Salaam Aleikum!
And already I'm realizing how my time here is going to fly by. My whole vacation got off to a lazy start. Staying in the house until 2 or 3 in the afternoon and then finally venturing out to see friends, old colleagues, etc. I've made a schedule for myself so I can get everything accomplished. I'm planning on heading back to the village on Sunday. I can't wait to get back there, though I will miss having the time here with my friends in Dakar.
The weekend went well. Saturday was rainy. At night, my friend Vince's little brother, Olivier, hosted a xawaree (une soiree--much like a house party, but with a Senegalese twist) in their courtyard. It was targeted for teenagers. The place was packed. My friends and I danced in the space we could find, a bit away from the young'ns. :) They tell me I haven't forgotten how to dance, que je danse bien, comme une Senegalaise. The highest compliment of all! I finally left the party around 4:30am. They don't mess around here. Most of them didn't even show up until midnight. Ha!
Sunday, I slept until noon, ate lunch and then took another nap. I told you these days are lazy! Finally, I made my way three house down to my friend Malick's house, where we spent the afternoon visiting with his mother and watching traditional wrestling. However, our neighborhood was cursed with a power outage just before the "grande lutte" -- the match everyone had been waiting for. We heard it on the radio instead and watched the reruns later on the news. Oh the government.
I can deal with power outages, but Sunday night they (the State-owned water utility, I presume) turned off the water. This is unacceptable. You can't shower, flush, drink. You have to be careful about how you use your water reserves. The water didn't come back until 11am on Monday. With no electrity you can light a candle, but with no water... there are no wells here in the city and water is expensive to buy.
Finally, Monday afternoon I set out to fix my cell phone problem. I waited for a technician for 3 hours in his boutique only for him to tell me that the problem is that my phone does not have the proper band for the new service they have here. A wasted afternoon, but such is life. The other boutique vendor and I made small talk about the US and Senegal. He, like everyone else, complains about the government. Just that morning, Wade, the president, announced he's going to try and change the constitution to extend his term from 5 years to 7 years. Yikes! Affaire bu graw -- a grave affair.
Monday after dinner, I finally saw my friends in Liberte 2-- Abdou, Djily, El Hadj, and others. For those of you that know them, they haven't changed a bit! Djily gave me a ride home on his motorcycle. Exhilarating!! He gave me a small tour of town, showing off the new roads of Dakar. We cruised along the ocean front boulevard -- La Corniche. Breathtaking.
But with the water back on, it has rained all day yesterday and today. If only the water utility and the Rain Gods could coordinate! (Although yesterday morning it was sunny, so I went on the rooftop terrace to sun a bit, but despite my use of sunscreen the powerful Senegalese sun got the best of me.) I spent the afternoon with a family in Cipres. Megan, Jayna, and I were good friends with this family. Their daughter moved to Seattle and we visited her there in January. It was great to see her family again. They are so kind. And it's good for my Wolof, because only her brother speaks French (and English too, actually), so I get good practice expressing myself and understanding what they are saying to me. Also, I met a family friend of there's. She is looking to be a nanny in the States for 3 months. Anyone or anyone you know, interested? She speaks French and wants to improve her English.
Today, I again spent the morning in the house and then went to visit my family's former maid. I was close with her when I lived here before so it was nice to see her again. She now works in a different household.
The rain has yet to cease, but I suppose they don't call it the rainy season for nothing. It's rarely a heavy rain, more a consistent light tropical rain. The power was out for 5 or 6 hours this morning and two or three times throughout the night. I know because my fan stops blowing. So hopefully we won't be cut off again today.
So my first week here is complete. The rest will pass too quickly, but I'm finally getting my act together about seeing people and doing things.
Tomorrow I have plans for Marche HLM to buy fabric and bring it to the tailor. In the afternoon, I hope to see Diarra from Macalester. That's all for now.
Jamm ak jamm. (The sheep bleating outside the cyber cafe say hello!)
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
A familiar place
My third day. I know they are going to pass quickly. I am loving being back. It is all so familiar. My friends and I continue to remark how quickly the last 13 months passed. It really feels like just yesterday that I left. Time continues to prove itself to be a funny thing.
My luggage arrived yesterday morning. It's great to have some clothing options again. I spent 3 hours doing my laundry from the first two weeks of the trip. Back to the good old method employing 2 basins of water, a bar of soap, and my own two hands. Exhausting. The maids don't think I do an adequate job, but it's good enough for me. :)
My luggage is here, but my newest obstacle is that my phone doesn't work and in an attempt to make it work, all the phone numbers were erased from my phonebook. Being the technology-dependent person that I am, I didn't write the numbers elsewhere. So I'm scrambling around with my e-mails trying to get people's phone numbers here. (All of you at home, I lost your numbers too. You should send them to me in an e-mail.)
