Well go, dont wait or think

I sit under the mango tree in the front yard of my Namuwongo home. Enchanted notes flow over my fence; I look up and follow it back. “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you….”
Children are laughing merrily through the English then Lugandan version of the celebrated song and occasion. For this moment they are children, they are playing, they have security between themselves, their free and allowing the tune of this song be carried to where ever there rhythmical heart’s desire.
(Hand Raised)
I do solemnly swear to never again take for granted the following – hot water, electricity, gas, oven, microwave, washing machine, dishwashing machine and all other forms of easy living.
This week’s annoyance would be the lack of gas. Jade, (a close friend living here with me now) and I having been attempting to use the charcoal - small fire outside for our dinners. We got our 101 class from Felista the house girl and felt confident and proud that we were going to be sweet with this. Eating at 11:00pm that night after waiting hours and working up a sweat for pasta and some sauce however changed this confidence.
I still love being in Uganda, there is not a day that I don’t feel grateful for being here and my life. I am learning so much from the people here, as Africa’s Life Teachings student finding what matters most. I have seen poverty I cannot comprehend; yet these victims do not look at their situation as hopeless or walk around being sorry for themselves. They get on with life and work to have a better future for themselves and their children regardless of the situation.
Realizing that me being here isn’t about how I can help the vulnerable but how I can come alongside and support them in whatever way that means. Seeing them not as anything lower because of their wealth or ‘status’ but stronger than me. Looking at how much they can do with what is in their hands not how much is not. They are the bravest people I know.
Hands for Hope is such a genuine organization. Helping individuals, motivated by their hearts, hope and understanding of how they really help transform lives.
The tailoring program has certainly had some hick ups. At times seemed bleak and considered another path, like all things worth fighting for though. The easy thing would be to give up and flutter back to comfortable Oz. Sure I have these moments, when I do I walk back into the slum or talk to a child in the program and bamm! There’s my needed slap in the face. Regardless of some circumstances that have been, I don’t want to give up and I still see the potential of the program and women. This is Africa, so things aren’t going to flow the way I expect or would like always.
The big dilemma is finding a stable generating source of income and accommodating to the right market, long term sustainability for the women. Looking into a 4 month plan for the women to achieve all types of sewing items and at the end, they will graduate being deservingly rewarded with their own sewing machine. Then, after I leave they will hopefully have small business in the tailoring world.
Ive been working quite a lot on sorting through masses of donations and now figuring the best way and most needed to receive these general items. The other 2 crazies that make up with me our 3 Musketeer clan helped with this and also organizing and de-cluttering the teacher’s office – certainly not fun jobs. Especially when you discover ancient mice remains and then fear how many more you’re to find!
It feels very strange that im seeing people come into the org and leave and im staying on. Was very sad saying goodbye to my dear 2 friends that recently left and being an audience to the kids fare welling them. However small the act of what people do here, the huge significance and unforgettable, gratefulness from the children, amazes me.
I will never be able to try nor relate to children growing up here. Seeing a child pick and stare at a piece of pizza as if they were the first to find a mysterious treasure. Watching radiating joy and expressed squeals of excitement from young boys playing with a flat somewhat ‘soccer ball’ alongside rubbish humps. Or witnessing a child that just received their life changing news that they now have a sponsor. I was at the primary school this week and saw this child sitting in his unfamiliar new school chair. He was proudly wearing his uniform and a huge expecting, thankful smile. He is 12 and has finally been given the opportunity every child deserves to an education and meaning to a hopeful future.
Before I left for Egypt, I sold my car and am now experiencing life without this ease. There are positives in this lose, no more procedures of parking the car or having the kids standing on the side ledges as im trying to miss the ones running behind to park in the school. Then coming out of the school to find children taking the responsibility to ‘wash’ the large vehicle. (in other terms, painting and spreading the dirt around the car with clothes.) I can’t help but show them thankfulness for their willing care and thoughtfulness. They then nod delighted at the satisfaction of the work they have done.
With consent and recommendation from my parents, looks like im getting a motorbike : ) Maybe if I get short on cash ill take up being a boda boda driver….
I experienced my first visit to the downtown local markets with one of the teachers. This is where I now buy my fruit and vegetables for the wonderful local price. Whilst enjoying the new exciting surroundings and picking the food amidst the chaotic, bright crowds.
So you can help keep track of my mosquito attack war while writing this has just been updated to Brigitta -4. Mosquito – 0 booya!
It feels like I never left Kampala…I spent my first couple of days here settling in again and using the opportunity to soak up some hugs from the kids. I mean showing Jade all the projects…One of my favourite moments in my day is when I arrive at the office and stall outside the baby class. I can never hold in my excitement and I hear my voice bubbling with delight as I say hello to the precious faces gleaming with smiles. They respond in choir “good morning Brigitta, how are you?” it is the most delicate and treasurable moments.
I took Jade to visit the other school, I was also keen to see the missed children and the cook there has recently had a baby whom when I left was kept peacefully in an open suitcase during the day, he looked like a present. Ha… The children took their moments of fame out the front of the glistening expecting audience and sang songs. I love how much music is a part of life here! Of course, they had shown there talent and now the 2 Mzungu’s were to do the same. The girl I sat next to said with the straightest face of an old lady “well go, don’t wait or think, hurry you.” Ha The kids were in roars of laughter when Jade and I broke into a song with matching highly spectacular dance moves.
Days are quite unplanned at the moment till we have some more things in concrete with the tailoring so this week its been full of random times of paperwork, resuscitation classes, teaching, planning all things tailoring and the new job ive picked up of doing the Doc’s paper work….well im certainly not bored!
Till next time, stay in peace and love dear friends

