Why I love my new job

1.  My work is mentally stimulating.  Even when it's difficult and annoying, it's still an improvement on the previous job where I was bored out of my mind.
2.  I get to work in my home town.
3.  This means I get to cycle to work!  I say it like it's a gift, and you cannot imagine how pleased I am.  For ages the long commute at the old job bothered me as it had to be taken by car.  The 60+ minutes it took to get somewhere that normally only took 30 minutes.  The exhaust emissions (and everything that goes with that).  The constant road accidents.  The dulling effect it has on your brain to be sitting in traffic for an hour every morning for no discernible reason.  But now.... THIS:

Cycling takes me 15mins, of which I'm on a road for a total of 2mins.  The rest of the time I'm zipping along the canal towpath, which has surprisingly few pedestrians in the morning.  There is no noise, there is no smell, there is no danger of being crushed by a lorry.  I don't have to worry about traffic jams or parking spaces.  I can go to the doctors or the dentist, because I now work in the catchment area I live in.  I get home feeling like I've actually been outdoors and done something useful and active.  I leave home later than ever before and get home earlier - and I'm satisfactorily tired when I do!  Even when the weather's rotton, there's the satisfaction of having beaten it when you arrive at your destination, and I have waterproof trousers for the rest.


And it's beautiful.  Check out the ice beginning to form, next to the frost-tipped grass on the bank.  You don't get to see that on the motorway!

Getting Out - Prelude

I needed a holiday.  I know people always say that but it’s still true.  Or not even a holiday, but a lack of …civilisation.  The previous weekend I found myself pacing in the office.  Literally pacing, like the big cats you see in the zoo, going quietly nuts.  Clocking out couldn’t cure it and I spent the rest of the evening in a lovely wee melancholy and had to take myself out of town and off to the top of Beacon Hill for a few hours to sort my head out.  It was a good decision in the end, because if I hadn’t gone I would have missed this phenomenal sunset.  

It helped.  At any rate it patched me up enough to get through the next week, until I could make my escape!

Warning: contains dead thing

Hmm, a very dramatic title.  I don't know if I'm just a bit weird (no, actually I do know that) but I've never had a squeamish nature for dead things.  Which is handy, considering what I'm about to show you...

This is a badger.  This badger is dead.
Still with me?  Good.
You can see he's (she's?) next to a road, so I'm going to assume it got hit while crossing.  No blood in this instance.  There was a couple of weeks in April where I kept seeing roadkill badgers - probably they had just come out of hibernation and were a bit groggy and sleepy so not properly obeying the green cross code.  It wasn't gross or disgusting, just dead.  I suppose that besides my Christian perspective of death, I take the view of Hogarth in The Iron Giant; "It's bad to kill, but it's not bad to die" so I don't have the aversion some people might have.  A couple of days later I passed the spot again and it was gone, removed by the council and thrown away.  Obviously I didn't touch it, but it was still pretty cool to be able to inspect such a reclusive and rarely-seen animal up close.  They really are beautiful creatures.

Here's something else beautiful (and not dead).

Foxgloves.  These ones are growing in our drive,  So lovely, so iconic... and so very very poisonous.  Don't eat them, they are quite capable of killing you.  I'm not sure why you would try to eat them, but don't.  Nevertheless, I'm not going to pull them up, I like them.  I think it's good to have something to keep a weather eye on.  Gives you a healthy sense of respect and perspective.

Death is always something sad, something we know in our inner beings isn't quite right, isn't supposed to happen, but at the same time it's very much a part of the world we're in.  Death is a part of everyone's journey, and whether or not you choose to worry about it, try to delay it, or attempt to dodge it altogether, there it is still.  Part of the paradox, part of the dichotomy, part of life.

Why I don't want to be a Princess

Princess culture is everywhere.  There's this strange notion, and I'm not quite sure where it came from, that every little girl and every grown up lady has a princess inside of her, just waiting to emerge.  Been to a Disney Shop lately?  (Disney, I love you and you are my childhood but seriously, do you have any female characters over the age of 5 who are not, or do not become, princesses by the end of the story?). 