The heat and humidity are here in full force, much like when I arrived in September 2006. I'd forgotten what it is like. My skin is always sticky. Yesterday, I took 3 showers! Common greetings, after asking how you are and responsding, "I am here only," and then asking if you are in peace, one often proceeds to ask how the heat is. "Hard/difficult" you respond.
Let me continue to paint the picture I started in my last entry. The surface of Dakar has changed since I was last here. The road consruction that was well underway when I left is now complete. The road network involves all types of round-abouts, tunnels, bridges, dividers, merges and most importantly, SIDEWALKS! Some intersections are completely different (for those of you that were here--there is now a giant bridge merging the VDN with Route de CAD). What's best though, is that there are all types of public art displays on these new roundabouts and bridges. Gives Dakar a whole new impression.
But the people here are not pleased. Great, they say, they have nice new streets, but food and utilities are more expensive than ever. The bakers are on strike because they want to charge more for bread due to increased price of wheat. Rice, boy do you hear about the increased price in rice. The average Senegalese eats rice from breakfast, lunch and dinner. The double in price has hit people hard here.
There are more blackouts than ever before. I'm talking 3-4 per day and lasting for hours at a time. Despite this, their electricity bills continue to increase. And what's worse, no one knows when the blackouts will occur. The government could at least create a schedule. Additionally, people have gone days at a time without running water in their homes.
This time I am frustrated too. Maybe I was last time, I don't know. I know that in the beginning, sickly enough, I was charmed by the blackouts. But really, two years later and the situation is worse, it's unbelievable. It is not a way to live, they say, and I completely agree.
There's nothing to do during the poweroutages, coupures as we call them here, but sit them out and wait. You light a candle and wait. The other night, I was sitting with friends in Vince's courtyard. Power went out. But we lit a candle, continued sipping on our beers, and someone played music on their phone. In this case, it's not so bad, but still... there are no excuses. It is not acceptable.
It's funny being here without other tubaabs. I am blantantly aware of my gender again. Since I don't have many girl friends here in Mermoz (my neighborhood in Dakar) it is always Hannah and the boys. The story of my life. However, it's different here than at home. You would never see a Senegalese woman sitting with men until 2 in the morning. Maybe last time I was more comfortable with it since there were other girls with me, but this time... I don't know. I'm less comfortable breaking this social norm.
But it is still good to be back with the MOZ boys. I'd forgotten what it's like to sit for hours and understand nothing around me, but my coping mechanism of getting lost in my thoughts has come right back to me. It's funny when I stop and think about it. Why do I love it so much here... sitting for hours and not understanding the conversations around me? I can't explain it.
I have a sense of belonging here. I know people wherever I venture in the neighborhood and can greet them by name. (It's embarrassing how many names I've forgotten though. And I'm shocked by how many people remember and recognize me. I guess I was the tubaab that never left. Yag naa fii.) The pace of life is slow and I appreciate that. It's funny because when I'm at home, I love being super busy. I feel in my element when I'm at school and I go from class to meeting to project to work to exercise to dinner to meeting and finally get to my homework around midnight. But that is not the case here.
Yesterday, for example, I had to go to the telecenter to call the airport about my bags. They didn't answer on my first attempt. So the boutique vendor got me a chair and offered me a Senegalese coffee. I sat in the boutique/telecenter, sipped cafe touba, made small talk with those that came in, and just sat and watched the street life and waited. I was probably there for over 30 minutes before I got a hold of the airport. This whole situation would never happen at home. But that is a kernel of what I love about the lifestyle here and what my day to day life looks like.
Okay that's all for now. I'll continue the painting in my next entry. Leegi leegi!
My luggage arrived yesterday morning. It's great to have some clothing options again. I spent 3 hours doing my laundry from the first two weeks of the trip. Back to the good old method employing 2 basins of water, a bar of soap, and my own two hands. Exhausting. The maids don't think I do an adequate job, but it's good enough for me. :)
My luggage is here, but my newest obstacle is that my phone doesn't work and in an attempt to make it work, all the phone numbers were erased from my phonebook. Being the technology-dependent person that I am, I didn't write the numbers elsewhere. So I'm scrambling around with my e-mails trying to get people's phone numbers here. (All of you at home, I lost your numbers too. You should send them to me in an e-mail.)
The heat and humidity are here in full force, much like when I arrived in September 2006. I'd forgotten what it is like. My skin is always sticky. Yesterday, I took 3 showers! Common greetings, after asking how you are and responsding, "I am here only," and then asking if you are in peace, one often proceeds to ask how the heat is. "Hard/difficult" you respond.
Let me continue to paint the picture I started in my last entry. The surface of Dakar has changed since I was last here. The road consruction that was well underway when I left is now complete. The road network involves all types of round-abouts, tunnels, bridges, dividers, merges and most importantly, SIDEWALKS! Some intersections are completely different (for those of you that were here--there is now a giant bridge merging the VDN with Route de CAD). What's best though, is that there are all types of public art displays on these new roundabouts and bridges. Gives Dakar a whole new impression.
