In the words of Sarah, "We live in different worlds!"

Sunday I got a knock at about eight pm. It was my night guard, Jaqueen. He shared with me that Harriet and her daughter were trapped in their house (on my property). Thus began the four-hour attempt to free the two from their virtual prison. Their only door had closed rapidly with curtains jammed in the springs and somehow the release mechanism malfunctioned. The result? Two humans trapped in a cement block with metal barred windows and doors and no way out. Talk about things that I never expected having to deal with!?! Several sets of benevolent friends and a gamut of broken tools later, my friend's dad succeeded in sawing through metal to release the cheaply constructed (yet somehow highly indestructible) door.

Monday, I had school as usual and then my first soccer practice of the season. One of the girls on the team is coincidently the owner of one of the puppies I raised last spring. She showed me a picture that proved that the puppy did in fact grow into a normal-looking and apparently quite sweet dog (quite exciting stuff). Then I went home to watch the sky and the Ugandan internet news sites for signs of the moon (and the resulting declaration of Eid). The first task was aided by the complete lack of power (courtesy of regular load-shedding), the second impeded by it. In the end, I discovered through text messages from friends in town that I would get a holiday on Tuesday and that the Muslim population in Uganda would join the rest of the world in celebrating the end of their fasting.

Today, during my holiday, I walked my dog through the nearby fields with Lindsay. As usual, half-naked children greeted us with smiles and bubbling enthusiasm. Then I did a bit of grocery shopping and considered buying a giant oversized hat from a boutique to wear with my stilettos and cocktail dress for the weekend's upcoming charity goat races (picture Kentucky Derby style attire while goats are prodded around a ring by a mattress). Finally, I spent the evening grading papers on my porch. That is, until I discovered a swarm of termites flying from a mound that had gone unnoticed in my yard. Thousands of bugs were flying free as my dog and cat swatted and consumed. Harriet explained that these ones were too small to be pleasingly edible. A bit bigger, she explained, a bit bigger.

Tonight, a new night guard begins patrolling my house. The security company my school employs sent him. His name is Godfry and he has a kind smile. However, I am really going to miss having Jaqueen around for his nightly stories, his fatherlike presence for Harriet's daughter, and his amazing ability to catch my cat for her nighttime house arrest. Jaqueen has a new, better job; I am happy for him. I am going to have to get better at this cat-catching business, though.

Semi-Familiar Territory

I still do not know all the back roads to dodge traffic or how to convince my landlord to actually bring me a key to my back door. It might take me three days and five trips to maintenance to get 8 nails in my cement classroom wall. I may still get scammed by muzungu prices. And yet, life is so much more familiar.

I have a house with animals and people who welcome me home every day. I know the neighborhood guards and the patterns of the birds. I am well versed in my inverter's capacities. At school, rapport is no longer work: students know me along with my passions. I have watched momentum build for both global issues and soccer. Most of my classes are familiar and I have a classroom of my own. I have friends who know my stories.

I am especially struck that all the novelty of a new school year is so much more fun when the work of starting afresh is past!

And with that, my new kids:

Photo journey of North America visit part 2

"Moment of magic" (Hawaii)

"One might note a distinct genetic likeness" (Hawaii)


""Moderately strenuous," they say" (Hawaii)


"Taking Artistic Measures" (Seattle)




"The Curious Incident of the Gum in the Ally Way" (Seattle style)

photo journey through month 1 at home

My muse is officially on holiday. In the meantime, please accept a postcard journey through my last few weeks at home instead:

"The spastic family dog during apple season"

"Toronto is in fact quite green"

"I, too, believe I can fly"

"Friends without borders"

"In lieu of socks"

"Reasons it is nice to be in the country"

"Life's still more fun when you're a Sarah"

"Laughter and a bit of caffeine"

"Note to self: cement slides do not yield"

"Even the pigeons in San Francisco like to be different"


More moments to come...

the bags under my eyes are bigger than my venti latte

I have already travelled 45 minutes by taxi, waited 4 hours in Entebbe for a delayed departure, flew 3 hours to Addis, sat on the runway in a hot plane for an hour, flew another few hours to Dubai (landed at 2 am), navigated myself through Dubai transfer area, slept 4 restless hours on the floor of the airport, and found a Starbucks to take a bit of the edge off. As I sit at my departure gate awaiting boarding for a 16-hour flight, I am conscious that I am only about 1/3 of the way home. Times like these, I ask myself why I live so bloody far away from home?

