Slumber Parties and B-Boyz

This was from an email sent on 8/4/2011.

Hello!

I only have a moment to write, but I wanted to get this out real quick!  SO... right now I am at Nazareth Orphanage in Nyendo after a long and exciting day.  To back up, there have been some really awesome moments this past week.  After a few low spots, my attitude has shifted and my outlook is much brighter!  I think being away from friends and family and tossed into a new situation can be tough on anyone, let alone being in Africa and dealing with the stuff I have to deal with on a regular basis.  So, I am feeling much more adjusted and things really were not THAT bad before, just kind of negative and difficult for a few days.  I was able to email a few people in more detail, so I am sorry if this is scattered or you've already heard some of it.  I wish I could just show you a glimpse of what I am experiencing here because email does not seem to cover it all. 

Sunday, 2 female volunteers and I went to a graduation party for one of the teacher's at Hope.  It was about an hour away and we rode in a special taxi with the teachers and staff of URF.  All of the students rode in the back of a truck!  The party was really cool, and the funny thing was the moment I got out of the taxi a bunch of kids yelled, "Kate!"  I am not sure how people know my name, but I will take that as a good thing.  It feels really good to walk through the village now, and instead of yelling "Muzungu!" or "Munene!" they yell, "KATE!!!!"  It is pretty awesome, I must admit.  Anyways, we got to the party and of course immediately my stomach started killing me.  I will not go into detail about what followed, but it was a traumatizing experience and one I will not forget!  haha. 

After that, we were sent to a room where they put HUGE bowls of food in front of us and we ate with our hands.  This would have been fine, had my stomach NOT been killing me, so needless to say, I ate what I could but was sweating and keeping my eye on the door the whole time.  It was pretty ridiculous!  The party was for a Muslim guy, and Ramadan started recently so there were a lot of religious speeches that I did not understand that went on for about 2-3 hours.  Then, they had different groups of people do dances and one was the Bazungu dance.  I seized the opportunity to show em my stuff, and it was pretty cool!  Everyone was screaming and cheering for me and it was so much fun!  After a few more hours of dance, and witnessing incredible snippets of culture, it was time to go home.  We had to follow the students who were in the back of the truck because the roads were really bad and we had to make sure none fell out.  (Seriously.)  There were about 50 kids in the back of the truck.  I had to cover my eyes half the time it was so scary!

When we got back to the school, it was too late for some students to walk home so they had to sleep in the classrooms which are just concrete.  The kids were complaining and said they were in "prison".  I said, "It is just one night!  No big deal!"  And they said, "Fine, you sleep here!"  So.... I did.  Haha.  They were completely shocked, but it was worth it.  I came down with my flash light, a pillow, and my ipod and camped out with the students.  I felt like a mother hen, tucking her little chicks into bed.  The funny thing was, I tucked them in by playing Nicki Minaj's "SuperBass" video for them on my ipod, which was hilarious!  I think that moment will be one I'll keep in my heart for a long, long time.  It was just so funny, and so awesome all at the same time, and all the children finally fell asleep.  They loved it!  After getting eaten by bugs for a few hours, I finally snuck out and went back to my bed, and the next morning the students who I slept on the floor with all smiled and winked at me.  It was a bonding experience for sure. 

http://www.youtube.com/embed/4JipHEz53sU - Nicki Minaj ~ Super Bass video

Moving on... the past few days I spent pruning banana trees, visiting students, exploring local villages, and taking a ton of pictures!  I am LOVING my camera and can't wait to show everyone what I have so far.  Getting to the good stuff... today, I met an Irish nun.  We talked about doing some volunteer work together at the local prison, and I was very intrigued by her.  I had a feeling something was about to happen and as I arrived to the church, I saw a group of boys break dancing.  I had a intuitive feeling I should investigate so I walked up and asked them what they were doing.  The guy said they are a dance crew from Masaka and are competing in a National B-boy competition starting next week in Kampala!!  I felt a rush and started telling the guy how much I love dance, and how it was my dream to come to Uganda to film a movie featuring dancers.  He got so excited and we talked for a LONG time and have a bunch of plans to get together for filming their competitions, some interviews, and even doing photo shoots for each crew member!!!!  This may not sound like much to anyone else, but it felt like fate to me.  I was at a random Catholic church meeting a nun, and then stumbled across the BEST dance crew in Masaka?!  How crazy is that?? I can't wait to see what comes of this, but I am totally excited and even more inspired.  I had that electric God shot feeling that has become all too familiar to me when big things happen.  I was looking for my story, and I hope and think I found it.  These guys are INCREDIBLE dancers and were just as excited to meet me as I was to meet them!  I will keep you all posted for sure.  For now, I gotta go play with the little kiddies. 

Love you all,
KTT

My Brother - Kabagambe Shafic

I wanted to share this story with you because I thought you might want to hear it, and because it is important to me.  Lots of people have asked me about my trip to Uganda, but this is not a story I often tell.  I originally wrote this on June 5, 2011.  So here goes...

