When the right decision is the hardest.

I need to write a blog. No really when I get back to Uganda, I’m going to sit down once a week and write. I’m going to write about everything, not just the snip-its people read on Facebook. Really tell the story of living here in Uganda. That’s what I said to myself two weeks ago when I was back in the US.

I really hope this is the start of writing weekly, but I can’t make any promises.

I arrived back to Uganda last Wednesday morning at about 3 am. Jack picked me up and we headed to a guesthouse in Entebbe to catch up on sleep and well to catch up without the love and energy four boys who haven’t seen their mom in 8 weeks exude. I called Mary the girl who kept the boys for those 8 weeks and told her I’d be home the next day.

Mary called the next morning at 11 and the boys were all shouting, vying for the phone as she was telling me they knew I was going to be back that day, they had showered, dressed and were anxiously awaiting my arrival home. I told them I’d be home by 2. At about 12:30 they called asking what color van we were going to be in, as they were watching all the cars from the main road drive past waiting to see “uncle jack’s or as they now affectionately refer to him as daddy, a name Michael chose and profusely insists upon when I slip up and call him Uncle Jack”.

Upon our arrival it was all hugs, smiles and they were ready to go out for pizza and chicken and chips, I could not disappoint them so we loaded back into the car and went into town.

Mary let me know as I walked in the door she’d been accepted into university and Tanja my former American roommate had offered to pay for her first semester. I was so happy for Mary, she’s a bright girl and deserves so much more of a future than being my “house girl” as her position is commonly referred to here…I preferred to call her my House Manager, because really she ran the show. And the term “house girl” makes my skin crawl.

I was sad for myself, I’d no longer have someone who had a good rapport with the boys, could help me around the house and stay with them when I’m in Kampala working late or traveling outside of the country. I quickly knew I was going to have to make some hard decisions before the next term, which starts on September 8^th.

I made the excruciating decision to put the two younger boys into boarding school with the two older boys. Let’s face it being a parent is hard. Being a single parent is harder. Being a single parent for the first time in your life to four children who are 6-13 years old few people would make that choice but so far I'd make that decision over and over every day for the rest of my life. 

Being a parent in a developing country, where you can’t just throw them in the car, run them thru the drive thru or order pizza, what do you mean I have to cook these kids three meals a day? Oh and their laundry has to be done by hand because that’s how most people do it here. Oh right and run a non-profit. And travel back to the US to make money because you haven’t quite gotten the hang of raising enough money to collect a salary from your non-profit that you go back to your old career to make money. Most of the money that you make goes right back into those kids that you love so much and the whole reason really why you moved here is to be in their life, yeah now they are going to be tucked a way in a boarding school while you’re just down the road…hanging out by yourself. yes I cried making this decision, the one side of my brain tried to search for ways on how I could make it work, keeping them home, but knowing there was just no way I could move The Bernie Project along, go back to the US to work and keep some semblance of stability and safety for my boys. Boarding school was the right and hardest decision. 

Their new school isn’t like their former school. Their old school I could scoop them up on Wednesday and take them swimming if I wanted to, or take them out of class for 3 weeks. No one would have cared. Their new school, it’s real with rules. Sure I can go visit them, but not like every day or even every weekend.

I cried to Jack. I mean I really cried. It’s not the decision I wanted to make, but it’s for the best. Mahadi seems so little to be sending away to boarding school, where he will have to make his own bed, do his own wash, hopefully the matron will remind him to brush his teeth before he goes to bed. Michael is so sensitive, little mama’s boy, he’s been under my feet since I stepped back in the door. He can’t get enough attention from me. But he’s struggling to catch up in P3 and being in boarding means he will hopefully improve. When I told the boys they were going to boarding school they were more ok with it than I expected. Last term Mahadi wanted to go but that was just because the big boys had suitcases and there were snacks inside. September 7^th is going to be a hard day for me, I’m going to need big sunglasses and a painted on smile and try not to boohoo all over the teachers and matrons “who is this mzungu mom who can’t keep it together, it’s just boarding school woman, not the army or outer space”. 

To most Ugandans, boarding school is a way of life and many will tell you it’s the best thing for a child, where they learn manners and responsibility, etc.

I’m trying to look on the bright side for myself. I’ll be able to devote more time to developing the new initiatives in my head. Maybe meet some new people. Maybe see more of Uganda and Africa. Figure out how to make money without having to leave the country so much. Maybe learn some new recipes before the boys come back home for the holidays or maybe I’ll just sit on my couch and eat corn flakes.

I didn’t feel I could find someone the boys would like and I would trust in the next 6 weeks to stay with the boys for another 8 weeks as I head out of the country again for work in October and November.

I’m cherishing these next two weeks while all four are home for the holidays. Trying to be patient. Trying to say yes as much as I can without spoiling them. Figuring out how to make pasta and rice 25 different ways between now and then, so they can keep telling me my food is "Awesome"...that's how low their bar for food has been set, when my food is deemed "Awesome". Finding some time to have fun but also preparing to repack the big boys for boarding and shop for the little boys for boarding.

