As we fly our last leg of the trip from Uganda back to our home, Seattle, memories run through my mind like the clouds that so peacefully are passing us by 30,000 feet below.  And I am filled with deep joy, gratitude, hope and excitement.

In the next few weeks, we have the great pleasure of presenting our trip to all the amazing children that generously gave school supplies, which we had the honor of delivering.  I can’t wait to tell the children the impact they had on the children in Uganda that we met.  How a pencil and spiral notebook can make the difference in the future of a child their age.  And how teachers can now teach with visual aids because chalk, poster size paper and markers were part of the supplies we delivered.  How every Ugandan child that I met wanted me to give a message back to the youth in Seattle the “biggest thank you” possible and how they often said they couldn’t find the words to express how much it meant to them.

Yet what I truly can’t wait to share the most with the school children is that they gave someone on the other side of the world hope.  Their simple, yet thoughtful, actions created a ripple effect in a youth a world away.  And in turn my wish is that they see that they can continue making a difference in the lives of others in small, yet deeply impactful ways.  It makes my heart beat with such content knowing that youth by youth, on both parts of the world, are realizing that they truly matter.

What a wonderful future this world could turn out to be, one pencil and smile at a time.

In gratitude,

Trina

P.S.  If you would like to join us for our upcoming school return presentations or if you would like to grab coffee and talk about ways to partner with us and help grow the Sister Schools movement, please email me directly at trina(at)sisterschools(dot)org

Terry and I spent one morning at the Mukono Boarding School, shooting video of Susan Wamala the Head Teacher/Principal talking about and showing us all of the wonderful projects that Sister Schools, with your help, our supporters, have done for this school.

Six years ago when Sister Schools started working with Mukono Boarding School, they had 489 students.  Today, they have 1,015 students.  The reason for more than doubling of the student population is YOU.

Our first project was a Resource Center, that not only functions as a library, but houses a kindergarten class as well, a rarity in Uganda.  Our next project was to build a girls bath house, now 215 girls who board at the school can bath in privacy, protected from the elements.

A secure wall was then added to keep unwanted passersby from wandering through the school grounds, stealing or possibly hurting a child.  A new kitchen was recently added in order to feed 1,015 children efficiently and cleanly.  The boys dormitory was painted to protect it from weather and finally a new classroom block of four classrooms are being built in order to accommodate the growing population.  All of these projects were undertaken and completed, because of your commitment to helping a group of children to get a better education and have the hope for a better life.

Of course, we have to commend Susan an her staff for the excellent management of the resources that you provided.  The have the single minded focus to do the best they can for the children at Mukono Boarding Primary School.  The parents in the community see this and want their children going to the school there, resulting in the population explosion they are experiencing.  But that’s not all, Mukono Boarding School has recently been named the model school in the Mukono District, that all other schools should strive to emulate.

I tell you all of this to validate for you that your help is going to a great cause.  Helping people, help themselves to a better future.  The Ugandans that Sister Schools partners with the hard working, dedicated, committed, smart and most of all, caring that their children have the hope of a brighter future.

Thank you.

Michael Fardella – Sister Schools Board Chair

John Ntege is a man with a dream.  Years ago he was in a very serious car accident and had a dream that he needed to build a school for children.  After man years, and ups and downs, St. John Kama School stands proudly in a rural area about an hour outside Mukono.  John is not a young man in Ugandan terms in his mid sixties, due to many people dying young of AIDS and malaria, but he has a childlike gleam in his eyes when he talks about the school.   The school is still being fixed up and some generous donors of Sister Schools have helped in that support by remodeling classrooms.  Often times in the rural school settings they only have the red dirt/mud for the floors, and children often get parasites and chiggers.  By adding a floor you are simply able to keep children healthier in school and be able to get more of an education, which equates to a different life.  Since Sister Schools has partnered with the school it has grown from around 100 to 245 students, which is wonderful in a rural environment.

A Literacy Center was also built at the school by the generous donations by Carol Lycette, Fernwood Elementary and OAC Services and other Sister School supporters.  The Literacy Center is still being organized to display the donated books from Sister Schools in a way that makes sense to the children in the different grades and that they can have easy access.  When we were there we handed out a few books and it was astonishing to see the children gather around very quickly and start looking at the images, it was like moths to a light, in a good way.

John named the school after himself but the “Kama” stands for a plant that grows in Africa through the harshest of harshest conditions.  Quite symbolic to the life an Ugandan child might have and how education can change that life, even through the harshest of conditions.

