The developing world contains a wealth of talent fueled by an innocent passion for the beautiful game of soccer, which has the potential to open avenues toward community development. From the barren, dirt playgrounds of Uganda to the swampy, overgrown pitches in Jamaica, the need for support from industrialized nations is apparent. International sport and world aid agencies are omnipresent in the developing world, but it has only been in recent years that the two have begun collaborating to achieve complimentary objectives.

In the Global South, the juxtaposition which continues to fascinate me is the obsession with European soccer and the lack of actual sport participation, especially among children. A report issued by UNESCO (United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Office) addressed the paradox of limited participation: The 20th century population explosion in the developing world has created a per capita shortage of sports equipment and facilities. Compounding the problem is a shortage of the coaches and instructors who would typically be the ambassadors of youth participation.

Young boys emulating the motions of famous names like Ronaldo and Van Persie are as ubiquitous as the Manchester United and Arsenal memorabilia found in the local markets. Unfortunately, unsupervised soccer played in the dirt with an empty water bottle as a ball does not lead to much actual soccer development. As many times as a youngster can ‘Maradona’ an improvised ball past his opponent, this skill does not translate onto a manicured playground with a regulation soccer ball. Moreover, kicking a ball around in the street does not contain the potential social benefits of an organized, structured team, with a knowledgeable coach providing instruction and guidance.

International organizations – from UNESCO and FIFA’s Football (Soccer) for Hope to independent NGOs like Aganar and Tackle Africa – have recognized this disconnect and are stepping in with their respective mission statements and shared vision of development through sport. By providing new balls, nets, whistles and a safe environment for youth to participate, they are allowing those – who might not otherwise get the chance – to play and develop skills. At the same time, aid agencies recognize the social dilemmas faced by youth and use the platform of sport for the transmission of life skills. The result of this process is a bright new generation of coaches and athletes who are adept in communication skills, leadership, teamwork, and fair play and informed about reproductive health and decision making.

Industrialized sport has long recognized the passion and raw talent that emerges from the developing world – Africa and South America among other regions continue to produce world-class athletes out of shantytowns and bumpy playing fields. In return for the talent that has been exported from Third World nations, industrialized sport has historically not done enough to reinvest in the communities that produce it. The notion of giving back through soccer, however, has recently been popularized through the promotion of sport projects as a dividend to soccer-frenzied communities, and more so, as a legitimate development initiative. Counties around the world have incorporated sport projects as a notable part of their national development plans, however are anxiously awaiting the knowledge and financial support for implementation.

The UN Declaration of the Rights of the Child established the opportunity for youth recreation and play as a basic human right. Though it is rare for these rights to be explicitly denied, they are hardly fought for as a means to community strengthening in the developing world, despite being explicitly called for in government literature. International aid supportinggrassroots soccer initiatives has the potential to take the organic passion for soccer in the Global South, and turn it into the elusive achievement of sustainable development.

Kampala, Uganda

The developing world contains a wealth of talent, fueled by an innocent passion for the beautiful game of soccer, which has the potential to open avenues toward community development. From the barren, dirt playgrounds of Uganda to the swampy, overgrown pitches in Jamaica, the need for support from industrialized nations is apparent. International sport and world aid agencies are both very familiar with the developing world, but it has only been in recent years that the two have begun collaborating to achieve complimentary objectives.

In the Global South, the juxtaposition which continues to fascinate me is the obsession with European soccer and the lack of actual sport participation, especially among children. A report issued by UNESCO (United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Office) addressed the paradox of limited participation: The 20th century population explosion in the developing world has created a per capita shortage of sports equipment and facilities. Compounding the problem is a shortage of the coaches and instructors who would typically be the ambassadors of youth participation. Young boys emulating the motions of famous names like Ronaldo and Van Persie are as ubiquitous as the Manchester United and Arsenal memorabilia found in the local markets. Unfortunately, unsupervised soccer played in the dirt with an empty water bottle as a ball does not lead to much actual football development. As many times as a youngster can ‘Maradona’ an improvised ball past his opponent, this skill does not translate onto a manicured playground with a regulation football. Moreover, kicking a ball around in the street does not contain the potential social benefits of an organized, structured team, with a knowledgeable coach providing instruction and guidance. International organizations – from UNESCO, FIFA’s Football for Hope to independent NGOs, like Tackle Africa – have recognized this disconnect and are stepping in with their respective mission statements but shared vision of development through sport. By providing new balls, nets, whistles and a safe environment for children to participate, they are allowing those – who might not otherwise get the chance – to play and develop skills. At the same time, aid agencies recognize the social dilemmas faced by youth and use the platform of sport for the transmission of life skills. The result of this process is a bright new generation of coaches and athletes who are adept in communication skills, leadership, teamwork, and fair play and informed about reproductive health and decision making. Professional sport has long recognized the passion and raw talent that emerges from the developing world – Africa and South America among other regions continue to produce world-class footballers out of shantytowns. In return for the talent that has been exported from Third World nations, industrialized sport has historically not done enough to reinvest in the communities that produce it. The notion of giving back through football, however, has recently been popularized through the promotion of sport projects as a dividend to football-frenzied communities, and more so, as a legitimate development initiative. Counties around the world have incorporated sport projects as a notable part of their national development plans, however are anxiously awaiting the knowledge and financial support for implementation. The UN Declaration of the Rights of the Child established the opportunity for youth recreation and play as a basic human right. Though it is rare for these rights to be explicitly denied, they are hardly fought for as a means to community strengthening in the developing world, despite being explicitly called for in government literature. International aid supporting grassroots football initiatives has the potential to take the organic passion for football in Third World countries, and accomplish the elusive goal of sustainable development.

On March 31st, 2010, I finished my two year Peace Corps service in Uganda. After 4 months at home in Kentucky, I left for Jamaica to continue working in sports development with Peace Corps Response. Peace Corps Response provides short-term, high impact assignments to Returned Peace Corps Volunteers. I will be in Jamaica for six months.

Hi Friends!

I am happy to know that you are interested in learning about life in Africa. I am a United States Peace Corps Volunteer who has lived in Uganda for the past two years. Uganda is a small county (about the size of Oregon) in East Africa. I would like to answer the questions that your class sent to me.

1. Is it cold in Africa at night?

Africa is made up of about 50 different countries and is the second largest continent in the world! Because Africa is so big, there are many different climates. Even in the tiny country of Uganda, there are many different climates. Where I live, it is similar to Kentucky in the summer; it is usually hot during the day, then it gets cool (but not cold) during the night. In other areas of the county, like near the Rwenzori Mountains, it can get pretty cold at night.

2. What kind of animals live where you are?

You might be surprised to know the answer of this question...chickens, cows, goats, and pigs are everywhere! In America, these animals are usually kept on a farm, but in Uganda, very many families own some sort of livestock and these animals are usually just aloud to roam freely. Even in the capital city of Kampala, it is not unusual to see a cow in the road!

3. Do lions live by you and if so, could you tell us about them?

Unfortunately, there are no lions very close to me. Just like wild animals in America, they are scared away by groups of people and couldn't survive in a populated area (not to mention people and lions wouldn't get along very well). There are several national parks in Uganda where lions live. These parks allow people to go on safari and see the animals in their natural habitats. In Uganda, some of the wild animals include lions, elephants, zebras, leopards, giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, gorillas, chimps and many others.

4. How are the kids you work with? Do they go to a school like ours?

Children in Uganda and many other African counties have a lot of responsibilities (CHORES)! Depending on the age and gender of a child, they may be responsible for the cooking, cleaning, fetching water, taking care of a younger sibling and/or looking after livestock. When kids have this many chores at home, two things are true: They love to play during any free time they get and THEY LOVE TO GO TO SCHOOL! It can be sad though, that because a child has this much responsibility at home, and because going to school costs money, many children do not get to go to school. A parent may choose one child over another to go to school, and it's often the girls that get left at home. As Americans, we can some times forget how lucky we are to have so many opportunities at education.

