Jasmine Decker Writes...

Wow! Day 8, Christmas Eve in Uganda, how amazing. I have to say, though, it was a strange experience to wake up on Christmas Eve to the sound of my mobile alarm, rather than my little brothers laughter and excitement as to the fact it is only one sleep until Santa! Although to wake up to the rain was a small home comfort that I was pleased to see and hear.

To our shock once again we woke at 8 for breakfast, to be on the road visiting families at 9. Of course we didn't leave until 10:45. But... It was worth it! The luxury breakfast of pancakes topped with sugar and nutella was cooked by our very own in house chef Mr Allan Johnston. Yummmmmyyy!!! After our daily drug fix, malorone ;),we were ready to go. (Oh, in the rain of course).

Back in our groups from day 3, Allan, Ross and I, we headed off, this time not to walk 500 miles through the wonderful landscape and heat of Hoima but through the cool air and town that made Kasambya. This led us to the tiny one room house on the corner. Two young girls, their grandmother, one mattress and a pile of wood; This was the contents of their house and all their possessions. The two girls, 14 and 15, are KISS kids and have been for a number of years. They have no money, no parents and not much to live off but these girls are amazing. A smile like you have never seen, a laugh that just touches your heart and a sense of kindness that makes you think, why? Why is it that these kids have so little but give so much? Why is it that we have so much but give so little?

A prayer and shake of the hand and we were gone. This time to a child, a young baby of 5 months old. He has no mother, no father, no brothers or sisters and the possibility of being mentally disabled. A woman with children of her own and no room for another has given him a home and somewhere to live. This small, gorgeous young boy has also been given the support of KISS, when his time comes his school fees will be paid and he will be given the support he needs from adults and kids who have been through a similar or the same situation. He is one of the lucky ones that has been given a chance.

Walking through the streets and alleys to our next visit there are children lying on the floor, playing in the mud, children following you, just to hold your hand, they have no idea who you are but all you have to do is smile and give them the time of day and they feel safe. They are with people who care and surely that's what they deserve. None of these children are KISS kids; what a difference we could make to their lives if they were...

Usually when you greet someone you ask how they are and in Kasambya everyone asks, they hold your hand and just want to know how you are. So walking to the next house I was prepared for the greeting. I wasn't expecting the greeting I received... “How is Joe?” Ermm... My name is Jasmine I was thinking but I smiled and said “Fine thank you. How are you?” but then the brain kicked in and I realised that, of course, she was talking about Joe Hewitson (a trustee who has visited a number of times). So the conversation went on to Hewitson and why he wasn't there and we were :) But she was more than happy to see us and we were delighted to answer her questions. The young man of the house who must have been 5 showed us his school folder, it was clear that he had been promoted to the higher class and this brought a big smile to his cheeky little face.

The final house we went to was the most cluttered. Full of material, cloth, thread and a sewing machine. The lady of the house made, altered and repaired clothing. Some of this material was truly fit for a princess but she would never have the chance to wear it herself! Just the pleasure of making it. She welcomed us into her home, introduced us to her family, the young girls both KISS kids, who we would be seeing later on in the carol concert. Without even asking we were given a cup of tea out the kindness of their hearts and a good old conversation. Talking about the different types of school we had in England and the difference between the schools here and back home. It was enlightening to see how they work. Back home we go up in classes here you only move up if you are performing well and are achieving higher than other children in the class. After a lot of explaining the final goodbye was said and we made are way back through the town to the base camp, Kate's House.

On arrival we were all questioned as to the level of our hunger and we were all feeling it. So Allan was pushed aside and Gemma took over and created some amazing deep fat fried chips! Oh yum! Just as the chips were ready we were invited to come and watch the choirs. So we took our seats under the big umbrella tree, which had a homely Grandpops feel about it and waited for the kids to start. Dressed in black and white the children walked onto the performing area and created a beautiful sound that just made you smile. All ages performed, some devoting a chorus to each of us, others stripping before running off the stage... Yeah! I have to say it was an experience. The cool breeze in the air and the kids laughing created a gorgeous atmosphere. It was inspirational!

This is when we departed ways for little rest but couldn't stay parted for too long and reunited for a wonderful meal of flavoured beef with spicy noodles cooked, once again, by Allan. The meat was a little tough but all else was good and we all cleaned the plates. After dinner was all cleared up all seven of us snuggled on the one bed in the one room I was sleeping in and Never Been Kissed went on. What a film!

Finally the film ended with a few of us asleep and others wide awake. So after a quick shake and burst of energy we all headed outside for the Christmas Eve party. Realising more soda was needed for us big kids a few of the team headed into the town, which yes was still open at 11. They returned to the wonderful sound of ABBA and our interpretation of Ugandan dancing, it wasn't pretty!

So the time came to see in Christmas Day... To the sound of me singing along to Dancing Queen Sorsha and I hugged and wished each other a very Merry Christmas. Neither of us let it show but I know I was thinking of home and the rest of the team probably were to, who wouldn't be? As time past we all said our good nights and headed our separate ways. As I lay there in bed the thought of my brothers putting out their stockings came to my mind and I couldn't help but wish I were there with them but as I rolled over I was brought back to the wonderful fact I was spending Christmas in Uganda and I couldn't help but smile and think how lucky I was!

Allan Johnston Writes....

Looks like it's my turn to write the blog. I think it's gonna be hard to beat the Patriotism of John, the time magazine literary skills of Ross or the sarcasm of Gemma. So I've decided to keep up the Ugandan tradition and punish you with some jokes. :)

Well, today started with a 6:20am rise for Ross and I to make confession with Fr. Godfrey (Legend) followed by 7 am Mass. It wasn't that hard to get up as I was still on a high from yesterdays Safari trip, still can't believe I saw giraffes, elephants, hippos, and a lion in the wild, and the crazy dreams from the Malaria tablets are starting to kick in!!! Also felt the wrath of the dreaded tetsi fly, but the swat team were all over it.

Mass was held in the Parish's beautiful cathedral and was carried out in Runyoro, the local language. The sun rose during the Mass and shone through the stained glass windows which was cool. There were about 70 parishioners there and it was astonishing to see how generous they were during the collection despite the poverty they find themselves in! They had a lot to offer! We were introduced to the congregation and got a wee round of applause.

After Mass, Ross and I joined Father with the headmaster of the local secondary school for breakfast. Father made us porridge, coffee, eggs and chicken, which was eggsellent. Apart from being offered a job, on the condition I start up the school knitting and cooking clubs, I had a very insightful conversation about the school (class sizes – 70 plus!!!!!, resources, pupils' attitudes to education). If only some people realised how privileged they were to have a free education in the conditions we have, Especially with the superb teachers at JHN!!!!!

Back down to the Millennium party palace to find all the other lazy sods still in bed, bar McShenouda who had woken up early to practice his Scottish accent. Collected some cash for a wee jaunt to town to pick up some water, juice and a present for Father. Also picked up a QUALI-T cowboy hat – I'm pulling off the Clint Eastwood look now although I've been told it's more like the Milky Bar Kid (maybe that's cos I'm strong and tough). Had a bit of banter with the locals about the Premiership, although my football songs seemed to confuse a couple of them but what's new?

Back at the base, everyone had finally started getting ready to say our sad goodbyes, packing the luggage into and ON TOP OF THE VAN! Guess who's stuff was first up!?! Cue the long journey looking over my shoulder to check they hadn't dropped off, not to worry though Martin was on the case :). We emptied our rooms and headed to our last breakfast, and my second of the day, at the Millennium. We had a talk with Father G and had a prayer and wee sing-song. Gave Father a framed photo of our awesome choir from a couple of days ago, we were AWESOME!!!!!

Off we set on our 4 hour journey to Kasambya, to try and find a piece of tarmac in Uganda, and it only took 3 hours 20 minutes! Honestly though my bum can't take any more of this :( Busted out the I-pod for some tunes to ease my pain, only to find I'd forgotten to charge it....Jasmine to the rescue though, with her collection of Steps and Westlife, what a tragedy! Should be band!! The drive was actually quite spectacular. One minute the scenery is reminding me of back home in Scotland, then I see 20 people trying to hitch a lift and mud huts the size of my bedroom with 8 people staying in it. Although every time my once white, now dusty brown, arm waves out of the window all I get is smiles, waves and chants of “MUZUNGU” (white person).

Finally caved in and booted up the mobile to check the internet, the bill is gonna be huge :(, happy to hear that Rage Against The Machine climbed their way to Christmas number 1!. Olly must be loving it! Our 3 Ugandan guests were obviously sick of my puns and we had to stop a few times. 'Twas all good and we were back on our way. As we branched off the main road and went deeper and deeper into the Ugandan rainforest it became clear that us Muzungus where a rarity! The looks we were getting were priceless!

