Blog #13“Perry Pursues Pinky-Pleasing Purse Possibilities” – or – “Pull Up a Floor”

He is tall, bald and bespeckled, with a perfectly trimmed salt-and-pepper moustache & goatee. He claims to have spent his career in the Navy as an officer, despite never having served for one minute on a ship. If you ask me, he’s just another one of the many allegedly former military yet really secret agent guys that are all over the place in Lake Bluff. Go back 25 years, toss a toupee on his head, and he’s James Bond. There’s plenty to to back up my theory of “Perry Walcott as Secret Agent” (Is that his real name? He goes by Perry but his passport says his first name is “Fred.”) More later, unless he gets tipped that I’m blowing his cover and I mysteriously disappear into the polluted Nairobi night…

OK, I know you didn’t pick this up to read my bizarre notions. The truth is I am sitting on a rock hard, blue linoleum floor in the Nairobi Airport and my butt hurts. My backrest is a yellow stucco wall. In front of me is a 12-foot wide very slowly curving walkway lined with duty free shops selling booze, cigarettes, and little giraffe wood carvings that were probably made in China. There are virtually no chairs, nowhere to sit and eat – just bad shops and an endless stream of bored passengers in a mid-evening get-me-out-of here zone. At least that is where I am. By the time I had trekked on the curving hall to the end of the airport, beads of sweat formed on my forehead and neck, and I don’t sweat easily (tmi). It must by 80 degrees with100% humidity.

Two hours until we take off. Followed by an 8-hour (it is supposed to be a packed flight) journey back over the equator & the northern half of Africa & Europe to Amsterdam. Followed by a 6-hour layover in Amsterdam. Followed by an 8-plus hour trip over the North Atlantic. Then we are home, about 1:30 p.m. Amen, or as the say in Uganda, Ah-mean-ah!

The day started early for all with wake up visits from the Little Governor’s staff. Most visits came around 6:00 a.m., allowing us time to get to the Rovers for our 6:30 a.m. game drive. It would be a quick drive, as we needed to be back at the camp by 8:30 a.m. for breakfast, checkout and a 9:45 a.m. departure for the grass strip runway where we’d rendezvous with our plane. Having experienced one indescribable moment after another on prior game drives, no one had high expectations. Then, once again – we were surprised. On the way to our surprise we saw hippo, giraffe, baboons, gazelle – what had become over the prior 72 hours to be all the standard stuff.

Then we happened on a scene that told so much of the Mara story – a lioness tearing bits of breakfast from a Topi (think large deer with dramatic, dark grey spiraling horns). A Topi that had most likely been taken down during the night by the thick-manned patriarch of the pride, who lay content in thin, knee-high grass about 50 yards from the kill. About 30 yards in the opposite direction were two other lionesses, one with a belly so full from the feast it looked as if she was about to explode. Surrounding the carcass, waiting from a respectful of 10 or 20 yards were cute, foxy little jackals. As soon as the lioness finished her meal, the lead jackal waited about 20 seconds, and then anxiously tip-toed toward the remnants. You don’t want to tick off any of the lions who provided your breakfast. The remaining jackals came forward, and soon there were four finding pieces to tear away. Then, they’d run off into the grass to enjoy their gift. As I write about 12 hours after our morning experience, there’s probably nothing left at the site, save a few bones that by now had been scattered about a 100-yard area, as well as a skull, and some horns that will lay untouched. Vulchers by sometime in the morning would have smelled the carcass and circled overhead until their turn at the table, and wise hyenas would arrive at the site - having been drawn to the site because of the vulchers circling.

From the majestic, truly majestic lion to the irritating flies who invade the site of any kill – all will live for another day from the Topi whose life was taken. Yet the day will come for all who received to give their lives – the only question that remains is “when?”

The parallels to our human condition are obvious. Like the diverse mara animal population, they will be required to one day give their life in order to keep the circle and cycle of life going. And, the day will come when we will breath our last breath. Yet for us the question as to whether or not we contribute to the continuing circle of life remains unknown. The animals will leave their world better in having lived and died – what about us?

There are a number of “circle songs” from artists ranging from Joni Mitchell to the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band that fit this theme. One from the late, great Harry Chapin – a champion for human rights and the hungry – comes to mind as fitting the cycle of Mara life:

“All my life’s a circle, sunrise and sundown
the moon rolls through the nighttime, ‘til the daybreak comes around
All my life’s a circle, and I can’t tell you why
The seasons’ spinning round again
The years keep rolling by.”

As the sun peaked through the clouds, we drove back to the camp in awe of the Mara and the cycle of life. Getting out of the Rovers, we walked down the 40 stone steps to the Mara River for our jon boat ride to camp. I am sure all looked north to see how the Mama and baby hippo were doing. Seeing no activity, I asked the guide if he had any hippo updates (a first in my nearly 54 years, as I cannot think of another time I have asked anyone for a hippo update). He told me they had been seen in that morning, and all was well. One of the joyful places in the cycle, the on-going circle, continued for at least another day.

Sometimes the cycle of life stops us dead in our tracks, as happened immediately upon our arrival at camp. For there, with tree trunk-like legs standing in the dining tent, was a hulking, grey African elephant. We stopped in our tracks. Curiously, no one seemed afraid – just respectful of possibilities. From me, it was maybe 25’ away tops. The better way for you to understand this, is that I was close enough to see her curly black eyelashes. It was unreal.

When you get close physically to an animal, especially one like an elephant, a lion, a giraffe, a baboon, your sense of what they are is radically altered. One cannot help but see – my choice of words – they have a soul. How the senseless murder of the game animals continues, for example so a millionaire in Yemen can impress his friends because his decorative sword handle is made from the horn of the endangered black rhino, is beyond me.

