A time of everything

December 13, 2011

“There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—

A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.

A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.

A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.

A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.

A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.”

For our family, a time for our worst fears and most magical dreams to come true, all at the same time.

On November 19^th, our daughter, Daniela Alona de Galbert was born. On November 20^th, my father (Aba in Hebrew, or Abush as we called him), Guy Alon, passed away after four years of living with cancer. This post, to the best of my ability, is an effort to celebrate both of their lives.

Pierre and I reached Needham at the beginning of October. I was 7.5 months pregnant and our to-do list of getting ready for the baby was long and overwhelming. My dad was thrilled that his transplant was delayed by a few days so he was home when we reached. The few days at home all together were busy, but we got a few nice moments. Anna, my good friend from Ottawa, was also visiting, so we went with my dad to the Elm Bank Reservation, a park not far from Needham and one of his favorite spots for taking pictures of flowers. We walked around and enjoyed the fall day. We got some nice pictures, and my dad just could not get over the size of my stomach. At home, Pierre made mafe beouf for all of us, one of our favorite dishes, and we had a nice family meal together. One of the evenings, my dad wanted to feel the baby move, and when she kicked him, he lifted his hand so high and laughed that she kicked him really hard. After a few days, he packed his bags for the hospital, excited that he finally made it to the donor transplant, the procedure that he fully believed would return him to health.

The first few weeks were normal, or felt normal since Abush was so good at making all of us feel that his illness was not that serious. Guy had made an art out of making the most of his hospital stays. Armed with his laptop and blackberry, he continued to work from the hospital, even when not feeling his best. Pierre, my grandmother, my mom and I visited him almost every day, to talk, watch TV, pass the time quietly but together. When the chemo hit and he lost his appetite, Abush or my mom would order macaroni and cheese for me to satisfy some late pregnancy cravings. Meanwhile, our baby girl continued to grow and grow, and we were just getting so excited to meet her.

By the end of October it became clear that the transplant had some very serious complications. My dad started to be sleepy most of the time, and sometimes not making sense. It took some days before we met all the doctors and understood the severity of the situation; complications from the transplant had damaged his liver and kidneys. Doctors started him on the only medicine that could have helped and we entered the waiting period. Waiting while someone you love is sick is probably the hardest task. Every day was an emotional roller coaster. A blood test would indicate a small improvement, which felt like a huge leap forward, only to be set back hours later by another test, or another complication. As long as there was hope, we all believed that if anyone can come out of this, it is Guy with his strength and optimism. Abush was so certain always that he can recover that we could not consider any other possibility. We took the ups and downs and just waited for our little miracle, while painfully watching our beloved and energetic Guy less and less alert and unable to communicate with us. The last thing he said to me, with great effort, was “how are you feeling?” Even in this difficult time for him, he still wanted to care for all of us, like he always had. The nurses started joking that our baby girl will be born on the transplant floor, and each day they would all welcome me by asking “you’re still here?” As Guy’s condition worsened, he was unable to breathe on his own and with a breathing tube he was moved to the intensive care unit. We struggled in the intensive care unit, not knowing what Guy wanted, trying to hold on to hope, and suffering at the sight of all the medical interventions. We met some nice families in the waiting room where we spent hours and hours between visits with Abush. We connected to these families like “ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.” We always hoped that when we stopped seeing a family, their loved one has gotten better, and we hoped soon they would not see us. As our baby girl moved inside me, I found it amazing that our bodies just knows how to create life, that the process is so miraculous and natural, and yet fixing life, once something is broken, is a painful process, a struggle. All that we are, our potential, our love, and our dreams depend on this delicate balance of bodily processes that we take so often for granted but are really daily miracles.  

Each day before leaving the hospital, I whispered to Abush that if he does not see me for a few days it is because I went to give birth to his granddaughter but that I was always thinking of him. On November 18^th, exactly on her due date, a time-keeper like her great-grandfather and grandfather, our daughter started the long birth process. The labor was long, very long, and one of the hardest experiences both Pierre and I have ever gone through together, but with the support of amazing midwives and nurses, and Pierre as my rock, we got through it. One of the midwives had told me that you have to take labor one contraction at a time, and so I tried to think of my dad, his optimism, and taking life one small challenge at a time. I tried to picture breathing in love and out fear, and remembered a poem that my mother found for my dad and that I read to him everyday while in the hospital.

“When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don't quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out,
Dont' give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.”

