This summer's book project is woodcuts for Big Belching Bog, by Phyllis Root. This week my favorite beachside bog offered tiny pink cranberry flowers.

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I am back at Shiphol, one month later, on the return from Kampala. Here is what I wrote here on the outgoing layover:

January 5, 2009, Schipol airport, Amsterdam. I am not even there yet, and this is what I have encountered so far in my journey: Dreams, Vision, Passion, Persistence, Kindness. The movie on the little screen in the seat ahead of me in the plane played Man on the Wire, about Phillipe Petit’s wire walking, including the span between the Twin Towers, in 1974. I held my breath. His passion, his speaking about making each day a work of art, his dream—he retained his excitement about living his life at the edge always.

Through the month, Dreams, Vision, Passion, Persistence, Kindness remained prominent. The best embodiment being Ruth. She among others sent me a plea for school fees—she is bright and has one more year of high school. Her dream is to be a journalist, to better the life of her family. I thought, “What should I do?” She had mentioned as we got to know each other in printmaking class that she had learned to make paper beads, and used to have a place to sell them and raise money, but not anymore. So I thought, well, I have a shop, I can buy handmade stuff to sell.

She called right back, and Phil, Odin and I picked her up, to drive around to her home where she could show us the beads. We parked along the busy road, and walked down an ever narrowing path punctuated by the squeals of kids catching sight of the muzungu baby. (I am under-describing this; from our mid-American perspective this neighborhood is another planet. From the in-person comfortable hospitality and conversation, it is totally the same planet, only nicer and more trusting.) Her mother opened the gate, and we entered the house; Ruth’s brother Paul was also there. They offered us the chair and stool, they sat on the floor. The house is about 12 by 12 feet.

Ruth brought out piles of necklaces and bracelets. All three of them roll the beads out of recycled paper that they acquire and cut into long tapered strips. The rolled beads are varnished and strung into the final piece. Rose, the mom, learned this craft from a group called Bead for Life, who began the program to do just we were doing at that moment—“eradicating poverty, one bead at a time” is their motto. Rose works and volunteers for Reach Out, and goes around the community explaining that people need to get their health tests and take their medicine. She has been taking ARV’s for Aids since 2003, and says she is doing pretty well. She is engagingly warm and charming, and proud to say that she owns her home, pretty amazing. She apologized for not having made us a meal.

Ruth gave us a big bag full of work, with a price list, and we agreed to meet the next day when I had made my choices and would give her the money. She came to our house with another bag full of bracelets. So now, I travel back home with this sincere colorful jewelry to sell, and await updates on Ruth’s experiences. She was preparing to start yesterday at Progressive Secondary School --Kintintale (a Kampala neighborhood). The motto is “Strive for Perfection.”

Dreams, Vision, Passion, Persistence, Kindness. We continue. Full Post

My artistic ambition during this time in Uganda was to learn and be inspired by Fred Mutebi, a prolific and colorful woodblock printer here. Much of his work is social/ political statements, visually symbolic. His technique is reduction printing, using only one block of wood per print, and making editions of ten to fifteen prints rubbing by hand—no press. He says there is not one press in Uganda now.

Here’s what I have done while here:

Print one: Snail. I saw a big, four inches long, snail walking along a plant, and made a three stage reduction print using my usual inks, with transparent colors overlapping each other. I printed each stage separately so that I would have an example of my work to show the students. I got one fairly ok print, but it was kind of a fumble. Go to full post for more.


Print two: As we were planning the class, Fred showed his new series of prints about the US election. They have stars and stripes mingled with zebra stripes, and complicated metaphors.

So I started a larger print which represents the continents each by a different bird. The big message is Peace, in letters, and also an Origami peace crane carrying an olive branch. So far I have printed two of the three stages, so not all the birds are visible yet. I did the printing after the class took place, and by then realized that the scheme of things here is about lots of goopy ink, in whatever colors. And not that literal. An elephant can be red. So I dove right into it. But printing by hand, with the paper that I got from Fred which I don’t think is quite top shelf, is tough to get anything like I am used to. Splotchy, fingerprints, hand registration is wishy washy, I’m in first grade again.

Print three: During the class, I decided to pick up the same equipment and supplies that the students were using and use a different approach to the way most of them were working. I drew from observation (as opposed to images from imagination), and didn’t outline the forms with a line like most of the first two days student prints. I wanted to experiment myself, and also show a fresh idea. I think this affected a number of the student prints. At least they started asking me to help them figure out their questions a lot. I like this print. The colors went on bright and crisp, and I had fun. The new thing here was mixing white with the ink, rather than transparent medium. So the colors are opaque, and go on like oil paint as contrasted with watercolor.

