Earlier this week I got the chance to be out at Lukodi again. Those of you who have been following know that this place has become my safe haven and favorite place to be. When I want to be reminded of the good that is being accomplished here (by all of the people who are working so hard to make change) I take a trip to Lukodi. Mama D'Andrea and Lowna have been amazingly kind and all of the staff have been more than welcoming.
Usually, I spend my time at Lukodi surrounded by children. This is for many reasons. First of all, I'm painfully shy. A lot of the women are pretty shy too. This makes a no-win situation compounded by a language barrier. All in all, it's easier to build a relationship with children (especially since our language skills are roughly the same) so I've been doing a lot of that. The women know me because they know I play with their kids, but we've never crossed the relationship border. Until this time.
Long story short, Winnie (counselor) was teaching the girls how to crochet under the mango tree outside. I had little Malika on my lap, definitely falling asleep. Matron and Winnie taught me some lullabies, which absolutely put the little girl under a trance and off she went to sleepy-town.
After I put her down on the straw mat, I asked Winnie what the girls were making.
"Seat covers." She said. "You know how to do this?"
"Barely." I responded.
Next thing I knew, I was handed a skein of army green yarn and a teeny tiny crochet hook and I was attempting to start a Granny Square (a very basic stitch and the only one I'd had the patience to learn when my mother was trying to teach me how to crochet at the age of eight).
I worked on it all day and into the night (although none of us could figure out why I'd been given the task, I was happy to have something to do). Then the coolest thing happened...as I progressed, the women began walking up to me and grabbing my square, comparing it, and smiling at me.
"Ber!" they'd say ("good!")
"Apwoyo Matek!" I'd respond. It wasn't much of a conversation, but it was something.
I spent the afternoon and evening surrounded by the women, all of us working on our crochet, and periodically having mine examined by a woman holding an intricate doily pattern and feeling like a schlub for having no crochet expertise. As the sun disappeared and the darkness began to make it impossible to see, Kirsten asked Rheme where she learned to do crochet, which she was doing quite well.
"My mother taught me." she smiled.
This is where I need to pause and explain that from the first trip that I've made to Lukodi, Rheme has been the one woman I really wanted to talk to. Whenever the girls were doing music or practicing their skit for the Day of the African Child she was always one of the most animated and definitely one of the funniest to talk to. She was constantly cutting up in English and in Luo and causing the group to bust into fits of laughter. On Sundays she's one of the most active dancers and singers. But, if you tried to talk to her she'd clam up out of shy-ness. Rheme was one of the women who walked up to me earlier in the day and after a thorough examination of my work just gave me a nod and walked off. To get four words from her made me feel like I'd won the relationship lottery. I floated to bed that night.
The next morning, at the break of dawn, I followed Lowna out to the side road behind the compound where she was planning to take a run. I was positive I wouldn't be able to keep up, but since I'd brought my inhaler with me to the compound I decided it was safe to push it. And push it I did, knocking one more thing off of my bucket list ("go for a run in Uganda"). The sun came up through a really heavy mist that morning and just hung like a giant red ball on the Eastern horizon. We passed men and women working on patches of farm land, past hundreds of feet of grass that was taller than we were. At one point I ran into a flock of chickens and they thought I was chasing them so they ran ahead of me in the road. Suddenly I have a new found respect for people who can actually catch one of those things for dinner...
I made it about twenty minutes before I had to stop, walk, and have the conversation with my lungs that went something like, "You are lungs. Your job is to breathe. In. And. Out." Still, it was a beautiful morning to attempt a run.
I'm still not sure where the hours go when I am at Lukodi. Somehow it was immediately after lunchtime and I was sitting with pastor by the rabbit hutch out back. We were having a debate over whether or not rabbits were food. I claimed that they were pets. He laughed, "What a waste of meat!" We were still going on when Lily came up, curtsied before Pastor, and said something quietly in Luo while pointing to me.
"This lady has a request." he said, "That you would start her a project like yours. She says she can do it, but she can't start it."
"Of course!" I said, hoping that I'd do a better job of starting hers than I had of starting mine...which looked a little like a giant puffball in the middle.
About twenty minutes later I went to find Lily under the mango tree, where she was doing another woman's hair. She thanked me as another woman came up and started speaking to me in Luo as if I understood. I gave her a confused look and she started to laugh. Then she held up Lily's pattern and pointed to me.
"Yes. I did that." I said.
"Ber." She said. Then she pointed to herself then pointed to me.
"You want me to do yours too?" I asked.
She nodded. I agreed. She lit off towards the dorms to grab hers. What she came back with was a gorgeous flowered pattern that I couldn't have done with a million years and practice. "REC!" she said ("bad") holding it up. Pointing to mine she nodded, "Ber." ("good."). I laughed.
"NO! I said, "Yours is ber. Mine is rec!" but I helped her unwind her pattern and started her a granny square. I was completely confused, but going with it, just glad that the girls were talking to me (even if we were barely understanding each other).
