Mostly a photo "trick or treat"

 Halloween: Photos for family beholders!!!!

Our friend Annie wins the award for best candy stop--the ole put your hand in here and grab some!!! No counted out candy going on here... In my defence, I did have candy (thanks to mom and Gwyn but I figured more houses on the tour were part of the fun, and passed it on to willing candy-givers!--Dad and Rachel)

Daniel, above helping carve the pumpkin--- a bit of a goopy process.  Now I have to see if we can cook the pumpkin... we only carved it Saturday; Ugandan pumpkins are delicious!  BTW, Edith told me that we could do the same thing, cut the top off and stuff the pumpkin with spaghetti or groundnut sauce... mmmmmm, now that sounds delicious also.

Last year our neighbor had an awesome costume and it had never occurred to me that the parents should dress up so, with not all my creative forces in gear, i went with grey clothing and face paint and bunny ears!!!!The girls are in traditional Ugandan formal wear--gomezis...A car of Ugandan colleagues passed us on the road and they were most impressed with these outfits though I think even the girls were a bit at a loss with the question, "so what are you?"... will think that through a bit better for next year. ;)

This photo is a picture of Carol Dennison and Baby Jean who were both ballerinas.  I included it mostly for those of you who know Dorothy and want to see how her daughter is getting so cuuuuuuuuuuteee, as our girls say.  And Carol with her curls reminds me so much of her brother David, one of Daniel's good friends.  Carol was pretty funny---she figured out pretty quickly that when you went to someone's door you were going to leave with some candy.  And she was a quick convert to the joys of Halloween. 

Our Rachel is at the age of embarrassment (I can't ever laugh at her these days, which is a real bummer because she does plenty to make me laugh).  Anyway, this was the first year they marched around with us and half way through I was carrying 35 lb Rachel and thinking, hmm... could have left her at home with Baby Jean.   Anyway, I think she'll talk about it like it was a good ole time so probably worth it. 

This shot was just pretty cute, and a picture of the little friendships that we do have on campus for which I'm very grateful.  While at times we all struggle with the best ways to integrate culturally, I don't think there is any real harm done with some same-culture moments of Halloween, whiffle ball, hockey, etc... I recently read my friend's blog where she said that her 12 year old daughter said she wasn't having too much "culture" shock (upon their return to England) and I think there is some middle ground between total cultural immersion and keeping some cultural traditions that help ex-patriate children understand their foreignness and sameness.   Or so I think at this point in time... 

I have some other thoughts generally about Halloween, but this morning, I'm teaching a two week part of the USP class on Henri Nouwen's book "Compassion"---I'm sure I'll have a few blogs on this subject as it'll be on my mind and it is always a reminder of a deeper call to solidarity in the lives of others who we care about.... 

A blog "bench" in mom's honor?

I've been thinking of my mom today and while this shot isn't exactly a best portrait, she is doing the thing that has caused me to think about her today.  She's reading.  And she's reading a library book to her grandson.  On her front porch; in the midst of a summer that she'd mostly like to forget, she's reading. And sharing her love of reading.  And with all the books we own, she's reading a library book. 

My mom emailed me today and requested a few photos of the library opening.  I directed her to my friend's blog, the wife of the architect who designed UCU's new library.  (Kris, if you read this and could also attach a few photos via email, my mom would be thrilled).  But let me give a little more background. 

From the time I (and any Noll kid) can remember, reading was the thing.   You basically could never pull the "i'm bored" card at our house.  How could anyone who could read be bored?  A part of the package that came via a UCU visitor was a collection of a few missing books that I'd left in Sewickley this summer-- A National Gallery of Art activity book for kids, a memoir by a Kenyan author (I ordered it for myself!:), a favorite collection of children's stories (which Grandpa read to the girls tonight), and another art book that I'd left.  If you are picking up on an art theme, it is there.  But that is part of it, books give us a glimpse into so many of our interests, lead us to meet the people we'll never get to meet in person, give us that look into other lives and perspectives.  

