tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23523280225803269422024-02-07T12:46:50.231+07:00The Manda Panda BlogManda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-6791609206561901032014-01-17T21:03:00.002+07:002014-01-17T21:10:26.189+07:00Girls week <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The girls have been at the house for the last week, and the week started out pretty bumpy. The girls are very different from the boys, they are super quiet and shy, very timid. The first two days they kept to themselves most of the time and would get really quiet when I would go sit down with them. It was hard to get them to talk to me, pretty much impossible to get a smile or laugh from them. On Tuesday and Wednesday we mostly worked on sewing their bags, the machines put up a fight so they did the sewing by hand. On Wednesday night I took my computer out to the court yard and taught the girls some of the dances I had taught the boys. The girls loved the dances and were a lot better at them than the boys ;) A few of them told me dancing was one of their favorite things to do. Thursday there was a break through while we were baking cookies, Fiona scared me as I was coming into the kitchen and after that the girls loosened up a bit. I spent Friday morning sitting with them in the court yard talking to them, laughs are still hard to come by and I still get shy smiles in answer to questions I ask, but they are a little more open today then they have been all week. It’s a shame because tomorrow Cliff and I will take them back to the ghetto. In addition to making the tote bags and baking, there have been a lot of games played. I taught the girls how to play rock, paper scissors and down by the banks, they taught me four or five different variations of dodge ball, we played volley ball and football. For the times the girls did come out of their shells, we had a fabulous time. I’m sorry to have to say goodbye so soon. </span></span></div>
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Fiona</div>
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Vanessa</div>
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Merriam and I </div>
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Merriam and Fiona</div>
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Linda and I </div>
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Vanessa</div>
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Down by the banks</div>
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Cliff stopped by for a while</div>
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Immachulate</div>
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Merriam </div>
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Fiona and Esther</div>
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Peace and Calvin</div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-91167520609240737922014-01-14T21:09:00.000+07:002014-01-17T21:10:11.098+07:00My boys <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A glimps of what my week was like with the boys :D </div>
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Sorry its upside down </div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-42488175834527527182014-01-11T21:36:00.005+07:002014-01-11T21:36:37.254+07:00Great news!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I actually leave on Sunday!!!<br />
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I was just talking with Tomi, asking if it would be alright for the boys to come to the airport with me on Saturday and she said she thought I was leaving Sunday. After checking my ticket I found out she was right!<br />
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Not only do I get an extra Saturday with the kids, but I get an extra day with my boys!!!<br />
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:D<br />
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I'm so excited! </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-87454882354189360652014-01-11T21:25:00.002+07:002014-01-11T21:27:10.166+07:00Last Saturday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Today was my last day with the kids in the ghetto, we were running a little late so the kids were all sitting inside the community center by the time we got there. We had the most kids today, I thought they were packed in before…. I hardly had room to stand, there were kids everywhere. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We had a pretty quick lesson today, I had a craft for the older kids that was going to take up a little bit of time. I talked about listening to parents, how important it is to follow directions and got about 15 minutes in before the little ones started getting restless and noisy. Cliff and a few of the boys ushered all the kids under 5 out to have their porriadge while I enlisted Stephen, Cranma and Eric to help me get ready for the craft.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We ended up with about 30 kids, so much easier to talk to a group of 30 than a group of 100+. I asked them if they thought they were special and the kids said yes, and got some interesting answers when I asked why they were special. One little girl said she was special because she could roll beads, another said he was special because he did good things. I picked a few kids at random and asked if anyone had a laugh like one of the girls. The kids shook their heads, no. I told them the little girl was special because no one in the world had a laugh like hers. I picked up Patricia's hand and asked if anyone had the exact same hand as Patricia, again I got nos. I told the kids Patricia was special because she was the only one with hands like hers. I told them each and every one there was special. I asked them to make me a promise, that when they got up every morning they would tell themselves they were special. I got some very shy grins and nods. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I put the boys into stations and turned back to the kids, holding up a container of beads. “I’ve brought you all something, these are magic beads. You each get 10 magic beads, each bead is good for one wish. You can wish for anything you want, but you have to wish with your whole heart.” The way the kid’s faces lit up as Cliff translated was worth every penny I spent to get here. Cliff and I lined the kids up in front of the boys and they distributed 10 beads to each child and a piece of stretchy string. The kids went back to their seats and chatted happily with their neighbor as they strung their beads and talked about what they were going to wish for. There were so many beads left over I had Josephine and Lilian also make one. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After the kids had their bracelets, we told the kids to go outside so we could all take a picture together. As the kids swarmed out of the building, there was a tug on my arm. I looked down and the cutest little boy was standing, smiling shyly up at me. He held up a strand of brown paper beads. I looked around and plucked Stephen by the neck of his shirt and asked him to translate. “It’s a gift for you,”. The little boy slipped the necklace over my head and I gave him a hug. Before I could take a step someone grabbed my hand and slipped a bracelet on to it. Everywhere I turned, left and right, kids were holding up paper bead jewelry and grinning. I gratefully accepted each gift and returned it with a hug and a picture. </span></span></div>
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One of Joshepine's granddaughters</div>
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Another of her granddaughters </div>
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There were so many kids around me, I was being pushed off the ledge I was teetering on</div>
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All my bling ;) </div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When we had taken a group shot, the kids got their millet. Ronald came up to me looking nervous. “I have a gift for you,” he said. I smiled and put my arm around his shoulder. “You are my gift,” I told him. He shook his head, frowning. “No, I have something I want to give you. Let me run home and get it.” The other kids had their cup of millet filled and dispersed. We were just getting packed up to leave when Ronald came running back. He had a beautiful red and blue bracelet that he put on my wrist, granted he had to find room first. I had been holding back tears as the kids had been giving me their gifts but Ronald’s bracelet was the last straw. We walked back to the car, I had my sunglasses over my tear filled eyes. The boys loaded into the back so we could drop them off and we started driving out of the ghetto. I cried silently, clutching Calvin sitting on my lap as we drove. The boys got out at their stop and gave me a high five. They promised to come back on Monday when I visit the women one last time and then left. I sat in the front seat of the car and let the tears stream down my face, I didn’t want to upset Cliff, Eron or Esther. However when we stopped at the market Eron leaned over the seat and asked why I was crying. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">That made me start crying in earnest, Calvin looked at me worried as I explained how touched I was that the kids had brought me gifts. I had only seen them three Saturdays out of the 5 weeks that I’ve been here. The effortless love these kids give is wonderful and heartwarming. They and their families have very little, and yet they still find a way to show their love and appreciation. These kids have taught me that you don’t need much in life to be happy, you just need love. I will miss these kids dearly, not as much as I will miss my boys though. I desperately wish I could stay longer and get to know these kids and their families better, but unfortunately I only have one week left in Uganda. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Monday I see the women one last time and we’ll bring the girls to the house. On Friday we’ll take them back to the ghetto early and pick up the boys. Okidi’s heartfelt plea to Cliff for the boys to take me to the airport next Saturday was irresistible. The boys will come to the airport with Cliff and I to say good bye. Not looking forward to saying goodbye, but I am excited to have one more night with my boys. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-39149350464289472082014-01-10T01:56:00.000+07:002014-01-11T19:22:47.179+07:00Best. Week. Ever!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This has been the most incredible week I’ve spent in Kampala.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Monday, after I had a meeting with the women, Cliff and I picked up Stephen, Cranma, Isaac, Ronald, Okidi, Eric, and Otim and took them to Tomi’s house. These 7 boys are part of the youth group that regularly help out with the Saturday program. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Monday we only had half a day, and we spent it playing ice breaker and team building games. We all watched a movie before going to sleep. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Tuesday we started on our sewing project after a bible study lesson (thanks again Sally and Bernie for the books!!!). However the sewing machines proved to be a pain in the butt and pretty much refused to work. The boys cut out all the fabric they would need, interesting note; the boys preferred the pink and flower/bug fabric to the dinosaur and green print fabric. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Wednesday we struggled again with the machines and finally threw in the towel. I showed the boys how to sew their bags and ripped clothes by hand. The boys were surprisingly excited about the bags. After dinner we played charades, 20 questions, a game like hide and seek but only one person hides</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On Thursday Cliff picked us up and took us to a football field, the boys were dying to kick a ball around. We played a game like keep away where you kick the ball to each other and the person in the middle tries to get the ball, and hand ball which is basically keep away. We split into teams and kept the ball in the air, passing it back and forth. During the keep away game, Ronald took a ball to the face and I did I back flop onto the ground to avoid tripping over Cranma. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Friday was the best day of all. All the boys finished their bags, Eric was a whiz on the sewing machine that I had no patients for. Cranma, Isaac and Otim had the best whip stitch I’ve seen in a while. Okidi and Ronald definitely dragged their feet but they still did an awesome job. Flida and I took a boda-boda to the craft market because I needed a few more gifts, Cliff was in his village all day. After lunch the power went out so we walked to the football field, Prosey took us on a ‘shot cut’. This ‘shot cut’ involved hiking up two super steep hills in the mud (it had rained during lunch) in the baking sun and ending up at the market near the country club. So we had to back track a quarter mile to the field. Pretty sure that’s not the definition of a ‘short cut’. Eric was very concerned that I would not be able to climb the hills and offered several times to either carry me or get a stretcher and put me on it. I assured him that even thought I had shin splints like nobodies business, I wasn’t going to break. We played a small game of football, Stephen and I’s team won, though Eric will deny it. And before anyone gets impressed that I played football, I pretty much shuffled around the field and purposefully got in Eric, Isaac and Cranma’s way so Stephen and Okidi could steal the ball. Prosey wanted to take her ‘short cut’ back but we all put out foot down and went the regular way that took half as long. We all hung out/played outside until dinner was ready. I had everyone draw me a picture while there was still light out, some of the boys are really good with a pencil. After we all showered in the dark, obviously not together ;), we converged in the living room to watch a movie on my lap top before bed. Just as we sat down on the couch the power came back on! </span></span></div>
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These boys are incredible, the house has been filled with so much laughter and noise! They are so sweet, ridiculously funny and are thirsty to learn. Ronald drew this awesome design on his arm the other day that I fell in love with (read as next tattoo, which makes three new ones when I get back… Don’t tell my mother ;) Spending the week with the boys has been such a privilege for me, and I’m so thankful I have gotten to know them. I’m only sad that I’ve only been able to spend such a short time with them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But, the best part of the day was when Cliff came back from the village at about 7. Okidi pulled me aside and asked me to ask Cliff if it would be ok if they boys took me to the airport next week. I choked up and asked Cliff. We’re supposed to have the girls here Friday night, and there isn’t room for all the girls and boys at the house. But Cliff and I think we worked it out so the boys will spend Friday night at the house and come up Cliff to take me to the airport. Cliff asked everyone who was going to miss me and they all started talking at once; ‘I’m going to miss her from here to the moon’, ‘I don’t want her to go’, ‘I want her to stay.‘. I nearly started bawling and had to change the subject. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow we take the boys back to the ghetto :’( and spend one last day with the kids. We’re going to walk around the ghetto, visit some of the kid and women’s houses and say good by to the kids. </span></span></div>
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Stephen, Ronald and Okidi </div>
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Team building game with a hula hoop</div>
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Human knot</div>
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Isaac</div>
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Cranma</div>
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Stephen</div>
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Cliff</div>
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Okidi</div>
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Ronald</div>
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Stephen had one flip flop, one bare foot and kicked everyones butt</div>
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Keep away </div>
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Hand ball </div>
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Me and ma boys</div>
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Notice the dirt on my back? That's from earting it, hard</div>
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Ronald and Okidi </div>
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Stephen and I </div>
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Eric hard at work </div>
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Cranma concentrating </div>
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Otim</div>
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Ronald and I </div>
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Isaac with his patched shirt and bag</div>
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Ronald eating jackfruit </div>
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Stephen </div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-84312022023494655692014-01-08T23:17:00.001+07:002014-01-08T23:17:08.906+07:00Xp<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you've been wondering where I've been for the last three days and what I've been doing...<br />
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I've been teaching cats how to sew, hearding them around the house/compound, teaching three kids four different things at once, teaching the cats how to wobble and two step and have been having a blast.<br />
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The house is filled to the brim with boys, laughter and NOISE!!!<br />
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Hopfully I'll have some time to explain in detail and put up the few pics I've been able to snag. </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-49903499878726468022014-01-07T21:15:00.000+07:002014-01-07T21:15:18.990+07:00Sewing vs patience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sewing=1, patience= -29738463878237847384728347283742878324827.5<br />
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This is stupid. I remember why I stopped sewing as a kid, its a pain in the ass.<br />
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I've been fighting with the stupid machine since 3 and Eric just now started ONE side of his bag -.- the kids may need to stay two weeks just to get these flipping bags finished. </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-84748033262362852622014-01-07T00:09:00.002+07:002014-01-07T00:09:30.204+07:00A message from Lilian <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx2vPrG44xynIHlPvVcaILw-ts-9kxZ2JLITiY8uryBN60fNT1CWCUXcC2zUwCR0FRlTfQ1ziXP9SCK73PCGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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She's a little hard to understand, and the neighbor had his music way too loud. I typed up what Lilian said, the best I could hear;<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">For me, Lilian. I am asking for prayer requests. Let those people from America pray for us, to let God open up his will for us. Because where we are now, they are saying the owner needs the land (as in the people who ‘own’ the land (( no one seems to be able to prove they own the land)) are taking the land away from the people living there). So where are we going to start from (where are we going to go)? Let them pray for us, for God to open……. Because here, we have the project (the Jeremiah women's group), we are being supported. And if we are sent away from here, we’re going to lose all that support. You see, we will lose that support. Our children, our mothers, the youth. We will be cut out and stranded. Let them pray for us and open the way. Thank you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Please pray for these women and their families. If you're not the praying type, send them some good ju ju, some happy thoughts. They don't ask for anything but your prayers. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I want to say thank you to Sally and Bernie for providing the bible books that we used in today's meeting, the women really enjoyed reading this particular book and were thrilled with the pictures! </span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-43295367724279007222014-01-06T13:24:00.000+07:002014-01-06T13:25:57.429+07:00Machine Gun Preacher <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On Thursday Cliff and I were talking about our meeting with the women last Monday and I commented on how hard it was to hear their stories and how hard it was for me to imagine growing up the way they did. Cliff told me he also experienced some of the things the women went through when he was young. His village is in west Uganda and wasn't hit as hard by the rebels as people in the north, but he said he'd be woken up in the middle of the night by gun fire, he and his brother would would skirt dead bodies on their way to school. His father kept guns under the bed and told Cliff and his brother if there was ever an attack they were to grab a gun and start shooting, to defend their family and home.<br />