Two weeks ago I thought my weekly blog would be about life with two little boys in my house and what it’s like to be a mom in Uganda…now it might just be my cooking failures and photos of me sitting on the couch eating cornflakes.

Danke. Gracias. Merci. Terim Kasih. Salamat Po. Khob Kun Ka. Asante. Webale Nyo. Thank you.

As I was starting to write my blog today I had to count the weeks from when I launched The Bernie Project....you should have heard the surprise in my voice when I counted 6....6...really...just 6...6. huh...6 weeks. It feels MUCH longer than 6...not in a bad way...just longer than 6. In fact I just went back to count on my calendar...still 6.

There have been numerous times since June 21^st where I have been overcome by the love, support and generosity of friends, family and strangers. On more than one occasion I have asked myself “How do I adequately express the gratitude I have for the love and support I have experienced since launching The Bernie Project?” 

On June 21^st I sent an email to pretty much everyone in my address book about the launch of The Bernie Project. I received my first PayPal notification email (PS- Love those emails!) from Roger from Visions Made Viable the non-profit incubator who manages all my administrative and financial needs. My first donation was substantial and from a former colleague and her mom. That email made me realize for one- this was real and two- people were already behind me. I cried. Since then, the donations that have come in both small and large with their own stories and reasoning behind why they support me, why they support The Bernie Project and our mission to positively impact the lives of the kids at the Wakiso School of Hope, has been awe-inspiring and overwhelming. 

The notes from friends who have shown their kids The Bernie Project website and had discussions with their kids about what life must be like in Uganda and how they can help their peers half way across the world. From selling their own beloved possessions, donating part of their allowance or raising money for The Bernie Project for their birthday instead of accepting gifts is a tremendous display of generosity.

The collaborative discussions with old friends about how the US organizations they work with can partner with The Bernie Project whether it’s creating a pen-pal program, planning a trip for 2014 and or raising funds and awareness to The Bernie Project is so awesome.

The examples above are just a few of the amazing  moments that have happened since the launch of The Bernie Project. I’m 11 days away from leaving on a 9-day trip to Uganda. It is action packed and I can’t wait to share with you all the fantastic things you have made possible.

I’ll continue to express my thanks on my blog, on Facebook, on Twitter, in handwritten thank you cards (yours will be in the mail soon, I swear), in person, out loud, via text and in my head. I don’t know when I’ll be satisfied that I’ve adequately expressed the gratitude that is in my heart.  Until then….Thank you.

With Abundant Gratitude,

April

LIVE while you're breathing.

It could have been my grandma dying unexpectedly when I was 15 that left the impressionable realization that life is damn short and you better make the most out of it.

If it were up to me I’d live 50 lives, I often play the “in my next life I’d like to come back as a lead singer of a band or an Olympic gymnast”. I can tell you those things were never and will never be attainable in my current lifetime.

Some of the more realistic things I’ve wanted to be or do in my lifetime-- In first grade I wanted to be a world traveler, in high school I wanted to be a teacher and I wanted to go into the Peace Corps, in college I wanted to be a fashion buyer. I’ve wanted to be an entrepreneur. I’ve wanted to teach English as a second language. I’ve wanted to own a Bed and Breakfast. I’ve wanted to import cool things from different countries into the US. I’ve wanted to be a philanthropist. Life feels like all of a sudden all of these careers are snowballing into one thing, which is so cool and I’m so thankful.

I was chatting with a friend of mine the other day and I said without question this move to Uganda is a “universe inspired, God-thing”. She pointed out that I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am today, and while I agree, I must say “at the point of commitment the universe conspires with you”, is a seemingly true statement.

There are also HUGE moments of self-doubt: Will I be successful at running The Bernie Project? Will I adapt to living in Uganda? Will people come visit me? What if I get malaria? Why did I just sell everything I own? And then I breathe through it and I tell myself those are all fear based thoughts and I know based on my experiences in life that I will adapt and while I’m sure there are going to be days that I want to quit and continue to live a really cushy, fab life planning corporate events all over the world, there will be many more days I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

In recent weeks I’ve had conversations with two friends, one who is battling a persistent case of MRSA and another who just had a bilateral mastectomy on Friday. As I celebrate the launch of The Bernie Project, I just can’t get over both of their personal health struggles. It makes me so thankful for my current health and also reaffirms that life is indeed short and we should make the most of it.

Yesterday, after the Asiana Airlines plane crash in San Francisco, I emailed my friend who is a lawyer, with the intent of creating a will, funeral planning, whatever else I need to do so that when I die, whoever is dealing with my death, knows what I want, how I want my body and funeral arrangements handled. I’d like to state and this will be written down and notarized…under no circumstances should anyone pay for my body to be flown anywhere, just cremate me and spread my ashes in a few key locations worldwide.  While morbid and many of you will say come on you’re only 36, it’s something we should all be thinking about.

Me and Thomas on the Charlotte Speedway,
so glad I let him drive, even though I really wanted to!

