Another of Cathie's stories involves understanding the difference between regular time (which is 7 hours ahead of Toronto time) and Uganda time.
On one of Cathie's past visits, she heard of a parade that was to happen the next day. Wanting to experience as much culture as possible, she asked the taxi driver what time the parade would take place - "Oh, 4 o'clock, madam," was the reply.
So, Cathie duly reported to the proper location before 4 o'clock, only to find the place empty. She wondered if she had the right place, and then finally asked someone.
Cathie: Isn't there a parade today?
Local person: Yes madam, but it is long over.
Cathie: But I was told 4 o'clock!
Local person: Did they tell you that was Ugandan time?
Cathie: Is that different than the time on my watch?
Local person: Yes, Ugandan time goes by the sun. The first hour after the sun comes up (6am every day) is 1 o'clock in the morning. The first hour after the sun goes down (6pm) is 1 o'clock at night. So 4 o'clock Ugandan time was 10 o'clock this morning to you.
Cathie: I have a headache.
Of course there is also what I call "Goretti time", but that's a whole different story.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Goat on a Rope
Cathie and her husband Michael (pictured above tonight at dinner) are full of stories.
At dinner tonight Michael decided to try some goat, and Ather (the fourth member of our little group) asked if there was any rope in the meal (which, I am told, was very tasty). This little remark was directed at me, a ridiculously soft-hearted person who, although not a vegetarian (yet), can not eat anything she has seen alive (including fish), and is happiest believing that meat comes from the store, wrapped in cellophane.
Apparently Cathie once asked what she would bring to someone's house as a hostess gift if invited to dinner here in Uganda. She was told "oh nothing - you are a guest!" numerous times, until finally the person said, "well, you could bring food, but you would have to bring it three days in advance so I could prepare it." This brought a questioning look from Cathie, who was then challenged to maintain her best neutral smile when it was clarified, "you know, goat on a rope!"
The story teller eventually let her off the hook by laughing and saying, "or you could bring a bottle of wine. We like the Western way too!"
I haven't been able to look a the cute little frolicking goats in the field the same way since...
The View from the Hill
I have conflicting emotions this evening, as I sit here on the balcony of my beautiful hotel room at The Ranch overlooking Lake Victoria. We arrived here this afternoon to get ready for the first day of workshops tomorrow, which is a “residential” workshop (meaning the participants stay onsite – an added incentive to ensure high attendance).
I am told the rate is $115US per night, and for this I get three meals, impeccable service, a huge room with beautiful furniture and an exotic mosquito net (which is not needed, thank goodness), an enormous bathroom with rainshower, business desk with wireless internet, sitting area, and a tiled balcony overlooking a beautiful garden and in the distance, the Lake. Oh, and the view of a little village.
This is where the mixed feelings come in. Over the past couple of days I have been on a few road trips, and all along the roads, whether in the cities or small villages, I see people of all ages trudging to get their water for the day in gigantic yellow containers. There is no running water here, and people make daily treks to get their supply for washing, cooking, and bathing. I see crooked red-brick shacks piled together to create a neighbourhood, laundry hanging everywhere or spread on shrubs or the lawn, and chickens, goats, cows, and ducks roaming freely with barefoot (sometimes, but not always) children. Women carrying enormous baskets of bananas on their head try to sell their wares to occupants of passing cars. Tiny shacks are tilted at precarious angles, and the owner is usually perched on a stool inside waiting for someone to buy a phone card, a stick of sugar cane, a bottle of Fanta, an iron gate, a carved bedframe, a cut of beef/pork/goat, hats, clothing, or fruit. I see “Jesus is King Metalworks” and the car washing bay in the creek. And everywhere, people, boda-bodas, and diesel spewing trucks.
The view from my balcony is a little different. I just watched a man and woman walk along the path towards the little village – she with an enormous pile of clothing on her head – and a group of four or five children came running towards them, jumping around them and then clutching their hands as they continued along the path. Parents coming home at the end of the day? Perhaps. I can see them now, kicking a soccer ball around, chasing the chickens and waiting for the sun to set. (Their rooster is confused – he has been crowing all afternoon.)