I hope you enjoy the pictures of Ugandan schools near my home!

If you have any more questions, I would love to answer them. I will try to include more pictures as well. Take care and I look forward to hearing back from you!

Nicholas Tenorio

Peace Corps Uganda

On the way home this evening, I had a 20 minute conversation, in Luganda, with a complete stranger. Its amazing what can happen when you slow things down...

I had an early evening dinner at the guest house that is not-so-curiously placed between my town and the far more rural village over. I say not-so-curiously because stumbling upon a well maintained ground in an isolated, lush environment offering snack food, cold drinks and satellite T.V. makes perfect sense to the American mind. I begin to ponder a cultural neglect of the aesthetic, but then consider the unfairness of such a conclusion. How can I have such expectations if no one in the surrounding community has the disposable money or leisure for a cold Milk Stout.

Rising or setting, the Ugandan sun is always pleasing. Looking out, feeling a comfortable loneliness, I take my time at beginning the two kilometer walk home. I set out, still enjoying the sun set, but begin to consider the haste with which I usually move around. It all fits within the local perception of Westerners: Stifled greetings, zipping from place to place. How much do we sacrifice at the expense of productivity...or self interest?

At a snail's pace, you see things differently. Others see you differently. I greet a group of women discussing what is to be purchased at the market. The group begins to move with me in the direction of my house - the younger girl giggling at my Luganda, the oldest thanking me for learning the language. The two youngest, presumably the daughters, take a different direction and I'm left walking alone with the mother for the remaining 400 metres to my house.

I am not conversational in Luganda, I am hardly intermediate. But some days, I feel more capable at picking things up, or more brazen in my attempts to speak. i.e. Shooting questions which fall within my vocabulary, or whose answers may be predictable. Regardless of how successful these methods may be, they most often reach a point where I have to admit my ignorance, usually sooner than later. On this night, walking so slowly that I found it challenging to keep balance, she asked all the right questions, I countered with all the right answers.

Why did this 40 minute walk create such a stir of emotions once I got home? Just one of those days I guess, or a year and a half from home is catching up with me. Or because, when I return to America in six short months, no one will have the time or interest to share an evening walk with a complete stranger.

I would like to express my grievance with the termination of Peace Corps Uganda’s Country Director, Dr. Larry Brown. Dr. Brown’s dismissal comes as a shock to Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) as he was respected for his dedication to the Peace Corps Mission and cherished for his personal involvement with PCV activities. The decision for Larry’s termination has not yet been adequately justified. The absence of the brightest and freshest light throughout Peace Corps Uganda has left the entire program in disarray. We are seeking understanding.

Aside from my primary work with the Local Government's Education Department, I have begun a secondary project more closely related to economic development. The project of hand stitching leather footballs began as a hobby to occupy my free time, but Dr. Brown helped me to envision the potential of creating a ‘cottage industry’ for a highly demanded product. Beyond his mere enthusiasm and encouragement, Larry brokered pivotal contacts for the upstart.

Not only has Dr. Brown’s sudden absence taken one dedicated mind away from this project, it has created stagnant communication among the various stakeholders which were only beginning to take shape. This is the single testament from one of 150 approximate PCVs in Uganda. I know first hand of Larry’s personal involvement with other PCV activities - all of which are surely in the same disorder as my own due to his expedited departure. If not for his own saving-of-face among a group of volunteers and a program he loved so dearly, professional discretion would have warranted Dr. Brown the opportunity to gracefully remove himself from his integral involvement.

In the wake of this rash decision, the statement issued to PCVs regarding the arbitrary dismissal was based on the parlance of the Peace Corps Oath/Swearing-in Statement. As volunteers dedicated to our work and our program, we deserve a more comprehensive justification of these actions and the opportunity for Dr. Brown to make an official statement.

Dr. Brown was a returned Peace Corps Volunteer serving the Peace Corps on behalf of volunteers. For this reason he was held by many PCVs as more than the County Director - as a colleague and friend. Larry was a paragon of the balance between friendship and professionalism. Despite policies which were not all popular among volunteers - our safety and efficiency always visibly at hand - his leadership and council was cherished.

It is impossible to reconcile the impact Larry’s swift removal has had on Peace Corps Uganda; it is up for Peace Corps Washington to adequately justify their decision or to reinstate Dr. Larry Brown to the program most in need of his guidance. Lack of action represents a lack of touch by Peace Corps Washington with the pulse of Peace Corps’ Lifeblood - the volunteers. Dr. Larry Brown will be missed in Uganda, albeit his passion will surely benefit the next community at which his efforts are aimed.

Sincerely Yours,

Nicholas Tenorio PCV

Peace Corps Uganda

http://creativewell.com/pdf/brown.pdf

Ask your former high school Basketball coach about the benefits of sport and he’ll likely start a nostalgic rant about hard work, being part of a team, leadership, and most of all, HEART. These are somehow stereotypical values, but none-the-less values that serve the same benefits in the developing world. Particularly among females where the idea of female participation is inchoate (yeah, I’m studying for the GRE).

Social development, gender equity, conflict resolution, enabling people with disabilities: As said by Right to Play (2008), ‘There are few areas of development where sport cannot be used as a platform…to strengthen individual capacity and improve lives’. So how about economic development?

In the industrialized West, the economic thread of sport averages two percent of gross domestic product (SAD, 2005). Indirect benefits such as public health, production saved from decreased illness and social/organization skills gained among youth remain without quantitative measure. In terms of economic growth, there is also no holistic measure to the contribution and sustainability created by world class sports event. Reference Mexico City ‘86, Beijing ‘08, Johannesburg ‘10, etc. As far as Peace Corps, grassroots initiatives go, the question posed: What role can sports play at the village-level?

The answer depends on the creativity and ability of the volunteer to identify opportunities, as well as his/her community’s availability of resources and existing interest in sport. Also, ask yourself which variety of economic benefits you are trying to bring to your community: While each plays into the other, one has an associated shillings and cents price tag (income generating activity), and the other offers the less tangible benefits associated with personal capacities.

Let us consider the issue of community interest and resource availability. In Uganda, my experience at site has brought two big surprises: The popularity of and the devotion to professional, European Fútból, and the lack of sport participation at the village level, especially among children. This later point was brought forth in a 1995 UNESCO report (SAD, 2005), offering some insight as to why:

The 20th Century population explosion in the developing world has created a per capita shortage of access to sports facilities (balls, playgrounds, goals, etc.). This problem reflects and/or creates a shortage of sport instruction and promotion in the most likely places of schools and community organizations. Combine with the assumption that there is a community interest in sport (cellophane footballs and the religious cult dubbed Man U) these challenges raised by UNESCO present the opportunity of intervention for a Peace Corps Volunteer just like you!

My own work in sport has begun with an intervention to the shortage of sport facilitators. The Youth for Youth Coaching (Y4Y) program works to increase the capacities of young adults by teaching them skills in youth sports coaching. In the same motion as training coaches, Y4Y teaches these likely role models how to foster youth social development on the playground. Despite countering several social challenges at once, the project operates at a relatively low budget. The only problem with budgets is that they often require money.

The single greatest and most recurring expense to my sports project has been sports equipments, more specifically balls. Through repetitive purchases I have found that the balls available on the market are of poor quality and expensive. Overpriced balls with short expiry dates exacerbate the previously mentioned problem of facility shortages. A problem which Alive and Kicking UK (2005) referred to as “The Ball Famine in Africa”.