This morning, I woke up to an email that my friend Thomas died on Thursday, cause unknown and he was only 45ish…I’m still in shock. I really can’t believe he’s gone. The strangest thing happened on Friday, there was a little kid’s chair in this antique market in Healdsburg and it said Thomas on the back of the chair. I almost took a photo of it and texted it to him, just as a thinking of you, should I pick up this chair for you kinda funny. He was already gone, but I didn’t it know yet. I knew Thomas for a little more than a year. At first I wanted to choke him, he was persistent and slightly irritating. But on MINI Takes the States we ended up driving together for about 5 legs of the trip. If you stick two people in a MINI and make them drive 100s of thousands of miles together, they’ll either kill each other or learn to love each other. 15 minutes into the first leg as we were barreling down the Jersey Turnpike on the 4^th of July with the top down and the A/C on in 90 degree weather, singing our hearts out to Kelly Clarkson, we knew it was love. We had a lot of fun driving from Jersey to DC to Charlotte to Nashville and then back together again for the Lincoln to Denver haul down I-80.

Life is short. Do what you love. If you don't like something in your life do your best to change it. Be grateful even on days when you don’t want to be. Smile at strangers. Practice grace. Go on that trip of a lifetime now. Hug your kids even when they are being naughty. Forgive. Most importantly LIVE while you’re breathing.

Leaping

At the beginning of the year I chose two words "Leap" and "Stretch" as my words for the year. Leap because I knew I wanted to do something big by the end of the year that would take the most courage I have yet to personally express and stretch well because creating a yoga habit is forever on my annual list of New Year's intentions. While my down-ward dog needs improvement most of you now know that I have definitely leapt.

In January I started mulling over what it would take for me to leave my life as I know it and move to Uganda. I had a few ideas: I could work for an established NGO, I could create a tour and travel company, I could go back to being a TD or I could create my own non-profit. I then had to decide what life changes I was going to need to make in order to be comfortable with quitting my job and moving to Uganda. I moved out of my apartment and into a house with roommates cutting my rent in half and I put myself on a serious spending diet. I have sold a lot of what I own and I plan on selling the rest in the coming months. The moving sale I had in February I made $1100 in 2 days, I can tell you I don't remember what I sold and I clearly don't miss any of it.  People say "ahh you're not going to put anything in storage? but what about all your stuff?" People it's just stuff, ask anyone who's ever had their house blown away, burnt to the ground or flooded....you can always get more stuff.

I then started plotting out The Bernie Project, which at first was just the project's code name, but after trying out a few other names, The Bernie Project stuck. I love it, some of my friends love it, some of my friends don't love it. I'll tell you why I love it, it's a constant reminder for me why I'm doing what I'm doing. When I hear Bernie, I automatically think of Mahadi, which then makes me think of the other kids at the school and how I know they deserve better and how we will make it better.

I don't know how long I'll live in Uganda. I don't know if it will be for 6 months, the rest of my life or somewhere in between. Jack and Josephine both think I'm soft. I'd be willing to say they have a side bet between the two of them to see how long I stay. I'm not sure they realize how stubborn I am. I fully suspect some full on come aparts, when I'm hot, frustrated and things aren't moving as fast as I'd like or someone won't negotiate with me in the market or I'm lost or hungry or thirsty or craving Starbucks or all of the above.

For now this move is to be closer to Mahadi on a more consistent basis. I have no expectations of what will happen with this move. I don't know if he will live with me. I'm not seeking to adopt him. I just know I need to be there.

The Bernie Project will be my primary professional focus beginning in 2014. I will still keep a big toe in the event and meeting planning industry which will give me the opportunity to come back to the States a couple of times a year and execute a couple of fundraising events as well.

I'm really excited about what The Bernie Project has in store for not only the school, but for everyone who comes in contact with the project. The ways to engage with The Bernie Projet are endless and I can't wait to see them all come to fruition.

For all of you who have given your support, thanks! It's going to be one hell of a ride and I look forward to sharing it all with you the good and the bad.

xoxo,

april

Bali

One of the last mornings I was staying at the Grand Hyatt Bali, I woke up early and headed down to the beach to watch the sun rise. I sat down and noticed a guy standing in the low tide with his camera and tripod. I was very curious about the shots he had captured. But the other thing that was pulling more was the intuitive knowledge that he and I were going to have some sort of exchange. It felt as if he kept looking back at me on the beach. I carried on with meditating and appreciating the sunrise. As he started to gather his equipment and head back towards the beach he veered away from me and I thought no no you're supposed to come and say hello and he redirected his position and headed straight towards me.

Our exchange was simple and fleeting I said "did you get some great shots?" We carried on for a brief moment. He was from Singapore. I mentioned I lived in Berkeley. He said San Francisco is gorgeous. I've been before when I go to Illinois to visit family. Funny I said I'm from Illinois. We introduced ourselves and wished each other safe travels and that was it.

