Christmas 2013

Merry Christmas and Seasons Greetings Friends and Family!

Rather than an update on the last year... or two (forthcoming when I have those quiet nights with no electricity on site). Here is an update and some sharing from my time thus far in Uganda.  It's a lot, so read it in pieces, when you're bored, or wondering what I've been up to.  Worshiped this morning with our catholic brothers and sisters at Church of the Martyrs in Namagongo.  I've been told it is a historic landmark from the 19 century when missionaries first came to Uganda.

Love you all!

Paul Benz the Younger

Saturday Nov, 30 2013

It is Thanksgiving weekend here in Uganda and I wanted send a long overdue thank you to all of you for your help in the process, which has brought me here.  Some of you as current or former Peace Corps Volunteers answered my many questions throughout the lengthy application process, some of you wrote letters of recommendation or agreed to have your name submitted as a reference for work or volunteer activities over the years, some of you have offered me constant counsel and good company, some of you have employed me or prayed for me, and some of you have even offered contacts here in East Africa.  To all of you I say thank you, and for all of you I am grateful.

My official title is Literacy Specialist and the United States Peace Corps has assigned me to a community in Southwestern Uganda for the next two years where I will report sometime in late January or early February after training is complete and we are all sworn in as volunteers.  There are 44 in our training group, all assigned as Education Officers either Primary Teacher Trainers or Literacy Specialists and we’re 3 weeks into a 3 month training period.

I'll be sent out so a community in a remote area of Uganda as an Education Officer.  The idea is that I do more capacity building and development than merely functioning as a substitute teacher.  So the details of my work activity will be more clear once I arrive at site and assess what exactly the school and community need particularly regarding literacy.  Once I have a clear picture of what the need is I begin the task of working with the school and community to set goals on meeting those needs in a sustainable way.  The notion is that if you can improve the classroom culture and approaches to learning you can change and entire school and empower people who will one day lead their communities and country.  How would you define community? This word is thrown around a lot and like many other words (critical thinking is a great example) I think it’s worth while to hone our bs detectors from time to time and think about words we use and that others use to better understand what others are actually saying or trying to say and to make attempts that we are clear in our own words.  I'll just pose the question and let you ponder as you wish as I surely will in the coming months.

Here in a hodgepodge way are some of my moments thus far I hope this finds you well and living:

Tuesday November 11, 2013 

This morning looked out my Hotel window at the snow blowing gently into the streets of Philadelphia and occurred to me I might not see a scene like this for quite sometime. I smile into the quiet of Philadelphia’s morning.  A few blocks away is that old cracked bell I wondered at when Mom and Dad brought us to see all the History America’s East Coast has to offer.  Didn’t make it to Independence Hall on this trip.

A two hour bus ride from Philadelphia to NYC and looking at old pictures from Italy to Vienna to Cambodia I remember well Brian’s words a lifetime ago driving down a sunny street in Southern California, “Life is not a right, it’s a gift.”  I have been given so much and I do feel a duty to give back, this is a big reason why I find myself here now on a bus with 43 other USA Americans going to Volunteer with the Peace Corps for the next 27 months.  I look back at the smile of my first Tuk Tuk driver in Pnohm Penh and imagine what his life has been like.  Many things we might shudder at dealing with daily or going without, yet he smiles so fully.  Imagine what it might be like if we all could have smiles like that, giving up so much cherished luxury so others might be able to smile like that with just a few more basic things.  I don’t know if it’s possible and if it’s forced it definitely won’t work, but it’s worth working for even if all you achieve is to let folks know out there that there is love on the other side of the world and that they too are remembered.  Also worth the forthcoming effort I feel is to help show friends back home what it’s like to be over there reminding always how strong our most common bonds are.  For who, that has food to eat, a place to live in and healthy children in school does not have cause to smile and give thanks for life? 

This is part what the Peace Corps does. Created by and Executive Order (that’s right an executive order ;-) in 1961 by President JFK established with the mission statement to promote world peace and friendship through the service of American Volunteers abroad. 

