Uganda diary: An offer for a tea plantation

4 10 2010

In the UK, sometimes someone will offer to buy the next round at the pub, or maybe treat you to a cake from Greggs at lunchtime. Spontaneous mild forms of generosity are common in the UK – when we’re with friends, family or colleagues, us Brits are good at giving each other little treats. In Uganda, I was offered two hectares of a tea plantation.

Whether this was a genuine offer, I doubt I’ll ever know, but it was nice all the same.

A lazy day

Friday 20 August passed by without any real event. Emma and Vianney jumped on the back of a couple of bodas for the day, visiting friends’ families, but I opted to give my brain some time to adapt to the new surroundings and so I just stuck around my new neighbourhood.

Because of this absence of anything of real interest happening, I’ll bullet point my day:

  • Awoke and ate breakfast
  • Emma and Vianney left
  • Did some laundry
  • Went for a walk to find the internet cafe
  • Reached a sign which pointed right, and said “Internet cafe 200m”, so I turned right
  • Got lost
  • Six-year-old Ugandan boy gave me directions
  • Found internet ‘tent’
  • Did some emailing. Realised this was the first time I’d ever been on the internet while surrounded by mountains and rainforest
  • Returned to rest camp
  • Befriended some English people
  • Read Alain de Botton’s Status Anxiety
  • Chatted to Herbie and Rebecca again (Cool Swiss Couple), and Ryan, a South African also driving around Africa. Then sat with English friends until Emma and Vianney arrived back
  • Had spaghetti with Buhoma’s tomato/mixed herb sauce
  • Played ‘Peruvian’ card game and drank beer
  • Slept

Brew and biscuits, Uganda style

After a three-quarter-hour journey along winding, steep and bumpy dirt roads through some of Bwindi’s gentler mountains, at about 10:30am on Saturday 21 August, we arrived at a pleasant little bungalow overlooking a vast area of tea plantation.

The two boda bodas. Three up on one bike - extremely dangerous, but likewise very funny

We were here to meet Sam, the director of Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School – an incredibly hospitable man, but with a quiet and thoughtful demeanour – who welcomed Emma, Vianney and I into his home.

We were welcomed with some biscuits and some real Ugandan tea. The biscuits were similar to shortbread. They were crumbly, so I did an excellent job in making more of a mess than Sam’s three or four-year-old nephew, Elvis.

The tea was like no other tea I’ve ever had before. It tasted like strong Ugandan water. To me, Ugandan water tastes a bit earthy, a bit like drinking water filtered through soil. Regardless, there’s never a bad time for a brew and some biscuits (NOTE: in Uganda, ‘biscuit’ is pronounced ‘bisskwit’).

‘When you come to Uganda next time, I will give you two hectares

Sam, Sam’s brother, Sam’s brother’s son Elvis, one of Sam’s children, and a nameless man (he had a name, but I didn’t find out what it was) who carried a machete took us for a wander through Sam’s tea plantation.

As we wandered through the tea plants, Sam turned to me and said: “When you come to Uganda next time, I will give you two hectares.” So, if I ever decide to make Adams Tea, I have potential land (I would suggest ‘Adams Family Tea‘ but I donn’t want people to automatically click their fingers when they read or hear about it). I’d want to grow some trees though. And also have some tourist lodges (but not taking up much room – tea takes priority). This would be because whenever I am in Uganda (I’d probably run the business from home for most of the year, because England is, after all, still my home), I would want there to be some fellow travellers around, just to make it a bit more homely. I’d also buy a Land Cruiser.

Eventually, Machete Man led us to Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School (for reference, it’s in the Kanungu district, very close to the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park).

Since opening in 2007, the school has grown from 50 to 210 pupils, with the aim to raise this number to 400 by 2012. Many of the pupils are orphans who have lost both their parents to AIDS. These children either live with their parents, or the family is headed by the eldest child. Some of the children are HIV positive, and others are from pygmy families. The native pygmies lost their homes after they were evicted from the rainforest when it was designated a national park in 1991.

