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

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

The Wrap Up of my time spent with Mahadi

My time with Mahadi on Friday wrapped up all too fast:

I let Mahadi pick his shirt to wear in the morning. We got dressed and proceeded to walk out the door of my guesthouse room and the key was jammed. I have a major phobia of being locked in a room and started to panic, as the key would not turn nor come out of the lock. I was attempting to stay calm as I grabbed my phone to look up the number of the guest house, I didn't want to resort to banging on the door like a maniac, but that was about to come next as I looked at the windows and realized they were covered with iron bars, the terror of the building being on fire (even though it wasn't), was getting close to pushing me over the edge, luckily it didn't phase Mahadi one bit. The guest house staff came right up and opened up the adjoining room to my room and let us out as they figured out why my key was stuck.

After breakfast we spent some time reading, counting, singing Head n Shoulders, Knees n Toes, and barking like a big dog. There are many guard dogs in this neighborhood and boy do they bark. Mahadi's impression is priceless. Jack arrived to pick us up and Mahadi ran right into Jack's arms and gave him the biggest hug.

We started to make our way back to the orphanage, but not before we stopped to pick up deworming medicine from the pharmacy. Jack and I both think Mahadi could have worms again, as he nearly eats everything insight and he sort of has the tell tale belly but not as bad as he used to have.

As we drove closer to the orphanage Mahadi's demeanor changed, he got quiet again and was taking everything in, like he knew he was going back. Jack asked him "Mahadi- do you love Ja-Ja?" and Mahadi shook his head no. Jack then asked "Mahadi- do you love Mama April?" and he shook his head yes. That is when flood works started with me. Do I really think he doesn't love his Ja-Ja, no I don't. But I'm well aware that the attention I was able to give him was much different than the attention his Ja-Ja is able to give him.

We stopped and fed him lunch, this time the restaurant only had matooke, rice and groundnuts (basically liquid peanut sauce). Many times restaurants in Africa only have what is available to them based on what they can afford to buy, so they may not have chicken and beef everyday.

At the gate of A Greater Life we were met by many children, Emmy (one of the teachers) and Ja-Ja. They were all very excited to see him, I immediately started crying. We pulled out his mattress, new clothes and 6 soccer balls I had picked up on the way to the orphanage. We went to make his new bed, actually Emmy made his new bed. A lot of times Africans think Muzungus can't do certain things, like make beds or wash clothes by hand. When I told them I had washed Mahadi's uniform the night before, they were in complete shock that I knew how to wash, it's kind of amusing.

Jack had thought it would be a good idea to make sure Mahadi was playing and didn't see us leave, but it didn't happen that way. He was my side all the way, even climbing back into the car. Luckily, he was a happy little boy as we left, I'm not sure if he could fully comprehend that I would be gone for awhile.

Ja-ja continued to thank me profusely and at one point telling Jack that the money I spent God would bless me and He would in some way replace the money I had spent on Mahadi. As Ja-Ja was saying her final goodbyes to me, here eyes filled with tears, it was a moment I will not forget in the near future.

I climbed in the car, all the kids waving goodbye and we drove away.

I know what you will say next: Why don't you adopt him? You need to be his mother! Bring him back to the States!

I'm going to tackle this INCREDIBLY difficult issue in my next blog.

Again thanks for reading!

24 Hours with Mahadi

Hours with Mahadi:

Josephine hopped in front with Jack and I jumped in back with Mahadi and the adventure began. Mahadi's eyes were so BIG as he took in everything around him the cows, the trucks, everything. Mahadi had skipped lunch at school because he was too busy with me and Jack, so we stopped at a local restaurant to get something to eat. Meals on a daily basis for Mahadi consist of porridge in the morning, posho (corn meal made into a very thick and tasteless lump) and if the school can afford it beans and rice. At the restaurant we ordered for Mahadi: rice, Matooke (which is mashed green bananas), chicken, greens and an Orange Fanta to top it off. Jack had bets that Mahadi would not be able to eat all the food on his plate, Jack lost that bet. Mahadi ate everything with the exception of the Matooke (he must be my boy after all...I don't like bananas either).

