupils and teacher. My headteacher and deputy headteacher were there to greet them when they arrived, bemusedly shaking hands and directing the sweaty Americans to the correct classroom block. 

Each class presented its own challenges and advantages. Hope, the P1 teacher, was very strict about pronunciation, but she had written down the song for the trainees and allowed them to sit in the back with the class. 

Rebecca, the P2 teacher, was less strict about pronunciation, but she wouldn't let the trainees write anything down and made them stand in front of the class to learn the words.

Such good sports!

It is a simple song that the teachers sing with the little ones when it's time to practice handwriting: 

Kampandiike gye

Kampandiike gye

Kampandiike kurungi

Ndyaba karaani!

Let me write well

Let me write well

Let me write so very well

I will be a secretary!

Its length didn't make it any less difficult to sing in front of a class, however! But with the promise of baked goods on the line, the trainees performed beautifully.

Receiving their next clue from the primary school secretary.

The last clue involved a trip to the banana stand clear at the other end of the trading center. The volunteers had to haggle the price down to a reasonable 2,000 shillings and hope that they had enough left out of their 10,000 shillings to make it back to Bushenyi Town!

The set aside items might also have been from our grocery list...

It all ended up in a sprint to the finish line between two of the four teams, with one victoriously claiming their prizes of no-bake cookies and coffee cake. Hopefully, however, everyone also left with a better understanding of how to navigate around Uganda, a greater proficiency in Runyankore, increased confidence, and some good, albeit ridiculous, memories. 

"That was fun, but it wasn't fun."

- JJ from the Amazing Race

Fun and Games, Village Style

Practically from the moment they can walk, village kids begin helping their family out,

fetching water, tending goats and cattle, and taking care of younger siblings. Their responsibilities are a huge part of their lives – but of course, there’s always time to play. Whether watching their family’s herd, looking after their little sister, or hanging with friends during break time at school, there are games to be invented. While recreation for children in the more urbanized parts of Uganda bears a resemblance to American children’s toys and games, the “make it work” spirit of Uganda is very much alive in its rural children. Wherever they are, my pupils are prepared to augment their imaginations with cars made of sticks, cardboard, and bottle caps and to make sports possible with jumpropes made out of twisted banana fiber and soccer balls made out of plastic bags. These kids are resourceful!

One of the soccer balls (footballs), made out of plastic bags and secured with twisted and knotted banana leaf fiber.

During break time at my school there is no official supervision by adults. Instead the pupils self-organize games and competitions. The activities are somewhat monitored by the prefects but for the most part, their lifestyle has made these kids independent and responsible enough to work out any issues that might come up. The activities are fairly segregated, with boys playing football (the older boys get the grass while the younger boys play on the dirt around a big tree – certainly adding to the strategy of the game!) and girls jumping rope or playing a game with bricks and plastic bag-balls that I still don’t entirely get.

Of course, there's always time to read in the library too!

There are also some scheduled “games and sports” events at school, when the time, resources, and personnel are available. This last term was staked out for athletics – basically track and field. My husband Kris and I showed up at the primary school one day and the library had become a storage room for jerry cans, mysterious lengths of sticks, odd foam pieces, and, shockingly, a javelin, a discus, and a shotput! Pretty much the last things I expected to see in rural Uganda. The deputy headteacher explained that these were the supplies for the sub-county athletics competition that was going to be held at the college.

Kris, the javelin master. The javelin was actually pretty sharp...

The first time I've ever personally laid eyes on a discus, and it was in Uganda. Take that, stereotypes!

The field day consisted of the top athletic pupils from schools around the sub-county competing for the purpose of forming a county team from the best performers. The economic difference amongst the schools, even within such a small area, was readily apparent from the moment Kris and I walked down to the college’s pitch. While my pupils wore their school uniforms when not competing and stripped down to tank tops, biker shorts, and even boxers to race – normally not at all acceptable in Uganda – pupils from other schools had matching sports uniforms, some even with personalized names and numbers on the back. 

Two of my pupils, Peace and Sandrah.

Some uniformed pupils from other schools watching their classmates compete.

Despite the outward differences, every pupil was extremely excited and wound up to compete. During the longer races, which were staked out with sharpened wooden sticks around the pitch to approximate a track, the pupils not competing ran wildly back and forth, yelling and screaming and cheering their classmates on. Of course, aside from having a day off of school and being allowed for once to burn off all of their youthful energy, a lot of this probably had to do with the fact that every teacher was feeding their pupils a steady stream of glucose from large cans. When Gatorade’s not available, piling glucose into eager hands is the next best thing to keep your team's energy up!

