November 5 - Winding Up

Winding Up

Time just seems to have flown by over the past few days.  Enjoyed speaking to the student body on Sunday morning during chapel.  Speaking to future leaders is an awesome responsibility when you realize you are speaking to ordinary people with a passion to change their villages, provinces and country for the better.  Many young people drop out of school early making their individual futures even bleaker.  It is encouraging to meet young men and women who have pressed on to get such degrees as their Masters in Business Administration, etc.

The rest of the day we spent interacting with small groups of students as we slowly and sadly began packing to leave early in the morning.  Only one suitcase was coming home with us loaded mainly with gifts and souvenirs.  Carsen and I trimmed down on the amounts of clothing we were taking, leaving a suitcase full, either for students needing items, or for selling in the market to generate funds for the school.

Sunday night was our last supper with the students in the dining hall.  Mixed emotions were evident.  We have come to love this amazing group of students and will leave a part of hearts here.

Monday morning we are up and gone at 5 a.m. It is still dark and the traffic is light.  We stop only to get some breakfast at a Subway and then carry on to the Ramoji Film Studios.  This film site has made the Guinness World Book of records for being the largest film studio site in the world.  We did some little tours of the amusement park with demonstrations of the making of a movie and a stunt show.  Then we took a tour around the grounds with duplicated villages and train stations, airport, hospital and church.  Crew were filming projects as we drove. Y.  We walked through some areas from one bus drop off point, to a pickup point as the tour progressed through the scene backdrops for various film settings.  It is massive and it would take a whole day or even two to appreciate the intricacies that have been developed there.  By midday, it was really warming up and we found a bus that would return us to the parking lot.

From there we continued to Hyderabad where we went to the Golconda Fort. It is the most amazing historical site I have been to.  It was built In the early 1500's, destroyed once and rebuilt.  The British colonization saw the Fort ransacked and today there are just the remains of massive walls and staircases and arched rooms.  Some are built in such a way as to carry sound to the top of the hill by magnifying the acoustics.  In one room, Carsen stood facing a corner of the room and I stood facing the opposite corner about 75 feet away.  We could speak to each other as though face to face due to the acoustical engineering.  We climbed up ancient stone stairs through many ruins.  Carsen made it to the top, well almost, as there was a Hindu temple at the very top that prevented one from entering the king's chamber.  We marvelled as we were told the king was taken up every day by porters carrying his throne chair to the top where he would have a half hour meeting and then go down again.  There were special arched rooms where royalty could sit and watch the activity below without being detected.  Of course, that tour like so many others, took longer because of the constant request to pose with youth and adults alike for a photo op.

Eventually it's the Hyderabad airport and onward to Mumbai on a domestic 737.  We got into Mumbai 15 minutes early, picked up our one piece of luggage, found a taxi and were at our hotel before midnight.  Mumbai has its own unique smell and we were quickly reminded of the never ending bustle of a city with 37 million people.

We had breakfast in the hotel Cafe where we met travellers from Sweden and Israel and had an interesting conversation about our travels and theirs within India.  Of course now we had experiences we could share with first timers to this country.

We took a taxi down to the southern tip of Mumbai, Colaba District, for souvenir shopping.  Little did we know we were almost at the Gateway to India site with its massive stone structure.  Building started in 1912 and it was completed and inaugurated in 1924.  It was only a block away and we only stumbled on it because we wanted to see the harbour and the boats.  This is a staging area for boats to Elephant Island.  Masses of people mingled in the square in front of the huge arched gateway.  Tourist hunters wanting to take our picture, for a fee of course, and others wanting to get a picture posing with us.  One cannot go right inside the overpowering arch, as it is fenced off from public access, but we got as close as we could.

Hindu priests wanted to bless us with little flowers and wrist bands.  Carsen had to physically fend one off as he tried to put a spot of red dye in the middle of his forehead. I, too was approached for a similar encounter, but said, No, but I will bless you instead and right then and there prayed for him.  He stood there a little stunned.  We carried on and encountered a young man with a baby boy who wanted some rice and milk powder, refusing any cash.  So I broke down and purchased 5 kilos of rice and a can of milk powder, all of which would supply food for a month.  After checking out the many stalls for curios, we crossed the Main Street to the other side, we found there were no pedlars, but higher end shops.  A security guard suggests we go and look in one particular shop. So we did.  At the front were the usual tourist figurines, but farther in was a showroom for carpets.  Rolls of carpet wee pulled off shelves and rolled out for us.  They were very beautiful and made of Kashmir wool or silk.  Prices started as high as U$3000, but today there was a 50% off deal with free shipping.  Being reticent is good, because the price finally came down to $1000 with free shipping.  I was skeptical as to whether the shipping would even materialize.  While sitting and talking, now there were 5 salesmen putting the pressure on, I began to feel woozy and actually fainted and rolled onto the floor.  Must be blood sugars as it was 3:30 in the afternoon and I hadn't had a meal since be breakfast.  Eventually, I wobbled out of there, no purchase, and we found a MacDonalds nearby for chicken nuggets and fries that had me feeling better in minutes.  But to be safe, we took a taxi back to the hotel.  We rested and spent the early evening walking to the Reliance Superstore.  When we found any kids, we divested ourselves of the last of our rubber bouncy balls.  Now we are close to the end of our trip.  On Wednesday, we make our way, slowly, towards the International Airport.  This is almost the last post.

Three Busy Days as Substitute Prof

Busy Days in Kothagudem

I hadn't planned on teaching at the Team Leadership Centre when I left Canada, but circumstances prevailed.  A professor from China who was to be here this week was delayed until next week due to visa delays "and they had three days with no guest professor....except me.  So my "spare" time was taken up preparing 3 hours of lessons for three days.  It went well and I actually just about needed more time.  The classes were well received, so much so that they have insisted I return to teach a two week course in the future.  My, what an honour!

We did take time to get a few breaks.  One afternoon we travelled out to the water project which is large' reservoir.  Our hopes were to see some crocodiles, but we didn't have any luck in that department.  We did see a large herd of fallow deer that had been fed by the Wildlife Conservatory.  There were quite a few monkeys darting in to steal their food.  At the parking lot there was also a large group of monkeys that you had to watch or they could grab your camera or anything in your hands.  Mommies with babies clinging to them and male guardians that bared their teeth at you if you got too close.

We drove past a massive thermal generating plant fired by coal.  The large reservoir we went to also served these generating stations with cooling water.  I expected a lot of pollution from a coal fired operation, but this was remarkably clean.  President Modi wants to clean up India.  He'd better order a whole shipload of garbage cans because people here don't even think about those things.  Garbage piles up everywhere and the pigs, goats, chickens, monkeys AND cows rummage through it for anything edible.  The cows walk down, lay down or simply stand their ground in the middle of busy streets!  The streets and boulevards are not recommended for night walking without a flashlight!

There are no traffic rules here as far as I can tell.  Driving was intended to be left hand lane, but motorcycles, rickshaws and even automobiles will drive against the traffic, do u-turns right in front of you and zigzag through traffic as if in an obstacle race.  Really!  And that goes for buses too.  They pull out and pass and Anya oncoming motorcycles often have to veer into the ditch to avoid a collision.  Funny thing is, I have not seen one collision.  We did see a tanker truck that had jack-knifed and rolled.

Carsen got to ride a motorbike with three on board at speeds I don't want to think about and through horrendous traffic.  Needless to say, we left the reservoir canal before them and they beat us home.  We had 14 crammed into the Toyota heading out and 13 heading back because Carsen got on the motorbike.  We had taken a half hour drive to the canal as 5 students wanted to be water baptized as a profession of their faith, students who came from Hindu homes.

One evening we walked over the bridge to find a fruit stand where we could purchase oranges.  They have delicious oranges here.  A couple of the students caught sight of us and joined us "in case we needed interpreters".  We had a lot of fun putting our hands together and saying, "Namascarm", the Talooga local greeting.  Our student interpreters didn't know Talooga.  Everyone wants to come and shake our hands and ask us where we are from.  There is a lot of handshaking and laughter.  Very friendly people.  Makes ME feel good when they ask if Carsen is my son!

Finding a lot of interesting cultural things in dealing with students from 17 states or provinces.  Indians don't generally ask questions. Children seldom touch their fathers out of deep respect and fear.  No hugs.  There are many languages used in India.  So different that students who have come from different states could not even understand when they were asked their names.  Since enrolling in the Leadership program, they have improved remarkably.  And each of the 32 states in India have their own cultural uniqueness.  It's amazing, the variety in India.

I was educated by the students on various Hindu practices and how they were brought up in Hindu homes.  It's been a challenging three days, but very rewarding.

Tomorrow is a relax day and I'm looking forward to it.

On the Road to Kothagudem

Mon-Tues Oct. 27,28

Monday was our day for sorting out the things we would leave behind at the hostel.  There were still things we wanted to bring along with us to our next stop.  Our laundry was pretty well dry and ready for the suitcase.