But the people here are not pleased. Great, they say, they have nice new streets, but food and utilities are more expensive than ever. The bakers are on strike because they want to charge more for bread due to increased price of wheat. Rice, boy do you hear about the increased price in rice. The average Senegalese eats rice from breakfast, lunch and dinner. The double in price has hit people hard here.
There are more blackouts than ever before. I'm talking 3-4 per day and lasting for hours at a time. Despite this, their electricity bills continue to increase. And what's worse, no one knows when the blackouts will occur. The government could at least create a schedule. Additionally, people have gone days at a time without running water in their homes.
This time I am frustrated too. Maybe I was last time, I don't know. I know that in the beginning, sickly enough, I was charmed by the blackouts. But really, two years later and the situation is worse, it's unbelievable. It is not a way to live, they say, and I completely agree.
There's nothing to do during the poweroutages, coupures as we call them here, but sit them out and wait. You light a candle and wait. The other night, I was sitting with friends in Vince's courtyard. Power went out. But we lit a candle, continued sipping on our beers, and someone played music on their phone. In this case, it's not so bad, but still... there are no excuses. It is not acceptable.
It's funny being here without other tubaabs. I am blantantly aware of my gender again. Since I don't have many girl friends here in Mermoz (my neighborhood in Dakar) it is always Hannah and the boys. The story of my life. However, it's different here than at home. You would never see a Senegalese woman sitting with men until 2 in the morning. Maybe last time I was more comfortable with it since there were other girls with me, but this time... I don't know. I'm less comfortable breaking this social norm.
But it is still good to be back with the MOZ boys. I'd forgotten what it's like to sit for hours and understand nothing around me, but my coping mechanism of getting lost in my thoughts has come right back to me. It's funny when I stop and think about it. Why do I love it so much here... sitting for hours and not understanding the conversations around me? I can't explain it.
I have a sense of belonging here. I know people wherever I venture in the neighborhood and can greet them by name. (It's embarrassing how many names I've forgotten though. And I'm shocked by how many people remember and recognize me. I guess I was the tubaab that never left. Yag naa fii.) The pace of life is slow and I appreciate that. It's funny because when I'm at home, I love being super busy. I feel in my element when I'm at school and I go from class to meeting to project to work to exercise to dinner to meeting and finally get to my homework around midnight. But that is not the case here.
Yesterday, for example, I had to go to the telecenter to call the airport about my bags. They didn't answer on my first attempt. So the boutique vendor got me a chair and offered me a Senegalese coffee. I sat in the boutique/telecenter, sipped cafe touba, made small talk with those that came in, and just sat and watched the street life and waited. I was probably there for over 30 minutes before I got a hold of the airport. This whole situation would never happen at home. But that is a kernel of what I love about the lifestyle here and what my day to day life looks like.
Okay that's all for now. I'll continue the painting in my next entry. Leegi leegi!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Home Sweet Home
Salaam Aleikum!!
Na ngeen def? Yeen angi ci jamm? And so the greetings go here in Senegal. I am finally here.
It's funny, when I got back to Mac for my senior year it felt as though my year in Senegal had never happened. But now that I'm here, it feels like I was never gone.
I got in late last night (3am) after over 24 hours of travel! Ugh. Sadly, my bags didn't seem to make it on the flight. God knows where they are. Uganda? Johannesburg? Atlanta (if they never made it off my plane)? Hopefully they'll come soon as I only have the clothes with me that I wore.
I'm so happy to be back in Senegal. The sounds, sights, smells are all so familiar. The busy streets with the colorful car rapides, people chattering in Wolof, my family and friends, the smell of charcoal fires and the cooking food, the loud airplanes passing overhead, the sensation of perpetual sweating (so hot here!), the smell of their soap, of the house, of everything. So many memories come rushing back to me that I have associated with all these senses of mine. How I missed this place!
I spent the morning at the house. There was a power outage so no chance of e-mail. I washed my clothes and wore an oversized Senegalese outfit my mother loaned me. I read, and sat, and thought, and played with my two new nephews. They are certainly a new sound in the house. 1 yr and 10 months old! They are quite the duo. Never ending energy!!
After lunch, my clothes had already dried on the line. I set out to run errands and stopped to chat and visit with old friends and their families along the way. I love the culture. I can just stop and sit with people and catch up on the past year. It's so great to reconnect.
Anyway, that's all for now. Keep your fingers crossed that my bags will arrive tonight.
Jamm ak Jamm.
Na ngeen def? Yeen angi ci jamm? And so the greetings go here in Senegal. I am finally here.
It's funny, when I got back to Mac for my senior year it felt as though my year in Senegal had never happened. But now that I'm here, it feels like I was never gone.
I got in late last night (3am) after over 24 hours of travel! Ugh. Sadly, my bags didn't seem to make it on the flight. God knows where they are. Uganda? Johannesburg? Atlanta (if they never made it off my plane)? Hopefully they'll come soon as I only have the clothes with me that I wore.