But more specific to this blog entry; a library is a mediator of all that bookishness-- it is a repository of all those books, all those interests, all those intersections of an individual and the "content" that lies within the written word.   One of the major projects that my dad took on in his last years as a Vice Chancellor at UCU was the building of a new library.   And yesterday was the culmination of those efforts of so many people.  But I can't help but think that a large part of why that was his final project was due to the woman he married.   While my dad is also very academic and loves the written word, there is something in my mom and her very visceral love of the page, the book, and all the places those books come from that lead me to believe that in fact the finished library is in part a culmination of her years of belief in the power of reading, and specifically reading a paper book.  

For various reasons my mom couldn't be at the official opening but I'm sure she'll tour the library in full kilt sometime soon. And mom, if no plaque or piece of art, or bench has your name emblazoned on it as part of the inspiration of the UCU library, let this blog and my sureness of heart, assure you that I know you are  part of the reason that thousands of college students in Uganda will read and study in a well-designed library. 

A few library quotations for mom:

Perhaps no place in any community is so totally democratic as the town library. The only entrance requirement is interest.  Lady Bird Johnson

It is, however, not to the museum, or the lecture-room, or the drawing-school, but to the library, that we must go for the completion of our humanity. It is books that bear from age to age the intellectual wealth of the world.  Owen Meredith

The library is the temple of learning, and learning has liberated more people than all the wars in history.  Carl T. Rowan

UN parade, kind of like Halloween parade?

So, today was "UN" day at Daniel's school---won't get into political views of the UN, but I would say that I enjoy the little parade of kids from all different countries (the head teacher said at least 39 countries/nationalities represented).

Daniel's class; a great group of kids

As we are pulling into school and Daniel sees a Japanese child and parents in kimonos, a Ugandan in a gomezi, a Norwegian with a big orange wig (World Cup???), he says, "I wish America had more national dress".  And I thought, as I've been forced to think more about by not being in America, there are Americans who have a more national dress.  Would it be wrong to let daniel wear the dress of a Native American next year with a sign--the first Americans?  Last year I was at the genocide memorial made by the Belgians in Rwanda---they have a section of the museum about other genocides and the first ones listed are "North America/South America--20 million and counting".   I was really irked-- I felt that it was a political jab; the Belgians were ticked that Dalier didn't protect the Belgian peacekeepers at the opening of the Rwandan genocide.  And yet, it did plant a seed of contemplation within me--- this is a huge part of American history that we sort of touch on at points but isn't really related to most of our lives.  This year I was talking to two of our USP students that really do have Native American roots; I don't think i've really ever known someone who could claim that they were "Native American"-- again, this can depend on tribe, family members, living on tribal land, etc.... My point is less the politics on this-- the recognition that as a Caucasian American living most of my life in those circles, I've never really known the reality of our heritage (majority of whom cannot claim original roots in North America).  One of USP students with Native American heritage said that she had researched the origins of Thanksgiving--that it wasn't a peaceful celebration but a celebration after a certain slaughter of Native Americans. YIIIIKKEEEESSSS.... It's on my list to look into this on my own, but certainly wouldn't surprise me and yet, I don't know that I'm ready to give up the one holiday in America that isn't based on consumerism and stuff.   Okay, this is a long ramble to say that my life overseas has caused me to consider my own cultural roots more, to reflect/mourn the parts of our culture that are based on human tragedy and loss, and to celebrate the beautiful and good things that our cultures embody.

On a more personal (less "now I know in part") note,  Daniel won an award for exceptional math skills.