Pastor Dillip wanted to take me to visit a Bhuddist family near the hostel.  Actually, the mother has worked as a cook at the hostel for over 20 years.  She has watched it grow from 70 boys to 510 boys now.  Dillip told me the family had an 8 month old baby, so I took along a quilt as a gift.  He never told me they had a 4 year old girl. We took our sandals off at the porch and went inside the living room where we were invited to sit.  The young mother went into the kitchen behind curtains and brought stainless steel cups of water for each of us.  Then she disappeared again and brought out two plates of sweets and nuts. I then asks about the baby and she went outside somewhere to fetch it as if going toget a pet. Another family member was babysitting.  I gave her the quilt and tried to wrap it around the baby she was holding.  Well!  You would think I was trying to kill her with the screams that erupted.  Mommy took her into the kitchen with the quilt and emerged with the child to go out the door and give the baby to someone unseen.  She was very happy with the quilt and I explained through Dillip that my mother had made the quilt to be given away.  Eventually, the man of the house came in from the vegetable stand he operates in the morning to get ready for work on another job.  I think he is a carpenter.  He went to shower after greetings and change into other clothes.  We were asked if we wanted tea and so we waited again thinking this would be the occasion for a visit.  Tea came and the man came out and sat on the couch and said not a word.  With him sitting, now the women could sit. The most conversational one was the 4 year old. Well, tea done, we were done.  It was all simply a way of honouring foreign guests into their home.  No conversation was necessary apparently. And we left with many thanks for the hospitality.  Well, that was disappointing, but Dillip explained they were shy and the man grew up in the hostel and had always been very withdrawn.

The rest of the day was spent visiting with our hosts, trying to get Frank's computer to communicate with the new photocopier.  They had brought the wrong drivers to install.  We shared videos and pictures taken during the week and wound things up.  Then it was tandoori chicken for the last supper and gather the bags for the trip to the bus.  The bus was a luxury semi-sleeper with reclining seats and flip up leg rests.  It was quite comfortable, especially since they provided nice, warm blankets to fend off the cold air from the air conditioning.  The bus left at 10 p.m. enroute to Hyderabad, which was supposed to be a 9 hour ride.  This was a Mercedes-Benz bus with smooth suspension and very quiet after they turned off the Indian music video.

About two hours out of Nagpur, the road turned for the worse.  The size of the potholes was astounding!  At times I thought the bus would end up on its side!  Violent enough that luggage began to fall out of the overhead storage.  At one point the bus was crossways on the road trying to avoid the deep pits.  If the tires had gone into some of those holes, it would have high centred on the front bumper, seriously.  At times the bus was crawling at 2 km per hour.  It was pathetic and I began to wonder if taking the bus was wise.  The train was full or on standby basis for another three days, so there wasn't much choice.  In about an hour we finally finished driving through the minefield, because that's what it seemed like.  The road split into a divided highway, a few more bumps and near misses with transport trucks trying to negotiate the potholes, and the highway became smoother, the pavement more consistent and the speed ramped up to 80+ kph.  We arrived in Hyderabad at 7 a.m., waited through a few stops to discharge passengers, and finally Carsen and I were the last on the bus.  Next stop we were motioned to get off.  We got our luggage and stood at the sidewalk with half a dozen rickshaw drivers offering us rides, or take our luggage int the hotel.  I texted Joseph and told we were outside the Hotel Pearl City, Raj Towers.  He punched that into his GPS and showed up within 10 minutes!  What a relief.  We I,mediately made our way out of the city to avoid the worst of the morning rush hour.  About 2 hours later we pulled off the highway into a food court area and had lunch at a Subway.  Could not believe it!  And then at Coffee Day, (Indian Starbucks) we got hot chocolate and a latte before heading for our destination 2 more hours down the road.

Our arrival at the Team Leadership  Centre was astounding!  60 young men and women from 17 states in India, lined the approach to the Centre, smiled as though the President had arrived (or rock star Carsen), and placed wreaths of flowers over our heads.  We then walked down the line and greeted each one personally, had photos taken, were ushered into our private room where we were served curried chicken, rice, chapatis and fruit. And told to relax.  Wow!  It blew us away.  Moments later I entered the classroom, just for a look, and all the students stood up to welcome me in.  Wow!  And again I say, wow!

We have something to learn in Canada about welcoming the stranger into our circles.  What honour they give to strangers!

Sunday in Nagpur

Sunday morning (Oct 26th) it was time for church at 9:30 a.m.  People came together from among the staff, children and folks "outside" the compound.  About 80 or 90 people gathered for the service and it was encouraging to see their fervency in prayer and worship.  I had been invited to address the congregation and shared some simple, but relevant stories.  Carsen and I were honoured with gifts and mementos of our visit to Prem Sewa.  I also presented some gifts to some mothers with babies under two years of age, a handmade crib size quilts. They were very appreciative.  A number of brave souls came to interact with us at the close of the meeting.  They shared some of their stories with us and it was a very encouraging time.  I left three more quilts with the pastor for mothers who were not there to choose a quilt for their child.

Sunday afternoon, the new photocopier arrived and was installed.  The home here is trying to make songbooks for the children and the inexpensive printers were failing consistently.  Tomorrow the installer will come and teach the staff on the proper use of the copier.

Since we are leaving tomorrow, I needed to get our clothes washed and dried.  Because there was a light rain falling intermittently, I needed to dry the clothes inside using the ceiling fans at high speed and draping the clothing on hat stands and mop handles stretched between chairs.  Hey, it worked.  Later, when we were heading for bed, the "drying room" was full of people.  What?  They were on their way home to Mumbai after a nearby conference and needed a place to rest before catching their midnight train.  I apologized for the drying laundry, but they didn't have a problem with it.  They laid on the floor, used the facilities and recharged their cell phones.  There were two pastors and about 10 young men in all.  So of course, there was an opportunity for discussion and they exchanged phone numbers for Mumbai in hopes we would have time to visit them there.   What nice people!

It's been a nice relaxing day with a few interesting interruptions.

Ramtik Hindu temple

Saturday October 26

Today was an interesting day with a field trip to an ancient Hindu Temple and historical site.  It was only about an hours drive from our compound up to a prominent hill out in the country.  The Temple can be seen from several miles away.  Our car wound up the backside of the mountain on a narrow road and we finally came to a parking lot where we parked the car and walked the rest of the way.  Looking up at the walls from the lot, we noticed our first monkeys perched atop the walls.  We wandered through tarpaulin covered eating areas where people could sit and relax in the shade to eat.  But today was overcast and a great day for strolling outside and it wasn't unbearably hot.

At first, we looked down into what appeared to be a sinkhole, walled with bricks and stone and adorned with walk-in grottos that overlooked a deep, litter strewn pool.  It is an old archeological site.

We turned to trudge up the hill towards the main temple.  It wasn't a short walk and the path was lined on one side or the other with stalls selling coconuts, flowers, nuts and other items to be used in worship to the multitude of Hindu gods.  The monkeys became more plentiful and often ran past the stalls grabbing a bag of nuts or whatever they could grasp and run.  Eventually we saw about 40 or 50 monkeys throughout our visit.  The monkeys could be fed by hand but when they become a nuisance, some of the men use slingshots to chase them away.  They are pretty smart too, because as soon as they see someone pick up a sling shot, there is a mad pellmell to escape out of reach of the rocky artillery.

The closer we got to the actual temple, the more serious things became.  Crushing coconuts, burning incense and offering flowers or foods at various shrines.  At one point a couple of Hindu men asked me where I was from and was I visiting various shrines in India.  As our conversation proceeded, I asked about the Hindu religion out of genuine curiosity.  How do you decide which gods to worship out of the more than 3 million Hindu gods?  Well, you pick one that you like, one that reflects your personality, one that suits your needs or your character, and that's the one you go with.  You can go with more than one.  The one gentleman said his personal favourite was Lord Shiva.  I asked about the one with the elephant nose.  That one was Ganesh.  Since they shared their personal favorites, I shared that I only worshiped one God.  They guessed questioningly, "Jesus?"  I replied in the affirmative and they carried on with their visit to the shrine.  I tried to get closer as well, and was asked to remove my sandals and leave them behind. I did get to see the inner sanctum where a Hindu priest was handing out something to the line up of individuals passing by.  I didn't follow them but slipped out a side door.  I wasn't permitted to take photos on the inside.  There were gold-gilt images and pictures behind bars behind the priest.  I don't know what they were exactly.  But in the dim room and through the haze of burning incense it was difficult to get clarity.

I continued my tour and found a deep pool, deep in the sense there were many stone slabs that protruded down the wall to the pool on one side and regular stairs and another entryway to the pool through an arch and more stairs into the pool itself.  I spoke with another man who explained it was a pool where in ancient times, priests came came out of their forest habitats to bathe and rest.  Hence the name of the place was Ram (god) and tik (resting place) or Ramtik, the name of the temple.

At first glance, it appeared to me that the site may have been an early fortress with gun or archery embattlements from early days under British rule, and then in a later period developed into a Hindu shrine.  But I was informed that it was always a Hindu holy site perched atop the hill overlooking the wide expanse of the valley and village below.

Carsen enjoyed chasing monkeys and coaxing them with peanuts he bought at one of the many vending stands.  And it didn't take much to coax them either!  He had fun as there were a couple boys that came along from the orphanage.  They climbed all the high viewpoints around the perimeter walls and poked their heads through stone arched windows wherever they could..

All in all, it was an interesting site to visit and gain some insight into.  One person I spoke with said there was another holy site at Kothagudem where Carsen and I  will be going in a couple of days.