Print four: A young artist named Hassan came to class on the last day and showed me his prints on his laptop. He asked, “In the U.S. You are printing light to dark, yes? Well most of us here print dark to light. We print the light colors over black.”
Light bulb graphic here.
OK, tell me more. So he did a quick demo with what we had out on the table—he paints a black square the size of his board. He gets the plywood boards from a salvage section of the market that used to be packing crates. Then carves his lines, prints it, and the lines are black. Phil has two woodcuts here that he bought from a gallery at the equator, and pointed out that they seem to be printed with the light colors over black. So we went to Hassan’s studio, way back in a neighborhood with chickens and a goat, and are bringing back a number of his cool prints for the shop.
So I can hardly wait to try this. I don’t have any acrylic paint, so I mixed Elmer’s glue, which I keep in my fixit bag for woodcut repairs, with black gouache, and painted my squares black. Then today I made a big goopy palette of ink, got a roller in each hand and dove into it. Again here, the white ink mixed in is a whole different deal.
Shazam.
Crispy black lines with cool color. I love it!
This is the way I have figured out to do paintings in recent years: opaque paint on a black ground. So go figure. This is the unexpected gift in seeking fresh ideas from the world.
The idea is from one of the stories I was told in Sembabule: Mr. Tortoise got selfish and ate all the party food himself. Mrs. Tortoise was so enraged she prepared his bed with pangas and knives. That is why to this day the tortoise’s shell is rough with cut lines.


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Monday we left our cozy hostel before dawn to drive an hour to Kyambura Gorge to participate in Chimpanzee tracking. We drive across golden grass savannah with African looking trees. The gorge drops down from the flat savannah to a river. The light descends through the canopy of foliage topping the very big trees. We are in luck, and watch a family group of four chimps for a good while. I am captivated, and think about Jane Goodall spending her life watching the chimps rather than returning to the tame social life in England. The mother with her two year old, was like Paige with Odin, except for being up the tree tops. Full Post

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Yesterday was the final day of class. Fred gave a lecture about making a statement with your art, and showed his work. He explained how to sign prints, and everyone did so, and hung them up. We took a class photo. Paige, Phil and Odin, as well as Peter, were the guests at the art show. I encouraged them all to be proud. It’s a great collection. I had wanted to show the students the pictures that Phil took, but the rest of the afternoon was overtaken with a TV crew.

Here’s what Ruth eloquently wrote about what she gained from the workshop.
Personal Gains Accrued in this Workshop.
My name is Nakalembe Ruth. I am 17 years old. I have been aspired in different fields depending on the activities done in this workshop. [Previous workshops were in a variety of media.]
To begin with, it is wise wisdom to say Art has got no specific definition depending on the workshop I have attended. I have learnt that you can give Art a formula depending on your expression. Art has no shape but whatever thought of by an artist has shape. You just don’t draw because its fun, but you draw because there is something you would like to expose out to the world.
Depending on this workshop, I can change the world through Art. Art has the best concept of communication. I have learnt how to talk through Art, and this is the best way to create changes since every category can read Art, that is to say, the illiterate as well as the literate. It takes not many paragraphs to communicate. . . . You can change a dream into a reality through Art, and any one can be an artist. Full Post

Last day of working on art. Kyeyune (CHEW-nay) and Ochen (oh-CHEN) learned how to superimpose a grid on a photo and enlarge a drawing from it. They chose the newspaper photo of Obama. There wasn’t much to do after that, and of course there was a shredded soccer ball nearby. And by now they have new friends; these kids are good football players! I just realized that I enjoy being with them, and will miss them. I’m feeling a little wistful as a heavy rain falls. We came home at a good time as it turns out; safe and dry under the roof. Tomorrow we sign prints, hang the art, show the photographs, and celebrate what we have all done.
Each student was assigned to write a profile: Name, Age, Where are you from, What would you like to change about the world or yourself, Anything else about your life. Go to full post for transcriptions.

Nabasirye Vanessa, 11, Mbuya Hill, Kampala. I would like to unite the world, stop segregation, and I believe that if we all love one another and live in unity, the world will live as one. And I also thank the be who organized this Art conference because they have brought children from different districts and regions, some from North, South, East, West. I like Art. Thank u.

Akogizibwe Ronald, 11, Fort Portal. I would like to change classes. Father, Mother Gorreti, sister Kahunde Shiller, 14, brother Solomoni, 6.

Kyeyune Abdul, 13, Mbuya Hill in Kampala. Promote free movement in all African countries. Leaders should stop corruption. People should avoid tribalism. To promote equal care among people in the country. I like playing football and my best club is Manchester United.

Ochen Ronald, 13, Mutungo. I want peace to be promoted in Uganda and all other African countries. I like playing football and watching it. I support Manchester United.

My name is Kyobe George William. I am 13 years old. I come from Lyantonde district. I am in Kampala at Fred Mutebi’s home and am happy of being there. I would like to change football in order to play well not playing badly.

I am Ugandan girl aged 14 years. My name is Wanyana Angel. I was born Kibone. I go to school at Kisaasi Primary School. I am in Primary Seven. In future I would like to be lawyer. I grew up with my father, we are four in the family, two brothers and sister. I would like to change on my studies. I have been perform [poorly, crossed out] well, but I want to add more performance. I help me to perform well as you can. This is my profile written by Wanyana Angel.

I am called Katerega Paul and I am 14 ½ years old. I come from Mutungo in Kampala, and I am in S-3 at Crane High School in Kintintale. I am living with my mother, and my mother is HIV positive, but I myself, I am negative. I would like to change the services that the AIDS patients get because some leaders are corrupt and they eat the AIDS patients money that is brought to them from outside countries.

