Two nights ago Paul and I sat outside and noticed Alice sitting in the dark crying. We both asked here why she was crying and she put her head down and refused to answer. After a while, we decided perhaps we should just leave her alone, and went to bed. At midnight Viola, who shares a bed with Alice, awoke Scovia to say that Alice had been crying for hours and wouldn’t say what was wrong. Scovia got up and tried to talk with Alice. Did I abuse you? Did Viola abuse you? Did the Paul or Melanie abuse you? Did Isaac abuse you? Alice simply shook her head and cried harder. Isaac got up from bed and tried comforting her and tried to determine the problem. Did someone die in your village? Has some bad man defiled you? FINALLY he asked Did you do something bad? Yes! Alice did something bad and was certain she would be sent home to her village. She finally choked out that she had burned the water heating pot! Isaac had purchased an electric pot to heat water for Paul and I because each time we wanted warm water to wash up in, or hot tea, Alice had previously had to light the charcoal stove, get water, heat it up, and it took forever. So he spent 40,000 Ush or about $20 US for this electric pot. Alice had forgotten and left the pot plugged in and it burned. Since she only earns 30,000 a month she was absolutely certain that Isaac and Scovia would send her away.

Isaac told her not to worry, that it was only a pot (although $20 US is a LOT of money for him!) The next day I went to Kampala and stopped on my way home to buy ice cream for Alice. (The ice cream here is an awful concoction, but Alice loves it.) When I handed it to her she said, You love me and I told her yes, I do love you. She smiled and said Scovia and Isaac too! Today my Sweet Alice-ee is all smiles once again, although her eyes are puffed out like the killer frog I found in my room last week.

It appears that hairdressing school is 6 months long and may cost as little as 400,000 Ush. I am feeling more hopeful. Alice can’t go to the school until she is 16 and will ask her mother when her birthday is. I hope her mother remembers!!!

All of the doors here are metal with a slide latch. Above the latch is a hole that is about 5” in diameter which you leave open if you are accepting guests. I had mine closed today because I was sick and had been unable to hold food or liquids. (Not to worry because I am starting to feel better). I was sleeping and Alice opened my door hole, stuck her eye in the space and started whispering my name. When I rolled over and told her to come in, she bounced in to tell me that one of her sisters had arrived and she wanted me to meet her. So I got up to meet her sister who I later learned is 17 years old. When we were introduced, her sister covered her head with her arms and giggled and wouldn’t look at me. Alice tried and tried to get her to look at me, but all she could do was laugh and cover her face. I THINK they look alike but I don’t know for certain. This is the sister she misses the most. She had another sister that died of AIDS. She doesn’t know why her father died. He just died in his sleep.

Tonight Paul came home from Bidibika—the state mental asylum in Kampala—where he is working this week with all sorts of people including children traumatized by being kidnapped from the LRA (and later escaped or recovered somehow). After an emotional day he pulls out his guitar to relax and more often than not the children from around here come to dance while he sings and plays. So we are all sitting outside when one of the tiny girls fell face down on the hard dirt and CRIES CRIES CRIES. She is not hurt except for a tiny scratch on her forehead but when they know that when they CRY around a muzungu, they generally get held and cuddled so they really CRY. I remembered that I brought from the USA a box of brightly colored fancy band aids and went and got one. Once this bright green band aid was on her little forehead she was suddenly well and thought herself very special. She was greatly admired by the other children. I hope this doesn’t cause a series of future disasters among the village children necessitating brightly colored band aids, but I predict it will!

We sat outside way after dark this evening with the children. They are trying to teach us a children’s song in Luganda that we will later use when working with little children around Uganda. Their mothers came to help. The village neighbors are now finding the muzungus pretty entertaining and no longer hesitate to come over themselves, nor do they worry when their children come over. And the children are here now whenever we are. They run to us as they see us heading home and escort us. Now that Paul has purchased a drum, he plays the guitar, I drum (badly), and the children dance. Every day.

I missed my meeting with the Minister of Gender this morning since I was ill. I hope he will see me tomorrow. I need information surrounding the need and best placement for a new orphanage. I have found only one official report—from 2007—indicating at that time this district had nearly 77,000 orphans. I know there are children on waiting lists to get into orphanages, some of whom will remain street children until additional orphanages are constructed. Still, I need updated figures so that I can put together the concept paper in preparation of a grant request for land for the orphanage. We now have a firm commitment of a few farm animals so that the orphanage can begin to be self sustaining as soon as we are built.’ We would like to get help as well beginning an organic farm on the orphanage premises.

I went back into Kampala yesterday to a “shopping mall” recommended by a travel book as THE place for westerners to shop. Like everything else here, it was a 1950 or 1960’s throwback, but there were Indian and Chinese and an attempt at a Western restaurant(s). I was excited to see hamburgers on the menu and ordered one. One bite and I had to remove the meat and just eat the bun. I don’t know what the hell kind of mystery meat they were using but it tasted like a salt lick and was wholly uncooked. Yuck! Still, there was a grocery store there that sold western items like Nivea lotion. I didn’t need any, but I bought it anyway. It now has a place of honor on my floor, along with my family photos…something to remind me of home! The trip was well worth the nasty travel (and ONCE AGAIN getting thrown out of the taxi half way home!!!) because I found small bags of whole bean African coffee. I have no way to grind beans or cook the coffee but I will when I get home! African coffee is pretty darned wonderful!

As always, trips to Kampala necessitate actual showers so I walked to the Crane Hotel and purchased one last night. In their lobby was an ancient tv playing an old American sit-com with Tom Hanks in it. I think this one was from the early 1970’s. It had all been dubbed in Lugandan. Living in Uganda is like living in a weird time warp where you can walk from the 1970s into the 1950s and in some villages, straight into the Dark Ages.

The walk home from the Golden Crane is long and dark and I couldnt find a boda. Finally one stopped and when I asked him "how much" the creep asked me for 7,000 Ush for what is normally a 1,000 Ush ride (for me. It is 500 Ush for non-muzungu). I told him I would rather walk home. He finally gave in and let me aboard his boda for 1,500 Ush. They all think they are great businessmen these boda boda guys:-)