Back to the elephant – I later heard that it stopped by Jan Luciano and Chuck Hauber’s tent, and with a swing of the trunk actually knocked a few posts on her porch over – while Jan was standing inside the tent! She was a little wierded out but totally fine. One of the Masai who work as the camp say sometimes the baboons who shake the trees to get the fruit to fall for themselves and their friends often shake so much that animal kingdom friends like elephants share in the bounty. For the elephants, the fruit has an intoxicating quality, and depending on how much they ate, they can get pretty stupid. The story was told that one time, the same thing happened – an elephant eating too much “happy fruit.” The elephant stumbled toward the bar tent, kneeled down, and proceeded to rest it’s head and trunk on the bar – for a full, two-hour nap.

Writing venues have changed – I am now in Amsterdam @ 6:15 a.m. at the airport. Will be here for another 6 hours or so. Uggh. Ready to get home. The flight from Africa was uneventful. We flew a 747 which was absolutely packed to the gills – not a single open seat. It was almost impossible to eat or sleep or move, let alone compute. To tolerate the experience you either had to (a) be really mature and accept it for what it was; (b) gain historical perspective and remember what it would have been like to make such a trip just 100 years ago, or; (c) take sleeping pills and pass out. I voted for (c) and journeyed down the Ambien Highway. After a trip where sleep was more elusive than a Black Rhino, it was fantastic to finally get nearly 5 hours of straight sleep.

It is time to find something to eat. Happily, Amsterdam’s International Airport is quite a flyer-friendly place, and not such a bad place to hang out. I imagine I will write up some sort of summary blog in the next day or two. And, I will use the blog in the next week to announce what will likely be a couple of public events that will be of great interest to anyone who liked following along on this blog. Hint: “pictures.”

Finally, thanks to Ken Hall for his technical help with these, and for Kevin Considine for helping sort through the bizarre problems we had in the beginning. Thanks to understanding loved ones who encouraged and supported travelers to make this important trip, and to Ted Cole for great shirts and help behind the scenes. Thanks to Toby Jones for preaching while I am gone. Thanks to God for safe journeys, and for a wonderfully spirited group that did an amazing job going with the flow amidst constantly changing dynamics.

Oh yes – one last thing. Yesterday Secret Agent Perry went purse shopping. He looked quite good, methinks, strolling around the shopping area sliding African purse handles over his wrist to see how they’d look hanging from his hairy forearm. He received much affirmation for his ultimate choices, so Pinky, Perry Pursued Purse Possibilities for you, and scored big-time.

I know he can’t wait to give it to you, just as all the rest of us cannot wait to get home and share stories and be with you. Peace, TD

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Today is Friday, February 19. Most importantly, it is Mary Jo Stevenson’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Mary Jo – Michael sends hugs and kisses. In addition, it is our last full day here at the Little Governor’s Camp. For many, the outdoor, slower-paced living has served as the ideal potent to the crazed pace we kept while getting to Uganda, being there, and then making it here to Masai Mara. Only now are many starting to unwind, and it almost time to go. I write again from under the mosquito net, with the sounds of frogs blended with some tunes from Kevin Considine & Michael Gherrity. Thanks!

This morning began before dark for all with a wake up visit from a Little Governor’s house person who arrived with a smile, cookies, and a choice of tea, coffee or hot chocolate. Then, for a change, we split up as a group. Noah Moreland, Perry Walcott, Sarah Lemieux and Andy Westin met at the GIANT hot air balloon launch site at 6:00 a.m. to watch the voluminous balloon be filled – and then go up, up and away (sorry, a little corny) for a hot air balloon sunrise safari. It was unlike anything I’ve seen – we’re used to little straw baskets that carried the Wizard of Oz away, right? Well, this basket carried no fewer that 17 people – 16 passengers and a pilot. During the hour-plus journey they floated across the sky, sometimes just over the trees, other times soaring high. They got a unique view of the Mara, and all came back enthusiastic at having made the trip. On the game drive back to camp, they saw Black Rhino (rare) as well as a pack of something chasing something. Frankly, I just can’t remember. It was for them a unique lifetime event.

Two others in the “KidsUganda: Adventures in Service” group - Julia Bristow and Caroline Hermes (you know her as CROYA’s Middle School youth worker) took advantage of an early morning walking safari and got a deeper sense of what it is like to be on the ground of the Mara. The smells, the tracks – how it feels to be an animal.

The rest of us, with the exception of two who were under the weather, left at 6:30 a.m. for a morning, pre-breakfast game drive. I am not sure I have adequately explained what a game drive is. In short, we load four trip members into a 7-passenger diesel Land Rover with an ultra heavy duty suspension. The driver is a highly-trained member of the Masai tribe, who spends the next couple of hours driving here, there, and everywhere. They must stay on the dirt roads, which are bumpy and in some cases such as after last night’s rain, filled with water. Suffice it to say, the Rovers are an adventure. They drive until either they or a passenger spots something exciting or interesting. We go that direction and then they turn off the engine for people to take pictures and not to disturb the animals.

What is amazing to all of us is that most of the animals – from elephants to lions to tiny birds and the extraordinary crested cranes – could care less if we are there. Today one group was within 25 feet of a bull elephant yet it was not an issue (except for the trip members who wet their pants). There are exceptions, as most hyenas are a little skittish, and the Black Rhino we spotted (yeah!) was not particularly excited by the presence of a dozen Rovers in a paparazzi-meets-celebrity moment. Mostly, however, the animals could not seem to care. As one of the guides offered, “they have no reason to fear us – they know the vehicles will cause them no harm.”

The morning game drive ended with everyone anxious to hear about the balloon safari, and excited at having seen both a Black Rhino, and for some, monkeys to go with the more common baboons. Yet what was most exciting was not what we saw on the game drive, but what we viewed as we crossed the Mara River in the hand-pulled jon boat to get back to camp. There – 40 yards up the fast moving river – was the massive hulk of hippo we had seen floating around the area the past few days. With her in the water was a (comparatively) tiny baby hippo, that had been born only a few hours earlier.