In the afternoon, we stopped at some roadside markets to get vegetables.  At one point I had a standoff with a cow grazing from a box of red onions.  I planted myself between the cow and the box and when it tried to dodge around my legs I shifted to head it off.  Then in frustration the young cow put its forehead against my shins and began to push, and none to lightly.  So I yelled at the vendor to look after his own produce and left the cow to it.

Carsen also found firecracker vendors and bought some.  A bag of 100 for 30 rupees or 60 cents.  They had fun back at the orphanage with the boys lighting them off in an empty echo chamber of a room.  As if we hadn't had enough by this time!

A Dahlit day

Friday October 24

The Dahlit people are the lowest grouping in the Indian caste system.  The Brahmans are at the top.  I don't think I have met any of those.  But I was looking forward to meeting and interacting with some Dahlits.  Only because they are considered "the least".  I had my opportunity today.

Akash works in the kitchen in Frank's home with a number of other boys.  He is Dahlit and Frank suggested we go and visit his parent's home somewhere in a colony near the nuclear power plant.

We were driven as near as possible to the neighbourhood until the streets got so narrow one could only walk.  We walked through narrow pathways between rows of houses, under clothes lines and finally came to the edge of the river where women were hand washing clothes and scrubbing them on the concrete-lined river bed.  There was a recently constructed two-room house that was all ready to move into.  Akash's mother and brother had built it out of brick, plastered it, and Akash had painted it.  By neighbouring standards, it was beautiful.  While waiting for his mother and father to arrive, we visited with the neighbouring aunt and uncle.  His uncle is a contractor building a new cooling tower at the nuclear power plant.  It looks almost finished to me, but there is another year before completion.  It is massive.

Anyway, Uncle hopped aboard his motorcycle and went to get bottled water and Mountain Dew that we shared around in small glasses.  While we waited we were introduced to Akash's cousins and some of their friends.  We have the younger boys toy cars and some marbles.  Everyone got Costco dark chocolates.  The girls complained, there is nothing for us.  Oh yes there is!  One by one they sat in a chair in front of me.  I donned latex gloves and applied nice body lotion to their arms from the elbow down.  They liked the smell of the coconut lotion.  It was improper for me to do that for the married women.  I asked if there were any babies, but the cousins were teenage girls and there was a lot of laughter over that.  One girl ran and found a happy 10- month old baby and I dig out a baby cap which proved to be too small.  So I had one crib-size quilt that I gave instead.  One cousin who recently got married, is expecting her first child so I left a couple of infant caps as a gift for the newborn.

Eventually, Akash's mother and father showed up and showed off their newly completed home.  They invited us in and brought us tea from somewhere (the kitchen is still not finished) and we sat on a bed and on the floor of a 12x12 room adjacent to a kitchen less than half that size.  The toilets outside are still under construction.  They have been renting for twenty years and are now looking forward to living in their new home and eliminating that monthly expense.  To celebrate with them, I suggested she get herself a new dress, and a new shirt for her husband.  I made a contribution to that end and demonstrates a happy dance in their living/sleeping room.

Their symbol of respect for guests is to bow down and touch your feet.  As I tried to reciprocate, they restrained me from bowing down and doing the same.  It was very humbling.  We went for a short walk through the neighbourhood to visit their rental quarters.  Again, basically a one room, all purpose dwelling that cost 1000 rupees per month.  Their monthly salary is less than 3000 rupees a month.  Of course, we were introduced to the landlady and other neighbours and everyone seemed to want us to come into their home, stretching out rugs and gesturing us in.  Well, we had a driver waiting patiently for us at the road, so we put our hands together, bowed and said "Danyawal".

As they accompanied us to the road, there were a few other wide-eyed kids who got a ball, a car or some chocolate.  What a fun day!  It was truly an eye-opener and a contrast to what we are familiar with.  I could have spent a lot more time there.

In the evening, Carsen and I got to share some real life stories with the boys at the chapel through an interpreter.  A different experience for Carsen, but it was also a fun time with the boys.  Many of them don't understand English, so it was a way of letting them know a little bit about us.  Afterwards, we had a late supper of rice and goat meat.  It was delicious.  Then contacts with family back home and wearily found our welcoming beds.

Diwali

October 23 - Diwali

Diwali is a Hindu celebration of "light overcoming darkness" and "good overcoming evil".  It is celebrated with generosity (gift giving), bright lights (just like Christmas) and fireworks!  Lots of fireworks.  Did I say lots of fireworks?!  I have never seen anything like it!

Our day started with a pancake breakfast at Frank's and it was delicious!   Then Bapo, the administrator, took a box of goodies out to the edge of the playing field and distributed bags of chips and wrapped cookies to the 50 or 60 boys.  I went and got the wrapped semi-sweet Swiss chocolates from my room and also gave each boy and some of the staff a piece.  They thought the chocolates would be sweet, but you could see by the look on their faces that it was a bit of a shock.

Afterwards there was a lot of litter on the ground, so I asked Bapo to announce a contest.  The boys who came up with the most litter would win a prize.  In 15 minutes the grounds were clean.  Four boys got a tinker toy car for having the most litter, and five boys got 2 marbles each for honourable mention.  I can't believe what they will do for a marble!  What a hit!

It was laundry time and I helped the little Hoover out by dumping in buckets of water since the filler tube was so very slow.  Laundry washed and hung out to dry on the refurbished clothes line.  It's hot here so it didn't take long to air dry.  Oh, there is no dryer.

During the day, Carsen hangs out with the boys in the orphanage, plays soccer, rides a bike giving rides to kids, chases after geckos and moles or rats, and generally has a good time.  The kids love him and they all get along well.  And I am constantly accosted with "Uncle, uncle!"as they try to get another marble or a car out of me.

In the evening, Akash led us down to the neighbourhood colony for a meeting at Pastor Dillip's home.  A half hour before we got there, he had killed a cobra snake in the front yard. Apparently, they are quite plentiful in the grassy fields around here.  After the meeting, we were served a dish of sweetbread, nuts and a banana.  There were 48 people in the living room!  

It was around 8:00 p.m. when the fireworks started in earnest and we made our way to the rooftop to watch.  The entire skyline in every direction was lit up with fireworks and the sound of explosions.  It was like a war zone.  And it didn't just last for 20 minutes like we are accustomed to in Canada. This went on til after midnight!  The neighbourhood kids also had a stash of fireworks that we set off in the alley.  The local dogs were panting and running to find refuge, but there was none to be found.  

Then a neighbour invited a few of us into his home for banana milkshakes.  Wow! What an amazing evening.  Then we walked home in the dark, to the flashes and bangs of continuous fireworks displays to have a late supper and head for bed.  The sound of the ceiling fan and air conditioner helped mask the thunder and we slept like dead men.

Marbles, poles and pools

Wednesday October 22

What to do? I wandered around this morning and found a small group of boys playing marbles. That gave me an idea. I returned to my room and got a pocketful of marbles (konchi) and returned to the fence. I never knew marbles would cause such a riot. As I offered the players a few marbles, suddenly there was a deluge of bodies and arms reaching out for a marble! It's amazing how these little guys can squirm their fingers inside your clenched fist to extract a marble! So I tried to bring some order out of chaos and make them line up so I could distribute the marbles fairly. Then there was jostling for position and some boys got several marbles while others got none. The plaintive looks of the boys who were without sent me back to my room for some more, and finally a third trip until I had lost all my marbles!

Today was also a bit of a workday. A clothesline pole had pulled out of the ground and needed to be re-seated. It took awhile to find some digging tools, but when they arrived they came with 6 or 7 young men to handle them, dig the hole out and lift the pole back in place and fill around the base.  Not before I unstringing the lines attached to the other post, then restringing them for a fait accomplis.  There was a lot of laughter and fun during the process.  They certainly try hard to express themselves in English.

After the work, the boys wanted to go swimming. They would pay. I tried to explain we had never paid the day before when we had taken a few boys to a little water hole just outside the compound. They insisted it would cost 40 rupees each, 400 for 10 of us. Curious, I wondered where THAT was coming from. I followed them as they made their way to Papa Frank's. Now I knew where their ATM was. Fortunately, he was in a meeting and I just said, "Let's go!" They had a driver for the hostel jeep and away we went. Yup, to another location with an outdoor pool about 30x30 feet square and 5' deep at the deepest end. I couldn't see the bottom through the green water and I found it just a little slimy. Visibility less than two feet. We spent an hour there then went home for a shower...for safety.

Then it was nap-time after lunch and then watching the kids play some of their games, games I had never seen before. One game was fascinating...placing a short (4") stick on the ground with two pointed ends, then taking a club like stick about 30" long, smacking the short stick to make it bounce in the air and clubbing it in baseball fashion to send the short stick sailing into the field. It took Carsen a few tries to even get the stick off the ground, but eventually he did. But the skills of the other children were amazing!

And so another exciting day winds down as we wait for supper and then turn in. Tomorrow is Diwali and fireworks are already being discharged! It promises to be a loud day tomorrow.

Breakfast Eye Opener

Tuesday October 21

At 6:00 a.m. it's very peaceful.  A great time to sit and enjoy the cool of the day. A great time too, to collect ones thoughts and journal what's been happening...the highlights of the previous day, and look forward to the day to come.