Am called Kagezi Joan, of age 16 years, with five step brothers and sister alone in my father and mother’s womb. I come from Bulenga, seven miles from Kampala on Mityana road since 2005, after shifting from Nateete. I once had a brother who was the youngest in my father & mother’s womb, but then died in 2003 there being internal bleeding coming from a fight with our step sister. About my life I have a lot to say and tell you people. I’ve been an AIDS virus carrier since I was a child and I have suffered a lot where by I got very sick and had to be admitted for two months suffering from tuberculosis. I sometimes used to think of dying because I was getting fed up of this sickness. But when I trusted God I started trying to go to internet café’s to get new friends from different countries but failed thinking that no white person would like to be a friend to a dying person. So I lost hope and stopped writing to pals in different countries. But it’s not that I don’t want Uganda friends, but once I try getting them, my step sisters start telling them about my status whereby they abandon me. So what I wanted to change in my life is at least to get a family abroad who can at least give me comfort and be my friends. And I want to know and at least have hope that I will one day be far from my step sisters and brothers who hate me so much with all their hearts. Please help me find friends and families through the internet who don’t fear carriers of this disease. I myself like you people so much because you people are trying to help us improve our talents and give hope of one day being prosperous. So may God bless and reward you abundantly with all your families because you are good people. That’s all. Have a nice time my friends. Says Joan Kagezi. Love yu.

I am called Okello Collins Monday, am 16 years old. I come from Gulu. I am an orphan and I was abducted in the year 2004 and stayed in the bush for some days. Then I escaped. For me as an artist I would like use art as a medium of communicating to the entire people about the dangers and how to control AIDS, because these days AIDS is at a very high rate and killing many, day and night. And for me as an artist, I hope through art, the high spread of HIV virus will become limited. Secondly, for me as a war victim, and I come from the war affected region, I would like to use art to demonstrate to the outside world about the dangers of war, because I have ever experienced, and I don’t need it to happen to other people, even though the war in Northern has not yet ended. I hope through faith and God’s mercy the Northern insurgency will come to an end, and through art work, numbers of AIDS patients will reduce, so long as there is unity and hard work.

I am Mugira Steven, aged 16 the previous year, and am heading to 17 this year. I come from Hoima district, but stay in Kampala with my mom. Am a fan of football and volleyball, with the preference in studying most to acquire my dreams. I like recognition from neighboring states about the wealth and participation of African citizen in welfares of the Nation. Maybe also acquiring knowledge from neighboring states.

My name is Nakalembe Ruth, I am 17 years old. I am a Ugandan by nationality, living in Kampala. I am a student still at high school, in senior six. My father died in 2001, and he died by AIDS. I live with my mother, as well as my three sisters and one brother. I am the third born. I was once diagnosed HIV positive in the year 2003, which was later found out to be HIV negative in the year 2007, after carrying out several HIV tests. I was put on drugs, that is septrine and combivre for six month. This test in 2003 was done after a check up from my mother who was HIV positive. I carried out four tests with Joint Clinic Research Centre of Gulu in 2008, and they were all showing negative results. So this message goes to all the youths, those who are positive as well as those who are negative: Those who are positive, it’s not a crime nor a curse for you to have such a status. Don’t blame anyone, you still have a chance to live up to your expectations, that is not the end of the world. There is still a second chance for you to live, and that second chance is “NOW” since you’ve known your status early enough. Never criticize yourself anymore, because the world needs you. To those who are negative, you should put in consideration that, “Life is not a bed of Roses,” it has got no spare parts. Life is what you make it, so protect yourselves and have positive ideas. Don’t long for what you don’t have, for it will cost you, but always work hard to get what you need as well as accepting the little that you have. In doing so, everything will come your way !!!! Namukrose@yahoo.com

My name is Rubanga Kene Geoffrey, I am 18 years old, and I came from Gulu district, which is in northern part of Uganda. Something about my life: I live just a simple life, and spend most of my time planning for the betterment of my future, along side learning, and Art work is also my most favorable activity, [that] I like whenever I am free, and I would like it to be my destiny for the rest of my life. So that is something brief about my life. I would like to change my life from an ordinary person to an artist, and with your support I will be a good Artist, since it’s God’s gift to me. Apart from art, I would also like to be a lawyer after my further studies. So above mentioned, are all about my profile.

Sserugunda Ronald. I am of age 20 year, putting up in Mutundwe town, in Kampala district. I designed the drawing of the lady in the Gomesi, holding a shield trying to fight. I have three sisters and three brothers, with me being the fourth. We live together in the place I’ve mentioned above. I love art very much, that I always want to keep on improving my talent and become a famous artist in future. I have a white friend called Christine, but I also still want to get more who can give me new ideas about art and market them for me. What I want in life to change, is to get a chance to go abroad and visit the places far from Uganda. Thank for giving me a chance to show you what I have, and also improving my talent. [written down by Joan, for Ronald]


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That's PRESIDENT Obama. We are pretty well stalled in rush hour traffic on our way to the American Club to watch CNN. The matatu taxi vans have started to jump the lane to drive around the stall on the sidewalk. There are intermittent movements opening just enough space for a boda boda or a bicycle to squeeze through in a possibly ramdom direction before it all locks up again. We have BBC on the radio interviewing people on the mall, call ins from East Africa, text-ers from all over. We see a runner in a yellow Uganda jersey coming down the highway in the middle, in between the lanes of bumpered-up vehicles. He has a big grin. It is Peter. Here he is earlier in the day in his Obama shirt.

