- DEP student at commencement of Ecology course prior to departing
Put yourself in my shoes for a minute: Daniel Koza's collection of thoughts and stories from adventures both domestic and abroad
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Speechless
"Mr. Daniel, I...and the rest of the class...can not find the words to express to...you...how much we thank you...and have appreciated your time...and energy in teaching us. We can not thank you enough."
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Were You Lost?
So if at anytime I am not in attendance at the staff lounge for tea and lunch...or if I am missing from my office during a day...or if I am not seen around my house for many of those I am come to be associated with I am 'lost.' Maybe I have been in my office and no one has noticed...maybe I am working from home..maybe I have gone down south to Iganga to do research online for some of my projects...maybe I have simply gone in to Kaliro town to the market or to meet with other members of the community, but nonetheless the sentiment if one has not been seen throughout the day is that they have been lost. Now of course this, as with much of what is said, is of direct translation from the mother tounge spoken here being Lusoga (or if in other language regions the sentiment is similar). Now this does not bother me so much, as one of my colleagues at the college explained to me that the reason why the inquire of my whereabouts is that "You are one of our associates now and we care, so if you were to be away some time, and nobody knows where, they we are concerned." This reasoning is definitely appreciative, but at the same time it makes you have the feeling that you are always being watched, and therefore judged by all those around you, which is likely what is happening. With that, I take the judgmental aspect with a grain of salt and hope for the best that there is more emphasis on the care for my well-being, and this being more of a cultural aspect. Things have been going very well for the most part, and time right now seems to be flying by. Having taught the past few weeks I have taken opportunity this week to attempt to get my house in order some-which really has not happened-especially with the two kittens Gizmo and Virtue (Lisa's) running around with their heads cut off in my house. Today-the reason that I am on the internet now-is that I was to head off to a workshop for Secondary School Teachers of Sciences, put on by the Ministry of Education, on newer and more creative methods of teaching sciences in the schools here. Upon arrival, me and the other volunteer Melissa find ourselves...well...there a bit too late. The fact is this workshop began on the 15th of May, but we just received the information on the 20th, therefore we were rushing to make it for the last few days as it was suppose to end on the 23rd. As we walked in to the room, we were warmly greeted, but the unfortunte sentiments came to us of the cancellation of the workshop. Now let me tell you the frustrations...deep deep frustrations...arose when we were first called out of emergence in the morning of the 20th that we were to be attending this workshop. To think that we are to be attending this workshop-made of of probably 98.7% Ugandan teachers and 1.3% Peace Corps Volunteers-more than middway of its completion is completely ridiculous and disrespectful, so the hesitation and frustration and yes, anger was in full rage in the morning of the 20th. So I tied up loose ends, cleaned up a few things, and this morning woke at approximately 5.45AM, to make my way to Iganga from Kaliro. And that is the reason why you all find me here, writing, because the workshop was cancelled due to lack of funding. Therefore all the teachers who were at this conference left...Majority of the funding that is allocated for these conferences is the travel reimbursement for the teachers who have signed up for the conference. So...Teachers come to this conference...They are not refunded for their travel...The teachers, in dire need of educational teaching-style reform leave...Therefore nothing is changed. So where is the problem? (In regards to the educational system here and its inability to push intellectual thinking out of the box) Is it at the highest body, the Ministry of Education? Is it at the lowest with the students? Could it be the parents? The teachers themselves? Could it be that the core of the syllabi have not been changed for ages in this country, and their style is still reminiscent-in detrimental ways-of the British style of education from the 60s and further ago? All of these to an extent are much of the issues. It is a comprehensive problem where much of us struggle to see an honest change.
I did see the potential for change in the eyes of the students I taught. At the end of my last day of teaching the Diversity of Living Things and Classifcation (covering for a teacher that was not in attendace)-the 7.30Am morning after I was doing expediated lesson planning and note preparation for nearly 9 hours-I was commended in the most amazing way possible. As the students slowly began to exit the classroom-a room walled with cement and roofed with tin and rotting wood-two remained behind, gathering their belongings. Each expressed that they were going to miss me, that the next term they hoped to have me as their instructor and that I helped them very much. Then one, casually flipping through his notes stops, looks me in the eyes and in his broken english says "Mr. Daniel, I...and the rest of the class...can not find the words to express to...you...how much we thank you...and have appreciated your time...and energy in teaching us. We can not thank you enough." The most I could say, as I grew teary-eyed departing to my home was "Thank You," leaving a trail of chalk billowing in my path.
I hope all is well with you all back home! Tonight, I shall spend my time watching the Manchester United v Cheseal Football match, and then return to my modern life of proposal writing, eatching lunch (one of the best parts) in the staff room, and teaching whatever I can find. I love you all and I miss you all. And yeah...GO OB!!!!! OB is what they call Barack here, so yeah, I even have my good ol' American Propoganda in my "Vote Barack" pin on my bag. Peace and love.
Cheers,
Daniel Koza
I did see the potential for change in the eyes of the students I taught. At the end of my last day of teaching the Diversity of Living Things and Classifcation (covering for a teacher that was not in attendace)-the 7.30Am morning after I was doing expediated lesson planning and note preparation for nearly 9 hours-I was commended in the most amazing way possible. As the students slowly began to exit the classroom-a room walled with cement and roofed with tin and rotting wood-two remained behind, gathering their belongings. Each expressed that they were going to miss me, that the next term they hoped to have me as their instructor and that I helped them very much. Then one, casually flipping through his notes stops, looks me in the eyes and in his broken english says "Mr. Daniel, I...and the rest of the class...can not find the words to express to...you...how much we thank you...and have appreciated your time...and energy in teaching us. We can not thank you enough." The most I could say, as I grew teary-eyed departing to my home was "Thank You," leaving a trail of chalk billowing in my path.
