Resolutions

There is a funny thing about new years resolutions other than the idea that arbitrary celebrations of the judo-christian calendar will result in anything more than a restrospective cry for deliverance of one's sins from the night before. The truly funny thing is that it's about this time of the year May / June that we start to realize maybe staying up till midnight wasn't the best turning point for changing our at times adolescent behavior. May 5th is that day for me.

So hi here I am fresh off a re-commitment to my initial commitment 5 months ago to keep all of you up-to-date on happenings here. Almost a full year from my last post but indeed here never-the-less. Cataloging the last year into anything manageable or choherent would be a task that not even our dear Obama would be up to so I won't even try. Rather let me leave you with some lessons learned as I speed down the African slop toward my close of service in March / April 2010.

Lesson 1:

Whatever your impression of Africa ... it is wrong. Whatever my impression of Africa it is probably more wrong.

Lesson 2:

Do things that are manageable. This goes out to all of us as individuals as we look for charities and to the development world in general as it tries to re-package and re-save the world over and over again. Billions don't always help but school fees always will.

Lesson 3:

The veil has fallen. Your, my, their lives have been extravegant and out of touch with the reality of the soul. Reality shows are not reality and no one who matters cares what your hand bag looks like. We all need to be careful what we import and export from and to the world. I see a lot of parents here doing a hell of a lot better job managing their children and lives than I see in the states. I also see a lot more potential in the American family than I have in others around the world. It's not your future that matters it's theirs.

Lesson 4:

Stay in touch with the one's you love, you never know when they'll be gone.

Lesson 5:

The box is hard to step out of but once your out you'll never want back in. Network, collaborate and seek out something new. Complacency is worse than apathy but typically its root. Everyday is a new day, there is always more to learn.

Lesson 6:

You are no different than me and I am no different than you.

Love you all. I promise to do this more.

Jinja Life Jenga

I guess it’s about that time again. Good afternoon family and friends. It’s Friday June20th, in this lovely year of two-thousand and eight and spring is in the air or at least the end of the rainy season. I’m told it’s supposed to start to dry up a bit around the beginning of June and well here we are at the beginning of July and the powers that be have blessed us with one of those San Diego days. The sky is about as blue as could be the breeze is cool like whip and for some reason the guy cutting the lawn is using a weed whacker. One thing we might collectively think of doing is opening a lawn-mower import business for our dear friends in Uganda. There are only two ways of cutting grass in this country and until I see a third this is my story and I’m sticking to it. The first you might have guessed it is with a weed whacker and an orange prison jumpsuit. Minus the four by four, industrial lawn mower and immigrant labor this scene is really not far from any local landscape crew in the states. The guys definitely look like they know their way around grass and stylish shades go hand in hand with “what are you looking at approach to life.” The service industry will always be the service industry no matter where it is. The second and well absurd approach is with a machete bent at the tip close to the same angle as your back will be if you employ this approach more than once a year. People, and when I say people I’m speaking of the vast majority 80%, I would say some where in the neighborhood of once a week grab their “Panga” and start “slashing” (both actual references). There is literally this robotic like drive to work that is utterly pervasive to Ugandan society. Thomas Freidman wrote in The World Is Flat that if the world were like neighborhoods of a city it would look like the following:

Western Europe would be an assisted-living facility, with an aging population lavishly attended to by Turkish nurses. The United States would be a gated community, with a metal detector at the front gate and a lot of people sitting in their front years complaining about how lazy everyone else was, even though out back there was a small opening in the fence for Mexican labor and other energetic immigrants who helped to make the gated community function. Latin America would be the fun part of town, the club district, where the workday doesn’t start until 10pm and everyone sleeps until midmorning …. Freidman unfortunately, like most of us playing arm chair quarterback with any and every issue outside of our boarders gives Africa a tremendously unfair diagnosis. Sinister really, Tom Tom references Africa in more words or less as the dilapidated slums where light never illuminates the streets and hoodlums, (insinuated enough) dark in tone like the night, seek nothing and equally have nothing. As much as I would like to address this statement directly I’ll save that for the day I have a chance to exchange words with Mr. Freidman in a more appropriate venue. For now however, I’ll propose a different take on Africa and more specifically Uganda will be my case study for this little exercise in urban sprawl.