Going all out - I can't remember the last time I saw someone give absolutely 100% of what they have.

Glucose for everybody!

When it got to the hurdle portion of the day, the purpose of the mysterious foam pieces, jerry cans, and sticks that Kris and I had seen in the library became clear. The foam pieces assembled to become kid-sized hurdles and, since there weren't enough, hurdles were also made by sliding a stick between the handles of two jerry cans. The athleticism of the kids was unbelievable, especially since most of them didn't have the chance to train for any of these events! Living a life outside as a child certainly has its benefits.

Towards the end of the day, we moved to a different pitch, albeit still one without shade from the relentless sun. Many of my pupils from the school who weren’t participating had shown up once school had let out for the day. In the oppressive heat, they were practically salivating over the icees one entrepreneurial woman was selling out of a cooler under the shade of an umbrella. Two of my bolder girls, Gift and Lucky, came up to Kris and me to ask for money to buy icees. While Kris and I debated, all of my 40 pupils present slowly crept up around us, waiting for our decision. Even though we have been actively fighting against the image of Americans who come in and throw money everywhere, I was indecisive because it felt like such a universal moment to me, being a teacher at a sporting event, supporting and cheering on my pupils. Kris and I decided that since we felt like a part of the community now, and it was something we would do in the U.S. without thinking, that we would go ahead. Thrusting a 5,000 shilling note into a prefect’s hand, I instructed him to bring me back the change. The herd of kids sprinted away, swarming the poor saleswoman, and trickled back one by one to sit down next to us again, slurping away on their frozen treats. The prefect, Dan, carefully monitored the purchases to ensure that each child received only one icee. Once everyone had gotten their share, he brought the change back to me. I stared at the crumpled bills still remaining while my pupils chattered happily around me. The price to buy 40 children icees? About 75 cents.

Lined up on the raised edge of the pitch, our feet dangling, Kris, the kids, and I watched the next event. The javelin, shot put, and discus throw were clearly alien to most of the pupils. Patiently waiting in line for their turn, their names written on a piece of paper attached to a twig that would mark their farthest shot, they listened to their teachers explain how to use these colonial-area throwbacks. Laughter abounded as each kid tried as hard as they could to chuck each of them as far as possible.

The final events of the day were all about jumping. First up was a long jump in which the participants had to carefully follow a prescribed routine of steps and hops while approaching the sand pit. 

Still maintaining proper feminine decorum in a school uniform dress.

Then, the teachers set up a high jump and explained to the pupils how to properly jump and land. Seeing how the landing area was just a small pile of old hay, the kids were understandably reluctant to begin at first. To Kris and I, the setup looked less like something to be encouraged and more like something an American parent would freak out about finding their kids playing with in the backyard. However, Uganda is certainly not the land of helicopter parents! 

After a few repetitions of the teachers running up to the rope and demonstrating how to leap over it (without actually doing it themselves), one brave pupil stepped up. Once she successfully did not die, the rest of the children lined up eagerly and once again proved that they were up to any task – and that American parents are, on the majority, vastly overprotective.

That's my pupil, kicking butt in her pink dress!

It was a really fun, very different day and an experience both Kris and I were so glad to have shared with my pupils. Unfortunately, the experience also ended up burning the absentminded two of us to a crisp. (Sorry Moms!) In the staff room the next day, my teachers were shocked by my striped appearance, and even more appalled when I told them that my burns were from the sun. “The sun did this to you?!? You are so fragile!” 

It's already starting to tan here, but I was quite stripey for a few days!

When I actually think about the fact that the life-giving rays of the sun can cause me severe physical harm, it really is ridiculous. Right up there with invading aliens who are killed by water. Once my counterpart got over her shock, however, for the rest of the day she delighted in showing everyone how my red, burnt skin would turn white when she pressed down on it. Good times. 

Despite the resulting discoloration, this relaxed, fun, unique day made something in me click. Uganda is finally starting to feel like a home. Whether it’s rooting on my pupils, laughing with my teachers, being welcomed back by my neighbors after a long time away, or feeling the warm grass on my bare feet as I run a jerry can outside for the milkman to fill, I am starting to find a bit of that elusive sense of comfort.

"Home isn't a fixed place; it's an earned idea, a belonging, a growing sense of knowing where you are in relation to everyone else, and it's the knowledge of the truth that everything exists in relationship."

- South African immigrant to the U.S.