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It's very difficult to wrap your brain around an 8 year old being told to 'grab a gun and defend your family and home', it goes against everything about my upbringing. Cliff could see that I was struggling to really see what had happened to these women and told me when I got home to watch a move called Machine Gun Preacher. I wasn't able to watch it till Saturday night, but wow.<br />
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If you want to know a little more about what these women went through growing up I suggest you watch it. Even if you don't, I still suggest you watch this movie. It was a very moving film, its hard to watch so bring some tissues. While I was watching it, I made some notes about what I saw in the film and what I heard talking to the women and I would like to share.<br />
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Machine Gun Preacher is about a man named Sam Childers who finds God and goes to northern Uganda and southern Sudan to help the children. Joseph Kony puts a price on his head, his orphanage is burned to the ground, and he is continuously attacked but he sticks it out knowing what hes doing is all these kids have.<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">In the opening scene of this movie, where people are being thrown from their beds in the middle of the night, machine guns going off left and right, men yelling, pushing and shoving, do you see those kids? Those are the women that I’ve been working with on Mondays, their kids come to the Saturday program. I know the movie said this was happening in southern Sudan, but it was also happening in northern Uganda, to the members of the Acholi tribe, to the people I’ve come to know and love. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The bits and pieces Marry, Eunice, Lilian and the others told me about their lives on the first Monday we met was about experiencing the things in this first scene. The women were forced to watch as their parents were first beaten savagely and then beheaded, some were even ordered to execute their own mother and father. No one was spared, women, children, men, they were either killed or abducted. Their homes were burned to the ground, their animals tortured and killed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Cliff told me about how the rebels, under Kony’s orders would cut off people’s lips, ears, fingers. I shuddered at the thought, how could anyone order people to cut the lips off another human being? The scene in this movie with the woman missing her lips caused me to burst into tears of rage. The injustice of it all burns a fire through me. That fire went out suddenly and it was replaced by a sour taste in my mouth, my stomach churned uncomfortably as I thought of my childhood. While these women were being treated less like a person and more like a dog, I was sitting pretty and safe, with a nice roof over my head, all the food I could possibly eat, more toys then I ever really needed and a tremendous amount of love from my parents. Now, I didn't have a choice as to where I was born, or the kind of environment I was brought up in. But that couldn't keep the gnawing guilt away. I put my hand over the back of my left shoulder, where the words 'theres always something to be thankful for' are written on my skin in Telugu, and counted all the blessings in my life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After seeing this movie, I am even more determined to do everything in my power to help these women and their children, to do what ever it takes to bring them a bit of happiness and let them know that they matter. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">If there is one thing you take away from all of these posts, let it be to remember to be thankful. Be thankful for the healthy blood pumping through your heart, for the food on your table, for the love of the people around you. Not everyone is given these luxuries. Don't just cherish these luxuries, share them with people who don't have them. You don't have to travel to Uganda, Africa or Hyderabad, India or Nang Rong Thailand, there are people in your state who need help. They live in the same city that you do, they might even live down the street. We all have something to give, but I think many of us don't make the time to do so. Make time. You only get one life, you're only on this earth for a short time. Make that time and life count. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Give to your local food bank</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Volunteer at a near by shelter</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Give that person on the street corner a granola bar, a smile and a kind word. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Adopt a pet from a shelter. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Adopt a child who doesn't have someone to love and take care of them. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">There is always something to be thankful for. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Share the love. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Help make this world a better place. </span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-14206472028171541212014-01-05T00:59:00.002+07:002014-01-05T00:59:36.819+07:002nd Saturday <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">WOW! What an fantastic day!! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Cliff picked me up at 8 and we drove to the ghetto, a bunch of the youth boys met us and helped carry the basket of medical supplies down to the community center. The kids were a little late so Cliff, the boys and I hung out outside the building as the little ones trickled in. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We had a lot more kids this Saturday than the last Saturday. Cliff started the kids off with some songs, I walked around with my camera filming the, mostly, smiling and singing faces. This week the kids had more questions for me and were a little less shy around me. </span></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxLQn9M4KVr0JE5V8aBcllNDKwb9PvZs2fTMe7nR2H-TUUSnkILqIrkcDXplsvf-qHsPYRdy9SfpZedOhiavA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After they quieted down Cliff explained that I was going to tell and act out a story. I gathered up two goats, some towns people and started telling the story of the girl who cried wolf. The youth boys did an excellent job of mehing like goats and trotting around on the floor. The kids howled with laughter as I ran the towns people up and down to help my goats that were being eaten by a wolf. On the third time I called for help, when the wolf really was eating my goats (with gusto I might add) and they wouldn’t come, I asked the kids why the towns people wouldn’t help me. I had the biggest smile on my face as they all shouted “because you lied the first two times!!” back at Cliff and I. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Like last time, I went to the back of the room to get high fives, fist bumps and hugs as the youth boys and Cliff herded everyone into a line for their porridge. Cliff asked for my camera and took some pictures for me. </span></span></div>
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And I got a kiss :) </div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I squeezed outside and took pictures of the kids getting their porridge. Most of you don’t know, but this cup of millet porridge is the only meal most of the kids will get today. Lillian usually passes out the porridge, unfortunately her uncle passed away yesterday and she left today to go to the village to go to the funeral and wont be back until Monday. </span></span></div>
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Josephine helps pass out porridge</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When the kids had been fed it was time to snap on some gloves and play doctor. I had a lot more patients this time, 7-8 I think. Most of the injuries were burns and were pretty bad, I had to peel off dead skin, squeeze puss out, and pick out chunks of dirt off of legs, feet and arms. I gave the camera to one of the youth boys and they took some pictures for me. </span></span></div>
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This little one got burned </div>
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He got hit by a boda boda</div>
