Categories

Here everything that we do is divided into Mzungu and African. Our driver and the caretaker of our guesthouse comment about our different habits and the categories they fall under. My cooking has elicited the comment: “Mzungu cooking is so strange.” But since I save the leftovers, I am “very African.” It is funny to hear something you do at home called “African,” but I think it is because generally westerners are (accurately) viewed as so wasteful. We had chicken yesterday, and the difference between my piece which had skin, fat, and tough pieces left on it, and the stripped to the bone piece of our African driver’s was striking. I felt bad, but it was not enough to induce me to eat chicken skin. I had already choked, and I mean choked, down some liver to be polite.

We have been trying to learn some new things, although we progress slowly. I have learned to make passion fruit juice, eat bananas (small and large) almost constantly, to prepare food without a microwave or toaster oven (easy since I do this at home) and reheat it (not so much), pour milk from a bag, estimate instead of measuring (instructions on Omo wash powder: pour one handful in basin), and wash our clothes by hand.

I am going to learn to cut a papaya (popo) today, and hope to progress to learning some real dishes soon. We have loved many of the things that we have tried so far. I am a huge fan of African style chips, and we love samosas and chapatti. The produce here is incredible. The pineapple is so sweet, and the avocados are huge and so fresh. I have even experimented with African greens.

We are having a fantastic time here. Uganda is a beautiful place. The terrain is very different around Kampala, more green and tropical, than it is in the west which is grassy. There are hills, and planes, and lakes everywhere, and many interesting animals, birds, and lizards. We have had wonderful experiences with people here, and are looking forward to the rest of our stay. The only things I could do without are the smog in the city, as there are no emission regulations here, the loud music at night, and the Muslim call to prayer. I don’t mind the evening call whatsoever, but the one in the morning, around 5 or 5:30 is really unpleasant. Maybe over time people learn to sleep through it, but when you are not used to it it wakes you up and it is very loud and very long. Being woken up at that hour everyday makes you really question the merits of freedom of religious expression.

Some other random things that are awesome here include the cell phone system, which is pay as you go, very cheap, and easy to use. Everyone seems to have a cell phone. You simply purchase minutes as you need them, and they are available everywhere. You can either buy them in the stores, or as you are driving around the city people weave in and out of the traffic selling minutes (and other things too). Also, medical care here is cheap. Tommy’s doctor visit, lab test, and medicine cost about 27 USD, the wait was not too long, and we didn’t have to have an appointment in advance. The doctors here are typically trained in Europe or the US, and I thought the one we saw was very good.

It is also hard to see so much poverty, although I have found that much of what I consider poor many of the people here do not see as a particular hardship. Our facilitator Linda told us that she prefers to live cheap than to have the many amenities, which are easily available in Kampala for a price, that we consider necessities. Apparently it is possible to be happy without a television, or a washer and dryer, and using a latrine is not the end of the world. Who knew?

There are many really sad things that are not just cultural differences: the stick-thin children with bellies bloated from parasites, the slums, the people who die from dirty water and malaria (Tommy has been treated for malaria twice), and the millions of orphans, many of whom would not be orphans if people had access to food, clean water, and medical treatment.

Pictures

Hi Everyone,
We know you want to see pictures, but we are not allowed to post any of Tommy until he is ours. The internet is really slow here, so posting any pictures would be difficult anyway. We will absolutely spend the time to post a picture of Tommy as soon as we can.

Please Come Again

We are so sorry that it has been so long since our last post. We do not have access to the internet, and we have had a very CRAZY few days.

We had our court date, and it turned out as we had expected but not as we had hoped: the judge asked us to bring in some more paperwork for a new hearing next week. There was a problem with one of Tommy's documents, and he wanted it to be fixed before he would hear our case. It was intimidating to be in court, even though it is only in chambers, not in front of the full court. Tommy did not exactly behave. He screamed almost the entire time, and threw his sippy cup, which spilt all over the floor. I was surprised he acted up because Sister (the woman who cared for him at the orphanage) was there with us, and he loves to be with her. He has been otherwise fairly well behaved, so the judge just got a special show. Our hearing will resume on Wednesday, July 8.

After the hearing we met with Isaac to learn what new paperwork we needed. Sister Christine was going to have to go back to Ibanda to get the signature sealed by the district Magistrate. Since we wanted to go to Ibanda anyway to see Tommy's home, we decided to go with her. It was probably about 10:30 at that point, and we had to hit the road quickly, because it is unsafe to travel in the western part of the country after dark due to ambushes. We dropped Sister off at the convent where she stays while in Kampala, went back to our guest house and packed our stuff really quickly, then picked Sister up and headed for Ibanda.

