So we are staying at a house for religious sisters called
Arua in Kampala, Uganda. Now only Sisters ares
supposed to stay here, yet one of the Sisters had booked Anne and I rooms here
with the rest of our Holy Cross family. Upon arrival at Arua none of our names
were on the list, but one of the Sisters we were with told the Arua worker
“can’t you we are all are Sisters?” The worker looked Anne and I up and down,
as I was wearing spandex Victoria's Secret Capri pants and Anne was in a tank
top with her bra straps showing. Beatrice was firm and repeated yes we are all
Holy Cross can’t you see their medals. (We were both wearing necklaces with a
variety of religious medals on them…none of which were the true Holy Cross
medal signifying a Sister.) Yet the worker had no chance to agree with Beatrice
as she handed over our room keys for the next few nights. Note to self I better
dress pretty conservatively the next few days as I am now Sister Megan. Oh by
the way in the room there was a sheet listing service fees for washing and one
of the options was to wash a habit. I guess I better go find one for myself to
wear, ha!
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Published!
Last year while searching for some music to listen to I saw
an ad on the KLOVE radio station about submitting a story about a miracle you
experienced. Immediately I thought of my experience at the 2013 Boston Marathon
in which the Boston
bombing happened. I have ran several marathons, but God was present with me that
day through a missal reading, a guardian angel who prayed over me before the
race, a rosary, and a Sister’s prayers for me. I had some time on my hands that
day and thought my story had a chance so I typed it up and submitted it. I soon
found out that my story was picked to be part of a book consisting of about
fifty miracle stories, and a few weeks ago the book was published! It is called
“It’s a God Thing” and can be found at Amazon.com. Please check it out and
spread the word!
Monday, January 13, 2014
Caribou Kenya!
First Stop: Kisii
After the ordination in Kampala
we boarded a night bus to Kissumu,
Kenya.
Unfortunately buses from Uganda
only travel at night to Kenya,
but in Kenya
night buses are not allowed. So we arrived at the Kenyan border in Busia at 3am
in pitch darkness and subsequently were awoken from our slumber, and told to
get off the bus. I was still half asleep and getting off a bus at 3am in Africa in silence was a bit creepy. It did not help that
a man with a huge rifle was guarding the immigration line. After walking across
what one passenger described as “no man’s land” we walked back to our bus where
we stayed until 5am when we could continue driving again. After arriving in
Kissumu we hopped on a matatu to Kisii where we connected with George and
Risper. I had met Risper at the ING Miami Half Marathon in 2012. We were both
running the race, and I started a conversation with her after the race (of
which she happened to be the winner) about Kenya and we were soon exchanging
contact information. Never could I have imagined that day that she would stay at my house for several days
between races, and I would be visiting her home in Kenya.
We spent three full days in Kissii and were welcomed by so
many of George and Risper’s friends and family. I could spend pages describing
our trip, but here are a few of the highlights….
-At Risper’s families house we shucked cobs of corn (took
the kernels off the cob with our fingers.)
Embarrassing to admit, but Anne and I both got blisters on our thumbs
after about fifteen minutes of work. Now keep in mind Risper’s sisters had
already shucked well over a hundred cobs before we arrived, and their skin was
still intact.
- Risper’s sister, Emily, taught Anne and I how to make
chapatti…in a grass thatched hut with an iron pan over a small flame
- Risper’s family served us goat meat for lunch. Meat is
served only on special occasions so I knew I had to finish all the meat. I like
goat, but the only problem was that Risper served me and when I looked at my
plate I found a mix of goat intestines and unrecognizable goat insides on my
plate. Oh God. Risper told me it was very tasty, but I was not convinced. Anne and I looked at
each other, and knew we had no choice but to eat it. I closed my eyes and
swallowed a hairy piece of meat and slimy white intestines. For the next hour
all I could think about was how I was going to get sick. Thank God Anne had
cipro.
-We ate like Kenyans. The first night we were given
silverware to eat our dinner with, but after that we used our “natural forks”
to eat ugali and greens, the staple foods of Kenya.
-The first night Anne and I were shown our room. It had a
bunk bed to sleep in, okay hakuna matata. I went to the bathroom and then back
to the room for bed, and found out that Risper and I would be sharing the small
lower bunk. It made me laugh, good thing we’re both small!