That's what we all want, right ladies?  To be told we are beautiful and to be treated like a princess.  Adverts tells us this, film tells us this, I've even seen 'self-help' books and books about being a Christian woman built around the idea that every woman just wants to be a princess (please note, I have never opened this book and after reading the blurb I'm not going to).  Now admittedly this is partially true - we are all fearfully and wonderfully made, and if God is King then as His daughters we are all princesses by definition - but in western culture the word princess comes with a pretty specific job description.

It's the job description I have a problem with.

Now maybe it's just my tomboyish childhood (oldest of four kids, co-opted for helping Dad with the DIY, tree-climbing, archery lessons, hours spent reading books which statistically have a higher proportion of male protagonists - the very fact that they are protagonists makes them more likely to be male) but the idea of a being a princess never really appealed to me.

This is first image that appeared when I googled 'Princess'. 
It makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a spork.

Adventure time!

It was my friend Hannah's birthday this week, so when her brother won some free tickets to Bristol Folk Festival she very kindly asked me and our friend Jamie to go with them!  HOORAY!!!  The first thing that was needed was a birthday card.  I really like making cards that are relevant to the person or what they'e doing to celebrate.  Providing I keep having the time to do these things I don't think I'll be able to go back to buying cards from shops.  These are just so much more interesting.

On the inside I wrote her a Scavenger Hunt, full of all the things (based on my limitied experience!) I thought we might see.  She loved the card, and really took the hunt seriously!  It turns out the whole festival is held in one building in the city centre (a very sensible idea considering the weather we've been having lately) so things like wellies and a waxed mac weren't around but she got almost everything else, including three successively more fantastic beards and a couple of extra items we added to the back.

It was a great day, with loads of interesting things to see and do, and some great acts to hear.  One of our highlights of the day, and a new discovery for me was Luke Jackson, a 17-year old singer/songwriter with a wonderfully controlled singing voice that would trick you into thinking he's older.  Hannah very badly wanted to see him perform but we got held up on the way to the hall and just caught the last two songs.  However we serendipitously bumped into him in the corridor later on and Hannah, being the sociable girl she is, immediately struck up a conversation.  

Hannah meets Luke

Later on, when one of the acts filled out their hall, he agreed to do a second performance for the stragglers, which we happened to arrive for just at the perfect time!  We wandered into a near-empty hall and made a beeline for the very front seats.  His set was great, including a really slick version of Wayfaring Stranger, a selection of his own songs, and the haunting traditional tune Oakham Poachers.  I think I'm now a fan!

Our other highlight was ahab, a three-part band (normally four but one was off having his appendix taken out, which seems a reasonable excuse.  Not that the other lads agreed - they kept fondly mocking him for slacking off) with an American folk feel to their music and some fantastic close harmonies.  They came on after a slightly depressing act and really changed the mood by having great laugh on stage.  Favourite songs were 'Wagon Wheel', 'Run Me Down', and 'Lightning Bug' and ... well actually the whole set was awesome.

Who needs a PA system? Not us; we have manly man voices and a bobble hat!

In between all that there was Morris Dancing to watch, stalls to investigate, and dulcimer playing to learn.  This was my call - I saw the word Dulcimer on a sign and abandoned the others to toddle off and explore.  A dulcimer is a member of the zither family (stringed instruments where the strings are no longer than the sounding box) and they had both types there for us to see and try: the 'mountain' or 'lap' dulcimer and the considerably more complicated 'hammer' dulcimer.  Within seconds of introducing myself I was sat on a chair with an instrument across my knees.  The mountain dulcimer I was shown had two pairs of 'drone' strings that provide the chord, and then one top pair that provides the tune which you play as you would the fretboard on a guitar.  You strum all three together as though they were one string, and the result is a deliciously tangy, buzzy sound which is very distinctive.  Most of the ones on display were made by dedicated hobbyists and each had it's own personality reflecting that of it's maker. 