I'm so happy to be back in Senegal. The sounds, sights, smells are all so familiar. The busy streets with the colorful car rapides, people chattering in Wolof, my family and friends, the smell of charcoal fires and the cooking food, the loud airplanes passing overhead, the sensation of perpetual sweating (so hot here!), the smell of their soap, of the house, of everything. So many memories come rushing back to me that I have associated with all these senses of mine. How I missed this place!
I spent the morning at the house. There was a power outage so no chance of e-mail. I washed my clothes and wore an oversized Senegalese outfit my mother loaned me. I read, and sat, and thought, and played with my two new nephews. They are certainly a new sound in the house. 1 yr and 10 months old! They are quite the duo. Never ending energy!!
After lunch, my clothes had already dried on the line. I set out to run errands and stopped to chat and visit with old friends and their families along the way. I love the culture. I can just stop and sit with people and catch up on the past year. It's so great to reconnect.
Anyway, that's all for now. Keep your fingers crossed that my bags will arrive tonight.
Jamm ak Jamm.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Next Stop: Senegal
There is a song in Wolof about being in a fishing boat and going early the next morning to Senegal. It goes Gaal gann girr_a bii (x2). Eleg suba tel dinaa dem Senegal. (I'll sing it for you some day if you're lucky.)
I've waited 13 months to sing this song and mean it. Early tomorrow morning I will catch my flight that will eventually take me to Dakar.
It is incredible to think I'm really going back. I am excited, nervous, anxious, curious... about how this will go. I'll be there for a month, just visiting and hanging out. I don't know how I will be received. I don't know what I'll do all day to bide my time. I also fear I haven't brought adequate gifts. But I figure things will work out. It will be wonderful to be back with my family and friends over there and back in the culture I grew to love so much.
The rest of the JRC folks flew home tonight. I'm staying at my friend Johan's house in Kampala. Thank God for Macalester. I now have a contact in many cities around the world. After 28 hours of travel (including an 8-hour layover in Johannesburg), I'll finally arrive in Dakar.
I can hardly wait.
These past two weeks have been wonderful and incredibly eye-opening. It was great to discover a different region of Africa and to travel with such inspiring people. I learned a lot about grassroots community development. We faced many harsh realities, but what stuck out most to me is the beauty and resilience of humanity. I hope you have enjoyed my posts so far. Now my journey continues in a different fashion.
Until Dakar, inshAllah,
Hannah
(P.S. Keep reading as I made two other posts tonight finishing the rest of our time in Uganda.)
I've waited 13 months to sing this song and mean it. Early tomorrow morning I will catch my flight that will eventually take me to Dakar.
It is incredible to think I'm really going back. I am excited, nervous, anxious, curious... about how this will go. I'll be there for a month, just visiting and hanging out. I don't know how I will be received. I don't know what I'll do all day to bide my time. I also fear I haven't brought adequate gifts. But I figure things will work out. It will be wonderful to be back with my family and friends over there and back in the culture I grew to love so much.
The rest of the JRC folks flew home tonight. I'm staying at my friend Johan's house in Kampala. Thank God for Macalester. I now have a contact in many cities around the world. After 28 hours of travel (including an 8-hour layover in Johannesburg), I'll finally arrive in Dakar.
I can hardly wait.
These past two weeks have been wonderful and incredibly eye-opening. It was great to discover a different region of Africa and to travel with such inspiring people. I learned a lot about grassroots community development. We faced many harsh realities, but what stuck out most to me is the beauty and resilience of humanity. I hope you have enjoyed my posts so far. Now my journey continues in a different fashion.
Until Dakar, inshAllah,
Hannah
(P.S. Keep reading as I made two other posts tonight finishing the rest of our time in Uganda.)
Grassroots Development at its Finest
I intend for this to be a short entry since I'm exhausted, but I wanted to share one of the most inspiring projects I've seen on this trip.
On Thursday we visited FDNC (Foundation for Development of Needy Communities). To quote their mission from a brochure I received: FDNC is a non-governmental organization (NGO) committed to building self-reliance and sustainable development in the most impoverished communities of Eastern Uganda through strategies that promote community participation and individual empowerment. Working in five major programming areas, including education and training, human rights, community-based health and development, music and dance, and institution building, the organization serves many vulnerable populations in the region.
In the morning we toured the vocational school. Students from around the region come to this school to get trained in skills like tailoring, hair dressing, computer skills, cement and brick-making. You get the picture. They do have to pay a fee. (If you want to sponsor a student go to: http://hugsuganda.org/.) Anyway, students receive tangible skills so they can have a trade a find work.