I hope all is well with you all back home! Tonight, I shall spend my time watching the Manchester United v Cheseal Football match, and then return to my modern life of proposal writing, eatching lunch (one of the best parts) in the staff room, and teaching whatever I can find. I love you all and I miss you all. And yeah...GO OB!!!!! OB is what they call Barack here, so yeah, I even have my good ol' American Propoganda in my "Vote Barack" pin on my bag. Peace and love.
Cheers,
Daniel Koza
Thursday, May 1, 2008
May Day
I'd like to say that I am filled with unconventional wisdom for the rest of the populace to tap in to; I'd like to imagine myself on stage as the focal point of a hit show; I'd like to believe that each and every star I cast my eyes upon each evening has as solar system of its own not so different from ours, and I choose to have enough confidence in myself to convince myself that the latter are not simply blanket desires, instead reality...
****************
Young boy, I thank you for the biscuit. Where you acquired your manners I do not know. Where you learned to smile on of the most genuine smilse I will never know. But again I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for all that you have done thus far in your short life. You remind me of myself-young and curious in this world-not too many years ago.
-Webale, the young boy said.
-Kale, I say in response, garnering a nervous if not awe-filled laugh from the boy.
Young boy I truly hope you can take this poisoned world and turn it good. The undeserved ignorance that has plagued not only yoru land but many othrse shall be an obstacle not easily overcome, but I can only hope this moment in your life inspires you to know. There is a day in my memory from nearly 20 years ago where I stood, face buried in a rusty chain-linked fence, gazing at airplanes taking off and landing. I was a pre-kindergartener, taking my recess to let my my wander over these large obnoxious machines, rather than partake in a game of four square or kickball. Spurring my curiousity, this catalytical moment has brought me through Australasia and now to Africa. I tell you though, having curiousity is only a piece of the puzzle-let us say merely the endless blue sky of a scenic picture-as searching for the meaning of this curiosity is where this world begins.
-Mpaku Eagle, nnyabo.
-Eagle?
-Yi. Webale.
-Kale.
Letting my own mind wander, staring out this barred canteen window, I find a life that I have simply...
Well my train of thought has been derailed worse than...well I can't think of any well known train derailment, but I assume you understand. Now the cause of this terrible loss in concentraion is due to the canteen owner's young daughter, who no doubt could see me from miles away (well I guess most Ugandans could, because, uhh, I'm white?) has chosen to take any and every effort imagineable to talk to and see me...
-Osibye oty'eyo, I asked.
-Bulungi, responded the young man staring at me from 4 inches away through the barred window. Osibye oty'eyo?
-Bulungi. Jebale I say.
-Kale, wena jebale.
-Kale ssebo.
And yes, you see how no matter how hard one tries to have their own piece of mind (while in public) is I must say a sure failure.
Young boy, you must realise something. Take a look around you. You see the man pulling the goat? The three boda drivers next to the tree? The chickens walking through the bush? You have been privelaged with an incredibly unique life, and you have seen me and with my best hopes wish that you have an eternal line of questions racing through your mind of why or what this muzungu is doing here, and hopefully t6hat is yoru ticket towards fighting ignorance. Run young boy, take your eswiti I gave you and on't change who you are, because yoru mind is so beautiful and open to new and amazing things.
Now Margaret, canteen owner's daughter, I do not even know how to satisfy anything you say...If I teach you something i teach you, if your mind has become corrupt to outsie teaching, especially by the thoughts that muzungus will save the world, then I fear to become a friend. Young boy; canteen owner's daughter; boy who ruined my concentration by starting at me from 4 inches away, just take this with you: To think is to live, to live is to love. And think for yourself and don't let anyone else tell you how or what to think. Believe that you have the ability to change somebody's-anybody's- life, and you shall smile everyday as you do when you see a muzungu.
EAGLE...rain?...maize...EAGLE...Yes, in a nutshell the progression of the past hour, with the whole lot of previous garbage being sandwhiched somewhere in the middle. And yes, it had to only rain for 2 minutes, and I have a full beer now, and all I want to do is go home, light my gas stove, and concoct some dinner involving eggs, cabbage, eggplant and tomatoes. In essence an omelet, but something more interesting is very much desired. But for now, I will struggle through this beer-not because it tastes bad, or because I have had too many or because I have an audience of 7 people watching me (which I do)-but because my simple couch, while listending to Chrias Koza's ne walbum and eating an omelet seems far more appealing. And to that, cheers, so I may take my last sip, and exit this alternate universe of the young boy, boy who ruined my concentration and teh canteen owner's daughter.
****************
Young boy, I thank you for the biscuit. Where you acquired your manners I do not know. Where you learned to smile on of the most genuine smilse I will never know. But again I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for all that you have done thus far in your short life. You remind me of myself-young and curious in this world-not too many years ago.
-Webale, the young boy said.
-Kale, I say in response, garnering a nervous if not awe-filled laugh from the boy.
