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!!!