What I have not seen is the sad sad World Vision images. The people I see are smiling, joking, laughing, chatting on their cell phones, and enjoying their day. They look healthy and happy, quite frankly. Food is plentiful, there is lots of activity, and tourism is on the rise.
I tell myself that it’s ok that I’m in this castle on the hill, because I’m contributing to the economy. But I can’t help feel a little guilty for complaining about my hard bed and difficulties in finding a hair dryer.
I am told the rate is $115US per night, and for this I get three meals, impeccable service, a huge room with beautiful furniture and an exotic mosquito net (which is not needed, thank goodness), an enormous bathroom with rainshower, business desk with wireless internet, sitting area, and a tiled balcony overlooking a beautiful garden and in the distance, the Lake. Oh, and the view of a little village.
This is where the mixed feelings come in. Over the past couple of days I have been on a few road trips, and all along the roads, whether in the cities or small villages, I see people of all ages trudging to get their water for the day in gigantic yellow containers. There is no running water here, and people make daily treks to get their supply for washing, cooking, and bathing. I see crooked red-brick shacks piled together to create a neighbourhood, laundry hanging everywhere or spread on shrubs or the lawn, and chickens, goats, cows, and ducks roaming freely with barefoot (sometimes, but not always) children. Women carrying enormous baskets of bananas on their head try to sell their wares to occupants of passing cars. Tiny shacks are tilted at precarious angles, and the owner is usually perched on a stool inside waiting for someone to buy a phone card, a stick of sugar cane, a bottle of Fanta, an iron gate, a carved bedframe, a cut of beef/pork/goat, hats, clothing, or fruit. I see “Jesus is King Metalworks” and the car washing bay in the creek. And everywhere, people, boda-bodas, and diesel spewing trucks.The view from my balcony is a little different. I just watched a man and woman walk along the path towards the little village – she with an enormous pile of clothing on her head – and a group of four or five children came running towards them, jumping around them and then clutching their hands as they continued along the path. Parents coming home at the end of the day? Perhaps. I can see them now, kicking a soccer ball around, chasing the chickens and waiting for the sun to set. (Their rooster is confused – he has been crowing all afternoon.)
What I have not seen is the sad sad World Vision images. The people I see are smiling, joking, laughing, chatting on their cell phones, and enjoying their day. They look healthy and happy, quite frankly. Food is plentiful, there is lots of activity, and tourism is on the rise.
I tell myself that it’s ok that I’m in this castle on the hill, because I’m contributing to the economy. But I can’t help feel a little guilty for complaining about my hard bed and difficulties in finding a hair dryer.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Jungle and The Jam
What a day! My hosts tell me I got to experience just about everything today, but there were no lions and no earthquakes, so clearly they exaggerated.
Things started off fairly uneventfully. In fact, the first half of the day was downright boring. Slept like a log on the most uncomfortable bed in the universe, only to discover it was actually a box spring. Apparently they “forgot” the mattress. (“No madam, that is impossible,” the manager said to me. And yet, tonight I have a mattress…)
Anyway, we were all a little bleary-eyed this morning, but enjoyed our buffet breakfast, picking out only the “allowed” foods. (If it’s not peeled, boiled, or hot… don’t eat it.) Next we went off to find a room where we could put our heads together and do some work until our hosts arrived at midday.
So you can see this how this could be a fairly boring day.
However, once Goretti and Rose arrived and sorted out a few things, I took off with them along with my colleague Cathie’s husband Michael, and we drove out to the jungle. The drive itself was quite interesting and about 90 mins in length. We stopped at one point, and were surrounded by people selling cold beverages and a variety of meat cooked on sticks. I didn't have any (clearly it was neither boiled, hot, or recently peeled), but it was pretty neat to see these vendors and their unusual (to me) wares. Steven, our driver, bought a stick of cooked beef.
Things started off fairly uneventfully. In fact, the first half of the day was downright boring. Slept like a log on the most uncomfortable bed in the universe, only to discover it was actually a box spring. Apparently they “forgot” the mattress. (“No madam, that is impossible,” the manager said to me. And yet, tonight I have a mattress…)
Anyway, we were all a little bleary-eyed this morning, but enjoyed our buffet breakfast, picking out only the “allowed” foods. (If it’s not peeled, boiled, or hot… don’t eat it.) Next we went off to find a room where we could put our heads together and do some work until our hosts arrived at midday.