This morning I went down to the dining hall for tea with the boys.  Well, sweet water if anything.  Then the process began for preparing breakfast.  A huge wok-like cauldron was placed on a gas-fired stand and the fire lit.  Oil was added, then some beans as it came to temperature.  A steel paddle was used to mix the beans as onions were added.  Then came the curry powders and salt.  Earlier some boys had been breaking up the now stiff rice from the previous evening and crumbling the chunks into a finer mixture.  Now this huge barrel of rice was pushed over to the sizzling wok on a steel-wheeled cart and rice was added and mixed up with the steel paddle.  Breakfast was ready to be doled out at the counter after the rice mixture was dumped back into the squat barrel and wheeled to the serving counter.  The cleanup bay is a tiled, sunken floor with taps about 4 feet off the floor and it is literally a walk-in sink!  It is about 10 x 20 feet in size and sunken about a foot below the rest of the kitchen floor.  It makes it easy to drag those gigantic pots into the "sink" for cleaning, and it generally takes two people to manhandle them and clean them.  All the eating utensils are made of stainless steel making them easier to clean. The boys get their plates filled at the counter and sit in order on the floor.  It was quite a production for 50 boys and it was hard to imagine feeding 500, three times a day.  And yes, it is rice, three times a day!  Sometimes potatoes and vegetables are added for a little variety, but that's it.

This Boy's Refuge and Girl's Home goes through 120,000 kg of rice in a year and 30,000 kg of vegetables for four servings a week, and 20,000 kg of lentils and 15,000 kg of wheat for making chipati's and 20,000 kg of miscellaneous items.  This feeds 510 boys and 625 girls.  Then there is over 100 staff members to factor in.  The annual financial commitment approaches $450,000.  It's amazing how much this has grown in less than 40 years and the number of lives that have been impacted and changed that are also now having an impact in India.

What a joy to sit with Frank and listen to the agony and the ecstasy over the years of development of this place.  It's really inspiring.

Some of the children have sponsors who provide monthly support.  So today we helped by handwriting their letters in English to their sponsors.  The children wrote letters in Hindi which were translated on computer into English.  Carsen and I, plus another dozen children who could write English, transposed the letters to the sponsors in handwriting. With that many helping, we waded through that stack of letters in less than two hours.  Whew!

Monday in Nagpur

Monday Oct.21

We arrived at Prem Sewa and were treated to a snack at 5 p.m.  A good thing for a diabetic.  Then at 8:00 p.m.we had supper at the regular time, visited a short while and off to bed.  In the morning, up and at 'em for breakfast of toast, muffins and coffee and then a tour of the facility.  It's always amazing how someone looks at an empty field of little value and "sees" something great and desirable down the road.

Frank Jeulich is like that.  He didn't intend on coming to India for this, but initially came to translate the Scriptures.  Prem Sewa started in 1977, in an open field with a primitive structure they called home.  Today, he has a beautiful facility with 510 boys (of the more than 1200 boys and staff that have passed through), with two playing fields, a clinic, a school up to Grade 10, dormitories, wash houses, large dining room, staff buildings and a chapel.  As I wandered through, I couldn't help but be amazed at how things had grown in 37 years.

Right now there are about 50 boys here, while the others have gone away to homes of family and relatives for Diwali celebrations (festival of light).  We are told that it is quiet right now.  We are looking for things to do to help out where we can.

Because of Diwali, it is prudent to arrange for onward travel to Hyderabad, our next city.  At the train station, we discover the train is full around the three days we planned to travel, but there was a wait list for the third day of we wanted.  That put us behind schedule so we opted to see if we could get a confirmed ticket on a semi-sleeper bus to Hyderabad.  Yes, and we paid for 2 seats, 2320 rupees, a bargain!  On the way back to the hostel, we stopped at a clothing store and ordered Punjabi suits for Diane, Marci and Tanya.  They will sew them according to styles I had been entrusted with by the girls.  The men with us thought I had bargained a very good deal when one dress began at 3600 rupees and I finally ended up getting three for 4500 rupees.

We got back in time for a small nap and then supper.  Supper is usually at 8:00 p.m. when it is a little cooler.  It is hot here too, but not not as humid as Mumbai.  Supper was tandoori chicken, something I had never had before, and it was delicious.  Of course, every meal is regaled by Frank's sense of humour.

We have an early bedtime of 9:00 p.m.  Good night. 

Road to Nagpur

Saturday October 18 Road to Nagpur


Wide awake at 5:30!  I think Carsen got enough sleep by now.  I'm awakened by a honking horn at 5:23.  Typical.  We try to engage with families back home then hit the cafe at 6:00 a.m. opening.  You know it's hot when the back of your fingers and hands are perspiring by 7:00 a.m.!

Packing up, then heading out for a nearby mall, and maybe the bigger one about 25 minutes by taxi.  We'll see.  We have to be back at the hotel by 3 pm to get a taxi to haul our stuff to the Patel Bus Line, a sleeper coach.  To Carsen's delight!

We went to the local Reliance mall, much like Superstore and got a few groceries including a bottle of nice skin lotion.  Then on to the Palladium mall which is very, very upscale!  Lots of glitter and expensive name brand stores.  Not a place for me to shop!  But there was a McDonalds in the outer courtyard.  Hey, maybe a Big Mac with meat?!  Not a chance.  Reconstituted chicken with spices and no lettuce.  Not great.  But we did have a young lady of 19 sit at our table.  She has been flying since 16 years of age and is working towards a commercial pilot career.  What a delightful conversation with her.  We tried to give a Canada frisbee away to a couple of boys but they declined.  Instead, a young man sitting next to said he would accept it.  Was he ever happy.

We went to a big bazaar and checked out Punjabi suits, but the price reflected the upscale nature of the district and we left to go back to our hotel.

At the hotel, we booked for our return to Mumbai and also booked our airline tickets from Hyderabad to Mumbai in November.  Good thing.  The bus just won't cut it.  The hotel boys helped in getting our luggage to the street, and across the street to a taxi.  Crossing the street with luggage is a feat in itself.  Then the taxi cab was going to charge us 100 rupees to take us to the bus station.  The hotel boys argued about the exorbitant price demanding a fee of 60 rupees.  I said I would be happy to pay 80 and then gave the driver 100 when he dropped us off.  That's like a toonie!

As we had been told when booking the sleeper coach, we were there before 3:30 p.m.  Finally, at 4:15, after sitting at the curb in the sun, a small taxi pulls up and three of us were told to get in.  Luggage was tied to the roof carrier and Deepak, Carsen and I squeezed into the back seat,  Deepak is a young banker who speaks good English and became our interpreter.  He was taking the same bus to Nagpur.  Apparently the two decker buses were discouraged from coming into city centre because of the traffic congestion.  I think there was more to it.  The taxi dropped us off in a quiet neighbourhood in West Mumbai with narrower streets and large trees I. The boulevard, a lot more difficult to negotiate than the wider city streets.  There we stood at the sidewalk as the taxi drove away.  No taxi, no bus, no instructions.  After 10 minutes a minivan pulls to the curb, passengers dismount, and it pulls halfway into the street and stops.  Our bus line guide shows up and tells us to put our bags on board.  We are going to meet,the sleeper coach somewhere further along.  And we do, but the bus helper who handles the luggage is now insisting on getting paid 100 rupees for handling our luggage.  Well, I already knew from earlier conversations that they could charge 20 rupees per bag, so I took my stand and held to the legal price!  The sleeper coach was nice.  Top bunk, double bed size, Windows and curtains on the aisle and window side.  Soon it became dark and we slept until first light.  With the air conditioning on, it got quite cool in the night.  I pulled in my hoodie, got out a crib quilt from my main pack and used my daypack as a pillow.  Sometime in the night I heard a slight pop, but took no real notice.  Later in the morning as we were rummaging for snacks, I discovered that the skin lotion bottle had popped it's cap and there was a lot of creamy stuff smeared on the contents of my day pack.  Well, that was enough to set Carsen into hysterical laughter.  But our day dragged on and on.  We had been told that it was a 12 hour bus ride, but then it became 15, then 18.  The bus actually took off on some pretty winding, rough back roads.  Four-wheeling through the wilderness in a sleeper coach wasn't what we signed on for.  About 166 km. from Nagpur, we were asked to change buses to another sleeper coach in much worse shape because our bus was sick.  Well, the second coach was already pretty much filled and we squeezed onto the edge of a lower bunk.  This bus seemed a lot slower especially going uphill.  Then it began stopping frequently to let people off.  The last 9 km took us about 30 minutes to travel and we arrived at the Nagpur central bus station at 4:00 p.m.  By the time our ride came, our trip was 25 hours, averaging a high rate of speed of 24 km/hr.  Conclusion?  NOT making that bus trip again.

Mumbai, India

 Thursday October 16

From the airport to our hotel was only a 30 minute taxi ride, prepaid at the taxi stand.  Rates aren't  negotiated with the driver. Mumbai is one of those cities that never sleeps.  I can't believe how many people were up at 3:00 a.m.