I realize at times it may seem that Sister Schools is just delivering school supplies to children in Africa and how can that change a system or a society?   But there is more; school supplies delivers hope, but also when each school gets the school supplies that our US children so joyfully send, you are assisting a school’s budget to then accomplish other things;  add a teacher, purchase desks, or even buy books.

It wasn’t until around 1996 that Ugandan government changed their thoughts on education, and that every child had a right to an elementary education (education past elementary has a tuition).  You often see older children in lower grades because they are going to school for the first time.  Moses, from Bishops West, told me the story of a 58 year old man who went back to get his elementary education because he wanted to learn to read once the law was changed.

This trip has really allowed me to look at education through such a different lens, going back to graduate school at Seattle University a few years ago and having a very large student loan seems like such a gift, compared to being a very young child and not being able to attend school because you can’t afford a pencil or a uniform.  I have a dream that Sister Schools will be able to change that for many more African children in the years to come.

In gratitude,

Trina

As Elizabeth takes off for the airport, and we continue on for another week and a half of work and time in Uganda; I felt it would be appropriate to show you some of the scenes from a typical day in Uganda.  Often times you go to a developing country and instantly are amazed at how things simply get done.  And then after a week or so, it just seems common that “this is how they simply get things done”.  So I will include some photos and descriptions of the things we have seen in our two weeks, thus far.

To start, everybody at school usually gets porridge for breakfast (if their parents have paid, if not some get nothing depending on the school).  They all have a plastic colorful cup that porridge is drank from.  The porridge is made in a huge metal pot over a small wood fire, along with usually beans for lunch and other Ugandan staples.  They also have a big metal box if they are at a boarding school, usually the key to the box is on a string around their neck, and the box is kept on their bunk bed.  When they leave for a school break they take their box, their yellow water bucket for carrying water, their blue water bowl for cleaning, and their mattress and all other worldly possessions on a “Boda Boda” (motorcycle taxi) or sometimes in a van taxi if there is room and they can afford it, their parents car if there is such a thing and other times they simply carry it on their back.  Each school has a different uniform color and a label or crest naming what school on it.  Because it is a hot commodity,  they also usually write or embroider their name on their uniform so they don’t lose it, one child had stapled a staple on her collar to keep track.  It is easy to pick out the children who parents can’t afford paying for a uniform or meals, as they are usually in random clothing articles, usually way too big and falling off them, and look hungry.  (Orphanages are obviously different, as the children are wearing whatever is there and available, if anything, and eat whatever they can).

Ugandans, like many Africans, carry most of their items on their head.  Every time I see them walking gracefully with large items on their heads, I flash back to when I am trying to carry all my bags of groceries up the stairs to my loft and huffing and puffing, as I always feel like I have won an Olympic metal by the time I reach my door.  Not the case here, they put my small feat to shame.  The best use of the head I have seen so far has been a very heavy Singer sewing machine.  Old fashion in our standards of sewing machines, yet the opportunity for a different life in their world.

They also sell many items, if you have a bicycle or can walk you are officially a mobile store.  I have seen everything from cabbage, to cell phone chargers, books and even bras.  One of the main common uses of a bicycle is to carry water in the yellow containers everyone has.  Fetching your water is part of daily life here to drink, bath, cook, etc. and everyone must fetch theirs from a local watering source, sometimes near where they live, sometimes very far away.  And the quality of the water is a whole other story.  Boda Bodas also carry many items and people – the maximum of the people on a Boda Boda I  have seen is five and the women usually sit side saddle, which is amazing in this traffic – the term that comes to mind is “organized chaos”.

The stores that are not mobile vary in style and size but most common are a food store selling bananas or other vegetables, a motorcycle/car wash, or bicycle repair shop, a characol store, clothing store or hair salon and sometimes even a pool hall.

I know when I get back to the states I will never look at water from the tap the same way or buying and carry groceries from the grocery store.  And more importantly, I will simply be in gratitude for what I have.  Not because theirs is better or worse than what we have, but mostly because I should.

In gratitude,

Trina

There are so many emotions that run through you while visiting an orphanage in Uganda (or anywhere in the world for that matter), and even more so when visiting two in one day.  I will use this post to talk about the first one we visited, Nguru and will leave Dwelling Place for another time.  Although both located in Kampala, they are very different and I don’t think combining them would do them justice or truly be able to portray the emotions felt at each.