So you can see this how this could be a fairly boring day.
However, once Goretti and Rose arrived and sorted out a few things, I took off with them along with my colleague Cathie’s husband Michael, and we drove out to the jungle. The drive itself was quite interesting and about 90 mins in length. We stopped at one point, and were surrounded by people selling cold beverages and a variety of meat cooked on sticks. I didn't have any (clearly it was neither boiled, hot, or recently peeled), but it was pretty neat to see these vendors and their unusual (to me) wares. Steven, our driver, bought a stick of cooked beef.
Mabira, which is a Luganda word meaning Large Forests, is the largest stand of indigenous forest in central Uganda (300 sq km). It used to be victim to illegal cutting thanks to high demand for timber and rubber, but thankfully is now protected. I won’t bore you with all the details of the birds (apparently it’s a birder’s paradise) and trees, but I will tell you with great excitement that I saw a dozen or more red-tailed monkeys! The staff were most anxious to make sure that I saw what I came to see, and were very helpful, “Madam, did you see the monkey? It is cold so you may not see them.” Or, “Madam, look here please, here is George.” (I named the monkey George, which they took very seriously.)
Cold. Ha. It was at least 20C, but this was cold for them. I was glad, because the cool weather apparently makes the snakes go underground. “Oh, if it was sunny I would tell you not to stand there, but it is cold so don’t worry.” This brought me great comfort. Sort of.
It was pouring rain the whole time we were there and Goretti was horrified that it should rain when her guests were visiting. However, I reminded her that this was a rainforest, and so it was appropriate that it should rain. Plus, the monkeys didn’t mind and the snakes went below, so it was all good. (Below, Goretti on the left, and Rose on the right.)
We had a lovely tea break there, listening to the rain and the birds and the monkeys – it was very peaceful – and then made the trek back to Kampala. Now we were told this trip was a half an hour when there is no traffic. What we were NOT told, was that there is always traffic (which they lovingly call “The Jam”), and that when it rains you should have a four-wheel drive vehicle. We did not.
Halfway up the hill leaving Mabira, our van got stuck. Steven tried several times to bully his way out of the ruts, but eventually we all climbed out of the van and waited by the side of the road (this is where I heard about the snake situation) until a dozen men on four boda-bodas came to rescue us.
(A boda-boda is a motorcycle, renamed because of their frequent use as transportation of choice for illegals crossing the border between Uganda and Kenya. Border-to-border became boda-boda. And yes, a dozen men on four boda-bodas is quite a sight.)
About a half an hour later the problem was solved and Steven came flying up the hill as we jumped out of the way, splashing the iron-rich red mud all over ourselves. We were very glad we didn’t have to ride boda-bodas back to town (although it was surely tempting and would definitely have been faster), and so began the long journey. It took 2.5 hours to go 55km thanks to The Jam and some non-existent traffic laws, frenzied drivers, ambivalent pedestrians, and enormous potholes.
The drive is really interesting, and lovely in some places; we saw banana, sugar, and tea plantations, roadside butchers (ew), the ubiquitous cell phone and Coca-Cola ads, women (and men, actually) carrying enormous baskets on their heads, naive goats frolicking in the grass, kids running and playing football (soccer), and the most beautiful sunset.
A quick dinner when we got back close to 9, and we were all ready to call it a day. Tomorrow, off to The Ranch on Lake Victoria to prep for Monday’s workshops. Can it top today? Stay tuned…
It was pouring rain the whole time we were there and Goretti was horrified that it should rain when her guests were visiting. However, I reminded her that this was a rainforest, and so it was appropriate that it should rain. Plus, the monkeys didn’t mind and the snakes went below, so it was all good. (Below, Goretti on the left, and Rose on the right.)
We had a lovely tea break there, listening to the rain and the birds and the monkeys – it was very peaceful – and then made the trek back to Kampala. Now we were told this trip was a half an hour when there is no traffic. What we were NOT told, was that there is always traffic (which they lovingly call “The Jam”), and that when it rains you should have a four-wheel drive vehicle. We did not.
Halfway up the hill leaving Mabira, our van got stuck. Steven tried several times to bully his way out of the ruts, but eventually we all climbed out of the van and waited by the side of the road (this is where I heard about the snake situation) until a dozen men on four boda-bodas came to rescue us.
