03 February 2008 Updates

Entries of 03 February 2008

Wow, lots has happened in the last week. Here in Uganda, good things. Just across the border in Kenya, horrible tragedy. Upon arrival here in Tororo on 25 January, I learned that the brother-in-law of Sr Salome Cherono, the Archbishop’s Secretary, had been viciously attacked in Kenya. Efforts are under way to evacuate him to Uganda, but his status is unknown. On 27 January I learned of a priest who was slaughtered because he was from the wrong tribe. Today’s Daily Monitor printed in Kampala (Uganda’s capital city) reported 69 killed over tribal hatred. Truck traffic into Uganda has been choked by the violence in Kenya. This will seriously impact the economy of Uganda, which is landlocked. Meanwhile, Uganda’s many tribal factions remain peaceful. And the Church here in the Archdiocese of Tororo has provided safe haven to some 4000 refugees. It is with these heroic hosts that I’m working.

But this is getting ahead of the Uganda story. Here’s what has happened since arriving in Kampala. On Thursday I registered with the US Embassy. White House security should be so tight! They did give me a contact within the Ugandan government who works with the multitude of NGO’s. I’m saving that one until a bit later.

Father Obel took me to meet Msgr John Kauta, the Secretary General of the Uganda Episcopal Conference. He basically represents all the bishops in Uganda and channels the funds from many grant programs into genuine on-the-ground projects. He encouraged me to continue my mission. The quick drop-in visit turned into a 2-hour long meeting with a key church leader in all of Uganda. He also took us on whirlwind tour of Kampala’s many faces. He is interested in further discussions and proposals. Wow, and I hadn’t even gotten to Tororo.

Kampala (and Uganda for that matter) is a city of contrasts and contradictions. They installed a traffic light when the Queen of England visited recently. Otherwise the traffic flow is a great dance punctuated with bursts of speed, inches separating pedestrians, bicycles laden with bananas/trunks or passengers, taxi-vans, 10-15 year old reconditioned Toyotas, and ultra-heavy trucks. All this between deep hand-dug ditches and interspersed with mountainous speed bumps. The main highways are mostly paved, but beware of tire-eating potholes. Driving is not for the timid soul. For once I’m truly thankful to have others do the driving.

Lining the city’s streets are ramshackle buildings with tiny shops the size of a corporate office, sometimes smaller. Each consists of the small room with a door in front. Some are completely open. Often merchandise is displayed in the open. And yet we visited a Wal Mart-like department store that contained the same things we find in the US or Europe. We bought a cell phone for 40,000 Ugandan shillings, about $25. We added minutes for another 20,000 U shl. The security guards here look like they mean business as they patrol with sub-machine guns, rifles or shotguns.

The water I’m drinking is 100% from sealed water bottles that have become so widespread throughout the world. The only exception was refilling my own water bottles from the water cooler jug at St Augustine’s Institute.

Sr Grace, Fr Andrew and I visited the Entebbe Wildlife Education Center (Zoo), largely in the hopes of seeing the various dangerous snakes from the safe side of display glass. I did see a python strike and eat a baby chick, but the only Mamba on display was hidden within its habitat. Otherwise, the visit was like a mini-safari that you see on TV. A huge pelican attempted to talk to me, but I didn’t quite understand the language.

The 220 V system is keeping me on my toes. I think my step down transformer is toast. Maybe I’ll run down to the local mall and pick one up. Oh, we do tend to take things for granted. One can’t just go downstairs and grab an electric meter or a pair of pliers.

Friday, 25 Jan 2008
The day started with Mass in St Augustine’s Institute. 14 priests concelebrated with Sr Grace and me participating. You haven’t heard harmony until you’ve heard it Ugandan style at St Augustine’s. After a simple breakfast we loaded the well maintained, if semi-ancient Toyota and headed for the blacktop main road over dirt streets that were somewhat less drivable than the roads of Camp Tuscarora before spring grading. We passed through a shantytown with one-room shacks that families of eight called home. Garbage was disposed of in an open pile that included every manner of refuse at streets edge. Street signs were nonexistent. We passed a section of main road that seemed to be the furniture center of Kampala, if not all of Uganda. What appeared to be finely made wooden and upholstered furniture sat on the dirt yards between the street and the one-room shops. People milled about everywhere, like a marketplace in an old spy movie. Women carried huge loads of bananas on their heads. Bicycles were used like pickup trucks and carried everything from passengers to large trunks to 15’ lengths of stovepipe. 14 passenger Toyota taxi vans were everywhere. Traffic merged from all directions at an incredible rate (including bikes, motor cycles, cars, trucks and people).