In the afternoon, we visited one of FDNC's partner villages. We were warmly greeted by the villagers with traditional songs and dances. We were the largest group of Muzungus (Swahili for Whites) they'd ever received. But we got to visit the projects FDNC has helped implement in the village. They have invested in a ram and goat. When kids are born, the females are distributed throughout the community. So far, 62 goats have been given away. The males are sold at the market. Only 34 families remain to receive a goat. We consider the ram to be the busiest goat in the country. :) But not only does this generate income from the sales, but the families can get milk from the goat to consume and sell. Additionally, the female goats can continue producing new goats for income or consumption. So it's the project that keeps giving. They have a similar operation with pigs.
We also got to see a rice field. They were given 10 kilos of seeds, which they had to replace from their first harvest. Now they are on their 2nd harvest. They are hoping to produce enough to sustain the community.
Finally, we saw a play the health workers put on to illustrate the importance of washing your hands after going to the bathroom and before eating meals. It was very interesting. They treated us to a feast at the end of our visit. The food was delicious! I also got to see an installed efficient stove. These things are amazing at reducing fuel consumption and piping the smoke out of the cooking area so the women are not exposed to it.
When we got back to the FDNC center, their band performed for us. (If you have old instruments you want to get rid of, talk to me. They are always looking for donations.) They were really good. They learned all the songs by listening, not by reading music. There was also a traditional dance troop that performed dances from Western, Eastern, and Central Uganda. It was a great show and a great way to wrap up the day.
Okay, that's all for now. I really encourage you to check out FDNC's website at the top of this page. It is an amazing organization doing incredible work. However, they are desperately in need of more resources to continue their work and expand their reach. What's best is that it was started by a Ugandan in an attempt to address his community's needs. Grassroots development.
On Thursday we visited FDNC (Foundation for Development of Needy Communities). To quote their mission from a brochure I received: FDNC is a non-governmental organization (NGO) committed to building self-reliance and sustainable development in the most impoverished communities of Eastern Uganda through strategies that promote community participation and individual empowerment. Working in five major programming areas, including education and training, human rights, community-based health and development, music and dance, and institution building, the organization serves many vulnerable populations in the region.
In the morning we toured the vocational school. Students from around the region come to this school to get trained in skills like tailoring, hair dressing, computer skills, cement and brick-making. You get the picture. They do have to pay a fee. (If you want to sponsor a student go to: http://hugsuganda.org/.) Anyway, students receive tangible skills so they can have a trade a find work.
In the afternoon, we visited one of FDNC's partner villages. We were warmly greeted by the villagers with traditional songs and dances. We were the largest group of Muzungus (Swahili for Whites) they'd ever received. But we got to visit the projects FDNC has helped implement in the village. They have invested in a ram and goat. When kids are born, the females are distributed throughout the community. So far, 62 goats have been given away. The males are sold at the market. Only 34 families remain to receive a goat. We consider the ram to be the busiest goat in the country. :) But not only does this generate income from the sales, but the families can get milk from the goat to consume and sell. Additionally, the female goats can continue producing new goats for income or consumption. So it's the project that keeps giving. They have a similar operation with pigs.
We also got to see a rice field. They were given 10 kilos of seeds, which they had to replace from their first harvest. Now they are on their 2nd harvest. They are hoping to produce enough to sustain the community.
Finally, we saw a play the health workers put on to illustrate the importance of washing your hands after going to the bathroom and before eating meals. It was very interesting. They treated us to a feast at the end of our visit. The food was delicious! I also got to see an installed efficient stove. These things are amazing at reducing fuel consumption and piping the smoke out of the cooking area so the women are not exposed to it.
When we got back to the FDNC center, their band performed for us. (If you have old instruments you want to get rid of, talk to me. They are always looking for donations.) They were really good. They learned all the songs by listening, not by reading music. There was also a traditional dance troop that performed dances from Western, Eastern, and Central Uganda. It was a great show and a great way to wrap up the day.
Okay, that's all for now. I really encourage you to check out FDNC's website at the top of this page. It is an amazing organization doing incredible work. However, they are desperately in need of more resources to continue their work and expand their reach. What's best is that it was started by a Ugandan in an attempt to address his community's needs. Grassroots development.
A Holy Hat Trick
This past weekend we hit all three major Judea-Christian religions. Since Peace Kawomera, the fair trade coffee co-op we visited, is a multifaith group, we decided to participate in all three religions' prayer sessions.
We got things going on Friday when we participated in the 2 o'clock prayers at the Mosque. Men and women were separated. We sat in the back of the mosque, separated from the men by a sheet. We all donned our hijabs (head coverings) and entered the mosque. I don't think Islam is for me due to the sheer discomfort I experienced sitting on the hard floor and well overheated from making sure my entire body was covered with clothing. We, of course, understood nothing that occurred as it was conducted in Luganda and Lugisu as well as Arabic for the prayers. But the women encouraged us to go through the movements with them. I've never done that before, so that was interesting.