"No, I'm helping the others and I seem to have lost my needle. Do you think you could finish it for me Rheme?"
"Yes. I can finish." She grabbed it and went over to her seat. Later I went over and we were talking again. "Why can't you finish?" she asked.
"I don't have time. I have to go." I said.
"You are going to town?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Good. And you will be back when?" She asked.
I was a little bowled over. I hadn't really planned to be back to Lukodi again, figuring that the center had already more than accommodated me during this stay. But the relationship that I was getting with the girls had taken me the entire time I'd been here and several trips to the compound to actually get started. I decided I was going to have to come back for a day trip. I told Rheme that.
All too soon the trip was over (again) and the CVI van was fired up to head back to town. Richard (the driver) gave me exactly two minutes to hug everyone goodbye and then we were back on the road.
The next day, Lowna and Denise came to town and the three of us enjoyed lunch together. Lowna was headed down to Kampala, so it was going to be her last chance to see us before we left. Lowna is a wonderful person and has been not only sweet but has humored my persistent requests to spend time in Lukodi, graciously giving me her bed. The trouble with making friends in foreign places is that at some point everyone goes home. We all agreed though -- this is a perfect excuse for Denise and I to go to South Africa at some point (and with Denise headed to Oxford, we have a perfect excuse to go to England too!).
Lowna left us at Lucy's (the tailor) where Denise and I had made the decision to have dresses made. I found the coolest green fabric that has a picture of Africa on it, and Denise chose a yellow/maroon flowered pattern. We drew pictures of what we were looking for, and Lucy took measurements. She's going to get them back to us on Monday afternoon and she only charged us 27,000 UGX ($13.00 USD). The most awesome part of all of this was when Lucy went to measure Denise. She was writing down her numbers and she said, "Your stomach is somehow missing..."
"I told her we need to feed her more! She's too skinny!" I said.
All of the girls in the shop agreed. We were laughing about that for a long while after.
At this point, we're mostly just wrapping up and saying goodbye. This afternoon what's left of the Carolina crew is headed to CTC to do lunch with Fr. Joseph before we go. Tonight we're treating Blake to Sancofa pizza, since he's getting on the plane tomorrow to leave. Denise and I are going to catch a postal bus on Tuesday or Wednesday down to Kampala. Then we'll catch our plane on Friday evening. My head is still spinning...I almost wish I had another week or two. But then again...I was dreaming about Chipotle, sour cream, and colby jack cheese last night. It's time.
Long story short, Winnie (counselor) was teaching the girls how to crochet under the mango tree outside. I had little Malika on my lap, definitely falling asleep. Matron and Winnie taught me some lullabies, which absolutely put the little girl under a trance and off she went to sleepy-town.
Cutest Kid Ever.
Loves to Mimic Me Saying Her Name..."Ma-liiiiikaaaa!"
(imagine it with a false exhasperated sigh coming from an under-fiver)
After I put her down on the straw mat, I asked Winnie what the girls were making.
"Seat covers." She said. "You know how to do this?"
"Barely." I responded.
Next thing I knew, I was handed a skein of army green yarn and a teeny tiny crochet hook and I was attempting to start a Granny Square (a very basic stitch and the only one I'd had the patience to learn when my mother was trying to teach me how to crochet at the age of eight).
I worked on it all day and into the night (although none of us could figure out why I'd been given the task, I was happy to have something to do). Then the coolest thing happened...as I progressed, the women began walking up to me and grabbing my square, comparing it, and smiling at me.
"Ber!" they'd say ("good!")
"Apwoyo Matek!" I'd respond. It wasn't much of a conversation, but it was something.
I spent the afternoon and evening surrounded by the women, all of us working on our crochet, and periodically having mine examined by a woman holding an intricate doily pattern and feeling like a schlub for having no crochet expertise. As the sun disappeared and the darkness began to make it impossible to see, Kirsten asked Rheme where she learned to do crochet, which she was doing quite well.
"My mother taught me." she smiled.
This is where I need to pause and explain that from the first trip that I've made to Lukodi, Rheme has been the one woman I really wanted to talk to. Whenever the girls were doing music or practicing their skit for the Day of the African Child she was always one of the most animated and definitely one of the funniest to talk to. She was constantly cutting up in English and in Luo and causing the group to bust into fits of laughter. On Sundays she's one of the most active dancers and singers. But, if you tried to talk to her she'd clam up out of shy-ness. Rheme was one of the women who walked up to me earlier in the day and after a thorough examination of my work just gave me a nod and walked off. To get four words from her made me feel like I'd won the relationship lottery. I floated to bed that night.
