This is Eden's 6th Report, sent on 1st March 2008.

The End of my Time at Mukibugu

This week was the last week for me at Mukibugu Primary School. I have been at the school for 4 months (doesn't time fly!). It has been an amazing experience for me and I have learnt many things during my time there. When you come to the end of something you often recall the beginning and looking back I can see that ACE supporting these schools in Uganda and sending me here has made a difference to these children.

When I first arrived at Mukibugu many things I saw at the school surprised me. Things like the way the teachers taught, teachers writing on the blackboard and then drilling the students on what had been written. The students didn't seem to have much input into the lesson and a lot of the time simply repeated what the teacher said. It didn't seem like much thinking took place for the children. I then realized that if you have 100 students in a classroom then this 'rote' learning style worked best. I was used to classes of 20-30 students, the names of whom I knew and could ask direct questions to. I quickly learnt not to judge these people by our standards.

Caning: Yes, this does go on here (just like British schools in the Victorian days - a few of you may remember it taking place when you were at school). I was a little shocked to see it the first time, a boy being caned on the backside for being late. However, it seems to be the only way to control the students in many cases, and it is what the students know. You break the rules, you get a caning… simple. After a couple of times of seeing it, I could see that some of the students actually enjoyed the teacher - pupil disciplining. Some smiled and laughed as they tried to dodge the cane and scampered away once they received their punishment.

The lack of materials to teach also astounded me. Most lessons were taught with a stick of chalk and a blackboard. There simply wasn't any money for paper, textbooks, equipment or realia.

Many surprises but it was to be expected as I had been brought up in a modern western society.

So, what has happened during my time here?

Changes

When I first arrived the newly built two-block classroom was unused. After a few carefully placed words like 'Why isn't that new classroom being used?!' and 'If Angela knew the new classrooms weren't being used she would hit the roof!'. An afternoon later, two hundred students from P1 class moved in.

No Sports Facilities

As you have read in my previous reports Mukibugu now has two volleyball courts, swings, monkey bars, and several balancing beams. On Friday 29th February the netball court was finally finished and the first game of netball took place under the guidance of my friend Hannah from Hampshire who had come to visit the school for the day.

She said afterward, 'They don't understand the concept of rules very well.'

I said, 'Yes, they seem to have trouble with them.'

Library

ACE library books are where they belong, in the hands of the children…

Classrooms

All classrooms are now decorated with art, colourful charts, origami birds and attention-grabbing pictures. The kids like the classrooms being so colourful especially with art/craft that they have made themselves.

New Lessons

Art/craft lessons, Japanese lessons, computer lessons, library book reading lessons, karate lessons, structured PE lessons, and even a lessons on politeness (they don't have a word for 'please' in Rufumbira language, it is difficult for them to ask for things politely). New lessons that the kids found interesting and eye-opening. They still can't quite understand my laptop computer but they love it when I show them pictures and video of them, I guess it is just a 'magical box' to many of them!

So, what has this all meant for the kids at Mukibugu?

For them I believe they have had their eyes opened to many new things, they have had new experiences, and most of all they have had some new memories.

I have laughed when they have done PE holding a ball between their legs in a relay race and jumped like demented fish to go faster, they have laughed as I tried to sing their songs and got the words completely wrong, I have smiled as I saw a pupil create an origami bird and look so proud, they have smiled as I showed a picture of the Cornish coast and the sea, all memories that have been created because ACE and I are here.

As I toured the school on my last day, I saw a game of Netball with 100 students watching it being played, colourful craft hanging from the ceiling swaying in the wind in many classrooms, children with library books, 550 students in school (last year there were only 400), boys and girls waiting impatiently to ride on the swing, an organised school office, and children chasing balls here and there yelling as they did so.

I realised my work was done, the goal of creating a fun, and interesting place of learning was complete. The future now lay in the hands of the pupils and the teachers.

Teachers and pupils have changed in my time here, many don't even know it has happened but I have seen the change, and it has been wonderful to watch. Pupils taking more responsibility and growing up, teachers trying new things in class, pupils talking new languages to me, teachers laughing as they do PE outside, pupils not wanting to leave school at lunch-time, but the real change at the heart of it all is this…

Teachers, pupils and parents alike are HAPPIER in their hearts.

Because they know that Mukibugu is going places…

The future is in their hands now; I have a feeling that Mukibugu is going to get better and better in the years to come.

Farewell from Mukibugu

Next stop is Nyakabaya Primary School where I start on Monday 3rd March for two weeks. I will make one or two suggestions to the teachers there…

A Day in Rwanda

I set off early, as I knew that I would only have the day in Rwanda. As I stepped out into the turquoise blue canopy of the outdoors I was excited and a little apprehensive. I was going to a new country, a country that was the other side of Mount Muhabura, what sights would it hold and would I be able to get back into Uganda again with a three-month visa?

I hired a Boda boda motorcycle driver to take me to the border and with my friend Augustine's help I managed to get the Ugandan fare for the journey (a difficulty for those with white skin). The road was dusty and bumpy, but I didn't mind as today I was going to Rwanda.

On getting off the bike at the border a horde of vulture type creatures descended on me, they were the local money changing guys. 'Rwanda francs, Rwanda francs!' they repeated at me.

I took note of their exchange rate and moved on to the visa office. A grumpy looking man with stubble greeted me and asked me many questions. When he found out I was a volunteer, he shook his head and said 'Why don't you have a work visa? You must go to Kampala and get one.' My heart sank; this was exactly what I didn't want. All I wanted was another 3 months tourist visa and this guy was telling me that I had to go to Kampala and fill out forms, which meant red tape and difficulties. I knew that what he was saying was a whole load of hassle. I had to go through him to get my 3-month visa when I returned to Uganda, the situation looked bleak.