We stopped at Mubende, the nearest big town to Kasambya, about 40 minutes away from the Kiss office to collect Kate's Christmas parcels. She got a brilliant Terry Wogan t-shirt, what Vision {editor - i'm told this is a pun about Eurovision - took a while...] her friends must have. John managed to barter with a shopkeeper for a football shirt, he was well chuffed with himself.

Arriving at Kasambya was amazing, if only for the fact that the last leg of the journey was not roller-coaster like! The children had lined the streets to welcome us with waves, songs and dancing!

It's been a long week and the tiredness had started to kick in, but this welcome gave me a little boost and helped me through the next hour. We were introduced to our hosts and went up to our new lodgings.

Upon seeing our new rooms, we realised how lucky we were, even in Hoima. Its John and I sharing this time, Marty and Ross, and Sorsha and Gemma. Jasmine is down at Kate's place, which although is quite similar in terms of amenities, has a major homely feel about it. No shower at our new place, buckets of water will suffice. Obviously the old hole in the ground as a toilet was both as much a novelty as it was frightening. There are two toilets and apparently one of them is designated girls only because they don't trust our aim! [puns censored].

As we settled down and unpacked our cases, there were mixed emotions. I think that we are still feeling a bit down about having to leave Hoima so soon after building up such amazing relationships with the wonderful people there. Hopefully we will build the same strong links with our new friends here.

One of the main positives about Kasambya so far is that our cooking is now up to us, I'm in my element. We went up to the market and bought ingredients for the next few days, cant wait to get in amongst it. The market was a weird experience, EVERY set of eyes in the place was on us. The grumpiness had started to kick in and it all became a bit too much, for me anyway, I needed my nap!

Went back to the digs and had a lie down, only to find there was a cricket sharing my bed!!! I was bowled over! Woke me up anyway. We all got washed and went down to Kate's to watch Cool Runnings, where my puns were starting to get an icy reception, while some people finished their diaries. It was good to chill out for a bit and really helped everyone de-stress and collect their thoughts.

It had been a long day and we headed back up the road looking at the amazing sky and I don't think I've ever seen the stars look like that in the UK, Bit of time to reflect on the last few days and look forward to stage 2 before a well deserved sleep, I don't think anyone had trouble sleeping anyway.

Sorsha Roberts Writes...

We all began our day by lying outside in the dark, waiting for our taxi to arrive for 5am. It didn't come, and this was understandably frustrating, as we were supposed to be heading to Murchison falls Safari park. Father Godfrey spent the morning attempting to call the taxi, who ignored the call 5 times before turning his phone off completely. Jasmine, Allan and Gemma took the opportunity to get some sleep, whilst the rest of us wrote our diaries and played Frisbee and some of the KISS kids and their parents waited patiently, obviously used to the relaxed African attitude to time keeping. An alternative taxi was found, however the driver said he couldn't come until it had been serviced! Fr Godfrey and Julius eventually decided to drive to the taxi yard themselves, and by 7.30am we were all getting into what looked like a rather luxurious taxi, with comfy seats, and even some seatbelts. This misconception of luxury was short-lived.

As we began to drive we soon noticed the road quality wasn't as smooth as previous journeys. In fact there were more pot holes than road. The intense shaking resulted in the leakage of several juice cartons we had with us, but luckily the taxi came with a built in drainage system – the convenient holes in the floor. We travelled for what felt like hours before we arrived at the first entrance to the falls, all the way being attacked by flies. We did stop once to pick up food, and discovered a very unique service being offered in the area. A large sign stood next to the road, reading 'Nazi Barber Salon and Phone Charging.' Clearly we were all desperate to try out this amazing opportunity, but time was pressing, and we were forced to tear ourselves away. As we neared Murchison falls we got our first sighting of baboons, and threw mangos to them out of the window.

An entrance gate traditionally sits fairly near to the actual attraction. The Murchison falls park has decided to stray from this rather old fashioned practice. After passing the entrance we drove for hours before we arrived at the falls themselves. With slightly bruised bums from the bumpy ride, we trekked up to the top of the waterfall. It was so worth it! The view was incredible and the water was impressively powerful as it gushed downwards, framed by a large rainbow. Gemma and I stood there, commenting on the geographical formation of the waterfall. Miss Forde would be proud!

Soon we had to drag ourselves back into the minibus for another bumpy, dusty drive lasting forever. We arrived next to the Nile to find wild boars grazing next to the toilets. Our initial plan was to take a boat trip up the Nile, but after that was thwarted, we decided we wanted to go on Safari. Whilst Kate and Fr Godfrey were being rung to ask permission, we ate lunch. The plain chapatis were saved by my stock of honey and thoroughly melted chocolate bars, and so lunch was enjoyed by all. Except Allan and Ross, who both bumped their head on the wooden shelter several times.

While we waited we also saw an elephant walking about on the opposite bank of the river, saw several lizards, and made friends with some German guys. Jasmine had some fun convincing them she was Australian, which actually worked quite well despite her fluctuating accent. Eventually we got permission to go on Safari, so our battered taxi trundled onto the ferry that would take us across. On the way over we saw a hippo bobbing up occasionally from the water, and many more bathing near the opposite bank. Crossing the Nile was pretty surreal – the landscape is just too incredible to take in.

Searching for a guide on the other side was our next challenge, and this was undertaken by Julius, who eventually found George. He was somewhat of a legend. Driving through the savannah in a rickety taxi with an armed man in the front has to be one of the most amusing things I have ever done, but as tiredness hit us it began not to seem all that fun. For about half an hour all we saw were a few deer, antelope and buffalo, as well as some bush fires created to stop poachers, and encourage plant regrowth. I did get a bit overexcited about seeing some vultures, but nobody else seemed to share my enthusiasm. It was the first sighting of a giraffe that really woke everyone up, and the excitement was incredible. Everyone was totally satisfied that we hadn't had a wasted journey, and around the next corner we discovered an entire herd of giraffes. One giraffe actually galloped across the road in front of us, and another seemed fascinated as the taxi began to beep loudly, kindly warning it that the vehicle was reversing. After this, our luck didn't run out. George actually allowed us to get out of the taxi to stand closer to a lake full of Hippos, wading birds, and one solitary crocodile poking it's nose above the water. After this we were allowed out again to stand in front of a whole herd of elephants. George's idea of time was as inaccurate as all other Ugandans, saying we were allowed out for ten minutes, but ushering us back in the van after just two. The one thing we really wanted to see was a lion, so we asked George if we would, and he replied that he hadn't seen one all morning, so we would definitely not see one that day.

He was wrong! The next corner we turned, a lioness was spotted sitting under the shade of a tree. The taxi drove right up towards it, and forgetting all fears I stuck my arm completely out of the window to take a picture. That sighting definitely made the stressful journey completely worth it for everyone, and on the rush back to catch the 5pm ferry, we all began singing songs, making up our own verses to 'Hoima for Jesus today.' George loved it, and requested another song when we got back, so we performed our renowned composition of 'Jesus Christ was Born Today.' The singing mood carried on back across the Nile (which I am proud to say I have put my hand in) and lasted pretty much all the way home, with very inventive verses of 'Because I Got High' being belted out as our crazy driver careered madly around tight corners. He eventually parked on the edge of a cliff...where we got out to see an incredible view of the final light fading over a huge expanse of flat plains below us. It was unbelievable – the expanse of land was actually difficult to comprehend.

Our last day in Hoima was completely incredible. I think the difficulties of our journey just enhanced the positive experiences of the day, allowing us to appreciate them far more than we would have otherwise. This applies to the experiences in Uganda as a whole on this trip. Yes, it can be difficult seeing the poverty and illness of some people, but the joy that KISS brings is appreciated all the more, and my experience of life in Uganda will inevitably change how I live my own life.

Martin Gardner Writes....

O my gosh what a day! Ross has taken forever with the blog and Gemma has taken 20 minutes .... He is such a perfectionist that Ross! But finally here is my attempt at day 5!

The day started off with breakfast and the usual omelette (I had one at a family's house earlier in the week and it tasted a bit dodgy – this one wasn't much different!) We waited for Father Godfrey to come to collect us so that we could go to look out over Uganda at the amazing views that it has to offer from a mountain in Homia. But not everything is plain gravy and that is particularly true in Uganda! Africa has a rather different concept of time than we do! Father Godfrey arrived about an hour late and still had to go and sort out bits for the party later. While we waited for him, we decided that we wouldn't go to the mountain as we wanted to spend more time with the kids as it was our second to last day in Homia, and the time we would have with them would be invaluable to us. Father Godfrey eventually arrived and took us to the parish where the kids were slowly arriving in dribs and drabs. We split off to play sport - the girls went to play netball and the boys to play football.