The next morning, at the break of dawn, I followed Lowna out to the side road behind the compound where she was planning to take a run. I was positive I wouldn't be able to keep up, but since I'd brought my inhaler with me to the compound I decided it was safe to push it. And push it I did, knocking one more thing off of my bucket list ("go for a run in Uganda"). The sun came up through a really heavy mist that morning and just hung like a giant red ball on the Eastern horizon. We passed men and women working on patches of farm land, past hundreds of feet of grass that was taller than we were. At one point I ran into a flock of chickens and they thought I was chasing them so they ran ahead of me in the road. Suddenly I have a new found respect for people who can actually catch one of those things for dinner...
I made it about twenty minutes before I had to stop, walk, and have the conversation with my lungs that went something like, "You are lungs. Your job is to breathe. In. And. Out." Still, it was a beautiful morning to attempt a run.
I'm still not sure where the hours go when I am at Lukodi. Somehow it was immediately after lunchtime and I was sitting with pastor by the rabbit hutch out back. We were having a debate over whether or not rabbits were food. I claimed that they were pets. He laughed, "What a waste of meat!" We were still going on when Lily came up, curtsied before Pastor, and said something quietly in Luo while pointing to me.
"This lady has a request." he said, "That you would start her a project like yours. She says she can do it, but she can't start it."
"Of course!" I said, hoping that I'd do a better job of starting hers than I had of starting mine...which looked a little like a giant puffball in the middle.
About twenty minutes later I went to find Lily under the mango tree, where she was doing another woman's hair. She thanked me as another woman came up and started speaking to me in Luo as if I understood. I gave her a confused look and she started to laugh. Then she held up Lily's pattern and pointed to me.
"Yes. I did that." I said.
"Ber." She said. Then she pointed to herself then pointed to me.
"You want me to do yours too?" I asked.
She nodded. I agreed. She lit off towards the dorms to grab hers. What she came back with was a gorgeous flowered pattern that I couldn't have done with a million years and practice. "REC!" she said ("bad") holding it up. Pointing to mine she nodded, "Ber." ("good."). I laughed.
"NO! I said, "Yours is ber. Mine is rec!" but I helped her unwind her pattern and started her a granny square. I was completely confused, but going with it, just glad that the girls were talking to me (even if we were barely understanding each other).
Me and Rheme.
I asked if I could take her picture and she said, "Take a picture of you and me!"
This is when Rheme came up to me, "You are finished?" she asked."No, I'm helping the others and I seem to have lost my needle. Do you think you could finish it for me Rheme?"
"Yes. I can finish." She grabbed it and went over to her seat. Later I went over and we were talking again. "Why can't you finish?" she asked.
"I don't have time. I have to go." I said.
"You are going to town?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Good. And you will be back when?" She asked.
I was a little bowled over. I hadn't really planned to be back to Lukodi again, figuring that the center had already more than accommodated me during this stay. But the relationship that I was getting with the girls had taken me the entire time I'd been here and several trips to the compound to actually get started. I decided I was going to have to come back for a day trip. I told Rheme that.
All too soon the trip was over (again) and the CVI van was fired up to head back to town. Richard (the driver) gave me exactly two minutes to hug everyone goodbye and then we were back on the road.
The next day, Lowna and Denise came to town and the three of us enjoyed lunch together. Lowna was headed down to Kampala, so it was going to be her last chance to see us before we left. Lowna is a wonderful person and has been not only sweet but has humored my persistent requests to spend time in Lukodi, graciously giving me her bed. The trouble with making friends in foreign places is that at some point everyone goes home. We all agreed though -- this is a perfect excuse for Denise and I to go to South Africa at some point (and with Denise headed to Oxford, we have a perfect excuse to go to England too!).
Denise Being Measured.
Lowna left us at Lucy's (the tailor) where Denise and I had made the decision to have dresses made. I found the coolest green fabric that has a picture of Africa on it, and Denise chose a yellow/maroon flowered pattern. We drew pictures of what we were looking for, and Lucy took measurements. She's going to get them back to us on Monday afternoon and she only charged us 27,000 UGX ($13.00 USD). The most awesome part of all of this was when Lucy went to measure Denise. She was writing down her numbers and she said, "Your stomach is somehow missing..."
"I told her we need to feed her more! She's too skinny!" I said.
All of the girls in the shop agreed. We were laughing about that for a long while after.
At this point, we're mostly just wrapping up and saying goodbye. This afternoon what's left of the Carolina crew is headed to CTC to do lunch with Fr. Joseph before we go. Tonight we're treating Blake to Sancofa pizza, since he's getting on the plane tomorrow to leave. Denise and I are going to catch a postal bus on Tuesday or Wednesday down to Kampala. Then we'll catch our plane on Friday evening. My head is still spinning...I almost wish I had another week or two. But then again...I was dreaming about Chipotle, sour cream, and colby jack cheese last night. It's time.
I got a great email from the stateside coordinator for ChildVoice. How cool. Sounds like you have made use of every single minute. Of course, I cried, just thinking about teaching you to crochet. Miss those days.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your time...