My heart a little lower I proceeded on into Rwanda. I looked for transport to my next destination, the town of Ruhengeri 25 km away. An empty mini-bus was parked next to the border office. In my experience a mini-bus doesn't move unless it is full of passengers in Africa. I calculated it would be 1-2 hours before it would fill up, I decided to walk to the local trading centre. I didn't know how far it would be but it couldn't be more than a thirty-minute walk. Under the shining sun I started walking. The Rwandan road in front of me surprised me; it had a tarmac surface, and road markings, it stretched like a grey runway into the distance. So it was true what people had told me about Rwanda, it was more developed than Uganda. Kisoro had a potholed, mud and stones job for what could loosely be described as a road.

Some children and a young mother joined me on my walk. In my broken Rufumbira language I found out that she was also going to the trading centre and that she lived around here. In her colourful clothing she looked like any other peasant I had seen in Kisoro. She smiled widely and had a friendly demeanour, and I was glad of the company in the warm sun.

Just before reaching the trading centre after walking thirty minutes or so (I didn't take a start time) my companions bade me farewell and walked along a footpath adjacent to the tarmac road to their destinations.

Most people in the trading centre were sat around on the street; it is just like places in Kisoro I thought to myself. After inquiring, I found out that no public transport was moving until midday and for that reason people were sat around, they were waiting for transport to move. I looked at my watch it was just after 11am, realising there was nothing to do I sat down with everyone else.

At 11.40am people were getting impatient it seemed, passengers were getting into mini-buses, I decided to join them. After one false start (we were stopped by traffic police and told to wait) we were moving, it was 11.45am. Of all the mini-vans I could I have picked I selected the local football supporters bus. So as soon as we were moving the whole bus was rocking to the sound of football songs. As we slowed down for traffic, the football flag placed on the front of the bus fluttered in front of the windscreen, I should have been more vigilant. I had to smile though; there was certainly an atmosphere on the bus.

Forty minutes later we reached Ruhengeri my destination. I got off the bus and started walking around the town. I was surprised at how pretty Rwanda had looked from the bus window. Trees everywhere (more than in Kisoro and Uganda), flowers by the roadside and neat ordered fields. This first impression carried on as I walked through town. I kept thinking Rwanda is more organised than Uganda. Little rubbish on the streets and plastic bags were banned to aid conservation of the environment.

I met a boy of thirteen along the way called Ebola who spoke English. I was surprised as French is the language they use here. He seemed like a nice boy so I allowed him to accompany me. We went towards a church in the distance. On reaching it, it was a huge church that looked new or was it just very clean, I was not sure.

Below it was a concrete amphitheatre leading down to a grassy area with a neat footpath snaking it's way around it. Beyond that was a smart stage with potted plants decorating it. I was impressed by all of this as we walked down to the grassy area. We then walked towards a basketball game (the first I had seen in Africa) and passed through the gates leading to it. There was a proper outdoor court with a girl's school game taking place on it and a crowd looking on. The school that I had just entered had very good sports facilities. I looked at the gymnastics equipment and volleyball courts; it was unlike anything I had seen in Kisoro town. The home team was demolishing the opposition as one basket followed another much to the glee of the home supporters.

We headed back into town and went into a supermarket. As soon as walked in I exclaimed 'Baguettes!'. There in front of me were some freshly baked baguettes. A relic of the Belgium colonial days, but I was glad for it and quickly bought one as I couldn't get baguettes in Uganda. I left the supermarket excited as I had bought a baguette, Rwandan coffee from the shores of Lake Kivu and a wheel of cheese (something that is difficult to get in Uganda).

We stopped for lunch and I treated my young friend to some hot food. He told me about his family, and as I listened I found it a sad story. He was the second born in the family, but didn't have any brothers and sisters alive. He lived with his elderly grandmother of 61 years. He was at secondary school, I asked him how did he could afford to go (school is expensive here if you are a farmer) and he said a neighbour paid for his schooling. I asked about his parents, were they alive, did they live away from his grandmother because of work? He looked uncomfortable, and a bit upset and then quietly said his mother died during the Rwandan genocide, his father had gone missing during the fighting, and his brothers and sisters had also been killed in the genocide. His only remaining family was his elderly grandmother. A long silence followed and I hesitantly said 'I am sorry to hear that.'

It seemed that no one was untouched here during the Rwandan genocide; approximately 500,000 people died (no one can be sure) in the 1990's and millions were displaced. We all saw it on the BBC news, week after week during 1994-1995. A short sharp African history lesson had just been played out in front of me.

After touring the town further it was time to go back to the border. At the bus park I said goodbye to my 13-year-old friend and gave him my address. I said to him 'If anything happens to your grandmother, contact me.' I knew that his grandmother's death would mean he would be an orphan, without a home and without any support for the future. In effect his future would be bleak.

I headed to the border; I now had the mission of getting a three-month visa from a grumpy looking immigration officer with stubble.

I walked towards his office and saw him slouched in a chair under the afternoon sun. He was dozing and as he heard my footsteps woke up and pointed at a door in the distance. I had to register with the police as I entered Uganda, I had signed out at the same office when I left the country.

Now the easiest and African thing to do with a grumpy and stubbly immigration officer is offer the bribe and walk out of the office with your three-month visa. That's the last resort in my books and something I didn't want to do (and is at the root of corruption), so I talked to him about what A.C.E. was doing to help Ugandan schools.

After that fell on deaf ears, I told him how the Resident District Commissioner (a big man in Kisoro) had said that he wanted to fully support A.C.E. and my efforts. He just said that was not his concern, and this was an immigration office. I realised then that this man was not under Kisoro District jurisdiction and that meant I had no leverage. I also realised apart from being grumpy and stubbly, he was also drunk. It looked like a trip to Kampala was on the cards, and with it big problems.