Nguru is a government run orphanage which means children picked up off the street go straight there until they are processed out to some other place.  That being said, the children there that come through the doors have deep, deep scars; emotional and physical.  One young child, maybe one and half years old, had a burn so bad on her chest it was hard to imagine what could of happened and by whom.  Then there was a boy who had so many scars on his head and face, you wouldn’t even want to guess what his emotional scars are, and sadly, you didn’t have to from his void of emotion blank stare.  I enclosed a photo of him and another boy who wanted a photo taken with the boy I mentioned.  He must take care of him or watch out for him, as lots of Ugandan children due in these circumstances.  The boy I just mentioned also didn’t speak and his eyesight was poor due to bruises and swelling on his face.  He also had a large five inch scar on the middle of the back of his head that looked like someone took a machete to him or some major harm was done on purpose, I assume.  My point of telling you about these children is to simply tell you the reality of life at a government run orphanage.

Our day was spent trying to connect with the children which occurred in many different manners.  Elizabeth held  babies for the majority of her time, Michael played “Simon Says” to help loosen the children up, Terry sang “Father Abraham” and held children who needed extra love, and Janet played “patty cake” and “jump rope” to try and connect with as many children as she could.

I will start off by saying at times it was quite overwhelming.  There were so many children 120+ and only a few of us, and all each of them wanted was love, and to be acknowledged.  At any one time you had at least five children holding your hand, or shirt or leg; or fighting over who had the preimer holding hand spot.  I started my day by playing a game of “pass the plastic doll arm and rusty nail” back and forth with a little boy.  It seemed so odd, but with a language barrier and lack of toys that is how he connected with me.  He later would be one of the children always with me holding my arm at all times.

Their toys are whatever the children find; a toothbrush, a lug nut, one girl was crocheting with a piece of metal wire, you had random doll parts lying around, and the hardest one to swallow was pieces of glass or a broken mirror that they carried around as a toy.

One great part of the day was the handing out of dresses made by Ms. Sipe’s class from Green Lake Elementary in Seattle.  Ms Sipe’s Mother had passed away recently and left her with all kinds of fabric and material.  To honor her Mother, her class of elementary students decided to make dresses for the girls in the orphanage.  When the girls put them on their faces and sparkle in their eyes could light the sky, they were so happy.

I think the hardest part of leaving an orphanage is that you never know if you will ever see these children again and the odds are that you won’t.  So in the shortest amount of time you try to connect, love them up, and just let them know they aren’t alone in this world, no matter where life takes them next.  And finally, hope that they will find a safe place to lay their sweet an innocent heads now and in the future.

In gratitude,

Trina

One week into my sixth visit to Uganda and I find myself as excited to be here as my first.  As I watch Trina, Elizabeth and Janet, and even Terry after 23 years of coming to Uganda, playing with the children, talking with the school staff and parents.  I see their  smiles, curiosity, interest and caring on their faces, and hear the joy in their hearts that come through their voices.  All of that reminds me of why we are here.

Yes, it is to bring school supplies to schools, but it is also as ambassadors of hope.  Hope for a better life for the children, but also the hope of connecting us together as one people wanting a better world for us all.

While at Bishops Central Primary School, we saw William Oreyama, who is the music teacher.  Some of you may remember William from his visit to Seattle, five years ago.  He now has two beautiful daughters, five and two years old.  Elizabeth noticed and commented that Miriam, the two year old, has a bone by her ear that sticks out a little and that one of her daughters has the same thing.  The fact that East Africa is considered the place where human life began…we are after all not that different from one another.

Tuesday evening we attended a Rotarac meeting with Asia, our Ugandan Coordinator.   This is a group of Junior Rotarians, 25 to 30 years old.  Watching, listening and talking with these young leaders, hearing about their careers as economists, currency traders, social workers, bankers, business owners, managers and educators, wanting to share what they have achievied so far and help build a better Uganda for the future; brought back that warm feeling to me as ambassadors of hope.  We are making a difference in people’s lives and in a developing country’s future.

We are working with the children today, who will become the Rotaracs of tomorrow, and the country’s leaders in the future.  It all begins with sharing and bringing hope, and then listening to the joy.

Michael Fardella

Sister Schools Board Chairman

Today was one of those beautiful days in Uganda, not just because the sunny weather (yesterday it poured for 8+ hours along with an all day power outage) but because it was filled with joyful children and proud parents!   Today, the team spent the day at the Kampala School for the Handicap, a school run by a wonderful leader named Joy and a school that Sister Schools has been partnered with for a while now.  We are in the process building a vocational school where the children can learn ceramic bead making and sell their beads, along with dyed fabrics and tailoring.  And most importantly, learn a skill and have a chance at life.