-I used the bathroom at Risper’s house, which was an outside
pit latrine consisting of wooden planks crisscrossed over the ground with one
small hole in the middle in which you do your business. Although I do not like
using these toilets this trip has given me choice but to accept them. This
time, however, I walked over to find a cow inside the latrine. Never have I had
to wait for a cow to finish going before I could pee!
-We stayed at George’s sister’s house on the second night.
She lives on a beautiful and spacious tea plantation, but we arrived late in
the evening when it was dark out so we were not able to get a view of the
surroundings. I asked Risper where the bathroom was and she brought me to the
side of the house. Thank god I only had to water the grass that night!
-The next morning I took a bucket shower in a community
shower outside. Risper boiled water for me to use.
- I went on a run that morning at the tea plantation. I was
planning on going by myself, but George’s brother accompanied me. Now I am used
to running hills in Uganda,
but there was a whole new meaning of hill at the plantation. I was gasping for
air after about five minutes of climbing. It did not help that during the run I
found out my running partner was a 2:14 marathoner whose main U.S. competition is Ryan Hall, the U.S. Olympic
marathoner.
Second Stop: Nairobi,
Kenya
Originally after visiting Kisii we were planning on going to
Sipi Falls,
but our Seminarian friends convinced us at the ordination that we should visit
them in Nairobi
instead. In Nairobi we visited Bomas, a cultural
dance show; went to theology classes with the seminarians at Tangaza College;
saw the Kibera sluma; and toured the Westlands and the Catholic University of
East Africa with Father Barasa. We did not hit
up many tourist spots in Nairobi,
rather the majority of our time there was spent talking, joking, and enjoying
our time with the Priests, Brothers, and Seminarians at McCauley House. Anne
even managed to get her hair cut by Richard, one of the Seminarians. He wanted
to use a razor to cut off her hair, but thankfully we discouraged him from doing
that. Instead he used a pair of blunt school scissors, and then a pair of
sharper kitchen scissors for a touch up the next day. It is hard to put into
words the love and friendship we felt from our Holy Cross family there. We do
not see these men very often yet I am so grateful for their hospitality and
laughs we shared together. (I think they also enjoyed having the presence of
two females in their house as usually it is only men.)
Stop Three: Dandora,
Kenya
We arrived in Dandora on Tuesday afternoon with plans to
return to Uganda
on Wednesday morning. However, plans changed. In Kisii, Nairobi, and Dandora we had been asked
several times to extend our trip. Anne and I were torn between wanting to stay
longer, yet knowing we needed to get back to work in Kyarusozi. After a bit of
convincing Father Luke and Father Andrew finally convinced us to change our bus
ticket. Only problem when we tried to call the bus company they did not pick
their phone. So early Wednesday morning we left to the bus park with our bags
packed unsure of whether we would be staying or leaving. After a bit of
negotiating and bribery with a cup of tea our ticket was changed!
This was my second time visiting the slums of Dandora, and
unfortunately the sanitation of the place has not changed nor has much hope of
changing. The town is full of trash and people have little respect or hope of
cleaning the environment. Despite this the Catholic community here is large and
the parish has many outreaches. Here are a few highlights…
-We attended two small Christian community masses at night
in community members homes. One of the homes we attended had no electricity so
the mass was lit up by one small candle. We sat on plastic chairs/stools in a
small cement hallway and water dripped down from a ceiling pipe during the
mass. Despite the location the mass was so vibrant, the singing was beautiful,
and you could really feel the presence of Christ. Afterwards a young couple
invited us upstairs to their small home where nine of us squeezed into a small
room (about the size of a half bathroom) to eat a meal of rice, greens, ugali,
and tea.
-Anne and I assisted at immunization day at the dispensary.
I thought our immunization outreaches in Kyembogo were busy, but Dandora has
just as many if not more babies attending with even fewer staff members
assisting. Despite this I was impressed by their staff knowledge, the
cleanliness of the clinic, and the friendliness of the staff. We made a lot of
new friends at the clinic and promised to be back soon.
-We visited Resurrection
Gardens, a prayer garden
and retreat house in Nairobi with Dennis
-I met Father Andrew again and learned he had not changed.