After getting out of the jon boat, we scrambled up the 50 or 60 steps to the overlook, where we had a perfect vantage point to view the mother giving her newborn swimming lessons. The mother swam in circles, sometimes seeming to pay great attention to the baby and other times not – including one time when the baby was swept away by the strong, estimated 5 knot current. With about 40 feet separating the two, the mother hippo high tailed it to rescue her baby, nudging it back up the river to the spot she had recently called home. The baby for the most part did incredibly well swimming in the river, though it clearly wanted most to climb on mom’s back. It was a trip highlight for many, and a sight not soon forgotten.

One other part of the story that was reported to me from a later group is that the mother hippo, along the shore in the shallow water and with her back to the river, lay dawn on her side forming a “C” with her body – the baby hippo safely inside. Kind of like a natural playpen for the baby, who at just a few hours old was swimming in the Mara River. It seems the sooner she gets strong, the greater the likelihood she will survive and thrive in the haven of creation called the Masai Mara. According to the jon boat guide, the waters are teeming with crocodile just waiting for an opportunity.

Lunch, like breakfast, was great. Salad, fresh bread, vegetables, skewered chicken – you get the picture. After lunch some went on another game drive, some lounged, some got a massage, some sat in the shade and marveled at the game gathered at the watering hole the camp faces. At 4:00 p.m. we went out for our final late afternoon game drive, and it was an experience not to be forgotten (editor’s note: I am sorry that I keep writing with so many superlatives and “never to be forgotten” kind of statements. I am running out of words to describe what this has been like. As I heard twice today from two different trip members “I can’t process all this and I have no idea how I am going to share it with my family and friends.” As in “how can I sit in Algebra at LFHS or in my office at work next week when just a few days earlier I was hot air safari ballooning across the Masai Mara, or eating lunch while warthogs bandied about next to our table?” So, that is a long-winded way of saying that there is so much happening here so fast – since the beginning of the trip that none of us, certainly me included – can effectively process it all).

The not to be forgotten experience should actually be plural, “experiences.” I want to get this out so I cannot go into depth on each one. We viewed firsthand the following:

Scene One: A rare leopard sighting in the bushes near the base of a tree. Rare meaning our guide said sometimes 2 or 3 months can go by without a guide spotting a leopard, who hunt at night and spend their days in trees. With 6 or 7 Rovers all together, we all struggled to see any movement in the bushes. Occasionally there’d be a tail sighting or a quick glimpse of the leopard’s head. Even that generated excitement. What we saw next was (here I go again!) the not to be believed part. We heard a russling, and then witnessed the leopard with an impala carcass in it’s mouth leap into the tree and with awesome power drag the fairly fresh carcass with it as it climbed 30 feet into the tree. There, it maneuvered the impala in a way that allowed it to hang from a branch, safe from all the scavengers who’d love to share the impala. Having properly positioned the impala to eat later, the leopard crawled out onto what appeared to be a skimpy branch and spread out for a brief bath (exactly like our cats at home) and a siesta. Spielberg would be hard pressed to produce a more spectacular event.

Scene Two: On our way home, totally satisfied, we noticed a few rovers gathered around a tree surrounded by bushes. Quietly, the word spread – two baby leopards! The unheard of event had suddenly become more amazing. One was sitting happily 25 feet up in a tree, while the other (our guide said this was unimaginable) was happily resting on it’s side in the grass. They looked happy, healthy, and without a care in the world.

Scene Three: We had been out way too long, so once again we left for home, blown away by what we had seen. One more time, our guide heard that two cheetah, a mother and a child, were not far away on the hunt, stalking a (I think) Thompson’s Gazelle. We pulled up, turned off the engine, and watched the stalking cheetahs move across the plain. It turns out they called off the hunt, and laid down on top of a 5 foot high abandoned ant hill. There, with her (estimated) one year old off spring by her side, the mother rested her head on her daughter’s back while both stared our direction.

We finally made it back, enjoying the sunset and dodging sweeps of rain that freshened other areas of the Mara. Of course, we looked in on mother hippo and baby as we crossed the Mara River to get back to camp. I am pleased to report that both mother and child are doing fine.

Our final dinner was once again excellent. The highlight was when a group of 10 masai men in traditional dress and garb entered the room singing and rhythmically moving about the room. At one stage, they dropped off a birthday cake for a woman named Susan from England as the entire dining tent joined in singing Happy Birthday. Then, while their unique singing continued, one at a time they demonstrated their prowess by making multiple vertical jumps. Then, the processed and grabbed Susan and our own Jen Hall, who both joined their singing and vertical jumping. It was a wonderful end to the evening.

I am out of gas. We have a game drive in just a few hours. I do want to mention quickly a couple of things. First, happy birthday Tommy Dickelman on Feb 20 when this will likely arrive. I miss you and love you and will see you on the 21st. Second, best wishes to Jean Meyers who was with her husband Bob originally scheduled to be part of our trip but had to bow out for some knee surgery. Hope you are mending quickly, Jean – we’ll see you on the next trip. Third, I have been listening to my iPod music on my computer as I’ve written, and only just paid enough attention to notice that the music playing is Derrick Stout’s recent Christmas album “Melodies Under the Mistletoe.” I am on safari in Kenya in seventy five degree heat sleeping in a mosquito net and listening to Derrick Stout sing “Winter Wonderland.” I think it is time to head home… (PS Derrick, hope you are feeling better)
- TD

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Where do I begin, to tell the story, of how…oh, sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. More on that later.

As I write, a steady, gentle rain continues to fall on our canvas tent roofs while bright flashes of lightening are accented by occasionally booming thunder. I am tucked in bed with computer on my lap and the mosquito net draped all around the bed. I’m hoping the net will keep the frog in the bathroom from jumping into bed with me during the night. And, while all I can really hear is a constant chorus of tiny African frogs singing, fellow travelers told me this morning the noise for them last night was not frogs but the movement of nearby hippos, and their occasionally being “shushed” (do you shush a hippo?) away from their tents.

