Ndibulungi.

Everyday while I walk to and from various meetings and projects, I am greeted by one person/child after another and have the following conversation.

Little kid on the street: "Mzungu! How are you?"

Me (the mzungu): "I am fine! How are you?"

Little kid on the street: "I am fine! How are you?"

And on and on we go like that until I'm out of earshot. Sometimes we change it up and have the Lugandan equivalent of that exact conversation.

Little kid on the street: "Oliotya!"

Me: "Ndibulungi, oliotya."

Little kid on the street: "Jendi."

Basically, each of us knows precisely 5 words in the others language, and we have the same conversation everyday. How are you, I am fine. Back and forth we go. But for some reason I have never gotten sick of this simple greeting, whether in English or Luganda. I love walking through town and being greeted by people with beautiful smiles whom I don't know and hearing them making such a humble attempt to greet me and establish some common ground. I love even more the smiles that light up their faces when I greet them first in their own language. The old jajjas (grandmothers) get the biggest kick out of it every time.

Apparently the most pleasing sound to the human ear is that of your own name. For me, only second to that, has got to be someone genuinely asking me how I am doing.

So hence the title of my blog, and in case any of you were wondering, I am indeed doing just fine.

en masse

There is a strong Christian presence in Uganda. Just down the road from where we live is a beautiful cathedral that was finished just a couple of years ago. One Sunday we had some things that came up that kept us from being able to travel to Jinja (about an hour away) for church so we decided to go to mass instead. I'd actually been wanting to visit an African church while I was here anyway so it was a perfect opportunity. We walked the 5 minutes through a field of corn to the cathedral on a hill and attended the traditional service delivered in Lugandan. During the hymns, there was still an African feel as choir boys played drums with the congregation. It was really beautiful. On the front doors are carvings of different bible stories. I really liked this one of the good samaritan, so anyway, enjoy!

I'm in love, no big deal.

No, no. I don't have jungle fever. That was effectively cured one afternoon by a certain raft guide from New Zealand by the name of Sonny. I have however fallen head over heels in love with black babies. I know, I know. This is a trifle cliche in the era of  trendy celebrity adoptions from the third world, but let me tell you, there is a reason. I can't resist them, so I'm not even going to try. I have turned into a shameless baby holder, and in spite of the risk of contracting just about every viral infection from their cute little booger noses, I will keep holding every little chocolate baby whose mother will let me near it. The end.

Obama Nation

Regardless of your political affiliation, you have to appreciate this shirt. Thanks to my friend Ronnie and a certain screen print shop in Provo (Gen X anyone?), I am the proud owner of my very own Obama t-shirt, which I wear around the streets of Lugazi. Initially my intentions were less than noble. People from last summer told me that everyone here loves Obama, so it was something of a social experiment. I thought hey, maybe it will help me make friends. There is actually an Obama clothing line here in Africa, and everyone here feels a certain sense of pride about our 44th president, and now after living in Africa  for a few months now, I do too. Let me explain. Like I said, politics aside, it is pretty amazing to see the effect one man can have on the spirits of people that live across the world in a country that has benefited so little from American politics. For them, Obama really does inspire the audacity of hope in a country where many have given up on even the local mayor, who is usually one of a long line of corrupt politicians. Obama is one man, thousands of miles away that looks a little more like them than centuries of white colonial rulers and American presidents, and inspires them to feel a little more pride in the color of their skin. I can't tell you how many times I've had someone tell me they wish their skin was fair like mine. And I can't tell you how small this makes me feel. So I wear my Obama shirt with pride so that my new friends here in Uganda know that I am proud to live in a country with a black president, who I hope does more for them in the future.

Obama recently passed a bill committing the U.S. to fighting to capture Josephy Kony, the demonic leader of the Lord's Resistance Army. Kony is responsible for capturing, torturing and killing thousands of Ugandans and Congolese, especially children who he recruits into his army and brainwashes into little killing machines. Uganda is still suffering from the devastating  effects of this war, and waiting for Kony to resurface from the jungles of the D.R. Congo to pursue his goal of overthrowing the Ugandan government. We are so lucky to live in America and have a government that in spite of its many weaknesses, protects its citizens from the chaos that plagues much of the developing world. Ok, stepping off soap box now.

**Obama Update: We visited a rhino reserve on our safari in Murchison falls last week. Since the 1970's, the natural rhino population of Uganda was completely wiped out as a result of poaching and the civil unrest. The reserve now has 9 rhinos, two of which were donated by the Disney Wildlife Foundation in Orlando. One of those little rhinos had an "American" mother and a "Kenyan" father...they named the little guy Obama.

Playing in the Mud!

One of the main projects that HELP specializes in is building Adobe Stoves. They reduce cooking time, save costs on fuel, and significantly reduce a families exposure to harmful smoke that causes vision and respiratory problems. I was so excited to get to build my first stove with the team for a single mother of 4 children in our neighborhood, Nakazzade. Stove building requires that you first stomp the clay with sawdust and water until it is the right consistency, and then you patty cake it into these mud balls that you throw into the frame of the stove. It was so much fun and the kids got such a kick out of seeing a bunch of mzungus (white people) do this kind of work. Within 4 hours we had completed the stove and the woman and her family were so happy. It was a great morning!

St Paul & Rose Orphan Home

After being in Uganda for 3 weeks I was so excited to finally make it out to visit the St. Paul and Rose Orphan Home. We traveled for nearly three hours to this rural village to meet the 30 orphans that stay there, but it was well worth it. When we got off the taxi we were greeted by cheering and singing as the kids rushed out to meet us. They sat us under a tree and sang to us for nearly 30 minutes. Good thing I had glasses on because my eyes were tearing up the whole time. The children were so amazing and intelligent. It was so hard to believe that they had all lived a significant portion of their lives on the streets where Rose and Paul had found them. Now they are managing a farm and going to school and learning to be good Christians. It was a perfect day and reminded me of exactly why I wanted to come to Africa. They shared everything they had with us. Hopefully we can give something back. We're working on trying to help them with an income-generation project. They've requested a chicken coop to sell eggs and poultry, so we will be going back soon to see what we can do!

The village where the orphanage is located in the village
of Buula.


Wearing the bead necklaces that the orphans make out
of little strips of paper and sell to pay their school fees.

The children enjoying their dinner of matoke. Every
Ugandan says this is their favorite meal...

The group eating the matoke and GNut sauce that Rose
prepared for us. We at Ugandan style...with our hands and
completely against all the sanitation lessons we've been
advocating...none of us had washed our hands. All day.

Daily reminders...

That I am in Africa...


Daily I have these surreal moments where I remember
where I am. While driving home from Kampala, this sign
kindly reminds me that I'm neighbors with Kenya. Awesome.

The city "dump." We always see little kids
picking through the trash looking for something
to eat. Heartbreaking, and right around the corner
from where I live right now.