Dulcimer demonstration by Nonsuch Dulcimer Club

We have a try

Jamie finds a cape!

There was also, as you would expect, a ceilidh to take take part in.  It wasn't even a question as to whether or not we would go.  Both Hannah and I love ceildh dancing, and with at least fifty people doing every dance there was a great sense of energy in the room.  The great thing about ceilidhs is that you don't need any experience to get started because there is a caller yelling out the moves to you, but as you get a bit more advanced you can start adding in your own quirks and tricks.  One couple next to us; a small energetic young woman and a tall man in a kilt (who Hannah immediately decided she wanted to dance with!) had clearly done this many times before, but a lot of enthusiasm and a willingness to look a bit silly from the rest of us goes a long way.  We did well at some dances and failed dramatically and hilariously at others, I taught Jamie to polka, and Hannah's brother Dave does an excellent do-si-do.

We were sitting down to catch our breath before the last song when the man in a kilt came over to our table and asked me if I'd have the next dance with him.  This has never happened to me in my life before:
1) Asked to dance
2) By a man in full Scottish regalia.  I believe a lot of Jane Austen books begin that way :)
Obviously I said yes, not sparing a though for the birthday girl.  The dance was Strip the Willow, which can be a bit... perilous so it was good to have a partner who knew what they were doing. He even thanked me for the dance afterwards, even though I briefly forgot my left from my right at the beginning.  Possibly I was a bit flustered by the kilt-i-ness!

We spontaneously decided to stay late for Karine Polwart and Show of Hands, who were headlining, and Hannah's brother generously put us up for the night.  It was such a great day, and lovely to spend so much time with Hannah.  My life is very busy, and hers is even moreso, so to have a whole 24 hours just hanging out with her was a real treat.  She's one of the coolest, most caring people I know.  Although I'll remember all the acts we saw and the big events of the day, some of the best moments were the little inbetween bits.  The throwaway comments, the jokes, the discussing, the telling of stories, tiny things we'll probably never recall exactly but which make spending time with the people you like best really worth it.

Birthdays are very tiring!

Uganda Diary Day 10: Welcome back

April 13th – Friday

Today we flew home. The entertainment system was working on the plane this time round, so after more gawping at the extravagant nature of the technology we settled down and blocked out the flight with stories. I managed to make my way through Doctor Who – Let's Kill Hitler, Sherlock – The Hounds of Baskerville, The Lion King (trust me to go for the kids channel!), and The Artist, which I’d been meaning to watch for a while, but this marathon included regular stops to stare out of the plane window some more. With this flight in daylight I could make sense of what I'd seen in the dark on the way over, and most of it was desert. The plane approximately follows the path of the Nile north, so we few over first the Libyan Desert, and then the mighty Sahara. Seeing the empty vastness and the shifting dunes below I felt like a character from a Tintin book. I've never seen anything like it.

Sunrise at Entebbe airport, our last morning in Africa

Uganda Diary Day 9: Goodbye Kabubbu

April 12th – Thursday

Most of this morning was the mad race to finish the posters for Susan. Apart from a quick Scrabble break to give the Sharpies a chance to recover and get the marker fumes out of my lungs I got them all done by 3pm. Susan was out of her office so I dropped them off with a colleague instead. I also got a chance to sneak a peek at Mum and Emma's puppetry lesson.

One of the 10 posters.  There's an 18 letter word in one of them.  Seriously!  18 letters!

The Kabubbu puppetry class, passing with flying colours

Uganda Diary Day 8: The source of the Nile/"Tea anybody?"

April 11th – Wednesday

First, can I just tell you about the nights here? When I learned we would be coming to a rural area I assumed the nights here would be quiet.  Instead they are filled with the sounds of birds, frogs and bugs all ticking and whistling and chirping and chirruping together. Beyond that is the occasional howling chorus of the village dogs and tonight the sound of a loudspeaker down at the trading centre. As for what I can see, the security lights in the resort are still on but every few seconds the sky to the east is lit up with a phenomenal brightness that can only be distant lightning, too far away down the valley for us to hear the epic thunder that will be accompanying it. Above the stars are bright, if a hazy, but I can only spot one constellation I am familiar with – Orion – and he is bent over on his side like an old man.