Young boy I truly hope you can take this poisoned world and turn it good. The undeserved ignorance that has plagued not only yoru land but many othrse shall be an obstacle not easily overcome, but I can only hope this moment in your life inspires you to know. There is a day in my memory from nearly 20 years ago where I stood, face buried in a rusty chain-linked fence, gazing at airplanes taking off and landing. I was a pre-kindergartener, taking my recess to let my my wander over these large obnoxious machines, rather than partake in a game of four square or kickball. Spurring my curiousity, this catalytical moment has brought me through Australasia and now to Africa. I tell you though, having curiousity is only a piece of the puzzle-let us say merely the endless blue sky of a scenic picture-as searching for the meaning of this curiosity is where this world begins.
-Mpaku Eagle, nnyabo.
-Eagle?
-Yi. Webale.
-Kale.
Letting my own mind wander, staring out this barred canteen window, I find a life that I have simply...
Well my train of thought has been derailed worse than...well I can't think of any well known train derailment, but I assume you understand. Now the cause of this terrible loss in concentraion is due to the canteen owner's young daughter, who no doubt could see me from miles away (well I guess most Ugandans could, because, uhh, I'm white?) has chosen to take any and every effort imagineable to talk to and see me...
-Osibye oty'eyo, I asked.
-Bulungi, responded the young man staring at me from 4 inches away through the barred window. Osibye oty'eyo?
-Bulungi. Jebale I say.
-Kale, wena jebale.
-Kale ssebo.
And yes, you see how no matter how hard one tries to have their own piece of mind (while in public) is I must say a sure failure.
Young boy, you must realise something. Take a look around you. You see the man pulling the goat? The three boda drivers next to the tree? The chickens walking through the bush? You have been privelaged with an incredibly unique life, and you have seen me and with my best hopes wish that you have an eternal line of questions racing through your mind of why or what this muzungu is doing here, and hopefully t6hat is yoru ticket towards fighting ignorance. Run young boy, take your eswiti I gave you and on't change who you are, because yoru mind is so beautiful and open to new and amazing things.
Now Margaret, canteen owner's daughter, I do not even know how to satisfy anything you say...If I teach you something i teach you, if your mind has become corrupt to outsie teaching, especially by the thoughts that muzungus will save the world, then I fear to become a friend. Young boy; canteen owner's daughter; boy who ruined my concentration by starting at me from 4 inches away, just take this with you: To think is to live, to live is to love. And think for yourself and don't let anyone else tell you how or what to think. Believe that you have the ability to change somebody's-anybody's- life, and you shall smile everyday as you do when you see a muzungu.
EAGLE...rain?...maize...EAGLE...Yes, in a nutshell the progression of the past hour, with the whole lot of previous garbage being sandwhiched somewhere in the middle. And yes, it had to only rain for 2 minutes, and I have a full beer now, and all I want to do is go home, light my gas stove, and concoct some dinner involving eggs, cabbage, eggplant and tomatoes. In essence an omelet, but something more interesting is very much desired. But for now, I will struggle through this beer-not because it tastes bad, or because I have had too many or because I have an audience of 7 people watching me (which I do)-but because my simple couch, while listending to Chrias Koza's ne walbum and eating an omelet seems far more appealing. And to that, cheers, so I may take my last sip, and exit this alternate universe of the young boy, boy who ruined my concentration and teh canteen owner's daughter.
Monday, April 28, 2008
"Straight to Video"
Shout out to my brother Christopher Koza and his band as I am sitting here writing this and listening to his new CD which I just received here in the mail in Uganda...yes, Chris Koza even has his music as international as Africa....So that means anyone who reads this, go to http://www.chriskoza.com/ and pick up a CD...Anyways, on to Peace Corps now...
<--Myself, greasy as after a long day with my little brother Hassan and Namakula at homestay
Having spent these past few weeks-post training- to get accustomed to life on my own and in a new environment has been grueling and difficult at times, but also a blessing in truly realising how adaptable the human species is...Although individual personality is also a key attribute in determining one's ability to adapt, in essence it amazes me what we as a species are truly capable of. True I still hold many ammenities with me from me that I have taken here as well as photos on my wall to remind me of my life thus far, but to be able to move 7,684 miles away to a truly different (yet clearly livable) world is an incredible and daring feat in itself. I have met many incredible people over these past few months, and while I dearly miss all of you back home, these relationships are truly my lifeline...The stresses that overtake one's mind in being ask for candy dozens of times a day by the same children or being glared at by a local (honestly though most of the time just a simple wave brings the biggest smile!) is often followed by a text or call to another PCV to gain confidence in oneself again. Living in Kaliro has been an experience in itself. The town is rather small, which makes it incredibly easy to walk through in a matter of a few minutes and see every member of town, often sitting in their dooka (store) selling the same exact thing at the same exact price as another 10 metres away. I walk a gorgeous walk everyday and find amazement in the fact that I could easily go hours without speaking English. Although my Lusoga reminds me of my family's Japanese exchange student Ikko trying to speak English when I was young, it invigorates me to have at least a complete greeting and short question and answer in a different language, and the Ugandan people absolutely love this! Some of the greatest smiles come when you surprise a Ugandan in speaking their mother toungue and that also brings out one of the biggest smiles I could have here.
I will leave this at that, and will hopefully post in a week or so again. One other note though, I have a new postal address now, so SEND ME MAIL to:
Daniel Koza
c/o Lisa Balland
PO Box 161
Kaliro, Uganda
Also be sure to write Air Mail and Par Avion on it, and also write RELIGIOUS MATERIALS and draw a cross or something on it! Good chance it will arrive with less trouble faster!