The road is nice for the first few hours, but after a while it becomes very potholed, if it is paved at all. There are parts where the paving is so worn down on either side that you essentially have to drive down the middle of the road. Some of the potholes are the size of a bathtub, so you have to doge those too. There is only one lane on either side (although lanes in Uganda general are more like suggestions), and many hills and some turns. Did I mention that we don’t have a car seat? It was one wild and nerve-wracking ride. We stopped at the equator for a picture, then at a roadside stand to buy sweet potatoes for the babies to eat for the next few days, and then in Mbarara (which is the area that Tommy is actually from). We ate dinner at a bakery there: cheese pies, pizza, sausage rolls, samosas, sodas, and pastries- we fed the five of us for about 8 USD. Any food that is not "American" is very cheap here. And the soda is incredibly good because they use real sugar. I never drink soda in the US because I don’t really like it, but I am happy to have a Krest Bitter Lemon here.

We got to Ibanda after dark, so we were a little nervous for the last leg of the Journey, although both Sister and our driver Eddie were confident that the road from Mbarara to Ibanda was safe. We stayed at a hotel in Ibanda. It was an interesting experience. We pulled up, and Sister went in to acquire our accommodations. Then she asked Jeff to come inside. She brought him into the hotel lobby, where many people were gathered watching TV and playing video games and brought him up to a man in the far corner of the room, and said to Jeff, "I'll introduce you to the mayor of this town and the owner." The she said to the Mayor, "This man is here to foster one of the children, can he stay here?" He looked at Jeff and said “You are welcome,” then he asked Sister: "Is he alone?" And Sister assured him that Jeff had a wife and that the baby was with us. He agreed.

So, we got to stay in the Mayor's hotel for the night. We got up early for breakfast because Tommy had not eaten much the night before and was hungry. We were the first ones out, so we got a lovely seat on the patio overlooking the gardens. We started eating, and this man came and sat at the table next to us. He began to talk to us and ask us questions about Tommy and our jobs, and how we would raise him to be a Ugandan American instead of a black American (examples given by Eddie: Michael Jackson or Oprah). I had a hard time understanding his accent, so he let me know my English was very poor. I agreed. After he left, Jeff turns to me and tells me that I had been speaking with the Mayor! I felt so embarrassed because here officials are called special names and such, and we hadn’t paid him the proper respect. I was so worried that I talked to Sister about it, but she assured me it was fine because he is a supporter of the babies home.

In the morning Jeff and Sister met with the probation officer of Tommy’s district and had her correct some of the paperwork and also had her get the paperwork to make us Tommy's official foster parents according to his district (it has to be confirmed by the country for us to get a visa). Then all the papers had to be taken to the Magistrate for a signature and his special seal. He was in court this morning, but Sister has a way of getting things done, and he agreed to sign while he listened to court proceedings. While we were waiting for all of this we played in the car and on the streets of Ibanda. We got lots of strange looks. Everyone stares at you because you are white, and then they stare even more because you have a black baby. Most people are very friendly and say hello to you and welcome you, and some ask you questions about where you are from. After a while it can get a bit overwhelming.
When Sister finished with the Magistrate we went to the Babies Home. We got there after lunch so almost all of the children were sleeping. I was relieved. It is heartbreaking to see all of the children who don’t have homes. There was one group of older little boys, who were about three, who were still awake and taking their showers. When we came by they ran up and hugged us and stared at us with their eyes begging to be picked up. We saw Tommy’s bed (now empty), the place where he ate, showered, was changed, and played. We got to meet the Sisters who run the orphanage and many of the staff. The sisters fed us an Ugandan lunch, and we took pictures with everyone and left.

The people who work there love the children so much. It was so obvious in the way they fawned over Tommy (whom they call Baby Jesus- long story). The orphanage has very little money, because Ibanda is very far from the main cities, so very few families will adopt from there because it means some rough travel (although seriously, if I can handle it, anyone can). Most orphanages are supported by families who have adopted from them. Orphanages that are outside of areas where families prefer to travel have a much harder time finding support for feeding the children and maintaining facilities. Also, without families fostering, they tend to have more children coming in then they have leaving to join families. They care for all the children as long as they are able. Even though they are only supposed to keep the children until they turn three, the nuns keep them until they can find a new place for them to go. The home relies on donations, and although they get support from the local community, the facilities are very crowded right now and there is simply not enough money to adequately feed the children and pay the workers. One bright spot for this home is that a Parish in Pennsylvania has befriended them, and has been sending groups of people over and helping with improvements. It is actually through the mission work of this group that we ended up being connected with this home and with Tommy.