I decided to go with Father Godfrey and collect a group of kids who live about 5km from where the party was at. On our way there, I noticed we were in a car that didn't work quite so well – there was no speedometer, or temperature gauge and the petrol gauge didn't work at all. I asked him how he knew when he would run out out of petrol and he said it was a game of guessing - this filled me full of confidence that we were going to make it back to the parish! As we went through the town of Homia, Father pointed out several landmarks. The King's house was one particular landmarked that really stood out. It was a fantastic building that was literally built for a king. As I took a picture to show the others what the house looked like, a guard came out of no where and seemed to be wanting something. I had never been so scared - mainly because they were talking in a totally different language and I didn't know what was going on!

When travelling through the different villages on the way to collect the kids it was amazing just to see how people lived. The way of life is such a contrast compared to the life in England. As we went through one of the many villages I saw kids with no clothes and people with no shoes. It has started to make me appreciate what I have been given, what I have and what I can get. We pulled into the church to collect the kids – Father hooted his horn and all the kids piled in. Once all the kids were loaded into the back of the pick-up truck off we went, travelling back through all the villages that had been past already. The children were singing their hearts out in the back of the truck - it sounded like the sound of angels. It was amazing to hear their voices – they were in such high spirits. It was incredible to witness as they didn't have much but they are obviously so rich in other ways.

It was amazing to see when I got back to the party that all the KISS kids had turned up – it looked like there were thousands of them, all with their voices in high spirit. They were in a massive Xaverian square formation which I had never seen the likes of before (the Xaverians are a kind of catholic scouting movement). They even managed to squeeze a line about Scotland into one of their songs – Allan would have felt left out without it!

After all the fun and excitement of the square formation it was on to the really good part of the games. They were bizarrely done!! Games included a penalty shoot out with points being scored according to which sticks the ball passed between and a relay race in which you had to fill your mouth with water and spit it into a bottle at the other end of the track!

We sat to have a drink and a chat and I met a 5 year old girl who we met the previous day - she was loving being with me! She was so adorable and everyone loved her. She was so attached to me and wanted to do everything with me. It just gave me a little taster of missing home that little bit more as she reminded me so much of my little niece back in England.

The day was coming to a close – there was just one more item on the party agenda – the kids performed a show for us in a spectacular fashion – it was just mesmerising! They literally gave it everything and even Simon Cowell would have been happy. They performed several dances and sang loads of songs - but we felt the favour had to be returned! We decided to dress up in traditional Ugandan dancing attire – grass skirts and shakers strapped to our legs – and gave it a full on traditional Bunyoro dance! The crowd loved it! Father Godfrey then thanked us all for coming to Hoima and for all that KISS does for the community. He presented us with a plaque to take back to John Henry Newman as a special appreciation for all the school does for KISS. Then it was time to leave... We were sad to say goodbye to everyone we had got to know so well... They are no longer people we happen to sponsor – they are our true brothers and sister in Uganda.

Gemma Hennessey Writes...

After Ross getting the word 'blog' confused with 'novel' and spending 3 days writing, rewriting, spell-checking and lengthening his masterpiece, today is the first opportunity I have had to write about day 4 in Hoima. He did redeem himself (along with the Sonny + Cher duo of Allan and Sorsha) late on the night of day 3 by writing an epic of a Christmas carol - adapting 'Santa Claus is coming to town' into 'Jesus Christ was born today'. This masterpiece, which I hear is now hotly tipped for Ugandan Christmas number 1, was to be performed later in the day.

Breakfast went as per usual with a few ants taking a bath in my coffee - but if I thought that the caffeine would wake me up, I was in for a surprise. For those of you reading , who are not accustomed to the Ugandan public transport system, it is better than any cup of coffee! Costing just 15p, Alton Towers can eat their heart out – our journey to Sunday Mass was the most fun ride ever!

Mass was outside led by the ever-inspiring Father Godfrey (who works for KISS) and parishioners congregated in 3 hastily erected marquees. In true Ugandan style, mass began 1 hour and a half after it was scheduled but was spiced up by a reading from Allan (I'm unsure how much the locals followed the thick Scottish accent), and me, Ross and John doing the offertory procession. Mass was good with a Father G homily and the cathedral choir singing.

Mass was soon followed by a choir competition which not only involved Uganda's best choirs, but representing the UK... us. What a delight for the many hundreds who had gathered – all the Hoima KISS kids were there too. We beautifully sang Away in a Manger (we sounded like angels) , coming a respectable 3rd place much to the shame of those 40-person-strong choirs who placed below us. The best was yet to come however with 'Jesus Christ was born today' proving to be a crowd pleaser and placing us 3rd yet again. Our talents were of such a high quality that we had media interest from all corners of Uganda - and BTV (Hoima's premier TV channel) bagged the exclusive footage and showed us on TV later that day!

The other choirs dragged on somewhat. Luckily for us, we had 100 amazing, excitable kids to entertain us. We had an absolute ball - apparently my hair was a thing of wonder and it was stroked, plaited and pulled out by several cheeky young ladies. None of our laps were ever without at least 1 child and it was so good playing with the kids even if the only English they spoke was 'I'm fine'. Allan, Martin and Sorsha went and brought some comedy tartan hats which you'll probably see featuring in the vast majority of our pictures for the rest of the trip. After a late lunch most of us went back to Millenium, meeting the village drunk who referred to Martin as his 'wife', on the way. Meanwhile, John, Ross and Allan went to watch a football match. A game of Monopoly and an early-ish night followed.

I really am having the time of my life here, Hoima is amazing and i cant wait to experience Kasambya as well. Batters has made the trip completely stress free and i cant think of a better place to spend christmas.

Ross Kempsell Writes....

Kate Writes: I'm back in Uganda and I've got the JHN 6th formers with me - i've handed control of my blog over to them for the next 2 weeks - enjoy!

Ross Writes: It's 8.00 AM in Hoima and the Ugandan sun's already strong. Waking up under a mosquito net is still a novelty and for a brief moment its sinister shadow almost scares me. After eggs on toast we're away as promptly as possible to conduct a series of family visits: split up into small groups we begin on foot towards the households of families which KISS supports financially, or with whom it has particular connection. A few of us head towards the African sprawl of central Hoima town, the others, myself included, begin the trek uphill into the thick of the greenery which extends for miles around, truly as far as the eye can see. During our ascent we spot three nuns hitching a lift on the back of a Toyota pick-up (a vehicle ubiquitous in this part of the world), their habits gently fluttering in the warm breeze.

In the shadow of the hills we meet our guides. Giles and Chris are both KISS kids, now grown up. Everyone is introduced to one another, and our friends warn us of the long walk ahead. Giles tells us that first of all we're on our way to Laura's house, and careful to keep my footing on the dust track, I'm eager to talk to him further – we soon strike up a good rapport. Aware that this is my first chance at one-on-one conversation with a direct recipient of KISS support, I ask him about his life so far, and what his hopes are for the future. Giles goes to art school in Kampala. He discovered his talent for painting, drawing and sculpture whilst very young and has since been in love with creating things of true beauty, albeit by making the best use of the bare minimum of materials. Giles produces his work as often as his time allows and he's not short of inspiration amid the East African landscapes. And on the undulating side of a sun-baked hill, we talk about the still life tradition, Cezanne, Monet, and what it's like to visit the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square: and we're having a good laugh. For a second this is all utterly surreal. But I've already noticed that it's precisely this kind of local connection and highly personal engagement with the community which sets KISS apart, and makes it so effective in its work.

Crossing the brow of the hill, we see Laura's house. It's built from mud brick, with spaces for doors and shutters rather than windows – and it appears deserted. We wonder if there has been a miscommunication or a misunderstanding prior to our visit – nobody's home. About to move on, Anna, a girl of perhaps 16, appears reluctantly at the door and beckons us inside. Having western visitors is not easy. We're welcomed by her grandmother – Giles kindly translates from Runyoro, the local dialect. Whilst sharing embraces and high fives with the kids assembled in the entrance room, she begins to thank us so sincerely that I catch myself feeling quite awkward. She is dressed in traditional clothing. And soon we notice that her gesticulations and movements are always seemingly off-target: cataracts. A long pause in conversation allows a moment to know that inside this house, I'm realising my first experience of the reality of poverty. I look about me. There is one wooden chair, some hard wooden slats for beds, a tiny table, a hand-out mosquito net and literally nothing else. Nothing else in the entire house. The interior walls only reach half-way up the height of the outside ones; the corrugated roof is terracotta red with rust. The rooms are bare. A family of five live in this place, sharing the total floor space of perhaps quarter the size of a tennis court. Out back there is a patch of dusty earth, and then, beyond a few piles of rubbish and litter, nothing but the bush. And that is every single day of this family's life.