Well until then peace and love from Uganda to yo all, and I miss you all!
Here is a little poem for you all:
For the moment each and every star
Is their for your own unique dream
In 500 years maybe some other truth
Will change what we hold true
But for the time now and even then
As living is so short and often a battle
Take every smile and every fright
To heart as what makes this
World so beautiful and evolutionarily
Tangible to each and every being
Forgetting who you are will not be
The end of it all but just remember
That someone, 7684 miles away from you,
Is thinking about you and loves you...
Having spent these past few weeks-post training- to get accustomed to life on my own and in a new environment has been grueling and difficult at times, but also a blessing in truly realising how adaptable the human species is...Although individual personality is also a key attribute in determining one's ability to adapt, in essence it amazes me what we as a species are truly capable of. True I still hold many ammenities with me from me that I have taken here as well as photos on my wall to remind me of my life thus far, but to be able to move 7,684 miles away to a truly different (yet clearly livable) world is an incredible and daring feat in itself. I have met many incredible people over these past few months, and while I dearly miss all of you back home, these relationships are truly my lifeline...The stresses that overtake one's mind in being ask for candy dozens of times a day by the same children or being glared at by a local (honestly though most of the time just a simple wave brings the biggest smile!) is often followed by a text or call to another PCV to gain confidence in oneself again. Living in Kaliro has been an experience in itself. The town is rather small, which makes it incredibly easy to walk through in a matter of a few minutes and see every member of town, often sitting in their dooka (store) selling the same exact thing at the same exact price as another 10 metres away. I walk a gorgeous walk everyday and find amazement in the fact that I could easily go hours without speaking English. Although my Lusoga reminds me of my family's Japanese exchange student Ikko trying to speak English when I was young, it invigorates me to have at least a complete greeting and short question and answer in a different language, and the Ugandan people absolutely love this! Some of the greatest smiles come when you surprise a Ugandan in speaking their mother toungue and that also brings out one of the biggest smiles I could have here.
I will leave this at that, and will hopefully post in a week or so again. One other note though, I have a new postal address now, so SEND ME MAIL to:
Daniel Koza
c/o Lisa Balland
PO Box 161
Kaliro, Uganda
Also be sure to write Air Mail and Par Avion on it, and also write RELIGIOUS MATERIALS and draw a cross or something on it! Good chance it will arrive with less trouble faster!
Well until then peace and love from Uganda to yo all, and I miss you all!
Here is a little poem for you all:
For the moment each and every star
Is their for your own unique dream
In 500 years maybe some other truth
Will change what we hold true
But for the time now and even then
As living is so short and often a battle
Take every smile and every fright
To heart as what makes this
World so beautiful and evolutionarily
Tangible to each and every being
Forgetting who you are will not be
The end of it all but just remember
That someone, 7684 miles away from you,
Is thinking about you and loves you...
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Urine...Cow Puddles of Mysterious Substances...Cow Dung...Mud
Quote For Zen: "Keep the motion in picture or else there'll be little for you to hold on to."
- Jet's "Hold On"
Quote For Humour: "My bag smells like a fart!"
- Another volunteer, taking notice how is bag smelled bad, and
who knows why it smelled bad?? The mysteries of life...
First a wee little disclaimer: Not having internet on a regualr basis by all means makes it rather difficult to get good announcements out to you all and makes it difficult for me to have a clear mind of thoughts to get out to you all. I intended to load a few pictures on here so you could all see me with my Rastafarian dreads, having lost 50 lbs and cooking in a pit in the ground (which you would not see anyways even if I had pictures because this is not the truth...) but I haplessly left any pictorial resources at my site which is approximately an house taxi ride from my current location. ALSO I do have a new address, but that has been left at site as well...therefore I will get those out early in this week; i.e. I will commute 2 hours roundtrip not including wait time for taxi simply to send you all my address and show you the beautiful me!
Okay, now to some good ol' dirt on myself Ugandan-style.....
Having not written for nearly a month on here and lacking the mental capactiy to remember if I emailed any mass messages out to you all, some information that I spill out to you could be a repeat, but bear with me as the majority of info is new, and for the most part follows chronological order from a month ago...
So yes, life is odd and filled with many moments that I have come to call 'African Moments'(AM). By my own definition an 'African Moment' is: any moment in a day when an event, or series of events, causes one to reflect back momentarily on this situation, and when comparing to the rest of their life, the realisation occurs that the only time this could or has ever occurred is in Africa. So the first AM I wish to mention is one in which I might of already written of, but is of great importance in my growth as a person and in knowing when sh** hits the fan that one just has to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride of life.
**AM1**--Prior to leaving a restaurant in town I went to the latrine to urinate and without power and the ability to see, I proceeded (of course by accident) to urinate on my feet while wearing my Chacos. Half-heartedly disgusted I began to walk home, soon to encounter in the blinding light of head-on traffic a large puddle containing many fluids of unknown origin and the thoughts of these fluids making there way in to any sores and pores on my feet made me stop and take a deep breath. Not more than 5 minutes later I find myself landing my right foot deep in to the nice relatively-fresh cow pie and then not more than 5 minutes after this I find myself slipping, backside down in to a puddle of mud...This has come to be an accepted series of events that hardly takes any ounce of shock but more awe and laughter out of ones mind.