HIV/AIDS in Uganda

Last week I gave an HIV/AIDS Education Workshop at the primary school for the staff. It was something they had requested as they felt the need to educate their pupils more in this area. In fact, it’s actually an area I needed more education about before Peace Corps too. I watched Philadelphia in school, I knew some of the history of it in the U.S. (mostly thanks to Rent), I knew that HIV/AIDS was "bad in Africa" (and that’s probably one of the world’s most general statements ever), but I didn’t know much more than that. It seemed like a far-off, ancient problem - in my fairly sheltered American life, I had never even met anyone who had HIV or AIDS. Coming to Uganda, that all changed. Peace Corps provided me with the most thorough education on this subject that I had ever received, an education that seemed much more relevant and needed as I began to get to know more co-workers, students, and friends for whom HIV/AIDS had intimately, awfully, impacted their lives.

Uganda actually was considered a success story in sub-Saharan Africa when it came to HIV/AIDS, reducing the rate from up to 30% in the 1990s to 6.4% in 2006. Much of this has been credited to an extensive education program in the 90’s using the ABC approach: Abstinence, Be Faithful, Use Condoms. However, HIV prevalence has been on the rise again since 2006. Approximately one in 10 women now become HIV positive by their late 30s and for men, about one in 10 are infected by their early 40s. This is in part due to the government’s shift, somewhat under pressure from foreign countries like the U.S., towards abstinence-only programs during the 2000’s. Some health experts also blame the increasing rate of infection on “AIDS-fatigue,” a general complacency and reduction in safe sex that began once Uganda started to be lauded as a victor in the battle against HIV/AIDS.

Right now, 1.4 million people in Uganda are living with HIV, and, despite the nation’s early success in combating HIV/AIDS, there are 1.1 million children that have been orphaned by this epidemic. Many of my own pupils are part of this statistic. They live with extended family, adults who find it difficult to pay for their own children’s school fees, uniforms, and meals, not to mention doing the same for other young relatives, but nevertheless take them in.

Working to educate youth about HIV/AIDS is extremely important in Uganda, not only because HIV/AIDS is more prevalent here, but also because the median age is 15 (15!). With so many youth and so few adults, accurate facts and means of prevention can slip through the cracks and be replaced by rumors and misconceptions. HIV/AIDS and sex education are clearly urgently needed right now; only 39 percent of young people aged 15 to 24 know all the necessary facts about how HIV can be prevented. National prevention and treatment efforts also need to be supported, requiring a de-stigmatization of those living with HIV. Stigma and discrimination against people with HIV is still common in many rural areas, so even those who know their or their children’s positive status are reluctant to seek help for fear of “outing” themselves or their family members. The passage of the HIV and AIDS Prevention and Control Act in Uganda, which sanctions forced disclosure and criminalizes transmission, attempted transmission, and “behavior that might result in transmission,” is only continuing to add to this problem.

In Peace Corps, and at my school, Ugandans and PCVs are continuing the fight from the ground up, working with people who can help affect some of the most change: teachers. In fact, a quarter of the people who are living with HIV in Uganda right now are a part of the school system - students or staff. At the workshop last week, we refreshed the basics, talked about incorporating literacy into HIV/AIDS education, discussed how gender roles can affect the spread of HIV/AIDs, detailed how to care for people with HIV, and played a lot of games and activities that the teachers can do with their pupils. During the games and activities, such as Jeopardy, foot races, Big Books, and play-acting, we also did some myth-busting. And man, are there some wildly inaccurate myths out there (and probably in the States too, unfortunately): condoms cause cancer; virgins can’t have HIV; having sex with a virgin will cure you; when an HIV+ mother breastfeeds, the baby dies; HIV can be transmitted by mosquitoes; washing out with Coca-Cola after sex will prevent you from being infected; HIV can be passed by kissing; America has a secret cure for HIV/AIDS; America invented HIV/AIDS (oh, conspiracy theories!). 

The teachers got extremely competitive during the final Jeopardy review!

One of the pre-assessments, where the average score was 70; everyone scored 100 or 95 on the post-assessments.

Doing a "Can Transmit" and "Cannot Transmit" activities sort - it's not every day that you get to explain to your coworkers the definition of pre-ejaculate in English...

Overall, I like to think the workshop was a success – the pre- and post-assessments on HIV/AIDS I gave out showed drastic improvement, and the teachers were excited (and very competitive!) while practicing a variety of ways to educate their pupils on HIV prevention, treatment, and care. I’m looking forward to seeing the teachers use their new skills to give the kids an opportunity to play and learn at the same time. It is just a start, and a small one at that, but it's one I was proud to be asked to be a part of.

There is a saying in Tibetan, "Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength." No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that's our real disaster.

- Dalai Lama