Although I do not drink after much peer pressure he was able to get me to take
some wine, and he created a game where every time he said cheers I had to
drink. Needless to say I will not be sitting next to him at dinner again, as he
said cheers about every three minutes, and then once I had finished my glass,
he would add more before I could stop him.
-I finally reconnected with one of the Banytereza sisters I
had met and stayed with in 2012. I had been hoping to get into contact with her
ever since I had returned to Uganda
in September. She stays in Dandora, and we were finally able to enjoy and
reminisce about the times we shared in 2012.
As I write this it has gotten dark…and we still have several
more hours of travel for the night. It has been two weeks now since Anne and I
have left Kyarusozi, and it is time to get back home. I will miss all the
friends and fun we had in Kenya,
but at the same time I am looking forward to getting back into our routine
again and giving a big hug to the Sisters, kids, coworkers, and our friends in Uganda.
Deaconate Ordination and Profession of Final Vows
This past weekend I traveled to Kampala for the final profession of vows
and deaconate ordination of six Holy Cross seminarians. The ceremony was beautiful
and it was nice to reunite with Holy Cross Sisters, Brothers, Priests, and
seminarians some of which I had not seen since 2009. The two days were full of
food, music, dancing, and greetings. Luckily the entire ceremony was in English
so I could understand the homily. The parents of the brothers played a big role
in the ceremony as they walked their son in and also gave a short speech one of
the days. The bishop presiding over the ceremony over thanked the parents and
said "that although there might not be visible tears on your faces, I know there
are tears inside. Thank you for raising such wonderful men." He also said that
those in the audience should produce more men and women so that we can have
more priests. One of the newly professed seminarians told his parents that if he was allowed only
one day for holiday he would visit his parents so he advised his parents not to
lament. The Bishop repeated to each seminarian during the ceremony that they were called by God and touched by the spirit. This whole experience made me
think of my sister, Molly, who will be joining the convent next week. My family
has had a hard time accepting her decision and all the rules her order has as
we are afraid we will lose our beloved sister. However, witnessing this ceremony made me realize that we are not losing her, rather her family is expanding as she responds to her call. 
 |
| Me and Sr. MarieJose reunited |
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Work Christmas Party
So this week I had an African dress made for Christmas by
Atwooki, a woman who makes school uniforms for Moreau Primary School.
Although I had never seen any of the dresses she had made one of the Sisters
told me that she could do a good job in a short time, and with one week till
Christmas I decided she would be my best chance of getting the dress made in
time. I had bought beautiful blue fabric with silver sequins all over it in
Fort Portal over the weekend and had an idea in mind of what I wanted, but
wasn’t quite sure what to call it or how exactly to explain it to her with her
limited English and my limited Rutorro. We met at the clinic and after she took
my measurements I handed the fabric over to her with plans to pick it up in a
few days.
The next day she called and told me I needed to get lining
for underneath the dress which was news to me, but okay. So with the help of
one of the clinic workers, Janiffer, she was able to walk around Kyarusozi town
with me searching for fabric. Unfortunately we did not find any, but she knew
someone going to town the next day who could pick some blue fabric up. Keep in
mind this woman had no idea what shade of blue I wanted, and when she came back
with a baby blue material I was a bit skeptical of what it would look like, but
Christmas was nearing and I figured this would be my best bet. So the next day
Atwooki’s daughter came to pick up the lining for sewing. On Friday Atwooki had
finished the dress, and it looked beautiful, only problem I had no idea how to
put it on. Our work Christmas party was about to begin and I had worn a red
skirt and red headband in preparation for the party. However, when Atwooki
started dressing me two of the clinic workers, Ciari and Enid, saw and came
into help dress me/wrap me up. Atwooki had even made a sparkling headband to
match the dress. Once the dress came on I realized I had to pee and keep in
mind the dress is like a wedding dress, where it is not easy to manage so off
it came. When I was finished Ciari insisted I wear the suka to the party so she
helped me put it back on again and off we went to the party room. Cleaphus one
of the lab workers grabbed my arm and we started stepping to the music.