We stopped en route to the Nile to check out some waterfalls.  An astonishing volume of water.

Uganda Diary Day 7: Boogie on down

April 10^th – Tuesday

Puppets at the assembly today, which went down really well.  Dad was telling the story rather than doing it to a CD track or song, so there was more leeway to react to the audience and make time for comedy.  When the farmer in our story scattered the seed we were able to lob real seed at them, and when he waters the crop we sprinkled real water out of the watering can!

Uganda Diary Day 6: Showtime

April 9^th – Monday

No school today so it's off to the orphanage for decorating.  Two rooms are done now so we were sanding and plastering and putting the base coat on the new room.  We'll add the colour on the lower half tomorrow.

From start...

...to finish

As usual there were kids milling around, most of them with good English despite being only 7 years old.  I find I enunciate more here, avoiding slang and borrowing some of their sounds to emphasise things (“Ehhhh!?”).  Sue and I were chatting and I got to try out some of the words I'd learned from Ruth's kids.

Do-keh  - Banana tree

Nyoomba – House

Gaar – Bicycle

Coco – Chicken

My teachers. From left to right: Nurugambe, Grace, Chiaga, Sandra and Christine

Uganda Diary Day 5: Easter in Africa

April 8^th – Sunday

Enoch gives the Easter sermon

Happy Easter!  Eh Bible eh gamba owakabaka bwa katona boli bo-fe (dodgy phonetics mine!), which means 'The Bible says “The Kingdom of Heaven is within us.”'  Today I went to an Easter Sunday service in Kabubbu, held in the high school hall, and found this to be very true.  Our hosts graciously did the speaking parts of the service in English for our benefit and then translated them over to the congregation.  Most of the songs were in Ugandan, but even though I couldn't understand the words I felt very much a part of the community then as I could easily read their posture and expression – they looked just the same as we do when we worship God back home and it really reminded me that these people are not just my hosts or interesting foreigners to be observed, but my brothers and sisters in Christ.  Although we've never met, we are family.



Enoch did the sermon and he was great.  Very funny guy.  Also this year marked the 6^th Anniversary of him and Lilian coming to Kabubbu.  It was a real honour to be able to join the rest of the church in reaching out a hand and praying for them.  Whatever language we were using, we were all speaking under the authority of the same God.  Felt very privileged.  God is great!

Uganda Diary Day 4: Retail Therapy

April 7^th – Saturday

Lie-in this morning, which was good as we had judged correctly and all had backs aching horrifically.  We did a puppet show at 10am for the kids from the lower school who were brought over specially and really enjoyed it.  Of course they didn't understand most of the words, but they loved all the visual stuff, the dancing and actions and pictures, and Dad was on hand with their teacher to explain what was going on.  They'd seen puppets before but not quite like this and we could hear them all laughing from behind the stage.

Assembly at Kabubbu primary school

The William Parker lot were off visiting the Nile today so lunch was pretty quiet, and afterwards we had to discuss what we wanted to get for Ruth as part of the Development Challenge.  Geraldine was there to ask all the difficult questions and we had asked Enoch, the director of the project, about prices.  In some ways it was good because haggling over what we could and couldn't do with the time and resources we'd been given brought it home to me that this wasn't just an engaging game, we were affecting a real family so we had to do our very best. 

Uganda Diary Day 3: Getting stuck in

April 6^th – Friday

So today we were brick-throwing, forming a human chain from the bottom of the hill where the truck dumps the large clay bricks, to the top of the slope.  They are for the locals digging a new latrine pit for the boys dormitories at the high school.  It's basically a hole the size of the pickup truck that goes down about 40ft.  They are layering the bricks round the inside of it, walking happily along scaffolding made of bamboo and old planks.  We worked from 8:30pm until about 11:30 then went to watch the high school's sports day.  It was good work once we got ourselves organised, although there were a few accidents; blisters, and bricks thrown badly and dropped on toes.  It was the biggest brick team of the week and the weather cloudy and cool today, but I have major respect for the William Parker lot who have been at it for four consecutive days.  I'm not physically tired, but I think I'll feel it in my muscles tomorrow.


