There isn't much more to say. Thanks very much, again, to my wonderful readers, you've made this trip and writing this blog a great experience. And mostly, thanks to you wonderful, bright, beautiful kids from the UJV for letting me hang out with you. Soon you again soon.-A-
Friday, March 27, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
What makes these babies so hot, especially compared to your garden variety 'I honk for Toosh' or 'Plumbers do it with Pipe' stickers, is that NO ONE ELSE in North America has one. That is to say a J&A bumper sticker is a true symbol of your individuality and distinctiveness of character.
I am raffling off the 10 J&E sticks to ten distinct individuals for the lean price of $100 each. All proceeds will go directly to the Jack and Ethel and will be used to buy reading materials, finish construction on a new class room, thereby allowing the addition of new students, and to provide meals for the children. So for a mere c-note you can feel both unique and ethically upright. Please contact me directly if you care to buy one.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I'm on the porch drinking my last coffee in Africa for this trip and I'm terribly sad to be leaving. This trip has been an amazing chapter for me, one that has changed me. All the things that people tell you about Africa are true, but that doesn't prepare you for the direct experience of how true they are. Jon, if you're reading, you were right, it gets into your blood.
I'd like to find an organization to work with to keep doing support work in Africa. If you know any please refer them to me. I've also picked up a few good, small, 'on-the-ground' causes that I am going to be supporting, if anyone cares to join in.
Thanks to everyone who helped me get here with donations and support. While I was the person who was 'in-country', this was a group endeavor and I hope I availed myself well.
I'd like to thank all the friends I met in Africa. The amazing UJV staff who put up with the loud, sweaty white guy with the huge camera. Brent and the Mengo White trash, and Leffke. Of course I'd really like to thank Nicole, my travelling partner and the person who got me here. Lydia and Lana, my stylish bushwomen mentors for taking me with them to Acholiland, that was one of the best things that I've ever done. Lydia, good luck with the wedding. Lana, well you know.
I'd like to thank the kids at the UJV. You are an amazing bunch of people and I look forward to watching you grow up and seeing the incredible people I know you will become. You are my little brothers and sisters and I will miss you every day until I return.
I have really gotten a taste for blogging and I intend to keep doing it at;
I'll be posting new photos and words there. If you care to hear about my struggles with culture shock, economic recession, and reintegration into Canadian culture that would be the place.
In closing, I'd like to thank the people who've read or followed this blog. I have no idea how many you were, but based upon the huge amount of feedback I received it was more than I expected. As amazing as Africa is, at times I felt lonely and knowing that someone was reading helped ameliorate that.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Much as I like the 'social-circle' acquaintances that I meet, and I'm not talking about my close friends here, I am rarely stunned by them. They might be 'hot', 'nice', or 'cool', but I rarely if ever think them 'great'. These people, on the other hand, seemed all exceptional.
At points, conversation was moderated, 'church group' style, with a leader designating a speaker. Some toasted the birthday girl, others just eloquently spilled their guts. A lanky man, let's call him 'Alex', obviously well educated, talked about the recent death of his older sister, whom he clearly loved and admired greatly, to a sudden, arbitrary, and seemingly harmless infection. It had prompted a strong desire in him to have children, lest some quick death rob him of the chance. The group chimed in with their own multitudinal losses, hardly a soul in the room, myself aside, had not lost brothers and sisters and parents and relatives and old friends and co-workers and mentors and neighbours and fellow survivors.... the room felt thick with ghosts and death sat in the corner.
You and I, we might think we have lost, our grandmas and occasional parents or friends. But if we had truly lost, we would not gather and drink and talk about real estate, or careers, or what we had just bought, or our blogs or bands, or the economy, or new music. We'd, at least for a quiet second, hold each other and honour the dead. The ghosts. The ones who weren't there. The few, comparitively, that we have.
It seemed to me, in that room, that the pervasive presence of death brings something out in the character of a person, like a hard threshing that separates the husk from a person, a cold wind that fills your sails. Maybe it's just that much more appreciation for life. We in Canada, with our low mortality rates and incredible health care system and reliable sanitation systems and plentiful food supply, are robbed of that and I fear that it dulls us.
Alex and his friend Ken drove me home in a lovely, new-model 4WD station wagon, an Audi or Volvo, listening to contemporary African- American soul along the way. When we got to Kitunzi, where I live, they were shocked.... "You live here, in this neighborhood? It's dangerous! You're not scared?"
Nah, it's Fine. Thanks very much for the ride, and the good music. I'll be ok.
Years ago I incorrectly guessed that a New Zealander I'd met was from Australia. With beatific dignity he replied "Kiwi......like Auz, but bettahhhhh'. Since then I've often used that myself when asked if I was American....."Canada, like the U.S., but.......BETTER!!!!!".
The Bush 'W' years were great for being Canadian, the 'salad days' of Canadian self-righteousness. Everyone hated the US and loved us Canucks, most satisfyingly the few remaining rational Americans. This era saw the rise of the 'Self Hating Yank', an intelligent, guilt-ridden liberal from New York, Northern California, or Seattle. My friend Zach actually flaggellated himself everyday for 8 years, like a prostrate monk doing pennance for the bad voting habits of southern rednecks and soccer moms. For a while, as the US economy crashed like a cheap Pontiac on a crumbling New Jersey turnpike, our dollar was even worth more than theirs. Despite the fact that this resulted in my taking a %20 pay cut, it felt great to watch restaurants refusing greenbacks offered by American tourists. It was like their ears were unable to comprehend the words "your money is no good here".
What a great f'n time for the maple leaf. I walked with my nose high in the air and got used to the adoration, the drinks people bought me, the phone numbers foreign girls gave me, perhaps hoping for a strong Canuck husband who might give them a good home in Montreal, Winnipeg, or Ottobicoke.
Not so anymore. Post Obama, foreigners no longer look at you suspiciously, with slitted eyes, and mutter "American"? They run up to you, bright faced, and hopefully exclaim "American"! When I desperately retort with that impotent NZ line, "No, Canadian! Better!" they slap down "Obama!!!!!" like some kind of sick trump card. F**k off kid, we built the hospital in your refugee camp!
It's not just Barak's fault either. It's Alberta's. Compared to Bush, Harper looked like some kind of bumbling, harmless Gollum character. He was ugly, but you could safely ignore him. But let's face it, with our neighbours to the south having suddenly and unexpectedly gotten their s**t together, and Molmar Quadaffi hanging out with Bill Gates, we are being led by the worst neo-liberal, neo-fascist, carbon burning, goose stepper on the planet. Comon, with a few more seats in the house this guy would be banning Harry Potter books cus they promote sorcery, putting gay people and Quebecers in concentration camps, and outlawing trash recycling and dancing in public (except line dancing, he loves that s**t). People, we need to elect a cool, left leaning, non-white person ASAP (hey Liberals >>>>> Ujahl Dosanj??????) before the rest of the world adopts the 'Ugly Canadian' moniker and I am forced to rip the little flags off my luggage. If not we will be reduced to trotting out Michael Ignatieff in black face, like some kind of twisted, ivy-league Al Jolson.
Mr. Obama, in making America more like Canada, a move I supported you in doing (and props to you for making Canada your first state visit, you are welcome back any time), you have taken away one of the best things about being Canadian.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Thanks to everyone for the great feedback, it means a lot.
If anyone cares to email or FB me the scores of Canucks games, as well as say 'hi', that would be much appreciated.