Coming through airport security took longer than it should.  Once at the immigration counter, we were sent back to find and fill out an immigration card.  No one was handing them out and we had to scrounge around to find one For each of us at another counter, then fill it out, loan my pen, get back in line, get our picture taken and proceed to the next centre of chaos to get our luggage.  You can imagine the din waiting for luggage at the carousel with 300+ people from a 747-400 aircraft!  Eventually all three cases arrived and we are off to customs. We turn in our card and that was it...a breeze, no inspections or questions.  Then off to the taxi counter.  I expected the taxi trip would be over an hour, but it was half that.  There is a 20% surcharge for "after dark" taxis.  Ours was a fee of 1000 rupees.  That's $20 Canadian.

The hotel doesn't have much curb appeal, but the room is clean and has a ceiling fan.  The temperature was 31C when we arrived at the airport.  I think it only goes up from there.  Carsen and I sleep until 8:30, shower and go for breakfast in the rooftop restaurant.  A thin cheese omelette and thin pieces of white toast and instant coffee.  Not quite ready for Indian fare for breakfast.

After breakfast, we prepared our water bottles with a purification tablet, stuff a few gifts into our day packs and set out to find a SIM card and Chowpatty beach.  Indian security stipulates that foreigners cannot simply purchase a SIM card without a local resident vouching for them from the city of purchase.  Well, forget the SIM card for now!

Onward to the beach, about 4 city blocks away.  The sidewalks are crowded with people and the traffic is congested and noisy.  Everyone seems to be talking with blaring horns!  On the way, we come across a young mother with a tiny baby girl, tiny and thin.  We knelt beside her to see her baby and left her with a crib quilt and 50 rupees. On our return trip, I notice the quilt was folded up on a piece of plastic to form a small mattress for the baby.  The temperature by noon is 36 C with high humidity!

Onward to the beach again.  Funny that in a city of maybe 20 million we should bump into the same helpful man that had led us to the shop where they sold SIM cards!  Again, he gave helpful directions to Chowpatty beach.  A beach with hardly a person on it! Wide, expansive, a few garbage collectors, a few people in the shade of large, sprawling trees, but no sun tanners or swimmers.  There were people sitting In the shade on the short sea wall so we followed suit.  Eventually, a couple gave us directions to the "food court".  We hiked towards the location, watched some young men playing some kind of tag game and then continued to the food court area, the famous food court area mentioned on the Internet. Typically,we were accosted by menu brandishing men trying to coax us to their stall for bhel puri.  It seemed like that was the special of the day everywhere!  After wandering through the food court on the sandy beach, we decided on cheese pizza and pineapple juice.  Not quite ready for some of the stuff we saw.  We sat near some college students who helped us with some more Hindi vocabulary.  The pizza sauce was spicier than ours in Canada.  I shared some of mine  with a young man who wandered into the dining area.  He was high on something and the other stall owners tried to shoo him away.  Oh, well.

The walk back through traffic was a bit nerve racking.  Our landmarks were still in place and we arrived back at our hotel exhausted and wet from the heat.  Showers and a little sleep until 7 p.m.  Then off to scrounge an evening meal.

After a very bland dinner, Carsen and I walked a different direction from the hotel through a few street markets until the shop owners and street vendors began wrapping up and closing down their shops.  Then to bed at 10:00 p.m., wide awake at 1:00 a.m., and 3:00 a.m. and again at 5:30 a.m. To the sound of the Muslim call to prayer.  Gotta get my clock flipped over by 12.5 hours!

Friday October 17

Breakfast was tasty this morning in the form of an omelette sandwich and a lime drink.  Caught up on news from home as the cafe has good a good internet signal.  Then we went in search of the bus station, eventually getting to it after getting several conflicting directions.  We kept getting passed off to "Enquiries", but there was no one there at that wicket.  No wonder!  The agent was wandering around talking on his cell.  Eventually, frustrated, he sent us outside the terminal to a competitor bus line that actually went all the way to Nagpur.  A young man led the way to the alternate bus and we found out there was no empty bus available until Saturday.  We booked our trip and paid a deposit to hold our spot.

After the bus booking ordeal, we took a cab back to base camp, flopped on our twin beds in the nine by ten room exhausted from the heat and humidity.  Carsen kept on sleeping, so I went to find an outlet for a SIM card for my phone.  I didn't think it would start a war!  I started at the front desk asking for a recommendation as to where I could locate a dealer.  They gave me their card and wrote the name of Jimmy Collections.  They even called him and said he would be watching for me on the sidewalk.  With clear (?) directions I headed out, actually asking several more people along the way.  I came to the Vodaphone shop and I asked for Jimmy Collections.  Yes, yes, right here.  There is a process here that must be followed.  Two photos and photocopy of passport and visa.  So we hop on his motorbike to go to a digital Photoshop and then a photocopy shop and back to the store.  We fill in the required information, including a local contact person (the hotel).  I leave the shop understanding the phone will be registered in about 4 hours once the paperwork is submitted.  Half way back to the hotel, I am met by Sunil from the hotel and another man who had gone to the hotel to get me.  He was Jimmy Collections!  He insisted I go back to the shop and told me to repeat what I had said in my first introduction.  "Are you Jimmy Collections?"  Yes, yes.  The the shouting began.  Jimmy was from the adjacent shop!  It sported a small print "Jimmy Collections" sign painted on the wall!  It was clearly a case of stolen identity to make a sale.  As the shouting grew louder, people began to gather and it became quite a spectacle.  Jimmy offers me a 50% discount, but I had already paid and the process had already started.  Sunil wobbled his head as the shouting volume increased and we slipped out as a police vehicle was arriving.  I went back at 9 p.m. and finally had my phone activated.  What an ordeal!

Still couldn't wake Carsen up so I walked along the sidewalk, checking out the vendors and stopped where a crowd had gathered around a sandwich vendor.  I watched with fascination as the two gentlemen deftly made THICK vegetarian sandwiches with sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, potatoes, beets and onions.  I bought two for 80 cents!  Got them back to the room and woke Carsen up to eat.  There doesn't seem to be places where one can get chicken or beef or bacon.  Well, time for Carsen and I to catch up on some sleep!    

Nov.7 Dark Territory

Dark Territory

Uganda turned out to be a whirlwind over four days and we were unable to correspond for a number of reasons, one being the need for a Ugandan SIM card, and another being blackouts so we couldn't charge up our equipment!

After crossing the border from Rwanda, we stopped at a service station for a rest stop.  Unfortunately, as we were disembarking from the bus, one of those wicked, sudden rain squalls came up in a rage...horizontal rain, winds that shredded the large, fabric highway sign, throwing it onto the power lines and causing some sparks.  You couldn't stand under the garage canopy for shelter because the rain came and drenched everything.  Passengers scattered and we headed for the little convenience store.  The rain beat so hard against the glass doors that the store began to flood and the proprietors were rushing for brooms and rags to stop the influx of water.  Branden had to use the facilities so urgently that he ran through the downpour about 50 yards and got into the latrines which had NO roof!  He came back absolutely drenched and shaking with cold.  Back on the bus we both changed into dry t-shirts, but Branden continued to shiver uncontrollably for quite some time.  We still had another 7 or 8 hours to go before reaching Kampala.  Branden was feeling very poorly and I began suspecting malaria since he was fluctuating from a fever to chills.

When we got to the Jaguar Bus Line depot in Kampala, we were mobbed by taxi drivers vying for our business.  Meanwhile, Branden, dizzy and unable to stand is lying flat on his back, eyes closed and moaning.  One driver insisted he was going to die if he didn't take us to a hospital immediately.  I got suspicious when a lady nearby continued to loudly harass the drivers.  I asked what the problem was and she said they were thieves who had taken her money and refused to return it or give her change.  I didn't know where to go, since Prima was supposed to meet us.  One taxi driver loaned me his cell phone so I could call her since my phone wasn't working.  Prima had just called the bus service five minutes previously and was told the bus wouldn't be in until 7:00. Well, we had arrived just before 5:00.  It would take her almost an hour to get to us given it was rush hour.  Now Branden is vomiting out both ends and needs to find a washroom to clean up.  A couple of taxi drivers help him walk to a nearby restaurant with a washroom, come back for some clean clothes that I dig out of his suitcase.  We again go through the ritual of insisting that he take us to a hospital, but I insist we have a friend coming to "pick us".   Eventually, Prima shows up and the two drivers insist on being paid.  She demands, "For what?". And they reply, for offering to take us to a hospital!  But you didn't!  I took out the money I had changed at the border and she took a 5000 shilling note and gave it to them whereupon they began to fight over the note and how it should be divided.   (Equal to about $2.00).

Prima took us to the International Medical Center located at Watoto Church, formerly Kampala Pentecostal Church.  The doctor took him in immediately, ran a complete blood work up and had the results in less than 30 minutes.  No malaria.  It was food poisoning.  An IV drip with two litres of saline  and glucose, an injection to stop the vomiting and a regimen of antibiotics.  If he improved within two hours, he might not hospitalize him.  In two hours, the fever and headache were gone and Branden, now feeling good somewhat better, was able to stand and walk quite well.  Prima drove us to the Watoto Guest House in Kansanga.  We got there about 10:30 at night.  It was a long day, over 18 hours since we had woken up to catch our taxi to the bus station in Kigali.