The children raise money for the school by making jewellery, and carving wooden gorillas, zebras and masks – Sam is the orchestrator of this, and sells it at a shop near to the Buhoma Rest Camp.

Carving a gorilla

Making beads

Paper bead jewellery

A lesson on reality

We were shown how the jewellery is made, and how the gorillas are carved, and then the inevitable singing and dancing followed. Emma and Vianney fully deserved the thanks. I did not. It’s a strange sensation to be sat watching about 20 children – each of them directly affected by HIV/AIDS – dancing for you, seeing in you hope and salvation (you’re white, you’re from Europe, you have money) from the cruel legacy that AIDS leaves behind once it has annihilated families. I was just there as a tourist and to take some jewellery home to sell on their behalf.

Nevertheless, putting the more sombre perspective aside, it was great fun to see so many of the children dancing, singing and clearly enjoying themselves. For one of the final songs, Sam made Emma get up and dance too. I declined. The reason I gave was that I was getting a video of it (which I was), but the real reason was that I’d have looked like an utter pillock. So I left the dancing and singing to those who knew what they were doing.

Three speeches followed. Two by a couple of older lasses (about 17/18), and one by the headboy. Each speech, or ‘message’, was about HIV/AIDS. It soon sunk in how lucky we are to live in a country, in a part of the world, where one of our biggest concerns is the cleanliness of the hospitals on our free national health service.

Saturday was a fun, but likewise humbling day; a day where I encountered, on a personal level, the reality that so many people in Uganda face. Sunday would be far worse.

Uganda diary: An offer for a tea plantation

In the UK, sometimes someone will offer to buy the next round at the pub, or maybe treat you to a cake from Greggs at lunchtime. Spontaneous mild forms of generosity are common in the UK – when we’re with friends, family or colleagues, us Brits are good at giving each other little treats. In Uganda, I was offered two hectares of a tea plantation.

Whether this was a genuine offer, I doubt I’ll ever know, but it was nice all the same.

A lazy day

Friday 20 August passed by without any real event. Emma and Vianney jumped on the back of a couple of bodas for the day, visiting friends’ families, but I opted to give my brain some time to adapt to the new surroundings and so I just stuck around my new neighbourhood.

Because of this absence of anything of real interest happening, I’ll bullet point my day:

Awoke and ate breakfast

Emma and Vianney left

Did some laundry

Went for a walk to find the internet cafe

Reached a sign which pointed right, and said “Internet cafe 200m”, so I turned right

Got lost

Six-year-old Ugandan boy gave me directions

Found internet ‘tent’

Did some emailing. Realised this was the first time I’d ever been on the internet while surrounded by mountains and rainforest

Returned to rest camp

Befriended some English people

Read Alain de Botton’s Status Anxiety

Chatted to Herbie and Rebecca again (Cool Swiss Couple), and Ryan, a South African also driving around Africa. Then sat with English friends until Emma and Vianney arrived back

Had spaghetti with Buhoma’s tomato/mixed herb sauce

Played ‘Peruvian’ card game and drank beer

Slept

Brew and biscuits, Uganda style

After a three-quarter-hour journey along winding, steep and bumpy dirt roads through some of Bwindi’s gentler mountains, at about 10:30am on Saturday 21 August, we arrived at a pleasant little bungalow overlooking a vast area of tea plantation.

We were here to meet Sam, the director of Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School – an incredibly hospitable man, but with a quiet and thoughtful demeanour – who welcomed Emma, Vianney and I into his home.

We were welcomed with some biscuits and some real Ugandan tea. The biscuits were similar to shortbread. They were crumbly, so I did an excellent job in making more of a mess than Sam’s three or four-year-old nephew, Elvis.

The tea was like no other tea I’ve ever had before. It tasted like strong Ugandan water. To me, Ugandan water tastes a bit earthy, a bit like drinking water filtered through soil. Regardless, there’s never a bad time for a brew and some biscuits (NOTE: in Uganda, ‘biscuit’ is pronounced ‘bisskwit’).

‘If you come to Uganda, I’ll give you two hectares’

Sam, Sam’s brother, Sam’s brother’s son Elvis, one of Sam’s children, and a nameless man (he had a name, but I didn’t find out what it was) who carried a machete took us for a wander through Sam’s tea plantation.