After more than an hour of Phil's amazing video-game obstacle course driving we arrive at the club. The extension cord to the dining room big screen is missing, so we watch the swearing in and the speech in the bar. Applause echoes the call to hope from this small group gathered in Uganda. I bought the local newspaper with even a map of the parade route in a special pull out Obama section. I think the world can heal. I really think it can. "Hope is like a road in the country: there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, it comes into being." Lao Tzu Full Post

Day Four. Rain. Which is awkward for works on paper. But what else is there to do. So these printmakers worked in a flurry.
When I arrived with Kyeyune, Ochen, and Vanesa who is Peter's daughter, none of the printing was in progress, Fred was absent, the students in residence were gathered around a table drawing portraits of each other. Later Fred said that this is one of the art therapy activities they are using. When a person has been a child soldier it is hard to look another person in the face, to trust and appreciate.
Then the rain started heavily, and the canopies filled with water, which soaked the tables and drawing paper when we dumped them out by poking upward with a broom. The students from hot country in the north were cold, and they can't go put on more clothes because they don't have any. But there's no stopping art.
Printing got going like intensely crazy. Full Post

I woke up to a cooling light rain, and yes that's still t-shirt weather, but it was refreshing. Kyeyune and Ochen showed up eagerly right on time, Sabiti didn't come for hard-to-find-out reasons. Everyone blasted ahead on their projects; I worked along with the students today and made a print with a different approach for an example. I have brought some print-illustrated books for visual resources, otherwise they didn't seem to have examples available. Two more working days and then one day to sort and sign prints, and have an art show. Phil will set up a slide show, and we can celebrate all of the accomplishments.
I wore my Obama hat to class today. We are looking around for a place to watch the inauguration, it will be at 8 pm here. Full Post

Day 2 of class went along at a clip. Seven new kids came, and two didn't come. Most finished their second image, some were on to the third. Our initial outline expected that they would complete two editions of three color prints, edition of 5, in six days. Soooo, what shall we do? We had a discussion, which is more like a lecture, but two of the girls spoke up and said, "Could we have a choice?" Go girls. So the topics to choose from are: Personal expression, Animals and birds, Local proverbs, and a local folktale called The Blacksmith's Dilemma that I found online last night and retold to them briefly. Photo notes: Matatu, taxi van, with Obama sticker, antelope prints by Okello Collins Monday from photo reference in Phil's book , and the busy ink table made from a Toyota windshield. Full Post

First day of class. Anticipating that there might only be six students available, we had twelve today. And we were busy! Right on time this morning our Three Boys arrived at our compound, reservedly excited, and in their school shoes. They were brave to go to something they did not have much idea about. I wondered how much they go away from their neighborhood. I’ll try to find out. We arrived at Fred's about ten a. m. and Fred greeted them in their language. Fred was in the swing with the other students working on images of HIV/AIDS issues. Most of the images were the same thing, a mannish form “from the bush” and a woman holding up a traditional Acholi shield as protection, with a word saying “abstinence” or “Go away” or “Loyalty”. Read More!

This was a little overwhelming, though apparently not out of the realm for my young friends, and Kyeyune ended up with a bird image and the other two tried to follow the theme. Once I got used to the process of it all, it went pretty well. One of the older boys asked me for help with a lion he was carving, and his first two colors were a mystery to him, but I think he was well pleased at the end of the day. Printmaking is a hard way to portray something you see in your mind. Most of these were first time printers. And folks, I am much more of a printmaker than a teacher, but I keenly want them to succeed, and (the American way) feel good about their accomplishments. All of these kids, aged maybe ten to seventeen, are hard workers, patient, no resistance. I don’t know whether this experience will encourage a good life for them, but here we all are, and who knows.

At two o’clock we took a lunch break, all the students had matooke, the traditional universal Ugandan food of steamed plantains, with beans. Fred, Phil and I were served rice and beans simmered with tomatoes, onion, peppers, salt; delicious. After lunch I talked a little about my work, and showed a book of African folk tales illustrated with woodcuts, by Ashley Bryan. Then I decided to read them one of the stories, not knowing how much English would be understood. I got a few laughs on the part about the monkey, and am hoping to draw out some stories from them. We’ll see.

We came home tired, and called the nice fellow on the motorbike with the Indian food and the cold Nile beer. I’m starting to feel like a pudgy colonial. This is all really cool. I am a lucky gal to be out in the world this way. Full Post

Friday, January 16, 2009
Today I met with Fred to prepare for our week with students. Two of the boys from the north, in Gulu, arrived today and were helping to build tents, like EZ-ups, but nothing about it looked easy the way they had to do it. They were building work tables from big cable spools and other scrounged wood. Four other students from other regions will come tomorrow as well as our two neighborhood boys who I invited. “Can I bring my friend, he is really good at art.” OK, sure, bring your friend. Make that three neighborhood boys. Can’t stop art. Read More!