Approaching the midday, the sun and heat are most intense. I've drained my supply of bottled water a few hours earlier, so we stop by the wayside to purchase some mango juice, available at the impromptu trading posts which spring up at regular intervals. We visit Giles' family for a humbling lunch of Matoke (ground banana), potatoes, rice and stewed goat. The food is nothing less than delicious, being as it is so fresh and the very definition of organic. But the circumstances in which it is consumed are more than upsetting. Moving on to see Chris' family, we walk several miles. Meeting his mother, brother, and extended relatives, we receive another extensive and moving welcome. After talk of mutual friends from KISS in England, football, daily life, and God, we're outside into a small courtyard to meet the pigs and chickens. At this point I have to sit down and rest in the dust with the flies. Leaning against the mud bricks, a girl of about five, Sarah, confidently sits on my lap. I haven't realised she's been following me around since we arrived. Somewhere the sound-scape makes it obvious that Chris is chopping sugar cane with a machete: thwack, thwack, thwack. Sarah is fascinated with the hair on my arms – a seemingly new concept. She roughly pulls at the strands on the back of my hands and laughs hilariously at my melodramatic response. The sun's on our faces and I notice that her clothes are ragged. In fact, she really is dressed in rags. And the laughter stops as she whoops a fit of surprisingly deep and crackly coughs that can only be the inevitable manifestation of some underlying condition. She buries her head into my shoulder, caught somewhere between tears and joy.

In the evening, the group of us are all back together for a visit to another house. Accompanied by the tireless Fr Godfery, the curate of Hoima cathedral (and employee of KISS), it's a bumpy and exhilarating ride out to her place. The local children have assembled to welcome us, and this very rural setting is alive with their shouting, singing and waving. The house is again in a state of extreme poverty. We crowd inside. In the back room a frail woman is perched on the edge of an old mattress. Sophie. A diabetic with a wholly unreliable and insecure supply of insulin, she suffers the complications of her illness, recently having had awful lung problems. Diabetes has also sent her totally blind. Fr Godfery tells us that the first time KISS came into contact with Sophie, he took Kate to see her at 10PM one night, and together they resolved that the situation was so dire that immediate action must be taken. Having received emergency treatment in Kampala, Sophie has since been supported by KISS. Fr Godfery talks to her in Runyoro, explaining what she would be seeing if she could. I find witnessing this act of love especially intense. And as our time with Sophie draws to a close, Fr Godfery asks her if there's anything at all that we can change. She pauses to think for a moment. “Yes”, she says, “I'm sick of beans for dinner”. And her face breaks into a wide smile, and we laugh despite the pain. Just how strong do you have to be to be able to do that?

I wander back out into the front room as I can feel my pulse throbbing on the side of my head. I sit on the floor. A woman whom I hadn't noticed previously appears next to me and hands me a baby boy wrapped in swaddling clothes. Communicating by counting on fingers, his mother tells me he is 4 weeks old. Baby Brian is fast and soundly asleep, dribbling a little, but otherwise a perfect picture of peace. And then it's time to leave – the kids follow the truck for a while before fading away into the distance. Behind their smiling eyes, everywhere you turn in Hoima there is a story of suffering. Cradling baby Brian I am endlessly reminded of the utter insignificance of my own consumer-driven gripes, the difficulties and harsh realities of divine providence, and the heartbreaking iniquity of the world. And at that I'm overcome with a quiet wave of anger more than anything else. Yet at the same time, I know that it's either this suffering, this dusty room, Sophie's own private hell, with KISS - or exactly the same situation without any love at all.

John Shenouda Writes....

Kate Writes: I'm back in Uganda and I've got the JHN 6th formers with me - i've handed control of my blog over to them for the next 2 weeks - enjoy!

Thursday 17/12/09 - Airport and journey

Up at 4.30AM to shave (not my legs, clearly) and got to JHN on a very frosty morning. Others arrived for a last minute squeeze of KISS tshirts into our bags. We hugged parents and off we went- the 8 of us- in the minibus driven by St John Gannon.

We checked in at terminal 5 after switching items from one bag to another cos people were overweight! (not them, their luggage, silly :p) Pictures in Christmas hats proved fun... mine had plaits! Jasmine and Sorsha got searched rather thoroughly; thank god I didnt get searched- they wouldnt have been able to keep their hands off me! First time in new Heathrow terminal 5 and it was beautiful ! They even have Harrods there! Full (vegetarian) English Breakfast and beat Ross 1-0 on Fifa 10 (first time ever on PS3!)

Sat next to Sorsha on the plane and watched the amazing view out of the window throughout.
Mine and Sorsha's plan of monopoly on the plane went straight out the window, when we saw a wide variety of films and tv shows. Got through 2 C4 solomon papers (very badly) and marked whilst listening to... BACKSTREET BOYS! Tried watching Harry Potter but fell asleep after 10 minutes before being ambushed but Jasmine's loud laughing/screaming.

Landed in one piece. Got out of the airport to see Kate embraced by Father Godfrey - he was so happy to see her. He embraced us all one by one and was over the moon when he saw our kiss hoodies. Still couldn't believe it, after 7 short years at JHN, my childhood dream became a reality.

From Entebbe to Kampala spirits were high and we sung songs and played games. When we finally parked after 3 tries, we cheerfully noticed a very tall man with a very large shotgun in his right hand who told us to get out of the vehicle.... Ross had other plans! Then we met Ronald – a highly skilled master of Scottish accents; something I have yet to master!

While waiting at a roundabout, a young girl approached begging. Then seconds later, we were silenced by the the site of two thin young boys sleeping on the road. We had forgotten the reality of the whole situation – we were in a third world county and this was the norm. No one stopped for them; not even us.

We arrived at Red Chilli, ate our pizza and pulled the curtains on our first day. Having noticed two huge holes in the mosquito net over my bed, I had a scary night ahead of me...I sweated like MAD – long sleeves & sleeping bag = SWEAT...LOTS! People were walking in and out as they wish all night: it was a restless night but it added to the experience! Just another day in Uganda. And that was meant to be good accommodation... :-p


Friday 18/12/09 – Hoima here we come!

The showers were the first surprise of the morning - there was even hot water (although I had to kill a few bugs on my way in). Then... wait for it... BEANS ON TOAST FOR BREAKFAST!

Next we were off with Father G to exchange money - we became Ugandan millionaires! Once again, kids were laying by the road with nothing; not even dignity left yet once more, we all drive past. Pictures do not do justice to what I saw.

The competition to see who gets waved at the most heated up when I got a “RESPECT” from one of the van drives on the road. Allan had the time of his life waving at everyone as if he was the Queen.

I learnt my first words in Luganda: Weebale nnyo, means thank you very much and Muzungo, means white person (not that anyone said that to me... I am African... I fit right in :p!)

We take so much for granted. Went to do a wizz and when I was done I saw a man emptying out all the sewage... some of which probably will end up on the streets someday as we saw.

This could explain how I met my new arch-nemesis: The Dragon Fly - they're enormous!
Seems like no ones got bitten yet. The news of a snow day at JHN made us slightly jealous but all that changed when the sun came out in all its glory.

Looking out of the front windscreen in the van I noticed a huge crack across it; I wonder how we would have so ungratefully solved that back at home. “Autoglass Repair, Autogass Replace.” We then went to pick up 3 KISS kids, whose story is indescribable – here it is:

Two mothers, one died giving birth to the youngest child of this family and the second is a stepmother who lives in another house. The youngest child died in a car crash. KISS took the other three kids on board but dad often makes them stay at home to look after the cow instead of going to school. Jameo, Medi and Kisito; I couldn't wait to meet them...

I love them! The fact that they couldn't speak English was beautiful – I could only show them love by actions, not words. They have so little yet they bombarded us with passion fruits and a mango as presents. They were amazing! In return we fed them all the junk we had stocked up on in Kampala... and Kisito puked three times in the van. We cleaned him, gave him new clothes and continued on our journey.

Kisito then sat next to me (riding shotgun in the minibus) on Fr G's lap, where I realised that Father Godfrey is not called “Father” for no reason. This is where I want to be; this is what I want to do. Living Christianity as we're supposed to.

Jameo was then also sick. AJ things she was jealous of her brother's new clothes and wanted in! We gave sweets to some of the kids watching outside and they thought Christmas had come early. Onward we went on our eternal journey to Hoima.

Jesus went onto Jerusalem riding on a donkey. We entered Hoima in a Toyota minibus – and got the same reception. We got to our new home for the next few days. I'm pretty sure we walked straight into paradise. After settling down and busting out a game of ULTIMATE frisby, the shower was an experience! I soaped up and poured a bucket of cold water over my head. WHAT A FEELING! Fish and chips for dinner – best fish i've ever had! Then an evening reflection and looking at all our pictures brought an end to a beautiful day.