We cleared the city of Kampala, only to see more of the same. Shop after shop lined the roads for great distances. The highway had been built during the days of British rule and had long outstripped it design capacity. Worse than the over capacity problem was the natural market attraction that the highway created. People from miles on either side of the road discovered a continuous market for passersby whether on foot, bicycle or automobile. This tightly cramped to roadway and made further improvements very difficult. Uganda’s highways are fraught with speed bumps. Not just any speed bumps. Were you to hit one at speed, the bumps are so large that your car would be utterly destroyed. The main highways are generally paved, but they remind me of the Antwerp Tank Trail in the former Camp Drum, but with incredible speed bumps added. Add traffic of every type to the road condition and you have a high stakes demolition derby. In one spot there was a plank with spikes driven through to form a nail strip. You needed to realize that meant drive in the other lane. The “flagman” was at one end of the nail strip and had a small red flag, but he was squatting down, apparently resting, and traffic drove around his tire-eating barrier. Fr. Andrew’s skill should qualify him to race in the Baha cross-country race.

When we got far into the countryside, actual villages began to show up away from the highway. Just like National Geographic; primitive, but neat and clean in contrast to the outward appearance of the city’s hovels and the shops lining the roadway. (I’m learning that even the apparent hovels are usually kept clean and organized). Gardens and small plots of land burst with an array of fresh fruits.

There was no stopping on the Nile River Dam or anywhere nearby as we crossed the Nile as it flows from Lake Victoria and generates Uganda’s electric power. The hydroelectric generators are said to export power to Kenya, Tanzania and Rwanda and maybe other countries. Meanwhile, Uganda operates on a schedule of “load shedding” or what we would call rolling blackouts, in order to export as much power as possible. I’d love to tour the facility, but it’s a locked down secure area and tours would be unlikely.

The 2-½ hour drive in the States took us 5 hours and by the grace of God we arrived safely at the Archdiocese of Tororo compound in mid-afternoon. Sister Saloma welcomed me warmly for the archbishop who was making a pastoral visit. Father Paul Buyela, Director of Development and Caritas (social services) drove in to meet me. I later learned that it’s a difficult 2 to 2 ½ hour drive to or from his parish in the mountains east of Mbale to Tororo. Fr Christopher, the treasurer for the diocese, helped me set up a temporary office in a meeting room until other space could be arranged.

My quarters were originally in a St. Peter’s House, an older building, but with electricity, hot and cold running water, a shower and a comfortable bed with mosquito netting. There was a sitting room complete with a bishop’s chair. This was better than I expected after seeing all the grass and mud or mud brick homes along the highway. The whole compound is fenced and has some serious gates, but it’s not like the walled fortresses of Kampala.

His Grace, Archbishop Denis Kiwanuka Lote, invited me to supper the first evening. He is a warm and astute Church leader. His comment after reading my detailed list of goals for the trip was, “Very comprehensive.” Ugandans have welcomed me like royalty at every level, and I only hope that I can help facilitate improved physical conditions here.


On Saturday morning I awoke early enough to attend mass with the Benedictine Sisters who have a convent on the grounds. They’re a contemplative order and mainly spend their time in prayer and work.

Father Andrew took me to meet Father Charles Opondo-Owora’s mother in Busitema, maybe 10 or 15 k south of here. Delightful lady. She says I’m now her son. Her home is delightful and well made. (Pics and video will have to wait until after I’m home, unless the Internet is faster than it has been to-date). She was delighted with the crystal prism that my mother sent as a special gift for Father Charles’ mother. This lady speaks 7 languages. And her garden is amazing. She grows all manner of tropical fruits, some potatoes and vegetables. And no, Father Charles, I didn’t see any snakes at the edge of the swamp – but I watched carefully!

This is a different world. Jane, the housekeeper in St. Peter’s building took my dirty laundry and would have washed and pressed by 9 the next morning. At home I do my own and wouldn’t think of pressing it. My handkerchiefs were spotless, pressed and folded.