Peter drove me to and from the meeting. On the way over he gave an account of the history and politics of the Kingdom of Buganda, yes there is a king here in Kampala, very traditional. Fifty-two clans in the Buganda tribe. “We are calm and don’t fight each other. Because look what it was like in Rwanda; they wipe each other out.” On the return trip, he described how to cook the traditional foods, mostly wrapped in banana leaves.

During the two hours I was gone, Kyeyune carved his woodblock here on the porch. I let him take the tools home to keep working as he requested. He tends to hog the tools so Sabiti didn’t get very far on his picture. Tomorrow I hope there will be enough tools for everyone. Full Post

Well: Odin has a tiny pink plastic soccer ball, which got me thinking about geodesic domes. I thought I could make one, like the soccer ball, with hexagons and pentagons, out of bamboo and rubber tie. So at the market, I found rubber tie, inner-tubes cut into ¾ inch wide strips about one meter long, for 200 U. shillings for each strip. Rubber tie is one of the puppeteers’ essential raw materials, which we regularly scrounge as dead inner tubes from bike shops. Here, someone already did that, and cut it up, and sold it to the “hardware store” who sold it to me. I saw thin rubber strips used to make brooms--bundles of grasses or fine plant material of some sort. They are used by the sweeper bending over in half, in a way Americans can’t comfortably bend, to clean outdoors and in. I got a start on the dome top before the sun set today. Full Post

Thursday, January 15, 2009
Today upbeat Peter came by to visit. He is the one who picked me up at the airport. Odin was happy to see him; he calls Odin mukulu, which means “big man” like a politician. He calls me “Mommie.” He talked about his mother who has leukemia. She had chemotherapy for a little while, but it only made her weaker, so now she uses the herbal medicine, and eight years into it she is good, walking long distances to the markets, etc. He said they use the herbal medicine when the children get malaria. It is 5000 Uganda shillings, about $2.75, for a tiny bottle, which is a lot for him, and they use three drops at a time. But it works. And pregnant women and children can use it. He is a boxer, and drives taxi for livelihood. Read More!

Kyeyune and Sabiti came this afternoon. Kyeyune brought two clay animals he had made, a lion and a cheetah, with clay he dug up. He used my paints to paint them. He has a great eye. I printed the last stage of the snail woodcut while they were here, then they each got to print the block, and paint in the print. They each took a piece of wood home, and a notebook and a pencil. We’ll see what they come back with tomorrow. They mowed the lawn with the new push mower.

I bought green rubber sandals at the market today, for 3500 Uganda shillings. I could buy 50 pairs for what I paid for my handmade sandals from San Antonio. Yep, that’s $2.00. I didn’t bargain her down. Full Post

Yesterday was rainy. And the internet was broken until Paige called someone this morning. She says sometimes it mysteriously gets turned off at the ISP. The boys came again yesterday, three this time, and they all drew pictures, and worked in the garden a bit. Gardener Patrick got a bright orange coverall suit, so he is easy to find in the yard. He is making it look beautiful. Guard Patrick was in a boda-boda accident Sunday and has a big gash in his leg. He says accidents are more common at night. Read More!

Andrea the electrical guy came today to check on the increasing demand for power in the compound. There is an inverter and bank of batteries that come into use to even out the variable city power.

Today I printed the second color on a small print of a big snail on a plant. The boys didn't come, but were very interested in the first color two days ago. Maybe tomorrow they will come for the last round. I will be able to use this print as a demo for working with the students, due to start this weekend.

Partway through the day I realized it is so peaceful in my section of home, that thought I would go check out the office. Paige is busy working on finances and M & E, monitoring and evaluation reports. She has lots of reports, that tell her how the programs are achieving their effectiveness and helping to prevent malaria and HIV/AIDS. Small steps in a very big mission. Check out Minnesota International Health Volunteers.

Odin was busy growing today, and learning how to reach for things. Phil was busy being the caregiver; Harriet has malaria this week. Full Post

Kyeyune and Sabiti, two regular neighborhood boys, came to hang out. Kyeyune brought his book of stories that he writes and illustrates. They are fantasies with plenty of superpowers. Phil, Paige, and Betsy are in some of them. I pulled out some pens and paints, and they drew wonderful pictures, referencing photos in books that we had here. Full Post

January 12, 2009, Monday, Kampala, Uganda

Paige works for Minnesota International Health Volunteers, an educational program in Minneapolis, Uganda, and Tanzania, that has been in place for a couple decades. The focus is malaria prevention, hiv/aids prevention, family planning. Phil contributes at-home support and photography and graphic design services. The office is in a building in the home compound, good for working family life. Check out andersonbowen.com/blog/. Read More!

Saturday we had a visit with Tom and Linda and kids. Tom, American, works for Save the Children, Linda, Swedish, started an organization that works with women in the northern part of the country. The two lively kids go to an international school in Kampala. They have traveled and worked all over Africa. Tom’s interest and background is in agriculture, and he has a passion for aloe plants, searching all over East Africa for more species. He gave a tour of his aloe garden. They will move back to California this summer to help Tom’s mother rebuild the family home which burned in the Santa Barbara fires. They have fascinating African art collection, including a recently acquired Kenyan fabric with Obama’s picture.