So in summary, the past few weeks I was given an opportunity to visit my future site, which is in a small town and I will be teaching at the school. Visiting the town, and being away from training was definitely a blessing. Training is good, it has given myself and many other volunteers to experience many facets of Ugandan life and culture, but this visit to my future site was an eye-opening experience to view my future home and good just to get away. Living with the homestay and training was good, like I said, but deep back in my mind I knew that it was only temporary, so the pains of working through an 8 week training that was often wrought with stress and confusion and cultural clashes (in the most educative sense of the phrase) made visiting the future site all the more important. The experience of riding in the matatus, or taxis, has become to be an experience (not exactly an AM) that would be more in line with simply living. Each time I take a taxi, I squish in as far as a can to the point where my body will be immobile for however long the ride is (30 minutes to maybe 5 hours) and go to my happy place, my place of Zen and eternal thought, and wait until I have arrived at my destination. So in a nutshell, visiting my future site (and now my home for the next 2 years) was good for the mind body and soul, not to be cheesy, to successfully not flip out during training....even though I and everyother volunteer probably did at least once!
Training wound down quite fast, with each day being filled somehow whether or not one even felt like they were doing anything. It was sad to leave homestay even though it was very stressful at times, it was by all means an incredibly important experience to help in being integrated in to the culture. The last few days with the staff and volunteers was bittersweet though, as we had all grown over the past few months to become the closest of friends and in a matter of a single afternoon we were all whisked away to our new homes, new jobs, and new friends (to be made). Of course we will always have our European Vacation in Brussels and our past 8 weeks in training, life as we all knew it was about to change. It felt like the last day of freshman year of college when everyone was going back home, there parents (our supervisors for our new sites) were there with their cars to pack all of our belongings, and we left waving, saying see you in a few months! Prior to our leaving though, our last weekend had a great event, with all of our host families and us at the training centre, as one big hurrah and thank you for the time and energy spent making us feel at home. This afternoon was spent with dancing (per language group, which I will get pictures on here eventually) and speeches made. I had the great embarassing honour of singing the United States National Anthem at this event, laughing and smiling as I struggled through the words that should be engrained in my mind. Our language class did a local dance, as well as many of the other groups, and we sadly said goodbyes to many of the families we had come to know over the past weeks. The last few days of training were spent doing a last bit of logistical work in Kampala, visiting the Peace Corps office, the US Embassy and shopping for items for our sites...and to be honest, just spending as much time as well could with all of our new friends until we left...Being at the US Embassy was like being blasted back in to the states...Proper flush toilets and sinks and paper towel and coffee and marble floors and other muzungas and the list goes on...Quite strange to say the least. Our swearing in event, where we were all officially sworn in was held at the Ambassadors house, along with all of our supervisors and Peace Corps staff. Of coruse, again I was the one, requested about 30 minutes for the event to sing the National Anthem (along with another volunteer), and then the morning proceeded with the ceremony and we became official!!!! The next 2 years of life was beginning...
Okay...yeah, I would be bored to reading this blog, so I will supply you with one more humouress anecdote before I continue on with my life-story...
**AM2**--So this just happened about 5 days ago. After a day of community integration at my site, i.e. taking my 35 minute walk in to town, buying a few items, struggling with language and walking back home, I was struggling with the concept of being away for 2 years...Mild cases of homesickness tend to work themselves in to the day, but sometimes things are so busy it jsut gets bottled up until one big moment. So this day was a particularily busy day. I had gotten up early to assist the Science students with a computer class. They were writing projects for admission in to University, and many of their computer skills are lacking, so I happily offerred to help. After doing this for a few hours, I trekked across the village about 30 minutes to assist the other volunteer in town with ridding her bed, etc. of bed bugs by spraying the items down with Doom and lying them out in the sun. After spending a bit of time doing this and making another trip in to town to get a few items, it was time to return home to my site. Of course every walk through town, or in this country for that matter a muzunga is a spectacle, especially though in the village children are found running up to grab you as you attempt to speak in local language. Arriving home it was about time to play basketball with the students at the school, which I have begun to do. Now at home, in the States, everyone should know my basketball skills are quite lacking, but here, I felt like a god of basketball...Nonetheless after an our of sweating constantly and having dust kicked up from the dirt court, I returned home, ready for dinner. I boiled some water for tea and for drinking, and scooped a nice heaping spoonful of honey in to my tea. As I licked off the side of the jar I realised there was something chunky in my mouth. Lookin in to the cap of the jar I see dozens of ants crawling around. I proceed then to throw the honey down, squirt hand sanitiser in to my hands and then lick my hands in attempts to santise my mouth. I then proceeded to add a shot to my tea in disgust of the experience and in efforts to cleanse my mouth and stomach...I sat on my outside step, drinking my spiked tea and rubbing my face in hair, covered, in dirt, sweat and grime from an average day in Uganda. No matter how average this experience felt, it was still an 'African Moment' as I never would have or could have imagined occurring in my life prior.