As we wandered through the tea plants, Sam turned to me and said: “When you come to Uganda next time, I will give you two hectares.” So, if I ever decide to make Adams Tea, I have potential land. I’d want to grow some trees though. And also have some tourist lodges (but not taking up much room – tea takes priority). This would be because whenever I am in Uganda (I’d probably run the business from home for most of the year, because England is, after all, still my home), I would want there to be some fellow travellers around, just to make it a bit more homely. I’d also buy a Land Cruiser.

Eventually, Machete Man led us to Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School (for reference, it’s in the Kanungu district, very close to the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park).

Since opening in 2007, the school has grown from 50 to 210 pupils, with the aim to raise this number to 400 by 2012. Many of the pupils are orphans who have lost both their parents to AIDS. These children either live with their parents, or the family is headed by the eldest child. Some of the children are HIV positive, and others are from pygmy families. The native pygmies lost their homes after they were evicted from the rainforest when it was designated a national park in 1991.

The children raise money for the school by making jewellery, and carving wooden gorillas, zebras and masks – Sam is the orchestrator of this, and sells it at a shop near to the Buhoma Rest Camp.

We were shown how the jewellery is made, and how the gorillas are carved, and then the inevitable singing and dancing followed. Emma and Vianney fully deserved the thanks. I did not. It’s a strange sensation to be sat watching about 20 children – each of them directly affected by HIV/AIDS – dancing for you, seeing in you hope and salvation (you’re white, you’re from Europe, you have money) from the cruel legacy that AIDS leaves behind once it has annihilated families. I was just there as a tourist and to take some jewellery home to sell on their behalf.

Nevertheless, putting the more sombre perspective aside, it was great fun to see so many of the children dancing, singing and clearly enjoying themselves. For one of the fi

Uganda diary: An offer for a tea plantation

In the UK, sometimes someone will offer to buy the next round at the pub, or maybe treat you to a cake from Greggs at lunchtime. Spontaneous mild forms of generosity are common in the UK – when we’re with friends, family or colleagues, us Brits are good at giving each other little treats. In Uganda, I was offered two hectares of a tea plantation.

Whether this was a genuine offer, I doubt I’ll ever know, but it was nice all the same.

A lazy day

Friday 20 August passed by without any real event. Emma and Vianney jumped on the back of a couple of bodas for the day, visiting friends’ families, but I opted to give my brain some time to adapt to the new surroundings and so I just stuck around my new neighbourhood.

Because of this absence of anything of real interest happening, I’ll bullet point my day:

Awoke and ate breakfast

Emma and Vianney left

Did some laundry

Went for a walk to find the internet cafe

Reached a sign which pointed right, and said “Internet cafe 200m”, so I turned right

Got lost

Six-year-old Ugandan boy gave me directions

Found internet ‘tent’

Did some emailing. Realised this was the first time I’d ever been on the internet while surrounded by mountains and rainforest

Returned to rest camp

Befriended some English people

Read Alain de Botton’s Status Anxiety

Chatted to Herbie and Rebecca again (Cool Swiss Couple), and Ryan, a South African also driving around Africa. Then sat with English friends until Emma and Vianney arrived back

Had spaghetti with Buhoma’s tomato/mixed herb sauce

Played ‘Peruvian’ card game and drank beer

Slept

Brew and biscuits, Uganda style

After a three-quarter-hour journey along winding, steep and bumpy dirt roads through some of Bwindi’s gentler mountains, at about 10:30am on Saturday 21 August, we arrived at a pleasant little bungalow overlooking a vast area of tea plantation.

We were here to meet Sam, the director of Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School – an incredibly hospitable man, but with a quiet and thoughtful demeanour – who welcomed Emma, Vianney and I into his home.

We were welcomed with some biscuits and some real Ugandan tea. The biscuits were similar to shortbread. They were crumbly, so I did an excellent job in making more of a mess than Sam’s three or four-year-old nephew, Elvis.