Cleaphus is a goofy girl so I thought she was just being herself, however, soon
as I turned the corner I saw all the workers sitting along the walls and
clapping as we entered. I was not prepared for that or for the fact that they
sat me right center in the middle of the room like I was some special guest!
The party began with introductions, a magic trick, and a few speeches. Then we
played a game similar to hot potato where we passed around a bag that contained
a saying in it that the person with the bag when the music stopped had to
complete. For example, one worker had to jump for Jesus, Anne had to do a
dance, and another had to sing a song. The final paper said that the nursing
assistant, Goretti, had to name who in the room she thought was Ms. Christmas,
and she picked me…it must have been the dress. After the game we ate and
danced. Now I love the dress Atwooki made, but the only problem is that it is
not easy to manage; I really have to act “like a lady!” I am used to walking
fast, but now I have to take small steps, and the backside drapes over like a shawl
so I have to keep my arms tucked in at all times to keep it from falling off
(Ciari was my ‘husband’ during the day as she was the one sitting next to me
and was constantly fixing my dress and making sure it looked okay.) Today was a
festive day and it was nice to see all the workers eager to decorate their
respective rooms in the clinic and to see them dressed up so fancy for the
party.
Oh by the way, I have worn the dress a few times since the
party, and I still cannot figure out how to put it on. I think I am going to
need an African to come back with me to America.
Work Christmas Party
So this week I had an African dress made for Christmas by
Atwooki, a woman who makes school uniforms for Moreau Primary School.
Although I had never seen any of the dresses she had made one of the Sisters
told me that she could do a good job in a short time, and with one week till
Christmas I decided she would be my best chance of getting the dress made in
time. I had bought beautiful blue fabric with silver sequins all over it in
Fort Portal over the weekend and had an idea in mind of what I wanted, but
wasn’t quite sure what to call it or how exactly to explain it to her with her
limited English and my limited Rutorro. We met at the clinic and after she took
my measurements I handed the fabric over to her with plans to pick it up in a
few days.
The next day she called and told me I needed to get lining
for underneath the dress which was news to me, but okay. So with the help of
one of the clinic workers, Janiffer, she was able to walk around Kyarusozi town
with me searching for fabric. Unfortunately we did not find any, but she knew
someone going to town the next day who could pick some blue fabric up. Keep in
mind this woman had no idea what shade of blue I wanted, and when she came back
with a baby blue material I was a bit skeptical of what it would look like, but
Christmas was nearing and I figured this would be my best bet. So the next day
Atwooki’s daughter came to pick up the lining for sewing. On Friday Atwooki had
finished the dress, and it looked beautiful, only problem I had no idea how to
put it on. Our work Christmas party was about to begin and I had worn a red
skirt and red headband in preparation for the party. However, when Atwooki
started dressing me two of the clinic workers, Ciari and Enid, saw and came
into help dress me/wrap me up. Atwooki had even made a sparkling headband to
match the dress. Once the dress came on I realized I had to pee and keep in
mind the dress is like a wedding dress, where it is not easy to manage so off
it came. When I was finished Ciari insisted I wear the suka to the party so she
helped me put it back on again and off we went to the party room. Cleaphus one
of the lab workers grabbed my arm and we started stepping to the music.
Cleaphus is a goofy girl so I thought she was just being herself, however, soon
as I turned the corner I saw all the workers sitting along the walls and
clapping as we entered. I was not prepared for that or for the fact that they
sat me right center in the middle of the room like I was some special guest!
The party began with introductions, a magic trick, and a few speeches. Then we
played a game similar to hot potato where we passed around a bag that contained
a saying in it that the person with the bag when the music stopped had to
complete. For example, one worker had to jump for Jesus, Anne had to do a
dance, and another had to sing a song. The final paper said that the nursing
assistant, Goretti, had to name who in the room she thought was Ms. Christmas,
and she picked me…it must have been the dress. After the game we ate and
danced. Now I love the dress Atwooki made, but the only problem is that it is
not easy to manage; I really have to act “like a lady!” I am used to walking
fast, but now I have to take small steps, and the backside drapes over like a shawl
so I have to keep my arms tucked in at all times to keep it from falling off
(Ciari was my ‘husband’ during the day as she was the one sitting next to me
and was constantly fixing my dress and making sure it looked okay.) Today was a
festive day and it was nice to see all the workers eager to decorate their
respective rooms in the clinic and to see them dressed up so fancy for the
party.