(A boda-boda is a motorcycle, renamed because of their frequent use as transportation of choice for illegals crossing the border between Uganda and Kenya. Border-to-border became boda-boda. And yes, a dozen men on four boda-bodas is quite a sight.)
About a half an hour later the problem was solved and Steven came flying up the hill as we jumped out of the way, splashing the iron-rich red mud all over ourselves. We were very glad we didn’t have to ride boda-bodas back to town (although it was surely tempting and would definitely have been faster), and so began the long journey. It took 2.5 hours to go 55km thanks to The Jam and some non-existent traffic laws, frenzied drivers, ambivalent pedestrians, and enormous potholes.
The drive is really interesting, and lovely in some places; we saw banana, sugar, and tea plantations, roadside butchers (ew), the ubiquitous cell phone and Coca-Cola ads, women (and men, actually) carrying enormous baskets on their heads, naive goats frolicking in the grass, kids running and playing football (soccer), and the most beautiful sunset.
A quick dinner when we got back close to 9, and we were all ready to call it a day. Tomorrow, off to The Ranch on Lake Victoria to prep for Monday’s workshops. Can it top today? Stay tuned…
Friday, May 29, 2009
Flight #2
We made it. About 26 hours door-to-door, and we are here! Looking like something the cat dragged in, as my grandmother would say, but we are here!
Flight #2 was long. Really long. But a couple of Gravol helped me get a few hours of sleep and wake up in enough time to marvel at the vast Sahara as we flew over. I wonder how big and tall the sand dunes must be to be visible from 35,000 feet. The sand seems to go on and on, with the hues varying from, well, "sandy" beige, to rosy, to black in some places. You can see the patterns the wind has carved, and not much else. Vast, unending and seemingly empty from my vantage point. Marvellous.
Clouds moved in as we went south, but the nifty travel map was up on the screen and I could follow along as we passed just west of Khartoum and just east of Darfur - horrible to think what is going on far below and out of sight. The sun set around 6:30 I think - this seems early, but I am reminded that we are on the equator, so the sunlight is pretty much 6am-6pm every day of the year.
The captain announced our descent none too soon, for I had had about enough of my seat mate, who was the kind of person who hogs the arm rest, doesn't sit still, and elbows you from time to time. She even woke me up (woke me up!) to ask if I wanted dinner. Sheesh.
Culture shock hit quickly in Entebbe airport as we waited four different times for four different reasons. First to have a "health screening", because clearly my name and address and signature verify that I am healthy and ok to enter the country. Second to go through immigration. Third to get our luggage. Fourth to get packed into our welcome wagon.
And what a lovely welcome! Goretti lead the team who welcomed us with open arms and smiles and gift bags, and proudly pointed out all the beautiful changes in Kampala and surroundings since the team's last visit in 2007. I noted dozens of little campfires lining the road and discovered that many people walk home from work, and along the way they can stop and buy their supper and sit by little fires to share a meal with friends. It was quite beautiful!
Not much else was visible, and my jet lag was causing me to nod off en route to our hotel. But here we are, all checked in and I am heading to bed for a good sleep. Tomorrow I hope to get out and see some things and take some pictures, and so post something a little more interesting!
Until then... g'night.
Flight #2 was long. Really long. But a couple of Gravol helped me get a few hours of sleep and wake up in enough time to marvel at the vast Sahara as we flew over. I wonder how big and tall the sand dunes must be to be visible from 35,000 feet. The sand seems to go on and on, with the hues varying from, well, "sandy" beige, to rosy, to black in some places. You can see the patterns the wind has carved, and not much else. Vast, unending and seemingly empty from my vantage point. Marvellous.
Clouds moved in as we went south, but the nifty travel map was up on the screen and I could follow along as we passed just west of Khartoum and just east of Darfur - horrible to think what is going on far below and out of sight. The sun set around 6:30 I think - this seems early, but I am reminded that we are on the equator, so the sunlight is pretty much 6am-6pm every day of the year.
The captain announced our descent none too soon, for I had had about enough of my seat mate, who was the kind of person who hogs the arm rest, doesn't sit still, and elbows you from time to time. She even woke me up (woke me up!) to ask if I wanted dinner. Sheesh.