Tuesday (Day 2)

Early to rise, with breakfast at 7 a.m. We are picked up at 7:30 and arrive at 8:30 for team devotions.  There are 600 people present, some of them country representatives who have been here for director's meetings over the past week and a half, people from Canada, USA, Norway, Holland, UK, Australia and other countries.  An amazing worship band leads off for about 20 minutes and then we have some reports from team leaders in charge of self-sustainability projects.  There are amazing reports of the progress in establishing farms, chicken ranches, goat herds, vocational and trade schools that all contribute to the sustainability of the community.  In northern Uganda, two parcels of land, one 600 acres and another 1000 acres in size have been purchased for farms.  A good report included the construction of a dam 20 acres in size that would irrigate the 200 acre vegetable farm and store enough water to carry them through the dry season.

Bonny was assigned to us as the Watoto leader who would be our guide for the duration of our stay.  He and Benson were absolutely amazing, full of information and good ideas.  Benson was our van driver, and I must compliment him on his skills and patience, driving in the Kampala traffic.  Kampala was designed for a city of 65,000, but it now has a population of 3 million, with another million commuting in and out of the city each day for work!  The traffic jambs are horrible, causing commuters to spend up to 5 hours a day in their commute.

In the morning, we went out to the 207 acre farm that is almost in full production with crops like corn, maize, watermelon, eggplant, tomatoes, carrots,  cabbages, sweet potatoes and rice.  We were told that last  year they harvested 35,000 tonnes of rice from 70 acres.  A lot of the crops are planted in sequence so that the crops mature over a period of time rather than just the one harvest.  A lot of the crops are used to feed the 2400 orphans in the Watoto Villages.  This was the farm where they have constructed the 20 acre dam and have irrigation pipes throughout the fields so dry season will not have the dire impact it usually does.  With irrigation, it's possible to grow 3 full crops a year.  Uganda is on the equator, thus creating ideal conditions for growing.

We visited the chicken production plant where they currently have 8200 3 month old chickens that should start laying eggs in February 2014.  The entire operation is automated, from feeding to watering and egg delivery to the egg crating room.  Plans are for two more chicken barns which will result in approximately 2000 dozen eggs per day.  It will have a positive impact on the community providing local employment and supplying eggs and meat.

We then visited the goat pens where there are a couple hundred goats that provide about 500 litres of milk per day.  There were a whole lot of goats in the milking stalls ready for milking.  Each goat has an ID number and the quantity of milk from each goat is logged at each milking.  It was the funniest thing getting Branden to milk a goat.  He was squeamish and uncertain and freaked out just touching the udder and teats.  Eventually, he did manage to produce a couple of streams of milk!  It provided a lot of laughter for the hands present as they observed his antics and exclamations.

We went back to the church for the supper hour, and then back to the guest house for bedtime.

Wed (Day 3)

Pick up was a little later because of heavy traffic. We first went to "Bulrushes", the Watoto Baby House.  Interestingly, it is located on one of the seven hills of Kampala where all the important buildings, the seats of power and economy, are located;  the parliament buildings, the state house, the Supreme Court and justice buildings, and the 5 star hotels.  The Baby House formerly housed the officers quarters during the reign of Idi Amin Dada.  It had been confiscated from Asian owners under the Asian Properties Act.  After Amin was deposed, the property sat vacant for quite awhile.  Watoto saw an opportunity  for an orphanage for abandoned children, so close to the seat of power for the country, much as the baby Moses in Egypt survived under a death decree by being placed in a basket in the bulrushes and being rescued by the Pharaoh's daughter and raised under the shadow of the authority in the land.

This is the first orphanage I have ever seen that is equipped with incubators.  Newborns, including pre-mature infants, are rescued from hospitals, garbage heaps and latrines.  "Rescued, Raised, Restored" is the motto of Watoto Childcare Ministries.  The number of babies under care during our visit was 32, but there have been as many as 120 under care at one time.  The babies remain here until about the age of two and then are integrated into a family unit in one of the Watoto Village homes to be raised in a family unit with a "mom and dad and siblings".  Children with disabilities are kept longer because they need specialized care.  We found some that had cerebral palsy, scoliosis, blindness, asthma and other debilitating diseases.  But they were all being loved and cared for.  The staff is amazing!  There are nurses and trained professionals and pre-screened volunteers who give the babies the care they need.  We were surprised by the height of little sinks in the washrooms, just 16" off the floor, giving toddlers ready access to washing facilities so they learn good hygiene.  Our visit here was very moving as we were able to hug and hold these babies.

Richard had spent a year on oxygen.  Now at 3 years of age, he is very lively and has an attention span of 15 seconds before he's off running or climbing onto something.  We turned around to find he had overturned a desk on the lawn and climbed up onto the pedestal like a monkey.  He didn't seem to need any oxygen at all now and will likely graduate to a proper home environment.  I was able to hold him for less than a minute, the whole while his head turning in every direction for his next conquest.  It took 5 attempts for Branden to finally snap a picture with Richard looking towards the camera!  We met Jason in special care.  Jason has cerebral palsy and scoliosis and had contracted pneumonia.  He was on oxygen to help him breathe.  Couldn't help but stop and pray for him. There were six volunteers from Newfoundland who had come to help care for these children, some coming for six weeks, others for a little longer.

 We then headed out to Subbi Village which has 1240 of the 2400 children.  We had met Brian earlier at CLA in Kigali where he is the head cook.  He comes from Subbi and asked us to greet his family there, which we did.  Mama Maureen is a widow with 4 of her own girls (now grown up and in university) who is now a house mom to 4 girls.  Josephine and Bernadette (aged 19 and 20) and Jemima (11) hosted us for lunch.  Lunch included matoke (cooked green bananas), potatoes,  cooked peas and carrots, beans, sweet potatoes, beef stew, peanut sauce and cabbage.  It was delicious!  

We brought some gifts for the children, but they are pooled in storage for special occasions, like Christmas, and distributed fairly to all the children.  We interfered just a little, asking for a little grace for the girls who had prepared lunch for us.  They received a small note pad and pen, and were so delighted.  Whew, third suitcase down.

After lunch we toured the trades section where students are able to learn automotive, metal work, welding, amd carpentry.  A tradesman came from Canada and trained 4 young men over a three month period, who in turn trained others, now numbering about 50.  At the facility, they make the furniture, chairs, metal window frames and everything the homes need as they are built.  Very impressive!  Each new home is a duplicate of all the others that have been built.

Thurs. (Day 4)

We left at 7 a.m. and headed for Jinja at the headwaters of the Nile River where it flows out of Lake Victoria.  Three countries share this massive lake with lots of papyrus flourishing on its banks.  We took a chance that we might arrive in time to catch a rafting trip.  We arrived just before 10 a.m.  A group had arrived at the rafting company office at 8:30 and were still there waiting to leave, having donned life jackets and helmets.  Could we join them for a half day of whitewater rafting on the Nile River?  Had we booked in advance?  No.  But Moses talked to the big Australian, suggesting we could ride on the support raft and be picked up at a certain point by Bonny and Benson in the van.  So it was that Branden got to live out a dream and take on Class 4, 5 and 6 rapids on the Nile!  Well, the Class 6 we portaged half way down before putting in the rafts in a slightly calmer section of the rapids.  We got good and wet, often jumped out of the raft in the warm, calm waters and hung on for dear life in the raging waters.  Three hours later we were put ashore to join Bonny and Benson with the van.  We drove back to Kampala for a fantastic Thursday evening service on our last night in Africa. We stopped to get a couple of pizzas to go as we made our way to Entebbe and the International Airport.

Farewell Africa and all the new friends!  Wheels up at 1 a.m. on Friday morning.  We flew for 18 hours plus a 2 hour layover at Heathrow in London to land in Seattle at 11:00 a.m. on Friday morning.  How do you get to live the same day twice?  We caught a bus from Seatac at 3 pm for Surrey, BC.  Hello Canada and home!  And unforgettable 3 weeks...

Rwanda Wrap Up

The last couple of days have been ones of finishing up our time in Kigali, Rwanda.  Saturday was a homework day for Branden.  Remarkably, he has not only caught up, but completed all his assignments.  That gives both of us some relief as I don't have to keep on him about it.  We also took time to hand wash all of our dirty clothing and set them out to dry on the porch railings.  With all that work, we also had to have an afternoon nap.

Our bus tickets also arrived for our trip to Uganda.  What we were quoted was 10,000 francs each, but having Sarah get our tickets for us, we got them for 8,000 each.  That's about C$12.00 each!  Compare that to flights ranging from $950 on Kenya Air and $1800 on Ethiopian Air for two of us.  White a savings, I'd say.

We spent time visiting people on campus over lunch.  Especially Brian, who is from Kampala and had a lot of good information for us.  He is actually from one of the Watoto Villages.  He gave us his house number and wants us to visit his home.  That may even be possible!

Sunday morning we went to church here at CLA, but Branden had a bout of something that sent him running for the washrooms.  No need to elaborate, but we have been laying low all Sunday afternoon.  We met up with Fulgence who came to bid us farewell from his country.  We had supper together and a good visit.

We met another interesting young man of 28, named Felix.  He survived the genocide at 11 years of age and described to us the conditions at the time.  It was horrible and hard to imagine.  He has studied to be an accountant and will finish his fourth and final year in August.  Bit his passion is to serve God and bring reconciliation to his nation.  There are many here who have been marred by the genocide, having lost family, missing some who fled to Uganda or Tanzania.  Now some of the refugees are returning as things have returned to some normalcy in Rwanda.  But the damage done inside of people will take a long time to heal.  We have met so many of the casualties and they have their struggles coping in various ways.  I have a much better idea of what post traumatic stress syndrome is.