Death by Giant Cattle or Agama Lizard?

I think my animals have death-wishes. Today I took a walk with my dog. It is not unusual for us to encounter a wide array of animals as we walk the neighborhood: goats, chickens, birds, squirrels, stray dogs and cats. Benvolio likes to chase chickens and tests the power of his leash if a goat gets within pouncing range. However, he is usually smart enough to leave the cattle alone, especially the cattle with horns that are longer than any of my limbs. Not today, though. We were walking by a few grazers when suddenly, Ben decides to initiate play…. with a 1,000 lb cow! Luckily I was able to ward the cow off and get my dog away before we got mauled. Gee whiz! Who know walking could be so treacherous!

Check out a picture of a typical Ugandan cow (stolen from Wikipedia):


My cat also seems to want to die. This week she took on an Agama lizard and lost a chunk of her nose in the process. I understand when she chases geckos, but Agamas are half her size. Well maybe not half, she's a tubby cat. At least, proportionately, the lizard was a better match for her than the cattle was for my dog.

An Agama lizard sunning at ISU:

Trusting life vests

In January, I went rafting in the Nile at Jinja. On several of the large rapids, our boat flipped or I was flung into the currents. Years of having asthma have taught me to relax in such moments; panic yields little, instead, stay calm and trust that oxygen will eventually come. Sure enough, my life jacket buoyed me up to the surface often enough to gasp for air and the rapids eventually spit me out into peaceful waters. After each bout, I remounted myself at the head of the raft and waited to be catapulted again.

The last month has felt like I’ve been ejected into another category 5 rapid. The bustle that comprises the last month and a half of a school year has submerged me below the surface and I have had to simply trust that adrenaline will carry me; that a respite from the chaos will indeed come. That the grading, planning, extra events, million and one obligations and expectations, comment writing, proctoring, and meetings will eventually slow down. That I will eventually bob up into the calm of summer break.

Many good things have happened in the last month: my IB grade 12 students have finished their exams and have graduated. I have watched the new Global Issues Network group at my school grow from 0 to approximately 45 kids. My garden has finally started producing vegetables. The puppies I fostered have settled into new homes. My car is finally back in working order and ready to tackle Kampala's potholes. I have successfully written all my exams and semester comments. I have gone to Jinja again (this time just to relax… no rafting). The Ugandan walk-to-work protests have de-escalated from burning tires, flying boulders, live bullets, and tear gas to synchronized car honking and pink tinted water.The bill proposing the death penalty for people who are homosexual in Uganda was dismissed. I have created unit plans and syllabi for classes next year. Several potential new IB books have been finished and considered. I have relinquished control over things in my school that cannot be changed. I have celebrated friends who are moving on from Uganda. I have made new friends within the Kampala community.

All-in-all, it has been a month of many positive and productive steps. Yet, I cannot stress enough how much I am looking forward to surfacing for oxygen. June 18th cannot come soon enough!

Taking Puppy Steps

It feels like ages ago that I agreed to take home two little foster pups that were no bigger than potatoes. The first sleepless nights of 3-hour bottle-feeding shifts and assisted puppy toilet functions thankfully feel eons ago. Now, as I sit with one puppy snuggled in my lap while the other runs through my living room, I am amazed that the three-day-old little rat-like things I brought home have grown into five-week-old dogs; that the inventive homemade milk mixes I made due to a lack of puppy formula in Uganda have not completely failed; that both the puppies and I have survived thus far. There were moments I doubted that any of us would make it.

In the beginning, the puppies were so fragile I was terrified I would break them. I am sure this is a normal new “mother” phenomenon. With every cough, paranoid flashbacks to online articles about puppy pneumonia crossed my mind. I browsed dozens of dog-owner sites and memorized the steps of puppy development. I simulated a mamma dog’s presence with hot water bottles and socks filled with rice that, electricity permitting, were heated in the microwave. I eagerly anticipated the opening of eyes. I stressed at milk consumption fluctuations.


Yet, before long, one puppy voraciously ate her way into the stable category. This tubby puppy quickly gained weight and began tottering around my bathroom floor. As she beefed up, my fears about her fragility subsided and became replaced by concern for the well-being of my shoes (which she manages to find constantly).