Then, in one magical moment, life changed completely, and after so many months of waiting and hours of hard work, there she was, Daniela Alona de Galbert, on my chest, a real little person that Pierre and I created, and I loved her instantly. All of a sudden I understood the love that a parent feels for their child, was able to comprehend the love that my father has for me, and I felt so blessed. My mom, or Savta Shoshi (grandmother shoshi), my aunt Iris, and my sisters, Neta and Lior, came to see Daniela and she gave all of us so much joy. On November 20^th, my mom held the phone up to my dad’s ear and I told him he was a grandfather now and that Pierre and I will do our best being the best parents we can, like he has been to me. A few hours later, my Abush passed away, with Iris singing his favorite lullabies and my mother holding him, surrounded by love.

I like to believe that their spirits met as Daniela came into this world and Guy was on his way somewhere else that we don’t know. A South African woman once told me that babies are born with fists because they hold in their little hands gifts that they bring into this world. We all carry gifts from our ancestors, genes, histories, physical features, and spiritual connections. When I look at Daniela I hope that my dad gave her something as they crossed. I hope she got his genuine kindness. She is such a small person, and she needs our help for almost everything right now, and yet sometimes it feels that much like Guy, she carries our entire family on her shoulders, keeping us focused on life instead of death, on love, instead of loss. I tell Daniela that we are not sad because of her; I love you with all the pieces of my broken heart, I whisper in her ear. I hope that even in this difficult time we can give her enough love and happiness, and I think of this song by Leonard Cohen. “Ring the bells that still can ring; Forget your perfect offering; There is a crack in everything; That's how the light gets in.” My hope is that the cracks in our hearts only enable us to love her more, to appreciate more each day, to celebrate what we do have in honor of what we have lost. There is certainly some beauty in the timing, a reminder of the circle of life, but it is also very painful. I close my eyes and I picture Abush holding Daniela, or how much fun he would have had taking pictures of her little hands and feet, and it breaks my heart that he got so close, that he fought so hard, and it is unfair, cruel really, that we could not enjoy this special time with him.

We came home for the hospital on a Monday, the funeral was Tuesday, and we began a week of Shiva, a Jewish tradition of accepting visitors at home during a mourning period of 7 days. Our Shiva, much like the funeral, was our own version. Friends brought food and pictures and videos of Guy that made us laugh and cry. Lior made a beautiful book with pictures of Abush. We felt overwhelmed at times by the love and support, and mostly by how much everyone loved Guy. He really was such a remarkably good person, not in any grandiose way, but he had a simple kindness and a goodness that everyone who knew him adored; I think he always made people feel like they mattered to him.

At the funeral, I shared that every person who has had the honor to cross paths with Guy knows how kind, loyal, ethical, and big-hearted he was. It is truly amazing, how in the last few weeks of his illness, every person that we talked to, from work colleagues, the secretary handling our heating bills, travel agents, doctors, nurses, and of course his friends, all say how wonderful and caring he had been to them. Indeed he was an inspirational friend, colleague, brother, son, and person. And yet, I feel privileged and lucky because I believe I always got to see Guy in the two roles he did best – a husband and a father. Abush’s relationship with my mother will always be the definition of love in my heart. When we were children we used to complain about the two kissing all the time. As an adult, and now that I have found my own love with Pierre, I see their dedication to each other and sincere joy at sharing their lives as a model of love that inspires me each day. To us girls, he was the best father in the world, and although Neta, Lior, and I are all so different, he found ways to be there for each of us in a special way. In all my travels and adventures, I have always felt safe and confident because I knew he was watching over me from afar, always ready to change a ticket, call an airline, fill out an application, or do whatever it took so that I could see the world, and try to find my place within it. I hope that now, even though he is not physically with us, that he will continue to watch over me and my sisters and that we continue to make him proud. 

Now, with this beautiful autumn weather that is uncommon as we go into December, I think of Abush each time, Pierre, Daniela, and I take a walk, and I think of how much he would enjoy these nice days. It feels impossible that the world outside is the same, life continues, when our world has been turned upside down in so many ways. Guy was so optimistic, truly so, that he did not even consider the possibility of anything but a complete recovery. He swept us with his courage and we all believed with him. Now, that he had passed away, it seems impossible; sometimes, I feel like he is still in the hospital, that maybe we can go visit him. It is hard now, but I feel thankful that his certainty that he will be healthy again meant that he really lived during his 4 years of battling cancer, and in many ways those were the best years of our lives. We enjoyed those moments with a joy that buds from the realization of how fragile life can be but protected with Guy’s optimism, without the fear that they might be our last. I feel that Guy would want all of us to continue his sense of optimism, and remember that even though optimism sometimes may not change a life’s course, the lesson from his life, and especially the past 4 years, is that optimism gives life meaning and allows us to live with hope and love instead of fear.