Our journey home was rather uneventful, with the exception of a major diaper explosion, which had to be taken care of on the side of the road. When we pulled over in this little "trading center" everyone who was there gathered around our car and watched me change Tommy's diaper. It was very odd to have such a large group of people just standing there watching me change him. They must have thought we were quite a strange sight to see.

We also stopped in Masaka for some minced meat Samosas, and at another trading center for milk (Jeff and I were not allowed to leave the car at that one) and another for vegetables. I bought a ton of things I did not need from all the children selling produce. They just look so pitiful with the baskets of fruit and veggies on their heads. I know I probably overpaid, and that looking sad is how they get Mzungus to feel sorry for them and overspend, but I really did not care. Even paying Mzungu rates (usually twice the African rate) I still paid less than I would in Kampala and those kids looked hungry and they had no clothes. Now I have more bananas than anyone could every possibly want.

Although the trip was very last minute and hectic, it was truly a blessing to spend ten hours in the car with Sister Christine. She loves Tommy so much, and he her, that it was good for them to have more time together. Also, she was able to tell us so much about him, and I was able to tape her telling his story and singing him some of his favorite songs. I know he will treasure those memories as he grows up. In regards to the details of Tommy’s story- it is something we plan on keeping private until Tommy decides he wants to share it. He has lived at the orphanage all of his life, and he has no known living relatives.

Tommy is having stomach issues. He has been diagnosed with Giardia, and is undergoing treatment. It will probably be some time before things get any better. Otherwise he is doing really well. He has a very strong attachment to Sister Christine, so it has been hard for him to leave her and be with us, but he is adapting. He is eating well, he loves to be cuddled and held, and he is enjoying all of his new toys. He speaks a number of words, mostly in his native dialect, which we are learning to recognize, and a few words in English. He is crawling like crazy, and likes to walk while holding onto furniture. He is a blessing to us, and we are so thankful that God has brought us together.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

The following post was written early Tuesday afternoon. We have retained its temporal reference frame.

Right now Jeff and I are waiting for Tommy to come to our guest house. Our lawyer and our facilitator are on their way as I write. I am so excited and a little nervous about whether or not we are going to totally freak him out. It has to have been a traumatic couple of days for the little guy. Being taken from the only home you have every known to a big city, cared for by an adoption facilitator, meeting new people, etc. He must be pretty overwhelmed.

I think we are ready for him. Last night we set up our room as best we could. Got out clothes, washed his cups and dishes, and arranged his books and toys. We enjoyed a slow and restful morning. It is really beautiful here, and the green hills, red roofs, blue sky, and temperate climate make us feel right at home.

This morning we went and got food and water so we wouldn't have any more errands to run. First we went to Barclays, the bank, to exchange our money into Ugandan shillings. It was very confusing to us to deal with the money, but we got it sorted out eventually. We also bought petrol for a ridiculously high price. We paid over $50 for only 46 liters. We are the only people using the car this week, so it made sense for us to fill it up so we don’t have to stop for fuel every day. We went to two outdoor markets and the Super Supermarket. At the first market we got avocados, bananas, onions, peppers, carrots, green beans, greens, passion fruit, potatoes, cooking oil, and a phone card. We loaded up on cheese, milk, yogurt, cereal, sauces, meats, bread, and detergent at the Super Supermarket, and then went to another market for Chapati (like a thick tortilla) and some beans. Our driver Eddie and our guide David helped us negotiate and taught us what fair prices were. I'm sure we still paid extra, but it was all very cheap (for example, I got three huge avocados for 1,000 shillings, or 50 cents), at least at the outdoor markets. The American things, like Cherrios, at the Super Supermarket were very expensive. We tried not to buy too many of those things, but we just can’t imagine life without cheese. We are imagining life without ice cream however, since it is eleven dollars a tub!
The outdoor markets are really interesting. People say funny things to you (Hello Mzu), and ask you to talk to them, tell you that you should buy from them. We spread out our shopping among a few different stalls, so we talked to many different people. The markets are set up with a few shops in front inside a building with open-air storefronts that close up like a garage door, and in the back you find open air stalls. Everything is on red dirt, quite rutted, and there are various drainage ditches, often uncovered or partially covered with wood that you have to carefully avoid as you walk. The ground is hilly and uneven. We experienced some rain at the first market. It comes down quickly and hard, so we got very splattered with the red mud. There are live animals at the market, and freshly slaughtered meat, and whole dried fishes. It costs $4.00 to buy a live chicken, but we didn't because I do not want to kill and pluck it when I can buy it clean and in fillets at the Super Supermarket.