There were many memorable quotes and moments from this experience. For instance, one baby started screaming at the top of its lungs when Elaine looked and smiled at it. This was rather disruptive of the prayers/sermon going on in the men's section. When the prayers and speeches were finally over and we were able to leave the mosque, the women all began talking to us in full-out Lugisu and we couldn't understand a word of it. The antidote to this was the child that came up to us and yelled loudly in our faces, 'Howayou?' (How are you?) He would shriek and run away when you responded. Despite my physical discomfort, it was nice to share this holy day with the Muslim community, especially since I never made it into a mosque during my time in Senegal.
On Saturday, we joined the Abayudaya (literally, the Sons of Judah, a Jewish community) for morning services. This was an extraordinary experience. It was incredible to watch them don their talit and beautiful woven kippot. Judaism was a major missing element for me while I was in Senegal, but here I was with Africans saying familiar prayers. I love that prayers are universal. Sometimes the melodies differed or they sang prayers and psalms in Lugisu, but certainly ones like the Shemah and Aleinu were to the same tune I grew up singing. It is incredible to share these prayers with Jews across the world, even in remote Uganda.
It was a long service. Their rabbi was actually just ordained in the US at the conservative rabbinical college. They chanted 8 aliyahs from the parsha compared to the standard 5. What was particularly meaningful for me was that the Torah portion was the very same portion from which I chanted for my Bat Mitzvah. So I heard the very same verses I chanted 9 years ago repeated in Uganda. I never would've thunk it!
The parsha was Pinchas in Numbers. At the end of the portion, is the story of the daughters of Tzelophechad (sp). Briefly, these daughters did not receive their father's land when he died and instead it was passed on to distant male relatives. They didn't think this was fair, so they took the issue to Moses, who took the issue to God, who decided that yes, the women were correct, they ought to receive their father's land. It was a major victory for women in the Old Testament.
The Rabbi did his D'var Tarah on this story. He told the women in the synagogue that they could and should stand up for themselves if they thought something was unfair. He also told the men that they needed to listen and do their part to treat women fairly. He cited the example of his grandfather who called for an end to the custom by which women were not allowed to eat chicken because it was a delicacy. Now everyone eats it. It was an example that change is possible. They served chicken for lunch. :)
It was inspiring to sit there and listen to the rabbi's message in a society that is typically oppressive to women. How empowering! I hope the girls heard him loud and clear, though sadly it did not look as though any of them were paying attention. Oh well. Change begins slowly, I suppose.
To complete the hat trick, we went to church on Sunday. Here I did not understand a single thing because the service was conducted in Lugisu. I busied myself reading a bit of the Bible and studying the map on the inside cover. The service began with a hymn sung to the tune of 'Oh my darling.' It lasted for 2 hours and was followed by an hour of speeches. The Ugandans certainly do love their speeches. Even Brant was asked to go up and give a mini-sermon.
All of the houses of prayer were quite modest. However, the Abayudaya are experiencing an interesting phenomenon. Western Jewish organizations are pouring resources into this community and fighting to 'claim' the Abayudaya. This makes me furious. It is way too reminiscent of colonialism. In addition, it is causing tensions with neighboring villages that have not received the same financial support. It's hard to know where to draw the line with financial support. Because on the other hand, it's incredible that their rabbi was able to attend Rabbinical school in the States.
It was truly exceptional to share Shabbat with the Abayudaya. And I appreciate the gesture our group made by visiting with all three religious groups.
I'd like to end with a beautiful metaphor J.J., a Jewish co-founder of Peace Kawomera, made. As he toured us through his gardens he told us coffee was the perfect metaphor for peace. He explained that it grows best when surrounded by other plants. Together all the plants coexist. Their coffee co-op teaches the rest of the world an important lesson about coexistence, collaboration, and cooperation.
We got things going on Friday when we participated in the 2 o'clock prayers at the Mosque. Men and women were separated. We sat in the back of the mosque, separated from the men by a sheet. We all donned our hijabs (head coverings) and entered the mosque. I don't think Islam is for me due to the sheer discomfort I experienced sitting on the hard floor and well overheated from making sure my entire body was covered with clothing. We, of course, understood nothing that occurred as it was conducted in Luganda and Lugisu as well as Arabic for the prayers. But the women encouraged us to go through the movements with them. I've never done that before, so that was interesting.
There were many memorable quotes and moments from this experience. For instance, one baby started screaming at the top of its lungs when Elaine looked and smiled at it. This was rather disruptive of the prayers/sermon going on in the men's section. When the prayers and speeches were finally over and we were able to leave the mosque, the women all began talking to us in full-out Lugisu and we couldn't understand a word of it. The antidote to this was the child that came up to us and yelled loudly in our faces, 'Howayou?' (How are you?) He would shriek and run away when you responded. Despite my physical discomfort, it was nice to share this holy day with the Muslim community, especially since I never made it into a mosque during my time in Senegal.