Most of the children there have some form of disability, loss of limbs, Downs Syndrome, and the list goes on and on, but the most common one is Cerebral Palsy.  They have some amazing staff and teachers that take care of the children throughout the year.  And as a lot of the children we have met in Uganda, their stories will break your heart; abused, tossed on the street, or tied up in a back room their whole life so no one can see them and the family won’t be embarrassed.  The Kampala School for the Handicap is starting to change that societal stigma.  

But today was different.  Today it was their annual sports day, a time to compete and show the skills that you have learned throughout the year to the teachers and their parents.  It is really fun to be a part of and to watch their beaming faces!  We brought uniforms donated from Fernwood Elementary and the children smiled from ear to ear when they put them on – thank you Fernwood!  Most of the games focused around life skills, pouring and passing water, wheelchair races, planting seeds, getting ready for school, cricket, tug-a-war, musical chairs, soccer with your hands, and a few more.  Pictures will tell the story of today better than my words could ever relay.

Needless to say, it was a day I will never forget.  One of my favorite moments, was when I was standing on the sideline cheering the athletes on while taking photos, and a young boy, who couldn’t speak, came up and wrapped his arms around my waist and silently watched the games with me.

In gratitude,

Trina

At each school there seems to be one or two children that you instantly connect with.  Sometimes it is a simply a look in their eyes, where you can see an old soul in a very young body or a child that has grown up way too fast.  At Bishop Central her name was Patience.  Such a fitting name for a child brought into the world in a country that had been through such a tragic war years ago and is slowly trying to rebuild.

The day prior, I had met Patience at the Mukono Boarding School’s field day and assembly.  She was one of the chosen children that represented their school while showing us how they utilize the school supplies that Sister Schools brought to them last year.  Her English was impeccable and her thirst for knowledge unquestionable.  (She also was the one who called me out on adopting – see yesterday’s post).  As the head teacher Sarah was introducing us to all the students, she asked if anyone knew our names.  They yelled out Terry and Michael who they remembered from years prior (although they get them confused!) and then Sarah asked if they knew any other of us three ladies standing up there.  A sweet voice from in the crowd of 500+ students yelled out “Trina!”

After the assembly, Patience and I sat on a broken stair and started talking.  Patience’s parents are both from Rwanda.  Her father moved here during the genocide and quickly changed his name the moment he hit Ugandan soil.  I told Patience that my brother, David, had married Hilarie, a lovely lady from Rwanda and that I have two beautiful nieces, Sophia and Maya, that are half Rwandan.  She smiled at our connection.

She then told me about her family; five siblings all in school and supported by her single mother who is an administrator of sorts.  Her mother is also heavily involved with the church, but Patience said she sees her on weekends.  She spoke in a lower tone with a little embarrassment and sadness as she said her parents were separated and that she only sees her father once a year, if at all.  Sadly, something quite common in Ugandan culture.  Her voice regained confidence and hope as she told me her dream of wanting to be an English teacher for the lower elementary (P1-P3), so she can help other children have a better future (I have no doubt in my mind she will do just that).  She said that she walks 30 minutes a day to school each way, but that it is OK because she is trying to be the best student she can be.  I told her I was really proud of her and couldn’t wait to come back to Uganda and someday have her as one of the head teachers at one of the schools Sister Schools partners with.

As I walked around the grounds of Bishop Central, I came across a small boy with a very large cut above his eye and a fresh bandage, sitting in a lonely classroom by himself, as his friends joyfully played and sang out in the sun.  I asked the head teacher what had happened to him.  She explained that when he saw our van coming he started running towards it as fast as he could and tripped on a rock and then fell face first onto rocks that cut his eye.  I had nothing to give him as I only had my camera and the last thing he would want is to see a picture of himself and be reminded of the fall, so I went to the van and grabbed a coconut & almond KIND bar and gave it to him.  I told him I am sorry he hurt himself and to get better soon and study hard.  A small token for a boy who was so excited  to see us he ran to us.

As it was time to go, a large group of children walked with me towards the van.  I asked Patience if I could have a photo with her and instantly there were dozens of faces smashed around us, Elizabeth took a photo as quick as she could as more faces were smashing in.