So, my mother side is proud.  But my analytical side is also stirred... one night this week Daniel said to me, it seems like you like to try and figure people out.  This sentiment echos one that my mom said via her father--- as a child I visited them and he noted that I like TV shoes with people drama; he was sure that I was intrigued by figuring people out.   And so, I've definitely loved watching Daniel grow-- I've felt he's some mix of my father and of Mark and I'm super curious to see what that combo grows into.   He has strong left-brain abilities and logic and sense of responsibility (Mark), but he does have this sort of dramatic, confident side that seems happy to be noticed and is open/curious about learning about people/skills that take "center" stage.  Several years ago, Mark was at Sipi Falls with Daniel and Daniel trooped up to some group of adult men around a camp fire.  Daniel asked if he and his friends could join as they wanted to roast some marshmallows.  Those parts are definitely more like my dad than Mark.

More to come on a Mukono Halloween, the good, the bad and the scary!

Rainy day-- blessing or a bummer!?!

Here are several of the thoughts that go through my mind on a rainy day:

1. Oh, it's cozy-- should i check my phone for the time; if its only two or three, I can roll over and enjoy the cozy sound of rain on our tin roof.
2.  Did I leave anything outside that I'll regret--- this week I've left the bath mat "drying" outside for too many days only to find it more sopping wet after each rain.
3. If we have home-stay students, I always think of them trying to walk a mile or so to campus-- with all the mess and possible wipe-outs and splashing muddy puddles and arriving to class "unsmart"(Ugandans really value looking "smart"?  I say that I think of this, more out of compassion than any real anxiety---I've not heard of any real incident involving a rainy walk to school.
4. This is related to the last point, but I always think of our priority to arrive somewhere on time versus waiting out the rain.  I remember a Ugandan friend who was doing research in Norway and said she couldn't believe that you had to get where you were going no matter what level of freezing rain and weather was between you and your destination.
5. So, I think of Edith who helps me with the kids and the house.  She lives in a small one room place with her 10 year old son (other kids in boarding school) and she makes it to our house (about one mile) no matter what the rains are like... Recently, i came home and saw small white leathered sandals with heels and said, "edith, did you come in these?"  The marvel of how Ugandans navigate the muddy, rocky, uneven roads in unsupportive/unhelpful shoes!
6. Mark showed me some football player winning some award and saying that one of his life ambitions was to build his grandma a house.  When he asked his grandma (in the rural South of the US) what kind of house she wanted (the player had millions of dollars), she said, she'd like a house where when it rained she didn't have to wake up wet.   So many times when I'm thinking of the "hassle" of rain, the muddy foot prints, the kids pent up inside a bit, the driving in the rain, I pause and think of the majority of the world that wakes up wet when it rains.   To complain about inconveniences when most people in the world thank God that they lived each day is a very limited point of view.
7.  Rains also is an essential part of any agricultural society--- that said it is a balance; too much rain can be as bad for plants as too little.  And too many rains can lead to land slides in places where there is too much erosion.
8. In Uganda, rain on the day of any event is traditionally seen as a "blessing".  That said, tomorrow is UCU"s graduation and a library opening with more than a thousand people graduating at a muddy football pitch and a muddy road and 1000 women in  evening gowns and stilettos, is hard to exactly conceive of in relation to "blessing"!

Okay, some thoughts that I have on a rainy day!

Some of my favorite things!

 Grandpa and two girlies reading on the porch: i.e. letting me roam around and visit a little and take these photos!

The "stands"; part of benefit of whiffle ball games is the 30 minute productive/happy energy of the kids in setting up--and yes, that is a crested crane made of recycled metal and is sitting on a green plastic table that has made it for more than a decade in Uganda--handed down to me from Mama Peggy. The stands are also a place where moms and friends can catch up a little at the end of our days--our days which are full with all kinds of tasks, and details, questions, answers, struggles, joys, funny stories of life and kids and everything in between.  

I feel like it hard to give a perspective on the grandeur of this tree, so I'm giving a bit of a different angle 

A visiting pitcher-- Mark got to play ball today.  He's usually all-time pitcher.  Daniel just told me that Mark got an out of the park home-run--not sure that's been done before at Mukono Park North. 

Mark is great at organizing the regular whiffle ball games; one thing the kids know is that they are going to follow the rules.  Yesterday there was a moment when three kids were called out for running past each other en route to home base and not touching each base in the process.  I recall that Mark's mom told me a tale of overhearing him (as an 8 year old) at some kids sporting event, telling (yelling) at all the kids to follow the rules!!!! 