Central Uganda is the neighborhood from Leave it to Beaver, where an inherent and intrinsic respect for morality, family and a hard days work determines an individual’s reputation which still means more than the size of one’s bank account. It’s rude not to greet on the roads with at least a wave of the hand and peoples smiles far out weigh their frowns (though it must be noted no one smiles in photos). The houses are simpler than 50’s style American abode for the most part and the roads reflect the sprawling dirt roads of Arkansas or Mississippi. The life-style is quaint and people live to save and buy rather than buy to live. Houses are built in stages as families actually pay cash as they build. Children are instilled with a deep respect of education and a hard days work through a school system which stifles creative thinking but produces sharp minds non-the-less all at a cost of one semester of housing at any American University. Growth is dynamic despite a repressive government determined to out live itself that provides a true threat to stability in the coming years. However, Ugandans have attained a level of life and sophistication that they would only fight to maintain. This is not spears and drums; this is capital and a white picket fence that is actually an 8 foot concrete wall forming a compound that ensures survival in sanctuary of security that anyone traveling through might feel up until 11 pm or so not knowing their environment. The dress is perennially business casual for even construction workers which again shows the staunch commitment to not thinking outside of the box but also that people really respect their places of work. Finally, what is Uganda well I’m going to go as far as to say it is everything that San Diego dreams to be, pretends to be and can never be because of the superficiality of American society and lack of rain.

Best wishes overcoming the zealous nationalism Mr. Freidman as you say the world is much more flat than we think, ourselves included.

***I must say before I go that there is one stellar young man that I would love to say hello to because well he’s pretty much the coolest boy cousin I have on my dad’s side of the family so BEN BEN! DUDE WHATS UP? Or in Luganda Oli otya sebo? Things are goin great over here you would have a ton of friends because the kids love to play outside after school just like you. Make sure to give everyone a big huge for me and HAPPY BIRTHDAY your getting really really old … like a dinosaur … ok well until next time …. Love cousin Vance

What it is ...

Well well well my pedigree chums (and family of course), looks like this is the entry I promised to talk about actual life in Uganda. As we spoke last time Monday-Friday is most often a true 9am-5pm office job. I sit at my desk read reports, edit reports, churn out reports and do my directors bidding. Honestly 9-5 would be nice however last night work was an 8:30am - 9:15 pm. The day is broken-up like most office life in the states except the nice part is when I walk out of the office I can walk 100yrds downhill to my house to sit on my porcelain thrown and read the numerous books that accompany that most splendid of glade air fresheners.

The clock strikes 11am my mind is rocked by the chiming of the church bells ... for whom does the bell toll? ….. Seriously there are no church bells but about 11 I get this intense stirring, my hands start to shake, Rex and Scooby-Doo, our guards dogs (really their names), run wildly about the compound and William's son Chris, my dear 7 year old friend, begins to once again assure me he escaped from Circ Du Sole by doing one handed back hand springs …... iiiitttttssss … TEA TIME!!! So I wander in to the conference room and pretend to be British for a half an hour and no I haven't started lifting my pinkie finger though most days I do adopt a terrible British accent.

Typically, it's time to read a bit more of my books at this point presently The World is Flat, Villa Incognito, and One 100 Years of Solitude. About a half n hour at my desk is all I can take at this juncture of the movie Office Space which has become my life, despite the cool, steady breeze from the window at my back. It is 75 - 80 everyday and sunny so trust me an office is the last place you want to spend the day no matter how wonderful the work.