My approach to the creativity I mentioned before involves taking an idea and making in better (or at least your own). Alive and Kicking UK operate three, not-for-profit, hand=stitched ball factories in Kenya, Zambia and South Africa with most materials being attained locally. However, the idea of hand stitched footballs at first seemed a bit too ambitious for a Peace Corps Volunteer. It wasn’t until I began noticing the butcheries with cow hides piled up like dirty laundry that I began to consider the feasibility of a locally made leather ball.

In January, I completed my first hand-stitched football using only materials available in Uganda. Despite no previous stitching experience and some methods which were less than mathematical or efficient, the trial run was a success. In line with the objectives of the first ball, I have found that the materials are available and the processes could be easily taught as an income generating activity. The only question remaining is whether a marketable ball can be produced considering the cost of materials, processes and labor.

As of June, steps have been made in the right direction. I have found the appropriately fabricated leather and solutions to certain problems presented by ‘large-scale’ production. At the right price, I will begin purchasing enough materials to get ahead of the learning curve, and then begin teaching the process to interested community members. The first candidates will be the members of Wakiso’s football team who do nothing but play Ludo until its time for football.

My most ambitious vision for this project is that it will generate enough revenue to create a source of income for a number of unemployed, young adults while also sustaining the Youth for Youth Coaching program in Wakiso. Both goals are a long way off, but the project continues to move forward.

Sport should be considered a sector of society where there is potential for growth and opportunity. How can you pair your creativity with the opportunities which exist in your community? For more ideas on Sport for Development, download the reports referenced in this article:

Swiss Agency for Development (SAD), 2005

Sport for Development and Peace

http://www.sportanddev.org/newsnviews/search.cfm?uNewsID=51

Right To Play, 2008

Harnessing the Power of Sport for Development and Peace: A Recommendation to Governments

http://www.righttoplay.com/pdfs/SDPIWG/SDPIWG%20Summary_Report.pdf

Three months have past in what felt like the time it usually takes me to bucket bathe. In mid-January, my friend Katie came to visit, and in March, my brother Lucas also came. There trips overlapped by a couple weeks, during which time we traveled around the Coast of Kenya. We visited Malindi, Lamu Island and Mombasa. The Swahili culture, and food, made the visit too short, but it won't be the last.

Overall, I was quite surprised by Kenya and how it differs from Uganda. The 'development' process seemed quite a bit further along based on the general organization of the places we saw. While in Nairobi, I felt like I could have been in any big American city-quite a relief from the daily chaos of Kampala. Despite the crime statistics of Nairobi and the constant warnings from my Ugandan colleagues, I never felt unsafe in the bustling, green city.

During our time the Capital, we got a first-class tour of the hand-stitching football factory, Alive and Kicking. While I didn't receive much insight on the particular processes which are still struggling in my own endeavor, I did get some great advice and new ideas. It turns out the company does not manufacture the panels that are stitched into footballs, they only design and assemble them. Though I would be working on a much smaller scale, I hope to be assembling the footballs from raw materials to the finished product.

With the company of my visitors I have taken a week of vacation here and there, along with a few long weekends. Despite being a flake, I have had more things to show for and am now on the downhill slide of what was an uphill struggle. In the first quarter of the year, I have convinced my office to hire on a full-time District Sports Officer and I constructed my first hand-stitched football. With the help of a youth organization in my town, I successfully held a youth football day-camp and taught Lifeskills in two schools. Last month, I had a grant approved which will allow me to implement a comprehensive sports program in my town.

It is a great feeling to be making progress when it took so long to get to this point. With that said, my real work is just beginning with only one year remaining.

The ball design is wacky and it is a bit too light, but otherwise, my first hand-stiched football (soccer ball) is a tremendous success. On Wednesday, I am touring a hand-stitching football factory in Nairobi. I have a few questions about materials, and I hope to get some ideas about making the process more efficient. If I find the right answers to my questions, my football team and I will begin the first ball making operation in Uganda.

Among the setbacks for sports in Uganda, is a lack of Coaching. The reasons for this are a lack of sport specific, technical knowledge; a lack of locally available coaching resources; and a lack of balls and equipment (playing a game of football is the easiest way to involve 22 players at once). If a greater interest could be generated in coaching and the appropriate resources we made available, it could greatly enhance the quality and quantity of participation.

In response, I would like to compile basic to intermediate coaching information on the five most popular sports in Uganda (Football, Netball, Athletics, Volleyball and Basketball). This coaching manual would be made available to games teachers and coaches within my district (schools and community organizations), then further, to other volunteers who would like to begin sports teams but don't know enough about sports to get started. The guide would have drills for basic technique development, fitness improvement and tactical skills up to the intermediate level.

If anyone reading this blog has sport specific knowledge or reference materials on the coaching of any of the sports listed, it could really get me moving. I am posting this request now because I have a visitor coming next month, on the 17th, from home. If he could get these materials before he left, it would save the cost of shipping. Books on coaching can be found from Amazon.com for very cheap. As people begin making suggestions and contribution, I will list what has been accommodated for on the 'comments' of this post.

Any help will go a long way!!!

Coach Nico

Last week I helped a Youth Organization in my town organize and hold a Boys and Girls Football (Soccer) Clinic. Though we had a few challenges - inconsitent turn-outs and especially low female participation - it was a really great week. I have been working closely with this Youth Community-Based Organization (CBO), and will be developing a more comprehensive sport program for them throughout the year. Hopefully in the future we will better serve the needs of young girls who are typically restricted to Netball.

I have gotten pretty passive about odd noises in the night. The night club next door to my house, the neighbors' 10pm spiritual chanting, and what ever else likes to bump or boogy as I'm trying to sleep. Last night was different. Around 3 am a pack of wild dogs chased a full grown cow onto my front porch. Hooves on the concrete ten feet from my head got my attention. When I realized it wasn't a safari stampede, I pulled the covers off my head and peaked out the window. I pulled back the curtain and was staring a dairy cow in the face. After a spell of bark-moo exchange, it sounded like the cow took a nose dive off the porch. All that remained this morning were a few muddy hoove prints.

More stories to come... '2009 - The Year of Uganda'

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

and be safe!

Kentucky in Uganda

Christmas at the Providence Home

Emma with bubbles

A Ugandan Santa Clause (introduced by our hosts from the Providence home as a visitor from the Far East)

Boy do I miss seasons. I took a strong whiff of Lawry's chili seasoning and Thriller coming through the iPod mini-speakers to make the psychological shift to 'Fall'. That transition came a month late, now it's December 19th and still not Christmas.

I should admit, though, that I came close last month. I was at the grocery store in Wakiso wiping out their supply of Cadbury chocolate bars and browsing the shelves for something I may have missed the night before. I sat on the porch of the grocery, across from the local police station, and began eating a mini cup of chocolate ice cream. Next door to the police station is Wakiso's largest retail store - let's call it a mall- who began pumping the Kenny Rodgers' Christmas album.

Peace Corps warns volunteers about the 'fish bowl' affect that most volunteers experience. For me, the feeling of eyes always watching, even those of the neighbor children as I'm sitting in my house late at night typing this post, has cramped my personal expression. I find myself holding back my sense of humor with Ugandans more than anything.

On this particular night though, I was feeling unashamed of my enjoyment for the holiday music. I let the melody take its grip and began violently swaying to the song while singing along in my best bat-fetchin'-trick-with-my-teeth voice. The mouth full of ice cream really set it off. Two years ago, stocking Liquor Barn's shelves to the likes of Kenny Rodgers' Christmas would have brought me to tears of annoyance. Now I was rocking it out, imagining a cool winter breeze stealing my breath, with the smiling stares cutting through the darkness.

Anyhow, the fact that I was wearing shorts and eating ice cream put a halt on the season really taking over. The corny holiday decorations, the animatronic Santa Claus at the supermarket, even the Thanksgiving stuffing haven't had a lasting affect. On Christmas Day, I'm going with my closest Peace Corps friends handing out stockings to homeless 'street children'. If that doesn't do it, nothing will.