I'm a believer in serendipity, sliding doors, fate, whatever you'd like to call it. But what I've learned when you open your heart to the world and the people on this planet, amazing life changing things can happen.

Now my interaction with Veraj was not life changing but it was proof of following your instinctive gut reaction and how by listening to your inner voice you can guide your life down the path you are supposed to take.

Don't get me wrong there have been many times where I've neglected that inner voice and found myself on the wrong path only to re-correct my direction. I take these detours as part of life and don't feel like anything happens in vain. As I've gotten older my intuitive self has gotten much stronger and being on an island like Bali only increases that energy.

Bali is a sacred spiritual land and once you get out of the hustle and bustle of Denpasar, Kuta and Nusa Dua, you can feel the energy all over the island. If you go to Bali it's imperative you get out of the touristy beachy areas to truly experience the beauty, love and spirituality of the land and people.

People come and go in our lives sometimes fleeting like Veraj and others like one of my dear friends Melissa, who I've had the pleasure of knowing since we were 10. Our friendship over the years has taken many forms, but it wasn't until we were in our late 20s that our friendship solidified into a life long friendship. It was great spending time with Melissa on Bali, we initially were supposed to leave on Thursday, but Melissa didn't want to go back to Thailand and I didn't want to go back to the states, so we both changed our flights. I really should know better now, Bali is the only country I've been to where I've extended my trip BOTH times.

It would have been such a shame if we hadn't gone with our impulse to change our flights, the experiences and people we met in those extra days have created lifetime memories.

We decided to leave Ubud and go up to Munduk, the mountainous area of the island with rice paddies, water falls and views that go on for days. We were told to go to the Banyan tree, the oldest and largest on the island. We hired motobike drivers to take us to the tree. Initially, I wasn't that impressed, but then I remembered reading somewhere to walk amongst the roots. In we went walking through the maze of the roots, touching the limbs feeling the energy radiating off the tree. Our motobike driver told us we could climb it. As a child my cousins and I would climb the trees in my grandparent's backyard and it came back naturally, though now as an adult I'm scared of heights you can fall off of, I climbed about 12 feet into the tree. I had pumas on with zero traction and I knew I needed to be careful. The rise of panic started to boil but I tamped it back down and wasn't scared, yet I knew I was going to fall. I started to make my way down and I grabbed this thick yet short nubby limb that I had used earlier to climb up. As soon as I heard the snap, I knew what it meant and down I went. I could have hit one of the many limbs, I could have landed in various positions. Aside from a scrape and a bruised bottom (which doesn't hurt) I was fine, convinced angels were watching over me.

Saturday, Melissa left for Bangkok and I headed back to Ubud. I went to see another healer and that whole experience will be told at another time, but while I was waiting to see him I was growing impatient. I had a plan for how the day was going to go I was going to be checking into my hotel by 1 (at least that was the plan in my mind) but this guy was not going along with my plans. I still had to go to the Ubud market and could tell that my arrival time to my hoteI was going to be pushed back. I took a few deep breathes, reminded myself to not be so American and just be. The day unfolded just as it was supposed to and everything that happened the last night in Bali happened exactly as it was meant to happen. And for that I am thankful.

1 + 3 = 4

Many people often ask if I'm pursuing adopting Mahadi and bringing him to the US the short answer is no and there are a few very complicated reasons that I've discussed before in other blog entries. However, one reason that's not so complicated that I think we can all understand is the importance of family.

Mahadi lives at school with his grandma, whom he is very close too and 3 of his older brothers, Michael- 8, Junior- 10 and Haruna- 13. While spending two nights at the school I had the opportunity to spend more time with all three boys. And within that 48 hours I fell in love with them as well.

Michael is a sweet, quiet boy, with eyelashes women would kill for. He's at that age where he wants to be dotted on but he's almost "too big". One afternoon I was reading books to the kids and my lap was surprisingly empty and I said to Michael "do you want to sit on my lap?" His eyes said yes, but his head shook no, knowing that he was passed the age of sitting on laps. Instead he cozied up to my side and we read Mother Goose stories. I called Michael my body guard, I always had my bag on my shoulder and he would insist on carrying it for me, always close to my side and protectively carrying my bag. He rarely strayed far away from me during the 48 hours I was at the school. Michael is often barefoot, with a perpetual runny nose...one day while I was in town I bought 10 hankies and passed them out to the kids who I deemed to have the worst of the runny noses...somehow Michael ended up with two which he then promptly turned into bandit scarves and superman capes, but also used when needed. Michael loved using my camera and found great joy in taking photos some of my best shots, he took.

Junior is smart and when I asked him what his favorite subject was his answer was science, this did not come as a surprise to me. Junior read well and while quiet has a bigger personality than sweet Michael. Junior was often found runny around in a shirt with more holes then thread and typically had worn shorts on as well and was often barefoot. Both nights I stayed with Emmy she made me dinner and Mahadi of course joined me. The first night before I could figure out what was happening she had shooed Michael out the door. So the second night I made sure that Junior and Michael were in Emmy's house and could eat dinner with us. As I was doling out the potatoes, rice, chicken and cabbage, I decided to give Michael and Junior the two pieces of chicken as Mahadi had been eating chicken all week and I knew he'd be eating it again. But of course trying to explain that to a 5 year old wasn't working out for me, so Mahadi got pissed. As I was trying to whisper in Mahadi's ear my reasoning Junior says in Lugandan to Mahadi which was then translated to me in English "I wish I had a mommy like yours". My heart broke.