Salam wa aleikum

Maybe I should introduce myself now as Baby Spice? Shakira? Or a representative from Lonely Planet? The 3^rd was a masked identity we created without the Egyptian’s opinion…

I met up with a dear friend Jade the day before I was to fly to the enchanted land of Egypt. It was inevitable that we would discover a brilliant plan for her to come with me...dah…

8:00, 9:00, 10:00pm only 5 more hours to endure and stay awake till we flew. Why do I always choose the horrid flight hours to save some mullah? I was looking forward to having some time away in general and to think etc, also time for hot water, gas, clean feet and stable electricity. Our taxi arrives African time and were on a tight schedule to make our flight. About 45 minutes into the hour drive to the airport the taxi is slowly drifting to the side of the road…’sorry ma’am looks like were out of petrol’. Times like these I do not appreciate the blaze tune to the comments. Out the driver jumps with a jerry can and sprints into the black of night. Jade and I sit. Starring at the time ticking, the petrol light shining and the random unsafe feeling of the boda driver starring in on the 2 Mzungu’s in the car as he goes by at 2am.

Were speechless and appreciate the bugs buzzing’s not allowing the silence to exaggerate our fears. What can you do. The driver reappears with the fuel and off we go….

Arriving in Cairo felt rather bizarre as I am greeted by an Uncle I can hardly remember and the tiredness taking over my motion. We drive to our home for our time in Cairo, the Dutch Ambassadors residency. We are welcomed by a huge perfectly floral yard and magnificent house. I am too tired all that is going on and cannot register the new shiny surroundings so I go to sleep. I awake to the informing of dinner soon and greet my Aunty, the Dutch Ambassador in Cairo. It is amazing and a privilege to spend time with family who you hardly know and get to know them and their achievements. An unforgettable, special time sharing stories of family, some gone, some now older.

We were equipped with maps of everywhere and priceless information on the city we were about to explore. Starting with the Cairo Museum we quickly realized that we were quite different to locals and wore far less clothing on our body, especially our heads…

Egypt is amazing, excitingly rich in culture and history that is unfathomable. We somehow tackled all that we set out to see and do.