Fr Michael, the rector of the cathedral, loaned me his heavy-duty step-down transformer. Capacity ratings are everything and I had overused the one from home. It’s a vital piece of equipment in this land of 220 V, 50-cycle electricity. Most, but not all of my electronic gadgetry will work with 220 V. The video battery charger has no stated rating (Energizer brand), so better safe than to destroy a very expensive battery.

Sunday morning His Grace, Sr. Grace, one other sister and I piled into the archbishop’s aging Toyota sedan and headed north to Mbale and dropped the other sister off to meet her ride to Jinja. We continued west a few more kilometers to the parish in Gangama. The archbishop would confirm 170 candidates that day. But first, we had an important delivery. You see, my mother crochets. Does she ever crochet. She had heard about the St Kizito Babies Home from Father Charles and wanted to do something for them. She crocheted a laundry bag full of soft, multi-colored balls for these beautiful orphaned or abandoned children. 32 delightful babies and pre-school aged children were absolutely jubilant as they each had a ball to throw and catch. If a child didn’t have a ball, another would hand it to him or her. Sr Grace filmed the action and I clicked digital stills. These children are lovingly cared for by 4 of the most thoughtful, loving nuns on the face of the earth. I can’t wait to see the look on my mother’s face when she sees the video of the children telling her their name and thanking her.

The confirmation at Our Lady of Fatima parish was out of doors under 4 tents. Festive is an understated word. The joy of the Lord was thoroughly evident throughout the four or five hour service. The singing was a celebration of joy and almost non-stop. At the end, the congregation (at least 500) lined up and individually greeted His Grace. The collection raised 117,000 Ugandan shillings that were freely given like the widow’s mite. That’s about $75. His Grace introduced me and I was accepted like a visiting dignitary. The dinner was truly a banquet. The bamboo was delicious.

Oh, here’s one for the ladies. In this Eastern Africa nation, when a young girl and often grown women, presents herself to be introduced to a man, she knells before him. (Yes women do get to vote and hold office). But God help the man who would kiss a woman, not his wife, on the cheek. That would be regarded as an erotic overture.

Our Lady of Fatima parish gave His Grace a sendoff reminiscent of the exit of visiting royalty, such was the joy and the cheering. The Archbishop of Tororo had indeed visited their parish, shown his love and concern, and confirmed 170 of their young people. But I’m getting ahead of the donation for the archbishop. They had put a chicken in the car’s boot (trunk). As we started down the road I remarked to the His Grace, “That chicken sounds remarkably like a goat.” I’d missed seeing it, but they had loaded a goat into the boot as well.

Soon we were back in Tororo in plenty of time for dinner in St Peter’s House. The discussion revolved around Scouts, US politics, the environment and my initial impressions of Uganda. And the first week had evaporated into the tropical heat.


It’s getting to be obvious that keeping a detailed journal is too much of a time drain, may impair my real mission, and will probably bore most readers to death. Yet, I’ll need these notes for source documentation for future articles and presentations. I think the descriptions may devolve into more cryptic notes that I can (hopefully) decipher in the future.

Monday
Retired Archbishop James Odongo came here on Monday from Mbale (about 40 km) to greet me. He welcomed me with a dynamism and excitement that the whole world should experience. He truly reflected the love of a brother in Christ. He was excited that a layman would come to his country to make things better for God’s people. He talked about the ministry of the layity and even went so far as to call me an apostle. Very, very humbling. His grasp of human nature and leadership (spiritual and temporal) is outstanding. He is also a diabetic and wanted to make certain that my own diet and exercise were appropriate throughout my stay. At lunch he urged Archbishop Lote, his successor, to move me to the Archbishop’s own house where the cook could be supervised more closely in preparing diabetic meals.

Few of us have eaten with a bishop. That includes me. And here I was, seated between two archbishops discussing the differences between our countries, their studies and travels in the United States, and of course, my mission on this trip. What was obvious was their optimism about the Church and about making things better with selective water development projects. “Water is life!”

Father Paul lent me his Tororo office and gave me a key. His base of operations is a parish northeast of Mbale in the mountains. Fr Paul and I had planned on a kickoff meeting with the archbishop and his auxiliary bishop, but that was postponed until tomorrow. I reread the Butaleja District water report that Fr Paul had given me on Friday. It said all the right things and made profuse excuses for why things hadn’t been completed. If this was typical, the real problems are persuasion, money, and follow through to put into place things that Uganda’s people and government know that they need.