So I just wrote a lot more than I thought, so I will quickly piece the past week together. I have been an officail volunteer since April 10th, 2008 now. So approximately 10 days down and I am feeling pretty good. The majority of these first few months will be community integration and scoping out secondary projects, so at times, even in the past week, the thought of confusion and being lost has been a primary thought. Finally having an opportunity to settle down in what is 'home' has been very good. I now have a place of my own, a community to learn and grow with, and a place to call work. Life, although moving slower than it ever has before, has begun to take on much new meaning. Everyday is filled with a mixture of speaking English and speaking Lusoga. Filled with assessment of possible projects and wondering what to do with ones self. Filled with laughter and crying. Any emotion imagineable is present. It has been odd being away from all the volunteers that I came to know and love, but also it has been refreshing finally coming to a place to live amongst the culture as your own entity. Starting this next school term, so in approximately one month, I will begin to teach Microbiology and Biotechnology. I will also be assisting with computer classes for the students as well as helping the Department of Music. I recently attended an Athletics (Track and Field ) competition at the school, and I expressed and showed knowledge in the throwing of discus, javelin, and shotput, so there are hopes that I could be of assistance with the Department of Athletics as well as potentially coaching students in Basketball. These are only a few of the opportunities, in a matter of the past 10 days that I have sought out...And these are only at the school level...Yes, there will be days of non-activity, or simply sitting at home moping, an doing laundry, but clearly the opportunity is there to be amongst the community, making a difference one by one in the lives of people here in Uganda.
Okay, I fear this post has been too long, so even though my mind is racing to tell you as much as possible, I shall stop.
I know I have expressed before, but if you have any questions at all then ask me, and I will as my best attempts respond on here. Peace and love and go Daniel Koza, yeah me!!!
- Jet's "Hold On"
Quote For Humour: "My bag smells like a fart!"
- Another volunteer, taking notice how is bag smelled bad, and
who knows why it smelled bad?? The mysteries of life...
First a wee little disclaimer: Not having internet on a regualr basis by all means makes it rather difficult to get good announcements out to you all and makes it difficult for me to have a clear mind of thoughts to get out to you all. I intended to load a few pictures on here so you could all see me with my Rastafarian dreads, having lost 50 lbs and cooking in a pit in the ground (which you would not see anyways even if I had pictures because this is not the truth...) but I haplessly left any pictorial resources at my site which is approximately an house taxi ride from my current location. ALSO I do have a new address, but that has been left at site as well...therefore I will get those out early in this week; i.e. I will commute 2 hours roundtrip not including wait time for taxi simply to send you all my address and show you the beautiful me!
Okay, now to some good ol' dirt on myself Ugandan-style.....
Having not written for nearly a month on here and lacking the mental capactiy to remember if I emailed any mass messages out to you all, some information that I spill out to you could be a repeat, but bear with me as the majority of info is new, and for the most part follows chronological order from a month ago...
So yes, life is odd and filled with many moments that I have come to call 'African Moments'(AM). By my own definition an 'African Moment' is: any moment in a day when an event, or series of events, causes one to reflect back momentarily on this situation, and when comparing to the rest of their life, the realisation occurs that the only time this could or has ever occurred is in Africa. So the first AM I wish to mention is one in which I might of already written of, but is of great importance in my growth as a person and in knowing when sh** hits the fan that one just has to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride of life.
**AM1**--Prior to leaving a restaurant in town I went to the latrine to urinate and without power and the ability to see, I proceeded (of course by accident) to urinate on my feet while wearing my Chacos. Half-heartedly disgusted I began to walk home, soon to encounter in the blinding light of head-on traffic a large puddle containing many fluids of unknown origin and the thoughts of these fluids making there way in to any sores and pores on my feet made me stop and take a deep breath. Not more than 5 minutes later I find myself landing my right foot deep in to the nice relatively-fresh cow pie and then not more than 5 minutes after this I find myself slipping, backside down in to a puddle of mud...This has come to be an accepted series of events that hardly takes any ounce of shock but more awe and laughter out of ones mind.
So in summary, the past few weeks I was given an opportunity to visit my future site, which is in a small town and I will be teaching at the school. Visiting the town, and being away from training was definitely a blessing. Training is good, it has given myself and many other volunteers to experience many facets of Ugandan life and culture, but this visit to my future site was an eye-opening experience to view my future home and good just to get away. Living with the homestay and training was good, like I said, but deep back in my mind I knew that it was only temporary, so the pains of working through an 8 week training that was often wrought with stress and confusion and cultural clashes (in the most educative sense of the phrase) made visiting the future site all the more important. The experience of riding in the matatus, or taxis, has become to be an experience (not exactly an AM) that would be more in line with simply living. Each time I take a taxi, I squish in as far as a can to the point where my body will be immobile for however long the ride is (30 minutes to maybe 5 hours) and go to my happy place, my place of Zen and eternal thought, and wait until I have arrived at my destination. So in a nutshell, visiting my future site (and now my home for the next 2 years) was good for the mind body and soul, not to be cheesy, to successfully not flip out during training....even though I and everyother volunteer probably did at least once!