This is our tree near the end of the day and it provides hours of satisfaction to us, the residents beneath it; to myriad of monkeys who spend their days passing through and to all who pass by and behold its size, its elegance, its roots, its dappled bark, its lacy leaves, its gorgeous negative space... and I could go on. and I probably will some other time. :) 

Dads and boys and a goat in traction

While dads (Mark and Jeff ) and boys (Daniel, Noah and Kadin) had a weekend away in Jinja, the Bartels girls were at home in Mukono. On Sunday, the mission week began at Uganda Christian University, and while we used to call my mom the "mission junkie", I decided that I wasn't sure that I alone could handle the ambiguous timing of 2+hours of Sunday school (a topic for another day) that would occur as the main church combined two services for the opening of Mission week. This did mean that I missed out on "thanksgiving" a part of the main church service, where my dad was able to thank the UCU community for their weeks of faithful prayer for my mom. Because I had taken a cake and shared in a smaller women's fellowship (who had fasted and prayed every Wednesday for two months), I felt that I had been part of the family thanksgiving. Yet, I also am aware that having young children prevents me from some of the cross-cultural engagement that I would otherwise enjoy.

Meanwhile, my girls and I went out to my good friend, Christine's (wife of Jeff, mother of Noah and Kadin) house which is about an hour + drive.   I arrived at her house and thought, this is why I like Christine. She has a goat in traction on her front porch.  Later in the day, back in Mukono,  I was talking to Jeff when he dropped Mark and Daniel off.  I commented on the goat on his porch. He said, "oh, the goat that has been in our garage and bedroom all this week?" And I thought, this is why I like Jeff.

In a book I've been reading called The Family: A Christian Perspective on the Contemporary Home; the authors make compelling case for rethinking/re-understanding family roles and expectations.
One of the main gists is that the end goal is empowerment for each family member (and animal member?)

I appreciate the challenge of figuring that out with my family; and watching other families figure out what that looks like in the midst of life's responsibilities and in the midsts of different contexts.

Does Bartels in Mukono rhyme with Stones for Ibarra?

So, my sister recommended this to me. And my mom recommended it to her. And now I'm recommending this to anyone who lives in a foreign country or wants a picture of what it is like to live as a foreigner.... Here are couple passages in the opening chapters which sing with their truth and specificity and subtlety and humor and tragedy and all that gets lost in translation!

"At last the village found a word that applied to the North Americans.  It was a long word, mediodesorientado, meaning half-disoriented.  Like the child with the bandana over his eyes who turned ten times in a circle before being handed the long stick to break the pinata hanging high above his head.  AS he flails at his elusive prize, a paper rooster stuffed with candy, he strikes the empty air in all directions.  Everyone about him laughs.  The blindfolded child laughs." 

When white people first move to Uganda, they adjust to their own self-consciousness-- the whiteness of their skin marking their "foreignness" for all.  In Uganda, children everywhere will yell, "mzungu". Let's turn to Wiki: 

Mzungu from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

Mzungu (pronounced [m̩ˈzuŋɡu]) is the southern, central and eastern african term for "person of foreign descent". The term was first used by Africans to describe early European explorers. It is now commonly used in most Bantu languages of East, Central and Southern Africa. Especially in Kenya, Tanzania, Malawi, Uganda and Zambia.

In Swahili, the plural form of mzungu is wazungu.[1][2][3] The possessive kizungu (or chizungu) translated literally means "of the aimless wanderers". It has now come to mean "language of the aimless wanderers" and more commonly English, as it is the language most often used by Wazungu in East Africa. However it can be used generally for any European language. To distinguish between English and other European languages kiingereza in Swahili, chingeleshi in Bemba or lungereza in Luganda are used and are simply Africanized version of the word English by Epenthesis. Wachizungu, Bachizungu etc literally "things of the aimless wanderers" have come to mean the Western culture, cuisine and lifestyle.