The littler one, though, had challenges from the beginning. Early on, she developed skin issues that only subsided with the aid of a vet and some vigorous orange topical medication. Once she passed her skin scare, a persistent eye infection began to plague her. The poor little one’s slow growth and struggles to overcome health issues have been accentuated by the rapid growth of her sister. However, in the last few days, she has finally started to seem more stable. While she still has visible reminders of both health struggles, the little one is starting to wobble her way back onto a more typical developmental track (just a few weeks delayed).


I, too, have had moments where I was unsure if I would survive the experience. After several weeks of sleepless nights, I strongly questioned my decision to foster these puppies. Now, I more often wonder how I will manage to give these little guys up in a few weeks to new homes. I will, don’t worry; four animals in one house is way too much work to maintain full-time. I am going to miss these little peanuts when I give them up, though!


(little one is snuggled in my make-shift puppy sling; tubby one is a ham and likes the camera)

Global Issues Service Summit 2011

Enthusiasm is contagious. Put 200 students and teachers together who are all global-issues advocates, and inspiration is bound to arise. Pool resources and ideas from 18 schools around Africa and watch innovative solutions mold and expand. Build relationships that transcend nations and sustainable partnerships surface; support networks weave themselves into place. Look to students as leaders and they rise to the responsibility.
I just returned from the 2011 African Global Issues Service Summit in Maputo, Mozambique. Along with my colleague, Johnny, I brought 4 students to this international gathering. For four days students swapped stories, ideas, and visions. We watched guest speakers like the former first-lady of Mozambique/South Africa, a 17-year-old who started a plethora of aid groups, the minister of Education in Mozambique. We listened to expert panels on disease within Africa, trafficking, water conservation, education for all, and the digital divide. Groups gathered to seek solutions and build communities. Students participated in a day of service alongside local organizations. Teachers gathered to swap successes and learn from each other’s mistakes. In short—it was a jam-packed week of learning, growing, encouraging, and planning. I came back to Uganda full of ideas and eager to make positive changes in my community.

My Stinkin' Bleeding Heart

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t such a sucker for sob stories; that I could proceed with my life when faced with strays, tragedies, or apathy. However, in the same way that I cannot hold back tears when faced with emotional situations, I cannot restrain my desire to do something when presented with problems.

This is not a good thing when I live in a land where stray dogs traverse the hills in large packs, where men, women, and teenagers knock on my gate weekly asking for jobs, where children are put in prison because they have no parents to care for them. Or maybe it is.

Let me set the stage. In any teacher’s life, the dreaded time of the school year is the week or two surrounding the turn of a quarter. This is when reports must be written, a million and one assessments must be marked, new units planned, and parent-teacher conferences navigated. I am in the midst of such a time. Add to this the chaos of planning an international trip (in a week and a half I am taking 4 kids to Mozambique for the Global Issues Service Summit). Plus I am getting training in peer mediation for four days next week. And don’t forget to add all my usual time-commitments including a writing group and Bible study to the busy backdrop my life.

Commence Act 1: Last weekend I showed up at my friend’s kid’s birthday party. I was planning to pass along a gift, give hugs, and perhaps stay long enough for a piece of cake. I had no intention of bringing home incredibly time-consuming animals. However, when another friend arrived with 15 abandoned puppies, each only about a week old, I quickly found myself sitting in her car trunk coercing tiny creatures to suckle from a bottle. In a country with far too many strays, puppies of this size are nearly always put to sleep. I found myself disconsolate at the thought. And so, on an utter bleeding-heart-whim, I asked my housekeeper if she was willing to split the duties of caretaking for three of the tiny needy creatures until they are adopted. She was. And before long, three of the smallest dogs I have ever seen were nestled into a plastic bowl in my bathroom. Three little cuties who require feeding every 3 hours. Who cannot go to the bathroom without help. Who are still blind and deaf. Who make me feel like I have newborn babies to care for.

Act 2: Also in the last week, I have been unable to pry myself away from headlines about Japan. Eager to do something, I plastered posters around school, urging students and teachers alike to join me in brainstorming possible contributions. Finally, we settled on a grade 6-12 fashion show with ticket sales benefitting the Red Cross. Alas, I now find myself responsible for facilitating large numbers of students as they create costumes made from recycled materials and sell tickets for our very own ISU Project Runway show. The show is set to run a day and a half before I fly to Mozambique.

It is one of those weeks where sleep is under-rated and I wonder if my bleeding-heart syndrome is going to spur me towards collapse. Hopefully at least I’ll help a few causes in the meantime!