Oh by the way, I have worn the dress a few times since the
party, and I still cannot figure out how to put it on. I think I am going to
need an African to come back with me to America.
Osuumwere!
So today I became a true African…with Christmas around the corner I did what many of the Ugandan women do here before the holidays, I got my hair plaited. I love the style and look of many of the African woman’s hair here, and am so intrigued by how it stays in place and always looks good. My hair is pretty thin and fine, and in America I would not call my hair all that “good,” as I would prefer it to be a bit thicker and fuller, plus I wish I had the expertise to make it look better then just having it in a pony tail everyday. However, many Ugandans here have looked at my hair and told me it is so nice and they wish they had it. Their hair is a lot coarser and does not grow very fast, and when I tell them I need a hair cut they often get a surprised look on their face and tell me not to cut it. One of the Sisters here gets her hair done quiet often and had shown me the saloon in the town market where she goes and promised to take me with her to get my hair plaited next time. So finally the day arrived, and in perfect time for the holidays. We woke up very early and left the house before seven to make the hour drive to town in order to be the first one in line for our hair. Now keep in mind saloons in America are nothing like those in the US. The room was about the size of a large half bathroom in the U.S. and had iron shields for a door. Wooden benches and plastic chairs were the seats for customers, there was a straight hot plate that was heated over fire to use as a hair straightener, kitchen shears were used to cut one’s hair, and there was no drape to put over oneself when getting one’s hair done. Additionally, there was no running water or a drain for dirty water so the workers carry a large jerry can back and forth to fill up their water, and a bucket on the ground collects water and supports the base of a sink. Nevertheless, the two hair stylists, Akiki and Atwooki, knew what they were doing. Atwooki was my main hair stylist and she did not know a word of English. Thank God for Katusabe who was able to tell her exactly what I wanted to get done to my hair. This was my first time to plait my hair and I had no idea what to expect. I did not know how it would look, if it would even stay in, and I was still a bit hesitant to combin my hair with artificial hair to make the twists. There was a mirror high up on the wall and my eyes were glued to it for several hours as I tried to figure out just how she was making the twists and to see how it looked. As she did the left side of my head though she had me positioned in a way that I could not see the mirror so I relied on Katusabe to give me feedback about how it was turning out. Now not many white people get their hair plaited and the saloon’s entrance faced a walkway that was very crowded due to the holidays so frequently people would glance in the saloon, see me, and then stop midwalk, laugh, and say in rutooro “mzungo’s getting her hair plaited.” They had quiet the laugh, but I laughed right along with them as I realized just how crazy this whole experience was. After both sides of my head were finished Atwooki had me bend over as she plaited the back of my head. Seven hours later my whole head was plaited and the back portion of my hair had been folded over and sewed into place with a needle. I looked in the mirror and could not stop staring, was this really me? Kahunde, my African name means decorated, I was now the real Kahunde. The seven hours were long, but they went by fast as many woman came in and I was able to see the different hair styles they got- curls, weaves, treatments, designs it was all so different from the U.S., but all their hair styles came out looking very nice. As I exited the saloon the other hair stylists and people getting their hair done all came out to peer at me, laugh, and call out osemwere- which means smart in Rutooro, and is a way of saying you look nice in the U.S. One person commented in Rutooro that the child (referring to me) has osumwere isooke- aka smart hair. I guess no matter what country I am in people still think I look young. Now as we were about to leave Katusabe explained to me the terms and conditions of my hair- no getting it wet (aka no more showers as I know it,) I must wear a head scarf if I am to be outside running due to the dust, and I can use a head scarf to help me sleep. So soon as I got home I went for a run before dinner with a bandanna over my head, and just my luck it started to rain when I was about a mile away from home. It is dry season and has not rained in over a week yet it decided to rain the day I got my hair done. Terrified that my new head would be ruined within 2 hours of plaiting I sprinted home as fast as I could, and I luckily made it in time. It is so nice waking up each morning and knowing you don’t have to comb it or do anything to it. Now if I could just get used to the no washing aspect…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)