I will never forget Patience for many reasons, but especially for her young, but wise, wisdom in a world where she has grown up way too fast.  And for her drive and thirst for knowledge so she can help children out of a life of poverty and a better future with their education.  Terry formed Sister Schools 23+ years ago for all the “Patience” of the world, who see life bigger then themselves and want to build a better society through education.

In gratitude,

Trina

You know that feeling when you know you are exactly where you are suppose to be and, more importantly, doing exactly what you are suppose to be doing?   That is how I feel about being in Uganda as the Executive Director of Sister Schools.  It is such an absolutely rewarding trip and enriching on so many profound levels.  Our visit at Mukono Boarding School was a reminder of that feeling.

Mukono Boarding School is run by an amazing headmaster named Susan; she is without a doubt what you want in a headmaster.  She is smart, strategic, a collobrator and most importantly, gets things accomplished.  Susan, along with our Ugandan Coordinator Asia, scheduled a surprise field day for us to allow each school that we are working with this year to come and present what they have done with the school supplies Sister Schools gave them last year.  When I say field day, I mean large assembly with at least 500+ children and seven schools represented where I was the guest of honor (yikes!).   The day consisted of a band, visits to each school booth, presentations and songs from the children, speeches by various headmasters, and then Terry, Michael and I gave speeches to address the large group.  One of the most memorable parts of the day was when I was asked, as the guest of honor, to go and inspect the marching children.  First of all, I don’t know the first thing about marching correctly, along with how do you tell 500+ sweet children that they are not doing it right, when I myself trip at least twice a day on my own two feet?  So I walked around the group and made sure I had eye contact with as many of them as I could and gave a wink or a smile.  We then had two youth from the boarding school preform acrobatics, red sweatsuits flying through the air, as the band played on.

After the assembly concluded, we had a lunch served for royalty in the Resources Center built out of one of our shipping containers that Sister Schools along with Fernwood Elementary, OAC Services, and other great sponsors had helped build.  It was hard to be treated as such royalty when in reality you are doing exactly what you are suppose to be doing as a human being, helping others.

I made a quick trip to the van to drop off my sun glasses and this little tiny village girl came up to me (she must of been two feet high) and said in broken English and with a thick Ugandan accent, “school fees”.  At first I was confused on what she had asked for.  Normally in developing countries you get asked for a pen or a sweet or money.  This little girl was asking me for school fees.  She had been watching the ceremony all day and had been practicing marching in the background.  I briefly flashed to one of my prior jobs in the nonprofit arena where we were trying to curb the drop out crisis in the Seattle area, and here in front of me I have a child begging to go to school?

After lunch, I hung up my “royalty” hat and went and played with the children.  At first there was a group of about twenty children asking me questions; are you married, do you have kids, why do I have freckles?  All great questions I said, not married because I haven’t met Mr. Wonderful yet, I can’t have kids because of medical reasons and freckles are caused by the sun and passed down through my family’s genes, I guess.  They liked those answers except the one about not being able to have children; without a pause two girls at the same time belted out “you can adopt!”  I smiled and said, you are so correct and under my breath, I secretly promised myself I wouldn’t come home with a child this year, at least.

The children and I then went into a large circle and started playing a game of “skip around the village” or something of the sorts.  It consisted of skipping around the village solo, it then opens up, you go in the middle and dance around until you find someone to stand in front of and hug.  You then skip around the village holding hands with them until they start the village skipping tour solo.  Janet was playing also and the circle kept growing and growing and growing.  At one point I looked at Janet and we had that eye contact that said the same thing – could I even skip around such a large village?

The sun was in full force and it was time to go leave, I walked towards  Michael and Elizabeth who were sitting under the tent surrounded by children.  Elizabeth had a child’s hand on each side, no words spoken, just holding hands with children watching us “skip around the village”.

I had four little children that were my consistent shadows the whole day and at the end of the day, one sweet little girl came up to me when I was walking to the van, and said, “Treeeeeena.  I want you to have this.”  She had taken off her rosary and it was stretched out in her precious little hands.  I quickly got to my knees so I would be at her height and held her shoulders softly and said, “that is the sweetest gift that anyone has ever offered me, but it is so special to you and I want you to keep it.”  I promised her I would be back to see her and we would play again, and more importantly I wouldn’t forget her.  I thought to myself as the van pulled away, and the children were running along side it waiving, here is a child with absolutely nothing, wanting to give me her most precious possession…

In gratitude,

Trina

P.S.  As “guest of honor” my photo taking was limited but I will include just a few snap shots so you can get the picture.