The bus through Manhattan began a fitting farewell as we trudge down 42^nd street through the neon throbbing pulse of Times square.  My friend Dave in the seat across the aisle, himself from Long Island explains to another in our group the insanity that is New Years Eve at Times Square and that New Yorkers generally try to avoid the fiasco all together.  All the while I’m looking at a giant Leonard Cohen billboard advertising his presence here next April. Sisters of Mercy plays in my head and I think you should all try to see him,  "and I hope you run into them you who’ve been traveling so long."  Neon lights at McDonalds are silly and excessive and Vegas has never been one of my favorite destinations,  and deep down I realize that the neon lights on our city streets are really not so different from those of the others cities I’ve walked, bussed or scootered thru at night but…. perhaps New York is simply what I hold as the greatest city in the land I call home.  At JFK it was becoming clear to all of us, I think, how soon we would be calling a very different place home far, far away.  Good conversation with Joseph, who later became my roommate, insulates me from the hour-long security wait where we are all crowded under some steel disc modern art piece. A few hundred of us dressed for November in New York are assaulted by the chic advertisements for designer clothes and perfume on a screen the size of a world series score board: BUY EXPENSIVE STUFF AND YOU WILL LOOK COOL AND HAVE A SUCCESSFUL LIFE WITH LOTS OF MONEY FANCY CLOTHES SURROUNDED BY SEXY WOMEN LIKE NATALIE PORTMAN AND CHARLIZE THERON AND THAT ONE GIRL AND ALL THE MODELS THAT LOOK SO SERIOUS  AND BORED FOR SOME REASON.  Yuck.

They wouldn’t let me strap my yoga mat to my checked bag so I brought it on the plane and as took my window seat facing the west I looked out at my last American sunset for quite sometime.  A solid pink cloud blanket covers the New York Sky line flanked by dark outlined smaller clouds, the George Washington Bridge, the Empire State building and to the left the sharpest diagonal line across the sky holds the dark of night on the other side.  Quite a contrast, fitting huh =) my camera didn’t quite capture it, but I have my memory.  We flew into the night.

Why did I decide to join the Peace Corps?

I knew it would be an extreme challenge and that’s always been appealing to me.

A strong sense of calling to serve the most vulnerable in our world that comes from my faith and teachings in scripture.  And as Steve was to put it later You Only Live Once.  Also wrapped up in the decision to answer this call is my identity as a USA American: to serve as a volunteer for my home country.  As a citizen of the United States of America I recognized how much I have been given in abundance compared to millions of the world’s inhabitants and that to whom much is given much is expected.  For the last 8 years or so from time to time I’ve watched Ted Kennedy’s Eulogy of his older brother Bobby at St. Patrick’s in Boston.  When I was angry, disillusioned, depressed and cynical about the world and our government and the seeming futility, corruption and mendacity of it all these words gave me hope, inspired me even and made believe that it was still worth it to work for justice.  I’d always thought joining the Peace Corps would be a good way to put this belief, this inspiration into action.  While I don’t harbor any illusions of grandeur I know fully well that I would regret it if I didn’t do.  Most warm and fuzzy remarks come across as trite because they are grounded in a disarming truth we tend to want more from, but I know full well that to the world any one of us may only be one person, but to one person any one of us may be the whole world.  “Until a person becomes a part of a cause greater than themselves, he or she is never truly whole.” –Richard Nixon

The sun rose in Belgium .
Hours later from the middle of the plan I looked out at my first african sunset.
A dark pink orange divide with darkness under the horizontal line below.
I couldn't tell whether the sunset was into a blanket of clouds, the sea,
or the vast Sahara desert somewhere over Sudan.
Getting off the plane we walked into Ugandan night air which smelled like the wooden
or charcoal cooking fires of Cambodia and rural Taiwan.

