Well, I apparently got lazy, sorry for the delay.  After arriving at my new home I put a lot of work in trying to keep construction and maintenance in line, as seen by the pictures in my last post.  Things went well enough for a while, but then I started having trouble with the Head Master (principal).

Here is sorta kinda the short break down of how things went more or less.  Fr. Tony is the director of the school.  He is an American Jesuit, lives at the school, does nearly all the fundraising single handed, does his best to continue to interact with the students, tries to keep construction on track, makes plans for where the school is going and keeps a record of where it has been.  In short, Ocer is his vision and its life is his mission.  Without Fr. Tony at the helm, Ocer would never have become a reality and would surely crash upon the rocks should he leave.

Sailing along with my ship analogy, we have Fr. Jim, Fr. Tony's first mate so to say.  Fr. Jim is the technical man.  He reviews designs, plans infrastructure, orders materials, hires workers, and ultimately make most of the spending decisions.  Unfortunately he is not here all the time.  He has to divide his efforts between this building project and another one in Kenya.  So, I have become a fill in more or less for Fr. Jim when he isn't around.  I spend a lot of time trying to inspect the buildings (though I really have no idea what I'm doing and what real authority I have) and fighting fires.  I fix water mains, repair doors, fix engines, install solar panels, repair lights and other such odds and ends.  Endless work, but enjoyable for the most part.  Especially since Francis, a young local guy, is learning to do all this stuff as my apprentice.  He is sharp and hard working.

Now here is the major kicker.  While Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim are more or less the sail and rudder of the ship, they don't get to choose all of there crew.  The school administration is chosen by the provincial, head Jesuit of the region.  This is where we get a lot of trouble.  The provincial doesn't see any of the day to day activities and doesn't have any grasp of the awesome and amazing vision that Fr. Tony has for the school.  Nor does he see the fantastic potential of what Ocer could be.  He basis his decision for school administration on something else.  I can speculate as to what, but in the end it doesn't matter.

So the school ends up with a Head Master and Deputy Head Master who are Jesuit brothers, as well educated as East Africa can provide and have no idea the incredible potential they have in there hands.  They grew up in the East African education system, that is all they know and that is all they are willing to work with.  Ocer receives 5 or so volunteers each summer, college students who are on there way to teaching degrees, or we even get people who are professional teachers from the states willing to volunteer for a year or more and they are not allowed to teach any classes.  I would imagine this is because the HM doesn't understand their teaching style, but more importantly he doesn't control them directly.  So it is better to not have them teach.

The end result is this.  Eight million U.S. dollar and counting have been put towards Ocer Campion Jesuit College and as of the time I left, March 2012, the students were not receiving any better an education than the public schools 5 miles down the road.  While at Ocer I was still teaching at one of the public schools (Trinity College) and I can tell you that if you took the top 80 sophomores from Trinity and put them against the 80 sophomores from Ocer, it would be a wash.

How can this be?!?!  Ocer has more resources, they are private so they don't have to follow the inane Ugandan curriculum and they get to choose the best and the brightest students from all over the region and yet they can't even out perform Trinity, a mediocre public school?  Simple, the HM, the administration, the teachers aren't using the resources well.  They are simply meeting the status quo that they grew up with.  The Ugandan curriculum is still used, school funds are used to buy uniforms instead of books, "teaching" still means copying verbatim on the chalk board from the teachers notes (notes that he or she made when in high school), "learning" still means copying verbatim from the chalk board into the students notes.

If the East African education system is so good, I ponder to the HM, then why is it that the Jesuits are needed to come in and reform it?  Why is it no one comes to Africa for higher education?  Well, that was my mistake.  Challenging the African big man, just as I wound up doing in Padibe, got me nowhere.  All it got me was an enemy.  So after suffering through the misery of watching the HM and other school administrators take something beautiful and turn it into shit for a couple of months, I lost heart.  I couldn't do it.  Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have a level of serenity and peace that I can't imagine.  It makes me cry sometimes to think how little vision the HM has and how that will so easily destroy the vision Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have.

This came to a head when the HM told Francis, not asked but told him, to cut up a $200+ door in the dormitory so that the students could be served food from behind the door like prisoners.  "Why?" might you ask.  Well, because the students, as kids do, get to goofing around waiting to be served their beans and as it happens some of them got bumped into the pot and burned themselves.  Now, instead of reprimanding the students for horsing around and instead of assigning a teacher or other faculty to supervise, the HM would rather have $200+ of infrastructure altered so that our students could be fed like prisoners, from behind bars.  I lost it.  In no uncertain terms I told him he was foolish and that he has no authority over the infrastructure of the school. If he wants something changed then he must go through me.  He is not to order Francis around as Francis is under my payroll, not his.  Well, I just picked a fight that I couldn't win.  If for no other reason than because I was leaving soon and the HM was there to stay.  So I said enough is enough.  I spent the next week or so doing what I could to help Georg, a Jesuit volunteer from Germany, learn everything he would need to replace me.  I called it quits lest I find a stout ruler and give the HM a traditional Jesuit education.