On Saturday, we joined the Abayudaya (literally, the Sons of Judah, a Jewish community) for morning services. This was an extraordinary experience. It was incredible to watch them don their talit and beautiful woven kippot. Judaism was a major missing element for me while I was in Senegal, but here I was with Africans saying familiar prayers. I love that prayers are universal. Sometimes the melodies differed or they sang prayers and psalms in Lugisu, but certainly ones like the Shemah and Aleinu were to the same tune I grew up singing. It is incredible to share these prayers with Jews across the world, even in remote Uganda.
It was a long service. Their rabbi was actually just ordained in the US at the conservative rabbinical college. They chanted 8 aliyahs from the parsha compared to the standard 5. What was particularly meaningful for me was that the Torah portion was the very same portion from which I chanted for my Bat Mitzvah. So I heard the very same verses I chanted 9 years ago repeated in Uganda. I never would've thunk it!
The parsha was Pinchas in Numbers. At the end of the portion, is the story of the daughters of Tzelophechad (sp). Briefly, these daughters did not receive their father's land when he died and instead it was passed on to distant male relatives. They didn't think this was fair, so they took the issue to Moses, who took the issue to God, who decided that yes, the women were correct, they ought to receive their father's land. It was a major victory for women in the Old Testament.
The Rabbi did his D'var Tarah on this story. He told the women in the synagogue that they could and should stand up for themselves if they thought something was unfair. He also told the men that they needed to listen and do their part to treat women fairly. He cited the example of his grandfather who called for an end to the custom by which women were not allowed to eat chicken because it was a delicacy. Now everyone eats it. It was an example that change is possible. They served chicken for lunch. :)
It was inspiring to sit there and listen to the rabbi's message in a society that is typically oppressive to women. How empowering! I hope the girls heard him loud and clear, though sadly it did not look as though any of them were paying attention. Oh well. Change begins slowly, I suppose.
To complete the hat trick, we went to church on Sunday. Here I did not understand a single thing because the service was conducted in Lugisu. I busied myself reading a bit of the Bible and studying the map on the inside cover. The service began with a hymn sung to the tune of 'Oh my darling.' It lasted for 2 hours and was followed by an hour of speeches. The Ugandans certainly do love their speeches. Even Brant was asked to go up and give a mini-sermon.
All of the houses of prayer were quite modest. However, the Abayudaya are experiencing an interesting phenomenon. Western Jewish organizations are pouring resources into this community and fighting to 'claim' the Abayudaya. This makes me furious. It is way too reminiscent of colonialism. In addition, it is causing tensions with neighboring villages that have not received the same financial support. It's hard to know where to draw the line with financial support. Because on the other hand, it's incredible that their rabbi was able to attend Rabbinical school in the States.
It was truly exceptional to share Shabbat with the Abayudaya. And I appreciate the gesture our group made by visiting with all three religious groups.
I'd like to end with a beautiful metaphor J.J., a Jewish co-founder of Peace Kawomera, made. As he toured us through his gardens he told us coffee was the perfect metaphor for peace. He explained that it grows best when surrounded by other plants. Together all the plants coexist. Their coffee co-op teaches the rest of the world an important lesson about coexistence, collaboration, and cooperation.
Monday, July 21, 2008
The Story of Coffee
There are so many stories to tell from our time in Uganda, but one of them is the story of coffee.
We have spent the past several days with Peace Kawomera, a fair trade coffee co-op in the Mbale region. Their coffee is distributed through Thanksgiving Coffee. You should all buy it!! Go to www.mirembekawomera.com to read more and order your fair trade coffee today.
In any event, we've learned the entire process through which the original berries pass before they arrive in your coffee cup on an early morning. (I hope to add pictures to this so you can see the process too.)
The the berries grow on short trees. They ripen at different times so the harvest lasts five months. This makes coffee cultivation very labor intensive. You pick the berries. We spent an hour yesterday doing this. Then they must be pulped to remove the fruit and get to the seed inside. The co-op has just invested in fuel-operated pulper, which can handle 15000 kilos/day. This is much more efficient than the hand-pulpers farmers had to use previously. The fruit shell is then composted and returned to the farmer for fertilizer.
After being pulped, the seeds are fermented and washed to remove the slimy layer. Then they are dried in the sun for several days. At this point, the parchment layer of the bean must be removed. (This layer is much like the outer layer of a soybean. That's how I think of it.) They outsource this job to a local mill. The process is called milling, shockingly enough. A giant machine peels off the fine layer around the bean and then sorts the beans according to their grade (the size).
These beans are transfered to a conveyor belt where women stand on both sides and pick out the defected beans. These are sold and roasted locally or put into instant coffees. Yay for NesCafe!!
Finally the beans are ready for roasting. They are shipped to Thanksgiving Coffee in California to be roasted, packaged and distributed. Only step left is to grind the beans and run them through the coffee maker. And voila, you have a delicious cup of fair trade coffee.
I found this process to be much more complicated than I would have previously thought. But it's good to know the story behind such a widely consumed product.