Spaghetti A La Kasambya

I've got Ronan here with me this week which is GREAT. (Aside from the fact he lugged a lot of Dolmio Sauce, Spaghetti Hoops, Pickled Onion Monster Munch and lots of Chocolate half way round the world for me, he's good company!) Having him here has given me a a different perspective on things - and it has made it very easy to see that KISS has a lot to be proud of out here at the moment!

Lovina (who is my next door neighbour and one of our older KISS members) spends a lot of time helping me out. Last night she came to cook spaghetti for Ronan and I.

"I decided to put EVERYTHING in it tonight!" She declared with a grin as she dished it up.

"Everything?!" I cautiously enquired, trying to disguise my alarm.

"Yes, all of the spices!" she replied.

Unsure whether or not it would be wise to investigate, my curiosity got the better of me and i glanced up towards the gas stove. There, in a tidy line, were the various pots of 'flavour' which i chuck into various things... Garlic powder, piri piri chicken spice, Cajun spice, Cinnamon and mixed tea herbs, black pepper and salt. There they were on the table. And here they were, in one UNIQUE blend, in my spaghetti. Hilarious. Thankfully Lovina appreciated the hilarity of the situation... Tonight's spaghetti was limited to just one flavour.

Don't Eat Me!

I was rudely awoken from a nap this afternoon (it was well deserved, honest) by a small girl screaming "No, please don't eat me! Here, have my shoes." Somewhat alarmed I lept, bleary eyed, from my bed and yanked the door open. Sure enough, the girl was stood there, handing her shoes over to her attacker. She can't have been more than around 8 years old. "RAAAAHHHH," screamed the attacker "I still want to eat you!" "No, no, please don't eat me! Here, have my dress..." She yanked her dress off and duly handed it over before running and hiding behind a tree. The audience applauded. Apparently it was a rehearsal for a play about what happens if you don't go straight home from school. The things that happen outside my room these days...

Mass was a fun experience this morning. The priests here are on a rota - an African rota - which means that you can never predict which one you're gonna get. This morning a new priest walked in. The girl next to me said "Oh, the people love this priest - he is a great preacher!" I knew that could only be a bad thing for someone who doesn't speak Luganda particularly well... good preaching was bound to mean long preaching... And sure enough, during the course of his sermon he managed to sing three excessively long hymns and a verse of Bob Dylan's "Blowin' In The Wind." It WAS lengthy - but at least it was musical.

We've had a great weekend with the kids here in Kasambya. Saturdays are our 'fun and games' days. Yesterday the young ones learnt a game which i can only liken to a kind of Ugandan crowd surfing... while the older ones learnt an array of new songs. I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to teach them "Rise and Shine." Much to my great amusement, the teenage boys who i thought would curl up and die from embarrassment, LOVED it. One of them came to me at the end of the afternoon and asked to talk to me. When this happens it usually means that they have a problem at school or they need something... I was tired and, to be very honest, not really relishing the idea of having such a conversation. But, to my great delight, he said "Kate, I have forgotten the words to the song. Can we please sing it again?" Sure enough, we were joined by six other BIG strapping teenage lads and, together, we sang another three verses and four choruses of Rise and Shine... WITH ACTIONS. I will treasure that moment for many years to come!

Have a friend coming out to visit for a week on Thursday - can't WAIT to see him - sometimes you just REALLY need someone who will understand why you find it funny that a man would try to tie a bed, a pig, three chickens and a fridge to the back of a bike.

Unapologetic Plea for Assistance!

This week a 13 year old girl came to our office in Kasambya with her two younger sisters and her grandmother. All three of the girls are orphans and they had come in the hope that we might be able to help them to pay their school fees. Two of them had been able to go to school this term, but they had failed to find the extra £1.60 to enable the third to go back to class. When I asked them how the older two had managed to find the money, the eldest explained that she goes to work on somebody's land every Saturday - earning 50p for a day's work. She does this every weekend and saves enough throughout the term for her fees and a few books and pens. Going to work on some one's land is no walk in the park - it is backbreaking work in unforgiving sunshine, often without food or drink from sun rise to sun set. She's thirteen. THIRTEEN!

The nature of KISS means that we are always going to come face to face with unimaginable hardship. But, every now and then, something hits you particularly hard, and this was one such case. She looks so young - but her strength and determination struck me like a sword to the heart. She came today for our Xaverian prayer meeting - she was jumping about and singing as though she didn't have a care in the world - which is exactly why we have such a huge emphasis on pastoral outreach - we might not be able to offer financial assistance - but we can offer a smile or two.

There will always be more financial need than KISS will ever be able to meet. And we are always going to have to say no to people. But, at the same time, there is always more that can be done - and this is my unapologetic plea to you now - please help KISS to do more! We have recently launched a new website which will tell you a lot more about what KISS does - and, once you've had a look around, please do consider helping us out in whichever way you can - financially, prayerfully, practically or all of the above! www.kiddiessupportscheme.org Thank you!!!

Just too foreign...

Eeee, it's been a long time! Have just returned to Kasambya after six weeks away in Sorotti and Hoima. Time in Hoima has been good – it's great to see KISS looking so healthy there. The two main focuses of my time in Uganda are formation of our team of employees and working at strengthening our pastoral provision – and it was very encouraging to see both of those things coming on in leaps and bounds in Hoima. The time that Asaba spends with the kids after school is so precious and such a rare find in Uganda – it's a time when the kids can come and just be kids – a place where they are so valued and where they can really flourish and be themselves. We have a group of four nine year old girls there who declared that they had composed a song. Expecting something which sounded like it had been composed by a group of nine year olds, we were absolutely astonished when we heard what actually came out of their mouths! Moments like that make me so so determined to support the team here to provide more and more opportunities like that for these kids to come and discover something of who they are and what they can achieve. Just fab!

I had an interesting experience last week at Luzira, Uganda's high security prison. Luzira has an alarming reputation of horrendous conditions and extreme ill-treatment of prisoners. The prison is situated in the most unnervingly ironic setting I have ever experienced; the various buildings of the prison are set within a well kept, luscious green compound with a stunning view over Lake Victoria. If it weren't for the air of eerie silence and the feeling of suffering that hung in the air and on the faces of those lucky enough to leave the walls of the prison, I would almost be inclined to describe the place as beautiful. Unsurprisingly, it was a struggle to get into the prison. There was checkpoint after checkpoint manned by guards of varying levels of authority and consciousness. The first checkpoint was easy enough – I had to surrender my phone and my money and declare my intentions and I was allowed to enter the compound. My intention was in fact to visit the father of one of the lads who is supported by KISS – he has been inside since 2003 without trial, accused of murder. Consequently, this young man who we support is left as the head of the house – he takes sole responsibility for his 8 brothers and sisters, working tirelessly in a maize mill, earning 50p-60p per day to try to keep his siblings in school. The second checkpoint was the best one. It was manned by a plump, seemingly disinterested policewoman. She pointed at a blackboard and instructed me to read the message, which I did with due care and attention.

“No!” she rebuked. “Read it Loudly. To me.”

I forget the exact wording now, but the message scribbled on the board concerned female attire – it stated that women were not to enter the prison if they were wearing alluring clothing – there was to be no tight trousers, no mini-skirts and no skirts with extensive slits up the side.

“Don't you see?” She asked. “Your trousers are VERY tight!”

A small part of me died inside in the struggle to conceal both laughter and pride.

“No, officer,” I said as calmly as I possibly could. “These trousers are very baggy, officer.”

She beckoned me (and my combat style three quarter length shorts and all their pockets) into her office. The office was bare, but for an old chair which had been removed from a taxi tucked into the corner beneath the window. After a lengthy discussion as to the exact nature of my trousers and their relative tightness, and after a suggestion or two that I ought to give her a lot of money, she eventually gave in and let me pass. Checkpoints three and four passed without much eventfulness or offence. Checkpoint five proved to be my downfall.

“Sorry, madam, I cannot let you pass here,” stated the guard in khaki uniform with red belt and matching red beret.

“Oh? Why is that?” I enquired, close to tears through the frustration of it all.

“You are too foreign, madam.”

“Too foreign, officer? I'm not sure I get you.”

“If you are foreign, like you are, you first need to go to the Uganda Prison Headquarters on Parliament Avenue and ask them to write you a letter. Then you can come in, even if you are foreign.”

No amount of arguing was going to change this guy's mind. He was not going to let me in, foreign as I was. I gave up, holding back the tears, and waited just outside the building while the young lad went in alone to visit his father. It might be said that there is a lot to hide in there.