…Saturday morning and a weekend to burn.

I bummed around the house without motivation for anything constructive. I found a random movie I hadn’t seen on a street purchased 30-in-1 Hollywood Action Films Compilation. The Jason Statham special, Snatch included. Torn against my idle state of mind, I found the will to go into town around three o’clock and find a couple stools and a small table for the house. Turning out to be a quick trip, I found exactly what I was looking for and didn’t even have to haggle. Before heading back, I found a couple pieces of gonja and a Coke. Gonja not to be confused with ganja - both readily available on the street, the former being a delicious piece of plantain, street-grilled to perfection.

The taxi conductor back to Wakiso decided to test my ingenuity. I asked him where to put my table and stools and he said he would take care of them. He casually placed them on the roof of the taxi. “They will stay, sit down.” No one showing any obvious intention to secure my living room furniture, I got out, found a piece of twine covered in taxi park soup and tied my table to the rack. I sat down again with a mild case of annoyance and waited for the taxi to fill. The last, brightly wrapped passenger sat down next to me and we were off.

I looked over and greeted friendly eye contact with ‘Gyebale, Nnyabo’ (well done, madam). She somehow confused my amazing Luganda with Salaam Alaaikum, a common greeting in Swahili and among the population’s many Muslims. I clarified myself, and she corrected that she was not Muganda. “I’m from Mali, in West Africa.” I asked her the few obvious questions: ‘how long have you been here,’ ‘how do you like it here,’ ‘what do you do?’ She had told me she’d been in Uganda for only two years, but had lived in East Africa for many years. She had been away from her native Mali for most of her life. It was okay here, the people were friendly, but her West African clothing business had been slow lately. With that the conversation began to fade.

Unsatisfied, I countered the silence with a few more questions about her family and her business. Her husband hailed from Guinea and cuts gemstones for jewelry which is shiped to Thailand and The States. She told me about her two kids who were brought up in Kenya. The topic somehow shifted to food and I was very interested to know the difference between West African food and its bland African opposite. She assured that her food is quite different and that she didn’t care so much for Uganda’s Matooke staple.

“I can cook for you some time.”

Said in passing, as if I wouldn’t really care to come to her house and join her family for a meal, I quickly seized interest in the gesture. She suddenly became more animated, “come over tomorrow!”

With something to look forward to, I continued home and went to sleep early. She invited me over for eleven o’clock but I had to indulge in some hand washed laundry before going. I found a pineapple at the market and boarded yet another taxi. Carefully, I watched for the gate she pointed out at dusk. The prospect of an exotic meal had me too excited to take specific note of where the house was. Luckily, there aren’t many red brick fences with a looming red roof enclosed. ‘Mas awo!’ (I don’t know exactly what it means but the taxi always stops)

There were two men outside the gate who were obviously expecting me. They greeted me with the slightest tinge of Français I had noticed in Daffe the day before. David and Abu were Daffe’s husband, and his uncle. They led me inside the gate and the beautiful red roof I noticed from the road was attached to an unfinished house. Directly behind was the current dwelling, equally as impressive compared to the Ugandan standard. Here was Daffe in less colorful attire, but hard at work cooking my day’s entertainment. I was seated inside on a comfy sofa in front of a 27” television.

“I’m bringing the tea…or would you prefer coffee?” This is the beginning of a great relationship.

In spite of my excitement for the coffee, Daffe insisted that I take African spiced, milk tea while I waited for David and Abu to prepare the coffee. I didn’t catch the name for it, but they used a small, three-part, steal contraption to brew the coffee grinds from Burundi. The product was an ultra strong espresso shot of bliss. I sat back and appreciated the unexpected as a tri-lingual, Congolese parrot walked in. “Don’t shit on the floor!” Abu commanded the parrot who was hoping from the floor to the desk.

Abu, also from Guinea, has also spent much of his life in East Africa. He works with his brother, who lives in California, as an antique African arts dealer. Abu finds art from various vendors and ships it to his brother who sells it to museums or private buyers in America. With a skinny frame and his perfectly white hair and beard Abu is just as interesting to look at as he is to talk to. Despite a common language, it is rare for me to come across someone here, for who I am not constantly repeating and rephrasing. He has never been to American, but spent some time in Europe.

The usual African lunch time is around two or three o’clock, so I was wondering why Daffe had invited me over for eleven. Before I was to get a taste of West African food, the family thought it was necessary that I be adept in West African culture. First there were the same badly made music videos you see in Uganda, but with music that sounded less Westernized. Then David put on an epic musical with people in various animal costumes playing djembe drums. Lunch was almost ready when I was treated to a Nigerian chick flick and given a French, West African Literature book to peruse.

You can order rice in Uganda, but you get muchere (Luganda for rice). Muchere is served with an assortment of pebbles and is usually more of a mush then individual grains of rice. Daffe carried in a mound of fluffy, snow white rice along with two giant bowls of sauce. I have no idea what either was made from, green and yellow, but they actually had flavor and spices and were delicious. All this food was set in front of me, but I convinced the daughter, Sarah, to share the plate with me. It made no difference though. Every time we got close to accomplishment, another bowl was unloaded on the unfinished plate.

My pineapple was finally brought out, sweet and satisfying and somehow an ease to my ballooning tummy. No later had I finished the last piece of fruit when I realized that Daffe had already begun preparing for dinner. I had blindly wandered into an all day affair.

Less than three hours later, after the second and third sequel to the Nigerian chick flick, it was time to add more food to my undigested lunch. A king’s feast had artistically been configured onto a normal sized plate. I’d never had this feeling of preemptive sickness and complete appetite at the same time. I was given a fork, which seemed unusually small, and this time Sarah wasn’t willing to help. Kobayashi also happens to be family friends with Daffe and David. Fried fish, chips (french fries), and fried bananas covered in onions and hot peppers. I knew if I survived the night, I had to hang on to these people.

After my meal, the family finally agreed to see me off. Daffe declared herself my African Mother and placed a standing invitation for me to visit every single day. My bowels couldn’t handle that, but I would definitely be around on Sundays. David walked with me across the street to hail the final taxi of the weekend. Throughout the week, I received daily phone calls from Daffe, reminding me of my family status and the wish of a good day. Being wholeheartedly welcomed and feeling so comfortable in the presence of nearly-strangers, I look forward to having these new friends.

September was a slow month. Up to now, the months have been blinking by, only hung up by a day here and there. The Peace Corps saying – Days can drag, but the weeks fly by. The leading cause of homesickness, thus far, is making short-term volunteer friends and seeing them off from their brief stays. It’s a double whammy of having a friend leaving, and knowing that they are going to eat Taco Bell as soon as they get off the plane. Whenever I start to get home sick, I break up time into manageable segments and try not to dwell on the big number of ‘months left in Uganda’. After all, I love what I am doing here and every day is a new experience. Even if I do miss home. So, the trick is setting short and long term benchmarks.

The 9th of October is celebrated by Ugandans as Independence Day and by Peace Corps Volunteers as a long weekend in the same month as Halloween. Complete with costumes, an annual goat roast on one of Uganda’s many lake fronts has taken tradition. A nice substitute for American Halloween madness, but for me, the year just isn’t completed without An American Werewolf in London – an excellent addition to any fall care package.

I left Wakiso on Thursday morning to begin the four hour trip. Trying to ‘go it ruff’, I packed up my guitar, stuffed in a towel, toothbrush and change of underwear and made my way to Kampala. The taxi unloads outside of the taxi park (hub of public transport and every manifestation of filth possible) where I would be catching the bus to Masaka. Drudging through the ever present mud in search of the boarding stage, I crossed a buddy from my pre-service training group. With some new company, I hopped on the next bus to Lake Nabugabo.