Also there were Luc and Majo, Belgian, and their daughter and adopted Ugandan son. He works for Save the Children also, and Majo has related work also. Very delightful people, all of them. Always there seem to be travel stories, of big travels.
Sunday we met Hilary, New Yorker, for breakfast at New York Kitchen, a restaurant in the corner of a parking garage, serving frappucino, bagels, and banana pancakes. The staffers love to carry Odin around, and he loves it too. Hilary is a technical writer for an NGO, perhaps headed for law school in a year or two.

Last night I went to be a fan at Frisbee practice. Most of the players were Ugandans, extremely friendly, all of them, including Robert, who said, “Oh, you are my grandmother.” He has declared himself Odin’s brother. Two Americans, Bethany and Phil, known as Short Phil at practice, are medical students at U of Minnesota, spending a year working with AIDS research for a year before medical residency back in the states. A Dutch woman, playing in her first-ever game, is a doctor working in internal medicine.

Foreigners are called Muzungus. Full Post

January 11, 2009, Sunday
I am giving thought to how I might make art that has a political message with current perhaps symbolic statement/s of my wishes for the state of the world today. So far, I have some scribbles on a page, and a blank woodblock with a pencil line border drawn on. I spent some time reading internet images and articles about 20th and 21st century American artists. The federal art project in the 1930’s employed 5300 visual artists to create works that reflected the local life, such as the compelling dust bowl photographs by Dorothea Lange. Read More!

Woodcuts in the west have a history of political content. Printing was what brought a voice to the people.

Thinking of symbols, most countries have a national bird, and a flag. Fred and I talked about having his students use the Ugandan flag as part of the images that they make next week. My assignment from Fred is to make something about the inauguration. Stay tuned. Full Post

January 9, 2009
6:30 pm. Odin is awake happy. Paige is sort of done with her endless work, since it is Friday night. We go on the nightly garden walk near sunset time. We admire the work Patrick has done, and a new hibiscus blossom. Uno makes his nightly lawn run with big leap to mount the big stump.

6:45pm. Odin to his bath, Phil feeds cats, closes and locks the house doors. The sun is an orange ball in the haze. The rubbish smoke is thicker than in the morning. More smell in the air. Read More!

6:55 pm. NPR Marketplace podcast sounds in the kitchen. Phil is cooking mutton sausages for the pasta sauce. Odin and Paige are having bedtime routine.

7:15 pm. Deepening blue sky.

7:25 pm. I open the South African wine and keep typing my journal.

8:05 pm. Phil’s desk is in the room next to mine. He shows me a sped up video of driving through Kampala, and the photos he took in Fred’s studio today. Odin is asleep. Paige, Phil, and I have wine in the kitchen while Phil finishes cooking. We talk about the upcoming Ultimate (Frisbee) tourney.

9:00 pm. Supper was delish. The big grass basket of belated Christmas treats comes back up on the table; we eat chocolate for dessert. I clean up the dishes. Back to the computer. Now the internet will be fast/er.

10:00 pm. The nightly bugler plays a taps-like song. This comes from down the hill in a military compound of some sort. Phil hangs up my mosquito net with a bigger hook. Back at his computer he notices that David has tried to call, so I try to call David on the Skype phone, and mess around with communicating for a while. I was happy to hear his voice, but it didn’t really work well enough. Still I am not done typing up my day, yet the day is almost done. I am too tired to finish the blog tonight.

11:00 pm. I brush my teeth, crawl more carefully under my net, read two pages by LED. That’s it for today. Gratitude. Full Post

January 9, 2009, Friday
6:00 am. My bed is a tangle. The mosquito net came down in the night. The pillows are over the edge. Outside is still dark. The call to prayer chant, in a scale not ours, sounds from below the garden. Below that is a rumble-roar of vehicle sounds. Uno the jungle cat’s bell is on the move. I click on my LED reading light to see my journal page. The yard light on my corner of the house goes off. Wilson, the night guard must see that the day is coming. The chanter has a speaking tone now; the language makes a rhythm with more variations than ours: the tone swings from admonishment to sports announcer. Layered over the engine sounds it could be Nascar. I hear the wooden clatter of Odin’s toys falling repeatedly to the floor. Perhaps he and Paige are up. Yes, now a gurgle. Read More!

6:15 am. The chant is finished. The car race continues. Ttaano the renegade cat wants in from the night of carousing. I’ll go see what’s up.

6:25 am. It was Odin and Phil, happy and stretched out in the Poang chair. I go to find a longer shirt to match the cool air. Trees silhouette against a deep blue sky. Birds now, whistling in a loop d’loop. Chirpadee chirpadee. Nascar sounds. Cat scratches on my luggage. Lights speckle the hillside facing us across the city. We are in Mbuya. That hill is Kosolo. Kampala, the capital city, is seven hills. Tea next. Odin is bungee jumping.