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I had to squeeze puss out of this one >p</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After everyone had been seen to, Cliff and the boys took me on a walk through the ghetto. Unfortunately I forgot to charge my battery last night (I was so pissed at myself) and it died right after I the first picture of where we were walking. Cliff took me to the stone quarry where the women crush granite into chunks to sell to people from the city sometimes. As we were walking back we passed by a woman frying cassava, sweet potatoes and banana cakes. I bought each of the boys a snack and took a banana cake for myself. It. Was. Delicious! It tasted like banana bread, but a little more chewy. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After the ghetto Cliff took me to lunch at the same place we went last time. Instead of getting the smoked beef and bean paste, I got chicken and potatoes steamed in a banana leaf and boy was it good! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m anxiously waiting for Monday when I get to teach the women how to use the sewing machines and pick up the 7 boys who’ll be staying at the house for the week. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-38234444187116761422014-01-04T02:39:00.002+07:002014-01-04T02:39:53.096+07:00Friday, Funday <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Today was a super awesome day! Here’s why;</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1.) The girls and I went to the craft market again since it was Friday. I got 95% of my shopping finished today which makes me really happy because I looove buying cool stuff for my friends and family (y’all are going to love what I’m bringing back ;). I bought everything from Tomi and Cliff’s friend Gilbert, they’ve known him for a long time. He’s got some really incredible stuff for sale and he has the cheapest prices of anyone at the market. And he was SUPER nice. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2.) I went to this awesome place known as the office of the king of the Buganda tribe. Unfortunately he wasn’t in, other wise Cliff assured me I would have been able to meet him (how cool would that have been?!) because I’m a muzungu and did something really special as explained below. </span></span></div>
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In front of the office</div>
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The first king of Buganda </div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But since he wasn’t in, so I got this instead! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It’s a certificate saying I am an official supporter of the Bugandan tribe, the king, the people, and the land. Basically, they think I’m the coolest person ever because I like Kampala so much and donated 10,000 shillings (5 bucks) to the tribe/king/government and wanted to give me a certificate. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3.) I got to meet Ronnie, a 300 year old tortoise that is very special to the Bugandan tribe. Ronnie’s mate died two years ago and was supposedly 700 years old. Now, I don’t really know why Ronnie and her mate are so special, the two guys taking care of her didn’t know and Cliff couldn’t remember. But the first king of Buganda (the statue of the guy in the picture above with me) brought them all the way from the Mediterranean sea, Cliff said something about the tortoises saving the king but again, couldn’t really remember the whole story. Anyway, Ronnie is super special and they keep her very well hidden, when we first drove up, one of her caretakers told Cliff both tortoises had died. Then he saw me and changed his story, proudly leading us around back to her pen. We bought a bunch of bananas to try and tempt her out of the water, but I think it was a bit too hot for her liking and she refused to eat the snack and get out of the water. Not a lot of people, Ugandan or muzungu, know about Ronnie and she’s isn’t put on display, which I think is a huge mistake, the king could be making a lot of money off of Ronnie if he’d put her in a proper habitat and charge people to come in and see her with literature on her story and why she’s special to the Buganda tribe, but that’s just me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4.) Cliff showed me this beautiful fabric he bought from Tanzania, he’s got about 12 meters of each fabric and is looking to sell it for 45,000 shillings, or ($20). If you are interested in buying a bolt of fabric, or know someone who might be interested, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!! I’ll have room in my suitcase to bring it back. The fabric is gorgeous and very traditional pattering for Uganda, Tanzania and another country that I’ve forgotten ;) If you have any questions, let me know! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5.) I get to go to the ghetto tomorrow and see the kids!!!!! I’m beyond excited. Some of the youth, Cliff, Josephine and I will be doing a skit on the girl who cried wolf for the little ones. It’s going to be awesome. Cliff is also going to walk me around the ghetto, take me to some of the women’s homes and see where the kids live. It’s going to be a great day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6.) I’m finally starting to feel better, I was able to be out’n’about today without withering in pain, as I’ve been doing for the last few days. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-42187369652921775682014-01-02T16:17:00.002+07:002014-01-02T16:17:33.289+07:00Washing Clothes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Happy belated new year everyone! I’ve been feeling under the weather for the last few days and so not much has happened since going to the ghetto on Monday. Tuesday the girls and I stayed up until 11:45 and Cliff picked the girls up to take them to the top of the hill we live on which has a spectacular view of the whole city to see all the fireworks. I watched the fireworks from the back patio for a few minutes before crashing. Cliff picked the girls up around 3 yesterday and took them to a resort on lake Victoria so they could swim, play soccer and hang out, I had a whomping migraine and stayed in the quiet house resting, which did me a lot of good because I’m feeling much better today. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The weather has been cold and rainy for the last three days (part of the reason I’ve been feeling crappy I think) and I put off doing laundry until this morning, I’m down to a pair shorts (which I can’t wear out of the compound), a skirt, and a tank top. So I got up this morning and decided to wash clothes right after my shower. I go to turn on the light in the bathroom…...nothing. The power is out -.- which means I have to either wait until tomorrow to use the washing machine, which would mean I wouldn’t have clean clothes until Friday night and would have to recycle something in the dirty pile for Friday and possibly Saturday if the rain keeps up, or I could wash the massive load of clothes by hand and have clean clothes tomorrow. If you know me at all, I cringe and shudder at the idea of recycling dirty cloth and only do it if <i>absolutely</i> necessary. So I hauled pretty much my entire wardrobe to the court yard and dumped them on the floor. Prosey senior was washing the girls clothes and was glad to have some company, Calvin came skipping over to me as I squatted in front of my tub of water, armed with a hunk of soap. He smile and immediately squatted on the other side of the tub and started moving the dirty clothes into the tub to be washed. He chatted causally as we washed my clothes, it was a little unsettling to have a four year old washing my underwear, but he didn’t seem to care. During the first wash (we washed everything twice and rinsed it thrice) he narrowed his eyes as I scrubbed a pair of bermuda shorts and spoke sharply to me, his mother laughed and wiped soap from her forehead. “What did he say?” I asked. She laughed some more as she leaned over her tub of clothes, “he said you don’t wash clothes the right way.” I laughed with her and looked at Calvin’s hands. I was washing the material against the knuckles of my free hand, he was washing the material against its self (as Grace did when she helped me with my laundry during my first week). I nudged him and adjusted my technique to suit him, he smiled and gave me an approving nod and let me continue to wash my clothes. He got a little over excited with the bar of soap which is why we had to rinse everything three times and then hung them up to dry. I wasn’t the only one to wait until the last minute to wash clothes, the girls also had an impressive load and the clothes line which is 15 yards long with 5 lines of wire is pretty much full of drip drying clothes. Let me tell you, my hands, wrists and forearms are SO sore from wringing everything out, if you need to work out your forearms, do your laundry in the tub for a month or two. Yeesh. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Today is going to be a busy day, I’m putting together an itinerary for the boys, Grace is going to help with the bible study in the mornings, Filda and Prosey are going to help with the baking after lunch, Cliff and I will take the boys to the soccer field down the street, I’ll be doing the sewing project with them, both by hand and with machine, a creative writing assignment or two and camp games/songs in the evening before bed. I’ll post the schedule when I’m finished with it, I’m getting really really excited to have all the kids here for a few days. I also have to figure out how to work the sewing machines as I’ve never used a peddle powered one before. Should be fun! </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-89343612685803159832013-12-30T23:57:00.000+07:002013-12-30T23:57:30.467+07:00The womens group <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Cliff and I were supposed to go to the ghetto on Saturday to see the kids, but we got a call from Lilian (a woman who lives in the ghetto who helps organize the kids and both programs) saying there were only a handful of kids there, most of them were at their villages. So we didn’t go, which was a bummer :( I was sick on Sunday with a pretty bad migraine, so it was a pretty blah weekend. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But, today Cliff picked me up and took me to the ghetto to meet with the women. We were there for three hours and I had an incredible time. Instead of jumping right into a structured lesson/class, I spent three hours getting to know the six women who came. I told them about myself and what I do in Austin, about my family and my interests and in turn they told me about their lives and families. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The stuff we talked about was really heavy stuff, I nearly dissolved into tears several times. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it and process it all, and I’m completely exhausted. So, I’m not going to dive into the sticky stuff today, but I will gladly show you some pictures!! </span></span></div>