The next week, I went to KLA to finish my close of service procedures then got on a plane for Thailand.  I was sad, but so relieved.  I wouldn't have to lay in bed at night fuming over how asinine people are and how little I could do about it.

Not the happiest post, but I got some more thoughts on my African life coming.

New Home

So after my a month and a half of touring around Uganda, I contacted the director of Ocer Campion Jesuit College (OCJC), a high school just outside of Gulu in northern Uganda.  You can check out all the work that is going on there at http://ocer.adventuredock.com/.  I had known of the school for a while and had even visited a few months before I had to leave the village.  The reason I wanted to come here is because they are building.  The school is far from finished, infrastructure wise, and that would give me ample opportunity to put some of my $180,000 education to work.

The director put me to work immediately on several projects.  Wiring up some security lights and street lights.  Adjusting and evaluating the solar systems.  Extending and correcting the plumbing.  Helping with the dam to create a big pond.  Most importantly, watching over the builders to make sure they aren't cutting corners and to keep them on schedule.  This is going to take a bit to explain so hold on tight.

First, the school is not using the traditional building method of burnt mud bricks.  The burnt mud bricks are cheap, but they are basically Styrofoam filler in an otherwise cement wall.  They use an inch or more of mortar on all sides of the bricks because they are not uniform at all.  Getting a level course is damn near impossible.  The bricks themselves can just about be broken with your bare hands.  Not only this, but it takes an enormous amount of fire wood to cook the bricks.  In the last ten years, Uganda has lost almost 40% of its forest.  Trees are on a serious decline.  Add this in with how expensive (both in dollars and environmental effects) cement is and the traditional building method is crap.  Plus the buildings fall down in a decade or two.

So OCJC is using interlocking stabilized soil blocks (issb).  These issb's are pretty sweet.  They use a hydraulic press to compress sandy soil with a little clay and cement mix.  The result can be seen here: http://www.hydraform.com/ImageGallery/Index.asp?IGImageCategory=Walls+and+Stables.  In the end, it is cheaper to use the issb system because you don't use any mortar between the issb's or cover the inside and outside with mortar like they do with traditional burnt bricks.  It ends up saving you about 30% of the over all cost.  So it looks like some engineers do get to play with Legos when they grow up.

But that brings to the builders.  Unfortunately the issb's have only recently been introduced to Uganda so not a lot of people know how to lay the blocks properly.  So the school hired a construction crew out of the capital city to come and do the work.  In my opinion they are gouging the school really bad.  For every person I see working, I see another literally sleeping on the job.  No shame, no effort to hide, just flat out on his back snoring.  It isn't really allowed, but no one does anything to stop it, except me.  Only, I don't really have the power to dock wages or fire anyone so I end up being all bark and no bite.  I'm working on that though.

We just finished, for the most part, putting up the classrooms and are now working on the boys dormitory.  In Uganda, it is quite common for secondary schools to be boarding.  The girls dorm was already finished when I arrived.  At the moment, we have only the freshmen and sophomores because the school just opened three years ago and we are taking in one class at a time.  Most of the girls dormitory is empty so I get to have one of the prefect's rooms.  It is convenient and the layout of the dorm keeps me pretty separate from the girls.  I moved in all my bamboo shelves, the bed was already there and the door has a lock.  So now I'm all set.  Oh, and living on campus means I get to eat with the students.  My diet isn't all that varied, but I don't care so long as I don't have to cook.  Mostly beans and cornmeal with rice on some days and meat usually once a week.  Compared to other schools, we are living pretty high on the hog.

Well, there is a lot more to explain but we just had two rain showers back to back in the middle of the dry season.  It is both a relief and a curse.  Relief because the heat and dust were killing us and we were running out of water.  Curse because right now the mosquitoes are eating me alive.  Time to crawl under my mosquito net and read "Lies Across America."  Excellent book by the way, but if you are interested in it then I would suggest "Lies My Teacher Told Me" first.

While I've been writing all this, I've also been letting some pictures load.  I hope this helps to shape my descriptions into something comprehensible.

Dude putting together the re-bar for the wall beam of the boys dorm

That giant hole will be an underground cistern for rainwater.  Roughly 20' across and 15' deep.  It ought to hold about 15,000 gallons.  However, 300 students will still make short work of that during the dry season.

George, a volunteer with the Jesuits from Germany, and the construction bosses

Finishing up the classrooms.  It is a square with a round hut (soon to be thatched with grass) and under the hut is the rain cistern, just like the dorms only smaller

Just outside the classrooms

The boys dorm will have a urinal, latrine, bathing area, and washing area separate from the sleeping areas.  These are the foundations of such.  The owner of the construction company is Lawrence in the kaki shirt, his right hand man Moses is in the blue jumper, and George.