The tea was like no other tea I’ve ever had before. It tasted like strong Ugandan water. To me, Ugandan water tastes a bit earthy, a bit like drinking water filtered through soil. Regardless, there’s never a bad time for a brew and some biscuits (NOTE: in Uganda, ‘biscuit’ is pronounced ‘bisskwit’).

‘If you come to Uganda, I’ll give you two hectares’

Sam, Sam’s brother, Sam’s brother’s son Elvis, one of Sam’s children, and a nameless man (he had a name, but I didn’t find out what it was) who carried a machete took us for a wander through Sam’s tea plantation.

As we wandered through the tea plants, Sam turned to me and said: “When you come to Uganda next time, I will give you two hectares.” So, if I ever decide to make Adams Tea, I have potential land. I’d want to grow some trees though. And also have some tourist lodges (but not taking up much room – tea takes priority). This would be because whenever I am in Uganda (I’d probably run the business from home for most of the year, because England is, after all, still my home), I would want there to be some fellow travellers around, just to make it a bit more homely. I’d also buy a Land Cruiser.

Eventually, Machete Man led us to Kishegyeri Community HIV/AIDS Awareness School (for reference, it’s in the Kanungu district, very close to the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park).

Since opening in 2007, the school has grown from 50 to 210 pupils, with the aim to raise this number to 400 by 2012. Many of the pupils are orphans who have lost both their parents to AIDS. These children either live with their parents, or the family is headed by the eldest child. Some of the children are HIV positive, and others are from pygmy families. The native pygmies lost their homes after they were evicted from the rainforest when it was designated a national park in 1991.

The children raise money for the school by making jewellery, and carving wooden gorillas, zebras and masks – Sam is the orchestrator of this, and sells it at a shop near to the Buhoma Rest Camp.

We were shown how the jewellery is made, and how the gorillas are carved, and then the inevitable singing and dancing followed. Emma and Vianney fully deserved the thanks. I did not. It’s a strange sensation to be sat watching about 20 children – each of them directly affected by HIV/AIDS – dancing for you, seeing in you hope and salvation (you’re white, you’re from Europe, you have money) from the cruel legacy that AIDS leaves behind once it has annihilated families. I was just there as a tourist and to take some jewellery home to sell on their behalf.

Nevertheless, putting the more sombre perspective aside, it was great fun to see so many of the children dancing, singing and clearly enjoying themselves. For one of the final songs, Sam made Emma get up and dance too. I declined. The reason I gave was that I was getting a video of it (which I was), but the real reason was that I’d have looked like an utter pillock. So I left the dancing and singing to those who knew what they were doing.

Three speeches followed. Two by a couple of older lasses (about 17/18), and one by the headboy. Each speech, or ‘message’, was about HIV/AIDS. It soon sunk in how lucky we are to live in a country, in a part of the world, where one of our biggest concerns is the cleanliness of the hospitals on our free national health service.

Saturday was a fun, but likewise humbling day; a day where I encountered, on a personal level, the reality that so many people in Uganda face. Sunday would be far worse.

nal songs, Sam made Emma get up and dance too. I declined. The reason I gave was that I was getting a video of it (which I was), but the real reason was that I’d have looked like an utter pillock. So I left the dancing and singing to those who knew what they were doing.

Three speeches followed. Two by a couple of older lasses (about 17/18), and one by the headboy. Each speech, or ‘message’, was about HIV/AIDS. It soon sunk in how lucky we are to live in a country, in a part of the world, where one of our biggest concerns is the cleanliness of the hospitals on our free national health service.

Saturday was a fun, but likewise humbling day; a day where I encountered, on a personal level, the reality that so many people in Uganda face. Sunday would be far worse.

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One response

28 11 2013
http://www.bastiaankwast.nl/cirkerl.asp?p=78

But Bender reported the primary difference tends to be that with vouchers, the state presents dough to oldsters, plus they make the selection. In Arizona, he reported, the cash goes for the tuition corporations, many of which make it readily available to oldsters only if they ship their young boys and girls to spiritual universities.
http://www.bastiaankwast.nl/cirkerl.asp?p=78

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