Today – Thursday – was a day that revolved around food. Three very tempting, excellent meals that began with omelet’s in the morning and ended with beef and pasta in the evening. Given that I ate very little in Uganda, I made the error of overeating at both breakfast and lunch today. During the afternoon game drive bouncing around the back of the range rover my stomach felt like this huge washing machine that someone threw a huge variety of food into ad then put it on the wash cycle. By 6:00 pm when I got home I – along with a few others – was ready to lay down and let our stomachs settle.

The other way in which the day revolved around food was during our game drives. Basically, everything we witness in the Mara revolves around the animals either finding food or not becoming food. Yes, young lion cubs to like to wrestle and play and mating factors into matters here in a big way, too. But mostly, it is all about food.

The most powerful example occurred in the afternoon game drive. We drove to the site of the hippo carcass we had seen 24 hours earlier. Then, it was intact, and the lions that had killed the hippo were first in line to feast. Clearly, it was a fresh kill. Today, less than 24 hours later, there was virtually nothing left. The hippo was gone. All that remained were two hyenas that tried to tear away pieces of the incredibly thick black skin, which laid flat on the dirt like a rug. Nearby, a vulture pecked away at leftovers that had been dragged from the rest of the body. Bones had been broken and chewed by animals seeking the marrow. Here in the Masai Mara, it is all about finding food….and not becoming food.

The list of animals we have viewed is long – soon I will publish a list of “here’s what we’ve seen.” Of all we saw, for many the two lion prides with cubs, slow motion elephants and hippos waddling across the plains were highlights. Also, cheetahs and a pair of lions in “advanced stages of courtship behaviors.” And, incredible birds of every size, color and kind.

Among the animals that we will all remember is a family of warthogs that appear to have claimed the camp as their home. They scoot along on hooves that appear like spike heals, and while miserably ugly – they really are quite cute and appear very happy. Also, it will be impossible not to remember the elephants grazing peacefully at the watering hotel that sits at the center of the compound. All the common areas, and most of the sleeping areas, face this lush area – filled with birds, elephants, warthogs, and baboons.

While I did not join them, most of the group took the afternoon to go to the local Masai village to get a taste of the local culture. They got it in spades, stepping thru ankle deep mud (aka cow dung), swatting endless flies, crawling into the huts that serve as homes, and hearing the story of contemporary Masai life. For some it was a difficult experience, hearing of their ritual male and female circumcision, and how they drink the blood of their cows – an opportunity all in our group passed up. It was a challenging but valuable experience for most, who had the chance to purchase homemade art pieces from the tribe members before returning to camp.

O.K, now to the story I teased you with at the beginning…

When dinner was served at 8:00 p.m., all seated in the dinning tent were enjoying the dramatic lighting and thunder show over the watering hole – until the rain came. It poured, making it very difficult for anyone who had not been escorted from their tent by a Masai guard to make it to dinner without getting soaked. We noticed that our two, eight top tables were missing 5 people ; Ken, Chris, Scott & Jen Hall and Lauren Johnson.

They explained their absence – with beaming smiles – this way. Prior to coming to the dinner tent, Scott asked Lauren to check their digital camera. On the viewfinder was a picture of a gorgeous diamond engagement ring. Lauren instantly got nervous, thinking that she had someone pulled up something on the camera she was not supposed to be seeing. Before she could sort it all out, Scott appeared from the other part of their tent, and on bended knee, asked for her hand in marriage. The picture of the ring on the camera is the design Scott had come up with, combining a very special family diamond with clusters of smaller diamonds around it. Of course, Lauren said “Yes!!”

In lieu of trying to smuggle the new diamond engagement ring halfway across the world, Scott gave Lauren a simple, single band with “L & S Africa 2010” engraved inside. As they stepped into the dining hall everyone in our group heard the story and cheered, while other guests from the U.K. to Austria wondered what was up with this group of crazy American. We toasted Scott and Lauren, and settled in for what would be a joyful evening celebration.

As people headed to their tents, Friday would for sure be an adventurous day as Noah Moreland, Perry Walcott, Sarah Lemieux and Andy Westin signed up for an early morning hot air balloon safari. More on that tomorrow, which will be our last day – we leave Saturday morning.

A final thought before leaving for an early morning (6:30 a.m. game drive) where virtually all are hoping to see a rhino (slim) or a leopard (really slim). All on our trip miss our fellow Uganda travelers! We hope and pray that you had safe travels home, and that you have begun to share the story of the amazing friends we have at the Maranatha School. (P.S. – Jean & Tommy I miss you a ton and can’t wait to see you in a couple of days; Annie & Kate study hard to go with the fun I know you are having @ Rhodes…) - TD

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Today was the kind of day that people don’t have. In the last 24 hours, while most of the world was busy at work or in school, the travelers to the Little Governor’s Camp in Kenya had a day that left all of us shaking their heads. In the span of less than 24 hours, we (a) flew five legs on two different planes in two African nations – with some legs only five minutes long (usually a bad sign when a plane is in the air just 5 minutes!); (b) experienced two game drives; (c) ate elegant lunch and meals that ended with desserts like homemade mango sorbet and flaming crepe suzette; (d) stood in disbelief as a HUGE male elephant waltzed into our camp with swaying trunk and giant tusks to the bar tent while we ate dinner only 40 feet away; (e) watched two cape buffaloes mate; (f) observed no fewer than a dozen lions from as close as 25 feet, including six lion cubs frolicking together; (g) saw the same lions feast on a hippo, including the cubs who crawled on top the hippo carcass as if it were play time; (h) observed laughing hyenas, jackals, vulchers, and other scavengers waiting in the distance for their turn at the giant meal – for them, likely a couple of days away; (i) a sleepy mother cheetah lying atop a termite mound while her lone cub slept a few yards away, and; (k) saw everything from a baby baboon riding on her mother’s back to a male water buck sprinting around trying desperately to keep a few of his “lady friends” from deserting him for a stronger buck.