I'm now back in Kasambya – and I now have electricity in my room! It's such a luxury – I take so much pleasure in boiling my kettle and making cups of tea (the powdered milk does it a slight disservice, but I applaud it all the same). I've also recently bought a box of cornflakes in Kampala – again, the powdered milk does not quite do them justice, but I am cannot describe the delight that overcomes me when I sit in the morning sunshine on my doorstep with a cup of tea and bowl of cornflakes!

Please visit the brand spaking new KISS website http://www.kiddiessupportscheme.org/

Hello From Hoima

I'm in Hoima at the minute – I stay in a guest house rather than rent my own room here which is a bit of a mixed blessing. The food is good, there is a real life flushing toilet and, when there is not a power cut, there is power! On the flip side, the guest house shares a compound with a tailoring school (the students of which spend ALL of their time singing – badly) and, unlike Kasambya, I'm not allowed to paint smiley things in vulgar colours all over my bedroom walls. The students of the tailoring school had a retreat last week. This meant that they needed not only to sing, but to sing through a microphone and very distorted speaker – and that they had to begin doing so at 6am. I've still not quite composed myself after the trauma of 300 verses of “Good morning Jesus” in the early hours of Saturday morning.

There's a great bunch of kids here who turn up for activities after school every single day (they're only supposed to come Wednesday to Friday but they decided to start coming on Monday and Tuesday as well and there was not a lot any one could do about it!!) I enjoyed/suffered a rather fast paced, violent, lawless game of netball with a group of the primary school girls last week – I still have the excessively swollen finger to prove it (and a slightly wounded soul after they told me that I had no power)! As well as the netballing girls, there is a group of footballing boys (with rebellious footballing girl who always ends up in goal) plus a group of budding musicians – some of whom are being taught guitar and keyboard and the rest of whom compose songs and dances to the demo buttons on the keyboards. It's such a genius set up. They also come on Saturdays for a prayer meeting (plus football, netball, music and demo-button-related-fun) and on Sundays for a Xaverian Square Formation (the Xaverians are like a Catholic scouting movement) - last weekend they were learning to march – a very amusing experienced for all concerned!

I went to the post office yesterday in the hope that the parcels that I knew had been sent around three weeks ago might have arrived. I asked the lady whether there was anything there for me. She picked around inside her ear for a bit before looking under a pile of papers on her desk and then returning to the apparently infinitely more satisfying job of searching for ear wax. “No,” she replied in a silent, disinterested voice. “Do you think you could check box 34 for me?” I patiently asked. Five minutes later she returned from box 34, scuffing her feet painfully slowly along the tiled floor, still attending to her ear drums. “It's not there” she moaned in a half hearted attempt at sympathy. “But do you have a special place for parcels” I asked, hoping to remind her of the large parcel cupboard directly behind her. “No,” she declared, “if we have your parcel we will send you a sheet to inform you.” Hoping that I would now go away, she sat back down and continued her aural excavation. “Erm.... do you think you might be able to have a look in the parcel cupboard for me?” I persisted. Moving more slowly than anyone has ever moved in the history of the universe ,she got back up, finger still in ear, and moved towards the wardrobe/parcel cupboard. In the universe's attempt to propel life and energy into the situation, two parcels cascaded out of the wardrobe onto the post office attendant. Unphased, she picked the parcels up, examined them, brought them over to the counter and began to prepare herself for the immensely important task of filling out the duplicating receipt book. Once my name had been carefully spelled out in blue biro and the receipt duly stamped, three times, with the Post Office Uganda rubber ink stamp of approval, I was eventually set free. Thanking her earnestly for her assistance and wishing her a wonderful, joy-filled day, I left, goodies from home in hand. God bless Uganda!

The kindgom of far far away...

Well, Kampala cooled down at last and we eventually set off to Sorotti. It's a seven hour bus journey up to Sorotti town and then a further hour and a half on the back of a boda-boda to get to Acumet. I hadn't originally bargained to do that final hour and a half on the back of a bike and so hadn't thought to bring a sun hat with me. I did my best to fashion one out of my bath towel... No one thought this a strange thing to be wearing; someone even commented that I looked 'smart' - but my efforts were to little avail - i still ended up with a head full of dust and a rather rosy face.

Acumet is an incredible place. The area has been witness to years of civil war and tribal conflict and as a result people have left their homes and their land for safety in numbers in an IDP camp. Thanks to an albeit fragile peace process, there have been no confirmed rebel attacks in Uganda since 2006, but this particular area of the north east is still subject to regular tribal clashes. The Karamajong tribe, who are also currently participating in a disarmament process, make regular raids on camps and villages, taking food, property and cattle. I simply cannot imagine how it must be to live your life under constant threat. To know that anything you build up and work for could be lost at any minute. I've reflected on it a lot lately - of course the same is true for all of us - but the imminence of the threat in this particular area must bring a whole new perspective. The fact that NOTHING is certain and that everything is so transitory stares you bare in the face. From a faith perspective St. Teresa's prayer captures the challenge beautifully -

"Let nothing disturb you,

Let nothing frighten you

Everything passes:

God never changes.

Patience obtains all."

What a monumental challenge! A painfully difficult prayer to have the faith to say in a troubled world. Difficult though it is, i constantly feel the sentiment of it laid bare out here.

Our host in Acumet was an eccentric Ugandan priest. His name is Fr. Wazi-Wazi Gonzaga and he has a massive fluffy moustache. That says pretty much everything you need to know. One evening after dinner he whacked a jug of something out onto the table.

"It's medicine!" he declared,

"Oh! Medicine for what, exactly?" I cautiously enquired.

"It is to help digestion. It is made from fermented passion fruits. In fact, it is recommended to us in the bible by St. Paul in his letter to Timothy" he replied.

I'm yet to find the biblical reference to fermented passion fruits, but I duly took a glass in a good faith! It tasted a bit like port... not sure what it did for my digestion, but it didn't kill and i remain grateful for that.

The people in Acumet have lived incredible, often painful, lives. One of the lads we support told me about his experience of one particular rebel attack on the camp a few years ago. He had been away when the rebels attacked. He came back to his home to find food still cooking on the fire, but no one to be seen for miles. He began to cry, thinking that his mum and brothers and sisters had been killed or abducted. He spent days searching for them, deep in the bush. Eventually he came across someone who directed him to his brother and sister. Despite the danger of travelling anywhere he took his brother on the back of his bike, his sister on the front and cycled the whole way up to Sorotti. If it took me an hour and a half on a motorbike, you can imagine how long it took him with two children on a pedal bike. They stopped and hid along the way, waiting for rebels to pass them before continuing their journey. When he delivered his brother and sister to relative safety in the town, he got back on his bike a cycled right back into the camp to search for his mother, still not knowing whether or not she was alive. After another day, he found her too, hungry and crying deep in the bush. Again, he put his mum on the back of the bike and did the same journey to safety in town. Not content that he had done all he could, he again went back to the camp to look for food for the family. When he arrived, he came across a priest who was driving to the next village. The priest offered to take the lad with him but, for reasons he didn't understand at the time, he didn't want to go. He ran and hid in the toilet, hoping that the priest would leave without him. Sure enough, the priest got bored of waiting and left without him. Hours later, news reached the lad that the vehicle had come under attack and the priest was shot dead. The lad collected together as much food as he could and, for the final time, cycled to safety in Sorotti.

I've known this lad for a while, but had never known this story. And there are countless, countless others with similar tales, often all the more tragic. I'm endlessly blown away by how selfless and determined people can be...and feel unbelievably blessed just to know such incredible individuals.

Unfortunately I had to leave Fr Wazi Wazi behind me and make my way back to Kampala. I'm on my way to Hoima to spend a few weeks there, but am temporarily subject to a doctors order to rest up and swallow lots of pills. The pills are gross and make me burp, but I trust that they'll do the trick. Else I might have to call Fr Wazi Wazi to bring me some more 'medicine'...

The King and I

As part of our begininng of term madness Julius and I are in Kampala en route to Sorotti district. We've paid all the school fees for those studying in higher education in Kampala (quite a frightening sum of money!) and we're just waiting to get up to Acumet in the north east of Uganda to pay some more school fees there. We were supposed to travel today, but some serious riots broke out in Kampala yesterday afternoon and we're a bit marooned!

There has been ongoing tension between the Baganda people (the largest ethnic group in Uganda) and the central government. The King and people of Buganda believe that Kampala should be part of their territory and that they should be the ones collecting revenue from the land in Kampala. The areas surrounding Kampala are all part of the Buganda kingdom, but the government claims Kampala for itself.