Culture shock hit quickly in Entebbe airport as we waited four different times for four different reasons. First to have a "health screening", because clearly my name and address and signature verify that I am healthy and ok to enter the country. Second to go through immigration. Third to get our luggage. Fourth to get packed into our welcome wagon.
And what a lovely welcome! Goretti lead the team who welcomed us with open arms and smiles and gift bags, and proudly pointed out all the beautiful changes in Kampala and surroundings since the team's last visit in 2007. I noted dozens of little campfires lining the road and discovered that many people walk home from work, and along the way they can stop and buy their supper and sit by little fires to share a meal with friends. It was quite beautiful!
Not much else was visible, and my jet lag was causing me to nod off en route to our hotel. But here we are, all checked in and I am heading to bed for a good sleep. Tomorrow I hope to get out and see some things and take some pictures, and so post something a little more interesting!
Until then... g'night.
Flight #1
I can’t sleep. It’s 10:30pm Toronto time, and I suspect we are somewhere over the Atlantic. Marley & Me is playing on the overhead screen, so I don’t have access to that nifty little map that shows you where you are, what temperature it is outside the plane and how fast you’re going. So, I’m guessing over water, freezing, and really fast. (This 747 has a cruising speed of 920kmh, which I think qualifies as “really fast”.)
I am really lucky to have the most interesting seat-mates. One guy is works for a private travel agency, Kensington, and does all kind of made-to-order tours in the Middle East and the Mediterranean for the uber-wealthy. His final destination is Athens. The other guy is a young man who just finished studying Pharmacology at U of T. He is from Mumbai, and headed there for a visit. He made an interesting observation that 24 hours after meeting, we will all be scattered to areas far-flung from Toronto.
So far I’m impressed with KLM. The seat is somewhat cramped and their boarding process was ridiculous, but the service is good, the plane is clean, the food was tasty, and their magazine is actually interesting! Things I’ve learned so far (besides the cruising speed of a 747):
I am really lucky to have the most interesting seat-mates. One guy is works for a private travel agency, Kensington, and does all kind of made-to-order tours in the Middle East and the Mediterranean for the uber-wealthy. His final destination is Athens. The other guy is a young man who just finished studying Pharmacology at U of T. He is from Mumbai, and headed there for a visit. He made an interesting observation that 24 hours after meeting, we will all be scattered to areas far-flung from Toronto.
So far I’m impressed with KLM. The seat is somewhat cramped and their boarding process was ridiculous, but the service is good, the plane is clean, the food was tasty, and their magazine is actually interesting! Things I’ve learned so far (besides the cruising speed of a 747):
- KLM has a Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) program that is built into everything they do. From what I can gather, it is focused on making their operations “green”, so much so that their customers become part of the process. (Customer checks in online, gets a boarding pass on their mobile to save paper, carries less weight in their luggage to reduce carbon footprint during flight, uses the recycled drinking glasses, etc etc). In fact, the company has made bicycles available to their staff for commuting to work or between office buildings. Cool.
- Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport contributes 2% to the Netherlands’ GDP every year, and handles 48 million passengers during that same time.
- The Netherlands has the second highest density of broadband internet connection in the world (#1 is Denmark).
I’ve also been reading my book on Uganda, skimming my way through its history and reading about flora and fauna and all the amazing activities that await anyone with an adventurous spirit. Sadly my spirit will not be tested, as I believe we are fully booked with work each day, but I’m crossing my fingers that we will end up with the opportunity to visit some cultural spots as well as a primate sanctuary that is quite near Kampala.
The sun is on the horizon out the port side here (does one say “port” on a plane?) and so my sense of direction is a bit messed up. I know we are flying east, yet the sun is on my left – the curvature of the earth must have something to do with it – I suppose we are actually flying south-east from Iceland by now.
And so I am babbling. And conveniently, the lights have been turned on, signalling breakfast. I love airline breakfasts. :)
Monday, May 18, 2009
And Why the Blog?
I am one of the employees of the Ontario Public Service (OPS). Yes, a "government worker", and proud to say it. Specifically, I work for ServiceOntario (link on the right), and without sounding too much like a commercial, we're the "retail face of government" - we are here to make things easier for Ontarians to get products and services from the Provincial government. In order to do that, we need to simplify and modernize a lot of our business processes, and that's where I come in.