There were only two seats available in the back corner of the bus. I sit down next to the window to find no space between my knees and the hard plastic seat in front of me. Christian piles in next to me and I try not to think about being completely surrounded in the back of a death trap on wheels. For someone who is not claustrophobic or so easily discomforted, I have to concentrate in order to keeping my cool when riding the bus. Public transport in Uganda is not for everyone.

The bus is pushed to a jump-start with only ten feet of running room and we are on the way. I tried to forget about my uncomfortable position by reading a newspaper I bought from a hawker, only to realize I didn’t even have room to unfold the paper. The article on Palin’s relationship to Princess Dianna would have to wait. Tumbling along, we crossed over to the bottom half of the earth and made it to the lake in time for lunch.

Pulling up to the lake I felt both refreshed by the remote, blue body of water and discomforted by being at least five miles from the nearest village. Usually I would rejoice in both truths, but trying to keep a tight monthly budget, I had to do this trip on a shoestring. No village meant no $.50 meals and the only alternative of expensive resort food. Not only did I not want to compromise my Lamu Island trust fund, but I had only brought enough cash for matooke meals.

At this point, I made the decision to rock out for one night on the lake, then hit up the Equator landmark and café on the way back to the Northern Hemisphere the next day. Yeah I’d miss the big party, but I didn’t bring a costume anyway. Passing up a social gathering to be responsible is usually not my thing, but I stuck to it. After a night of hanging out by the campfire, I woke up with a dip in the lake, coffee and toast. We spent the rest of the morning playing guitar on the beach with the perfect breeze off the lake. Some Frisbee in the lake and it was time to track the trek back to town. I later found out that others who were playing in the lake found leeches in such unmentionable places that they took four, uncomfortably helping hands to safely remove. Time for a thorough inspection.

The Equator makes its trip through Uganda some 40 kilometers southwest of Kampala. At the site, there are landmarks on either side of the road, a few craft stores and a legitimate coffee shop. I sat down to a delicious mug of black coffee and an enormous cinnamon muffin. I was about to buy the first Luganda phrase book I had come across but it was appropriately priced for this tourist trap. I tried explaining to the lady in my broken Luganda that I could more easily convince her to reduce the price if she would sell me the book. No luck, but I took note of the publisher. Outside there was a group on a safari bus, probably heading to Queen Elizabeth National Park. I’m sure groups like this have the trip of a lifetime - Uganda is a beautiful place - but it’s also a shame that they are right on the brink, yet so unlikely to venture the few steps from the path to see the villages, to eat local food, or to drink the local millet brew from a communal bucket with a bamboo straws.

The unusually pounding hot sun had drained all my energy for the day and I was ready to get back home. I had a quick look through the craft stores and saw all the same ‘traditional’ Ugandan art that is sold at all the tourist destinations. It was time to catch a taxi.

As a rule of thumb, I try to avoid empty taxis. Without a full load (up to 25 people on a VW size mini bus) you pull off at arbitrary loading points until the conductor harasses enough people to hop on board. This taxi had only three passengers, but it was the only one in sight and I wasn’t really in a hurry. I sat in the front seat with the only seat belt on the vehicle and tried to protect my burn nose from the sun with my guitar case. The ride into town passed in slow motion. With the right Reggae Africana on the radio, the banana trees in the setting sun, the warm glow of body odor and being pressed out the passenger window of an overloaded chicken bus, you can almost feel the cameras rolling.

Saturday morning and a weekend to burn…

With one month left until the fate of the nation, I thought I would take a few moments to do my part. Go to the polls and vote on November 4th! I hope everyone is as nervous and excited in the approach of this election as me. While I don't get to celebrate a public holiday, I did have the advantages of sending my vote via the Ugandan Postal Service and not standing in line. I am asking that your voice, however small you may find it, be heard as well. And to take an extra sticker for your friend in Africa.

I have found a place near my home to catch the following day's re-airings of Monday Night Football and the Presidential Debates (go Favre and go Packers). I just finished watching a bit of the Vice debate between Palin and Biden until I was over-ruled with Cambodian football replays. Not to give my feedback on this specific debate, but I would like to list my opinions on the general election for anyone who cares to read them:

I think that everyone at home has a much better understanding of our nations current vulnerability. One, because it is in your face 24/7 and two, because you are paying the prices at the gas stations, struggling with credit debts and finding it more and more difficult to get ahead. This notably makes you more informed than myself, however, being in Uganda has given me quite a new perspective.

I am convinced that the average Ugandan knows more about American politics than the average American. It was ultimate patriotic humility when I was explained to, by my Ugandan Host Father, the nuances of the electoral colleges. The point being that America is in the focus of the world. From my first hand interactions here, to listening to American headlines on BBC Africa every morning, to the world holding its breath as the US economy goes through the crunch. Of course the present is amplified by the election hype, but I would say for very good reason.

Let me first say that my knowledge in economics is negatively reflected in my GPA. Take this layman's point-of-view for what it is.

The current economic strife is at least partially a result of our dependence on non-renewable energy. An industry which has made a handful of rich Americans very powerful (and a few powerful Americans very rich) is currently making the masses of Americans grip their wallets to the point where it is smothering the economy. Not to take obivious heat away from other industries, say the financial market, which has seen better days.

Our America was built on strong coorporations who had the warrant to operate in a free market and the coorporate responsibility to pull the country through tough times. A system which functions exceptionally well as long as the later part of the deal is upheld. The ability to break our dependence on oil, even to exemplify 'green' standards to the world, is all but the first step away.

It takes a government which is willing to stand up to the mega conglomerates and offer real incentives for developing and practicing alternative energy. I believe with a blatant understanding of the problem, a diversion from vested interests and legitimate incentives offered to corporations, on down to every citizen, Americans will once again demonstrate the innovation and working ethic that made the country what it is today: The focus of the World.

Government involvement in the Free Market is admittedly a fundamental difference between Democrats and Republicans. Changing someones opinion of their favorite color is a stretch, but making people realize that certain entities are taking advantage of the current landscape is within reason. We just experienced eight years of the corporate buddy system and I can't say I'm pleased with the results.

As powerful or as weak as it may be, I hope my absentee ballot makes it the long swim across the Atlantic. Please use your voice as well.

Yesterday was a downpour. Morning rain on the tin roofs is the most peaceful way to wake up in Uganda. I lay in bed half asleep to the white noise, until the thought of coffee gets me out of the mosquito net. My water supply is rain water. Usually I walk down to my neighbor’s rain tank and fill up my two 25 litre jerry cans. Because this was Saturday and I was not rushing off to work, I set out my laundry basins and harvested my own rain water.

In Uganda, the climate crunch is most obvious in the sporadic rain seasons. In the past, the rains were pretty predictable, occurring twice a year. Since I have been here, there hasn’t seemed to be any rhythm to the rain or shine. I think because of this, water can become a bit of a commodity during dry spells.

Of course, I was taken by surprise as I emptied the last bit of my water into a bucket for bathing and went to find a refill next door, only to be told the rain tank had turned into a private ration for the house residents. I was sent wandering around in my wife-beater from house to house searching for something which, I only came to realize, was a lost cause. It’s not as if I would be without water – there is a constant supply from the bore hole some 3 kilometers away. This is tapped by boys hauling around jerry cans with bicycles and bungee cords. The only problem here is that I always miss the boys because I am at work during the day. Luckily, I finally figured out the system and can trust my neighbors with my jerry cans and 800 shillings (50 cents). Living here is a constant adjustment. Of course there are great days and terrible days, but my overall level of comfort improves as I get more settled in at my house. Yeah, I have been here now for 6 months (in Wakiso), but there are constant distractions that pull me away from home. This month, I have spent one out of the last three weeks at home. First it was a week long Peace Corps training in Kampala, and then it was another week of football coach training - also in Kampala.