All this in one day, after having experienced a series of uniquely power days at Maranatha School & Orphanage in Uganda. We are on sensory overload.

I write this both so all who read this blog will have a little bit of an idea what we are doing, and so those on the trip not keeping a journal can have a day by day record of the trip. But I also write so those of you with loved ones who come home blown away and struggle to explain the experience they’ve just had will cut them a little slack. There’s simply no way to put into words what we saw today.

A word on Little Governor’s Camp. There are about 17 tents, most with twin beds. There is no electricity in the tents. You go around after dark only when escorted by a Masai guard, whom you can contact by shining your flashlight from your tent. The food is remarkable. The only way to enter the Little Governor’s is by getting into a jon boat and being pulled across the Masai River to the camp. Most of our group members are in tents that look out over a lush area of grasses with a high plateau in the distance. If tomorrow morning is anything like what they saw when we arrived today, they will begin the day looking at everything from giant white birds to frolicking baboons to wide-mouthed hippos to gigantic, slow-moving elephants. What a way to start the day.

(a seven hour jump – it is now 6:00 a.m. Thursday) Tea has been delivered to my room and it is time to get up, shower, wrap up this blog and be on our way with a 6:30 a.m. game drive. Andy and Perry have already left, as their morning drive will be a morning fly as they dirft lazily overhead to view the game from a hot air balloon. Those two grandpas will have something great to share with their grandchildren, and some amazing pictures to boot. Time to go – after the morning drive, breakfast, then a trip to the local Masai village. - TD

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As we bounce our way on Kenya Air flight KQ 415 from the infamous Entebbe Airport to Nairobi’s International Airport, what sticks in my mind is the feeling present in our group of 25 as we said goodbyes at Patrick and Eva’s home. There was a very real sense of sadness amongst members of our group, as an unnatural division occurred after 5 days of pretty intense togetherness. It would have happened sooner or later, it just occurred a half day earlier than planned. So, that’s the sad news – it was genuinely difficult for everyone to say “goodbye.”
 
What strikes me as even more important, though, is what it means. It means two nurses, a retired naval officer, four fairly recent college grads, a musician, a banker, a minister, a legal professional, two Lake Forest High School and five Woodlands Academy students, a social service worker, a finance executive, a massage therapist, and a soon-to-be retired business executive (I think I have everyone) connected in a pretty meaningful way while experiencing less than perfect conditions.
 
You can’t travel a good portion of the way around the world and not be hassled. Standing in endless lines at airline counters and customs desks, bumpy bus rides, lost luggage, bugs, no sleep, dry showers, excessive heat, a bus we had to push out of the mud while standing in the rain more or less in the middle of nowhere. Add that to planned programs that were only partially or completely unable to be implemented, such as Jack Herme’s vision to teach Ugandan children to swing a golf club (why not?), and you have a recipe for problems. That said, how many complaints have I heard from the 25 travelers on KidsUganda’s “Adventures in Service – Uganda 2010” trip?
 
Not one.
 
How often do you get that? It’s been pretty sweet. So, I feel very blessed to have participated as one of the travelers on this trip. Oh, how life would be if we carried that kind of attitude with us in all we do, wherever we go! I only wish you parents with teens on this trip could have been a fly on the wall (a cock roach on the floor?) so you could see the way your children carried themselves. You’d be very proud.
 
You’d also be proud of the enthusiasm with which everyone participated in everything. Whether singing in church, lugging bags in and out of the bus, or standing in toasty hot classrooms hearing beautiful, courteous primary students ask for the umpteenth time with their sweet Uganda accent “what is your name” – everyone participated. No prima donnas on this trip!
 
Time to land in Nairobi. Have to shut the computer down. We said goodbye to 10 of our group and say hello to a new member – Michael Stevenson. Michael is making about his 40th trip to Africa to be with us the next few days, and he is the one who is most responsible for KidsUganda even being able to do this trip. It would not happen without Michael. So, it will be great to be with him.
 
(an 8 hr. jump) It is now Wednesday morning. After a quick night at the Silver Springs Hotel in Nairobi, we are off to the commuter Wilson Airport (think the old Meigs without Lake Michigan) where we will catch a Kenya Air flight to the Mara. I will continue to write blogs during our safari, but may not be able to send them for a few days. Stay tuned) - TD

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(bloggers note: after we began the day at 6:00 a.m. to try and get on-line to send our blog, and failed not once but three times, I started to wonder if maybe God was saying “Dude, quit worrying about the blog and be in the moment – you are in Africa! Enjoy it!” While I kind of liked that idea, it did not fit with what we had communicated we would do for everyone back home. So, given that we FINALLY! got online yesterday, we will keep it going as long as we can. By the way, our process was to (1) send the blog from my computer to Ken Hall’s computer, (2) from his computer to his blackberry, and then send it from that – but only after Kevin Considine at home in Lake Bluff reconfigured the blog. Please know we are sorry for the problems, and for the fact that we could not send pictures. All the pre-trip testing at home went wonderfully well. Unfortunately, we need to always remember, I think, that “this is Africa.” That statement has been made a few times on this trip, from recognizing that we cannot force our way to sending the blog when the internet in Mityana is down, to the fact that a few bugs (in America we call the cock roaches) visited some Enro rooms during the evening. Finally, I re-read the blog for the first time last night as it arrived on my phone, and noticed the huge number of grammatical errors. Thanks for understanding. – TD)

For about 10 in our group of 26, Monday began with a pre-dawn 6:00 a.m. pickup by bus driver Ruben, who took us to the Maranatha School (Mizigo) for the ritual student welcome. Each school morning as the sun rises over the valley that fronts the school, Patrick greets each student by name with a smile, and often a hug. Today, we had the chance to join him as students primarily clad in red school uniforms ran up the dirt street for 8 hours of classes. It was a great treat to start the day with enthusiastic students, some in the early primary grades and who walked a few miles in the dark to get to school.