Haruna is 13 and is quiet and for the past 3 years I always thought he was mischievous , but really he's quite shy and he is a promising soccer player. I didn't spend a lot of time with Haruna, mostly because he's bigger and seemed to always be off playing or doing something. One night I heard singing coming from the church and I went in to see what was happening and I learned that Haruna is in the choir. He caught me watching him and he broke out into the biggest, happiest smile, proud that I was watching him. Josephine's husband, Jonathan, works for an organization called Field of Dreams which was founded by a man who frequently attends Sweet Sleep mission trips. Field of Dreams has created soccer programs at all four school's Sweet Sleep has given beds too. I made sure to show Jonathan a photo of Haruna and then leave money behind to ensure that Haruna receives a pair of soccer shoes, shorts and shirts, so he can continue to play soccer.

Junior and Michael were full of questions-
When was I leaving the school?
Was Mahadi coming with me?
When was I bringing Mahadi back?
When was I going back to America? Was I taking Mahadi with me?

I would explain what was happening multiple times throughout those 48 hours. I told both Michael and Junior, next time I come back to Uganda, you guys are going to come with me, but I can't do it this time. That's a promise I intend to keep....but I'll need a bigger place and a few more dollars in my pocket and potentially a few friends in tow...however those three boys have really good manners and I have no fear that they would misbehave.

The Friday when Mahadi and I left school, Mahadi's biological mom had shown up to pick up the boys and take them back to the village while school is closed. Haruna said to me, I'd rather stay here with Jja-jja. Mahadi's mom had asked if we could give she and the four boys (Michael, Junior, Haruna and one of her 6 month old twins a lift into town). Once we got to the taxi stand they were getting out at I hugged each boy and I said, I love you. Keep studying. Continue to have good manners and I'll see you soon. I no longer had one boy, but four.

Saying Goodbye

Good Morning from Uganda...technically it should be Good Evening From San Francisco but somebody missed their flight. The past two weeks were nothing short of amazing, loving, exhausting and fun.

I'm going to start with yesterday and work my way back as I blog. First apologies for not blogging as I went along. Mahadi is a very active little boy so from 6:30am-10:00pm I was always on the go with him. By the time I could blog I was ready to go to bed myself. Now as I have some time to myself at Josephine's I can start putting words into paragraphs to highlight the fun times, the not so fun times and where my head is at today.

On Friday, we were getting ready to leave Mahadi's school, I told his bio mom- we will drop him at your house on Wednesday. So all week long I was preparing Mahadi for Wednesday, on Wednesday you are going to your mom's and I'm flying to America. On Tuesday morning, I wanted to get on British Airway's website to check my flight, pick my seats etc. But I got interrupted by Mahadi and figured I could get on line that night after he went to bed. That didn't happen either. Yesterday morning, bags are packed, we have had breakfast and I get onto BA's website and it says I can't check in...and that's when it clicks....my flight was actually Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. I start FREAKING out...and Jack is trying to calm me down and I'm trying to find my US phone and American Airlines can't help me, so I get the BA number in Kampala and the lady says she will have to call me back and Mahadi is in the background saying "mommy mommy mommy I want the phone". He clearly doesn't understand panic. I'm on the verge of tears because A- I had mentally prepared to leave that day. B- I was terribly afraid this new ticket was going to cost me thousands of dollars. C- I really needed to be in the office this week.
As I'm crying and trying to figure out what step to take first Mahadi's like you're crying mommy. Jack tried to explain to him me crying at this time had nothing to do with him.

An hour goes by and I call BA back...she says I have to buy a whole new ticket....thankfully she was telling me it was $640 and not $1,500. I decided to get on American's website to see if i could use miles. I was able to book a new flight for tonight (Thursday) using 37,000 miles and paying $325.00...not money I wanted to spend but thankfully now nearly as much as I thought it was going to be. I also am thankful I'm able to get out relatively quickly as BA only flies out of Entebbe 3 times a week.

We got that situation straightened out and we started to head to Mahadi's school, but first we stopped for lunch. I was already crying in the car and really didn't want to eat. Jack and Josephine both said they were going to leave me if I didn't stop crying...not because they are mean, but because they don't like to see me in pain.

We had decided to take Mahadi back to school instead of his mom's per his grandma's instructions on Monday. We arrived to school and were told by Madame Emmy that Jja-jja (Mahadi's grandma) had left that morning to go check on her own mother who was sick. Mahadi would be looked after by Madame Emmy until Jja-jja returned. I trust Madame Emmy fully, so there was no concern there.