After we finished at the markets we came back to the guest house and I made an interesting Mexican-Ugandan lunch. I made quesadillas using Chapatis, and put sautéed onions and peppers inside. I made guacamole with the avocado and garlic, and we had purchased green chili sauce from the market. We ate with Eddie, David, Alfred (the man who is the caretaker of the guest house) and Amos (who does the accounting and administrative work for the organization). Everyone seemed to enjoy the strange food that I made, and Alfred even asked me to show him how I did it! I take this as a high compliment because he is supposed to be a very good cook, and he will be showing me how to make some Ugandan dishes.

After lunch we called our facilitator because we weren't sure if we were supposed to be doing something for the adoption or not. She told me she would call Isaac and let us know. Then we received a message that they were going to bring Tommy over soon. A while ago we heard a car at the gate, but it was only Patrick, although he brought news that Isaac texted him that they were on their way. A few minutes ago the phone rang and we heard Patrick give Isaac directions, but we are still waiting, as patiently as possible...

Entebbe

After writing the last post, we went to board our plane. They do things differently in Amsterdam, so you go through security as you are boarding the plan. They don't line you up by your row number, everyone just crams together in one long line. The actual checks are just like in the US, although they use nice colorful trays instead of grey bins. Jeff got stopped because some of his electronic equipment appeared suspicious.

Our flight was less enjoyable as we were more tired and there was a very unhappy baby a few seats from us, who cried for the better part of eight hours. Food was still good, entertainment was better because the plane had those screens for every seat which allow individual program selection. KLM has a good library of movies, so we finally got to see Little Miss Sunshine. We both slept on and off throughout the flight.

Our plane after arrival at Entebbe

We were pretty beat when we got to Entebbe. Neither of us could really believe that we were finally in Uganda. We got off the plane and the side of the airport building says "Welcome to the Pearl of Africa." The airport is smaller, but very clean and nice. We didn't know anything about going through immigration, so that was a bit of an unpleasant surprise. We received forms to fill out while on the plane, then when we got off we were handed health forms. We (foolishly) filled ours out, thinking that was the right thing to do. We should have gotten in line. The line took quite some time because a group of nurses had to read and stamp every form to certify that we were healthy for entry. While standing in line we talked with a fellow passenger who was leading a group and asked if he knew which visa line we had to stand in. The signage wasn't great- just a line for residents and others. We had gotten visas while still in the US, so we didn't need to purchase them at the airport like almost everyone else on our plane did. However we were told that everyone has to stand in the same line, because you have to get your visa checked and stamped. So we waited in a very long line, rather irritated because we paid extra to get our visas in the US for apparently no reason. We get to the front of the line, and the woman behind the counter informs us that we shouldn't have waited in line at all! That should teach us not to rely on other tourists for information. We ended up being some of the last people through the line, we got our bags (did I mentioned we checked five bags, and carried on two small suitcases and a personal item each). We must have looked pretty odd with our luggage cart piled so high. In our defense, the biggest bag was stuffed full of clothes, shoes, candy, and a few toys to take to the Ibanda Babies Home. We may have also brought a rather large amount of food, including a Costco-sized bottle of ketchup, because I was worried I wouldn't be able to get real Ketchup here, and unwilling to go without for six weeks.

Our driver (Eddie), guide (David), and the coordinator of our guest house (Patrick) met us right outside. They had a little sign with our names on it and the name of our adoption agency. We were very relieved to see them. By that time it was probably 10:30 pm or so, as our flight was delayed about 40 minutes. We drove through the outskirts of Kampala, glimpsed Lake Victoria, saw a very cool Coke advertisement (hopefully I will be able to post a picture later), the backside of the US Embassy, and lots and lots of shops and homes.

The view from our front porch on our first morning in Uganda

Front view of the guest house

Our yard

The interior front common room

We are staying in the region of the Embassy, and we are told that this is where all the Mzungus (white people) like to stay. Our guest house is amazing. It has far surpassed our expectations. We have rented a bedroom and adjoining bathroom with hot water, and have use of a front room, dining room, kitchen, and yard/porch/lawn. It is decorated nicely and even has a TV. For now we are the only people staying here so we have the run of the place, some missionaries are expected for a week sometime this month, but we think it will be nice to share the common rooms with them. The house is in a compound, which means it has very thick walls topped with barbed wire and an armed guard. We feel very safe. We are on the top of Bbunga (sounds like boonga) hill, and have a very refreshing breeze. The air is a bit smoky because people burn their trash, but it being up higher really keeps the air clearer. My throat feels a bit scratchy from the smoke. The men who run it also run an organization coordinating missions in Uganda. Everyone has been wonderfully kind and so helpful.

