So today, we worked and helped Kathy around the home. We washed dishes and the floor. They do not have running water in the home so they buy their water from other places. In the morning the children go with a silver coin with 20 liter jugs balancing their handles on sticks so that they can manage the weight.

We put out basins filled with water for soapy water, first rinse water and second rinse water. The toilets don’t flush so that’s been a little bit of a problem because we don’t use them in the right way. Most importantly, Ssekoko lives in the bathroom. Ssekoko is the Lugandan word for turkey. There is no light in the bathroom and I went to go pee and almost sat on the thing. The children thought that was absolutely hilarious and came in and carried out the little gobbler.

Heather went to pour tea out for the children she spilled the boiling water down her leg. One of the elders, named ja-ja (Lugandan for grandma), rubbed corn oil on her leg to make it better. For almost every meal the children form a line and kneel when they are given food. I’m not used to seeing such huge expressions of gratitude for food.

After this I introduced the children to the younger ones to a small amount of color theory with crayons and colored pencils. The older ones were given pencils and watercolor paints. I drew portraits of the children while the others watched, demonstrating how to draw faces and how to use watercolors properly.

When I was through with it she treated it as if it was the most precious thing. She held it delicately and then a cue started for me to draw five more children.

We did art for the most of the day, almost seven hours. The main focus was small landscapes, still life, still life with “imaginative elements” and flower drawings.

Today we slept in till around 11 and when we finally opened the door my half-masted eyes fall upon the sight of Mother Katherine dancing, what is affectionately called “kitkit” (an abnormally small kitten) across the floor by its very tiny paws. I honestly could not have asked for a better good-morning greeting.

They had prepared boiled eggs, bananas, tea, bread and water for breakfast. After breakfast they want to show us Kampala, so we walk down the orange dirt road that the orphanage is on to the main road to find a taxi. We cram into the 14-person taxi van as I carefully shield my precious camera bag. Bustling isn’t the right word for this city; cars, people, businesses are on top of each other. The city was incredibly congested but we still attracted a lot of attention. Mumblings of the word myzungu,(sp?) which translates to “white one” followed us everywhere.

I kept stepping out in front of cars and people because they drive on the opposite side of the road so. I was very eager to leave the city. Lydia made conversation with us about our type of hair being different and on the way back and asked us if she could sell her clothes through us back home. She described to me that artists do not make any money but that fashion designers do, so that was why she got a degree. She said “there is no use for the art, no Ugandan wants it, if they buy the art, it is from America, not Uganda” We get back and I play a little soccer with the kids and then snap a few photos of them. They raise their arms in the air and push each other out of the way to be in the front while giggling.

We go for a walk with Ben and Josephine who ask us who our favorite musical artists are. When we ask them, they say, “Linkin Park” and “Rhianna,” Josephine began to sing that umbrella song and knows almost every word, we dance while she sings “e-lla, e-lla, e-lla, a, a, a.” We ask Ben what song he likes and he replies that the song “Numb is perfect.”

Josephine later shares with Heather that her parents died when she was two and after she was raped at 13, she decided against an abortion because she was lonely. She named her daughter, “witnay” which is significant because she says her daughter is her witness.
I drew portraits of Abdu and Bernard. All of the children gathered around me while I drew and chattered in Luganda. Art is not emphasized in school, so it is very rare to see. One of the girls named Norah, tells me that she wishes to draw badly.

Despite the language barrier we are communicating. I love seeing when their faces tell me they think we’re funny (especially when we try to speak Lugandan).

To end this post, I’ll leave you with this tidbit. Kitkit left two presents behind Heather’s bed. And according to Heather it has “the stench of a thousand garbage trucks.” That is all.

When we get off the plane, my heart is in my throat. As we wait in the visa line there are these four boys with American passports chanting things about Marcus Garvey, while they play with their fancy phones. I walk up to the officer who requests the fifty dollars required for the Ugandan visa. In total, we were on planes for 23 hours, exhaustion is beat out completely by excitement.

We lug the heavy bags past the customs officer, who just sleepily waves us past. As the automatic door to the waiting area opens I see our names on bright pink posterboard. “RACHALE ROSSION” and “HAETHERE KETT-LE” are sprawled across it in marker, they are being held up by Mother Katherine, the director of the orphanage. We gave huge and took hugs and we received words such as: “yes, please,” and “so happy to receive you.” They took our heavy luggage and walked toward the car into the cool, clear Ugandan night. We turned around to the sound of the quick footsteps of many. They clambered toward us, with their little arms out, bowing and hugging us, each one of them. They wrapped their arms around us, even despite our enormous backpacks. We drove back, weaving through traffic and listening to some music that was all R&B from America. The children speak Lugandan to each other and are too shy to speak English around us. They give us dinner, and we exchange no words while everyone watches us eat, which was, well awkard.

When we are done, the children suddenly stand up and begin to sing and dance for us. It was incredible, they sang words related to us being there. Things like “we are very happy to receive you.” After that, we show them the art supplies and soccer balls and clothing that we’ve brought and pass it all out, even though it is way past their bed times and they have school the next day. Mother Katherine says they are too excited to go to sleep. Every single one of them, kneel and bow and say “thank-you” to us, repeatedly.

Before I came here, I read on Wikipedia that Ugandan people are known for their hospitality and now I see how true it is. They show us to our room and it is the biggest one in the house with sheets made up for us on the beds, and mosquito nets hung in place. I have never felt so loved by people I didn’t know. We tucked our nets in and went to sleep to the sound of the kids playing soccer late into the night.

We left today at 2:11pm, we flew from Miami to Newark to Brussels to then,
finally, Entebbe. We are scheduled to arrive around 10:00pm. My dad and sister drive us down to Miami, we checked in for international and began the luggage weighing process. For continental economy you are permitted two bags per person, under 50lbs. You can be over up to 70lbs but it is a $50 charge, so, I planned on paying the 50 bucks. So between the two of us our bags are at 72, 54, 47, 51. The woman at the counter is having a terrible day and is pretty impatient, so, with determination and moving weight around, I get it to precisely 70, 51, 49, and 51 and she lets us check them all with no problem. My sister, Chelsea takes pictures of us in front of where we enter for security. I cannot wait to meet these children.

We’re leaving Wednesday, I’ll be writing a lot once we get there!