Inspiration in the sticks

Becky here. I'm finally getting into the swing of things here in Masindi, i.e. the power cuts, red feet from the dust, navigating the half built roads and pavements, being called muzungu, everything you eat tasting slightly like midget gems (aka washing up liquid) and walking through grass without being petrified of snakes. I'm also getting used to every trip into town taking hours because of all the people who stop to talk to mum and dad. Mum seems to be getting to grips with Runyoro and Swahili, but dad's useless, no one even tries to talk to him in anything but English.

One of the most memorable experiences so far has been a trip to the Boomu Women's Group about 40min outside Masindi in the middle of nowhere. Mum and I decided to stay the night but weren't sure what to expect so we took huge bags packed with something for every eventuality, e.g. string, mosquito nets, candles, a penknife and lots and lots of biscuits and snacks. But we needn't have worried because our little banda was lovely, freshly painted with clean linen, towels, nets and not a snake in sight. We even had a jerry can of hot water to get showered under the stars (and the twittering yellow weaver birds making their nests in the tree above).

Talking to Edna, the lady who set up the group, was fascinating. Her story was really inspiring. She had left her husband with 2 small children in 1990 because, she said, it was impossible to 'develop' with a man around. She's been trying to put her children through school (her daughter is now at university which seems an amazing achievement) and support other women in the village ever since. The sad thing was that Edna couldn't see any future for her daughter, despite her university education, other than marrying a drunken man and returning to village life.

Edna took us on a 'community walk' through the fields to the local village. The proceeds of the walk are donated to a nursery school that the women have set up. Villages here are really spread out and are made up of lots of small clusters of huts which usually belong to one family, so just walking around one village took us 1 1/2 hours. Edna explained what all the different crops were along the way, and talked us through how they use the various leaves and stalks for food, medicine, and dye. She also talked about the many barriers obstructing development for the villagers, especially the women. One such barrier is the ever changing weather and seasons in Uganda at the moment. This means that women now have to plant crops throughout the year in order to safeguard against spoilt harvests because they can't predict when the rains are going to fall. As a result they are spending more and more time in the fields, leaving less time for other income generating activities such as basket weaving.

Back at the camp Edna attempted to teach us how to weave a basket and believe me it is much, much harder than it looks, shockingly so when you think that baskets are selling here for £2-3. Again, it was fascinating to hear how different parts of various plants are used in different ways with virtually nothing going to waste.

To top it all we were served a typical Ugandan feast of beans, veg stew, matoke, casava, sweet potato and rice all cooked on a charcoal stove with the root veg wrapped in a banana leaf.

With all the frustrations and scams that mum and dad have faced in their jobs in Masindi it is easy to think that people here are quite happy to sit and wait for someone else to come along and bail them out, but we both left Boomu feeling that Edna was an inspiring example of someone who was not only trying to lift herself and her children out of poverty, but support and motivate those around her too. We've been talking since about possible ways to support this project and hopefully we'll be able to go back there soon.

In the meantime we're all packed and ready to go for our much more upmarket tour of the mountains and lakes. Hopefully it won't rain too much because the roads are already getting slippy and muddy, but dad assures me that Sulaiman our driver is an old hand, and we're going in a big 4 x 4. Saying goodbye to all the staff at the hotel and here at the house seems to have taken forever and no doubt when we get back they'll all be rushing up to mum saying 'maggie, you are lost' as they did when she got back from Kampala last week. I dread to think what they'll be like when they leave for good!