Training wound down quite fast, with each day being filled somehow whether or not one even felt like they were doing anything. It was sad to leave homestay even though it was very stressful at times, it was by all means an incredibly important experience to help in being integrated in to the culture. The last few days with the staff and volunteers was bittersweet though, as we had all grown over the past few months to become the closest of friends and in a matter of a single afternoon we were all whisked away to our new homes, new jobs, and new friends (to be made). Of course we will always have our European Vacation in Brussels and our past 8 weeks in training, life as we all knew it was about to change. It felt like the last day of freshman year of college when everyone was going back home, there parents (our supervisors for our new sites) were there with their cars to pack all of our belongings, and we left waving, saying see you in a few months! Prior to our leaving though, our last weekend had a great event, with all of our host families and us at the training centre, as one big hurrah and thank you for the time and energy spent making us feel at home. This afternoon was spent with dancing (per language group, which I will get pictures on here eventually) and speeches made. I had the great embarassing honour of singing the United States National Anthem at this event, laughing and smiling as I struggled through the words that should be engrained in my mind. Our language class did a local dance, as well as many of the other groups, and we sadly said goodbyes to many of the families we had come to know over the past weeks. The last few days of training were spent doing a last bit of logistical work in Kampala, visiting the Peace Corps office, the US Embassy and shopping for items for our sites...and to be honest, just spending as much time as well could with all of our new friends until we left...Being at the US Embassy was like being blasted back in to the states...Proper flush toilets and sinks and paper towel and coffee and marble floors and other muzungas and the list goes on...Quite strange to say the least. Our swearing in event, where we were all officially sworn in was held at the Ambassadors house, along with all of our supervisors and Peace Corps staff. Of coruse, again I was the one, requested about 30 minutes for the event to sing the National Anthem (along with another volunteer), and then the morning proceeded with the ceremony and we became official!!!! The next 2 years of life was beginning...
Okay...yeah, I would be bored to reading this blog, so I will supply you with one more humouress anecdote before I continue on with my life-story...
**AM2**--So this just happened about 5 days ago. After a day of community integration at my site, i.e. taking my 35 minute walk in to town, buying a few items, struggling with language and walking back home, I was struggling with the concept of being away for 2 years...Mild cases of homesickness tend to work themselves in to the day, but sometimes things are so busy it jsut gets bottled up until one big moment. So this day was a particularily busy day. I had gotten up early to assist the Science students with a computer class. They were writing projects for admission in to University, and many of their computer skills are lacking, so I happily offerred to help. After doing this for a few hours, I trekked across the village about 30 minutes to assist the other volunteer in town with ridding her bed, etc. of bed bugs by spraying the items down with Doom and lying them out in the sun. After spending a bit of time doing this and making another trip in to town to get a few items, it was time to return home to my site. Of course every walk through town, or in this country for that matter a muzunga is a spectacle, especially though in the village children are found running up to grab you as you attempt to speak in local language. Arriving home it was about time to play basketball with the students at the school, which I have begun to do. Now at home, in the States, everyone should know my basketball skills are quite lacking, but here, I felt like a god of basketball...Nonetheless after an our of sweating constantly and having dust kicked up from the dirt court, I returned home, ready for dinner. I boiled some water for tea and for drinking, and scooped a nice heaping spoonful of honey in to my tea. As I licked off the side of the jar I realised there was something chunky in my mouth. Lookin in to the cap of the jar I see dozens of ants crawling around. I proceed then to throw the honey down, squirt hand sanitiser in to my hands and then lick my hands in attempts to santise my mouth. I then proceeded to add a shot to my tea in disgust of the experience and in efforts to cleanse my mouth and stomach...I sat on my outside step, drinking my spiked tea and rubbing my face in hair, covered, in dirt, sweat and grime from an average day in Uganda. No matter how average this experience felt, it was still an 'African Moment' as I never would have or could have imagined occurring in my life prior.
So I just wrote a lot more than I thought, so I will quickly piece the past week together. I have been an officail volunteer since April 10th, 2008 now. So approximately 10 days down and I am feeling pretty good. The majority of these first few months will be community integration and scoping out secondary projects, so at times, even in the past week, the thought of confusion and being lost has been a primary thought. Finally having an opportunity to settle down in what is 'home' has been very good. I now have a place of my own, a community to learn and grow with, and a place to call work. Life, although moving slower than it ever has before, has begun to take on much new meaning. Everyday is filled with a mixture of speaking English and speaking Lusoga. Filled with assessment of possible projects and wondering what to do with ones self. Filled with laughter and crying. Any emotion imagineable is present. It has been odd being away from all the volunteers that I came to know and love, but also it has been refreshing finally coming to a place to live amongst the culture as your own entity. Starting this next school term, so in approximately one month, I will begin to teach Microbiology and Biotechnology. I will also be assisting with computer classes for the students as well as helping the Department of Music. I recently attended an Athletics (Track and Field ) competition at the school, and I expressed and showed knowledge in the throwing of discus, javelin, and shotput, so there are hopes that I could be of assistance with the Department of Athletics as well as potentially coaching students in Basketball. These are only a few of the opportunities, in a matter of the past 10 days that I have sought out...And these are only at the school level...Yes, there will be days of non-activity, or simply sitting at home moping, an doing laundry, but clearly the opportunity is there to be amongst the community, making a difference one by one in the lives of people here in Uganda.
Okay, I fear this post has been too long, so even though my mind is racing to tell you as much as possible, I shall stop.
I know I have expressed before, but if you have any questions at all then ask me, and I will as my best attempts respond on here. Peace and love and go Daniel Koza, yeah me!!!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
My Current Life is Normal
To start off, I have decided that to best my experience here in Uganda that being politically correct should be the primary plan of action in writing to you in all...That said I will NOT be censoring my personality unless a written request is received to withhold information, therefore anything of complete disgust and poop jokes will be allowed in this blog.
**Better than Good**
Against every urge,
We find ourselves fighting the same fight.
A battle never won or lost,
But constantly dreading.
A puzzle with no sides,
An endless mirage of uncertainty.
Can there be a climax
of more than satisfaction?
- First one to find this author wins a letter from me in the mail...postal mail...