People say that time will heal, but I am not sure. I think that from now on every moment in life, including the happiest and magical moments we are already experiencing with Daniela, will have a pang of sadness that we cannot share with our beloved Abush. My hope is that time will teach us to accept both the sadness and the joy with more grace so that they dance instead of clash in our hearts.

Many of you have sent messages, kind words, gifts, and your love and support to my family and I and I want to thank you with all my heart for your friendship in this special time in our lives. Having a small baby means I am not as good at responding to e mails but please know that your love and support have meant a lot to me. Some of you have asked how to send messages for my dad’s memorial book and how we plan to honor his life. For information on these please see the last blog post we put on Guy’s blog: guyalon.blogspot.com

Thank you for being in my life

Inbal

Daniela Alona

At Elm Bank, a few days before the transplant

As we will always remember him, always smiling, always optimistic

 

 

 

 

 

September 23, 2011

I cannot believe it has been over a year since I last wrote an update. Every story has sections that are slower pace, long paragraphs of descriptions and inner thoughts and struggles that we sometimes skim over as we try to get to the action. Perhaps as life has settled into more of a routine, I’ve skipped in writing those paragraphs. 

Overall, we’ve been well in the past 12 months. In July, we finished our year of many trips with a final trip to Switzerland for a beautiful wedding. Back in Uganda, we were excited about having some time ahead of us without trips and to get back to our life. Project number one was the addition of chickens to our family. Our very nice landlord built a chicken coop in the back, and Agnes, our neighbor, provided two baby chickens, which we names Koko and Rolex. Nkoko is Luganda for chicken and Rolex is the name of a snack that has a fried egg wrapped in a chapatti. Koko disappeared after a few weeks, and there are still theories about her fate. Rolex turned out to be male. We kept him for a while, until he matured and started waking us up at 5 in the morning. We gave him back to Agnes, and he lasted a few happy days before becoming dinner. I brought a new hen from Fort Portal and Pia brought one from Lira and now we had Kay and Clementine who on a good week lay as many as 10 delicious eggs and we have been enjoying food from our little farm. Clementine was recently replaced by Omelet, a new young chicken. I received a gift from a farmers group and for a while we had 3 chickens, a real farm! Our tomatoes growing did not go as well; we blame it on the pots, but we do have very nice basil, lemongrass, and rosemary in our little garden.  

In January, Pia brought her 11-years old daughter Roweena to live with her and us, and it has been wonderful having her around. Pierre is her very dedicated math teacher and I occasionally help with English homework. Roweena also loves to read and so far her favorites are the Big Friendly Giant and the Clementine series. She is lovely and a bit shy and always has a beautiful smile on her face when she comes home from school. Pia is doing well at hair-dressing school and always coming home with new techniques she wants to try on everyone’s hair. Pierre and I are not the most willing of clients, but we’re proud of her efforts and progress. Sadly, Carol, my favorite child in our neighborhood, has moved away. It is quite common here for children move a lot, often staying with relatives who can take care of them or moving from village to city based on financial considerations. Carol moved back to her village with her mom and siblings. She came one afternoon to say goodbye and it was hard. I gave her a poster I found at home to decorate her new home. I wish I could have given her more for all the moments of joy she added to my days. I still look for her around the corner when coming home. Recently, after many phone calls I was able to track her down, and she came for a short visit, which was very sweet. 

Work has continued well as well. There are always ups and downs, successes and failures, progress and delays, but overall the team and I have gotten used to working together and have our systems and routines. We work with some wonderful partner organizations and it has been inspiring to see the impact some of them make in the community. One of my favorite events was the child rights storytelling competitions. We asked children to tell their stories related to child rights and child abuse and neglect. Each school chose the best stories and then we had an interschool competition. I attended one of these and was touched as brave children and youth told us stories about hardships in their lives and also the knowledge, skills, and people who have helped them. Daphine, a young lady with a beautiful smile, told us about finding her father who had left the family when she was young. She found him after her mother died and convinced him that he has a responsibility to support her. Joseph, a young boy, so short and thin he would be easy to miss but for his confidence and courage, told us about helping his classmate report a case of sexual abuse. Susan, told us through her tears, about the time her aunt tried to force her to have sex with an older man. Dick shared his experiences of discrimination as an orphan, and pleaded with everyone that all children should go to school. The children were inspiring and their stories moving. The winners of the competition went on to present their stories on radio and their photographs are on posters we use to promote awareness and to celebrate the child rights heroes in communities. 