After lunch, Josephine and I went across the street to buy a few pieces of second hand clothes for Mahadi. If you ever wonder where all of our donated clothes go in the US, if they don't sell in Goodwills, etc, eventually they get bagged up and put on containers and shipped over to Africa. People will then buy the bags of clothing, not knowing what's inside for a little over $200 a bag and then resell the items in the market. The woman we bought a few items from was a very smart and shrewd business woman. I bought Mahadi, 4 shirts and a pair of jeans for $6.00 We then bought him 2 pairs of second hand sandals, one pair being Tevas, I mistakenly said aloud to Josephine "ooh Tevas these are like 50 dollar sandals in the US", I bought them for less than $3.

Part of Josephine's concern about Mahadi staying with me for the night was a lot of kids in orphanages wet the bed. I wasn't too keen on sleeping with a bed wetter, not to mention I'm staying in a guest house, so I really didn't want to have to deal with a wet bed. I had wanted to buy Mahadi a bed anyway, since he slept with his Ja-Ja at the orphanage. So for less than $35.00 I was able to buy him a mattress, sheets and a blanket.

On the way back to the hotel, Mahadi fell asleep in my lap, exhausted I'm sure from all the excitement and full belly of food. Jack and Josephine dropped us off back at the guest house and mentioned I should walk down to the Italian Gelateria for dinner and ice cream. I thought sure I can handle walking with a 5 year old about a 1/2 mile from my guest house, no sweat.

I made Mahadi's new bed, changed his clothes and we set out on our walk to dinner. Did I mention I can't see in the dark? Did I mention they don't have street lamps in Kampala? Did I mention there are no sidewalks either? We walk out of our guest house gate and we are standing in the pitch black. Right, Gulley be brave and find your flashlight. There were plenty of curious stares as we walked down the street, Mzungu (white person) and little Ugandan boy walking down the street at 8pm. Mahadi chatted all the way down to the restaurant and back, I had no idea what he was saying because it was all in Lugandan. He proceeded to eat an entire breast and leg of chicken with probably a cup of rice. When we got back to the guest house, I knocked on the guest house gate and the guard dog, popped his head through the hole where you'd put your hand to open the gate and scared the living daylights out of both Mahadi and I as he ferociously barked his head off.

We got back to our room, Mahadi colored and kept chattering away while I did a few things around the room. I decided it was time to give Mahadi a shower. Mahadi had never had a shower before and his eyes almost popped out of his head as I put him under the water. I climbed into the shower (with all my clothes on mind you) and attempted to scrub him down while he was standing as far away from the water as possible. I then pulled the shower head off it's holder and gave him a quick rinse off. As I wrapped him up in the towel, his eyes still as big as saucers, he had stopped talking I wondered if had rendered him mute by giving him a shower. Much to my relief once he was dressed and coloring again, he was a happy little boy.

At 9:30 he put all the crayons and paper in a neat little stack and gave me a tug on the hand, he was ready for bed. I made sure he went to the bathroom before he laid down, his head hit the bed and he was out. I spent a lot of the night watching him sleep, horizontally, diagonally, off his bed, with covers, without covers. I also began to wonder who was going to have a harder time saying goodbye the next day. The next morning Mahadi woke up at 6:30, I said good morning buddy and he sleepily climbed right into bed with me and fell back to sleep. I'd be lying if I didn't say my heart melted. I'm happy to report he didn't wet the bed either.

I texted Josephine and asked her if she thought I could keep Mahadi for a few more days. She didn't think it would be a good idea, saying it would be harder for both of us the more days we spent together. I knew she was right.

I'll wrap up the rest of Friday in my next blog.

Thanks for reading!

183

Five days from today I will be on a plane from San Diego to Chicago to Brussels to Africa, yes I’m going to San Diego on Saturday, 2 days before I leave for Africa….as my friend Cameron put it “think of all the miles”….he got me at “think of all the miles”. How could I not? It’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s probably in the top 10. Why not fly 5 hours in the opposite direction of Africa for less than 48 hours.