7:15 am. Sunlight reaches the valley houses. Nascar soundtrack. New MASADA Spiced Tea Bags CHAI BORA TRULY E. AFRICAN 50 TAGLESS TEA BAGS A cup with finest black tea &freshly ground spices. JESA FARM DAIRY 1 L. FULL CREAM JESA MILK Farm Fresh Pasteurised Homogenised Standardised MILK [black and white cow, white plastic bag in blue plastic pitcher closed with spring paper clip]

7:25 am Odin is dreaming and growing while Phil walks. Dreaming of growing Phil says. Uno jungle cat bell jiggles while he walks the patio.

7:30am. Sun on the top of Nakasero hill. Pink salmon light. African thrushes, pair of birds run along a high branch.

7:40 am. Quiet house. Shower for me. I worry about the frozen drains at home as I watch it working fine here. No freezing here.

8:03 am. More tea.

8:07 am. Odin is awake again. Condoleeza Rice on BBC Africa. Doors all open. Paige up. Barefoot all, except Odin’s fuzzy pajamas with the snowmen have feet in. Me on the patio reading. Wangari Maathai: Unbowed, One Woman’s Story.

8:25 am. Phil and Odin keep company. Odin chuckles when he gets tickled. A bird answers him. Paige comes and tickles him, too, and then he eats.

8:40 am. Harriet is here. Greetings, and then she changes into her colorful work clothes. Odin sitting and chatting. Phil teasing back. African harrier hawk and a crow in a nearby tree.

8:45 am. Patrick the gardener comes, “Good morning madam.” Odin is so happy to see Harriet. Her talk is fluid, African lilt,”Odin youcan’t come here yet. When you cry, then you come to me.” Itseems like a song.

8:55 am. Breakfast. Pineapple. Jesa yogurt [black and white cow]. BBC Africa. UN calls Gaza cease fire. Patrick is hoeing. Harriet is washing laundry with Odin in the baby bjorn giggling and wiggling.

9:10 am. Patrick, weekday guard, is reading the newspaper in the guardhouse at the gate.

9:30 am. Bugle. Dove. Mary is here to clean the house.

10:00 am. Drive to Fred’s. The driving is amazing. Every inch is a movie. [Watch for an actual movie in days to come.] As we turn into the neighborhood, traffic is stopped by a street fight. A mob of men shouts and pushes. Phil thinks likely petty thievery, always treated disproportionately to bureaucratic thievery, which gets largely ignored.

10:20 am. We are warmly greeted by Fred Mutebi.
I ask him how he got to be who he is:
I don’t know. There was some God in it. When I was a boy, it was peaceful I had my parents, it was before AIDS. [ I think Fred is 41.] My grandmother who attended to me thought my drawing was a waste of time. My uncle was an artist I saw what he did. Once I overheard my father say, I think this boy has talent, and can become like the uncle. Then AIDS came. I saw some of my older brothers go. We didn’t understand why they got sick. They left little ones, many little ones were without parents. I was left. I decided I wanted to be a role model. To show them they could be something. To show them with my art.
He pulls out his recent series of prints about the US election. They are wonderful. Here is what he said about them:
While I was traveling from the US, Europe, Africa, Obama was on TV, I saw people vote even when they didn’t physically cast a vote. You’ve thought about this, Change, Yes We Can, so we are going to do a mural on this at the Embassy because as a way of educating people about what Change means. I saw people excited, according to me, I would listen to BBC, and they would interview like Kenyans, and they would say OK now it’s going to be easier for us to go to the US. I was like, do these people understand what it means. There are many people who are excited about Change, but someone has to be committed. So this talking mural, I don’t know have you seen my talking murals? It’s kind of educational. It allows everybody to contribute the way they understand. So we want actually to know the way other people understand Change. And to me, as someone who was in the US, this is what I saw. I didn’t see people, I was seeing blue and red, the flag color. I am trying to compare elections here and in the US. There’s a difference. US people came together, you see democrats, you see republicans, independents, but you see color, styles, you see blue and red. I don’t know whether, Betsy, you’re mother’s an artist, but sometimes I wanted to find out, the people who design flags of countries, what did they have in mind when they design? And as an artist, when I was in the US, I saw stars, in space, the same way stars are in space is how the Americans were during the elections. And the same way you know, this looks like a zebra bottom, only this is stripes. The way zebras confuse the enemies they get together and you never catch it. Sometimes the lines just zebras. But the way they confuse by the patterns, they fight, one face for another. Talk about togetherness when it comes to solving problems. That’s why I brought in the flags. That’s why I brought in the zebra stripes to compare with these. And by the way, it took me back to colour. Because I was in my Orange Period, but that month, more than that, two months actually, I was there in May, and I went back in October and I was looking at TV and I was watching people mobilize, I was optimistic again, because I saw the goodwill of people wanting to make things better. So it took me back to colour. So I wanted to make five in two months, what normally takes me five months. That means when you were emailing and I didn’t reply to you in time, I disconnected myself from the rest of the world for about a whole month, and so now I want to see how the American artists express themselves as far as the elections goes and you can have an exhibition at your place, for what we do here with the Americans, and what we do together. Maybe what we can do together, we can think of, no, because we move from light to dark, we can think of something that we can do the two of us. You understand what I mean. You have a site, I have a site, you use wood, and I can help you to press, you put your paint, I put mine, and then we merge it. I think we might have an exhibition of me independent of nobody’s influence except the influence of the activities. And the children’s [work] they have nothing to do with the elections, but they have feelings about whatever affects them, and then the workshops with the Americans . . .
He gives us a tour of his compound, a building under construction, and says, This is what I built with your donation [from sales of his and the student prints]. But I ran out. It is not done, but there are three rooms, for therapeutic art. I will take a young person for two weeks, one person in each room, to work with them; they will make their art here.
Fred mentioned that he is working with young people in the villages.
I have to mobilize in the villages. The students, the teachers don’t know anything about art. I putout art materials and they look at them like a dog looks at money.
One of the schools he works with in the north, the war-torn region of the country, has seven hundred students. Most have no parents. Many have been child soldiers. Life is very rough. I think these are the students he hopes most of all to help.