We got in Wednesday night after a 3 hours bus ride from the Entebbe Airport.  I remember after my first two weeks at the Mt Clef dorm at CLU that college dorm life was like a combination of High School and Summer camp.  I’d follow that in description of the dynamics here being something like college meets summer camp, but make no mistake this is no vacation, this is training and all this was soon apparent, but the long session days with more information than I can retain were conducted with windows open facing the garden, the birds that sang and occasionally dropped in for class.  The intensity and pace of the information coming at us to prepare for the two year task ahead was matched by a near angelic grace and dignity of our hosts.   

Thursday November 21, 2013

In one week we’ve had a one site visit and took a trip to church and already I’ve had a half dozen experiences that tell me clearly I am in the right place.

Thanksgiving Nov 28 2013

Today was thanksgiving. Wow. Went to Peace Corps Headquarters in Kampala and feasted with close to 80 folks.  Sunday we leave to complete teacher bootcamp.

Saturday Nov 30

17 days, 3 hot showers, a dozen sunrises and sunsets to add to the subconscious memory beauty queue.

Wrote a poem about honeysuckle scent that I can't find now.  Those mornings we went jogging on the trail thtough the farms seeing the homes of our neighbors and the greetings of their excited children.  The roosters had bright feathers like the ones from the road to Hana and the cows and pigs were all similar as were many of the flowers and all the corn.  What was different at first sight was the houses.  Mud brick, with seldom a window and the cooking was done in a separate structure out to the side with a fire. Water was carried from a nearby boar-hole.

Tuesday Dec 3 

Today I asked a classroom of Ugandan children the same question our 6^th grade science teacher put to us nearly 20 years ago, “What does the word science mean?”  Thank You Mrs. Kizer.  Passing on to others what you passed on to us.  Happy Advent Everyone.

PS Joseph says to say that he’s awesome (which I vouch for completely) and that I’ve been a positive influence. We’ve done a lot of praying together, text study and passage readings from the Bible to Tich Naht Hanh to The Tao te Jing.

Wed Dec 4

Just Before Sunset

I washed my hands in the rain today

In conversation with a roommate he said “I’d rather be uncomfortable in Africa than uncomfortable in the States… or comfortable for that matter.”

There is in our group often an absence of the need to explain statements like this. We are on the same page.

I took a shower in the rain today washed some clothes in a bucket and hung them on the line after the rain storm ended.

Walked to the end of the road just before sunset hens, and brightly colored roosters walked all around me.  A couple children kicked a red ball and their apartment reminded me of many of the buildings in Taiwan. Across the street the brilliant sun reflected on the tin siding of a building that once was.  Through the treeline of trees I’d only seen in movies and pictures the she became pink and orange.  Walked back up the road and talked with Dennis trying to pick up some Lugandan and Runyankore as students walked all around us to their dorms and to the chowlines.

I pointed to the sun, just before sunset.  The sky made me still. The sky made me smile.

Dusk had arrived.

Sunday Dec 8

I worshipped with my Anglican brothers and sisters today.  The day before while we were all taking a day off at Entebbe visiting the zoo and having pizza on the shore of Lake Victoria the Primary Teacher College students were preparing for Sunday worship services. There was a Catholic, a Born Again and an Anglican service.

I walked in and a dozen or so had gathered and started to sing as more trickled in.  Soon to young men were instructed to grab the drum and play.  The music picked up and when they sang Hosanna I strained to sing along with them as memories, feelings and that which is pure in worship flooded forward.  “Hold it together Benz: you can’t crack up in front of all these folks- you’re their visitor,” the voice inside me (which for some reason sounded like Uncle Tom’s) seemed to say. Sure enough as the song ended and a new one began, the young seminary student was leading worship and wearing a black robe came up to me.  She introduced herself as Irene and asked me to preach the gospel.  It was hard to hear with the music and part of me was hoping she just meant read the gospel but I had a feeling I’d been asked to do more than that.  I’ve been taught in recent years not to refuse requests such as these no matter how under prepared you feel. So I agreed and she motioned me to sit up front with her.  They were dancing with their praise songs!