Finishing up the walls.  The blocks stack together so easily.  As long as you keep things level, one man can lay 1000+ blocks in a day.  Well, that also assumes you can keep him awake and working.

Cistern getting deeper

Common work practice: everything stops to say good morning, ask about work, ask about home, ask about kids, ask about crops, ask about the weather, and ask about extended family.  Its actually a very nice practice and helps to keep the community strong, but it sure can get frustrating when you want to get stuff done.

I like working with the women the most.  They are usually more dedicated, hard working, and willing to learn than the men.  Part of that is because they are accustomed to taking direction much more than men in African society.

Hut (soon to be thatched) and water tank for the girls dorm.  The cistern is also under the hut just like the boys dorm.  The boys and girls dorms will be just about identical.  You can see a small water pump for getting the water out of the cistern.

Just outside of the girls dorm.  When we have freshmen through seniors living here, all the rooms will be full of girls.  I will not be living here at that time, praise the Lord.

Just outside the classrooms

Fire in the distance and a storm coming to put it out.

This is the scene 3 - 5 days a week at 4:00 pm during the rainy season.  Amazing!

More blocks.  I love Legos!

This shows how the blocks lock together, both vertically and horizontally.

Got to cover the blocks as they cure so they don't dry too fast.  Too fast and they crumble.

This is the shop, the place I call home during day light hours.

This is Ojok Francis, the carpenter whom I work with nearly everyday.  One of the few men I've meet who is nearly as concerned with learning new skill as he is with getting paid.  He's quick and hard working.  I would say he is my apprentice, but he has taught me far more than I have taught him.

Just outside the shop

Tool room on the right, office in the middle, loft up above where we keep all the big stuff, pvc pipe, sewage line, lumber and such.

I climbed up the water tower we have and snapped a lot of pictures.  Right below is the solar array that runs the pump that fills the water tower.  The solar array tracks the sun, its a really nice set up.

Far left is the temporary shower room for the boys while we finish their dorm, middle is the toilet, and the far right is the corner of the shop.

Shop, the four tanks on the corners each hold about 3,500 gallons which then feed the buildings down hill with running water for everything but drinking.  The water tower gets ground water from 100' down.  We get it tested every year and it's what we drink.

Far right is the roof of the boys temporary dorm.  It will become classrooms when the dorm is finished.

Down the hill towards the left are the classrooms, on the right is part of the boys toilets

Far down the hill on the right is the girls dorm, just up from that is the Jesuit's house.  That is where the priests and brothers live.  The nuns live in an apartment that is part of the girls dorm.

Far center is the construction of the boys dorm.

Neighbor's house and cows.  They are pretty well off, that is how they were able to afford donating the land that the school is being built on.  Their cows are even part Holstein, that is a major sign of wealth.

Neighbors

Top of boys temporary dorm

Road headed to the nearest trading center (group of shops and houses) called Unyama.  It'a about 2 miles away.

Other neighbors, they are all related though.  Cousin brother's wife's sister's mother-in-law's aunt.

Nice house, very cool during the dry season.  It costs about $40 to build a house like this, and that is if you hire someone to help you.  Usually you just get family and neighbors to help out, then when they go to build a house you return the favor.

Eucalyptus trees grow straight and fast, sell for good lumber or telephone poles and repel mosquitoes.  The downside is that they soak up water like it's their job and will quickly dry up your soil.  It is best to plant them in swamps that you want to dry up, or in dry areas where other trees won't grow and you can't farm anyway.

Storm blew itself out before it got to us.  Good thing too, cause half way up this water tower was a small wasp nest, so I wasn't going to make it down the ladder until some one gave me a pole to knock down their nest.

And that's all for now.  I'll add words soon.  I don't have any more pictures.

Not that well after all - June 2011

So after this amazing adventure, I try to settle back into my routine.  I go to school, garden, tinker and read stories with the little kids on my front porch.  This is a nice easy time for me.  The beginning of the term means that I and the vice principle are the only ones at school for the first week or two.  So I spend most of the day in the library organizing and reading.  Hang up some more maps.  Put the encyclopedia in place.  Simple things.  I have big plans for starting a book club when the students get here.  We don't really have enough copies of any one book, so I was thinking that during lunch time I would go and read short stories to the students who want to listen.  Maybe after a week or so of this I can convince one of the students to take over.  Maybe let one of them take the book home and practice reading a few pages so they could come back the next day and read it out loud very well.  It seemed like a plan worth trying.