Though the roasting is done in California, they have a small-scale roaster at their warehouse where they sample the beans and coffee to make sure the product is good. We got to do a tasting of 4 different coffees; they varied from light to dark roasts. It was good. I preferred the second darkest and the lightest, in case you were wondering.
In any event, it's been great to learn about the fair trade process. Peace Kawomera sells organic and inorganic beans, but they are trying to encourage more of their farmers to go organic. The co-op buys beans from 705 farmers. On the regular market, a kilo sells for 800 Ugandan schillings ($.50), but with fair trade they are purchased at 32000 schillings ($2). So you can see that this makes a HUGE difference in a local, small-scale farmer's life.
After the initial purchase of beans, the co-op continues to generate income for the farmers. If the co-op makes a profit when it sells its beans to Thanksgiving Coffee, they return this money to the farmers. (Well actually, they sell to a regional co-op that buys from 10 other co-ops in the areas, before the beans are finally sold to Thanksgiving.) The organic farmers get a higher return than do the inorganic farmers. This is an incentive for them to change to organic. Additionally, Thanksgiving Coffee gives back a dollar for every pound they sell. The co-op also saves some of its money to reinvest in the community. For example, tomorrow we are going to visit a school they've in which they've invested. They also save some for their own business. For example they are building a new office complex and store room. They also plan on developing a seedling nursery to help the farmers increase their production.
So, please please buy fair trade coffee and especially Peace Kawomera coffee. Elias, one of the co-op board members showed us the house he was able to build for his family with the increased revenue from fair trade. He said before they were all living in a small hut. I've seen first hand the huge impact the fair trade coffee market has on small-scale farmers. It's really remarkable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story!
We have spent the past several days with Peace Kawomera, a fair trade coffee co-op in the Mbale region. Their coffee is distributed through Thanksgiving Coffee. You should all buy it!! Go to www.mirembekawomera.com to read more and order your fair trade coffee today.
In any event, we've learned the entire process through which the original berries pass before they arrive in your coffee cup on an early morning. (I hope to add pictures to this so you can see the process too.)
The the berries grow on short trees. They ripen at different times so the harvest lasts five months. This makes coffee cultivation very labor intensive. You pick the berries. We spent an hour yesterday doing this. Then they must be pulped to remove the fruit and get to the seed inside. The co-op has just invested in fuel-operated pulper, which can handle 15000 kilos/day. This is much more efficient than the hand-pulpers farmers had to use previously. The fruit shell is then composted and returned to the farmer for fertilizer.
After being pulped, the seeds are fermented and washed to remove the slimy layer. Then they are dried in the sun for several days. At this point, the parchment layer of the bean must be removed. (This layer is much like the outer layer of a soybean. That's how I think of it.) They outsource this job to a local mill. The process is called milling, shockingly enough. A giant machine peels off the fine layer around the bean and then sorts the beans according to their grade (the size).
These beans are transfered to a conveyor belt where women stand on both sides and pick out the defected beans. These are sold and roasted locally or put into instant coffees. Yay for NesCafe!!
Finally the beans are ready for roasting. They are shipped to Thanksgiving Coffee in California to be roasted, packaged and distributed. Only step left is to grind the beans and run them through the coffee maker. And voila, you have a delicious cup of fair trade coffee.
I found this process to be much more complicated than I would have previously thought. But it's good to know the story behind such a widely consumed product.
Though the roasting is done in California, they have a small-scale roaster at their warehouse where they sample the beans and coffee to make sure the product is good. We got to do a tasting of 4 different coffees; they varied from light to dark roasts. It was good. I preferred the second darkest and the lightest, in case you were wondering.
In any event, it's been great to learn about the fair trade process. Peace Kawomera sells organic and inorganic beans, but they are trying to encourage more of their farmers to go organic. The co-op buys beans from 705 farmers. On the regular market, a kilo sells for 800 Ugandan schillings ($.50), but with fair trade they are purchased at 32000 schillings ($2). So you can see that this makes a HUGE difference in a local, small-scale farmer's life.
After the initial purchase of beans, the co-op continues to generate income for the farmers. If the co-op makes a profit when it sells its beans to Thanksgiving Coffee, they return this money to the farmers. (Well actually, they sell to a regional co-op that buys from 10 other co-ops in the areas, before the beans are finally sold to Thanksgiving.) The organic farmers get a higher return than do the inorganic farmers. This is an incentive for them to change to organic. Additionally, Thanksgiving Coffee gives back a dollar for every pound they sell. The co-op also saves some of its money to reinvest in the community. For example, tomorrow we are going to visit a school they've in which they've invested. They also save some for their own business. For example they are building a new office complex and store room. They also plan on developing a seedling nursery to help the farmers increase their production.
So, please please buy fair trade coffee and especially Peace Kawomera coffee. Elias, one of the co-op board members showed us the house he was able to build for his family with the increased revenue from fair trade. He said before they were all living in a small hut. I've seen first hand the huge impact the fair trade coffee market has on small-scale farmers. It's really remarkable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story!
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