We break for lunch at 1 and all proceed to the conference room where lunch is served. The masterful cuisine consists of a number of highly bland and starchy substances ranging from boiled cassava root, to boiled sweet potatoes (which are not sweet), Matooke (Ma-toke-EH) the Ugandan equivalent of a national delicacy which doubles as the Central regions staple food, made of strained unripe bananas mashed to the consistency of o say mashed potatoes if you added half a can of Crisco and then put it in the sun for a day… Come to think of it, it’s more or less like if you took Play-Doh, 15 yellow sticks and 4 green, beat them with something blunt and covered them in grease …. Posho … wow let me tell you about the worst edible substance know to human kind …. Is it edible? I’m not sure but I’ve seen people eat it. My understanding is it’s made by dropping millet flour in boiling water and praying for a glob of the most stark white and airy paper mache your pot can produce. The sad part is it looks like mashed potatoes but I think that’s just because your wandering the Sahara of carbohydrates begging for an oasis of something familiar.

The day flies by rather quickly after lunch which ends between 2 and 2:30. The work day is usually wrapping up by 5pm – 5:30 but there have been a couple nights now where I’ve been working until 9pm. So that is a typical workday in a typical work week but as you know most weeks in life aren’t typical so you have to stay open minded and flexible at all times.

The week nights are quite for the most part. I would say 5 out of 7 nights I either head to Seta, Mukono or Kampala for groceries and internet. Monday nights in Kampala there are almost always a few volunteers in town aside from the 5 or so of us that live within 5 miles of the city. The food in Kampala is amazing I’ve been spending a lot of time at Effendi’s a Turkish restaurant and hookah bar in Centennial Park (pictures included). Café Pap is about a 6 block walk into the city center where I use their free-wireless internet and rub shoulders with government officials on Parliament Ave. while drinking over priced coffee (the idea of Starbucks if not the place itself has truly taken the world). The city itself is busy with traffic and a bustling business crowd. The traffic on Jinja Rd coming into town is atrocious and it can take me nearly an hr to travel the 5 miles from my site to the city.

The nice thing about cities across the world is that there is always something to do. From May 1^st -11^th there is an art and film festival at the Kampala National Theater that has performances running daily from 10 am – 11 pm for free. The other day power was out at work so I headed into the city to meet some friends to watch a documentary on the Darfur Genocide. Sitting in a theatre full of Ugandans watching a film on African Genocide in a country bordered by the two countries highlighted by the film is a rather emotionally complex experience. Tomorrow I’m headed to a lecture on Globalization and Regionalism in the African Context headed by East African scholars.

In lue of a cultural event you can always find a cold beer and a place to relax. Across the globe there is the Backpackers’ chain of hostels and the one here in Kampala is one of my favorites. It takes a bit to get there like navigating New Taxi park while trying not to get pick pocketed or find yourself arm in arm with a nightworker but it’s worth the effort. The manager is now a dear friend of mine and he’s done his best to show me some of the highlights of the city including surviving thus far. Once your there however, the food is good, the beer is cold, the pool is free and there are various monkeys and foreign girls wondering about ….. what is heaven?

There are literally a few bars and clubs here where you can forget that you’ve ever left the states except for the fact that somehow everything is “expensive” but still dirt cheap. The bars I think literally never close and I must thank God for the 24/7 fried chicken place. Ugandans as a people are amazingly attractive and always willing to strike up a conversation with an absolute stranger (at least one that’s a muzungu) but really they are just an outgoing people so it makes the bars fun. You can also find an array of live music most every night of the week so your options are truly everything from an Irish Pub to Jazz, Pork and Beer to Clubbing, drinks from the club house to playing pool outdoors at a local dive bar. Did I mention it’s always sunny and 75 – 80 everyday … If your really feeling like going home then you can step into 1 of the 3 Casinos in town for free drinks and food as long as you put $10 on the table. The one at the 4 story Garden City Mall sitting on Kampala Golf Course offers the feel of home at a fraction the plane ticket. You can even catch a movie at the movie theater or go bowling at Ally-Gators.