Unfortunately, the fun and excitement of my adventure didn't end with arriving at home safe and sound.  Our illustrious driver was hounding me for money.  I told him I didn't have any money for him and even if I did, I would expect my fuel back first.  After a few confrontations, surprisingly civil I might add, I thought it was over.  I thought he had finally given up and realized that I was not the one in the wrong.  Turns out he didn't.

Instead, he went to the local council.  The lowest/closest form of government and elected officials are the local council.  He went to them and submitted his plea.  I was informed in writing that I need to attend this meeting.  I respectfully declined because I didn't see it as being worth my time and I was advised by friends not to.  I didn't think he had any legitimate claim, which he didn't, and the case would be closed regardless. Besides, what could he do to me, send me to prison?  The headmaster (principle) of my school even scoffed at the idea of me going to the local council meeting.  I wasn't worried.  But I should have been.

This ex-friend/driver of mine was the only person in the village with a vehicle.  There is a reason he was the only person in the village with a vehicle, he is the chief's son.  More than half of the local council are his family members.  He is nothing shy of bull of the woods around here and I told him to f*** off.  Not good.  I immediately informed PC about this, being the good little PCV that I am and was told to let my headmaster handle it.  My headmaster wasn't around so the deputy went to the local council chairman instead. This is when the my lucky stars really came into help me.  It just so happens that the local council chairman was my ace in the hole that I didn't even know about.  He was too old and tired to care about what the chiefs son thought of him.  The chairman had nothing to loose in prestige or esteem as far as he was concerned.  Not only that, but it seems his family and the chiefs family had some land disputes a while back that never got settled.  So he was more than happy to help me out.  He simply refused to hear the case.  He postponed the meeting indefinitely.  Without a meeting, nothing can go on.  The police won't even do anything until the local council has had its say.  So looks like I'm safe.  I inform PC, but apparently they had also called the HM to get his $0.02 on the matter.

My HM stuck with me the whole way, but apparently something had happened between me talking to the HM and the HM talking with PC because all the sudden he was kind of worried about me.  I never did find out what exactly happened, but I think someone informed the HM of just how big of a head honcho this chief's son is.  I wasn't worried, but PC was.  I talked to my boss over the phone for a bit and convinced her to let me stay and wait this out for a little bit.  So I did.  It was awful.

In a matter of two days, I went from being the most popular guy around to being an untouchable.  When I would go to the market to get my onions, tomatoes, and cabbage, the little old ladies would all call me over to their stand so I would buy their produce.  Now, I was lucky if anyone would return my greetings.  Keep in mind, this is an African village.  Greetings here are everything.  The shortest greetings take minutes and some are an entire conversation about how everybody and everything is doing.  It is considerably rude to not greet someone and even more rude to not return a greeting.  I was being shunned.

It is really sad to know how quickly people can turn against you.  Especially when you aren't even in the wrong.  This chief's son turned the majority of the village against me in just two days.  I don't know if they knew the truth or not, though I have a feeling it wouldn't have mattered.  I know it is shallow of them, but to be honest, it was also necessary.  The village community is so tight that everyone is, in one way or another, dependent on everyone else.  To be shunned from the community means no one is going to lend you anything.  No one is going to cut you a deal on your purchases.  No one is going to buy from you.  No one is going to look out for your home or your stuff when you're gone.  No one is going to care what happens to you.  No one will visit you when you get sick.  No one is going to look out for your kids.  To be shunned is to be cut off.  To be cut off is to perish.  If anyone would have sided with me, the chief's son would have turned on them too.  They could choose what is right and side with the white guy who is going to leave in a year, or they could choose what is wrong and side with one of the most influential people in the area who they will have to deal with for the rest of their lives.  With a choice like that, I can't fault them nearly as much.  There is an African proverb that says:  "When two bulls fight, it is the grasses that suffer."  That was exactly it.  The community was going to get trampled on if me and Mr. Big Shot got into any farther than we were.

Then I got a phone call.  My boss wanted me to leave immediately.  She said I would only be gone a week while my headmaster sorted stuff out for me.  I was so furious at this time, I really wanted to get a piece of rebar and knee-cap this guy, but I didn't.  Instead I left.  My boss told me I would only be gone a week, but a week turned into two, and then a month, and then two months.  Turns out she just told me that to get me out of there as fast as possible.  My HM wasn't sorting things out for me, he called and told PC that it might not be safe for me while this issue is so tense.

So for the next two months I pretty much toured around Uganda.  I went to any official PC event we had going on.  I visited a whole lot of my fellow volunteers.  I helped out at a science day.  I answered questions at a health day.  I took down names at a clinic for people getting tested for HIV.  I went on a few hikes.  Enjoyed the fourth of July at the base of Mt. Elgon with some friends.  It actually wasn't too bad, but only because I kept thinking that I was going back home.  Turns out I wasn't.  All this time, my boss had been working on finding me a new place.  She had already made up her mind.  I had to find a new home.