Scoops

On Friday afternoon it was hot and we were glad it was the weekend. Tori and I had planned to walk into Mukono to buy the fixings for rice crispy treats. Usually we leave around 7 pm but at around 5 she suddenly had the hugest craving to get ice cream. Now the only place to find decent non melted ice cream is this little shop in the middle of tin shanty houses. This place seems so strange because it legitimately resembles an ice cream shop with mirrors on the walls and photos of ice cream treats. There are 4 choices of ice cream vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and mango that’s it. I had never been there so tori lead the way. I must have been extremely annoying because I complained the whole way there. My bag was heavy; I was carrying my laptop and a jerry can full of water. Well the place ended up being farther than she thought so we were hot and tired we finally get there and just as I walk around the corner to enter, all of the IMME girls pop out and yell happy birthday and start singing. They had planned a surprise party for me, we came in and they bought me a scoop of chocolate ice cream. We hung out for awhile and I told them I had made no-bakes the night before and since we were close to home they could all walk up to my house and try one. As is custom for an African having a birthday, on the way home the whole group plotted and executed a full on water dousing. We got home and only my 19 year old host brother was home. He was thrilled to have 13 beautiful women brought home, seemingly just for him. We ate no-bakes and hung out for a bit longer. All in all it was a great day, even though it wasn’t actually my b-day yet. On Sunday my actual b-day tori and a group of us went up to the capital city to go to church, shop and eat a big American birthday lunch at New York Kitchen. I don’t think I have ever had a better tasting strawberry milkshake in my life. Well thank you all who wished me a happy birthday, it was still a good day even though I couldn’t be with you all back home.

School Fees

So tori and I were walking home from school one day and there were a couple of kids a boy and a girl walking behind us so we started talking to them. The girl was really talkative but they boy never said anything. She told us her name it was long and I forgot it as soon as she said it. She was really small but convinced us that she was 10 years old. We asked if the boy was her brother but she said he was her uncle. Strange but not that uncommon, well then she whispered to me that she needed a sponsor. Right there I felt like crying. We asked her about her school and asked how far it was to walk; she then told us how much her year’s tuition cost. It was 60,000 shillings, which translates to $30, I wanted to cry even more, Most people have enough money in their bank accounts to pay for her and her brother to continue school clear thru college without breaking a sweat. Tori and I being broke college students we told her that we didn’t have any cash to pay her school fees; we were paying our own fees. She laughed and said all white people had money. Someone had taught her at a young age that all white people have money and if you ask them they will give it to you. I asked her if she knew any Africans who had lots of money and she said yes and I told her that just like Africa some white people had money and some white people didn’t. She thought I was so funny, granted Americans do have way more money than the average African. It’s so sad to think how inexpensive it really is to send a kid to school. I was reminded how hard it is to raise school feels this morning. Our brother who goes to high school is usually up before we are ready and leaving for school. But he was in casual clothes and so we asked him if there was a special holiday that closed school today. He said no, he said they hadn’t raised the school fees to keep him in school. Tori and I walked to school filled with so much frustration and shame at our wealth that we hoard. Its frustrating being here and not having those resources available to change this injustice. I don’t know the entirety of my purpose here in Uganda, but I know it has been to break me and make me understand the poverty that is felt here, and to really understand how wealthy we are back in the states. Sorry if this all sounded a little preachy, but I just wanted you as my family and friends to understand and maybe appreciate a little more the blessings that God has given you as Americans.