Well, our next communication will be from Uganda.  Looking forward to it.

Nov 1. Return to Kigali

Once again it was an early morning at Peter and Diane's, but this time Branden and I packed our backpacks so we could leave from the school and head for Kigali.  There were still some things to firm up regarding the next leg of our adventure, traveling to Uganda.

Once again we got to ride in the cool of the day in our short sleeved shirts while Peter and Diane donned clothing fit for fall or early winter. Branden and I didn't find it too cold.  Even the motorcycle drivers had coats and scarves over their faces.

At the school, Peter and I spent some time going over his plans for 'rent to own' sewing machines and how to calculate fair trade value for work the women would be doing, either mending and alterations, or sewing custom clothing.  As the women startup a small business enterprise, some may need a micro loan to get going. We fleshed out a plan that could be taught the women so they could determine a fair value for their services.

We struck out for the bus stop well before lunch.  The first bus was already packed and we would be forced to sit on the uncomfortable fold down aisle seats.  We turned the tickets back in and demanded a refund.  We paid top price for the tickets and we wanted a comfortable seat this time.  We would wait for the next bus.  And a good thing we did.  The next bus was almost empty.  We took the back seat as we would probably be the last ones off.  Finally we had leg room.  This was a little larger bus than the matatu minivans.

We got into Kigali in good time and I followed the route into the city on "Maps" on my phone which showed us where we were.  Instead of getting off at Nyamagogo which is quite a ways from our quarters, we jumped off in unfamiliar territory and asked two mototaxis to take us to CLA/Wellspring Academy.  One of them new where it was and we were off.  Only 5 minutes and we were there.  A lot sooner than the 15 it took us on the day we left.

Now we needed to organize for our Kampala trip.  I went to the office to pay for our guest house lodging and in passing asked the girl about the bus to Kampala.  Wouldn't you know it, turns out Sarah is from Kampala and has taken the same bus many times.  What we didn't know was you had to pre-purchase tickets for the bus.  It meant another trip to Nyamagogo.  But Sarah offered to pick up the tickets for us and bring them on Saturday.  At the Main office, I was trying to arrange for a taxi for 4:30 am Monday morning.  Both those girls were also from Uganda and found an English speaking taxi driver who would come that early in the morning and get us to the bus on time.  Then there was the matter of arriving in Kampala without Ugandan currency, no SIM card for the phone and no phone number for the guest house we will be staying at. I checked my email and Susan from Nairobi office bad contacted her sister in law in Kampala who had already agreed to pick us up.  Amazing!  Everything was set without hardly any effort on my part!  How does that work?  In Kin-rwandan, "Murkoze, Emana".  Thank you, God!

Well, not much else to do now than go for a late lunch/early supper and catch up on posting blogs and Facebook messages for the evening.

Oct.31. School in Ryabega Village

The house comes astir at 5:00 o'clock with the sound of roosters in the yard and the maid setting the table and the clanging of pots and pans and she begins preparations for breakfast cooked on a charcoal burner.  We sit down to a meal of pancakes with peanut butter, honey or jam toppings and coffee.  We are out the door at seven to two waiting moto taxis and wait for two more to arrive.  Because they are late they are called "masasa" or old men because they move so slow.  Actually the term is one of respect if you happen to be older, like me.

It's about a 15 minute ride to the village school where Peter and Diane teach.  The school is actually in someone's home where the living room and dining room have been rented and transformed into a sewing classroom complete with blackboard and treadle sewing machines made in China.  The dynamics are interesting as Peter and Diane teach through an interpreter and a national teacher teaches by writing notes and drawings on the blackboard.  It's a very thorough 6-month program at the end of which the students receive a certificate.  There are two sets of students a day, one class in the morning and one in the afternoon.  They range in age from 20 to 50.  Some of the students become very good at sewing and go on to successfully start a home business and to support their families.  They can use the sewing machines and make purses, handbags and clothing to sell.  The sales are split 3 ways between fabric costs, sewing machine repair and maintenance, and student income.  It doesn't take long before a student has raised enough money to buy their own machine.  Each class starts with prayer and a devotional for half an hour and then the classwork begins.  Peter is working with local pastors and church leaders to see the construction of a sewing center for a proper school and a cooperative that will produce items for sale and generate income to support the teaching staff.

While Branden was excited to try his hand at sewing on a treadle machine, Peter and I took a long walkabout through the village.  We visited the site of the new sewing center that is being built which should be finished by the new year and receive final inspection and approval by the government.  The sewing center will serve as a classroom for teaching sewing and also a cooperative where former students can sew articles for sale or garments by order.  It's great concept that will help women become self-employed and self-reliant.

On a construction note, they were digging the septic system which looks like a three-foot diameter well that is hand dug about 40 feet into the ground. One, and is down in the hole with a shortened pick and shovel, another is on top with a rope and bucket to pull up the dirt from below.  There are foot hold carved into the side of the banks of the Bole.  I peered down into the hole and could barely see some movement as the man was probably over 25 feet down to the bottom.  A good way to bring on a case of claustrophobia!  They don't  use cribbing or any of the safety protocols we have in Canada.  The sewer system empties into the capped off hole and fluids gradually seep into the ground.  Solids eventually just compost and there you have it, a septic system.

Our walk took us past a one room home where a man and his wife and three children lived.  They don't seem to need a lot to be content.  Here you can host dig up red dirt, add a little water and form mud bricks that are then dried in the sun.  When they assemble the bricks into walls they just moxie ip so fresh batch of mud and "glue" them together.  The government is now insisting that public buildings like churches use fired bricks.  All buildings need to be covered inside and out with a cement stucco coating.  It prevents deterioration and possible collapse during heavy rains and flooding.  We walked through planted fields of maize and corn and beans, staples here in Rwanda.

Our walkabout took us to the village center where new shops were in various stages of completion.  Only a couple actually sported signs.  We continued on to where a daughter church had been constructed and enough money had recently been raised to install the doors a day windows.  There is actually quite a building boom going on and Peter pointed out all the houses that had sprung up in just the past year.  As we passed mud home after mud home, the children who are out of school right now until January, would come running out to us and hug our legs or waist.  Their clothing is the same color as the ground because they sleep on the ground.

We got back to the classroom and ate the lunch Alphonsina had prepared for us.  During the afternoon class Branden and I distributed bouncy balls, skipping ropes and postcards out on the street.  Branden played soccer in the dirt lane with a dozen neighborhood kids and sure looked like it afterwards.  To go home, we walked to the highway and flagged down a Toyota pickup.  Peter and Diane got in the front and Branden and I climbed into the box.  It's amazing how many people wave and smile along the way.

We were dropped near the open market and went in search of inexpensive fabrics for Diane's sewing students.  I was able to barter some good deals as well and donated the fabric to the school.  We had a bit of an entourage following us through the market and a lot of laughing and yelling.  When we had more than we could almost carry, we summoned moto taxis and the four of us headed home.  Long days and you sure are ready for bed by 8:30.  So ends our first full day in Ryabega.

Oct 30. Nyagatare

In the morning, I did some laundry by hand, had a shower and repacked in preparation for a trip north to Nyagatare.  We took moto taxis to the Nyamagogo Bus station.  It only cost us 1000 francs each or $1.50 for a 15 minute ride.  Pretty reasonable, I'd say.  We asked at the front gate which bus would take us to Nyagatare and immediately a young man called us to follow him through the crowded bus lines to a matatu (15 passenger mini-bus) already crammed with people and often crammed with as many as 21 people and not all of them small as Branden found out.  They squeezed us on board and we waited...and waited.  We noticed the front seats were up and the engine cover was up on the front seats.  Looking out the window we saw a couple guys and the driver comparing some parts with some more on the ground.  I didn't recognize the parts very quickly, but they looked similar to starter solenoids.  We were sure we were catching the 2:00 o'clock bus, but were we sure we were going to Nyagatare?  The sign on the bus showing fares along the route didn't seem to include the name of our destination, but we were assured that we were on the right bus!

Finally, at 5 minutes past the hour, the engine roared to life and the engine cover and front seats assumed their normal position.  We had been told the bus trip would be around 2 to 2.5 hours long.  Well, this bus stopped frequently to let off 3 passengers and let 4 more on.  How is it even possible?  The traffic in the city of Kigali was really congested and sllw moving, but once we got out on the en highway there was only large lorries to contend with.  Underpowered with the weight of too many passengers, the bus driver still tried to pass everything on the road, including transportation trucks.  At one point we were halfway past a transport and the driver had to use the brakes (thank God those still worked) to slow down and slip in behind the transport before coming heading with a gravel truck.  There are always a number of close calls that make you wonder if you made the right decision about the trip.  One lady that got on the bus at a particular stop eating dedicated up sitting by Branden.  She was a bit taken with him and tried communicating with every Effort glish word she could muster.  Failing in that, she dug out some oranges and offered him one which he declined.  She would not be deterred.  She peeled the orange and was about to hand feed it to Branden.  He decided to take the now-peeled orange and feed himself.  Eventually, after more stops than we could count, we were told to transfer to another minibus that would take us to our destination.  The purser wanted 6000 francs and we were told not to pay another fare on the new bus.  I saw our driver pay the other driver from the funds we had given him. OK.  It's a good thing it wasn't much farther to Nyagatare because a rather large woman got on board and took the place of the 'orange girl'.  I was scrunched up in the back seat with my knees around my ears.  Branden was squished between me and the big one.  We're we ever glad when the bus pulled to a stop at our destination about 10 minutes later.

