If I don’t learn patience in Uganda, I never will! One more morning spent dealing with a laptop and the power supply. But first I saw Julie and Anna off to Kampala. They are taking a break and then Julie will write her report in the peace of a guesthouse with a good power supply! It will be nice to be alone in the guesthouse with Sabia for a few days and to go hiking with her on Sunday.
Our patience was first tried when Julie announced that there was no more propane to cook on. We had managed to make some lukewarm tea. Evelyn arrived and got a flame for a little longer. Then teacher Robert, Barbara’s left hand, the building teacher and deputy head arrived and explained that we could have gas for a little longer. So Sabia and I cancelled our plan to immediately lug the two heavy empty bottles into Mbale to get them filled up at the service station.
I wrote my diary up at the guesthouse while Evelyn and her daughter Doreen cleaned. If I understood correctly Doreen has been booted out of school because the fees haven’t been paid. However, the school year is nearly over. I will have to check with Barbara whether there is some way for the program to pay the fees next year. Otherwise Doreen will have to go to a government school. Even there, there will be expenses. Students are expected to arrive wearing shoes and the school uniform and to bring pencils and exercise books with them. Teaching materials are practically non-existent and learning is mostly by rote and sometimes poorly understood and just repeated parrot-fashion. In the past I have paid fees for up to four of Simon’s children but I informed him a few years ago that I could no longer do this. I went down to the school, sure that I would be able to find the guesthouse key in the hiding place I had been shown if I needed to go back up there. Almost immediately I needed something out of the guesthouse but the key was not in its place and none of the school staff had the key. So I was locked out. Never mind, I thought, I have the laptop and can work in the office. After an hour of trying various cords we still had not found one that would work. Computer teacher Anatoli (sounds Russian, doesn’t it?) eventually saved the day for me by producing the right cord and I have finally caught up with my diary.