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I have a brother in Uganda and his name is Kabagambe Shafic.  He is 20 years old and an amazing footballer, artist, farmer, cow hand, digger, dancer, clothes washer, french toast maker, party planner, leader, singer, and friend.  I love him more than words can say and he will forever be my family, my brother for life.  Shafic grew up in Rwanda and at the age of 3 he was taken from his parents during the genocide to live with aunts and uncles in Uganda.  His parents hoped to relocate there themselves, but went back for the rest of his siblings and the ENTIRE family was never seen or heard from again.... murdered in the fury and chaos of one of the swiftest and most destructive genocides in human history. 

I had the honor of taking Shafic back to Rwanda for the first time since he left, and experiencing that journey with him has changed me forever.  I don't think any one event in my life has impacted me more than this did.  Believe me when I say, I am not here to tell you a sob story or add any drama.  Simply put, this is a TRUE story - not a movie character, not some faceless statistic.  He is my brother and I love him with all of my heart.  His story is deeply personal to me. 

I walked through the Kigali Genocide Memorial with him, holding his hand, seeing the pictures, and hearing the truth about what happened during those dark and bloody days.  I fought back tears like I never have before and we walked in silence.  All I could do was pray because I felt completely unqualified for such an experience, but I did my very best and supported him the best I could.  We entered a room called "Orphans" and he started shaking his head, "No." Perhaps in sadness, in disbelief, or disgust.  Or perhaps because there were really no words he could say.  I am not sure.  Against the rules, he grabbed my camera and began taking pictures of the children and the plaques on the wall.  (Some of them are attached here.)  After a long silence, he spoke.  He said, "This is me.  These are my brothers and sisters."  Those words echoed through my body and it felt like someone punched me in the heart.  My mind swirled and part of me went into shock.  We kept walking.  As we moved on, I felt a speck of relief, thinking we had walked through the toughest parts of the exhibit but we turned a corner and came into a new room.  I kept praying and tried to remind myself to breathe.  Shafic went ahead.  I followed him into the next room where there were people crying and speaking French.  I scanned the room to see what the situation was.  There were thousands of photos, from floor to ceiling, and I realized they were the faces of people killed.  For one second, I thought, "Oh wow," but then I turned and saw Shafic in the corner and I stopped breathing.  The look on his face will be seared into my heart forever.  He was not skimming over the photos like an exhibit, he was inspecting them, looking at every face- he was searching for his parents.  

I am in tears now as I type.



I felt a part of myself die in that moment.  I felt the universe crack open and I could almost hear it happening.  It took every ounce of courage, prayer, and strength to not cry in that moment.  I wanted to scream out at the French tourists, "THIS IS NOT JUST SOME EXHIBIT!!!!!  THIS IS HIS LIFE!!!!!!!!!!"  But I stayed silent.  The room was spinning.  I walked over to Shafic and began searching through every picture, too.  I didn't even know what his parents looked like, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.  We went on and finished the entire memorial in silence.  Whatever pace he wanted, I was there with him.  Outside was our final stop - the mass graves.  We walked and I kept praying.  We walked down every path there was to walk on and we sat by the graves, reading the plaques.  I wanted to speak, but instinctively I knew this was perhaps the most delicate moment for him so I did not speak at all.  I just prayed silently and was present. 



Shafic taking a moment near the mass graves.
Kigali, Rwanda



Finally, we sat in a tranquil garden together and eventually the time was right to speak.  The words felt heavy at first, but then they began to flow.  He told me all of the details of what he knew and what happened to him and his family.  I listened, supported him, tried to lift him up, and opened my heart the best I could.  We prayed together for the people whose lives were lost and we prayed for his parents, his brothers, and his sisters. I imagined they were so proud of him and I hoped that at least some healing begun that day for him and for his parents.  I hoped they could finally rest in peace.  I already loved him, but in that moment, sitting in the garden, I knew that I would ALWAYS love him and that I would do everything in my power to be there for him, to help him, and to make sure that he is never alone again.

I am going to return to Uganda this summer and my goal is to get his paper work together so he can get a passport, and to get him enrolled into school.  He is finishing O Level now, but has nowhere to live once he's finished.  It costs about $500 US for one term with books and uniforms and lodging, so I am starting there, but ultimately my goal is to help him get a scholarship to a university in the USA.  That is his biggest dream in the world, and one I plan on helping to make a reality. 

I feel like Shafic was put into my life for a reason and now if you are reading this, he is a part of your life, too.  I am by far not a rich woman when it comes to money, but my heart has never been so full.  I feel it is my duty to honor Shafic and his family and to tell part of their story.  He is the best friend I could ever ask for and I am overpaid.  Sometimes it gets overwhelming because there are so many people who need help, who need money, who want something - I just decided, I'm going to try and do what I can.  Even if it is something small, or even if it means helping one boy feel loved... I'm just going to try.  If you want to help out, too, email me and we can talk.  This is just the beginning.  If you would like to donate money, that would be wonderful!  Lord knows, I can't do it alone, but I hope you know this email is about way more than just that.  Your support and a prayers mean the world.  I hope you find what I have found, and I wish you all the joy and love that one can wish.  Thank you so much.

All the best,

Katie Michelle Thompson

Photos taken by Shafic at the memorial