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The ghetto, and Cliff's nose!</div>
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Yja Yja (grandma) Josephine and I </div>
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Lilian giving me a paper necklace</div>
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My Ugandan mother</div>
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Cliff, the women and I </div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-17711719130767786682013-12-28T22:34:00.001+07:002013-12-28T22:34:10.665+07:00Traditions <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In keeping with tradition, I had to eat something weird while in Uganda. Most of the dinning choice I've had thus far have been pretty normal, much to my disappointment. But tonight I had two unusual things that I had not yet tried.<br />
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The girls and I had fish for dinner again tonight, Esther, Prosy, Filda and I were sitting laughing after putting food on our plates and I happened to look at Esther's plate. She had chosen one of the heads (Filda had the head last night) and its mouth was open. Did you know fish have tongues? I politely asked Esther if she was going to eat the tongue, the answer to which was a very strange look. Taking that as I no, I asked if I could have it. With a nod I picked up the head from her plate and put it on my own, with a fork I held the mouth open and with a spoon I scooped out the tongue before handing the head back. It was a bit on the slimy side, and it had the consistency of fat.<br />
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Dinner progressed, I was sitting next to Eron who had the other head and asked if she was going to eat the brain. She shrugged and said she didn't know what it looked like. She had eaten the majority of the meat off the top of the head and I asked if I could have a look. I picked up her head and started prodding at it; during the cooking process both the eyes on this fish had come loose but the empty sockets remained. (Side story: Esther was very happy to eat her fish eyes but only ate the inner part of the eye, leaving the socket. I picked it up to have a look and found a long piece of white, string-like muscle attached to it. "This is where it attaches to the brain!" I was pretty grossed out, but it served as a reference point to finding the brain in Eron's fish) I gently pulled at the socket until I found the attachment muscle and gently tugged at it. A piece of dark meat wriggled as I pulled, I had a feeling when I first saw it that it was the brain but now I was reasonably sure. A small piece of the brain broke off as I detached it from the rest of the head and handed it back to Eron so I popped it back in my mouth.<br />
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So I can add fish tongue and brain to my ever growing list of unusual foods :D </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-13081554557070664402013-12-27T22:29:00.000+07:002013-12-27T22:29:09.117+07:00Fish. It's whats for dinner! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The girls, Calvin, Cliff and I went down to lake Victoria today to buy some tilapia for dinner. It was an abysmally hot day, but there was a nice breeze down by the water. Cliff pulled me aside as we were walking up to the fish stands and said if the guys selling the fish saw me, they would jack the price of the fish up. So the girls, Calvin and I went to the edge of the pier and took pictures. I asked Filda how big the lake is, she told me huge. It touches three countries in Africa, Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania. So, its pretty big. The girls and I share a love for tilapia and since fish is pretty expensive they don't get to have it very often so it was a nice treat for all of us.<br />
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Cliff and I are going to the ghetto tomorrow, we'll be doing a lesson on lying. I have a skit of the boy who cried wolf to do and have some of the youth help me act out the story while Cliff translates for me.<br />
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Hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas! </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-88965025174518169942013-12-27T12:23:00.001+07:002013-12-28T22:36:03.246+07:00Questions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tomi read the post with the questions and was able to give some better answers than I was. Here is what she said;<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">KIK is working towards building a self-sustaining village to relocate the people from the slums so they do have a place to go. All efforts in 2014 will be used for this. We don't want them to be scattered or go live on the streets or in the bushes of Northern Uganda where they came from. The war was perpetrated by the Lord's Resistance Army, lead by Joseph Kony. He was the one that abducted over 22,000 children and turned them into soldiers. Most of the child soldiers have grown up and escaped. These are the families (mostly the women) of the Banda Acholi Quarters Slum that you are working in. Most of the youth and kids you work with in the slums mother's were abducted at one time or another. Now they are grown up, living with PTSD and trying to survive. They were kicked out of their homes in the north because of war and they are about to be displaced once again - that's why the village is so important. We need a few thousand more $'s to finish buying a 10 acre parcel about 40k outside of Kampala and about 5,000 dollars more needed to put in a well once we have the land. Architectural plans have already been drawn - we are in the needing finances to put in the well and start building so that we can start the relocation process for these people.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The country club - you are 2.5k from the MCC (Makindye Country Club) and you are living outside of Kampala in Makindye - Luwafu.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just thought I'd give you some info on that. Oh - the building inside is only 10x14 if you count it off and Cliff said you only had about 200 kids there the past week. The slums are 8k outside Kampala city limits and there are 50,000 people living in an approximate 30 acre radius</span></span></div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-52868299579537477522013-12-26T23:18:00.001+07:002013-12-26T23:18:57.587+07:00Boxing Day <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Everyone is still in a food coma from yesterday. We had SO much food for Christmas and it was all delicious. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The girls and I slept until 10 this morning and vegged on the couch and watched a movie. It was beastly hot today, we all hid the living room with the curtains drawn, windows and doors thrown open wide. Cliff came by and said he’d drive us all the to pool, and we all jumped at the chance to escape the heat. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There is a country club about three miles, maybe two, or a 30 minute walk, from the house that the girls are a member of and they have a pool. So he dropped us off and gave us money for a taxi home. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We had a lot of fun at the pool, I taught the girls how to play chicken, marco polo and how to dive. Esther and Eron jumped off my shoulders like my dad used to do it me, we had a blast. And I got some sun! I’ve been looking a bit pasty since the weather turned some what cold in Austin. We swam and tanned for two hours before getting dressed and heading back to the house. I wanted to ride a boda-boda (a motorcycle taxi), so Eron rode with me and the other girls piled into a taxi. The boda-boda ride was fun, I had ridden on one in Thailand but this was different. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Eron and I got back first and went across the street to the shop to get a soda, and guess what they have… Coke in glass bottles!! I think it’s the coolest thing ever and the girls thought I was crazy :) </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All in all a pretty good day. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-24942191296614912442013-12-26T14:05:00.004+07:002013-12-26T14:05:30.833+07:00Questions, <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here are some questions people have asked; </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-I'm not sure how slum areas are formed---I'm guessing destitute people gather to try to help each other survive?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-The slum looks like an extension of the city, like a neighborhood. The houses are very small, one room, and have tin roofs. There are vegetable stands and shops that sell clothing, so its very different than the slum in India. The people in the ghetto came from the north of Uganda years ago when there was a war (I don’t know the specifics of the war) and traveled to Kampala to escape the war. Most people are from the north, but there are others who are from different parts of the country. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-How many days do you go to be with the children? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-I go to the ghetto every Saturday and spend most of the day with the kids. However, since they are on summer vacation we will be bringing a handful of them up to Tomi’s house to spend a few days with me learning how to sew, bake and other crafts. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-How do they get to the building?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-The building we meet at on Saturdays is in the ghetto, the kids walk (sometimes up to 2 miles) to come to Saturday class. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-Is the building a large room?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-The building is small rectangle, maybe 10 feet wide and 40 feet long. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-I gather from the looks of Tomi's home that it is a very large house---not in the slum area?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A- Yes, Tomi lives in Kampala, about a 30 minute drive to the ghetto. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-Do you know the name of the village where you are?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-I’m not in a village, I am in Kampala which is the capitol city of Uganda. The ghetto is on the outskirts of the city. The closest village is 20 kilometers, or a 45 minute drive away. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-How do the kids get the liquor? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-The boys Cliff told me about get the beer from their mother who is also an alcoholic. Cliff made it sound like its not hard for the kids to get a hold of alcohol. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-Where did the people that were evicted from the slum go </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-We don’t know where they went. When/if our slum inhabitants get evicted, Cliff thinks many of them will go back to their villages up north. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-Where do they come from</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-Many people are from the Acholi tribe, located in the northern part of Uganda. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Q-What is the gov't going to do with the land</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A-Develop it. The ghetto is sitting on ‘prime property’ as Cliff says. There is a private contractor who is building a very large, very nice house in the ghetto right now. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-77950534873542022602013-12-25T01:05:00.003+07:002013-12-25T01:05:29.312+07:00Christmas Eve<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I am feeling so, unexplainably blessed to be spending Christmas and ringing in the new year with such wonderfully kind, incredible people. My family and friends have been so supportive and encouraging, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for their love and support. I’m not sure what exactly I did to deserve all these blessing but I am truly and deeply thankful. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful for the opportunities I’ve had to travel and see the world. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful for all the incredible people I’ve met, all of whom have changed my life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful for my family, who love me no matter what, and who are selfless enough to share me with another family, another culture and another country for the holidays. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful for my friends, who have been by my side every step of the way.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful for my new Ugandan family, who welcomed me, a complete stranger, into their home with open arms and smiles. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m thankful to be young and alive. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The stars are beautiful tonight, make sure you go outside and appreciate the beauty of the world we live in for a few minutes before turning in. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I hope everyone is having a fabulous and safe Christmas eve and I wish you a very merry Christmas. Make sure you tell those around you that you love them, celebrate responsibly, give thanks for all of your blessings, and give to someone who is not having such a merry Christmas. Be sure to spread the love and kindness today and tomorrow, for tis the season, make the most of it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Lots of love, </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">-Manda Panda</span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-50065419556724776702013-12-22T19:15:00.001+07:002013-12-25T01:05:45.355+07:00All I want for Christmas is, <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A Red Ryder BB Gun, and I'll tell you why.<br />
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Every morning since I've been here, there is a monstrous rooster who apperently is new at this whole crowing thing. Every morning at 3:30 sharp he starts crowing. And he'll crow and crow and crow for about thirty minutes before realizing its stupid early and then he'll go back to sleep.<br />
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3:30.<br />
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In the morning.<br />
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Every morning.<br />
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Without fail.<br />
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-.-<br />
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I will get him. And I'll get him good. </div>
Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-39637359601838681042013-12-22T00:29:00.004+07:002013-12-25T01:06:00.105+07:00The Ghetto <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">*Warning, there is a paragraph in this post that is <i>extremely</i> hard to read. I can’t prepare you for what happened today, except to tell you to be ready. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clifford picked me up at 8 this morning and we drove to the ghetto to work with the kids, as we were driving we got into a traffic jam. It was early and Clifford couldn’t think of why traffic was so slow on a Saturday. A big truck moved from in front of us and we saw police cars blocking off a street and men in yellow shirt (I was told they were city officials) directing traffic. Turns out the government was evicting people from a slum (not the slum KIK is working in). They were far down the street, but I could see a large mass of people standing with police officers with guns standing in front of them. Later on we drove by two large plots, one was fenced off by barbed wire, the other had large metal slats blocking it off. Clifford told me these plots were also slums that had been evicted recently. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was looking out Clifford’s window as we were driving, there was a large hill with tin roof houses in large clusters. “That’s the ghetto,” Clifford said. My jaw dropped, I had a very different picture in my head when Tomi had told me she worked in the ghetto of Uganda. I guess after working in a slum in India I had this stereotypical idea of what a ghetto or slum looked like and boy, was I wrong. The ghetto didn’t look all that different than the city, a little more run down and crumbly but I don’t think I would have guessed it to be the ghetto if Clifford hadn’t told me that it was. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We drove for a few miles before Clifford stopped the car on the side of the road and parked it. A woman came around the car and started started speaking to Clifford, he said the woman was one of the participants in the women's group I will meet in a few Mondays. A few kids came running up, offered shy smiles and helped carry the basket of medical supplies. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The kids jabbered excitedly as we walked a little was through the houses and shops selling veggies and clothes. We navigated down a steep hill and I saw a group of kids sitting in front of the community building, a woman bustling over two large pans of millet (a porridge the kids get at the end of their lesson). Clifford lead me over to the woman and introduced me to Vivian, the woman who lived in the ghetto and helped organize the Saturday and Monday programs. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A handful of the youths helped usher the little kids in and sat them on benched. My eyes continued to widen as more and more kids spilled into this tiny, rectangle room. Soon the benches were full and the kids started sitting on the floor. Each child had a plastic mug clutched tightly in a small fist. As the kids were taking their seats, Clifford told me how this was going to work since the younger kids do not speak English. I would talk and teach in English and he would translate into Luganda. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As more kids were spilling in, Cliff pulled two boys from the bench and lead them outside, motioning that I should follow them. He put the kids against a wall away from the door and turned to me, his face was pulled down with sorrow. “These boys,” he struggled to find the right words to tell me. “you know Amanda. These boys have already started drinking.” Tears stung my eyes and I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. Clifford went on to tell me that the boys had come to the Saturday class drunk before, how the older of the two had been blackout drunk before. My ears rang, and I prayed that I was hallucinating, unfortunately I wasn't. I asked Cliff how old the boys were, the little one was 5 and his older brother 8. My heart broke in two right then. I squatted down and told both boys how bad alcohol was for you and the effect it would have on their bodies if they kept drinking. Tears sprung into the older ones eyes as Cliff translated, the little one stared at me. I smiled the best I could and asked if I could have a hug. The little one surprised me and threw his arms around my neck, I squeezed him tight with one arm and pulled his older brother in with the other one. I held the two of them for a long moment, praying as hard as I could to whom ever was listening that these boys quit drinking and for someone to love them properly. I let the boys go and they scampered back into the room, I had to take several deep breaths and steady myself before I could follow. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When the room was unbelievably full, 70 ish kids (though I am told the room is packed with another 40 on most Saturdays) Clifford started the kids off with a couple of songs. Bright white teeth glimmered, eyes sparkled as high voice shouted enthusiastically in time with Clifford’s clapping hands. As the kids sang, they watched me stand at the front of the room, a few of them returned the smile I gave them, others looked away quickly, pretending they weren’t looking at me. There was a young girl sitting in the front row, she was maybe 6 years old and she had a baby girl sitting in her lap. As soon as the baby saw me, she started bawling. The young girl turned her around so her back was to me and she stopped crying, this went on for the whole lesson. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When all of the kids were seated Clifford told me I could start. I was suuuuuuuper nervous, I’ve had the jitters ever since I bought my ticket and I wasn’t really sure what I was so nervous about. I stuffed my hands in my front pockets and addressed the kids, “Hi guys (voice cracks). My name is Amanda, and I (voice cracks again) live in Austi(squeak).” I trailed off, my heart pounding and sheepishly let Clifford finish my sentence in Luganda. I told the kids the agenda for the day, a quick talk about gossiping and a game. While Cliff translated the kids stared solemnly at me and I had an idea. “Raise your hand if you like the color blue.” Hands hesitantly crept up above the kids heads after Cliff asked the question. “Who’s favorite color is green?” More hands rose. “Who’s favorite color is blue?” I asked. Some of the older kids waved their hands excitedly. By the time I asked them who had brothers and who had sisters the kids were smiling and laughing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Satisfied I had broken the very thick ice, I told the kids they could ask me five questions. When Cliff told them this, the smiles disappeared and lips tucked into pouts. Cliff joked and coaxed the stoney faces for about five minutes before turning to the youths for help. The older kids asked why I came to Uganda, why I cared what their favorite colors were, what my favorite food was. By the time I was done answering their questions everyone was feeling a little more comfortable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After the Q and A I asked the kids to raise their hand of they knew what gossiping was and who thought it was bad, who thought it was good. All of the kids knew what gossiping was and the general consensus was that gossiping was bad. With the help of a few of the youth kids I demonstrated how talking about someone, even if it was about something good, could turn into something negative. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Once the kids understood I had them play telephone, again showing them how a person can say one thing, and by the time a fifth person says it, it is something completely different. The kids were amazed as the sentences from the telephone came out different. The kids were starting to get restless and I knew they were hungry so I ended the lesson. As one of the youth kids was leading the prayer I quickly told Cliff to tell the kids that I if they wanted to, they could come up and give me a high five, a hug, a fist bump (fist bumping is big here), or a hand shake. Cliff told me to stand near the back of the room so the door way wouldn't get too congested. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As soon as the kids were dismissed, the ones nearest me leaped up and crowded around me, holding up hands, tugging on my shirt. Two little ones were still sitting on the floor and I quickly jerked them to their feet, least they get stepped on. The kids giggled, smiled, and laughed as I gave out high fives and fist bumps left and right. After a few minutes the little one who I had a talk to outside pushed through the sea of kids surrounding me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned down and hugged him back, pinching his cheeks affectionately. After that a few of the braver kids came up with arms out stretched and gave some hugs. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After the room was cleared of the young kids the handful of youths come in for medical treatment. Cliff was putting on some gloves and asked if I was any good at bandaging wounds, this is one time I’m really thankful I have first aid training from working at the pool. I snapped on a pair of gloves and cleaned out gooey cuts, slathered neosporen on and finished with a bandaid. Most of the youth kids were home in their villages so we didn’t meet with them. We did tell them that during the week after Christmas Tomi has given permission for a handful of them to come to the house and do arts and crafts with me. The kids are excited, but I don’t think they are as excited as I am to spend some more time with them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Needless to say today was a very emotional day and I’ve just now really been able to process everything that happened. My head is still reeling from the two little boys and the trouble they are getting into at such a young age. But, I’m excited to go back next week and to meet with the women. </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-80164554150122457342013-12-21T20:02:00.001+07:002013-12-21T20:02:05.493+07:00Update!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, I kinda used up all my internet by Thursday night and just got it refilled (the amount I got lasts Clifford a month), whoops. I’m limiting myself to 30 minutes a day and will only be up loading a few pictures because it takes up too much time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve realized I haven't really talked about what I’ve been doing every day since Monday, I’ve only given bits and pieces. I’ve been spending my days mostly at the house with the girls and Calvin or running errands and seeing Kampala with Clifford. At the house, I usually play with Calvin, or hang out with the girls. We’ve made friendship bracelets, cleaned the house, done some cooking, washed laundry. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On Wednesday Clifford took me early in the morning to the market to get veggies and rice for the week. That was a lot of fun, very different than the Thai market. Here, all the veggies are sitting on tarps on the ground. I saw women carrying large baskets on their heads and men hunched over with a sack of 100lbs of potatoes slung over their back.There were soooo many people there, but Clifford said it was actually a slow day because a lot of people have gone back to their villages for Christmas.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve learned that Uganda is a Christian country. Christianity is the major religion here, I was a little surprised when I found this out. There are Christmas lights all over the place, fake Christmas trees for sale in the shops, and everyone wishes you a merry Christmas when they stop and talk. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On Thursday I washed clothes with Grace, again different than when I did it in Thailand. The girls in Thailand sat on stools and used brushes to wash their clothes, Grace leaned over a bucket of water and used nothing but her hands. After she showed me how to do it, she finished washing her clothes and then came back to help me with the rest of mine. (Grace is probably the sweetest of the 5, though all 5 are charming and sweet). I would wring out a shirt and go to ring it up when Grace would take it from me and wring what seemed like another bucket full of water out, her hands are incredibly strong. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Friday was a really fun day. In the morning Cliff took the girls, Calvin and I to the craft market to do some shopping. He had to run into town to go to the postoffice and before he left he told me not to pay the price someone first gave me. “You ask the price, and then tell them you will give them half. You are a muzungu, they will charge you double what the item is worth.” Now, I’m a very placid person, and confrontation of any kind is not my forte and I absolutely quaked at the thought of haggling. The girls all had spending money and Clifford was patting his pockets, looking for some shillings for Calvin but I stopped him. Calvin has me totally and completely wrapped around his finger and I told Clifford to tell Calvin to tell me what he wanted and I would get him something. I was looking at some really wicked bottle openers when he started chattering excitedly and pointing. The woman I was speaking too reached out and picked up this large, heavy wood carving of a gazelle and handed it to me. He looked up at me smiling, clutching it to his chest. I laughed and asked him if that was what he wanted. He looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled (he doesn’t speak any English). The woman was asking 10,000 shillings for each opener, I told her I would give her 8,000. She said no, that 8 was not enough so I told her we’d think about it and come back. We walked around with the girls a bit, ventured off on our own and then Calvin found a drum. I was buying some hair bands when he suddenly grabbed my hand and all but dragged me over to the man while the drums. I picked one up and gave it to Calvin, asking the man how much the drum was. He said 10,000 and again I said that was too much (this was my fourth or fifth transaction and haggling with him didn’t quite get me shaking as badly as the first few times). I got it down to 7,00 and Calvin hasn’t stopped drumming on it since. My favorite purchase was a pair of book ends made out of wood with, wait for it…. Elephants carved into each end. Now, if you know me at all, you know I’m completely in love elephants ever since my trip to Thailand. I’m thrilled and can’t wait to get home and put them up in my living room. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On Friday night Cliff picked all 7 of us up and along with his oldest daughter Kelly, his friend Aileisha and her daughter Sanisha and took us to a Christmas show put on by the Watoto Christian church. The church was founded by Gary Skinner who has done a lot for the Ugandans, put up multiple churches, started children's homes and paid for school for students. We tried to go Thursday night but didn’t get in. The show is free and put on the week before Christmas. On Friday we stood in line, under the hot sun for 2 hours to make sure we got in. When we finally made it into the church we were packed like sardines onto pews in a (what felt like) non air conditioned church. But. I can tell you the wait was totally worth it. This was the <i>best </i>Christmas show I think I have ever seen. The singers and choir were superb, and the dancers were incredible. The one thing that ruined it was the gaggle of girls sitting behind us. If you have to shout over the music to talk to your friend, chances are you’re ruining the show for the people around you. I wanted so badly to turn around and ssh them. We left the church at 7:45 and didn’t get home until 9:30. I will never again complain about traffic in Austin. The van Clifford drives as no ac, that plus the heat makes sitting stationary on a dusty road for 30 minutes very uncomfortable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On Saturday Clifford took me to the ghetto, but that’ll get its own post in a little while. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Let’s see, what else is there to tell…..</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The weather has been nice for the most part. The first few days were perfect, 70 degrees with a light breeze. But the end of the week had hotter days, mid 90s, and a little bit of rain. It’s much less humid than Austin which surprised me, seeing as how Kampala is right on the edge of lake Victoria and the its so hot here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The girls are on their summer vacation, end of November to the first of February, so we get to hang out all day which is really nice. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The food has been wonderful. In the house, rice is the main dish at lunch and dinner, with a ‘sauce’ of meat or beans. I am officially no longer a vegitarian, despite going to a slaughter house after the ghetto (I had to scrub cow and blood off my shoes after >p). I have yet to have tilapia, which is something Uganda is famous for. There is a special peanut paste that is served with the rice and it’s delicious. We’ll have cabbage, spinach or french green beans and cold cucumber, avocado and tomatoes. Clifford and I went out for lunch today and had traditional Ugandan food which was to die for. We had smoked beef and the peanut past that was steamed in a banana leaf over rice, posha which is corn flour mixed with water and also steamed in a banana leaf, banana mashed potatoes (basically bananas mashed to the consistency of mashed potatoes and steamed in a banana leaf), sweet potatoes (which where out of this world) and pumpkin. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve been waking up with terrible allergies, I’m not quite sure what I’m allergic to, or if its just all the dust floating about. We have tea for breakfast and I’ve been loading mine with local honey and that usually keeps the sneezing, running nose to a minimum during the day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clifford is my new best friend. He is the administer for Kids Inspiring Kids and a phenomenal guy. Hes about 30 years old, has two kids and lives with his girlfriend (who is also the mother of his children). He was born in a village to the west. His last name is Casabante which means cow herder, he carries a stick in the truck because every kid in his village is given one and they grow up with sticks. He is very patient with me, answering the hundreds of questions I have for him on an hourly basis. I’ve been learning a ton about Uganda, the people, the language, the tribes, the food, and so on. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Muzungu is a term that has two meanings. The first is, obviously, a person with white skin. We’ll be driving through the neighborhood and kids will run next to the car shouting “muzungu!” and waving at me. It’s not at all a derogatory term and I’ve grown to love it. Calvin started off calling me muzungu, but I asked Filda to tell him to call me Amanda. The second meaning is a person who is doing well, financially. Ugandans will call each other muzungu if they got a particularly large pay check. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Uganda is made up of 70 (I think) tribes. Within each tribe are clans, you CAN NOT marry inside a clan but you can marry inside, or outside, a tribe. Each tribe has defining character traits and physical features. Clifford can tell by looking at someone and hearing them talk which part of the country they are from and which tribe they belong to. Each tribe is ruled by a king, these kings are second under the president but much more loved then the president. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I sleep under a mosquito net (which is an experience) and during the day, even at night, the little pests don’t bother me, which is unusual because I usually attract mosquitos like honey does flies. I did get bitten by one on my second or third night and nearly went into hysterics, positive I had contracted malaria. Obviously, I’m fine :) </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’m sure there’s loads more, but thats all I can think of at present. If y’all have specific questions, or want to know about something PLEASE comment or Facebook me and ask!!! </span></span></div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-64133432832851956792013-12-19T19:38:00.003+07:002013-12-19T19:38:49.735+07:00The house; as seen through the eyes of a 4 year old<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Two stepping with Calvin</div>
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Filda</div>
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Mia</div>
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Lucky</div>
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Calvin, the photographer and Mot the cat</div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-85013623323440792242013-12-19T13:13:00.001+07:002013-12-19T13:13:40.826+07:00Photobooth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I was in Thailand, on my third or fourth night, I was sitting at the table with my laptop when Fai came up to me and wanted to take a picture. I pulled up photobooth and after we took a couple of regular pictures I showed them all the funky lenses, the girls had a ball with them and took well over a fifty pictures. Last night, here in Uganda, was no different. We had just finished eating dinner when Calvin grabbed my hand and started jabbering as he lead me into my room. He looked around and then asked me a question. Eron was walking by and I grabbed her, asking her to translate his question for me. She said he was looking for my computer (Calvin and I had taken pictures and watched Finding Nemo on it earlier). I laughed and took them both into the living room where the other girls were sitting. Calvin was very eager to show them how to take pictures and soon we had a photo shoot going. The girls loved all the different lenses and we had a lot of fun. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Without further ado, here are the wonderfully beautiful girls, and boy, I am living with;</span></span></div>
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Prosey and Calvin</div>
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Front: Calvin, Prosey</div>
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Back: Esther, Eron</div>
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Front: Calvin, Prosey, Grace</div>
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Back: Esther, Eron</div>
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Front: Me, Calvin, Prosey, Eron</div>
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Back: Esther, Filda, Grace</div>
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Front: Me, Calvin, Prosey, Eron</div>
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Back: Esther, Filda, Grace</div>
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Esther, Prosey, Eron, Grace (back)</div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2352328022580326942.post-88660540079540756172013-12-18T17:15:00.003+07:002013-12-18T17:16:26.757+07:00Calvin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Here is a message from this cutie, Calvin. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">He is the 4 year old son of the house keeper and the most adorable little boy ever. He doesn’t speak any English but we get along pretty well, I’m glad he isn’t afraid of me! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">njdshjfhskdjskfjdkfjk..//.,.,,/,, assssssssssssssssssvssssssssssssssssssssssssvssvsssssssssssssssssgeeeeeeeeeeeeesseeeeeee Calvinyy,yyyymmyyyyyymyyymyyyy,yyyyyyyyyyyymyyymyymyymyyyymyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyymiiiiiiu</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;">huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuujjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjljlj∆jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjkjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjljjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjyyyyyyyyyy y nbbbbbnnnnnnbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb bbbbbbbbbb l/lllllll;;ppii;ii?i;i;i;iiiiiiii/i.liii/l.ii mnmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ;;’; </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">fdrtnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm\</span></span></div>
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Photobooth, a hit no matter what country you're in! </div>
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Manda Pandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09864206384944670837noreply@blogger.com0