Enjoy that Starbucks Coffee!

George recently reported that he had been in a Boulder Starbucks that was selling crafts from Rwanda. I wondered how to get our crafts into Starbucks and found out that for us, it will be a no-go. But for the people of Rwanda it is a very cool deal. The following should make my Starbucks-loving daughter feel better every time she goes for coffee…

The market for fair trade coffee insures that the world’s coffee farmers receive a minimum price for their coffee regardless of world price fluctuations. Since the majority of the world’s coffee farmers are small landowners in developing nations, companies interested in making public good investments have signed licensing agreements with TransFair which monitors the coffee growing to make sure that fair wages and decent working conditions are in place. Starbucks has made commitments through TransFair with Rwanda and with Aceh (Indonesian tsunami location) to work with coffee farmers in those countries. Starbucks actually works on the ground with farmers in those countries to ensure high coffee bean quality; pay for attractive packaging, and then offer one of these coffees as a monthly special. So if you want to pay more per gallon for a cup of coffee at Starbucks than you do for a gallon of gas at your local station, know that at least a portion of your purchase is supporting a poor coffee farmer in a developing nation.

Today we went to the Seeta Hill College to see a child and youth competition for drumming and dance. It rained while there and the temporary tents we were under threatened to collapse under the weight of the water. Men were taking plastic chairs and hitting the edges of the tent to release water, and physically holding up the poles. A few women with children chose to stand in the rain rather than risk being under the tent if it collapsed. It felt pretty darned wonderful to be wet and sort of cold. The heat and humidity has been suffocating this week. The rain lasted for about 40 minutes. Then the competition resumed. But not until we listened to a 30 minute speech given by the head mistress about “our Dear Director”. We stayed long enough to see one singing/dancing production and left in search of food. We were starving because…

We are out of water at home. Our rain holding tank is totally dry and the women of the family all left early in the morning with Jerri cans to find a well with water. Many are dry in this village. That took them so long that breakfast was an ear of cold corn on the cob for which we were grateful. By 2PM we were starving. So…on to the Rydar Hotel, also in Seeta. (Unfortunately, Mukono did not get the downpour that Seeta did. We are still out of water).

The Ryder is as close to a nice hotel as is in these parts. I was impressed. They had a buffet and Paul and I pigged out. We were a bit disappointed that even here, the mainstay of the buffet was matoke and rice, but starving people aren’t picky. I loved the cucumber soup and poured g-nut (peanut) sauce all over the rice. Yum! We are going back tomorrow night as they are having an African Dance Troup dancing in their gardens for free (we will probably have to buy a drink or something).

Sunday!

At 5AM on this morning I awoke to hear drums and men shouting from a distance. The drums and the rhythmic shouting grew closer and closer. It sounded like something military and I wondered what the military would be doing way out here at 5AM. I looked out just in time to see about 40 young men running past us, again with the drum and rhythmic singing. They weren’t in uniform. I found out later it was the Boy Guides, or Uganda’s version of Boy Scouts. I thought Boy Guides were only in Kampala. American boys are smarter than to create a stir at 5AM on a Sunday morning! American boys would be in big trouble...

It must be payday or something because there is a sudden resurgence in food here at the house. Breakfast this morning was porridge AND samosas. Samosas are fried bread pockets with beans inside. I’ve seen them with chicken mixtures too, but these had beans and very tasty. Scovia, Alice and Viola make the best beans! I will miss them when I go back to canned beans someday…

After breakfast Paul and I took Alice to see her mother. We stopped first to buy bread, sugar, etc., to take to her and then headed over to the Colline Hotel because Paul was feeling coffee deprived. We sat outside. Alice ordered milk and after asking for it twice over a period of 30 minutes, Paul went into the restaurant to ask the problem. The milk was THAWING. Their milk is frozen. We learn, we learn…