Most of the children left on Friday to go back to family villages for the next 2 months because it's the school holidays. Because of lack of money for food at Mahadi's school, the school has really started campaigning for kids to go "home" for the holiday break. There were still about 50 kids there, 50 kids with nowhere to go. some of the 50 kids are now in high school or older because they started at AGL when they were young didn't have anywhere to go and still don't have anywhere to go. It was 3pm when we go there and because Jja-jja was gone no meals had been cooked that day. Madame Emmy explained that most kids can cook for themselves and I said what about Mahadi she said I will cook for him. But it was disturbing that the kids who were still there had not been cooked for and it was nearly 4pm.

It's a complicated situation. Mahadi's official school name is Wakiso School Children of Hope, but you'll hear me refer to it as AGL, short for African Greater Life a non-profit a pastor started years ago to create a place for widows and orphaned children to go to. There are a lot of people who care about this school, but there is serious need for formal organization of who is donating money and what priorities are met first.

We stayed awhile and then decided to distribute the toothpaste, toothbrushes, vaseline, soap, panties and shoes to the kids who were at the school. We lined them up and passed out the toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, and vaseline to all of the kids, even the big ones who are back from break. We then lined up the kid s who were under 13 and were able to provide shoes for every child under 13 who did not have a pair of shoes. The remaining shoes will be giving out once the kids return from holiday break, along with the remaining toothpaste, soap and toothbrushes. We then passed out the underwear to the girls and had picked up some pairs for younger boys. So thankful to Michael Mahoney and Brad Rolfe who felt compelled to do something based on my Facebook statuses. They were able to send me over $500. Some of that money was used for the final meal for 300 kids before all kids left for the holidays and the rest was used to buy the above hygiene products and shoes. I know many of you felt compelled to send me money or to donate in some way. I didn't solicit donations this time because for one it is a challenge to physically get the money once I'm already on the ground and for two I wanted to make sure I could handle a small assignment before all of a sudden I have thousands of dollars and no safe way to ensure items get distributed. Stay tuned for ways I want to start helping AGL became a good and functioning school.

After the distribution Mahadi was sitting on my lap and I was saying Mahadi, Mommy, Auntie Josephine and Uncle Jack are getting ready to leave. I was getting all teary-eyed telling him I loved him and to use his manners and be a good boy. It began to sink in with him that this time he wasn't going. Even though we had been preparing him all week long I don't think it had finally sunk in until that moment. He started balling. All the kids were around him telling him Mahadi we are here. We will play with you...it was awful. I went to the car and continued to cry as Josephine and Jack tried to calm him down. Then Josephine came to me and Jack was left with him and he stopped crying. Madame Emmy took him around back of one of the houses and told him she was going to buy him a sambusa, while Jack ran to the car and we drove off.
It was awful. Absolutely awful.

After about an hour I called Emmy and she said he was playing and was doing fine. I called Emmy this morning and she said he was fine. Then I got a chance to talk to him. He sounded good...we told each other we loved and missed the other one and I said I'll be back in 2013, ok? Ok. bye bye.

As much as I knew when the time would come to take Mahadi back school I'd be a wreck, I'm never prepared for how much I cry and I wonder if I'm doing the right thing...just showing up for a couple of weeks and then leaving him behind. Or is it better to not come at all? not for me but for him.

I'll write more about where my thoughts are on being in Mahadi's life in more permanent basis soon.

for now I'm signing off.

Wonder World and other highlights

---Taking Mahadi to Wonder World, which Judy and I dubbed What the What World? A Ugandan amusement park with seriously outdated carnival rides and attendants who start the rides and then walk away....or rides who are unattended and a pack of hooligan children overtakes the ride...we thought for sure someone was losing an arm.

Saying to Mahadi "Who's the Boss?' He then says "you" (points to me).

Continuously asking Mahadi if he loves Judy....always no....but wait unless Judy has stickers, rice or fruit ninjas (iphone game).

Playing "Can you show me a black car? or Can you show me a white care. can you show me a policeman?" etc in the car.

Saying I love you to Mahadi and he now just flashes the number two...but then sometimes we get into I LOVe You TEN. etc.

Judy and I have arts and crafts day at Mahadi's school and almost dy in a mob of children who want pens or pencils...note to self show up at school with pre sharpened pencils and enough for each kid.

Negotiating with the pineapple man for 30 pineapple so the kids could have pineapple on Monday.

Watching Mahadi pick up my big camera and shoot away...he's a got a future as paparazzi.

Mahadi being silly as he drinks a fanta and says "ahhhhhh" after each sip.

Mahadi and his mood swings...from sweet happy little boy to an obstinate donkey.

Mahadi playing with his cars in the morning as I lay in bed wishing it was not 6:30am but so overcome with happiness I don't care I'm exhausted.

Trying to learn how to become an "African" parent and not an "American" parent...you know not panicking when your child is out of your eyesight..

Having dinner with Mahadi's grandma and teacher tonight in her two bedroom home under a lantern.