He then said, 'I will give you two months to sort matters out.' After telling him that others had got three-month visas from him and it would cause problems if I only got a two-month visa, he started writing the visa out in my passport.

Several minutes of silence passed by as he wrote out the visa. I thought, I should have just given him the bribe; it is going to cost fives times more money and mess up my schedule for the coming months.

He looked up and murmured 'I have given you three months. Next time, come with a letter from the Ministry of Education.'

I walked out of his office into the afternoon sun and wanted to jump in the air and say 'YES!'

As I travelled back to Kisoro in the golden afternoon sun I thought, 'What a great day…'

A day that showed me the soul of Africa.

This is Eden's 7th Report, written on 15th March 2008.

Library, Sports and Painting at Nyakabaya

The last two weeks, phew…it has been quite two weeks. I had been given the assignment by A.C.E. of improving Nyakabaya Primary School in the short time of two weeks. A lot can happen in two weeks, then again very little can happen, all depending on what you want to do with fourteen days.

'Where are your books?' I asked. 'In the storeroom.' Donatta, the head-teacher, answered. I ventured in and saw a 5-stand bookshelf full of books. I was impressed; it is a rare thing to see a relatively organized bookshelf full of textbooks in one place in Kisoro District. 'Where are the other books?' I inquired. She frowned, 'What books?' 'The books sent by A.C.E. a few years ago.' I said. 'Maybe in the teachers' accommodation' she replied. I opened the door of a small room in the teachers, accommodation and saw what looked like a rubbish heap. On closer inspection of the rubbish heap there were papers, ACE books, Ugandan textbooks, cardboard boxes, teaching materials and random items like a desk and a school sign.

'If you organise some pupils to take everything out, and put it in front of the office storeroom, we will sort it out there.' I said. After building a set of shelves, sifting through all the papers, books and boxes, and 72 hours later the work was complete. 'At a guess you have about a thousand books.' I stated. 'Really?' Donatta answered. With that the library was complete.

'I want a netball court.' Donatta the headmistress requested. 'Yes, and if one is built who will teach netball?' I replied. 'I will and… Florence.' 'You can play netball?' I was a little surprised as Donatta was pushing fifty years of age and I could not quite picture her in a skimpy Netball outfit. 'At the Teachers College I used to play a lot.' she proudly said. 'Alright, if it is built I want to see a game of netball on it with you and Florence playing.' 'Yes, we will play' she replied. Pupils preparing and levelling the ground for the new netball court.   True to her word, when the netball court was finished, she and Florence (another teacher) were prancing around the court teaching the girls to play. They didn't do too badly either, although I think the netball tired out Donatta but she hid the fact well. 'The girls enjoy the game!' she exclaimed. All I could do was smile.

'So this is P1 class?' I asked.

'Yes.' Donatta answered.

'Mmm.' I said. I was thinking two things -my god the walls are filthy and if we had some paint, perhaps light green or blue (the same as the school uniform) we could paint the classroom and make it look like new.

'If I bought some paint and some brushes, could you organize some pupils to help me paint it?' I said. 'Yes… but do you know how to paint?' An unsure look on her face formed as she said this. 'I have done it before.' I responded. Well, I had painted my room when I was eighteen, and several large doors in my time. 'Please organise ten pupils to help me tomorrow…' 'Tomorrow afternoon?' she interrupted. 'Yes, that will be fine.'

'Up and down, up and down, nice and slow. This is the way to paint.' So now I was teaching African children how to paint a wall. I seem to have many roles here in Africa -teacher, school committee member, playground designer, drainage engineer, African correspondent for ACE - interior decorator is just another one to add to the list.

This team start painting and I will supervise.' I said. The five boys took up their paintbrushes and rollers excitedly and started painting. 'Slowly! Slowly!' I shouted. Paint was flying everywhere, most of it on the floor. 'Good, good, that is the way to do it.' They were now brushing slowly and smoothly.

'Can you supervise this group Smith?' I asked the teacher helping me.

'Yes…' he said hesitantly.

'Stop! Stop! What are you doing?' I shouted. The other team of five boys had started by themselves and now there was paint all over the wall, above the line demarcated for painting. They were painting on the white washed walls that I had said not to paint, as they were relatively clean.

'Quick, clean it!' I barked at Smith. I ran out to fetch the paraffin. The damage was luckily reversed and painting resumed.

An hour and a half later we were finished. The boys had paint all over their hands and specks of paint were on their bare backs. A crowd was pushing at the classroom doorway, eager to see the new classroom.

'No-one comes in.' I ordered. I knew that if the kids came in then the first thing they would do would be to touch the new paint, ruining what we had done.

The paint took a day and a half to dry. The P1 class children were very excited about their new sky blue classroom, as was the teacher. I was amazed at the difference a coat of paint made to the classroom.

'It is like a new classroom!' Donatta exclaimed. I was already thinking, what other schools could I do the same at?

There were a few other things we did at the school but that is another story. You will just have to see for yourself if you ever visit Nyakabaya Primary School in Kisoro.

I am always amazed at what a little bit of money, some support from local teachers and eager children can do at schools in Uganda.

Next project is to build a school bus out of bamboo poles… well that would be something...!

This is Eden's 8th Report received on 29th March 2008.

The Green Open Fields of Gitenderi

I have just finished my two weeks at Gitenderi Primary School. Spending only two weeks at each school means that I have to work quickly and be focused on what the school needs.

After my first day assessing Gitenderi School I had two words in my head: 'Sports' and 'Library'.