So when I’m not in one of the towns I’m back in my house cooking, cleaning, doing laundry while listening to music. Most nights at home I either read or watch a movie (I’ve got a pretty stellar DVD collection going). I try and get some exercise in a few days a week either by playing soccer or working out at home. Soccer is a huge deal here and a good bit of the little bit of TV I’ve watched here has been devoted to pretending to support soccer outside of Uganda. You can always ruffle a Ugandans feathers by taking jabs at their favorite football club so I try and give William as much grief as possible about those pansies that play for Man. U. The championship is this weekend and he’s going to have a field day with me when they actually win it. But all in all that’s what life is here in Uganda or the best I can summarize it at least. Kaggende (Let me go)!

Life it seems a struggle between what we see what we do ...

The world is a complex universe in and of itself. There is far too much that we are unaware of as we struggle with the troubles of our lives. None can be written off, nor understood by even those closest to us, however; none are too great to overcome the resilience of the human spirit. In our darkest times the capacity of our maker becomes the resourcefulness of our spirit.
Perception is a hell of a drug and far too often a manifestation of our own ignorance. Take for example the belief that Africa is some how a place

not made of our own being. Skepticism, arrogance and a lack of information make the struggles here seem as desolate as the Sahara. Despite my studies, my time spent away from you all, in lands which I wrongfully mislabeled and no doubt continue to, I was still a victim of a gross mischaracteristic of this place in which I will spend the next two years. The daily struggles of a Ugandan are only slightly different than those of us all. Issues of family, work and the constant struggle to provide for oneself and those we hold dear are true the world over. More aptly the internal struggles are a constant reminder that our life is finite.
Before I attempted to convey a picture of my life in training but let me say it was a pitiful one at best. Descriptions as a whole are only our baneful attempt to make sense of the world around us. Ideally the more we are informed the more accurate our story becomes but at the end of the day, as we say, it is what it is.
So let me convey the next chapter in my book of life. I’ve now been at “site” (PC lingo for where we live and work) for what’s fast approaching a month. If there is one thing true about Peace Corps it is that everyone’s experience is there own. My story is an African tale that I naively did not expect. I work for the Community Based Rehabilitation Alliance (COMBRA) which attempts to improve the livelihoods of people living with disabilities in Uganda. The majority of our work is conducted via trainings for community based rehabilitation workers. I had no idea what a community based rehabilitation worker was and let me be frank in stating I’m not sure I still do …. But I’m gettin there folks so hold tight.
CBR, as it’s called, is an approach taken by Physical Therapist to transfer services that were once solely provided by institutions (hospitals and the like) to client’s homes and communities. Uganda is a country plagued by disabilities ranging from leprosy to physical disabilities as a result of car crashes – loss of limbs, etc., etc., etc. from the many wars throughout the country and region. It’s overwhelming and only amplified by a lack of proper understanding of what disabilities are and / or why they occur.
Think of the situation in America in regards to the disabled. Though we have some standards; handicap access, laws protecting the rights of persons with disabilities, we still find those suffering from physical and mental conditions oftentimes in horrendous conditions. State and national care is lacking, an attempt to integrate these members of society is shortcoming and those families or persons dealing with disability are overwhelmed with where to even begin. Now compound those factors in a developing nation with a poorly funded healthcare system, gross stigmatization and an ever growing population in a modern context. Where do these people fit? What are their rights? And where the hell do you begin?
I’ve only spoken superficially with most of you in terms of my education and what it is I really do, for that I’m sorry. Let me be honest though and say a main reason is because I haven’t found an issue area or career that has really moved me. In reality in a sense I’ve just been going through the motions hoping to stumble upon something that re-awakened my soul and my life. Peace Corps was supposed to be that something or at least that’s what I told myself for these last few years as I shuffled my feet and tried not to screw it all up (which I constantly tried to do). Yet, through it all I’m here and I hope a better person because of it. Further, I really feel like I’m in the right place. I’m inspired by the work of the organization, my co-workers, the country, and the community at large. So thank you for being there, because I have depended on all of you more than you could ever know, for the support and the love that you’ve given throughout, not only these last few years but my life as a whole.
So on to the answer to that big question “What do I do?” Dad asked this one from time to time with some skepticism and dad might I say rightly so …. So thanks for keeping me honest through the bullshit. Aside from bullshitting and writing well, I am starting on a path of business development. Specifically, I work in non-profit and NGO development. The goal of this type of development is to strengthen the capacity of these organizations to fulfill there mission. Sooo again what the hell does that mean … well it means I work with upper management and donors to meet the needs of a larger and larger community that they target through their mission, in this case people with disabilities. How do I do this? Well it’s a tricky question because each organization’s needs vary according to the level of development the organization, the training and experience of the people with in the organization and the context in which the organization functions.