Watching Mahadi strip down to his swim shorts so quick I hardly knew was what was happening when he saw the pool...tonight his teacher says he had never been swimming...

writing this blog under mosquito net as mahadi snores like a wart hog and listening to other kids at the school sing praise songs....

and finally teasing Mahadi that his stomach is as big as a jackfruit and then thumping on it like a watermelon....

Anything but an Emotional Reunion

Judy and I arrived on Thursday night to Entebbe, quite uneventfully and on the other side of customs there Jack waited, excited to see me as I was to see him. We loaded up the vehicle and headed to our hotel. I had told Josephine it wasn't necessary to come meet us at the airport and it wasn't until the next day when I saw her, I may have hurt her feelings. I of course was looking out for her best interest we were landing late I really didn't want her to have to be up so late but in hindsight I should have had her come to the airport.
Friday morning we woke up and headed to the Market to meet Josephine. It was a super hot day I was getting sick and my non smoker "smoker's" cough was not getting any better. I was really not in the mood to shop at the market. We then got in the car to head to AGL, Mahadi's school. As we drove there it was strange I didn't really have any emotion, I wasn't nervous or excited, it was just more of a "matter of fact" feeling, maybe it's my stoicism or maybe it's because I didn't feel good.
We got to AGL and we were greeted by lots of children, but no Mahadi. Emmy, one of Mahadi's teachers came to greet us and said he was was asleep in her house. She said he had been so excited but that morning he woke up and was not feeling well. We walked into her room and there he was passed out cold, with fever and what I undoubtedly assumed was malaria. We woke him up and we sat in Emmy's front room with him on my lap. He was very melancholy and you could tell he did not feel well. Josephine suggested I come back and pick him up tomorrow when he felt better, but I was afraid if it was malaria that it wouldn't be treated, so we agreed I would take him that night.
Mahad's Jja-ja packed some things up for him and we left AGL. In the car he was in and out of happy and melancholy, many of you have seen the photo of him smiling in the car it was only one of a few that day. We went and had lunch, he ate well. And then we went to the clinic to get him tested for Malaria.
As we walked into the clinic Mahadi put it all together and made a beeline for the door, Jack and I grabbed him and Mahadi grabbed the railing and began to scream bloody murder, which I'm fairly certain if you had been listening closely all of you in America could have heard him screaming. Mind you I've just filled out the paper work trying to explain who I am. I have him in a bear hug saying soothing things in English and Jack in Lugandan is saying "they are just going to give you some tablets, they won't stick you". Full on lying but we were pulling out all the stops to get him to calm down. We finally calm him and get him into see the doctor. His fever is 100 degrees and the dr says we have to do a blood test. I asked Jack if it's just a prick because there is no way they are drawing blood out of this kid. We take him into the room to be stuck and he's sitting on my lap and the tech is preparing and he comes in for the prick but he's not quick enough. Jack, the tech and I all had to wrestle him in order to get the blood prick finished. Again bloody murder screaming, it was intense.
Blood test comes back positive he has malaria and an upper respiratory infection. We leave the clinic with three types of meds...the total cost visit, scrips, etc for less than $15.00. As the nurse was going over the prescriptions with me she said "he needs to take this one with milk or some kind of fat". I said "we are going to go have ice cream, will that work?" She gives me the best "you're a dumbass" look and says matter of factly "well ice cream has milk in it doesn't it?" Me sheepishly "um yes, just checking" So off to Nakumatt (Target) for ice cream which then turned into ice cream, fanta and popcorn at 8pm at night.
When we got to the hotel he was quite happy, I gave him a few toys to play with explaining to him that all the toys he was playing with weren't all for him and that at some point he would have to share them. He went to bed and I spent a good part of the night checking on him and his fever. It finally broke sometime in the middle of the night.
Saturday his disposition was so much brighter and you could tell the medicine was already making an improvement to how he was feeling. I on the other hand still felt like crap and had not gotten a good night's sleep. As happy as I was to be back in Kampala, I was drained from 2 weeks of travel prior, a cold and little sleep in the past 72 hours...the pollution and dust in Kampala was not making things better.
That's it for now...It's 2am and I'm hoping I can go to bed but the night club by our house is bumping so ol' R&B cuts which while I do appreciate them I'd appreciate them more if it wasn't keeping me awake.
Good night for now.
ag

A little over a year later.

One month from today I’ll be back in Uganda a trip that I had planned on taking this past March but due to a new job and a move that same month a trip to UG did not happen. I haven’t blogged since I left Uganda when I was wrought with emotion. Many of you probably don’t know this but I’m not inherently a crier…my siblings could probably tell you how many times they have seen me cry, friends who have known me most of my life the same. The night I left Uganda it was ugly as I was hugging my dear friends Josephine and Jack goodbye it took all I had to walk into the airport, check my bags and clear customs. I remember the words of the Customs lady “oh a lot of people cry when they leave Uganda, but you can come back anytime”.  “okkkkkkkkkkkk.” I said, through big ugly crocodile tears.