Quick Update

We have very limited internet access, so I don't have time to do a full post on meeting Tommy, but we have him now, and he will continue to stay with us. He is adjusting fairly well. He is very attached to the head Sister at the orphanage (the one who brought him to us), so while she was here yesterday (Tuesday) he wanted NOTHING to do with us. He only had eyes for her, and cried every time she moved from him or left his sight. However, once she left he consented to hang out with us. He is probably pretty confused right now. It must be scary to leave the only home you’ve ever known, travel for hours, and then get placed in the arms of two people who look and feel very different from everyone you have every known.

He is pretty content, and very curious. He is really enjoying the toys we brought for him, especially his mirror. He is one big boy. I guess the information we were sent on his weight was accurate after all.

Right now we are headed to The Surgery (the doctor for Americans and Europeans), as Tommy has pretty much the foulest stuff I have ever seen or smelled pouring out his behind. I have changed many a diaper and never seen anything that remotely approached how disgusting this is. We aren’t overly concerned, as it is very normal for the kids in the orphanage to have parasites and bacterial infections, but we figured better safe than sorry. He has a few other minor orphanage related issues, but nothing major as far as we know.

Please keep us in your prayers tonight (Weds), as we go to court Thursday morning at nine. We are praying that the judge will be satisfied with our paperwork and hear our case. It will be at least a week before we know the results.

Amsterdam

Well, the Dutch certainly know how to treat you right. We are flying KLM- Royal Dutch Airlines, and our flight here was amazing. The seats were comfortable, there were lots of drinks, and the food was good. That’s right, the food was good. Both of the meals they served were great. In fact, my "western chicken," had such good flavor that I almost licked the sauce off the tray. I managed to restrain myself in the interest of not looking weird.

Jeff says it was without a doubt the nicest flight he has ever taken. It was, of course, also the most expensive flight he has ever taken, but that is beside the point. Actually, KLM gave us an adoption fare that has no charge for flight changes and allows us one extra checked bag, and it was about the same cost of our other options because of the last minute nature of our trip, plus it is a short journey: about two eight hour flights and one four hour layover in Amsterdam. We had the help of a very smart travel agent, Shirley, at Open Door in Palos Verdes. We are so grateful that she found this amazing schedule for us. We never would have figured this out on our own, and she was right when she said KLM would be very comfortable. The entertainment was lame though. Small TV covered in subtitles, and the movie showing was wretchedly bad. I watched it anyway. It was a romantic comedy in which a young female striving to make it in the corporate world played by Renee Zellweger is torn from her trendy Miami life and sent to Minnesota in the dead of winter to improve production in a factory town. She clashes with the local union rep, played by Harry Connick Jr, until they fall in love, and eventually save the plant and town from being closed by the evil corporation by mass producing tapioca pudding. I didn’t make that up. There were no funny parts. None. The acting was so ridiculously bad and the dialogue matched it. I should have just gone to sleep but I am such a sucker for in-flight movies. Watching them makes me feel like I am getting my money’s worth. One upside of the in-flight entertainment was that there were tons of newspapers to choose from, so I read the WSJ and FT. It was nice to catch up on the news as we have been way too busy to read the Trib the last few days. Then I slept for quite a few hours. Jeff wasn’t able to sleep as much. Too enthralled with NCIS reruns, I guess.


Now we are sitting in the airport in Amsterdam for our layover. We walked around for the first couple of hours, and went to the airport art museum (small, but some beautiful paintings). Now Jeff is resting, and I am sitting here typing away.


In all seriousness, this day has been difficult for me. When we arrived at the airport I became very emotional, and actually started crying in the baggage check-in line. I couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. It has been such a long, hard road to this place, and I am so hoping that we are nearing our journey's end, but also apprehensive because of all the things that could go wrong. Then I almost cried again because my carry-on didn’t fit into the recently downsized box, not because of the bag measurements, which fit what they have posted online (checked and rechecked last night), but because of the stupid handle and wheels. The KLM agent wanted to check them for us, but I couldn’t let her. Our court clothes are in those bags, and all of our paperwork duplicates. When I explained she gave us a size waiver and allowed us to carry them on.

We are so excited to meet Tommy and to bring him home, but we still miss Leah. I want them both. After things had settled down and we were in the air, I had some time to reflect on the events of the last few days, something I have been unable to do in all the hustle and bustle of packing. It is difficult to process the range of emotions that we have experienced since Wednesday (Leah's Birthday). Thank goodness for long flights.