But today’s blog isn’t about my trip to San Diego, it’s about how Sweet Sleep still needs funding for 183 beds, in order for us to place 450 beds in Gulu this Christmas. In the past few days my heart has been warmed by a few stories:

-The two former Moldovan orphans who now live in the states and have raised over $1,000 in less than a week with the help of their schoolmates.
-Jen’s best friend’s kids sending enough money of their own for two beds.
-My dear friend Dionte, a dean at a high school in Chicago, has created a competition, the teacher who raises the most money by this Friday, has to wear an elf costume to school.
-My friend Lynda, who set a Facebook birthday goal to raise $200 for Sweet Sleep and so far has raised $220 with just three donations.

I’m always amazed by the creativity, the passion and the determination of people when they recognize a good cause and want to support it, in anyway they can and for that I’m very grateful.

I’ve known about “invisible children”, “night commuters” and “child soldiers” for the past few years, whether it’s articles in papers, reading the back of books, or watching a show on Oprah. However, it wasn’t until this past winter, that I got a really good look at what these children in Uganda, Sudan and the Congo have experienced. I went to a viewing of a documentary by Invisible Children (www.invisiblechildren.com) they hosted in Nashville and then participated in “The Rescue” in April. This summer I read “Long Way Gone” by Ishmael Baeh a former child soldier from Sierra Leone. Yesterday, I finished Aboke Girls, a true story based on the abduction of 139 girls from a Catholic school in Uganda in 1996. Sister Rachel followed right after the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army) rebels and negotiated the immediate release of 110 of the girls, the rebels insisted on keeping 29 of them.

As I’m reading this book, I continuously have to tell myself this story is real, these children have endured, participated and witnessed atrocities that we can not begin to imagine. Thousands of Chidlren in the past 2 decades taken from their homes at ages as young as 5 or 6, forced to march through the jungle, desert, carrying heavy artillery, water, food, etc. Beaten and broken down in order to succumb to the demands and orders of the “commanders”, commanders themselves children who have taken on this role as a way to survive. Storming villages to rob for food, guns, and abduct more children to continue to build this military faction Joseph Kony has created in his sick and twisted mind. Being forced to maim and murder their own families, strangers and/or fellow child soldiers or be killed. I will spare you the in-depth details, it makes me physically sick to my stomach.

This entry could spin out of control, because what has happened over the past 2 decades in Northern Uganda is complicated and messy. The psychological effects these children have endured are enormous and repatriating them back to their world is a huge task. But what I keep reminding myself is we aren’t going to Gulu to solve all the problems, but we are going to solve one problem for 450 of those kids this trip. We are going to give them a place to sleep, to rest their weary bodies and minds from years of trauma. Where they can start to recover, move forward, go to school, be reunited with their families after enduring so much in their short young lives.


How can you help us be a part of this solution? Tell your friends, your family, your boss about your friend April who won’t SHUT UP about her trip to Uganda and if Sweet Sleep would just reach their goal, she’d get to telling the good stories.

A complete bed: mattress, linens and treated mosquito net costs $88.00. If $88.00 is out of your price range this Christmas, what about $50, $30, or even $8.

• Malaria kills more people in Uganda than HIV/AIDS. Treated nets are $8 each.
• Mattresses for 183 children so they will be able to sleep up off of the ground for the first time in their lives. Mattresses are $50.
• Can you imagine not having a blanket to warm you during these chilly nights or sheets to sleep in? 183 more children still need to be able to be warm and snuggly. They can for just $30.

You can make a gift right now by going to www.sweetsleep.org/donate or you can send your contributions to Sweet Sleep, 308 Timmons St, Nashville, TN 37211with “AJG 1209” in the special comments box online or in the memo line of your check. All gifts are 100% tax-deductible. If you still need a great idea for a Christmas gift, you can even make this a donation in honor or memory of someone and they’ll receive a card from Sweet Sleep telling about their special gift. You can read more about this at www.sweetsleep.org/givethegift.

You can also continue to follow along on my blog at www.gulleysadventures.blogspot.com

Blessings to you all for your continued support, prayers and love.

Big Hugs and lots of kisses,

April

Sweet Sleep Bed Installation Kampala, Uganda July 2009