Life Drawing Class With Edible Erasers

June 17th, 2008

I woke up today around 6 while the kids were getting ready for school and handed one of my last disposable cameras to the children that go to Lubaga Martyrs School. Developing that role is going to be a complete surprise. Massy is one of the women that work here to support themselves. She cooks and cleans so that she can sleep here with her two children. Well, she made us some egg sandwiches and we watched some news on the small tv in the home. We made out some story about same sex marriage in California coming on between segments of static. Before arriving I expected America to have an influence but not to this extent. A few days ago I caught some interview of a nascar driver. Ugh. Well, after we spent more time adjusting the antenna, we gave up and moved on to do more productive things. I edited portraits I had taken earlier in the week for a database of the children, some of which, I am so proud of.

Cathy brought in some pictures of us from my birthday celebration at lake victoria and then we went through pictures of the children while she wrote their full names and ages. Godfrey picked us up to go into Kampala because he was delivering some of his cakes… We got money out to make the international bank account for the GreenHouse NGO official and then we went to shop for paper, erasers and ingredients for macaroni and cheese to cook for the kids. Carrying ingredients for mac and cheese to serve forty people was miserable. My elbows are still a tad sore. On the taxi ride back there was this little boy, no more than five, opening his palm to display the universal gesture to convey asking. He was putting his hand the window nearest me and there was a really deep sadness in his eyes. Lydia tells me to ignore him and tells me that these children are put out on the streets and like it there because they make the most money here. She says they are from northern Uganda where the war and displacement is rampant. We pass by a primary school and there are at least 8 children, all under age ten, some even around 3 or 4 years old. All with their palms out and wearing these pained, despondent expressions… It was just. sad. really sad. Especially seeing them all in front of this primary school that they probably couldn’t afford to go to even if they wanted to. Lydia reminds me that the orphanage is there to keep the children in our care from ending up like that but this isn’t reassuring, I still feel really helpless.

After coming home, I eat an entire mango and half of a tilapia cooked with royco from Lake Victoria. I put up more of the blog and set up for our lifedrawing. This class was probably the most unorganized. The youngest ones wanted to take part, and I didn’t want to turn them away from trying, so they all crammed in, attempting to draw our model(who is the mother/director of the orphanage).

The result was awesome and the five year olds drawings are hilarious and simultaneously great. I handed out their new erasers and they were all incredibly excited to receive them. Namizzi gets a hold of one and tests how edible it is. I decide to collect some of them back so they don’t all turn into food.

The youngest ones are outside drawing and painting. Namizzi shows me a painting. I ask her what it is and she says it’s the number 7 over and over again. Toddlers and watercolors. hah.

 Norah requests that we learn something new and challenging tomorrow so I draw diagrams for perspective. One point and two point and I hope they find interest in it. She asks if I can teach her to type later on in the evening and of course I say yes. So I end the night leaving Norah, Joweria, Isaac, Specioza and William with teaching them where the space bar is, where the specific letters are on the keyboard and homework on typing sentences with CapsLock on and the alphabet.

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