So the following is my job description any questions on it feel free to ask ..... heres a starter ... am I qualified .... no but if qualification and accomplishment were synonomiss then nothing would ever get done.

GENERAL BACKGROUND ON THE ORGANIZATION The Community Based Rehabilitation Alliance (COMBRA) is an indigenous non-governmental organization (NGO) committed to facilitating sustainable development of persons with disabilities (PWDs) at all levels. COMBRA was founded in December 1991 with aim of increasing accessibility to rehabilitation services, reduce attitudinal and physical barriers, and increase community participation through community-based rehabilitation (CBR).
POSITION TITLE NGO Development Advisor Scope of Work
SUMMARY STATEMENT OF THE JOB

The objective of this assignment for the Peace Corps Volunteer is to assist COMBRA in the strengthening of institutional capacity. This is an NGO development assignment; the Peace Corps Volunteer shall research, develop, organize, and conduct capacity building training, and institutional development programs for all levels of staff.
ESSENTIAL DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES
1. Familiarize self with the objectives and planned activities for COMBRA.
2. Work with senior management to build the capacity of COMBRA’s administration.
3. Conduct needs assessments of beneficiaries, develop, and implement an outreach plan to further the program and increase its effectiveness.
4. Assist with the development and design of organizational capacity building interventions to help improve staff skills.
5. Design assessment instruments that will be used by management to conduct a post training assessment to assess the impact of the training (before and after).
6. Research appropriate local training resources /vendors and lead the development and implementation of training programs and workshops.
7. Provide technical assistance in the area of information communication and technology to assist staff to improve their usage skills.
8. Assist in the research, development, and communication of policies and procedures.
9. Provide regular updates and reports on the progress made in capacity building activities within COMBRA.
10. Advise the management team on successes and lessons learnt, including which strategies are shown to work and which have not.
11. Facilitate and participate in project reviews and evaluations.
12. Participate in compilation of monthly and periodic reports of the organizations activities and functions attended on the behalf of the organization.
13. Assist in implementing community sensitization, training and other project activities as required.
14. Assist with the design and development of HIV/AIDS awareness and sensitization workshops and developing peer education programs for collaboration with management and staff.
SUPERVISION AND REPORTING

The Volunteer will be reporting to the (Title of Supervisor) of COMBRA who will assume primary responsibility with respect to project and job performance issues and adherence to policies and regulations of COMBRA. The Program Manager for Economic Development will assume primary responsibility for the supervision of the volunteer with respect to Peace Corps policies, regulations and benefits. The Volunteer will produce quarterly reports on his activities for COMBRA and Peace Corps. The report will follow a Peace Corps reporting format and any other format required by COMBRA.