Mzungu can also be used to describe an employer or the person who pays, regardless of gender or colour.[4]

The etymology of the word stems from a contraction of words meaning "one who wanders aimlessly" (from swahili words zungu, zunguzungu, zunguka, zungusha, mzungukaji-meaning to go round and round; from Luganda okuzunga which means to wander aimlessly ) and was coined to describe European explorers, missionaries and slave traders who traveled through East African countries in the 18th century.

Mzungu is preferred because Central and East Africa people do not link people of European origin to the "white" color. This is because the concept of color coding ethnicities is not a part of their culture. Actually they consider people of European origin to be reddish or pinkish.[5][6] For instance in Kinyarwanda and Kirundi, European people are also known as rutuku which means red.

So, you can see that the etymology: one who wanders aimlessly is quite a bit like "half-disoriented" and as much as some ex-patriates resent the tone/value which comes across in various contexts of this nature, I find that laughter is in fact the best option for us all.  For the Ugandans who receive us and all our certainty (read:cultural arrogance), I hope more often than not, you can laugh and talk about us among yourselves.  And as a foreigner who sometimes needs parts of my home culture, against all host cultural norms, I am working on laughing more often than I judge, justify, ridicule, guilt-myself.... 

A couple more examples from this book: 

A Mexican woman is explaining the American woman to her friends; "When she is with children the senora reduces herself to their age.  But an hour later she will tell their mothers not to have any more and explain how not to.  In conflict with the pope.  In conflict with God." 

I don't exactly know how to explain how true this paragraph has been in my experience, but I'm deferring to the author's description.  And how often I've longed to be inside the minds of the women who help us with our children as we spend money and time and energy "playing" with our children and yet also communicate our judgment on Ugandans for shipping their kids off to boarding schools, for spending all Sunday at Mothers Unions meetings and not at home with their children, for not "playing" with their children.   And yet, ultimately the Western world has a birthrate of like .5 children and we're saying that we value children more because we're more "intentional".  A lot of blanket statements here, but I do think the author has hit a nail on the head. 

On a more superficial note, one that I personally struggle with OFTEN, here is an example of where the American is being laughed at about her "interior design":

".... Remedios uncovered a further extravagance at the Evertons house. 'They are scraping off green paint in the kitchen, hall and sala so they can whitewash the walls.  They have employed Miguel Velasquez to chip away at the paint which is still in excellent condition"

Oh, so true... I'm currently debating a new color in my living room.  And yet, this part of me is sitting write in the middle of this book, aware of how superfluous these interior decorating needs are... how wasteful on one level, how ungrateful I am for the good paint on my walls....  On the other hand I also think that I'm the one most judging myself for this--that over the long haul, a sort of contented presence in Uganda is more of a gift than a scarcity/resentment/compartmentalization, etc.   Well, I'm letting the paint decision percolate a bit longer---will write about it if I do it.  For now, I'm working on the "laughing" at myself.  

What's in a bag?

Elizabeth Cady Stanton: Woman will always be dependent until she holds a purse of her own. 


Random person: A woman's mind is as complex as the contents of her handbag; even when you get to the bottom of it, there is ALWAYS something at the bottom to surprise you!

So, I don't know how existential to be about my purse, but since I didn't really know where to begin each day, figured this was as good a spot as any.