Another interesting project has been working with caregivers of vulnerable children to help increase their household incomes. For a few years now, Bantwana has been supporting rural caregivers through agricultural income generating activities. Caregivers are trained on improved farming techniques and supported with seeds or livestock to generate income for their household needs. Some caregivers have managed to generate substantial income and improve their houses, send children back to school, and supply basic needs and clothing. Yet, often farmers, who are at the bottom of a long supply-chain, get low prices, either because they sell in a market that is already saturated with the same produce (especially during harvest season) or because they are at the bottom of a long supply-chain in which vendors, middle-men, and transporters take a larger share of the profit. To help farmers get more from their hard work, we decided to pilot a few initiatives to add value to produce. For one group that is growing maize, we supplied a maize miller which turns maize into maize flour. Another group installed solar driers to dry and package pineapples. A final group is working to turn their groundnuts into powder and paste used in cooking. The pilots are still ongoing, and we’ve learned along side our farmers, about the many logistical, business, and organizational challenges of operating in a competitive market, and the creative solutions that dedicated communities find to succeed. When I am in Fort Portal, and I see the dried pineapples from one of our partners sitting nicely on the shelf next to a packet of biscuits, I think of the many caregivers I have visited, from old grandmothers to struggling youth, and I wish the person next to me could see the stories hidden in that packet of dried pineapples. It is why I believe so strongly in fair trade, so that even when I do not have the privilege of knowing the stories living within every product we touch, I can hope that the people involved in making it can also make a living that is dignified.   

With the generous support from family and friends, we’ve continued to support the young girls in Kyegegwa district to attend secondary school. We’ve had some setbacks and disappointments. One of the girls dropped out of school because she is pregnant. The relationship was a choice she made and she felt that the man she met could take care of her. It is sad that at such a young age, some of these girls have so little confidence in themselves and what they can achieve in the future. Another girl dropped out of school for reasons that are a bit unclear; to our best understanding she got frustrated with school and had some negative peer influence. She had struggled academically and in the end perhaps she just gave up. It may seem simple to support girls to go to school, but in the end, it is not just fees and books that these girls need. There is so much social and emotional support, as well as personal commitment and confidence, that influences a child’s life in school, and for so many girls in Uganda, that comprehensive set of support is not a reality. Happily, the remaining three girls are doing well and progressing in school. We recently visited them and had some nice time together. We went to Kibale national forest and on our nature walk we even got to see some Chimpanzees. 

Summer was busy with many visits from friends and family from the US and France. It was lovely to have people to share our life with and a good reason to travel to many parts of Uganda we had not seen before. Being with visitors was like discovering Uganda again through new eyes, which was a wonderful gift. It was fun to remember all the things that used to surprise that are now part of every day life: the crazy motor-cycle taxis, the colorful markets, women carrying babies and heavy loads on their backs and heads, and various street foods. 

Now, we’re preparing for another transition, becoming parents, and in November, our little family of two will be family of three. We’ll be away from Uganda for a few months, but very much look forward to being back here with the new baby and discovering a whole new side of life in this place that has become another home. 

Thank you for being in my life

Inbal

Some pictures from work with Bantwana Initiative 

Caregiver and her grand-daughter

Maize mill at work

Eggplant field

Women at a village savings and credit group

Pineapples

Children at a community school

So Lucky

Dear Family and Friends,

I am so lucky. The past few months are hard to put into words; they have been so filled with love that the heart feels full and overflowing.