So in waking up this morning I realised a few things: The abnormally loud mooing of a cow merely 30 feet from my bedroom window is no longer a shock, but an anticipated sound of udder (haha no pun intended) beauty; waking up at about 6:00am, before the rooster crows is no longer met with pangs of frustration; the sounds of cockroaches roaming my bedroom floor in the middle of the night has turned more in to a game of discovering which bag it has gotten in to rather than a having a night of fear and terror, and the drug-induced dreams of the night due to malaria profylaxis has come to be an expected fantasy of joy instead of the oft-produced insomniac day(night)dreams of scary shadows on my walls. The walk to school/work (The Training Centre) is a parade of school children, bicycle taxis and the smell of dung which I soon find is on the bottom of my shoe. I consider buying fried casava pancakes on the side of the road but consider the alternative, just not eating and waiting for something better to come along-and often nothing better does. Each day thus far has been met with many highs and lows and clearly, thus far, each day has been conquered and my life has been passed along to the next. I spend my evenings convincing myself to return to my host family, not because I am not happy to be with them, but because I have grown up to be an independant being, therefore living under another family's wings makes life all the more difficult, especially when there is a clear cultural and language distance. Communication is oft-stagnant and awkward, but is met by an uncertain but friendly smile from my host sister, making me feel like I am doing something right. As I take tea and then supper, I find my presence could be a nuisance, but ultimately a learning experience for both me and all those around me. This current life is my life. Just more than one month ago life got flipped-turned upside down to this equatorial alien world. I feel as though the past year did not even exist, or even more dramatically that the entire past 23 years of my life did not exist. Everything I know, everything I do, everyone I see is my life right now, and ultimately my life...a temporary one at best though, but one that I have thrown myself in to whole-heartedly.
Peace and love to you all. In the very near future I will mention a few more detailed factual incidents and such, but for now, you gotta take what spills out of this little brain of mine. I wish you all the best with your endeavours back home, and peace out.
**Better than Good**
Against every urge,
We find ourselves fighting the same fight.
A battle never won or lost,
But constantly dreading.
A puzzle with no sides,
An endless mirage of uncertainty.
Can there be a climax
of more than satisfaction?
- First one to find this author wins a letter from me in the mail...postal mail...
So in waking up this morning I realised a few things: The abnormally loud mooing of a cow merely 30 feet from my bedroom window is no longer a shock, but an anticipated sound of udder (haha no pun intended) beauty; waking up at about 6:00am, before the rooster crows is no longer met with pangs of frustration; the sounds of cockroaches roaming my bedroom floor in the middle of the night has turned more in to a game of discovering which bag it has gotten in to rather than a having a night of fear and terror, and the drug-induced dreams of the night due to malaria profylaxis has come to be an expected fantasy of joy instead of the oft-produced insomniac day(night)dreams of scary shadows on my walls. The walk to school/work (The Training Centre) is a parade of school children, bicycle taxis and the smell of dung which I soon find is on the bottom of my shoe. I consider buying fried casava pancakes on the side of the road but consider the alternative, just not eating and waiting for something better to come along-and often nothing better does. Each day thus far has been met with many highs and lows and clearly, thus far, each day has been conquered and my life has been passed along to the next. I spend my evenings convincing myself to return to my host family, not because I am not happy to be with them, but because I have grown up to be an independant being, therefore living under another family's wings makes life all the more difficult, especially when there is a clear cultural and language distance. Communication is oft-stagnant and awkward, but is met by an uncertain but friendly smile from my host sister, making me feel like I am doing something right. As I take tea and then supper, I find my presence could be a nuisance, but ultimately a learning experience for both me and all those around me. This current life is my life. Just more than one month ago life got flipped-turned upside down to this equatorial alien world. I feel as though the past year did not even exist, or even more dramatically that the entire past 23 years of my life did not exist. Everything I know, everything I do, everyone I see is my life right now, and ultimately my life...a temporary one at best though, but one that I have thrown myself in to whole-heartedly.
Peace and love to you all. In the very near future I will mention a few more detailed factual incidents and such, but for now, you gotta take what spills out of this little brain of mine. I wish you all the best with your endeavours back home, and peace out.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
7 Minutes tell You About 4 Weeks!!!!!
OKOKOK...So I know it has felt like years since I wrote anything on here, but do not worry, it has only been about a month....OKay so I am using a computer that has about a 3 second delay on when I hit the keys and when they come out on the screen, alsop random capitol letters will type...therefore I Will not be worrying about grammar or spelling ri...ok then. so the past few weeks have been up and down up and down up and down. we are still currently in training, we swear in in about 4 weeks. being with the host family has definiteily been a worthwhile expereince but at times daunting. the communication barrier sidefinitely a struggle at times, and even though i am learning the language i am only learning key phrase and statements for hte time being. trainining has been...well what can i say.........(I AM DOING MY BEST PART TO CENSOR THIS BLOG FROM THE US GOVERNMENT.....MANY OF THE THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO TELL YOU THAT ARE COMPLETELY TRUE ARE THINGS LIKE THIS IS THE MOST DISORGANISED EXPERIENCE IMAGINABLE.....BUT I CAN NOT TELL YOU THINGS LIKE THAT)........OKAY...so i need t ogo because i haVE 3 MINUTES...do not get worried at my censored statement above...the experience has been amazing and worthwh8ile./...ui will write moer soon..peace and love to all..the ugandan people are amasaing! they are lovely and appreciateive even though there is much struggle to seperate their need and their dependency on muzungus.... byebye for now...!!!!!!
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