Breakfast was at the Enro from 7:30 to 8:30 a.m. as it is most mornings, with no-yolk omelettes, toast, and fresh fruit among the more popular fare. Ruben picked us up at 8:30 a.m., for a ride to the beautiful Nkonya School, which overlooks a beautiful lake and dramatic foliage. Our time at Nkonya was both hot and hot. You got it – the equatorial sun was a little toasty, and standing in a field between the school and the lake in a circle of about 100 for a game of duck duck goose (Jack Dintruff and Scott Hall were among the stars) only made it more of a challenge. After the bumpy jungle bus ride out of Nkonya, we rode to Kygalama (pronounced Chig-a-lama), a school that has roughly 300 students. Kygalama is also tucked into lush fruit trees, palms, coffee bushes and eucalyptus trees, and has grown nearly 10 fold in the last 4 yours.

We went class by class, listening to the students in their rooms sing songs and ask questions of us such as “what is your name and where are you from?” At the end of our tour, all 300 students – courteous to a fault – lined up outside for New Orleans native Geary Barnes’ presentation of candy and beads to the children in honor of the upcoming Mardi Gras celebration.

It felt good to sit down on the bus, hot as it was, as we journeyed to the main school – Mizigo. After another feast at Patrick and Eva’s, we toured Mizigo is where the border / orphan students live, and there is a primary school as well as a vocational school for primary graduates. It is the biggest of the schools, and again we went class by class. Most noted the posters that lined the room, offering everything from mathematical formulas to scientific theories and concepts. These kids, one person said, are learning “real stuff.”

While most of the students at Mizigo asked the typical questions, by the time we got to Primary 6 we were being asked “what materials do you put in a skyscraper?” and “do you have witch doctors in America?” and “why do people like President Obama when he supports rights for homosexuals?”

We finished our tours by checking the vocational school & computer lab, “Jodieland” girl’s dorm lower level, and the poultry farm, which has more than doubled in size since our last trip. Exhausted, totally exhausted, everyone was happy to get back to the Hotel Enro for a quick shower before a trip “meeting” and dinner, which featured Patrick and about 10 other members of his extended family.

Following our meal, we took turns sharing what we would take home with us and what we learned. There were some laughs as well as some tears as some incredibly articulate travelers shared their insights, some of which revolved around the wonderful it was to experience the shear joy and happiness present in those who have so little. For all, it was a time of reflection, both of their time in Africa as well as of their life at home. We also heard from our African guests, who shared from their vantage point the value of visits. Again, some tears and thoughtful statements. It was a powerful evening.

Now, despite the fact that everyone was “toast” after a very long day, Patrick’s son Solomon had the idea that the students from our group and the young people who had joined us for dinner should do some singing to end the evening. While the adults relaxed, the mix of African and American young people in four groups created songs – some accompanied by dancing – that they performed for the entire group. It was a show of extraordinary talent and spirit, and it will surely be a part of future trips.

By 10:30 or 11:00 p.m. most everyone was in bed, having experienced a joy-filled but very long day. – TD

Blog #8A Bittersweet Time

This trip has gone incredibly fast. It seems like we just arrived, and yet today the group heads different directions. Later this afternoon, 15 members of our group head to Entebbe Airport for a flight to Nairobi, while 10 – including 8 students – remain at the Hotel Enro tonight and leave for Kampala and a flight to Amsterdam and Chicago tomorrow. It is difficult to split up the group, and it was never our intention to do so. Unfortunately, about 10 days ago Kenya Air cancelled our original flight which was scheduled to leave tomorrow, giving us no choice but to take the earlier flight tonight. So, it is a drag, but you have to play the cards you are dealt.

It is about 9:45 a.m. and I am taking a break from the tour of the Mizigo pre-school to write. For some, the day actually begin in the middle of the night with loud claps of thunder and at times, pouring rain. About 8 folks got up early to head to the school to greet students arriving amidst the rain. Some rode with Patrick, while others had the thrill of riding a “boda boda” – a small motorcycle (they are everywhere) which is used as a one or two person taxi. Breakfast followed, and most are on the classroom tour. Later, we will head to the final, new school, the name of which I do not even know. It is hard to keep up with the visionary, entrepreneurial Rev. Walusimbi. Then, a late lunch followed by an airport trip for some and an afternoon of fun at Mizigo for the others. By the way, thanks to Geary Barnes and Mary Lourie – both who have enjoyed this trip with their own high school age children, for accompanying six additional students back to the states.

As I sit on the Walusimbi’s concrete patio, the palm trees wave slowly and the rain falls gently. There are two omnipresent sounds here – of children laughing and playing, and birds singing. Every now and then the neighborhood rooster crows, or someone rides past on a boda boda. Mostly, though, there are only natural sounds. I cannot help but wonder why, when given the extraordinary freedom that is ours if we claim it, that our choices typically take us in the direction of hyperactivity and noise. Yes, there remains much about Uganda that is problematic, from the lack of an economic base to severely limited health care and educational opportunities. But there is a peace, a tranquility, a natural pace – the sometimes frenetic Rev. Walusimbi notwithstanding – that is more refreshing than a summertime swim in Lake Michigan on a sweltering day. Amidst everything that folks take back to home to America, my hope is that the peace of Uganda will be more than just a memory.

Quick Update: We just returned from the school and are about to eat lunch at Patrick and Eva’s home. Our big adventure was pushing our bus out of the mud, which had gotten stuck. No dull moments in Africa. Kenya travelers leave for the airport later this afternoon to catch a flight to Nairobi, while those heading home to Chicago tomorrow will spend the afternoon at Mizigo and leave for Kampala in the morning. For those who are interested, I will try to keep this going during our safari, but I do not know what internet services are available. Peace, TD

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We’re Getting There!  