After months of planning, the time finally came to travel to France for Pierre’s and I’s wedding. It started to feel real when we met Pierre’s family in Paris and then my family arrived. We were all so happy to be together again. We travelled to La Buisse in the South of France for final preparations. By Thursday, many of our friends and family had arrived and the fun part started. It was so nice to see people again, to catch up, to share some stories, and just to be in the company of loved ones. We had so many special moments, from the little laughs while assembling wedding programs, to eating too much cheese, and the life of moments of seeing my dad read his thank you card, and wearing my mom’s wedding dress for the rehearsal dinner. On Saturday, after a very relaxed morning, we started to get ready. It was fun to have my sisters and my best friends with me, helping to keep me smiling during hair and makeup, and making me feel like a princess with their support. Before we knew it, the time had arrived. Walking down to the tent and chupa with my parents was very emotional, seeing all the faces of our friends and family and Pierre waiting for me in the front. There is something so special about so many friends and families gathering to celebrate our union. It is more than just seeing people again, it is a unique feeling of all the love and support we have in our life, combined, in one magical moment in time, and together it is more than the sums of its parts. We just felt so loved, and on a day that celebrates our love, we were so thankful for this magical feeling. I often feel gratitude for all the love I have in my life, but the wedding was more than that, it was a celebration of love and its complete acceptance. The ceremony was wonderful. I loved listening to our family and friends read the poems and prayers that mean so much to us, and to share that moment with Pierre. Our vows felt really special, to share with each other, in the presence of so many was really special. At the same time, despite sharing the wedding with everyone, parts of it felt very personal. There were moments when I looked into Pierre’s eyes and it was just the two of us. After the ceremony, we got a quiet moment at the house, and looked out and everyone having cocktails and getting ready for dinner, and we felt so lucky to have so many wonderful people in our life. The dinner and party were so much fun. It was really amazing to see our families and friends all meet each other and discuss issues and dance and sing together. We danced until 4 am, and eventually Pierre got thrown in the pool by his brothers. The best part, is that even with the wedding through, I still feel the luckiest person in the world, for being married to my best friend and all that we have ahead of us.

From France we went to Israel. We enjoyed a few days in Jerusalem, a nice trip to the dead sea, and seeing lots of family. We had another nice wedding celebration for my Israeli family who could not attend. My parents were amazing at planning it all on their own. The best part was dancing with my grandfather, who has been refusing to go on walks, but somehow managed to dance with half the girls in the family.

After a few short weeks in Uganda, Pierre and I traveled to South Africa for the World Cup. The atmosphere was great with people all over the world coming to support their teams and the love of the game. We went to a few games; I supported Ghana all the way, and had a few football disappointments along the way. We also got to take a trip to the Drakenberg Mountains, a beautiful area in South Africa. In the morning, with the sun light on the red mountains, a cool breeze, and a warm hug from Pierre, I just felt like the entire world is in my heart, like I have everything I need and I am everywhere I want to be. We also visited Lesotho for a few hours, a mountainous and beautiful country we hope to get back to some day.

Now, after another wonderful trip to Switzerland for Edouard’s and Anna’s wedding, we are back home and looking forward to returning to our life here.

Thank you for being in my life.

Inbal

Pictures from our wedding in France














Pictures from Israel














Pierre in the dead sea





Our one day in Lesotho


South Africa for the World Cup

At Nelson Mandela's home


Drakensberg Mountains


Football!!!

the experiences that build us

Hi Everyone,

Sometimes, in the morning, in that state of being between dream and reality, I am amazed that we are all made of skin, bones, and a lot of water. It seems unreal, a story made up by scientist, that we’re all made of the same stuff, and yet our experiences are so different. It feels much more plausible that we are made of our experiences; lungs from the moments that take our breath away, eyes from the images we can’t forget, ears from music. That somehow these experiences form us, one organ at a time.

The past two months have been filled with special experiences. Towards the end of February, I had the opportunity to participate in a livelihoods development workshop with some of the community leaders from organizations Bantwana supports. The idea is that with some start-up support and more information on productive farming techniques and collective marketing, farmers can make an income for their families and move beyond subsistence farming. At the workshop, I learned a lot about organic farming, which is the most cost-efficient in Western Uganda, a place with plenty of rain and fertile soil. During the practical session, we learned how to dig a trench for water conservation and plant a vegetable garden for improved nutrition. There is something special about being closer to the food we eat, to experiencing where it comes from, the labor that goes into it. Perhaps the vitamins from these vegetable gives us strength because they reflect the strength of the hands who cultivate them.