Sports

There are green open fields surrounding Gitenderi Primary School, making the school look like an island in a sea of green. Many other schools in the district aren't so lucky with their land allocation. Two solitary goal posts made of metal stood in the main field like two lost old men. From what I could see there wasn't a marked pitch and on further investigation I found there wasn't a single functioning ball in the whole school. I also found two volleyball poles standing in an area, no marked court and again no ball. So, for 1,024 pupils, there was little in the way of sports facilities or equipment.

The pupils acted like a field of cows at break time as they wandered here and there aimlessly. Some had invented their own games; others were using toys made by them, for example vines as a substitute for skipping rope.

'This school has big open fields, two young sports teachers and lots of pupils. This school is made for sports'. I thought.

Courtesy of David Epidu, sports equipment arrived from Kampala for Gitenderi, the football pitch and volleyball court were marked out, and the first games were played two days later. Kenneth and Gideon, the sports teachers, were eager to do sports at Gitenderi but had lacked the equipment. They were very happy when the equipment arrived and enthusiastically supervised the first volleyball game of the new school year.

'What's are these?' I asked.

'Netball poles' the headmaster answered.

'Why aren't they outside being used?'

'We have no ball and no court' the headmaster hastily replied.

'We will build a court and I will get a ball. Who can teach netball?' I said.

'Juliet is the sports mistress. I think she can teach it'

'Excellent!'

At that, I walked out of the dark and dirty storeroom. A day or two later the netball court was complete.

'Athletics track!'

'A what?' Gideon the sports master stuttered.

'We could build an athletics track here, around the outside of the football field. Look, there is just enough space but we may have to make the football field a little narrower. It is very large anyway…'

It was 100m long and 80m wide, a full size football pitch.

'You know that this school could be the best school at sports in this whole area' I added.

Gideon just looked at me blankly. I couldn't blame him, the school didn't have a single ball and there was me telling him that the school could be excellent at sports.

After a great deal hard work, and a lot of trial and error, in the last hour of my last day at Gitenderi a large cheer was heard as the first athletics race started. Half a dozen bare-chested boys ran round the outside curve of the athletics track and into history.

I couldn't believe my own eyes, nor could the rest of the school, but on an incomplete (the curved track on the far-side wasn't finished) athletics track children were competing to the cheers of all. A large crowd had gathered around the start line, children were eager to run on the new track.

The mountains in the background looked on as a group of boys sprinted as fast as they could past me. Even the mountains were surprised, I think, that Gitenderi had constructed an athletics track out of nothing, the only athletics track that I knew of in the whole district.

Library

Gitenderi was blessed with the amount of books that it had. At a guess there were over 1,500 books. What it was not blessed with was any sort of organisation of the books. There were books everywhere around the school. Some books were in the classrooms, some in cupboards, some in cardboard boxes, some even scattered on the floor.

'First we will sort out all the books, then we will build a large set of shelves for the school to put them on and we will put it…' I looked around the school office. 'Here!' I pointed to the wall next to the office door.

'We shall move the cupboard and clean up behind it!' the teacher enthusiastically added.

The P7 class, two teachers, and a friend of mine called Kat came to school on Easter Monday and sorted all the books in the school. It took the whole morning; books were everywhere in this one class, but by lunchtime the books were roughly organised into subjects and years.

The set of shelves arrived on the back of a lorry on the Wednesday. A coat of varnish and an afternoon later all the books were where they were supposed to be, organised and on a bookshelf. The librarian looked so proud as he adjusted a book here and there, for the new library for Gitenderi was finished.

Final Words

I find that sometimes in life you are lucky enough to see the fruits of your labour in a single magical moment. I have been lucky enough to experience this magical thing many times while working here in Uganda.

As I looked around late in the afternoon on Friday, the school was alive. Children ran here and there chasing balls, there was a queue of forty children waiting to ride the new swings, the carpenter and a teacher were putting the final touches to the monkey bars, and it was well after the end of school.

A cheer went up, I looked round, but I could not believe my own eyes even though I helped make it, bare-chested boys were sprinting round the outside curve of the athletics track.

I smiled as I thought 'They started races before it was even completed!'

Gideon and Kenneth, the sports teachers, were so eager to see the new track in action that they started races before the lanes on the far side were complete.

'This school will be alright' I thought. The teachers had found the belief in creating a better school for the children they taught.

My work was complete for Gitenderi…

This is Eden's 9th Report, sent on 28th April 2008.

'Celebrate the End of Term - ACE Sports Day'

They came from the north, the south and the west to Gitenderi, each school proceeding down the narrow driveway like a battalion of colourful small soldiers. They spread out like ants across the playing field, each school one to two hundred strong; they had come together to celebrate the end of term and they had come together to celebrate football, volleyball, netball and athletics.

It took a lot of organising and hard work on the part of those involved, but, in the end, it was all worth it as teacher and pupil alike thoroughly enjoyed the day. Five schools - five schools that I had passed through in the last eight weeks, five schools that had changed in so many positive ways, they had all come because they were part of something; they were part of ACE and they were part of a bigger family in Cornwall four thousand miles away.

I did not expect so many people to attend. There must have been one thousand people at the event at a rough estimate. Normally just the sports team would come to an event like this in England but here in Africa when a sporting event takes place most of the school come to support their team. It certainly adds to the atmosphere of the day as children cheer on their schoolmates.

I will illustrate a few highlights of the day:

Netball

Three hard-working teachers and my friend Liz from England supervised netball on the newly constructed court at Gitenderi (including a certain fifty year old Donatta from Nyakabaya - see previous report!). For many of the girls participating it was the first time that they had played so I asked the teachers to run the games like a training session. The girls enjoyed playing so much that every-time they scored they would proceed to do cartwheels across the court.