I love going to a new country and spending time in the hidden richness of local ‘hang outs’ and discovering the quirkiness of people and their culture. Its funny that people seem the same all around the world. Smoke from Shisha pipes filing lanes, old men drinking tea and enjoying an endless game of Backgammon chuckling over their historical jokes. Traditional food always served with a dish of ‘what could this do to my body, specifically bowls if I eat you?’ Dark allies overflowing with coffee shops and locals calling you in. Children playing with cats and covered in jewelry. Driving rules and roads nonexistent. Markets cramped with new delights and junk that somehow presents the unfamiliar culture that makes me feel I would really want it…

We went to a mosque and upon arrival we realized that maybe our appropriate dress wear wasn’t so appropriate after all…I was soon to discover I have very sexy ankles that should really be covered in public, so I was given a beautiful gown shall we say to do the amazing job of covering me head to toe. Lurking around corners and dark prayer rooms I felt I should be in a sequel for Harry Potter. All humorous moments aside, you do stand in awe at the history, beliefs, respect and architecture of the mosques.

As if to be popped in between tall buildings, my eyes were popping out when there in front, was the Sphinx. We made our way closer and closer, pushing off the men bouncing up offering camel rides, proposals and tourist ‘must haves’. It felt as if I was watching my surroundings through the Discovery Channel.

We negotiate the camel trip and over my leg hops onto this quirky, camel. Camels are very humorous creatures and seem to resemble cartoon like facial expressions. You lean back and are surprised as they spring there back legs up and then forward allowing their front legs to straighten. The man whom we negotiated with motioned us to go while calling out ‘enjoy, pay me 80 000 when your back’.

There games never cease to amaze me and I argued back ‘no, we agreed 70 000’ as my camel is awkwardly walking away.

‘you pay 80 000 or you will not enjoy’ he firmly responded.

What can you do when you’re already mounted on this large animal? Of we embark, somewhat trotting over the unending, stretched desert hills in the blazing 45 degree heat. We reach the pyramids and have somehow convinced the tour guide that today he will let us climb one of the small pyramids, and allow that rule not to, slide by. It was incredible and breathtaking, standing on the pyramid it is hard soaking in the history and grandness of what you are on top of. We hurry back down as there the other Egyptian tour guides are fast approaching yelling in Arabic for us to get off. In true clumsy, un appropriate foot wear Brigitta style, I cut my foot and enjoy the next week cleaning out sand and dirt from every tourist site we enter into. A man comes to collect our ’80 000’ and after giving this he tries to argue that we need to pay 80 000 for the tour guide. We mockingly laugh this off. In anger and losing this battle he decides to drop jade and I in the middle of nowhere…Jade had mentioned she wanted to walk for a day in the desert (huh hmm) and this was going to be it…

We spent a day exploring Coptic Cairo, with unending temples, churches, grave yards and historical symbols.

The night life in Egypt is delightful. My Aunt and Uncle took us to a German Ballet which was so experimental and a wonderful experience. We had dinner on a small sailing boat on the Nile taking in all the lights and life off the sides of streets. Local market walks and Shisha sessions at night. But my favorite evening was going down town for a traditional Gypsy show that keeps the historical Egyptian music and rhythms alive. Room filled with antiques, tea cups snuggled into hands, tambourines being ‘tuned’ over a fire before the show and then vocals so unfamiliar and the beats adrenalin forcing you to join in on the movement.

We put on our backpackers badge and one of the house men set up the cheapest way to travel to Luxor for us. We know the plan but didn’t quite register the exhaustion of the unfolding of it…Our night train arrived at 2am instead of 12, and we were welcomed in Luxor by the 45 degree heat and men more annoying and persistence than one could have imagined. We started with the Temple of Luxor and Temple of Karnak then set off to find our hostel. The Bob Marley hostel, highly living up to the names expectations! We awoke at 5:30am and jumped on the fiery across the sea to the East side for our Hot Air balloon experience.

I felt like a 5 year old not being able to hold their excitement under their skin. The basket was dropped from the car and off the men went firing the air inside the balloon and then shooting the flames up. We were lifted and placed inside and up we went. Over the fields, houses, temples and Valley of the Kings and Queens. Surreal, unforgettable and looking positively at the situation amusing when trying to hold back the fear I asked ‘are we dropping at an alarmingly un-normal speed?’