Sooo in this case I am working with a fairly well developed organization in terms of its existence and assets (it was founded in 1990 and our operating budget is in the ball park of $1.4 million/yr). The organization is headed by a board of 9 members, an executive director Barbra who I report directly to, an accountant who I am to work directly with, a community director, a director of training, a director of appropriate technology and two assistants to the office who double in most capacities. Further, we have about 7 other support staff including drivers, cooks, groundskeepers, and security guards. These roles shouldn’t be thought of as concrete duties but serve more as headings for roles that are much larger than I could even summarize.
The organization’s prime source of income comes from training CBR workers in a series of workshops delivered throughout the year. The largest training is a 4 month, 5 day a week annual training which is a month into progress as I write. The “students” live on site here at the organization along with good ol’ William (the director of training and a dear friend along with his family (wife and 3 children)). We have a hotel on site and are in the process of building an additional 4 story hotel, though the first floor is all that is showing and was just completed this week. It’s nice to have company from the students who hail from across East Africa from as far away as Zambia and as close as a 15 minute matatu (taxi that looks like a van from Scooby doo and always holds 20 -24 though they are only licensed to hold 17) ride.
The organizations complex is located 5 miles east of Kampala the capital of Uganda on the main highway connecting it to Nairobi, Kenya and the Kenyan ports. Uganda gets its power supply from hydro-electric dams on the Nile which are 30 miles further to the east on the same road. This thankfully means that the area is lucky to avoid blackouts which are common for much of the country which typically receives power 3 -4 days a week. The road is also in very good shape though and it should be mentioned that highway in this case means a two lane paved road marked by potholes and speed bumps that make travel time double what it should be on a US highway. I've written far too much for this post that's at least a taste of life. I truly work an office 9 -5 most days though it's great when I can get to the community with William. I'll make sure to touch more on life outside of work in the next post. Weraba abantu!

And by a Nearly Unanimous Decision Vance Brown = Biggest BS'er of PST Class Feb 2008 .... Did you really expect anything less ; )

I passed my language exam!!!!! Which I have to say is quite impressive
because my luganda is terrible. It however was kind of miraculous so
allow me to share the story if you will. I showed up for the test
expecting that I wouldn't pass and would have to be tutored for the
next few months like 90% of the other volunteers. Let me further add
that prior to this the longest conversation I've had in Luganda was
some where in the ball park of 3 to 4 minutes. So I walk into the
exam and what do I find out but she asks me to a T every single
question I was prepared to answer! I ended up having over a half n
hour conversation in Luganda with her and if anyone ever asks you are
a professor at college teaching business and dad is a doctor (its much
easier to say these things than it is to say a construction company
owner and the head of IT). SOOO YEA!!!!

I know that you wanted a little more on my day to day so let me do my
best to explain the past week and then I will probably copy and paste
that to the blog ... sorry everyone reading the blog but mom's wishes
come first. So last weekend was the end of our time in Luweero, a
small village about 2 hours drive north of Kampala the capital city.
I had been staying there with the Semuganyi family. Mr. Semuganyi was
a former chair of the local town council and he and his wife have 8
wonderful children whom I've grown quite close to over the last 8
weeks. I had been livings in a small one room guest house in the
Semuganyis backyard about a 10 minute walk from the training center
that peace corps had rented out for our training.

The training site was about a 4 acre plot of land bordered by a
concrete wall. The compound itself is actually a diocese which houses
some missionaries, a hotel, conference area, and now a restaurant
which was completed during our stay. The vast majority of the central
region of Uganda which is refered to as the Buganda region because of
it's tribal affiliation is lush and tropical. It's more like a hilly
oasis of spralling banana plantations than anything else. Truly what
San Diego dreams itself to be. The compound throughout training had a
unique Berekely esq., Berekely of the 60's and 70's that is, feel to
it. Now that we have bit of a scene set let me commence with a
typical day in Luweero during the last 8 weeks of training.