I have to say the coach training was incredible. It was an event sponsored by the British Council and Barclay’s Premier League in England. The head coach was Warren Barton who played for Newcastle, Wimbledon and the England National Team. Coach Barton was assisted by three other football big shots from Everton, Reading and West Ham. The course taught basic coaching skills and techniques, as well as using sport for development. After spending half the month away, it was like I had lost substantial ground in Wakiso. It is tiring, explaining to everyone where you have been for the last two weeks… “Niko, as you are lost.” My default response has been, “I am always lost,” which gets the kind of confusion I have come to enjoy. I’m going to try out a new one next time. In Luganda, “Nzunno.” Here I am. Anyhow, silly annoyances are renewed or mitigated based on my attitude and understanding. And my disposition is entirely up to my comfort of calling this home. I feel that I have neglected my own house and the process of getting settled in. I went on a cleaning spree yesterday and made a mental list of things that will make this place even more enjoyable.

Sport for Development and Peace. The movement is documented in a bottomless well of information and reports spilled out by the United Nations Inter-Agency Task Force on Sport for Development and Peace, the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation, Right to Play, the Sport for Development and Peace International Working Group (SPD IWG) and so many others. The current object of my affection is the SDP IWG's Harnessing the Power of Sport for Development and Peace: Recommendations to Governments, released to coincide with the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games. One of the many PDF files I read before going to sleep – just dream about the possibilities. I went to the Peace Corps Office in Kampala today, to discuss with my program director my work plan. (Since my updates have been far and in-between, I should mention that while my work efforts have not been fruitless, they have also not produced much to actually look at. Though briefly discouraged, I'm now gathering that enormous second wind; with something to blow around.) At the time of discussion, my work plan was a jambalaya of successful case studies and research results regurgitated from the many pages of 'sport for development' I had been reading all day. Though it did not manifest itself in words, the meeting made me realize how close I am to the project idea. After leaving the meeting, I went on to the Volunteer Lounge and took in as much free internet as I could stand, feeding my addiction with coachingforhope.org and grassrootssoccer.org. The Peace Corps Office is in a really nice part of Kampala called Kisementi. Just down the road are a few bar/restaurants that remind me of home...and have Heinz Ketchup. Just Kicking might be my favorite watering hole. A great sports bar, but also has wireless internet. From here, I tried to sit down and put my brain to a solid project idea. All the elements were floating around; they had just not yet connected. Just as I'm about to get some work done, I get a phone call. It was the Wakiso District Education Officer. My boss's boss. She called to tell me that the United States Ambassador to Uganda was coming for a visit this Thursday. She says that he has made a specific program to see me and check on my work. Really? Surely this was an exaggeration of the truth, so I called the Peace Corps Country Director to see if she knew anything about this surprise visit. I think she had only received the news as recently as me, but was able to clarify. The Ambassador is coming to Wakiso, and is expecting a presentation of my work. His main agenda, though, is to drop in on the new Peace Corps Training Group of 26 and I just happen to be the nearest volunteer to the training site. Not only the Ambassador, but the Peace Corps Country Director for Uganda and the Chairman LC5 (President of the District), are all expecting a presentation of my work on Thursday. The day after tomorrow! Just like college, I am not productive without a challenge. What's difficult about 25 pages about medieval religion if it's not done the night before? What's difficult about a simple work report and plan unless you are reporting to the three most important people in the country, aside from the honorable President Yoweri Museveni, may god bless his wise and gracious mind. *** Most of the following is 'house-keeping,' feel free to stop reading here. *** So, I spent the evening putting the game plan together. All I can say is that it's come together well! And just as eager as I am to present it to the 'delegation', I know you are eager to read it…so here is the plan. Not THE plan, an interim plan for you to read the plan: I'm going to start a professional blog… I know what you're thinking: I can't manage one blog. One entry every two months is hardly journaling, but I promise to get better. I now have a laptop. It's much more entertaining than reading outdated Newsweek's, and it makes writing much easier. The idea is to have a log of the work I am doing here for future reference, as well as to have a profession log of projects and successes to present to potential donors (mom and dad). The site will have little more than a project overview with entries that correspond to my official work reports. Soon, I'll be revealing the new blog site address.I look forward to telling you about Thursday's Meeting. Although this is the type of thing that is subject to rescheduling and/or cancellation, at least it was motivation to put together my thoughts. Wish me luck!

I traveled to Mitiyana today. It is a town about 1.5 hours outside of Kampala. Geographically closer to my site in Wakiso, but the public transport does not connect. We are meeting here for our three month, In-Service Language Training. Three months at site means five months in Uganda. It's a funny thing to gauge the time I have spent in Peace Corps. While the time I spent training in Luweero seems like an eternity ago, five months since I left home seems like a flash.

Hoping on the taxi, almost a daily routine, and traveling outside the city had a different taste today. About twenty minutes into the ride I looked up from my book to a fantastic site...Uganda. The sprawled out 'trading center' between my town and the capital has had a grip on the reality of where I am. The trees, flowers, birds, hills, marshes have all been within a skip of my house, but my eternal quest to pin down 'work' has had me preoccupied. This country is beautiful! Now that I have hit my three month maturity, I am leagally able(by Peace Corps) to travel away from site.

Although I really like my home, my neighbors and my comfort, it is nice to spend the week away from site. Some how bittersweetened by the language training to be endured, a not so welcome reminiscence from Pre-Service training, but at least a reminder of my access to this African country that I am calling home.

SPAD Faculty and Students:

In August of 2006 I graduated from the Sport Administration Program at the University of Louisville. In November, I applied to Peace Corps. Volunteer service seemed like the perfect remedy for my curiosity about the world and my disinterest in joining the ‘work force’. For me, the notoriously long application process lasted fifteen months (over half the duration of Peace Corps 27 month service). In this downtime, I found short-term employment substitute teaching, in construction work and on a fishing boat in Alaska. Upon returning home, I had an invitation to serve in Uganda. In February 2008 my knowledge gained in Sport Administration would be tested against Rural Water Sanitation in East Africa.

Arriving in-country, our group of 60 new volunteers began the three month training in our respective sectors: Economic Development, Health and Education. In addition to technical training, we would also undergo local language training and cultural immersion. On the first day of training, I was called in by the Peace Corps Country Director to discuss a change in my program. Water sanitation was not meant to be.

Uganda’s Ministry of Education and Sport had identified a need for ‘sports development.’ The Ministry requested one person from our training group to serve in sports at the District Level (there are about 80 administrative districts in a country the size of Oregon). My degree in Sport Administration led me to be selected as the Wakiso District Sports Officer.

I am now approaching three months into my experience as District Sports Officer. I have found myself in a position demanding a decade of work experience by Western standards. I work for the Education Office of the Local Government. All sports and games within the communities and schools fall under my responsibility. With the help of various administrative bodies, I do facility management, finance, talent development/ identification and event planning/ management.

Though many school sport’s programs, especially urban, are well organized, there are still many challenges. Most schools are under funded and have poor or no facilities for use. Rural youth talent can easily go unnoticed, especially when children cannot afford school and have no outlet for participation. There is a high demand for qualified coaches and coach’s training. Having played a sport is usually the only criteria for coaching.

Community sports are in even greater need. Football is dominant, but most fields are in terrible condition with no goals. Good balls are very hard to come by. Even ‘established’ senior teams lack structured training. Despite these setbacks, Ugandans are passionate about football. The scarce resources have led to some interesting variations of the game; on a hillside with a ball made of plastic bags stuffed together.

Female participation is limited to schools, and even there, the option can be limited to netball. As with most development work, one element of sustainability lies with women’s participation and interest. However cultural norms prevent girls from showing up to the pitch. Most notably, Uganda women work very hard. Finding time for games is very difficult as they often double the workload of their male counterparts. But given the talent of these women to juggle children, livestock, gardens and their housework, juggling a football would be second nature.