We went all the way out to Alice’s village only to find that her mother was in the hospital in Jinja, although I could never figure out the problem. Her brother’s wife was there (they don’t have in-laws here) and we visited a bit. Alice had asked me to bring my laptop so that her mother could see the photos from last visit. In her absence I shared the pictures with her brother’s wife. Later, BrosWife (I am guessing her to be about 22 years old) offered to take us to see a farm and we went. It is about 2 km before you leave Alice’s Nothing Village and start to see some pretty areas. Our walk started across the top of the mountain and then entered a long, slow drop into a densely treed ravine. I heard what sounded like monkeys but paid no attention since the birds outside my windows imitate monkey sounds daily. Suddenly BrosWife had a thought, stopped, and asked thoughtfully, “Are you fearful of monkeys?” Heck no, we were excited to see them! We continued our walk to the bottom to view a cow watering hole and took a few pictures. There were birds on the ground and one type was about the size of a pigeon but was as bright red as Santa’s suit. We asked her what it was, and learned that it was a “bird”. She repeated the word “bird” slowly twice so that we understood that what we were asking about was a bird.

We passed some huge bulls eating in open areas and in teasing Paul, I again offered to pay for his way to Seeta later in the evening if he would kiss one of the bulls. He wasn’t actually going to but moved forward as if he was. BrosWife saw him moving toward the bull and became very upset with a long series of NO NO NO NO no no! We frightened her and felt badly. Throughout the trip she would often hold my hand as many women do once they know you. She also asked me if I would take her to America. When I told her that I could not, she turned to Paul and asked him if he would take her to the UK. She recovered quickly from both rejections and said she would come to our home on Monday.

We walked out of the wooded area (never did spot a monkey in the dense tree canopies,) across a field and back into another heavily forested area. She wanted to show us some kind of berry. The berries are high in very tall trees, were black, and about the size of a grape with a seed in the center. There was a man so high in the tree that he was difficult to spot (no wonder we couldn’t see even smaller monkeys!) and he would drop the berries to a man below who stood on the ground looking up and holding out cloth about the side of an apron. If he didn’t catch them correctly, the berries burst and would be no good for sale. I got too close and got splattered with a wad of berries, turning my orange shirt permanently dark blue splattered. That incident became the afternoon's entertainment for the men working there. The berries taste like a version of elderberries, but with a slightly bitter aftertaste. On the edge of this big stand of trees sat little children, eating berries which had fallen from the trees naturally—many of which were squashed and dried out—but they seemed to enjoy them anyway.

We left and I went to the Golden Crane to purchase my weekly shower. After I washed I dried and there was red dirt all over my towel. I washed again. And again. Finally, I got this dirt out of my skin. Made a note to myself to buy a small brush to scrub myself with next time.

At 530p Paul and I traveled to the Rydar Hotel in Seeta so that we could see the African dancers who entertain in the gardens every Sunday. These people sang and danced and played the drums for 3 hours straight and I loved every minute of it. The entertainers are Buganda Tribe as was most of the audience. Some of the audience members would occasionally sing along or get up and dance with them. Both men and women wore their goat skins which exaggerates their already exaggerated movements, but man, oh man, are these people athletic!!!! Except for Paul and I and perhaps 6 other people, everyone was a local villager.

The commentator decided to entertain the group before the dancing and singing started (and drumming! Oh man, can they drum!) by talking about people in the audience, starting with Westerners. He was so on target that Paul and I cracked up. First he did an imitation of Westerners: Stood there and then said pleadingly, “Coffee. Where can I please find coffee”? And it is true! Paul and I must have coffee and have been known to travel fair distances to get it! Then the commentator said that Westerners don’t go anywhere without their torches, and did some imitations of us with our torches. I was tempted to take mine out of my backpack and turn it on. Mine goes everywhere with me, even taking it to bed and laying it next to my pillow so that I can see creatures that invade my space at night (i.e. chickens and frogs). The rest of the show was so good that we are going back next Sunday night. It is free and free is good.

I had my first and only true scare on the way home. We boarded a taxi in Seeta and I sat in back between to men who it turned out were drunk and arguing badly. They were not only arguing between themselves, they were yelling at the driver and conductor. Everyone continued to face forward and ignore them, and I was concerned that if it got physical, I would be caught in the middle. By the time we got to Mukono they had tired of their argument. We got off early and walked a short way rather than stay on the taxi. I adore the Ugandan people but evidently they have their jerks too.

Today’s work is two-fold: Morning will be working on an organic farm BoHU helped villagers start (if I am understanding this correctly) and the afternoon will be working with the women who make crafts. Looking forward to it…