Fr Christopher would arrange for Internet access. Meeting with Archbishop deferred until tomorrow. I went into Tororo with Fr Andrew to exchange money for Ugandan shillings and to buy more bottled drinking water. $150 in US traveler’s checks became 246,000 Ugandan shillings. Cash was worth more, but it does take a month for the travelers’ checks to clear. Two cases of 24 half-liter bottles cost 17,000 shillings – comparable to buying at home.

On Tuesday His Grace, Archbishop Lote, convened a meeting with Auxiliary Bishop Charles Wamika, Fr Paul Buyela and me to mutually agree on how best to pursue water data and actual water development projects. There is a great need to increase the sources of water within the Tororo AD. We would start with a letter of introduction to the Minister of Water for Uganda, that she might open the doors to existing data and reports throughout the 11 districts of Tororo. It appears that much planning has been done in recent years by the government, by NGO’s, the UN, USAID and perhaps others. What is needed is to coordinate this information, perhaps identify gaps in the planning, and then pursue projects at the local level. Funding must be established, but not totally external funding. Local ownership and responsibility for projects must be established for any projects if they are to remain successful after they are implemented. It was said that 50 – 70 springs could be protected from contamination for the cost of a single borehole (drilled well with hand pump). I had to note that this step could be implemented with no additional planning. The protected springs produce clean water (vs. safe water). The clean water can be made into safe water by boiling, which is the standard practice throughout the region.

Let me back up a moment. There are 5 sources of water in the region, as outlined by Archbishop Lote:
1) Catchment – collecting rainwater from the gutters of the more modern buildings and storing it in cisterns. Water is pumped to elevated storage tanks to provide pressurized running water and indoor plumbing. Boiling used to purify for drinking and cooking.
2) Bore holes – drilled wells, some shallow, some deep with hand pumps. These are numerous and frequently in short supply. Boiling is standard procedure.
3) Springs – often contaminated by improper use or animal access.
4) Gravitation – used in the mountains. Collect and pipe streamwater to points of use at lower elevations. People along the route sometimes misuse transport pipes; i.e., they tap the pipe for their own use and diminish the supply reaching lower elevations.
5) Surface water – Lake Victoria supplies Entebbe, Kampala and Jinja. Although I did see a treatment plant at Entebbe, water at the tap is not safe and boiling is a must.

The common denominator in all water supplies is the almost complete lack of filtration and chlorination. I was to learn later in the week that sand filters do exist in two hospitals. One, in the mountains east of Mbale, appeared to be functioning. The other, here in Tororo was not in use, since the man who had operated it had died and there was no one else who understood it.

Visitation to local governments (called LC1) throughout a sampling of districts will be key to quantifying and understanding the exact nature of water issues. This will be time intensive, but there is no other apparent way that will involve local communities and empower them to improve their own water situation.

An amazing factoid surfaced in the meeting, of which I had no idea. A very large portion of the budget of the Republic of Uganda comes to them from the European Union. Many, many NGO’s populate the countryside and appear to have at least partially created a state of dependence. However, the people of Uganda are enterprising and proud and want the same good for their families that we all do.

There did seem to be a reluctance to consider chlorination, but I don’t yet understand the reasoning.

There has been a steady stream of priests and others through my borrowed office, all welcoming me to Uganda and glad of my intended purpose in being here. Wednesday evening was supposed to be a Rotary meeting, but the meeting location was in a remote village about 45 km hence. My host was very reticent about taking me to a remote location after dark. In fact, he didn’t attend either. I’ve yet to understand the nature of his concern, but it is apparently not a good idea to be out of the compound during the night.

It's also supposed to be the dry season here, but it rained heavily for two nights in a row. The explanation is that there is a gradual transition of seasons. By the beginning of March the rainy season will start.

On Thursday I accompanied Archbishop Lote and Sr Grace to visit two parishes in the mountains east of Mbale. His grace blessed a reconstructed church a few km from Fr Paul Buyela’s Bududa parish. What joy showed in the people to see the archbishop in their humble place of worship. We know that Jesus was born in a stable. These people are living in the same conditions. Many customs seem to be from the very time of Christ. The children know some English from school, but many adults use only their native tongue in these remote regions.