From the SPAD faculty, I was hoping to find referral to contacts within ‘sports development’, especially related to women’s participation. I could really use the advice of people who have faced similar situations. During my time in school, I remember a lecture from a woman who advocated girl’s sports in the Middle East. Such a contact could be a very useful resource.

To both faculty and students in SPAD, I would like to open myself up to correspondence. Though I am in the ‘developing’ world, I have a cell phone and regular internet access. I would be happy to go into further detail, answer any question, or perhaps, implement any ideas you might have. I would cherish some fresh input. For instance, I am seeking ways to advocate HIV prevention within the existing systems.

I look forward to any possible interaction. Best of luck in the pursuit of education.

Warm Regards,

Nicholas Tenorio

SPAD Alum 06’

Wakiso District Sports Officer

I know I am really falling behind on my posts. I occasionally sit down at the internet cafe and try to put something down, then email or espn.com will steal my focus. I think I will be getting a laptop soon. At that point I should have several posts a month.

Uganda got its first taste of Wagon Wheel last week. There is an open mic/jam session at the National Theater in Kampala every Monday night. I have been there a few times now and each time the place has been packed. There is a house band which usually consists of drums, bass, electric guitar, key board and a full brass section. It is open for anyone to step up and play, sing, rap, dance, you name it. It's so much fun to play with a full band, and the crowd is excited just to see what the 'muzungu' has to do.

There's loads of local music here, mostly afro-reggae with more and more hip hop. Of course Western hip hop is really popular too. It can be funny to listen to the Western music radio stations. Next to R. Kelly will be Celine Dion, followed by Don Williams (70's country). I have to admit, I get the biggest kick when the car is hushed by the driver to turn up and sing, word for word, a 70's country song I have never heard. Anyhow, Wagon Wheel seemed to be a hit.

I got a roommate! 'Bala' is a paint spill of a Calico kitten. I got her from the animal shelter in Kampala when she was 4 months old. Her name means 'stain/spot' in Luganda. There is another Peace Corp girl who lives near me who commissioned the local vet to have her cat fixed. For the low price of 30,000/=, the cat was fixed on her kitchen floor as Brett held the cat's legs apart. Mrs. Bala Kitty holds the same fate next month!

In a previous post, I mentioned an American-run orphanage that is near my house. It is called Rafiki Foundation and they operate in 10 African countries. On Saturday, one of the American families invited me over for a minivacation. Pizza, internet, laundry, a hot bath, 'The Incredibles' on a big screen projector, a queen sized bed to sleep in and French toast with bacon in the morning. The life of luxury! I feel fresh out of the suburbs, juiced up to take on the next two months in the village.

I tried created an online picture album today. The address is http://picasaweb.google.com/PeaceCorpsUganda.

I think I can tie it directly to this blog somehow...I will work on it.

I am getting a kitten tomorrow. A friend from Norway is taking me to the animal shelter in Kampala. I have a notable problem in my house with roaches and lizards. I think a kitten would enjoy fixing this for me. I am trying to decide what to name it though. Kappa is Luganda for cat and I also like Jehricho. Any comments, suggestions. I will put a picture up, mabey that will help.

As it is pulling together, I thought I could better explain my job here in Uganda. As best as I could describe it, the title of District Sport Officer is the administrator for all sport and game activities within the district. As you might imagine, that is an overwhelming amount of work, but many of the duties are passed down to smaller administrative committees/associations. There are committees for primary schools and secondary schools, as well as associations for specific sports: Football, Netball, Athletics (Track and Field), etc. All of these bodies work together to hold competitions and tournaments at the zone, then district, then national level.

(I thought I should interject... There is a marching band going through the streets of Kampala right now. Going strong, right next to the ubiquitous bumper to bumper traffic. Not really sure why.)

I have identified five umbrella responsibilities, under which all other duties fall:

Liaising between athletes, teams and administrative bodies from the district to the national level;sport facility improvement and development;seeking out and developing athletic talent within the communities and the schools;monitoring and improving the work of administrators, coaches and officials;facilitating teams and athletes to perform at their best.By most Western standards I lack about 10 years experience for such a position. I am very fortunate to have been given such an opportunity. As time goes on, I will post more specific tasks that I will be working on.

Just today I met an American who runs an orphanage five kilometers from my home. They have better facilities than most Ugandan schools, but have yet to develop much of a competitive sport program. There is a secondary school called St. Michael's International which has only been in operation for 3 months. They have about 400 students, but only make-shift teams for football and netball. The 'game master' told me today he wants to add a program for athletics and volleyball. These are only two schools out of about 500. I certainly have my hands full.

I got a PO Box about two weeks ago, but I just remembered to post it here as promised...

Nicholas Tenorio

PO BOX 97

Wakiso - Central

Wakiso District

Uganda, AFRICA

I would really love to receive mail from anyone. Even if it is only a post card saying hello (which would probably cost at least $2.00). Also I have a cell phone here and, of course email. I have a cell phone here, if you want to attempt international calling you can email me for my number. nick.tenorio@yahoo.com.

Sorry for the lapse in posting, I have had so much to write about I had temporary writers block. Anyhow, my job is coming together. I divorced my counterpart who was assigned to me and adopted a new one who I met yesterday. I also realized that my supervisor is more just the guy I say 'hi' to in the mornings and who takes me out and pays for my drinks. It's a good arrangement.

Yesterday was incredibly productive. I met a big whig in the scope of Uganda Sports; the Administrative Secretary of the National Council of Sport. I introduced myself, then he gave me that inquisitive stare followed by, "who said you could be Sport Officer of Wakiso District?" I proceeded to explain my duty with Peace Corps and the Ministry of Education's specific request for someone in Sport Development. On Peace Corps Day 1, I would have been in disbelief by this misunderstanding. Now, I am hardly surprised by the tin can communication.

After clearing that issue up, the man was helpful enough to give me some good resources. My official job description, 'A Guide To District Sports Officer.' I have no idea why I didn't receive that on day one. For the last three weeks I had been trying to find a starting point. However, I definatly don't want to sound like I am complaining. I was even told to expect a slow start. Things are really going to pick up, especially when the next school term starts later this month. The down time has allowed me to get settled into my house and the lack of guidance at work has allowed me to identify the needs from the ground up. A better approach anyhow. I think the ball is beginning to roll and will continue right through my April 2010 deadline.

It's not quite the thached roof, mud hut I was expecting, but it will do. I have electricity, but no running water. This means pit latrines and bucket baths. If your feeling adventurous one mourning, fill up a pail with cold water and try bathing with a bar of soap and a cup.

My neighbors are wonderful! Directly to the left of my house, there is a building which contains three apartments. There is one older lady who only speaks Luganda, a married couple with no children, and a single mother. They are so friendly and helpful. In addition to them, there is a group of 'regular' children whose relationships are unconfirmed. But they are outside every mourning and are slowly learning that my name is Nicholas, not 'muzungu'.

This mourning I officially became a Peace Corps Volunteer in Uganda. We had a beautiful swearing in ceremony at the Ambassador's house. Like Rome, Kampala was built on seven hills. Generally, the slums are at the bottom of the hills and the money is at the top. From the deck of the Ambassador's swimming pool is the most breathtaking view of Kampala. I think I will begin studying for the Foreign Service Exam this evening.

Exactly two years are directly ahead of me. It is an intimidating thought, but the endless possibilities of my work have me excited for each of the 730 days. Tomorrow I will begin to get settled into my house and used to my new community. I am getting very used to the culture and pace of Uganda.