We’re getting there!  Kind of.  You can take the more depressing view (and say as we sit in Detroit for a connecting flight) that we have 1 out of 17 hours of flying under our belts.  The more optimistic view is that we are a third of the way there, having already knocked off the first of three legs on our way to Entebbe Airport in Uganda.  I prefer the more positive approach.

Our check-in went well. Of course, I did leave an bag at home (nothing important, just stuff like malaria pills!) that luckily my wife Jean spotted. So, she made a quick trip to O’Hare that allowed us to say “goodbye” a second time. Everyone else seemed to remember their stuff, and we took off and landed in Detroit on time.

About the only exciting thing that has happened thus far was when the group was almost run over by an airport worker hauling a gigantic load of toilet paper as we posed for a group picture. Luckily, we escaped unharmed.  Not too much else to report – just lots of smiles and excited people ready to make new friends in a land about 8,000 miles away.

A final thought. This blog will be updated as often as is possible. Frequently, it will be done on the run when we have a window of time. Please understand that very little or no time will be spent editing or trying to make it grammatically correct. I appreciate your understanding!  They are calling us to board – got to fly.  – TD

Blog #3

Amsterdam Welcomes KidsUganda Travelers

The purpose of this blog is primarily to share stories of the KidsUganda “Adventures in Service” trip with family members, friends, and interested parties back in the U.S. Having said that, we also recognize that many folks, particularly parents of the 10 teen-agers on the trip, are interested in knowing that all is well throughout our journeys. So, this quick update for a simple “all’s well.”

The eight-hour flight on the very full Airbus 330 was (happily) uneventful. We arrived about 7:00 a.m. Amsterdam time and have a three and a half hour layover before taking off for another eight hour flight to Entebbe. Our scheduled arrival is 8:40 p.m., and after we clear customs we’ll load up the bus and head to the hotel to enjoy some non-airline or airport food. After what will hopefully be a great night’s sleep, we leave after breakfast for a brief stop in Kampala before the two-hour bus trip to Mityana. – TD

Blog #4

Day One In Uganda

You’ve got to love technology! All I wanted to do was send out a simple blog note to let people know we are fine while in Amsterdam. Unfortunately, after sending the blog entry at an airport internet kiosk, by computer decided to speak with the blog computer. They evidently liked each other, and their conversation took up 169 pages with over 1000 entries! If you are someone who had to make all those deletions because of the glitch, please accept my apologies.

As I write, we are at the Imperial Hotel in Kampala on Saturday morning, within view of the Ugandan Presidential Palace and Lake Victoria. Birds are singing in the background, and there is a very happy rooster waking up travel weary sleepers. Here on the equator, it seems that the sun takes a very long time to rise. It is a glorious.

Not so glorious was spending about 19 hours on three different planes and an additional 7 or so hours hanging around airports in Chicago, Detroit, Amsterdam and Entebbe, Uganda. All things considered, we had a very smooth and mostly uneventful trip. At least as good of a trip as you can have given two, eight-hour trips on completely full planes.

The one challenge was that 1 of our 50 or so bags did not arrive last night. So, Jack Dintruff is waiting – hoping for the best – for his bag with clothes and other personal items to arrive. Jack is the trip’s computer expert, and the other bag he brought – with laptops for the school – arrived safely.

Last night, after more than 24 hours of traveling, we had an 11:00 p.m. dinner at the Imperial Hotel. The food was good, but most everyone was ready to crash right after dinner. When I went to my room, I put down my bag, got organized and just for kicks turned on the TV in the room. Here I was 8000 miles from home and what were the first images to greet me on the screen? Whoppi Goldberg in a nun’s habit, and on the next channel Hulk Hogan in the ring exclaiming “I’m back!” Think I’ll leave the TV off.

People are finishing breakfast as I write, and getting ready for another day of travel. We’ll go to downtown Kampala and then to Mityana.

Blog #5

On to Mityana

The day began with a bus ride from the Imperial Hotel in Entebbe – a little more than a stone’s throw from the Presidential Palace & Lake Victoria – to downtown Kampala. It is a place where the third world meets the first world. In front of the large Barclay’s Bank or an internet café you might see a woman in traditional dress carrying bananas on her head. Or, a beautifully decorated procession of three shiny Mercedes while a man, apparently homeless, wheels himself and his belongings through the middle of traffic in the opposite direction.

While in Kampala we experienced traffic that is scary at best and maybe just entirely CRAZY! We came within inches of getting hit or hitting people, cars, you-name-it, more times that we can count. Not bad driving, just par for the course. After exchanging money and standing on the sidewalk in rather sweltering heat, we made the executive decision to blow off lunch go straight to Mityana. The ride on the bus and in Patrick’s van was not to be believed. The road is almost entirely under construction, and every half mile or so there was a huge speed bump built into the dirt, bringing any vehicle to a near halt before speeding up only to slow down again for the next bump. And, there were the usual challenges like needing to make a stop at a gas station for a bathroom break (nicer and cleaner than any U.S. gas station men’s room!), no paper in the lady’s room, someone getting locked in their stall. Par for the course on a trip like this.

It was good to arrive at the Enro Hotel, a series of disconnected, stucco-like buildings with a high fence around the entire compound. We got rooms squared away – who was sharing rooms – and everyone crashed for awhile before getting back on Ruben’s bus (the driver) for the 5 minute ride to Patrick and Eva’s house at the Maranatha School.

The meal at the Walusimbi’s home was more than a BBQ – it was a banquet. BBQ’d chicken (a little awkward with the Maranatha Poultry Farm just 100 yds away), pork, beef, and maybe goat (not sure). We were joined by the teachers from all 5 Maranatha Schools, who gave up their Saturday evening to be with us. Everyone at the feast took a moment to introduce themselves and there was a wonderful feeling all around. As the sun set, we took a quick tour of the School, which included the opportunity to meet and visit with some of the happy, spirited children who are borders at the school. Pictures were taken, names were exchanged, soccer balls were kicked and informal games played with the beautiful, exceedingly well mannered children. And, all the while in typical Maranatha fashion there were young children – 2 & 3 years old and cute beyond description – happily wandering everywhere, playfully getting into everything. One child named “Gracious” is Patrick and Eva’s grandson, and at age 2 he already seems destined to become a politician or a world class salesman.