Right around the ass-crack of Allah a rooster would crow remind me
that sleeping-in in this country is truly not an option. This was
typically around 6:30am though most mornings I was already awakened by
the early morning rustling of 8 children somewhere near 5 or 5:30 am.
So there I would sit under my dark green mosquito net in my room,
books pilled to the side of the bed, ipod somewhere amongst the sheets
and blanket which were to cumbersome to use in the heat of the night
(I've always wanted to use that in a semi-serious context ... check!)
a pile of dirty laundry in the corner and some clothes which were
washed the day before hanging from the window adjacent the door. It
was comforting, it was home and I really shall miss it. When the
rainy season set in around the beginning of March most nights I would
be kept awake well into the night by the drumming of rain on the thin
tin roof. Despite the lack of sleep the rain was a welcomed relief
from the typical African night. Its not unbearably hot but at times
it is uncomfortably warm. My new home where I shall spend the next
few years is however bit of a different story which for time sake I
shall touch on in another entry. So I would wake much earlier than
any self respecting college student every would and do a bit of
streching before unlocking the pad lock from the large steel door
which sealed my security and most surely would have confrimed my end
if a fire were to start .. though I'm not so sure what in my concrete
cage could or would have burned. From there I would grab my 4 gallon
bright blue, peace corps issue bathing bucket and would head to the
spicket next to the house. Most mornings I would fill it head back to
my room grab my soap and shampoo greet whom every was in the yard by
saying Wasu' otya? which translates how did you (how well) spend the
night. It is actual culturally taboo to use a cup our pitcher to splash water on yourself once you find your self squating beneathe the African sky in a concrete square which is your shower. It is also apparently quite appropriate to throw shampoo bottles at any large creature which might also be lounging in the shower area. At this point you cup your hands and in a freakish sort of convulsion throw water at random parts of your body. After you find yourself coated by an mm or so of water you grab a bar of soap and begin only to return to the bucket for more vigorous splashing ... typically this last for or 5 or 10 minutes and the brisk morning air makes you wish it was more like 5 or 10 seconds. Finally in true muzungu fashion you lift the bucket above your head and allow for the remaining bit to act as a small bucket waterfall. At this point grab the closest shirt (I've stil yet to purchase a towel) and there you have it an African shower. Soo from here its back to the room perhaps an awkward exchange in the yard and time to prepare for breakfast and the day.

Dress is a big thing here in Africa and if you don't look "smart" someone will give you a passive agressive retort you may take days to recover from. It's not in anyway that the people are rude here in Uganda its just that the are a very indirect people who spend there days trying to tell you rather directly things that are indirect. At any rate I can't emphasize enough how well dressed Ugandans are! They truly make us look like slobs in America which again to be honest isn't that difficult. The women all wear dresses or skirts with blouses all conservatively cut. The men are all in trousers with belts and dress shirts tucked in .... its truly the society of business casual.

Alright on that note please stop reading this email between me and my mother and go do something productive with your life .... And here is my address just incase you feel inclined to send mild taco bell hot sauce packets or a badmitten set .... its big here ... reeeaaalll big

Vance Brown
Community Based Rehabilitation Alliance (COMBRA)
PO BOX 708
Kampala,Uganda

March Madness

Let me start by explaining the subject line of the previous posting. Imagine yourself, close your eyes it helps, ok open them you have to read the rest that was a bad bit of advice ... anyway imagine if you can a road stretching off into the distance the red sand acting like a yellow brick road through a lush green savannah interclad with banana plantations and the taste of fresh rain in the air. Ahead in the distance a small group of children peaks over the horizen to far to draw conclusion of age or sex but only to gather the outline of tiny bodies against a sky which fades to a red nearly matchin the dirt you walk upon. Almost instantly as a smile broches you hear like the call of a dying giraffe ... BYE MUZUNGO BYE MUZUNGO BYE MUZUNGO ....

Bye Bye Muzungo!

Well this far more difficult than first imagined .... how to summarize the life that is ..... I suppose some excerpts from my journal are the most insightful and efficient route to take so here goes ... Until one stands beneath the African sky dripping wet, naked as the day one was born, the gravity and reality of the decision to join Peace Corps suffers a forced delirium .... It were if the idea of time was actual as absurd as our perception of time itself. A life left behind seems but a whisper in the vacuum that is ...Humbled in a way never known ... Taunted by a world far greater than the red sand of which we return. I could not ask for more nor know any less. Complexity formed by the algorithm of life is strip searched only to find the king is not only without clothes but couldn't make a pair of trousers if his life depended on it ... A few initial reactions from the first month or so the date on this is Feb. 20th 2008 more to follow