After 2 other students read the scripture and the Gospel my suspicion was confirmed.  The gospel was from a part of Matthew where Jesus was angry with Pharisees touting all their fancy garments and wealth while widows went hungry. He was denouncing hypocrites.  So when I was told I walked up and stood at the podium in this cement classroom with barred windows converted into a chapel for the day. I talked about gratitude and said thank you, reminding them that I too was a student and that one among them was my teacher and I pointed to Agry whom I’d met my first day at the complex and who on follow up days had joked with others gathered around while I was doing laundry about teaching me for money. Just as that day I talked about the wealth of friendship, on Sunday I thanked him for being my teacher as I was going to a region he was from and his instruction in the local dialect would be quite helpful.   I called to attention the fact that Jesus was angry, angry at hypocrites and shared with them that hypocrisy in the church is why many people in the USA left church or avoid it completely.  I said it was not blame them as hypocrisy is an understandable reason to avoid something: it is not my place to judge only for me to remember what it says in Joshua that’s hung over our kitchen as long as I can remember, “As for me and my house, we shall follow the Lord.”  I spoke then about leader ship and leaders and that Nelson Mandela had reminded us that the strongest form of leadership was is by example and that none us was born hating another person.  We may be born sinners but we had to be taught the kind of hatred he spoke against and if we could learn that we could in turn learn to love.”  I told them of how my father and mother taught me to follow great leaders and that not long after I was born my father had been arrested for protesting apartheid.  I asked them to remember the love of Christ and to be the kind of leaders he would have us be.

Afterwards we sang “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” and I thought of my Grandpa Benz and of Dad, my uncles and childhood.  What a sacred place music holds in our world, what power to bring forth memories, to comfort, to transport and to bring hope.   The way they do music here is not something I’ve seen anywhere else.  It does not seem to be learned. It is not an extension of the individuals or people, it is a part of them.  It is not burdened with the pretense and polish of performance, yet from what I have seen and heard exceeds what I’d seen most of my life.  They make sounds seemingly effortlessly that bring to mind the word exaltation and if it were ever possible this is the kind of music that can carry us to triumph with the melodies and harmonies of their a cappella voices.   The only thing I could compare that first encounter in Africa with her peoples music at the Catholic church only days after we landed would be to summon or direct anyone to the score of The Thin Red Line where I think Hans Zimmer had found some a cappella choral arrangement and just knocked it out of the park.

After the service the campus retired and all the students prepared a performance for us their visitors.  Who knew what a treat was in store.  It was a celebration of culture with music, a special gift from them to us their teachers.  I wish I had it on tape for you.  They used only the drums, their voices and their hands for the accompaniment. There were a number of local dances and few songs in English. “Give Me That Old Time Religion.” How could someone forget a gift like that. 

Dec 13, 2013
Throughout Teacher Bootcamp I have watched the ideas and output with some admitted envy. Then I ask for this to be removed and replaced with admiration as this is more fitting with who I'd like to be. Then I consider the fact that I had diarrhea nearly the whole time and pat myself on the back as I've never been so productive with a rough case of the tummy squirts. After all, my feelings are not facts and the results were that the kids loved it. They loved the guitar and were sad as we left. During picture/farewell time one of the youngsters in a red shirt demanded I come down to hear him whisper something in my ear, "REMEMBER US." Question of the week friends and neighbors: "How do we remember our loved ones and those who touch our lives?"

Some of these children don't have shoes and wear torn clothes to school.  Many of them walk a distance that takes us 15 minutes to cover on a bus.  They choose to come, they are happy when they are there and they work hard.  Two of them even came to visit us the following day an they got a song on the guitar and Madison, Vanessa and I walked them back to the road where they walked on to dinner and home.

Teacher Paul is back =)  Hope the New Year is Good to You and Yours and until the next update: "Webere Mononga!"