First, my bag.  Was proud of myself this last summer for my cool fabric quilted black bag.  Seemed washable, neutral, pocketful, just the right size and I liked it.  No more variety of bags, just one black bag that I could use everyday.  And in fact, i have used it every day for the last three months.  However, several weeks ago, this Mac book air came to replace the laptop stolen from my luggage at Entebbe (or Atlanta or Amsterdam).  Thankfully, delta reimbursed us and we bought a second-hand mac which is part of the source of my starting this blog (i.e. I could carry the computer with me to town on the days I commute with Daniel).  HOWEVER, the laptop did not fit in my handy bag.  So today, I bought a new bag... the colorful, also washable, also basically right size with a few less pockets--which might be okay because try as i may, i never actually manage to put the same useful things in the pockets which basically still renders them useless when the phone is ringing and I'm trying to answer while carrying three bags of groceries into the house and receiving multiple "mommy, look at this" greetings.   Okay, so that covers the purse and the laptop. :) 

Now, pens... last january Mark gave me some pens for christmas because i can get very angry at locally made pens which like locally made paper products can be very trying for the impatient among us. So, what you see is an assortment of pens, which like socks which lose their mate in the dryer, always seem to lose their tops.

A little container of ibuprofin, my go-to medicine.  I try and keep up with my water and caffeine intake but when the day defeats me, nothing like a little ibuprofin to fix me up. 

A lovely little notebook that is just so pretty to look at that my sister gave me for my birthday this year. Handy for enjoying and also writing myriad list which include groceries, christmas plans, life details, house improvement ideas, people i need to call or contact, etc. 

Two calendars; got to finish out this year and plan for next year. Nothing we futurists like more than a little planning that goes way beyond one's actual control and information!  Just enough to drive our concrete/"content" companions crazy! :)

The Eye Magazine; a local guide to restaurants, lodges, miscellaneous in country details--- I've written a couple art related articles for that magazine and if i was cool i would know how to link you to those on this very blog.  but if you are realllllllly interested i think you could find them online. :) Anyway, it is a great resource for expatriates in Uganda. I don't know if it should be a point of honor or shame that various friends tell me that I could write the restaurant/coffee bar guidebook to Kampala! 

Money--- I'm not going to zoom in on it but one big difference that we have in Uganda is the very cash based nature of all transactions.  I'm often walking around with the equivalent of five hundred dollars--for fuel, groceries, office supplies, air time (you load time into your phone), money an employee needs, or medical bills, etc, etc.   

Receipts--If you don't know Mark well------- he loves details of all kinds, but especially about money. :)  Early in our marriage it was a big adjustment for me to keep every receipt and categorize it and pass it on, etc, etc.  But ten years in, and among various responsibilities and realities, I'm very grateful for the early training that has allowed us track our money well and evaluate our values and stewardship well (i.e. lots of evaluating going on especially due to our context and our desire to live well in all senses of the words)

So, is this way more than you ever wanted to know about my bag.  Am I setting myself up for a robbery, as i photograph the valuable contents of the green,yellow and blue striped bag roaming around kampala?

Going for it; an intro to my blog

Hey all!  Here goes me... trying to blog... to who? about what? for how long?  I don't know but I decided to just go for it before perfectionism gets the better of me.

In the last year I've started reading some friends blogs and I've really enjoyed getting a picture of their life, what they are doing, and thinking about, and becoming.

So, I'm going for it.  I figure that I also will probably gain the most for having forced myself to record my thoughts and for having a record to look back on later.

I chose the title of the blog because I love analyzing the stew out of everything, and most especially myself.  All of this does beg the question that has stopped me from blogging in the past--is the whole endeavor a bit narcissistic--- like who wants to read all me and what I'm thinking?  Well, if you've gotten this far, you do. :)

Where to begin? I think I see my primary journeys of the heart/soul unfold in several big areas of my life; living in Uganda, being a mother, figuring out my creative contribution, and generally seeking to live out the Prayer of St. Francis some way, some how.

The other significant thing that I should point out if it is not painfully evident, is that I don't know anything about the process of blogging and the "templates", "statistics", "security", "coolness", "linking to other people's cool stuff", "linking updates to facebook", having cool quotations, books, photographs, music, etc, etc...... I will take no offense at all if those who know more than I jump on and tell me what to do.  Now that might presume that I know how to read your comments or that I know how to tell you how to find this blog. :) Anyway, I suppose an additional part of the journey might be me figuring out how to do some stuff online with internet speed equivalent to dial-up 10 years ago.

Welcome to my world!