The King had made plans to visit an area of his kingdom where there is a bit of unrest - and the government have prevented him from doing so 'for fear that there may be violence'. SOOOO... Baganda people are currently protesting in Kampala and surrounding towns and the army and police have been deployed by the government to beat them down. The whole thing kicked off yesterday afternoon and is likely to continue until Saturday when the King is supposed to travel - but it's possible that it'll go on for longer. The police and army are out in FORCE - tanks and all.

We're staying in a hostel right outside of town and there's no sign of anything up this end - the protests are focused in the town centre and then out towards the area where the king wants to go (which, luckily for me, is in the oposite direction to where I am!) I'm porning information from the American Peace Corps security officer who is here caring for his flocks and we're in touch with people in town who are giving us updates - so we're just gonna have to stay put here until it all dies down! Frustrating to say the least, but am grateful to be in a safe place - a safe place that serves burger and chips.

Using the time to catch up on some rest and find out what has been happening in the rest of the world for the last couple of months. Have also been down to the shops and bought some useful gadgets to help me through the troubles - a particular favourite is a bright orange plastic key ring/comb/bottle opener emblazoned with an elongated picture of David Beckham.

Right, i'd best go and entertain Julius - he's feeling particularly miffed and has so far refused to get out of bed!

(Interestingly, the BBC seem to think that it is all over already!)http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8250357.stm

I have come here to dance, and I shall dance!

We're back to school in Uganda this week and its go, go, go! The beginning of term is always by far the busiest time for KISS. The largest percentage of our expenditure goes on school fees and requirements - children have to come to school with all sorts of bits and pieces - exercise books of various shapes and sizes, pens, pencils, toilet rolls, brooms, reams of paper, uniforms; and in the case of the many who we have in boarding school they also need casual uniforms, bed sheets, mattresses, Vaseline, belts, pocket money, basins, soap - the list goes on. All of our children go to various local schools and institutions in Kasambya, Hoima, Kampala and Sorotti - we deal with over 30 separate institutions, all of which have different requirements and all of which require school fees to be paid in person. Our team do a lot of travelling and a lot of shopping during this time and the needs always seem endless - but somehow, thanks to a lot of hard work in both England and Uganda, 150 happy children and young people always make it back to school... and its great to see it!

I'll be sorry to see the end of the holidays - I enjoy having an excess of kids around! We've had a good few weeks in Kasambya and we ended on a real high this weekend with the kids preparing the music and readings for the main Mass on Sunday. I felt ridiculously proud of them - they really lit the place up. We had a hundred strong choir which sounded AWESOME and a host of young dancers who brought the Gospel and offertory forward in a VERY joyful and prayerful way. There was one kid who was not a particularly gifted dancer, to say the least... but when she saw one of the leaders looking at her in rehearsal she declared, "I see you looking at me, but i shall not give up my place... I have come here to dance, and I shall dance!" I just thought that was the most brilliant attitude!

We got the very sad news yesterday of the death of one of our community. Rose was supported by KISS a number of years ago and we supported her to train as a hairdresser. She had been running a successful business here in Kasambya and was an incredibly popular member of the local community. She had not been sick, but died very suddenly yesterday morning while getting her children ready for school. Needless to say its really shaken the community and everyone feels particularly desperate for her three young children, who have clearly not yet grasped what has happened. We have had the burial here today, and the family home is typically very busy after a death - family and friends will spend the next few nights sleeping outside the house, mourning together, before returning to their homes. When the house quietens down, I imagine the kids will begin to get more of a sense of what all this means - please keep them in your prayers.

Otherwise, life goes on as it inevitably must. I'm feeling much more settled lately; having my own room has really helped that along. Talking of which, the door problem is worsening - it has progressed from a showering of concrete dust to a cascade of small rocks which greets anyone who dares enter. Rocks. Not cool. I told someone today and they advised me to "brush" my door. I'm not sure what that might do, but i'm willing to try anything. Can't help but feel that it might create excess mess, but i'll give it a go. I'm still waiting on the arrival of electricity to my room. I have all the wiring in place now (behind the door, obviously) and we're just waiting for a wire to arrive in Mubende (the nearest big town) and for the wire to then somehow find its way here and up the pole and into my room - could be a long wait, but i remain optimistic! On the plus side I have found some gas at last which means that I am now able to cook and heat water for bathing. MASSIVE bonus. I've been relying on the good will of people around me for food - and it has resulted in a LOT of rice, potato and spaghetti (typically all at once on the same plate) and there's only so much more that I can take. I breathed a very temporary sigh of relief the other day when my neighbour offered me some cassava in what looked like a very appetising sauce - but upon tasting it i found it to be a dried fish and peanut sauce - not wishing to sound ungrateful but....

I'm likely to be doing a fair bit of travelling over the next couple of weeks. Want to head up to Sorotti (its faaaaaaaar) to see the girls who we are supporting there and will then be heading to Hoima to spend a good few weeks there. I have recently found myself feeling actual guilt about the fact that I can't be in three places at once, which i realise is not particularly healthy - so this is my attempt to combat it!

In other news I now have my own Internet access through a USB modem wotsit and am enjoying the light relief that access to the internet brings. I spent a particularly special half hour yesterday reading about Terry Wogan. But don't tell anybody.

I've just realised that I've put a picture at the top of this and it has become completely irrelevant as i've forgotten to mention the thing that it was actually of - but enjoy it anyway! Over and out.

Another New Room, Another New Door

Wow, two entries in two days – I'm spoiling you.

It's been quite a long couple of weeks. For reasons that I won't bore you with I had to leave my first room (the one with the door that didn't open) and temporarily move back to the parish while I looked for another room. As hospitable as the priests were, it was difficult to settle there. I'm not very good at being a guest (probably a control thing!) and on top of that I was back to square one with the rats-weeing-from-ceiling scenario. I cannot describe my relief when I finally moved into my new room this week. The new room is just behind the KISS office and right next to the KISS site – location, location, location. It took a little while to get it ready – it came complete with a number of squatters... More cockroaches than I dare to mention and a very sizeable family of rats. When I picked up the straw mat that the rats were hiding under, no less than seven of them ran underneath the interlocking door into my neighbours house. Whoops. I do admit to laughing quite a lot . My conscience eventually got the better of me and I had to go and inform my neighbour that she had visitors. But when I told her that there were seven rats in her room she looked at me, laughed and said, “oh, you only saw seven? There are usually twenty.” Pleased that I had hit the jackpot with chilled out, animal loving neighbours, I returned to my cleaning. Knowing that my neighbour was so well acquainted with the rats, I called a carpenter to come and nail a massive plank of wood to the bottom of the interlocking door – I thought it was best that the rats stayed the other side of it, where they were clearly quite welcome!

The group of students that were with me at the beginning of the trip did a lot of painting while they were here, and left a bit of paint behind them. Unfortunately there wasn't quite enough of any one colour to paint a whole room, so I went with the “anything goes” approach. My new room is a pleasant mixture of white, blue and green with a hint of black, red and yellow. It boasts a large sunshine (complete with smiley face and sunglasses) and a giant red flower (also with smiley face and glasses). The floor is covered with a stylish 'granite effect' lino and, to cover the bit where I ran out of lino, a pink and purple straw mat. Nothing beats making a place your own!
As with the last room, I had to put a new door on this one too. Again I went with the hefty metal variety. The problem with this one isn't so much that it takes ten minutes to open (it only takes five), but when you open it, without fail, a large amount of concrete cascades onto your head. I've developed a knack of opening it from arms length, but it's a little embarrassing when visitors get an unexpected covering. I've been practising my “gosh, that's never happened before” face.

The building hasn't got any electricity in it yet, but we're working on it. There is an electricity pole nearby, so it's simply a case of getting an electrician to put a wire from the post into the building. He came to wire up all the light switches and sockets yesterday (we're doing the KISS office at the same time as my room). When he came to the socket in my room he told me that he would have to move the socket from where it was (next to my bed) to a new location behind the door. When I enquired as to why that would be necessary, he replied “so that you can do your ironing.” I can only assume that that one was lost in translation. Either that, or everyone in Uganda does their ironing behind the door.

I'm sat typing this up in town. I'm at the house of the local chairman (who is responsible for resolving local disputes) and there are two ladies sat outside the door arguing because one of them went into the other's house and smashed up all her cups and mugs because the other lady's husband bought a goat kebab for another woman... It's never dull here! (And it rarely makes sense!)

Will leave it there. I don't have immediate access to internet at the moment as the access I had was via a priest's laptop – and he lent his laptop to a crazy German guy who has gone to meet the king... Hoping to get myself a mobile internet connection, but until then you'll have to forgive my slightly sporadic communication!

I PROMISE to start updating this more regularly...