Liz said to me afterward 'These are the craziest schoolgirls I have ever seen!' All I could say was 'Yep, welcome to schools in Kisoro!'

Rurembwe School seemed to get the biggest cheer of the day as the netball girls screamed and danced on the grassy court after they beat another team surrounded by an audience of six hundred. Not bad for a team who had never picked up a netball before today.

Teachers

All teachers who were involved thoroughly enjoyed the day and kept asking me when the 'next sports day' was.

They sometimes had trouble controlling their students as a goal produced somersaults and cartwheels by the pupils as the supporting school invaded the football pitch in euphoria. It happens in the adult games as well from what I have seen. It certainly adds to the atmosphere of the game and is a great show to watch.

I think that all the teachers saw how much the kids love playing sport and I hope that they will be that much more motivated to teach sport to the kids using the new facilities built by ACE at their schools.

A good way to summarise the feeling from the teachers that day is this quote from a teacher from Nyakabaya School -

'I have to go, my pupils are playing against Gitenderi School and I have to support them!'

Local Community

Many people from the surrounding area came to watch the games. It was funny to see the local villagers shouting at their girls as they played netball. They probably wanted to join in too but couldn't, due to a baby on their back or a hoe in their hand.

It seemed that the local shepherds were also watching the games, as there were a noticeable number of cows and goats mingling with the crowd. I had a feeling though that the cows were there more for the grass than for the volleyball!

Overall

As the songs went up and dancing started at the end of the day's sport, all I could see were smiling kids and happy teachers before me. All who had come had thoroughly enjoyed the day and they all wanted to know when the next 'Sports Day' was. I said it would be next term and that they should train for it, and everyone said that they would.

It was a day to celebrate the end of term, the end of exams, and the end of my time at these schools. I wanted all those who came to go on from this event and regularly play sport on the new facilities at each of their schools. The kids enjoy sport and enjoy playing sport at school. I believe that, if a child enjoys going to school, and doing something like sport it is one more reason for that, the child is more likely to stay in school and not drop out. It is disheartening to see only 20% of pupils complete their seven years in primary school here in Kisoro. I hope that at ACE schools the completion rate is higher than that and with Angela Peake's love and devotion I believe that it will be.

I know that the children here suffer to the full, suffering in the stranglehold of crippling poverty. It is on days like today that the children forget all the hardships of home and just enjoy being a kid for a few hours…

That is a nice thought.

April 28th 2008 Eden Quayle in Kisoro, Uganda

This is Eden's 10th Report, sent on 31st May 2008.

Mud Huts and Pumpkins: Home Stay on the Border of the National Park

So what is life like for the children at ACE schools? What happens when the school bell goes and the children return to the villages?

I have had these questions in my head since I arrived and began teaching at schools in Uganda. I know what life is like at school for these kids and realised early on that some of the school children actually like being at school and were reluctant to go home sometimes. A school is a place where buildings are made of brick and floors are made of cement, there is readily available water, and school is a place where children enjoy sports and learn interesting things. 'Home' is generally a mud and stick structure, soil is the only floor, and fetching water is just one of the many chores that children have to do when they get home. I could easily understand why some children were reluctant to go home.

I asked the children of Mukibugu Primary School if I could do a home stay and experience their domestic lives. A boy called Popius from P6 class raised his hand and said I could go to his house and stay. No one else raised their hand to offer their house so I accepted.

The next day I was walking up the hill towards Kabenero Village after the school bell had gone with Popius and other children from Kabenero Village.

The first thing I noticed was that Popius was carrying twenty litres of water in a yellow jerry can on his shoulder. He had filled up his jerry can from the school water tank and he was taking it home. I knew that other children did the same and even had to carry water for an hour or more as water sources were far away from the family home.

The next thing I noticed was that I was out of breath. We had been walking for twenty minutes and the school was getting smaller and smaller. The other kids looked as fresh as daisies but I was suffering. I wasn't used to walking so fast up a hill.

'How far to your village?' I asked.

'Up there, next to the Mgahinga National Park!'

I looked up and it still looked someway off. I paused and looked around. I saw fields of beans, lines of potato plants, mud houses dotted around, and stone walls made from volcanic rock. It was a lovely sight to see as we walked in the evening sunshine.

By the time I reached Popius's house we had acquired quite a crowd. I felt a bit like the Pied Piper as I entered the farmstead as fifteen other children had joined us. Popius's mother and sisters greeted me, his mother was dressed in typical peasant clothing. She wore a pink bandana, a pale sarong around her waste, and a woollen sweater. She smiled at me and I greeted her by saying, 'Mezute!'

She laughed and replied 'Ndaho!'

The strange white man was speaking her language!

The farmstead was made up of half a dozen structures mostly made from mud and sticks topped with a corrugated iron roof. One structure had brick walls and cement. I asked about it and Popius said 'It is my uncle's house - he lives in Kampala, and works in business'. He was probably the family member who provided for all the family members who lived in the compound.

A wooden fence made from crudely cut tree branches surrounded the compound. Two goats were tied in up in one corner and a granary stood in the other corner. I lifted up the granary roof and peered into the darkness but nothing was inside except a few husks of wheat. This is what most farm houses in this area look like.

'Aaah, the national park! We have made it!' I gasped.

Popius's house lay in the distance below us and the light was fading fast. Apart from Popius we had accumulated twenty other children. We all sat on the edge of the national park and took in the view.

There are views when silence and quietness are the only words you need and this was one of them. An orange halo on the horizon, Lake Mutanda in the distance, columns of smoke like streamers from the ground marking farm houses, hills like turtle backs everywhere you looked and the sound of utter silence. I just sat there speechless.

Kisoro Town was turning on its lights as the darkness crawled across valley like a quilt. It was the only place with electricity, I thought of my house and the electricity I had and felt a little embarrassed. I was living a very different life than of Popius and his family.