12:30 pm. We drive home. No street fight this time. We are wiped from the intensity of it.

1:00 pm. Lunch, sandwich on the patio. Harriet is making doughnuts. She learned in culinary school, working in a hotel, to do each part of cooking. She would like to open a restaurant with a bakery on the side. I can make many things, bread, doughnuts. I need to first get the plan together. Get some capitol. Not a loan from the government; there may be losses. You need to get your own capitol to buy a few things, a few machines. But I can start small. I know someone who started with just a small room, two tables; she cooked and served the food. Then you can expand.”

1:40 pm. I write at the computer, looking out my desk window at a sunbird in the tropical foliage.

3:15 pm. Nap.

4:00 pm. I get up and notice two boys on the patio. They may have been there for a while. I recognize them from Phil’s blog photos, I guess they are about 12 years. Somewhat shy. Phil had told them his mother was coming and they asked, Does she walk with sticks, or is she firm? They are on school holidays now, waiting for their exam results next week. Phil gets up too after awhile. We get them some doughnuts. I show them my sketchbook, and one of the boys wants to know how I added the color. I will get paints out for them when they come back. They want to get a rabbit and keep it in the back yard here. Phil nixes the idea, but they don’t want to give it up.

4:30 pm. Phil and I go to the Italian restaurant and deli store to buy his favorite pasta to cook, and the favorite Parmesano. Then to the City Centre for more groceries and gumboots for Patrick in the garden. The escalator ramp is broken, so there is one track where people going up and shopping carts going down must use at the same time. There isn’t enough room, but it works out anyway, just like the driving.

6:30 pm. Odin is awake happy. Paige is sort of done with her endless valuable work, since it is Friday night. All of us go on the nightly garden walk near sunset time. We admire the work Patrick has done, and a new hibiscus blossom. Uno makes his nightly lawn run with big leap to mount the big stump.

6:45pm. Odin to his bath, Phil feeds cats, closes and locks the house doors.
Stay tuned for more . . . Full Post

Vervet monkeys came to the yard, on the roof of Paige's office, and leaping through the trees. One of the mother monkeys is missing half of an arm, and she jumped from one roof to another with her baby monkey holding onto her front. The yard is full of wonders, a big balancing snail and some bouganvillas caught my eye. Full Post

It's tropical here, 75 degrees I suppose daytime average. Today we went to the shopping center that has the coffee shop, and later Phil and I walked to the local market and back. Such another world here. Note the matatus (taxis), one spewing dark exhaust and the other off the pavement and full of passengers.

I will meet with Fred Mutebi on Thursday to figure out our art program. It was nice to meet Harriet, baby Odin's nanny, and the other workers here, they are all so gracious and nice, and proud of Uganda. The foliage is so lush and lovely, and the bird wake-up sounds are a treat. There was a short but vigorous afternoon rain. Full Post

January 5, 2009, Schiphol airport, Amsterdam. I am not even there yet, and this is what I have encountered so far in my journey: Dreams, Vision, Passion, Persistence, Kindness. The movie on the little screen in the seat ahead of me in the plane played Man on the Wire, about Phillipe Petit’s wire walking, including the span between the Twin Towers, in 1974. I held my breath. His passion, his speaking about making each day a work of art, his dream—-he retained his excitement about living his life at the edge always.

As we taxied to the gate, I finished an Icelandic novel by Arnaldur Indridason, about the persistence of kindness in the face of harsh truth. Full Post

January 4, 2009, Top of the Radisson, Duluth. Snowy, blowy. But I’m going to Uganda. How can I get out of bringing all my winter clothes with me? Full Post

January 3, 2009, The Farm. A long time waking up, and in between, a full-on big dream of Gypsy revelry; horses peering in the kitchen window. Pigs, chickens, camp set up outside the kitchen door. Children running through the fire circle. The dream took me to a circus town, and back to the kitchen with a baby pig running about, and a large carp on the floor.

When I awoke fully, I went to the kitchen to look for signs that maybe it had been real, and saw that a fox and geese circle had been stamped in the snow. I guess the dream was true. Full Post

More fluffy snow fell today, softening the trees, the cars, the sounds.
Tonight again I will add to the pile of what to take to Africa. Less than two days left to finish the list of undones, yikes! Full Post