‘landing positions’ the controller yelled and we were alerted he could not see into the distance and it would be very unsafe to continue forth so we must land right away. This meant some poor residents field below. Sure, a disappointment we weren’t up flying high for longer, yet every second we had was amazing and were happily surprised to receive a full refund! Damn, we just never got a tshirt ;)

We then spent the rest of the day conquering the sites of 8 different temples and tombs in the killing 50 degree heat. That night we boarded the local night train back to our loved and missed Palace. Due to corruption of ticket buying the day before, buying that night on the train was the best way around this. Tired, possible heat stroke and dehydration in goes the ear plugs, bag straps tightly around wrists we shut our eyes to sleep.

‘Move, you’re in our seats’ I open one eye and there is the lady poking me an hour later saying this over and over again. We are informed that we don’t have reserved seats….?...you buy tickets on the train you are not assured of a seat number. We stroll the carriages, moody, craving sleep and comfort in search for a place to rest our heads. We find one seat and Jade and I share this space. One and a half hours go by and dejavu….were up now storming the train, with no patience or calmness for the men and offices pestering us. Jade excitingly holds my hand and is thrilled to share her discovery of a patch of train floor she saw earlier on. At this stage I wasn’t fussy yet an area between a man’s seat and the door to the connection of the train carriages roughly 1m by half a meter isn’t impressive…we settle and maneuver our bodies to cramp into this area for the rest of the night. I didn’t think it was possible to sleep were I did, nor did I think I ever would but desperate time’s right? We laughed ourselves to sleep.

Next destination – Dahab, The Red Sea. After well rested and living it up in the Embassy we are refreshed and are ready for the cheap way of doing things outside the Embassy again. After never needing our passports previously when we had travelled we carelessly thought it would be better to keep them locked up at the Embassy instead of having to constantly carry on us in the Red Sea. I know what so many of you would be thinking right now and Shushh ha I’ve learnt…This time we took the 12 hour bus and soon after departure were stopped by officials and walked off the bus as oh my we didn’t have our passports. The time we don’t….So we argue, they yell at each other in Arabic my ears perking in every time I hear ‘Australia’. The passengers on the bus now on one side with their eyes goggling out to the situation now outside as if to have placed the bus on a slant. I spoke the only thing I thought that could save us and that was confident spill on my Aunty being the Ambassador and knowing of all we are doing. We were let back on the bus without another word hahahaha…. This repeated 6 more times and I had my speech perfected by the end.

Dahab is stunningly beautiful and charming. On one side you have mountains painted up the sky and on the other you have the Red Sea, sparkling with her blue rays. It is a very chilled place and I could stay there for at least a month! I love that everywhere you eat you are seated on the ground immersed in cushions. We spent a whole day snorkeling our way through the Red Sea coral reefs in an area called The Blue Hole which in parts is 110metres deep! Yet we could surface the water and still touch coral and the majestic underwater world. The wonder of the detailed exquisite world down there is awe inspiring.

That evening, dressed in beach pants and ‘flip flops’ (safe word to use I realize more and more) we jumped on horses and off we went through the dark night along the street market, sand and then through the water. Perfect end to a perfect day! Although, my hesitations awoke after my horse was cantering along the sand in the decision to create a faster path and hated being controlled. ‘No insurance, paper work, medical assurance if anything was to happen…’

We finished our newly loved lifestyle in The Red Sea with a bike ride along the shores and between the mountains and sea.

Our last few days back in Cairo were full of more markets, eating (too much at every inappropriate hour), special night chats with my newly known and loved family members, finishing the emotionally inspiring book my Uncle wrote during their time in Sri Lanka and soaking up the dream lifestyle on a silver platter.

In the taxi ride to the airport, a tear made of gratitude and sadness dropped onto my top. Egypt was unforgettably special yet I know there is a whole world waiting for me, full of surprises!