Training is OVER! This afternoon we sat through the last agonizing session of Pre-Service Training (PST). We learned how to ask our supervisors for more work; we were told for the 9000th time that we can't ride boda bodas (motorcycles); and we had two tea breaks. Those proceedings were spread out over eight hours. The only way I was able to make it through the two months of PST can be credited to the Red Pepper Daily. In the last two months an Irish man gave birth, a girl was born with two faces, and President Museveni investigated the possibility of the world ending in 2012. The crossword puzzles are good too.

Training has had its good moments though. Earlier this week we visited the US Embassy in Kampala. For the three hours we were inside the steel gaits, I nearly forgot I was in Africa. I drank as many cone shaped cups of water possible to maximize my tax dollar's worth of flush toilets and hot water from a faucet. There was a sign next to the ash tray that read 'no smoking inside, put 'EM here.' I think George W. got that one on special order from Texas. The only thing that brought me back to Africa was when I sat down in the resource room to use the Internet. I intended to write this blog from the Embassy and their American Internet, but officially confirmed that high speed Internet does not exist in Uganda.

The redeeming factor for the Internet though was the black, filtered coffee. For those who are not keen on African economics, Uganda's top export is coffee. Not the coffee you grind up and brew for a hot, caffeinated beverage, but the coffee you sell to Western countries for 9% of your GDP. In Uganda, ordering coffee means receiving hot water and brown powder in a suspect plastic bag which is produced from soy. By no stretch of the imagination does it taste like the "drip" coffee of my dreams. Best investment, french press and overpriced coffee from the two coffee shops in Kampala. I drank three cups at the embassy.

My greatest fear of being in a 'developing' county during March was missing the College Basketball Madness. I knew certain sacrifices were inevitable...but this one was particularly hard to swallow. Louisville's depth, experience, under-the-radar superstars, regular season adversities and David Padgett are all the ingredients of a Rick Pitino Final Four Cocktail. Similar to the Mike Krzyzewski version, but without the hangover and feeling of being used.

As a substitute for the deprivation, I did what any run of the mill Louisville fan would do. I not-so-randomly selected 65 teams out of a hat and divided them among four regions (Jinja, Katikamu, Kampala and Midwest Kampala) and 16 seeds per region. Coincidentally Louisville was a no. 3 seed playing a mid-major football powerhouse. Each team was then assigned a village child along with its respective mascot costume made only from locally available materials. The children were given their seed numbers based on size and age. The most enthusiastic were given legendary names like NC State, Creighton and George Mason.

Using only banana fibers, we transformed the local soccer pitch into an uncanny representation of Freedom Hall. The play-in mascot were given their munition of school spirited Matooke and Avocado. Points would be rewarded for accuracy and style. Removing the opposing mascot's over-sized head would be the equivalent of draining a three with 5.4 seconds remaining, to win the game.

The play-in teams, South Mississippi Bible College and University of North Dakota-Fargo, were just set to duke it out (no pun intended), when I received and urgent text message. It was my fellow Kentuckian, Chad. The Bukenya Foundation Hotel was receiving the satellite feed of Marquette against Kentucky on ESPN. I bid an instant farewell to the bundle of mini-mascots and zipped down to Bukenya. There, I sat among my Peace Corps Colleagues and enjoyed March Madness and a cold Nile Special. The basketball action and constant score updates were amazing. Later in the week, the highlights of a 30-point Cardinal win over the Sooners topped even the flush, sit down toilette in the adjacent room. Life in Uganda is rough sometimes, but it is little things like this that keep you going. Although, the room could have been air conditioned.

Generally speaking, the threats of Africa are invisible. Coming to Uganda as an ignorant Kentuckian, the threats I imagined usually had large teeth or were difficult to out run. Things like lions, black mambas, gorillas, guerrillas, or collapsing pit latrines. The reality is much different. You have to go on safaris to find most of these things or be the one person in Peace Corps history to fall into his pit latrine.

I'm going to get sick. Not to be dramatic, but it is the sad, statistical fact. If it is not some terrible stomach virus or food poisoning, than it will be some nasty little insect who chooses me as their lucky host. Mango Flies, Scabies, Nairobi Eye, etc. I am pulling for Mango Flies.

The process goes like this: You hand wash your clothes and then hang them out to dry on the clothes line. If it is 'mango fly season' the insect will buzz past and lay its eggs on your damp clothing. Then, as you wear your clothes and perspire, the infant larva sneak under your skin. The larva then snuggle up and make a nice warm home for the next three weeks as they grow exponentially. Meanwhile you are left wondering what the golf ball sized lump is on your rear end.

This process can all be avoided if you iron your Scooby Doo boxers (killing the eggs) before wearing them. However, ironing has many implications.

There is not an clothes iron in Uganda that was made post-colonialism. The standard contraption is a hollow steel box in which you dump glowing charcoal. This effectively burns more tiny holes in your clothes than it takes out wrinkles.

The thing about Ugandans is indirect communication. Most would ask you if a goat has been chewing on your clothes before they would tell you to iron your shirt. This entertaining and I would not deny myself this topic of conversation.

The Peace Corps Medical Officer explained the personal satisfaction of popping a ripe mango larva from beneath your skin. Visit YouTube for a demonstration.

Hand washing my clothes already consumes more time then I spend sweating in them. Before I would spend anymore time doing laundry, I think I would move to Ateso land a strut around naked with the Karimajong.

Wednesday I found out that I will be working for the Wakiso District Council Sports Office. I met with the Deputy Sports Officer yesterday and am thrilled with the work I will be involved in. Wakiso is the leading district of Uganda in Academics and Athletics. It is also directly next to the capital city of Kampala. On March 26-29, I will be visiting my future work place and home. Musa, the Deputy Officer, briefly told me about some of the work done by the Office.

They supervise the schools in the district to ensure that the physical education curriculum is being implemented; they organize physical education seminars for principals and teachers; and they administer all the district teams (football, volleyball, netball, basketball, etc.) in Wakiso. I feel very fortunate for my placement and can not wait to begin my work on April 11th.

Last week I was walking home after a really rough day of training. I was feeling a little out of place and home sick. I had not heard anything about my placement in the "sport" sector since they first told me about it in February. Needless to say the Primary Education training which I was placed in seemed less than relavent. Many other people in the training group had been moved around and misinformed, so I wasn't sure if the position, which seemed too good to be true, actually existed. On the way home, I looked up and made eye contact with a nicely dressed man who had a particular smile on his face. He was sure to hold my attention and when I finally reached him, he wanted to shake my hand and insisted that I take his blue, bic, ink pen. My mood was immediately transformed. I had a sharp reminder that everything would work out for the best. That also happened to be the only day I made it all the way home with out being called 'muzungu'.

Despite a long, delayed flight, I made it to Uganda. I have been here for about three weeks. In that time I have been trying to take as much in without overloading. It is beautiful here and everyone is so friendly. I am learning Luganda and that really helps to let the people warm up to you. We spend 6 days a week in training which can be very long and exhausting. It is not hard to be optimistic about my future placement though.

I came to Uganda as a water sanitation volunteer, but have been placed in another program. I will know all the details on Wednesday, but up to now I have been training with the education group. I was told that a single position has been created for someone to work with the Uganda Ministry of Education and Sport. The job is directly related to sport and I think I will either be working directly for the Ministry or at the district level. I am highly anticipating the details and will post as soon as I have the chance.

Training is over in about five weeks and I will be at my future home of two years. At that location I will hopefully have more regular Internet access. I will continue to update this blog as often as I can. I miss everyone at home and wish everyone the best!

Two months and I will be in Uganda. This reality has certainly not set in. I began the application one year ago, and in two months I will be further from home than I have any concept of. This will begin my Peace Corps service as an Economic Development Volunteer. More specifically I will be working on water quality improvement. And yes, I am a leading expert in my field. At this point, this is all the information I have. Wish me luck.

to be continued...