Oh, we drove through a village during market day yesterday. Just like movies depicting days of old, but with some newer stuff/technology added. Cows, pigs, goats, chickens, fruits, vegetables, clothes, cell phones, and plenty of stuff. Bicycles are loaded like pick-up trucks with bananas, firewood, lumber, stovepipes, boxes the size of steamer trunks. No school buses -- but a few school trucks that are open in the back and filled with rows of wooden benches.

Confirmation took about 5 hours and included 327 candidates. The heat was noticeable and I had to sit this one out in the shade for the most part. The small children absolutely loved seeing their photo on the camera screen.

My phone charger has been replaced and phone is working again. Imagine, replaced under warrantee from a shop 5 hours away from the point of purchase. And arranging to get the replacement only took the better part of a week. Jan will be happy that we can talk again.

It’s hard to believe that I'm on the same time zone as Joe, who is in Iraq!

There is much violence just across the border in Kenya. Affecting some people right here. Otherwise, things are good for me, but progress toward collecting actual water data is slow. Hoping to have activity increase with the letter of introduction to the Minister of Water for all of Uganda.

Friday evening I visited my former dinner partners at St Peter’s House. Very astute group of priests with a great love for God’s people. One of them, Fr Jim Fanning, is planning to make a trip deep into Kenya in spite of the violence and personal risk.

Saturday morning was pretty relaxed. Got in an extra nap after breakfast. Took some pics of an iguana (orange, purple and orange). The afternoon was to be a walk into Tororo just to see things and maybe get a haircut. Fr Tom, the Chaplain for the Tororo Government Hospital and also St Anthony’s Hospital joined me and we walked into town. He was a very informative tour guide, and of course, was greeted by nearly everyone along the way. He is a Scouting leader and was able to discuss the flora and fauna along the way, as well as point out the local history. The railroad siding holds the rusted hulks of cars that were damaged or destroyed in the final days of Idi Amin. A good deal of the housing, especially for railroad workers, for police, for hospital personnel has not been updated since the end of British colonial rule in the 60’s. With some sandblasting and fresh paint, they might look habitable. As they are, I truthfully wouldn’t want to enter them.

We toured both hospitals and prayed with patients and staff. A great deal of care and concern, but if I were king, both would be reconstructed from the ground up, sanitation would be top on the list, and the existing hospitals (save the possibility of the newest buildings) would become history. I used a good deal of waterless hand cleaner upon exiting the hospitals and hadn’t even touched anything. Yet, in the midst of the tour was the maternity ward and the newborns – a delight the world over.

We did learn that a major addition to the government hospital, brand new, had been completed at the generosity of the Japanese people. Also found out that they did have sand filters in place for safe drinking water; however the operation of the filters ended when the operator died. Now drinking water is either boiled or treated with Waterguard, a commercial water purification liquid. Oh, there were posters warning of the symptoms and care needed for Elboa. Very comforting. I was grateful to exit the hospitals.

On a lighter note, I got my hair cut in downtown Tororo. Machine cut, I wouldn’t allow use of a razor. The barber was actually quite good and explained what he was doing at each step. Cost was 3000 shillings or about $1.83.

And here’s one for Jan. We had walked enough kilometers and it was about to get dark. Fr. Tom suggested that we take motorcycles back to the compound. Intense competition. The ride was smooth and uneventful as we rode the motorcycle taxis for a mere 1000 shillings.

That about brings things up to-date. Today I walked into Tororo again for mass at Sacred Heart parish. That’s where Fr. Andrew Obel serves when he isn’t busy with duties as the Archbishop’s secretary. The Church was packed and people stood outside. Singing and participation were joyful. Fr. Patrick, the pastor, introduced me at the end. Folks were once again very welcoming. One possible exception was the little girl, probably less than two, who looked at my strange appearance and screamed. Then she kept peaking around her mom to see if I was still there. Guess you can’t win them all.

Tonight at dinner with the Archbishop we talked about the politics of the government and of the Church. His insights are very keen. I’m planning a safari (trip) back into Kampala to meet with the Minister of Water and the Environment. Also hoping to get my hands on some hard copy mapping. There appears to be no such thing as a roadmap, much less various technically oriented maps, out here in eastern Uganda. No street signs either. I’m very much looking forward to the progress that the trip should yield.

Until the next blog update………be well! Remember, “Water is life.