Yet again its been ages – and I can't even blame Richard, our cameraman friend, as he's already been and gone! I think his time here was fruitful; he got lots of great footage (despite the numerous cows that wondered into shot) to make a bit of a promo DVD, which will help KISS massively. It'll hopefully give everyone a much clearer idea of what KISS actually does out here (provided he leaves out the chunk of footage of me trying to explain things – cos that'll probably do the complete reverse!)

We turned Richard's trip to the airport into a bit of an exciting day out! We hired a car and, together with Julius and Mary (our two employees in Kasambya), took 6 kids on an excursion to Kampala and Entebbe. The kids came dressed in their very best clothes – some of the dresses were quite spectacular (I feel that they might be similar to the dresses that put me off going to Birthday parties when I was 5 – but my Mum will probably deny it). None of the kids had ever been that far before (most of them had never even been in a car before) and we all had an incredible amount of very simple fun! The first moment of complete wonder and awe came as we stopped at traffic lights in Kampala... TRAFFIC LIGHTS! How completely exciting! We've recently acquired a wooden train set at the office, complete with its own set of wooden traffic lights, which are exciting enough in themselves – but to see them in real life? Amazing! The wonder continued as we drove through the busy centre of Kampala – high rise buildings, so many people, so many cars, so much noise! As we continued up the busy road between Kampala and Entebbe, the new sights and sounds kept the kids totally transfixed. It seems the most exciting noise was the swooshing of cars as they drove past at speed – before long every mouth in the car made a “swoooosh” sound every time a car passed (I'm not gonna lie, it did get a tiny bit annoying after an hour or so...)

By far the biggest excitement of the day came when we passed Lake Victoria – water as far as the eye can see! When the biggest expanse of water you have ever seen is the garden pond-sized damn that fills with water when it rains, that's pretty incredible! We stopped for lunch at a hotel by the lake and got the chance to see the water close up – and, for the brave few, to remove all clothing and jump right in! Lunch itself was a journey of great discovery – sausages?! Too bizarre for most to stomach, unfortunately – but the chips went down a treat! More excitement ensued after lunch with the discovery of swings and slides and then the trip to the airport itself. Once we'd said goodbye to Richard and waited to see a plane take off, we headed for one final burst of over excitement and found ourselves at the zoo! I won't go into too much detail – needless to say it was all rather exciting – but a personal highlight was catching the kids poke a massive plastic chimp with a stick, trying to discover whether or not it was real...

We eventually returned 6 very tired, but very happy kids to Kasambya. Only one hour of the four hour journey home was taken up with the “swoooooooshing” game – they slept the rest of the way (I won't pretend that I wasn't grateful for that). It was a top notch day – and aside from being a lot of fun, it did have its wider purposes. Two of the kids we took are carers to their disabled siblings and we wanted to give them a bit of respite and a bit of attention. We're also trying hard to strengthen our pastoral outreach to the wider community; none of the kids we took are directly supported by KISS financially, and we wanted to give a treat to some of the many many kids who have been turning up to weekend activities and send a wider message that despite the fact that they don't receive school fees from us, they are still very much a part of our community. I think the message got there! Hope to do a re-run next time someone is coming from the airport.... It could be you!

Sorry for the slight delay...

Well, its been a little longer than I'd hoped it would be between blogging sessions! I've had a group of 13 students and teachers from back home with me for the past 2 weeks and time has just disappeared. I've had a great time with them though. It's really refreshing to be reminded of what it is like to experience KISS for the first time; the highs of the incredible welcomes and endless smiling children, the hilarity of the way things work (or, more often than not don't work) in Uganda, and the lows of witnessing situations that leave you feeling utterly hopeless. Obviously those things never go away, however long you stay here – but, out of necessity, they become a part of daily life. It's nice to be reminded of the things that first awoke my own love for KISS; I hope the group has gone home similarly smitten!

Sylvia has been turning up for all of our KISS activities in Kasambya and she's quite a hit! She plays what I believe to be a truly fantastic game which involves asking for coins, going away, buying cakes, bringing them back and feeding me! Think I might ask her to move in! She's recently devised a new (slightly less useful) game which involves trying to lick my face – I'm doing what I can to encourage her to revert to the previous game! Word travels very fast in Kasambya and within days of us visiting Sylvia's family two other families turned up at the office with children with similar difficulties and they've also started coming to the activities. We escorted one of them home one evening and she told everyone she came across on the way, in an exceptionally loud and excited voice, what a wonderful time she had had playing with a ball – I've not witnessed such pure joy in a long time – beautiful!

Coincidentally we've just employed someone to work with us in Kasambya who has a lot of experience working with kids with disability. Her main remit is to help strengthen the pastoral provision that KISS offers – and hopefully with her experience we will be able to offer something extra for children like Sylvia who aren't able to attend school – the future is looking quite exciting!

We've been on a bit of a renovation drive with the visitors these past two weeks, and amongst many other paint related endeavours we've relocated and painted the KISS office. It started off very simply with blue sky, white fluffy clouds and a big rainbow.... but as the fumes increased and slight delirium crept in, we decided to paint some child friendly bugs on the walls as well... I was eventually banished after attempts a painting a grasshopper were misinterpreted as being a giant walking aubergine. Art was never my forte.

Right, best leave it there. Hoping to be able to update much more regularly from now on. One of the students has stayed behind and will be with me for another 9 days, so if I don't update you can blame him! He's a broadcast journalism student shooting some promotional footage for KISS – watch this space for the results!

And the journey begins...

Well, what a strange couple of days! My trip started, as every good trip does, with momentary blind panic. I realised, while still several thousand feet up in the sky somewhere above Africa, that I didn't have any cash with me. And that there was no cash machine in the airport. And that I needed £30 to buy a visa from the immigration people when I landed. Bummer. After calmly considering every possible option, I decided against Plan A (potential refusal of entry to Uganda and deportation back to the UK) and opted for Plan B (total embarrassment and a shameless begging campaign). I carefully eyed up all those sitting within begging distance. The guys in front of me looked rich but potentially a bit tight. The people in front and to the left looked a bit foreign. There were two girls to my immediate left but they looked a bit 12. The guy in the seat next to me was deaf (like, ACTUALLY). So, that was it. I had to opt for a father/daughter couple sat behind me. They looked nice enough. I sat for ages carefully rehearsing my “I'm ever so sorry to bother you” speech and, when we landed, I plucked up the courage to deliver it. I'm not sure whether it was the sheepish look of utter humiliation or the careful execution of such an eloquent speech that won it for me, but they duly handed over the cash. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay them back,but I decided to worry about that later. For the time being they were my new best friends. And my new friendship paid off. By the time we had collected our bags, they had left the money to me as a donation to KISS. Result!

After landing I came straight (or as straight as anything ever is in Africa) to Kasambya. I decided not to stay in the place where I was going to stay as there wasn't really much of a door on it and I thought that that might prove to be a slight inconvenience. So I'm temporarily based at the parish while a door is fashioned for my new room. I went to visit the door in progress today. It's being built by a welder in town and is HEFTY and green and comes with a matching HEFTY green window. I've also commissioned some shelves from a carpenter who I happened upon (at around the same time as a small child happened upon me and did a poo by feet). The shelves are going to be a bit taller than a table and a bit less wide than the length of a bed. Who needs feet and inches?! I look forward to the finished product – can't wait to unpack!

I'm sat writing this in bed with the mother of all thunderstorms bashing around above me. More immediately above me are a host of uninvited mice and bats. They are squeaking and nibbling and, every so often, weeing through the gaps in the ceiling. Forget about mosquito nets having anything to do with mosquito protection. My net is there to allow me to lay towels over it to soak up any unwanted moisture from above. Not cool. Luckily there is no ceiling in my new room, so at least nothing can live in it!

I met a gorgeous family this morning. Julius and I had gone to visit a few people who KISS is supporting when we were introduced to a couple outside a makeshift church in the village. The father was sat bashing the dents out of old pieces of metal and Mum was sat on an old school bench playing with her daughter. It soon became apparent that the girl had quite severe brain damage. But what was more apparent was the affection that the girl's parents had for her. The girl, Sylvia, was so full of cuddles and smiles and it was just so incredibly uplifting to see those hugs and smiles being returned to her by her parents. I think it is fair to say that there is still a huge taboo surrounding mental illness, particularly in rural Uganda, and it would not be uncommon to find a child with such profound difficulties treated with disdain and hidden from view. The parents had tried sending the girl to school, but to no avail as no one could ensure that she would stay put. But they were desperate for her to be able to interact with other children. Julius and I suggested that she could come and join in with KISS activities if she wanted to – and her parents were thrilled. I'm thrilled too – if her presence touches the children we support as deeply as it has already touched me, I've no doubt the kid will move mountains – she's gorgeous!