Ruben drove us home as darkness came to Mityana, and everyone noted that the streets were just as they’d been on the drive in – filled with people of all ages walking and standing along the side of the road. The main streets are like steadily moving rivers of people who, no matter the direction they go, are all swimming up stream.

For most, the night ended on Enrio’s patio, as we enjoyed the chance to unwind, play a game of pool, have a drink, and tell stories. From experiencing packed, polluted Kampala to kicking a soccer ball with a sweet and innocent young children, it had been quite a day. – TD

Blog #6

A Whole Lot of Shaking Goin’ On

Some slept like babies on Saturday night, while other wondered why people would be able to party as loudly as they’d like until 4:30 a.m. Evidently, there was some sort of special event at the Hotel Enro. Maybe the International Keep Everyone Else Awake Festival. (I bet none of them had to preach the next morning).

We gathered for a breakfast of toast and sausage and eggs and fresh fruit and juice, and then everyone loaded onto the bus in their “Sunday best” for the worship service at the Maranatha School. On the campus is the church building, which probably had about 200 people present for the 2 plus hour service. Many were children and pre-teens, which mirrors the Uganda population, where fully 50% of the population is age 15 or under.

The service was filled with dancing and singing and “Praising the Lord!” The Maranatha Church belongs to an African Pentecostal denomination, where expressive and sometimes ecstatic worship is the norm. Suffice it to say, it was lively, and quite a bit different than the Community Church, St. Pats, and the other churches in Lake Forest & Lake Bluff we are used to attending.

I had the privilege of preaching at the service, with Patrick as interpreter. All I can tell you is that I’d say something simple like “God loves you” in English and Patrick would ramble on in his wonderfully spirited way in Lugandan (the local dialect) for 30 seconds, saying who knows what! I have faith that he was improving the sermon…

We also had everyone in our group come up and do a song for the Maranatha folks, after we introduced ourselves. Led by Jen Hall, we sang “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” while was both theologically appropriate and musically simple. Of course, a few of us with more progressive spiritual views had a light-hearted debate before the service on whether we should sing “He / She’s Got the Whole World in His or Her Hands” but we decided to go the traditional route. I don’t think our African Pentecostal brethren spend a lot of time debating whether God is more he than she, or vice versa.

I wish I had some others from our group nearby right now to ask their impressions of the service, but as I right the shy is dark, the crickets are singing and most hopefully are asleep. What I do think many would comment on is the primary learning one adult traveler shared at dinner Saturday night – that it is amazing, and good in a deep and rich sense of the word - that there could, amidst deep poverty, such extraordinary joy.

After worship, there was more time to visit with people from the school, look around, kick the soccer ball, and just hang out before we had yet another feast at Patrick and Eva’s house. One person noted that the generous, diverse food offerings alone were “really something” to prepare – let alone outside on an open fire, where all meals at the Walusimbi home are prepared.

After our meal we once again had Ruben take us back to the Hotel Enro, where people hung out until it was time to go back to Maranatha @ 5:00 p.m. for a very special ceremony – the Dedication of the KidsUganda Girl’s Dormitory, aptly name “Jodieland” after Jodie Nedeau. Jodie was a participant on the 2008 trip, and frankly found herself appalled by the living conditions for the girl borders / orphans who lived at Maranatha. Upon arriving home, Jodie mounted a campaign to build a new girl’s dormitory at the school. While Jodie would be the first one to say she did not do it alone, everyone involved in the project agrees that Jodie was an amazingly devoted and powerful force in getting the dorm built. She was involved in every aspect from fund raising to design. And, when I had the privilege of dedicating the building in her name, I could not help but have a tear in my eye as I unveiled the bronze plaque outside the main door of “Jodieland.” One person can make a difference…

On a lighter note, before we dedicated the building, all the travelers along with 100 or so others enjoyed a performance by the orphans / borders at the school. Amazing dancing & singing! Ask a trop member you know to share their video. And, while one group of girls danced, I noticed that some of the girls in red t-shirt printed on back “Dickelman House.” I had no awareness prior to the event that the girls dorm was divided into two houses, similar to how there are different houses in the “Harry Potter” movies. At “Jodieland” there are two houses, Stewart (after long-time & devoted Maranatha supporter from Colorad Andy Stewart) and Dickelman. All I can say is that I felt quite honored, and few times in my life can I remember the feeling I had as the girls who were part of “Dickelman House” seemed excited to meet the person whom their house had been named after. No matter what else happens from here on out, that will be the highlight of the trip for me.

It is 5:45 a.m. now so I have to wrap this up. Ken Hall and I are going over early to the school to spend some time in the computer lab and try and get this to you. It has been the greatest challenge of this trip – getting this blog out. It started in Detroit and has followed us thru Amsterdam to Kampala and now Mityana. So, while others greet the students as they arrive, Ken and I will hopefully, for the first time, get this to you.

By the way, I did not sleep so well last night and woke up around 1:30 a.m. After reading, cleaning my room, and working on this, I figured I’d give TV another try. What was on? None other than Jerry Springer. So far, Whoppi Goldberg dressed as a nun, Hulk Hogan ad now Jerry Springer. What would you thin about American and Americans if the primary way you gained information about them was through the TV shows they export? So much for social commentary.

The bottom line so far for the trip? Time is passing SO QUICKLY and all seem to be doing very well. - TD

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We apologize for the technical difficulties we had with multiple blog postings (over a thousand yikes!).  Special thanks to our Lake Bluff partner Kevin Considine for the tedious work of individually deleting posts for us. We have fixed the problem and will be updating the blog soon.

For now we are safe and sound at the Golf View Hotel in Entebbe, Uganda.

Ken Hall