After landing at Entebbe Airport, I was retrieved by my mentor, Professor Parry, a long-time dual resident of the country and a guiding light for literacy circulation in underserved East Africa. We traveled 30 miles from the capital to Kiryagonja, a village of a few hundred people off the only road heading north. Besides walking, the only alternative means of transportation in this village is on the back of a motorbike, known locally as a boda-boda. Victor, my first Ugandan friend, zoomed my jetlagged bones down the dirt road to my host family’s compound.
My Ugandan family: Mama Rose, Emmanuel, Erich, Elvis, their foster children Robert and John, and the patriarch, Vincent, who established a primary school on his property. Their house, one of the nicest in Kiryagonja, was commonly without running water and had only intermittent electricity. I was forced to become accustomed quickly. The younger boy, Elvis (age 3), stared at me quizzically. He had never seen a non-Ugandan before, I was told. Emmanuel (Emma), 19, a handsome and collected young man, was to become my best friend and trusted companion that month. Mama Rose served me a plate of starch to put me right to bed: beans, rice, and matooke (mashed bananas), all grown in the beautiful lush backyard garden.
My assigned objective was to implement a new library in the school and observe the children’s process learning the system. But I had to keep this covert while, in real time, I taught them their daily studies. Imagine the reaction of the kids when I first walked in, so adorable and eyes full of anticipation. As the weeks passed, we progressed together. By 3 p.m. every day, I was wiped out.
Stuart, 7, became the center of my heart throughout my time there. He was struggling with his studies in a school system that forced children — if their parents were lucky enough to afford the tuition — to advance with their age group, even if they were behind in their skills. Every day after school, I sat Stuart down for one-on-one learning, and I discovered that the greatest triumph in teaching is the moment when you lead your student to a place of confidence. I’ll never forget the first time he solved a subtraction problem on his own — the look of joy in his face.
I took a day off so Emmanuel could lead the way to the bustling capital city. Crammed into a shared taxi van with 10 other Ugandans, we zoomed along at breakneck speed until we reached the city’s taxi park, where hundreds of drivers and merchants’ voices hollered on top of each other. Kampala is one giant marketplace. You can walk around all day and soak in its fast-paced exoticism, stop for a chapati or a Bell (Uganda’s beer label), or do what I did: flag a boda-boda and ask to be driven around. Make sure to pay the driver handsomely for this. I bought lots of souvenirs in Kampala!
The kids became so accustomed to me after a few weeks, it was time to mix it up a bit. A special memory: getting caught in a flash rain/lightning storm with the boys. Weather is no joke in Central Africa, and finding shelter in the instrument room of the schoolhouse was a relief. What commenced was an hour of conga-beating, tambourine-shaking, and dancing while the sky raged outside. Those kids were talented musicians.
A rough Dewey decimal system was integrated into the library, which consisted of 80 books in two cardboard boxes. Soon enough, not just the kids, but their parents were loaning and returning books. In a country with a literacy rate of 66 percent, books can be a rare commodity. I had to literally knock on some doors to keep the library going — all part of the community growing process. Also, a fun project: I provided the kids with disposable cameras and instructed them to take photos of their daily lives. When I developed the film, we worked together to caption them with appropriate descriptions. I had the books published and sent back. The library now holds eight mini-autobiographies written by the village’s brilliant young authors.
Time to go off on a different African adventure. There were tears as I walked away after a month of teaching, but amazing memories to keep. I checked into a great backpacker hostel on the outskirts of Kampala (http://www.backpackers.co.ug/) in order to schmooze with the foreigners a bit. I made some great friends: Willi and Terese from Denmark, Ailsa from Scotland and Freddie, the smiling Ugandan receptionist. Together, we experienced Kampala nightlife at a pulsating dance club and partied ’til morning. I passed out joyfully in my open-air, mosquito-netted bed.
Mandatory for sub-Saharan travelers, you just gotta do a safari! We took a ride way north to the border of the Congo with a carfull of international travelers. Murchison Falls National Park — words cannot express! We woke up at 6 a.m. for a game drive. In open-top jeeps, we crawled along the open savannah and saw lions, wild boars and giraffes within 20 paces of us. At one tense moment, we were surrounded by elephants. The next day was a boat trip up the Nile to the waterfall. Crocs and hippos abounded! An excursion into the woods to see chimps swinging from trees topped off the three-day adventure.
The last night of my trip required some decompressing. I booked a room at a charming hotel on the beach of Africa’s largest body of water, Lake Victoria. A few glasses of wine at a beach-side table, a cool breeze, a great experience — I drank a toast.