I am a self-professed "process geek". There's nothing I like more than getting to the bottom of a broken or messy process and figuring out how to fix it. Whether it's in a restaurant, a bank, a hospital, or an airport, I'm constantly on point - looking at what's going on and thinking about what I would do if I were asked to help.
Usually, of course, I'm not asked. (Not outside work, anyway.)
But last summer I was privileged to do a presentation to a delegation from the Ugandan Public Service (UPS). I enjoyed presenting my usual "process improvement in the public sector" material, and thought nothing more of it. But apparently the delegation was very excited, and so this year, I was invited to join a small team from the OPS and go over to Uganda to lead a workshop on process improvement.
I should say that this trip is made possible through the Institute of Public Administration of Canada (IPAC) and the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) (both links on the right). Basically, these organizations have paired various provinces with various developing nations. The provinces work to share best practices and help the developing nation grow and prosper. Ontario has been part of this program since 2001, and the partnership with Uganda has been successful not only for the people of Uganda, but also has been a wonderful learning experience for those OPS employees who have been fortunate enough to become involved.
I am very very excited and am not quite sure what will happen and what to expect! I have trained many people in Canada and have given presentations in the US, but never have I taught in, let alone traveled to, the continent of Africa. The trip will be short - I'll be in Uganda for a week and then fly home through London to visit with some ex-pat friends there. But a lot can happen in a week!
I hope you enjoy following along with me...
I am a self-professed "process geek". There's nothing I like more than getting to the bottom of a broken or messy process and figuring out how to fix it. Whether it's in a restaurant, a bank, a hospital, or an airport, I'm constantly on point - looking at what's going on and thinking about what I would do if I were asked to help.
Usually, of course, I'm not asked. (Not outside work, anyway.)
But last summer I was privileged to do a presentation to a delegation from the Ugandan Public Service (UPS). I enjoyed presenting my usual "process improvement in the public sector" material, and thought nothing more of it. But apparently the delegation was very excited, and so this year, I was invited to join a small team from the OPS and go over to Uganda to lead a workshop on process improvement.
I should say that this trip is made possible through the Institute of Public Administration of Canada (IPAC) and the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) (both links on the right). Basically, these organizations have paired various provinces with various developing nations. The provinces work to share best practices and help the developing nation grow and prosper. Ontario has been part of this program since 2001, and the partnership with Uganda has been successful not only for the people of Uganda, but also has been a wonderful learning experience for those OPS employees who have been fortunate enough to become involved.
I am very very excited and am not quite sure what will happen and what to expect! I have trained many people in Canada and have given presentations in the US, but never have I taught in, let alone traveled to, the continent of Africa. The trip will be short - I'll be in Uganda for a week and then fly home through London to visit with some ex-pat friends there. But a lot can happen in a week!
I hope you enjoy following along with me...
Why the Title?
I asked my team at work for some ideas for my blog name, and I received several - some were very creative, and some were hilarious and some were awful (you know who you are!). My favourite was from Regan, who had Googled Uganda's national anthem for some inspiration.
The music is very grand (link on the right if you're interested), and the lyrics are quite lovely - the last line became my blog title. Thanks Regan!
Oh Uganda! may God uphold thee,
We lay our future in thy hand.
United, free,
For liberty oh for
Together we'll always stand.
Oh Uganda! the land of freedom.
Our love and labour we give,
And with neighbours all
At our country's call
In peace and friendship we'll live.
Oh Uganda! the land that feeds us
By sun and fertile soil grown.
For our own dear land,
We'll always stand,
The Pearl of Africa's Crown.
The music is very grand (link on the right if you're interested), and the lyrics are quite lovely - the last line became my blog title. Thanks Regan!
Oh Uganda! may God uphold thee,
We lay our future in thy hand.
United, free,
For liberty oh for
Together we'll always stand.
Oh Uganda! the land of freedom.
Our love and labour we give,
And with neighbours all
At our country's call
In peace and friendship we'll live.
Oh Uganda! the land that feeds us
By sun and fertile soil grown.
For our own dear land,
We'll always stand,
The Pearl of Africa's Crown.
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