I had brought some beans, sweet potatoes and a large pumpkin for Popius's family. We sat in the living room waiting hungrily for the food. There was a single paraffin powered flame on the table in the middle of the room and I soon found out that this was the only light for the whole house. They could not afford to burn paraffin for every room. On the table was a book from Mukibugu's ACE-funded library titled 'The Aztecs'. Popius and his sisters were taking turns to read it. It was nice to see and I guessed that this was the only book in the house.

The food came out and the whole family gleefully ate. It was a treat to eat sweet potato and pumpkin for Popius and his family. I thought of the food that children in the U.K. ate and felt humbled that this family could delight in such basic food while kids in my country were demanding ice cream, chocolate bars and Coca-Cola.

'My sister Phiona likes the pumpkin very much!' Popius says to me.

'I'm glad she likes it' I replied.

'It is also her first time to eat it' he says as he spooned in some pumpkin himself. Phiona was six years old and this was the first time she had ever eaten pumpkin. I was a little stunned.

'What do you usually eat?' I asked.

'Beans… potatoes…usually' he replied.

'Do you ever eat meat?'

'Only at Christmas, it is too expensive' he said with a forced smile. I was offered Popius's mother's bed and felt obliged to take it. She would sleep with the children while Popius slept with the goats. I put my head down on my bag and slept on the padded matting, it was 10pm.

I awoke at around midnight and felt something biting me. I switched on my torch and looked at the freshly laid blanket Popius's mother had kindly given me. There were black dots jumping around and I guessed that they were fleas. On further investigation I saw a larger insect with a bulbous body on the sheet. I shone the torch on the adjacent wall; there were many more bulbous insects moving on the wall. I guessed that this one insect had fallen from there. I tucked all my clothing into each other, put my socks on and wrapped the blanket tightly around me.

'Let's see if the fleas can get through that!' I thought to myself.

Well they did, as I woke every hour or so to the sensation of biting.

The morning light came to my rescue and I got up. A breakfast of last night's beans and a goodbye photo later, we were headed back to Mukibugu school.

I had certainly experienced life in the village. I had eaten their simple food, seen the beauty of their countryside, understood the heart-breaking nature of poverty, and felt the hospitality and generosity of people who had very little. I also had been bitten dozens of times but could not complain as I had been given the best bed in the house.

It was nice to enter school the same way the children did. The teachers were astounded and amused that I had spent the night in the village. They told me that the bulbous insects were bed bugs and regaled me with stories of how they used to sleep with 'the goats'.

As I was going to class a girl called Jastine looks at me, she is standing awkwardly, but wants to say something to me.

'Hello Jastine, what is it?'

'Eden, you stay… my house too.'

---

This is Eden's 11th Report, written on 12th June 2008.

Kabami: Three Classrooms and a Garden

'This school used to have a "Grand Design" in the old days. Look here, you see how there are there is a roundabout and a driveway. The old entrance to the school would have been where the plastic water tank is now and would have led passed the church to the main road.'

The start of my two weeks at any school is one of excitement as I try and think about what I want to accomplish in that short time. For Kabami Primary School the discovery of faint outlines in the grass was the source of excitement, leading to my theory that the school had a 'grand design' long ago.

Kabami has many old classrooms that were built decades ago that are sadly not used any more due to falling into disrepair.

However, as I walked down the old driveway I could envisage how the school used to look, a central driveway leading to a roundabout that would have been the centre of the school. The classrooms were in a concentric 'C' shape around this central roundabout and a flagpole would have been flying proud and high on that roundabout right in the centre of the school.

'We will dig flowerbeds around the roundabout and put flowerbeds either side of the old driveway, this design should be rekindled.' I announced to the deputy headmaster.

'There used to be a headmaster long ago who loved Boys' Brigade. I remember marching around the flagpole with the brass-band playing when I attended the school as a boy.' The deputy was reminiscing a time from long ago, as was I, as I tried to imagine what the school used to look like.

It took a lot of work, two hundred pupils with hoes, and the help of the teachers. But when it was complete the school had an elaborate set of flowerbeds that, with a few roses, tulips and pansies could have been on 'Gardeners' World'.

Well… perhaps not - but from the hill above, with the newly completed playground and volleyball courts finished, the school looked splendid.

'The bishop is coming on Wednesday!' I exclaimed.

'Yes, here is his programme'.

He was coming on Wednesday - it was in black and white on the sheet of paper handed to me. All that was running through my mind as I looked at it was 'Can we finish in time?'

Two classrooms were being completely renovated by ACE with the workmen nearing 80% completion. I had started renovating an old staff room and another classroom. They were not in bad condition - a coat of paint, repairs to the floors, and repairs to the roof and shutters and they would be usable.

This picture shows the classroom before renovation began.

This was the inside.

When the workmen heard that the bishop was coming the following Wednesday they all pulled out a can of spinach like Popeye, squeezed the can, the spinach went in the air and into their mouths.

That was what it seemed like as their sloth-like movements on Thursday vanished like a cured sickness and they rushed round the site for the next three working days.

By Wednesday morning, the classrooms only needed a coat of blue oil paint, they were in all intents and purposes complete.

On my side, all the old staff room needed was a coat of white paint and the old classroom also needed painting.

I left halfway through the bishop's interesting, but totally incomprehensible, local language sermon to the parents of the school, grabbed ten boys and by the time the buffet lunch came at three o'clock we had finished painting the old staff room (right).

I had paint on various places of my body and a T-shirt on. I walked into the office and changed into something more appropriate for a buffet lunch with a bishop. When I emerged five minutes later in a suit and tie, the parents sat on the grass looking amused. They had seen me walk in with paint on my bare legs and now I was walking out in a smart suit and shoes. I heard them chuckle and talk excitedly as I walked past them towards where lunch was being served.