We got into Nyagatare about 5:30, only a half hour before dark.  We were immediately surrounded by moto drivers on their bikes wanting us to hire them to go where?  We didn't know where to go as we expected Peter would be there waiting for us.  One moto driver pushed up to Branden and asked him if he was a boy or a girl.  His hair is short enough that it was hard to tell for an African, and besides, he was wearing lime green shorts that were gender neutral, so the guy felt he could honestly ask the question.  Branden was pretty angry about that, but he remained calm and didn't give the guy a knuckle sandwich.  We moved over beside a soldier carrying an automatic weapon, exchanged pleasantries and called Peter on the two numbers he had given me.  The call would not go through on either number.  What now? I sent a request to his Facebook address, still no response.  Meanwhile, we are drawing a lot of attention from bystanders and it is getting darker.  I find a phone number for Diane and rang it.  Whew!  Diane answered and Peter is at home waiting for my call, which I had tried both on the bus and at the bus stop. He would be on his way shortly.  I think I asked at least three times if he was on his way yet and he hadn't even left the house!  Finally, Diane said he was out the door and on his way, really.  Eventually, he showed up on a moto taxi. That's what they usually use for transportation. We hired two more and rode to his place, arriving at 6:00 just as the curtain of night dropped down around us.

Alphonsina, the house maid, had a wonderful supper prepared for us and I caught up with about 17 years that had passed since I last saw Peter and Diane in Watson Lake, Yukon.  They are now over here in Rwanda affiliated with Youth with a Mission.  I called my Diane in Canada on Skype to let her know we had arrived safely.  I forgot to close the call as the phone was passed from person to person.  During that time I brought out the package my Diane had prepared and sent along for our friends.  It was Thanksgiving dinner!  Including a stuffed turkey!  Well, their was an excited scream as I brought out each item and placed it on the table.  A can of pumpkin pie filling, a can of cranberries, 2 packages of gravy mix, 2 packages of Idaho mashed potatoes, a package of cake mix, cupcake liners, scented candles in glass candleholder and a hotpad.  Then I dug deep to bring out the stuffed turkey.  Now I have taken a real frozen turkey all the way to Thailand, to be sure.  With baited breath, everyone waited as I slowly pulled out a ”webkins” stuffed toy turkey!  The beauty of it was that my Diane heard it all through the open phone line on Skype without us realizing it!

Soon after all the excitement, we prepared to call it a night as Peter and Diane's day starts early at 5:00 a.m. And we are going to be up and gone with them at 7:00 a.m. to the school.

Wellspring and Rain

Why can't I sleep past 5:00 a.m?  I think it is because that's when the birds are the noisiest. It's also when all the crickets and night bugs stop their chirping because the birds are waking up.  It he sounds of Africa are amazing!  You don't need an alarm here.  I even wake up now at the sound of a mosquito in the night.

Jeff gave us a one hour tour of the complex, explaining the vision of developing a Christian school of the highest educational standards.  Much of the teaching and learning style here is by rote and memorization, the "chalk and talk" scenario with little student input and participation.  They began 7 years ago with kindergarten and the lower grades.  They gradually added more grades until in January they will add Grade 10.  This year they received the highest recognition by being awarded a certificate for the top academic school in the District of Kigali.

To achieve the goals of reaching international standards of education, they have also begun an intense teacher training program featuring in service practical experience using more interactive teaching styles.  In fact, the program is receiving so much attention that they are training 2 head teachers from each of 800 schools.  Because they have trained Rwandans to teach Rwandans, the program is looked on very favorably by the Ministry of Education.

The school has grown to 500 students and eventually will have capacity for all the grades right up to Grade 12.

When the Komants first came to Rwanda, this piece of property was the least desirable plot in the city.  It was 17 acres of undeveloped overgrown brushland.  In 12 years it has been developed into a complex that includes the church auditorium with it's administration offices, several residences, classroom buildings, 2 science buildings, a library, covered meeting areas, playgrounds another administration buildings housing offices for the school and the Wellspring Foundation.  Almost the entire property is beautifully landscaped with one corner that is rented for outdoor weddings.  But by satellite, the drainage ditch looks like a natural stream bed, but is actually a concrete, stone lined run-off channel.  The foundation spearheads the teacher development program and the catering group that provides food to the students 5 days a week.

At another corner of the property with a separate access gate and guardhouse, a firstclass medical clinic is under construction. It will be open to the community at large.  It is a beautiful 2-storey building that houses offices, waiting rooms, toilets showers, examination rooms and doctor's offices.

Ingeniously, about seventeen 40-foot shipping containers have been configured in such a way as to provide 2-storey storage space with a roof spanning them to provide a dry metal working shop area for fabricating everything from metal bench brackets to railings and metal doors and posts.  It is also where they keep things like wheel barrows, welders, cement mixers, etc.

With what we saw today, you would want a dry place to work.  At noon, the heaven's opened and the rain beat down, rather across...horizontally!  Even with a 10 foot awning over the patio, rain canhit the windows!  We happened to be in a corner room above the church auditorium having lunch when the rain hit.  You could not see past the tree outside the window.  The rain literally thundered.  It was like trying to look out your car windows in a carwash.  The rain was so intense I thought the windows might crack.  Brandon thought it would be cool to go out and have look.  He got an umbrella from somewhere and went to open the door which knocked him backwards as soon as he unmatched it.  The force of the wind and rain was unexpected.  He tried to take a video with his ipod andhe sounded like a reporter giving a commentary on a tsunami!  Fifteen seconds and he was more than soaked...the umbrella not doing one bit of good.  Locally, they have been praying for rain.  The bean crops are planted and rain was sorely needed.  The price of beans has tripled because of poor bean production and it is a staple food here.

The rain kept us indoors for part of the day, but by 4:00 we were able to walk the 12 minutes to the MTN Center for supper and some breakfast groceries.  Then home again...In the dark.

Oct.28 Ride to the City

Catching a ride with Pastor Ed from Victory Family Home Of Champions into Kigali is one of the smarter things we did today.  Hauling two suitcases, three backpacks and a bag onto a matatu would have been a colossal nightmare!  And it most likely wouldn't go to our doorstep either.

Ed takes two of his children to the international school which is just like an American school and based on the American school system.  Since the family is returning to the US it makes sense.  The school is basically for the children of diplomats and International dignitaries that come to work in Rwanda on a long term basis.

It so happens that Ed drops the kids off at the school and then drives right by the front gates of Christian Life Assembly. It was kind of him to agree to take us, but it meant being at the road at 7:00 a.m. He stopped along the way to fuel up the Landcruiser.  Regular gas is 1000 francs per litre or about C$1.50.

Dropping the kids off at a school with armed guards at the gates really took Branden by surprise!  But with children of high profile people in the country, the protection needs to be extended to the most vulnerable.

Ed drove us onto the CLA grounds and took us almost to the door of our guest house accommodations.  We unloaded and went in search of a key and found Jeff in the Administration Offices of the Wellspring Foundation.  We walked leisurely through the grounds, gleaning information along the way.  What an amazing operation.  We scheduled an hour with Jeff to get a guided tour of the whole operation the next day.

Our quarters were more than adequate and very comfortable.  We took the rest of the morning to have hot showers and get cleaned up.  There is a catering group on campus that provides meals for the school.  We are able to eat a big cooked lunch for 2500 Rf each (less than $4).  Now we are really feeling spoiled!  After a lunch like that, it's time for a nap of course.  Then it's homework, journalist and blogging.  We can't get a wifi password until tomorrow, so to connect to the Internet we need to go to the Bourbon Cafe at the MTN Center.  It's only about a 12 minute walk.

When we reach the MTN Center, I am able to get unlimited Internet on my phone for a week for about $10.  And I top up my airtime for the phone.  Next surprise.  The ATM's here don't accept Mastercard.  OK, we'll go and eat supper.  The supper tab came to a little more than what I had, and Branden hadnt brought any money.  Down three floors I raced to get what I had left of Kenyan currency changed into francs.  Now we had enough.  We walked home in the dark down a cobblestone street, wondering why the street was vacant and coming up with scenarios that got more weird with each one.  I mean, is this street one that has a reputation for muggings or robberies?  There are no street lights...I wonder why.  Look!  There's someone coming out of the bush...and he's got a stick!  It's a piece of bamboo.  Grab it, Branden!  Why me?  Cause you said you could run real fast!  Just then the shadowy figure turned off the street onto a path that took him away from us.  So much excitement.

I tried accessing my bank account on the cell phone that night with my new unlimited connection, but my bank must have recognized a foreign source for the access request and blocked my password.  Not much we can do now but research a few options.  I texted a friend in Rwanda who is also from Canada.  He too had serious difficulties in transferring money on his first trip.  On a return trip to Canada, he got an international Visa Debit card and has no trouble at all now, unless a bank machine has run out of money.

I have time to make a Skype call to my Diane in Canada before she heads out the door to work,  and I turn in for the night.