At the end of February, Pierre and I both traveled to visit our families. Pierre went to France and I went to the US. Seeing my parents after 6 months was really nice. There is something warm and comforting about being taken care of by your parents, even in the middle of winter. Parent’s unconditional love builds that part of the heart that allows us to love other unconditionally; I do not have the science to prove it, but I know it my heart it is true. Between enjoying work with my Boston colleagues and friends, catching up with friends, a conference in Chicago, a brief visit to Toronto, and enjoying time with my parents and Lior, time really flew by. My good friends, Sheede, Lindsey, and Joanna, organized a very sweet bridal shower for me, and all the recipes, advice, and love I received have integrated into various parts of me, from my taste buds to my toes, and have helped me feel like part of a community of women in the universal transformation we all experience from daughter to woman.

Coming back to Uganda felt great, a coming home of sorts. Pierre and I were happy to finally get to spend some time with our new cat, Chapatti. She is a kitten from my old cat in Gulu, Kuch. Chapatti is a bundle of energy; she is always running or climbing the curtains, and she provides endless entertainment. We’ve also moved to a new house, just two minutes down the street, so I can still see my favorite kids. It is a bigger and nicer house, so we now have a guest room and expect guests. Building a home with Pierre, our very first, buying chairs and planning where to hang pictures, is the calcium that makes my bones sing. It is the foundation of this shared life, and it is wonderful.

Shortly after coming back to Uganda, we were invited to my colleague Ben’s wedding. We made the trip to Fort Portal and attended the ceremony in a village just outside the city. The setting was beautiful, colorful arrangements of flowers and white tents, set to the background of the mountains. The ceremony itself is a negotiation between the man’s family asking the woman’s family for permission to wed. Ben’s family brought many crates of soda and packs of local brew, but the woman’s family kept asking for more because Olive, Ben’s soon to be wife, is well educated and a beautiful woman. The negotiation went on for a while. Each time Ben’s family spoke they knelt down on a cow skin, and when they walked away, they walked backwards, never turning their back as a sign of respect. Finally, when the price was agreed upon, the woman’s family brought out a line of girls for Ben to choose from. The first line of girls they brought were very young, all part of the show. Ben said they should go back to school. The second line of girls was older, but still Olive was not there, so Ben politely asked to see more girls. Finally, in the third line of girls, Olive was there, looking stunning, and Ben picked her. The families agreed and they exchanged rings and signed a marriage contract. Just seconds after the last ceremonial part, the rain started, perfect timing. We had a meal at Ben’s home. The ceremony was really beautiful, a real exchange between two families, another experience for the heart. Sometimes, these days, I think that the heart must be ever-growing until our bodies can’t hold everything anymore, and then, I don’t know.

On the way back from Fort Portal, we visited our friend Nathan. Together we went to visit the five girls we are supporting to be in school. It was lovely to see them. They met us with hugs and smiles. We listened to what classes they like and do not like, and which clubs they want to try out. It was lovely to see these young girls, who weeks ago were at home, feeling so happy at school. Appreciation for education, that’s a cell in my brain that forever has a picture of our five students and a feeling of their hugs. The fear in my stomach, that I can’t really make a difference, it fades when I am with these girls at their new school. Funny, that from all places in the body, contemplation, and sometimes the anxiety that comes with it, surface in the stomach. We wished the girls luck on their exams and made the journey back to Kampala.

We also stopped by and visited our friend and new business partner, Justus. We’re starting a business together that buys maize from farmers (at a fair price) and then processes the maize into maize flour, for the Ugandan meal posho. We’re just starting and learning, but we hope in time, we can set up a sustainable, social business that contributes to the wellbeing of farmers in Uganda.

Now, just weeks away from the wedding, we are getting really excited, and also continue to enjoy our life here.

Hope you have a time of wonderful experiences.

Thanks for being in my life,

Inbal

From the bridal shower in Needham




Learning to farm


Home in Kampala

Chapatti, playing outside


Enjoying our new porch


Chapatti, or new cat


Pierre in his new office... and it can also be a guest room... come and visit :)


Our nice kitchen... the other day we made Moroccan Tagine!


Living room


Our business adventures

Justus at the maize mill


Pierre and Justus in the office... the posho in the background is for sell


bags of maize

Ben's wedding in Fort Portal


the view in the evening






Ben's family bringing the gifts for Olive's family




The first line of girls... "they are too young" says Ben


The second line of girls... sent back because Olive is not there


looking for Olive in the 3rd line of girls


Here she is!


The exchange of rings (Yes, Olive changed her dress, very fashionable!)


Pierre and friends with the groom


Dancing with the women


more dancing