When I came back to the US I was bound and determined to find a way to make adopting Mahadi a reality. I had come off the road, I was looking for a “real” job and a place to call my own, you know so when the US social worker started to do their evaluation of my life they’d see that I wasn’t a swinging bachelorette traveling 200 days/year and but instead a responsible 9-5er with the ability to provide stability for a little boy. I also contacted numerous adoption agencies in the US none who were willing to take a case of a single woman wanting to adopt a boy in Uganda. Uganda only allows single women to adopt girls, not that it hasn’t happened where a single woman has adopted a boy but the cases are few and exceptional. US Adoption agencies want a slam dunk not a challenge, which I understand. But I would get so pissed when they’d say oh but you can adopt a girl, I’d reply back I’m sorry but I don’t believe you read my email, this little boy right here in this photo, he’s mine.

As I learned more about international adoption I also learned that US immigration would not classify Mahadi as an orphan because both of his parents are still alive. Attempting to adopt Mahadi would require asking them to relinquish their parental rights, a request I’m not prepared to ask. A large part of this next trip is to spend time with Mahadi’s mother. I want to learn about her and her life. Many, most, all of us westerners don’t understand the sheer poverty in third world countries until we’ve seen it with our own eyes and even then I’m not sure we can fully grasp the choices that have to be made on a daily basis for many in other nations.

I also emailed with a woman who is “in” the orphan industry so to speak and one of the last points she said to me “It is not wise to separate a child from his siblings.  While this may seem ok now, the implications of that are far reaching over time for all parties involved.  I have seen many cases where the youngest child is adopted away from siblings, and it is very damaging to the children left behind and eventually to the adopted child.  And, the issues continue throughout the child's life.  I don't think that is something you would wish to be a part of.”

Of all the points she made, that one had the biggest impact. Is it right for me to take a child out of his environment to give him what I deem a healthier, happier life? What emotional damage could he sustain?

When Josephine came to visit last fall I asked her to start the process to get Mahadi’s birth certificate. Many people in Africa do not have birth certificates because they aren’t born in hospitals. I wanted to make sure we had copies of Mahadi’s birth certificate if only so when he turns 18 it is easier for him to leave the country, whether to go to college or to come to visit. Imagine my delight when I saw the picture of Mahadi holding his birth certificate and his birthday unknown to me until then, March 28, 2008…just 31 years and 6 days after my first birthday. Both Aries.

In August the Monday of Bonnie’s wedding week, I received an email from Josephine and it hit me like a brick…someone a girl from Australia wanted to adopt Mahadi. As I read the email in my office, it felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach, the room was spinning and I was trying to not throw up all over myself. The pragmatic in me brought the room back from a tailspin and said “what if she’s married? What if she could provide him a better life than I could?” That lasted for 4.2 seconds and then I started looking for jobs in Uganda. If Bonnie’s wedding had not been that week, I’m fairly certain I would have been on a plane to Uganda that week. But once I learned more specifically that she was single, I didn’t feel I needed to flee for Uganda that day. Also knowing that nothing moves fast in Uganda ...my dear friend Jen reassured me what I already knew, Mahadi would not be leaving for Australia on the next Qantas flight. I promised that this news would not ruin my sister’s wedding week. I only told a few people this story…I also didn’t want to cause a witch hunt amongst all of my loyal FB friends who I’m fairly certain would protect Mahadi to the death as much as I would.  I affectionately call the other woman the Mahadi-napper to my friends…she and I are now FB friends..so she will read this and now know her nickname. SO BE NICE..PEOPLE.  My biggest concern when I found out the Mahadi-napper was interested in Mahadi was I didn’t want him to become a commodity to his family. Based on some conversations I have had with my Ugandan friends I think we have avoided that and I hope we continue, because the last thing I want a poverty stricken family to see is dollar signs when looking at their children. 

There are many days I consider moving to Uganda. But I love my new city and I really enjoy my job and the life that I’m creating here in the Bay Area. I’m not sure what my life would look like for both me and Mahadi in Uganda. If I moved to Uganda and made a commitment to be Mahadi’s everyday Mama…what would happen if I had to come back to the US for any length of time? Leave him there? What if I didn’t come back to Uganda, then what?  I wouldn’t be able to take him out of the country. The very last thing I want to do is cause any more emotional damage to this little boy.

The answers to our story are not simple and only time will tell how our lives will develop, but I do know the universe had something in store the day I laid my eyes on the photo of those two little “girls” in 2009.

The next 30 days are jam packed to say the least but I’m counting the minutes until I cross the Uganda customs line and see Josephine and Jack on the other side…two of the three best smiles in Uganda.

I also can’t wait to share the first 6 days with my friend Judy Wheeler. Wheeler is in for an adventure and I can’t wait to see how her eyes are opened to an experience of a lifetime…but not a “once in lifetime” experience. More on Wheeler in my next blog…I can guarantee you there will be some Thelma and Louise with a dash of Lucy and Ethyl kinda moments with the two of us in the UG.

Cheers!

April