The bishop was very impressed with what he saw that day, and commended the work done by ACE and me.

By Friday, all the classrooms were complete, as well as the staff room.

The final project was the library. The library was in a room that had all the shutters nailed shut and one stack of shelves was actually in front of a window making it the darkest library I had ever been in. I have no idea how the children were supposed to read but I could notice by the cobwebs on the walls that perhaps this wasn't the busiest library in the world.

As 5pm arrived the desks were adjusted, dust swept out, and a final photo was taken. We had finished on the ring of the closing bell…..

There is a school next to the waters of Lake Chahafi, a few kilometres from the Rwandan border in the south western corner of Uganda that now has two volleyball courts, two football fields, a splendid set of flowerbeds around a grassy roundabout, two swings in a play area, two gleaming new classrooms built by a Cornish charity, one renovated classroom painted blue and white, an old staff room like new, and a nice brightly lit library.

It is called: Kabami Primary School.

Baloo, Bagira and Bukazi Primary School

Three hundred children were squeezed into a classroom the size of a large garage, some were sat on the floor, others were sat six to a desk but they all watching the same screen in front of them.

A roar of laughter went up as the bear on the screen started dancing and shaking his large posterior. The film on the screen was a classic Disney film in which a young boy befriends a bear called Baloo and a black panther called Bagira. The film was 'The Jungle Book'.

They loved the film and as I watched their three hundred faces all I could do was smile.

The battery on my laptop died just after Mowgli had escaped the clutches of the jazz mad King Louie. All the children then filed out of the classroom into the evening sun. They started playing on the swing and messing about in the compound, they didn't seem to want to go home and just wanted to enjoy the evening weather.

As I watched, a boy climb the flagpole to untie the Cornish flag that had got caught up at the top of the six-metre pole I knew it was time to go. The boy with the skill of a vervet monkey came down the pole with the Cornish flag, donated by ACE, following him.

It was one of my last schools in this ACE project and, as I looked down the compound to the netball court, the football pitch, the dry-stone wall completed that afternoon and the two swings standing like giant stick insects I was happy with the work done.

'Not as grand as Kabami but still a job well done' I thought.

The mason was finishing the blackboard in the old P2 classroom. I had only discovered that the classroom didn't have a blackboard and no paint on the walls earlier that week.

It had been a rush job to get it finished but it was amazing what a coat of paint, repaired window shutters and a new blackboard could do to a sorry looking classroom. It was empty when I first discovered it but next week it will have children from P2 class in.

The schools under the ACE programme are blessed as all of them have a positive glow about them these days. Work continues this very moment to make them better for Ugandan children and teachers alike. That is due to the hard work of all those back in England who give their free time and love to help those less fortunate than themselves.

The contractor Paul said to me on Saturday -

'What you have done for those schools is great work.You have increased the enrolment in all of the schools you have been to and attracted children back into school.'

I just wanted to tell you that is what everyone in ACE has done. Children who didn't want to go to school, children who had dropped out, children who had been taken out of school by their parents - they are now coming back to school.

Mukibugu Primary School attendance for the school year 2007-2008 = 456 pupils Mukibugu Primary School attendance for the school year 2008-2009 = 650 pupils

I may be here in Uganda and attracting kids into the ACE schools but I wouldn't be able to do any of this without the support of those back in Cornwall.

Keep up the good work and good luck with 'Open Gardens 2008'!!

Sandwiched between a Rainforest and the Congo

It is not easy travelling on a 125cc motorbike for two hours along a murram mountain road, with a Ugandan carpenter on the backseat and 10 kilograms of nails strapped to the back, but that is what I had to do to get to Nyarusunzu School.

The school lies directly north of Kisoro, twenty miles past the beautiful Lake Mutanda, sandwiched between the 20,000-year-old Bwindi Impenetrable Forest and the Congo border.

The first thing I noticed was that it had been raining at the school. I didn't understand how this could be so as it had not rained in Kisoro for one month as we had entered the African 'dry season'.

'The rain is due to the forest!' the head teacher replied. Having a large expanse of rainforest on your doorstep certainly causes things to be a little damper than usual. True to the region, just after lunch we had rain, it was nice to see rain again as after one month of dryness. I was beginning to miss the patter of rain drops.

Of all the schools I have been to, I felt the most welcome at Nyarusunzu. The teachers made me feel very comfortable and took care to answer my every request. I was served meat everyday, which is a luxury for most Ugandans in this area. They even requested that I stay 'forever' but all I could do was smile and to reply that I would be back the following week. They seemed to be happy with that although I will make sure I leave my details with someone before I head to the school next time in case I am 'adopted' by the natives.

I slept in a classroom that ACE had built and found that having no electricity or running water was actually quite nice. The sun went down, the stars came into view, and lanterns came out. We sat round three cooking fires and watched our food cook. It felt like I was camping but for people in this locality it is as normal as switching on the gas cooker or turning on the microwave.

The next morning, two parents turned up, and then another two, then three more. As the morning sun climbed into the sky more and more people came. It was the first time I had been to a school and had parents help develop the school. It was wonderful to see and I think the children were proud of the parents for helping out.

The school is built on a slope and I thought that having any kind of sports facilities would be impossible but with an enthusiastic, five-foot tall, headmaster and fifty hoes I guess anything is possible. By lunchtime we had finished levelling terraces into the slope to make enough room for two volleyball courts. With the balls ACE had provided an exciting game quickly took place.

'We have plenty of trees here', the head master said.

'Good. We will need some', I replied.

There were trees everywhere and also tree stumps standing around like giant mushrooms. Now I am a great fan of adventure playgrounds, so a few improvisations and a vivid imagination later, we made one at Nyarusunzu School. Rope swings, balancing beams; tyres hanging from trees, and a monkey rail were all constructed.

I have seen monkeys climb trees but when I saw these kids clamber over and under the balancing beams and along the monkey rail I had to keep reminding myself that they were humans. One boy even managed to reach the canopy of one tree and sat on a branch eight metres up. I was waiting for him let out a monkey howl but he just smiled and climbed back down.

I taught Origami (Japanese paper-folding) craft making to one class. We hung the completed origami birds from the classroom beams, making them look like a flock of birds heading across the desks below. The classroom looked great after we had finished.

Something surprised me on the following day. As I was teaching an English lesson, I walked past a desk and saw an origami bird on one pupil's desk. It was made from lined paper, which was not the paper I used the day before.

'How did you make this John?' I asked.

'Ooh, I remembered from yesterday' he confidently answered.

I found out that John was the brightest kid in the class and had answered many questions that I had asked that day already. To remember how to make an origami bird after one attempt is extraordinary. He is predicted to get high marks in his final exams. I sincerely hope that he is able to go to secondary school, as he could easily be a doctor or engineer, given the opportunity.

I never would have thought it, but this school, sandwiched between a rainforest and the Congo border, really surprised me. Teachers live 5 hours walk away from the school but decide to work here and sleep in the classrooms. The children performed very well in their exams last year, out-performing schools with better facilities and equipment.

The headmaster is probably the most active and hard working headmaster I know. He has created a school from one blackboard in a mud and stick, banana-leaved structure, and now the kids have the best playground and sports facilities in the area. ACE built a three-classroom block last year that brought the standard of the school to a high level.

The area is often very misty due to the rainforest. It is often shrouded in cloud, but it shines like a bright star in the north of this district. That has been largely due an energetic five-foot tall headmaster called Emmanuel and blonde haired lady from Cornwall with a charity called ACE.

'Miracles Happen'

Saying 'Goodbye' to Kiroso was a strange feeling, all people could say to me in reply was, 'When are you coming back?' I guess it was not really 'goodbye' at all but rather 'farewell' and when people were saying 'When are you coming back?' they were really saying 'We'll be here waiting for you when you return'.

I know that in life it is hardest thing to say 'goodbye' to something/someone you love. When you are in front of 1,500 children from six of your schools, and all the people who have made up the memories of your time in Kisoro are standing there, well it doesn't come much harder than that to say goodbye.

All I could see was children's faces that I knew, faces that had names, faces that had smiled and welcomed me to their school when I had visited. I thought I would feel sad but all I felt was happiness. Happy that I had come to a remote place in south-west Uganda, happy that I had tried my best to bring about positive changes in these schools, and most of all happy that I had made each school I touched a better place.

Were there tears?

Not then, but when I stood in front of Mukibugu school a few days earlier, (the school dearest to my heart) there were a few tears. The whole school assembled for me and I remember saying the words,

'I tried my hardest for you because… because… I know what your lives are like. Children in my country don't have to suffer the burdens that you do. They have good food; they have running water, and live in stone houses… (I thought of the home-stay I had done at Popius's house) Your lives are hard enough…'

I thought I was about to cry but Teddy the nice female teacher at Mukibugu beat me to it as I heard her weep quietly behind me.

I held my head high and then said,

'Thank you for the memories Mukibugu, I won't ever forget you.'

What about the future for these schools?

I feel like there has been a refreshing spring breeze blown through these schools. Certainly the amount of dust I found in some of the school libraries, a strong breeze was most definitely needed.

I sometimes felt I was being too candid with the schools, that I had pushed too much, but I only had a short time at each school and there were so many things to accomplish. Also, when, as a school, you have accepted standards that don't do justice to the children who come every day to your school, then you have to ask the question 'Why?'.

They probably didn't think I was going to do the things I did, but when you have the approval of the Kisoro Education Department, and Angela Peake you feel pretty confident about what you are doing. Not quite as confident as Michael Phelps, the Olympic swimmer, but pretty confident nonetheless.

I learnt many things and the schools learnt many things. I think the main thing the schools learnt is that it is possible to develop your own school. If you have fifty hoes, and creative teachers, you can do a great deal to improve your school. Many of the teachers already knew this but lacked the support to do anything. I hope the spring breeze has blown away some cobwebs and brought renewed confidence to the teachers. They are the hope for these schools in the future.

When I saw how hard those children worked in improving their own schools I knew that good things were going to result. It was great to see the children rush onto the volleyball court, after they had made it with their own hands, or for children to peer into a newly painted classroom to see what the head boy and his team of painters had done. I am grateful to all of them and to the teachers. Without their help, I would not have been able to do the things I did.

The future is bright for these schools as a fresh breeze has passed through them. That breeze originated in Cornwall and I hope that Cornwall continues to send its love to Uganda in the future.

This is Farewell

The last nine months have been amazing for me. Being back in Cornwall I have met so many wonderful people associated with ACE who make the charity what it is. It is heart warming to know that you were all wishing me well in Uganda and following what I was doing. I thank you for all your support and I thank Angela for her confidence in me and what I was trying to achieve.

I wish you could have seen what I have seen, met the children, laughed when they laughed, smiled when they smiled and found that we are all one people. They have the same hopes, fears, joy and anguish that we do. I only hope that, with the stories and pictures I show you, I can give you a glimpse of what I experienced.

It is a beautiful world out there, and miracles happen every day. All you got to do is believe it!

Someone very dear to me sent this poem to me in Uganda, and I wish to share it with you. It is called Desiderata and was written about 1920 by Max Ehrmann.

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.