Latrine building in progress.



Our brick throwing chain.  Some of the local kids got stuck in too, and hauled clay like the best of us.

Uganda Diary Day 2: Welcome to Kabubbu!

April 5th – Thursday

Attended the primary school assembly this morning and watched the William Parker Sixth Formers that are also visiting this week do a play for the kids. Stories seem to be popular, so it's encouraging for the puppet show we’re putting on later in the week. Still not sure how the songs will go down as they are in English and, although most of the kids can speak it well enough to hold a conversation it’s not their first language.

Inside my shared banda, with mosquito nets above the beds

Our banda is really neat. It's a little hut with a surprisingly large bathroom and mosquito net above the bed. It's strangely nice to sleep under a net, like having your own little tent, although the chance of mozzies is slim here because of the cut grass and lack of standing water.  The water we use comes from the borehole pumps or the rain collection tanks. There are bugs though, lots of them. The main ones are giant flying ants who seek out light and then drop their wings. There are piles of wings all over the place but when they're in flight they're really quite beautiful.

Uganda Diary Day 1: Planes, brains and automobiles

3^rd April 2012 - Tuesday

So here I am 33,000ft above the Mediterranean Sea, heading south to Entebbe airport in Uganda. I've got a wing seat, which is always my favourite – I've not flown scores of times but I do usually seem to end up near the wing. It never ceases to amaze me that those two flat planes of wing can lift a massive metal bucket off the ground.

After 3 hours the TV channels have finally started working, and while this wasn't a huge problem as this is a night flight and we'd kind of got used to the idea, I had just exhausted the dozen or so crosswords in Mum's magazine, so that's good! Chances are it'll break again in a bit [It did.] Either way this will be my last bit of telly for a week and a half, which I'm actually quite pleased about. Although there is phone signal in Kabubbu I won't be using it. In fact there's a couple of things that are already pleasing me about this trip:

Oli Otya?

The answer you're looking for is "Gyendi!"  ("Hi, how are you?" "Fine thanks"), at least if you're where I've just been.  I've just returned to the lovely drizzly British Isles after spending ten days in the significantly hotter, but equally wet (it's the rainy season) jungles of Uganda, where I've been volunteering with the Quicken Trust in a village called Kabubbu.  They like their visitors to get stuck into life in the village, which is just how I like it - our family don't really do spectator holidays!- so I've been throwing bricks and painting walls, playing international Tug'O'War, eating (and for the most part heartily enjoying) every bit of food put in front of me, and walked everywhere surrounded by a gaggle of small clingy children whose English is surprisingly good!

Making new friends!

A typical house in Kabubbu

Uganda is an amazing place.  From meeting with Geoff and Geraldine Booker from the Quicken Trust I did have some idea of what I might see before I went out there and was surprised to find that I wasn't particularly shocked by anything, as I expected to be.  With hindsight I think that the media portrayal of African countries by the West is often very sensationalist, and even with doing some background reading before I went out my understanding was not good.  Some of the people I met on my travels were in heartbreaking situations and hardships, but I also met a vibrant and character-ful community who were resourceful, hard-working, and more welcoming to us mzungu (foreigners) than most of us in the west remember how to be.  That side of things doesn't get shown on the news very often.  On the plus side, not knowing what to expect meant that I got to see everything with fresh eyes.  It's funny how you go to a new place and the things that strike you the most are the ones that make you reflect on life back home.

The outskirts of Kampala, Uganda's capital

I've come back with a head full of stories and ideas, and as usual I've recorded the entire trip in words, photographs and drawings.  Over the next few weeks I'll be posting it all up here, hopefully a new diary entry every few days as most of them are quite long.

Here was our team: