In Their Own Words 2: The Youth are the Future/Coming to Uganda

Hi!
I apologize for the hiatus--I took a bit of a break to spend some vacation time with my family, but I hope to post somewhat more regularly here on in.
Here is a few short selections, again from Samson, in which he discusses coming to Uganda, challenges that arose, and what he hopes to gain for himself and his community through his experience there.  He and several others came to live with the Abayudaya community in 2004.

Samson, clad in a a talit [prayer shawl] and tefilin [phylacteries--boxes containing the shema prayer strung together by leather straps worn on the head and arms during morning prayers] looks on and prays as the Torah is returned to the ark during the Bar Mitzvah celebration.

We were in a group of 8 young people who came...to school.  There was a group in Hadassah and a group studying in this school [the public primary school, situated near SK secondary school]  and three in SK.
They [the Kenyan community] believed that us, young ones, we are the new generation.  And they have claims that to make, to strengthen Judaism--as youths we could, because we are still young.  For them, they are old, and they would go and leave for us Judaism.  So it would be better for us to learn more about Judaism than them, because we are the future generation...
Though when we came this way, there was change of climate which disturbed many of us...it's not the same climate, Kenya and here! So disease--it stopped the majority of us. Many of us had to go back.
We stayed a group of seven, after others going back, also there were others...who joined us after that group who couldn't stay in Uganda came back--they were replaced [which made seven remaining].
...
When I was in messianic faith I knew just that there was a "land flowing with milk and honey."  That's what they know.  They believe in Israel that right now they can go and find rivers of milk. So the teaching of Rabbi,  I really enjoy it because it describes more.
Since we don't have a rabbi, we don't have books so it becomes so hard to know such [things].
...
On Shabbat and some weekdays when we [those who usually live in the Abayudaya community] are not busy we learn [with our community]. [I want it to be like this one but] if possible, more religious.
[I.E.] To have more learning...to learn more, whatever they can. 
[For example,] Pronunciation of words--I have learnt many words from Rabbi.  You know some words, they already appear in school, [but] it's not the same way they are pronounced. So I have learned more to pronounce words.  

In Their Own Words 1: A Jewish Sect is Formed

So I've begun listening to an interview I did back at the beginning of my trip, with my SK friend Samson.  Samson, as you may recall, is from a small village in Kenya, which only very recently began practicing Jewish-ly.  (Click here for the original post on his interview.)
The following is an excerpt I found particularly interesting in which he describes the split which occurred in his community.

Samson at his prefect swearing-in ceremony at Semei Kakungulu Secondary School, 7/7/11.

It started that we were Messianic people in Left Valley and we met another Messianic group in Central [province].  After we met them we stayed together until we had to separate after a visit of the Nairobi Hebrew Congregation...
We claimed to be Jewish--we are following Judaism, though we were Messianic Jews.  Messianics believes that we have two types of Jews--physical Jews and spiritual Jews...they say for them they are Jews inside, but not Jews physically...
After they [the Jewish visitors] came they gave us a short lesson about Judaism and according to some people they were willing to learn from them but others they said no.  They explained more about Jesus--who was Jesus.  That's what brought the split between the two groups.
Because some of the Messianic Jews know Jesus as God or son of God.  So it was very hard to tell them that Jesus was a human being, not God.  But they [the visitors] said he was a son of God, like I'm a son of God.  Same as me.  We are all God's children--but he had no way of saying that for him he's over us--he was an ordinary person.  Some couldn't believe that.
[To] the group which split, they say--if I want to learn about America, and you are an American.  And I say, I need to know more about America--I can't know more than you know, because you belong there.  And you can't know more about my father than I do.
[This last part was the explanation for why they trusted the visitors and decided to split from the Messianic group.]


Stay tuned for more!

A Tour of Experience and Ritual with the Abayudaya blog, Part 2!

Hi folks! (Or those of you who still look now that I'm out of Africa...)
Now that I'm back in the States, I'm hoping to start a new segment on this blog that will offer further insight into my trip and the interviews I did.  While I can't promise I will post every day, I do hope that I will post at lease several times a week.
So what is this new project? Well, I'm starting to revisit my interviews, via the recordings and notes I took, and doing so is a whole new--and exciting--learning experience.  Undoubtedly, there will be things that I forgot to mention in my blog notes when I first interviewed my subjects, and now I'll be able to share them.  I also hope to include actual quotes now, not just my own summaries, which should prove to be a whole new window into this project.
Some of the interviews are quite long, so it's possible that people will be spread over a few days.  The goal is not to throw people's personal lives up on the blog (I've been thinking a lot about what is appropriate to share and what isn't, and I will make sure to refrain from posting anything I was asked not to or is clearly sensitive information) but rather to share people's stories in relation to their Jewish life and life within the Abayudaya community.  The focus will be on those aspects that are unique to the Abayudaya experience, and that relate to the various challenges and unique experiences that come with being a Jew in Uganda.
I hope to make my first of these posts tomorrow or Sunday, so stay tuned!
Shabbat shalom,
Nava

Photographic Highlights!

Hi everyone! It's crazy and wonderful to be back in the U.S., though I'm definitely missing Nabugoye!  Here are some pictorial highlights--I know I wasn't able to post any pictures from Uganda, so I though I should make up for it. Enjoy!

Gates to Nabugoye Hill.

Some of my high school students/friends.

Nasinye synagogue.

Drawing on the "cave synagogue."

Inside the Namanyoni synagogue.

Singing Shabbat songs at Hadassah.

Preparing paper beads.

Naavah and Nava!

Rabbi Gershom and I at his home.

Inside the Nabogoye synagogue.

One of the Lugandan psalms used in the Friday night service.

Final (Packed) Day, Final In-Country Post!

Reporting from the airport in Entebbe, about 1.5 hours before departure.
My last day (yesterday--the internet wasn't being friendly last night) was pretty jam-packed and phenomenal.  I made my way around the Mbale-Nabugoye area saying last goodbyes, gathering stories I'd heard but hadn't gotten a chance to record, and even some new ones! It was certainly a great way to end my trip, though it was (and is) still hard to leave an entire community, with no way of knowing if and when I will return.
My first stop was a meeting with Mr. Satte, the SK deputy headmaster, in Mbale, where we discussed final thoughts on my teaching and useful improvements that can be made in English at school as well as other struggles of SK.  I have always been impressed by his dedication to the school, and I'm hoping to keep in touch with him as to see what great things he continues to do there.  After meeting for a while in town, he showed me his home, where I met his family and heard a little about the area (the slum of Namattara) before heading back to the Hill.  Back at Nabugoye, I followed a quick lunch with a final visit to Hadassah, where Aaron and the students of P6 and 7 had prepared a really sweet (musical) goodbye/thank you ceremony.  While last year our AJWS group was privy to many such ceremonies, which I am guessing are somewhat of a cultural staple at this point, it was especially meaningful for me having been here on my own.  They sang in Hebrew and in English, and afterwards I addressed them briefly, thanking them for having me and reminding them to keep reading!
From Hadassah I made my way to Nangalo, where I did not find J.J. but got to spend a few hours with Zilpah, one of his adopted children and one of the students I'd become close with at SK.  She taught me some of the Lugandan psalms sung at services--which I can sort of-ish sing now--and told me the story of how she came to live with J.J. following the deaths of her parents.  She also introduced me to J.J's neighbor and step-mom, Mama Deborah, who is mother to Aaron, Rabbi Gershom, Seth and Athalia.  Quite a firecracker (within moments of our meeting, she told me she could find me a husband, cracking up all the while), she's lived in Nangolo her whole life, and still digs in her gardens harvesting coffee and beans.
From Nangalo I made my final sojourn back to Nabugoye, where I wasted little time--I happened upon Jacobo from the northern area of Apace, and I was able to record the story of his village.  While I'd gotten a shorter version a few Shabbats ago (as recounted in the blog) it was pretty cool to hear the story in its entirety--the religious progression of reading the bible, the search for Jews in Kenya and Uganda with some Messianics thrown in on the way, and the hoops that were jumped through when they finally found the Abayudaya. (I'll try to put up the more detailed story when I'm home and I've played it back!)
I then took my last opportunity to sit down with Alex (from Ghana) and record the history he has gathered so far of the Ghana Jews. (See previous post for the story.)  Their community is especially fascinating as it is likely there are Jews, or at least those affected by Jews a long while ago, among its members.
After a full day of running around, talking and listening, it was finally time to pull out of denial--and pack. I managed a couple of hours of sleep before loading up the car and beginning the 4 hour drive to Entebbe with Isaac.
It's certainly been an amazing ride here. While I'm not sure what the future holds for all that I've learned (I am, for several reasons, rethinking my original plan), I can already appreciate the amazing impact it has had, and will have, on me.

Thank you for cyber-joining me here, and don't be a stranger--I'm not sure I'll post daily when I get back, but I'll definitely update often on tidbits I learn from re-listening to my records, project ideas, etc.

But for now--shalom Uganda!

Farewell Shabbat/WE ARE THE ABAYUDAYA

My last Shabbat did the impossible--it lived up to my lofty expectations.
I arrived back from my visit with Ramogi friends with barely enough time to prepare for Shabbat and get my ideas finalized for my words of wisdom, but managed to make it to services only a few minutes late.  The service, which took place only by the light of the ner tamid ("constant light", a common presence in synagogues) as the power was out, had a particularly affecting and genuine aura.  As we sang togehter and prayed silently in or own words or by the faint light of the setting sun, I reached a truly full appreciation of the opportunities of been given here.
After kabbalat shabbat, I addressed the community, discussing the journeys of Israel in the desert and their future in Israel and connecting it to my journey here.  The importance of recounting, remembering and utilizing what is learned from this as one goes forward was a lesson I stressed for myself and others.  I also had the opportunity to express what a unique community this was, and how much I have appreciate that, stressing how having a homegrown Jewish community in the 20-21 centuries is something that helps create the singular practice and environment present here.
This was not my only time to the front of the congregation--for the first time since my bat mitzvah, I pulled out my latent (and admittedly limited) trop knowledge and read the second aliyah (~"section") of the Torah portion this morning.  Most of my post-dinner time was taken up with practicing, though it was pretty rewarding to read publicly for the second time in my life!
After synagogue I decided to join the Rabbi's after-service "reformation" group (where he discusses issues of alcohol and drug use with the community) though today's discussion actually turned out to be about...marriage.  The problem of intermarriage was the main issue to be tackled--much more of a threat where the girls are quite few and many are or are seen as relatives.  The rabbi encouraged the throng to look for Jewish wives, and if they found themselves interested in a non-Jewish woman, she would have to prove herself dedicated to Judaism before they became seriously involved (and considered conversion).  Some clearly struggled with this, and it is understandable given not only the demographic problems but the hidden dating culture here--one rarely speaks of "boyfriend" of "girlfriend" and meetings must often take place in secret before an official ceremony occurs.
Following the lunch discussion and lunch, I took a pleasant walk with a few Shabbat guest to Namanyoni, the next community over--taking a last peak inside their synagogue and re-visiting Athalia, who I met with some weeks back.  She explained to us the practice she and some of her peers keep of refraining from entering the synagogue during menstruation and for the biblically prescribed number of days after the birth of children, a practice that the younger generation has dropped as they have adopted a form of Conservative Judaism.
The walk was followed by a Talmud session with the Rabbi, a guest and the other volunteer, and it gave me my first insight into the Rabbi's learning style and ability.  It was quite interesting to see him deal with the text (which he did well) in a style that was very different from his usual theological teachings in services or conversation.
Perhaps the highlight of the day, though, actually came after havdalah (the ceremony ending Shabbat).  I got in one last conversation with the rabbi, and among other revelations, got the crux of what I have learned here confirmed: this community is not Orthodox, Conservative or Reform, whichever American influences and rabbis have come here--they are Abayudaya.  The affiliations people claim come only from the fact that women can participate fully in the service--even the Rabbi's rabbinical school teacher, who visited here sometime back, acknowledged there were many issues here that would be unique to the Abayudaya.  Flat out, I was told that Abayudaya is a denomination unto itself, one which is already inspiring other African countries and which the Rabbi hopes to see one day in the U.S. and Israel as well.  It is new and thus evolving, figuring out how to contend with halacha which can be bent but not broken, according to the rabbi's estimation.  (He did, however, say that if he was to  be interested in changing halacha for the purposes of helping the community he would write a teshuvah for approval by the Conservative Committee on Jewish Laws and Standards.)
Falling asleep now, but more from this great conversation (and hopefully a few others to come) tomorrow!!
Shavua tov!

Tying things up...

My last Friday in Nabugoye --a lot of running around, reminiscing and preparing for my final Shabbat, complimented by a surprise visit from two of my friends from Ramogi!
I was able to come up with a few parting words, based on this week's Torah portion (which are not very profound, but I'll share tomorrow when I'm not quite as rushed for time).  I'll be delivering them tonight at services, and I hope not to make too big a fool of myself! It is quite hard to know what to say to a community that has become so comfortable for me in these past seven weeks, and I hope it will suffice.
I'm hoping this Shabbat will equal others in enjoyment and relaxation, and that I will get ample time to spend with my friends here before I leave.
Shabbat Shalom!

Back with a bang, but only a few days left!

We're back! It's certainly been strange being away from the blog and Nabugoye, though the trip out west was a lot of fun, filled with breathtaking scenery, amazing animals and many tuna packets and protein bars.  All in all, a great success--but I'm looking forward to enjoying my last few days here.
While much of today was taken up with the protracted journey from Kampala to Nabugoye via Mbale (the bus to Mbale only leaves when it fills and stops often along the way, so a 4 hour trip easily expands to 6), the night brought a long awaited occurrence--a great conversation with the rabbi.
The topics jumped from communal obligations and roles to theology, and was a fascinating experience from start to finish--four hours long, and could have easily been longer!  Some highlights:
1) Hearing the rabbi's passion for pushing for a sustainable community--that the current situation of the schools is just too precarious, and that empowerment must be given to the people to pay for their child's education so that dependency does not continue forever.  To that end, they will soon implement a plan by which the university fund will be tied to going into certain professions required in the community, but once the community is sustaining itself, then people will be free to study what they choose and work where they choose, but (hopefully) on their own dime.
2) What makes one Jewish here, he said, is practicing as a Jew.  This was not, as I understood it, to negate conversion, but rather to stress the act of participation.
3) Hearing about his role as the only officially ordained African rabbi residing in an African community, and where that places him in a Pan-African context.  Most fascinating was his wish to galvanize the Lemba, a prosperous South African tribe which identifies as Jewish and which was discovered to possess the "Cohen" (priestly) gene, to engage in more practical aspects of Judaism.
4) His belief in agriculture as Uganda's future was fresh and honest, and probably very accurate.  J.J. was  his shining example.
5) Hearing about the old customs of the community which arose when the Bible was the main source of guidance, such as taking off one's shoes upon entering the synagogue (as Moses did) or announcing when one is in niddah (menstruating) and removing oneself from the community for the duration of the period.
6) Hearing his take on Torah--in terms of the book, it is a human document that he personally connects to, with different reports by different people on the same events. Interestingly--he doesn't doubt the verity of the events, as many scholars do.  There were merely many present and different viewpoints, and this, he says, is what the contradictions express.  He identifies with many of the events in the bible, and reinterprets some when necessary, and is very comfortable disagreeing with parts, as one "does with a best friend!"
7) The importance to him is the now--not how a people came to be, what genes they have, why they became Jewish--what matter is where they are now, if they are sincerely practicing now or not and for the right reasons.
8) He stressed that he did not believe in chosen-ness, and did not like asserting one religion's prominence over another--thus his issue with certain prayers, including Aleinu. "What's good for me can't be bad for someone else."--it has to be good for everyone.

The main question we left off with, which he said he needed time to think about before giving the answer: If there is no belief at all the Judaism holds a special and important place on its own, beyond a personal connection to it--why preserve the Torah and Judaism?

Penultimate Shabbat/WEDDDDDDING

This week's ritually restful ending packed quite a punch--much was learned and experienced, and I'm beginning to feel the countdown to America...

First off, the rabbi's sermons creaked open a little wider the window into the Rabbi's interesting and complex theology.  At services he discussed oaths--which are the subject of this past week's Torah portion.  He used examples from other places in the Torah to explain that, though the portion describes how many can disqualify a woman's oath if they hear it but this is not so for a man, that really, anyone can disqualify anyone's oath.  He used an example of God, in Exodus, proclaiming that he will destroy the people of Israel and give Moses a new nation, and Moses fighting back (and winning) to prove his point.  Another muzungu guest asked simply: but with all this, it is still written that for women it's one way, and men another!  Rabbi Gershom's ballsy but honest answer (somewhat, but accurately, paraphrased) : "Well, halacha doesn't say this but I do--anyone can nullify anyone else's vow.  That is what Rabbi Gershom says." The main lesson I gleaned from here--though I am curious to hear other views--is how truly dedicated he is to his egalitarian view of Judaism (which is consistent with his views on the prayer of aleinu--see earlier post), whether or not it jives with even biblical halacha.

The next interesting moment came when discussing God's ordering the Israelites to kill the Midianites as retribution--the Rabbi explained this, as well as the destruction of the 7 nations of Canaan, as being more of "metaphorical" destruction--a view he got from his rabbinical school teacher--perhaps akin to teaching them the values of Judaism, even proselytizing, which he explained was only discouraged at times when it would be dangerous to do so (not sure about this one...)  He said that just like "a land flowing with milk and honey" is merely a metaphor--so too, would this be.  An equally ballsy move, I thought--does this mean everything in the Bible is a metaphor? What about those things we keep literally? (And is this a standard explanation for Conservative Judaism--maybe it's just my ignorance that's brining the questions...?) Many things I'm itching to know--I'm hoping to set up a meeting with the rabbi for later this week to get them out!  Overall, I continue to find him and his intellectual honestly and curiosity pretty amazing!

In addition to the rabbi's revelations, I talked to Jacobo, one of the Yeshiva students who is from the village of Apace, in the north.  Judaism came very recently to his community, in a very similar manner to the way it sprouted in the Mbale area.  They began examining the bible, in 1983, and in stages, took on Jewish customs and finally beliefs--first with a move of the Sabbath from Sunday to Saturday, then a decision that Jesus was not the savior, and finally a decision to be circumcised, which was only fulfilled in 2008--when community members came to Nabugoye to be circumcised and converted.  They had been well on their way toward adopting Judaism when they heard of the Abayudaya--they tried Kenya Jews first--but it was they who finally gave them the opportunity to become Jews and send their kids to Jewish schools, participate in communal Jewish holidays, etc.  There are about 60 of them now in Jacobo's village, and he is training to be their spiritual leader.

Topping off the day was a very different sort of experience--a Muslim wedding occurring a few minutes walk from Nabugoye!  It began around 12PM and lasted until who-knows-when--we were there from about 8-10:30.  In that time, there was much waiting and music playing (when the generator was working) as we waited for the bride and groom to arrive, which they finally did.  The muezzin sang for much of the time and the imam as well as various family members spoke to the throngs, who were gathered in a couple of adjacent tents (shoutout to all my Arabic-loving friends--there were many "hamdud allah"s and "insha allah"s).  We even got a shoutout thanks to our foreign-ness (though we were deemed European, not American).  It was quite a wild time, and makes me 2 for 2 on trips to Uganda which include wedding ceremonies!

That's all for now--as school's off for the next few days I'll be way from the blog for a little while doing some (very safe and organized, don't fear worriers) exploring in Uganda with another volunteer.  But I'm hoping to pack my last few days here, when I get back, with as much learning and experiencing as I can, so look back Wednesday/Thursday!

A variety of successful endings

Quick pre-shabbat, as usual!
Spelling bee and essay competition were low key but successful, and pretty much wrapped up my time in SK (though I will probably go back to see the students/talk to Satte, the deputy headmaster).
Shabbat songs at Hadassah were made more adorable by the accompanying guitar (the headmaster played).
And I finally saw a chicken shechted, and may have helped yank out the feathers--the oldest person in that position (though not to fear, the killing was done by Seth, the village Shochet).
Exams are starting at both schools, so next week is sort of up in the air--we shall see!
Shabbat shalom!

Packed to the Brim!

Minyan, interviews, classes and essays galore--today was one of my busier days in Nabugoye.

I woke up at 7 to make the morning minyan which starts between 7 and 7:30...usually. Of course, this being Uganda time, I and one other muzungu arrived at 7:15--to an empty shul.  To be fair, it was raining, which may have discouraged some from making the trek.  In the end, there were 7 of us, so alas the morning minyan became merely the "morning 7 randos praying together."  After minyan and breakfast, I sat down with Eria, the chairman of the Abayudaya board, which as I ironed out today, is different from the executive committee.  The board sits above the executive committee, and it was established upon the rabbi's return from rabbinical school in the U.S. to oversee the committee, which includes all of the project coordinators (such as the heads of the schools, clinic and other community run projects).  The board is a smaller group of community members, and it is they who approve the projects the committee is interested.  Eria is quite young (b. 1983) but was personally tapped by the rabbi as a candidate for the position, and is the first board head there's ever been.  He described to me the challenges of being young person in that position of power (getting people to listen to you can be more difficult) which is sometimes exacerbated by the fact that he lacks the American contacts others have.  We discussed many aspects of community issues and struggles, but his most-stressed point was far and away the strongest: this community needs sustainable institutions.  He says these have been hard to garner funding for, but that somewhat odd-sounding projects could be the key--such as a milling machine for the primary school, which would help cut down food costs for the schools as well as provide a business opportunity for community members to run and the community to benefit from.  Having institutions that give community members jobs, and having students pursue degrees that are applicable to such positions, is also a key area that he and his board are trying to work on.  (There was much more--one of the best interviews I've had! Any specific questions I'll try answer them!)

After the interview I went to SK to grade essays arguing why or why not caning should be allowed.  The answers were varied (though the acutely poor grammar was not) and included some interestingly creative arguments, such as the notion that caning could hurt the environment (you cane with a branch, after all) and that it might occur due to tribal rivalry of the student and teacher.  Others argued that caning could promote unity and a strong work ethic among the students. 

After essays were read I had a short interview with Satte, the deputy headmaster I work with.  He stressed his appreciation for the school's unique environment but also its struggles, such as those for money, food (which it uniquely provides free to students, via Kulanu) and book.

From SK I walked to Hadassah, where I cracked open the first religious books with the students.  In P7, we looked at a Humash, reading the first verses of Genesis (in Hebrew, of course).  While the reading wasn't amazingly clean, it was a bit better than I had expected, and the students were very into it, poring over the letters and vowels with a high level of intensity.  P4 had a little bit of a hard time with the siddur--we made it through one line of adon olam--but they showed an equal amount of dedication to sounding out the words, letter by letter, vowel by vowel.  I encouraged them to look at these books, available in the school library, on their own to continue honing their skills.  Today's lessons actually proved the most rewarding of any of mine for both classes.

Packed to the Brim!

Minyan, interviews, classes and essays galore--today was one of my busier days in Nabugoye.

I woke up at 7 to make the morning minyan which starts between 7 and 7:30...usually. Of course, this being Uganda time, I and one other muzungu arrived at 7:15--to an empty shul.  To be fair, it was raining, which may have discouraged some from making the trek.  In the end, there were 7 of us, so alas the morning minyan became merely the "morning 7 randos praying together."  After minyan and breakfast, I sat down with Eria, the chairman of the Abayudaya board, which as I ironed out today, is different from the executive committee.  The board sits above the executive committee, and it was established upon the rabbi's return from rabbinical school in the U.S. to oversee the committee, which includes all of the project coordinators (such as the heads of the schools, clinic and other community run projects).  The board is a smaller group of community members, and it is they who approve the projects the committee is interested.  Eria is quite young (b. 1983) but was personally tapped by the rabbi as a candidate for the position, and is the first board head there's ever been.  He described to me the challenges of being young person in that position of power (getting people to listen to you can be more difficult) which is sometimes exacerbated by the fact that he lacks the American contacts others have.  We discussed many aspects of community issues and struggles, but his most-stressed point was far and away the strongest: this community needs sustainable institutions.  He says these have been hard to garner funding for, but that somewhat odd-sounding projects could be the key--such as a milling machine for the primary school, which would help cut down food costs for the schools as well as provide a business opportunity for community members to run and the community to benefit from.  Having institutions that give community members jobs, and having students pursue degrees that are applicable to such positions, is also a key area that he and his board are trying to work on.  (There was much more--one of the best interviews I've had! Any specific questions I'll try answer them!)

After the interview I went to SK to grade essays arguing why or why not caning should be allowed.  The answers were varied (though the acutely poor grammar was not) and included some interestingly creative arguments, such as the notion that caning could hurt the environment (you cane with a branch, after all) and that it might occur due to tribal rivalry of the student and teacher.  Others argued that caning could promote unity and a strong work ethic among the students. 

After essays were read I had a short interview with Satte, the deputy headmaster I work with.  He stressed his appreciation for the school's unique environment but also its struggles, such as those for money, food (which it uniquely provides free to students, via Kulanu) and book.

From SK I walked to Hadassah, where I cracked open the first religious books with the students.  In P7, we looked at a Humash, reading the first verses of Genesis (in Hebrew, of course).  While the reading wasn't amazingly clean, it was a bit better than I had expected, and the students were very into it, poring over the letters and vowels with a high level of intensity.  P4 had a little bit of a hard time with the siddur--we made it through one line of adon olam--but they showed an equal amount of dedication to sounding out the words, letter by letter, vowel by vowel.  I encouraged them to look at these books, available in the school library, on their own to continue honing their skills.  Today's lessons actually proved the most rewarding of any of mine for both classes.

Where Health and Community Converge

Today was a bit of a piecemeal day, as SK classes have finished in preparation for next week's exams and Hadassah kids were participating in a number sporting events.  School is winding down faster and sooner than I expected, and it should make the lat 1.5 weeks of my stay here very interesting and unpredictable.
The heads of SK seem very into the idea of academic competition after the success of the debate, and we now have an essay competition and spelling bee planned for Friday.  Essays are due tomorrow, and must discuss whether or not the student believes that teachers should cane students as a form of discipline.  I am interested to read the essays and hear the kids' opinions as well as see how they express themselves in writing.  The winner will read his or her essay aloud to students on Friday and will be awarded a dictionary (a hot, and expensive, commodity here).  The spelling bee winner will be granted the same award.  The idea is to allow the kids to work on their writing and language skills in a competitive--and fun--environment, and I hope that these sort of competitions will continue after we leave.  Honestly, I think the day of debate could be the most beneficial for the students, and I'm happy that the teachers seem keen on continuing it.

After ironing out the details for the end-of-term competitions, I spent the afternoon at Tobin Health Center, the Abayudaya's health clinic which serves the Mbale area.  As a private clinic, it's considerably nicer than public ones, meaning that most patients get their own beds and those who can pay can even receive private rooms.  Of course, drugs and overnight stays all cost, though the community often financially assists Abayudaya patients in need of treatment.
In addition to a clinic, the building, which includes a hair salon, barber/video shop and a few offices, also serves a sort of central meeting and gathering area for the central members of the community.  One could call it the it the Abayudaya JCC! The rabbi, his wife,  J.J. as well as the community chairman and various others can often be found working out of there at different times and the businesses there are also run by community members.  Spending an afternoon there involved running into all of these people as well as some of the friendly Tobin staff, including Saul, who manages the desk and lives in the Nasinye community I visited a few weeks back.  Eria, the current Abayaduaya Committee chairman, was also there for a while, and I'm hoping to speak with him more tomorrow morning about his role in the community.  I have not really gotten to know him much yet (he's around Nabugoye fairly often, but usually only for Yeshiva class or to talk to the rabbi) so I'm excited for the opportunity!

(In less interesting news, I continued to attempt my guitar playing, and continued to fail at scratching out an F.  My C and G are just fine...if any of you musical readers have advice, do let me know!)

Room for Debate?

Today was the "Yom Debate" organized by a fellow volunteer, which I mentioned briefly at the end of yesterday's post.  The students of S4 and S5 were split into teams of 2 or 3, and given last night to prepare topics controversial in Uganda--ranging from whether homosexuality should be legalized to whether teachers are more valuable than doctors.  Two teams would go up at a time, and they were assigned to the opposition or proposition right before the debate started--they had to prepare both sides--and then began the carefully timed debate, complete with questions from the audience.  The three judges scored each round, with one team winning and the teams with the highest scores competing in the championship, where they were given a new topic with 15 minutes to prepare it.
As an observer, and someone who has interacted with some of these kids in other settings, it was quite eye-opening to hear both their views and their methods of argument.  It was an exercise that does not seem to come naturally to students in an environment where abstract thought is never encouraged, but which some students still managed to embrace with an impressive level of proficiency.  While many, if not most arguments, were difficult to back up and easily contradicted in a setting where research is nearly impossible, the emphasis on thought and expressing persuasively was one that was unique to see at a secondary school.
A few observations:
--understanding the prompt--this was something that slowed us down in a lot in the beginning, when each side would end up arguing his opponent's position.  Luckily this issue only took a few rounds to overcome.
--homosexuality came up in many of the arguments (including those with no direct relation) as a harmful outcome of the conditions of the motion--I was introduced afresh to the common cultural attitude of Ugandans on this nationally controversial topic
--general misinformation was pretty common--for instance, that one cannot get AIDS from homosexual intercourse.
--western culture was a common go-to scapegoat--sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly.
--many more things, which I'll try to include tomorrow but am a bit too tired to get to tonight (a conversation of muzungus here went long and before we knew it it was past 1 in the morning).
I took copious notes on the debate arguments, and the window they provided into these kids thinking was was fascinating.  I'll be sure to mention more tomorrow.
Night!

Teaching Frustrations, Interview Revelations--Take 2

After a great day of rafting on the Nile and a night in Jinja by the river's edge, I made by way back to Nabugoye early this morning, ready to begin another week of classes and interviews.  During a phone conversation with Aaron, however, it was revealed that P5, 6 and 7 all have exams at the beginning of this week, so they would be missing class once again.  This means that I have precious little time left with most of my Hadassah students, and I must think hard about how to use it wisely.
Things didn't get much better at the secondary school, where I received the essays of the students who had  volunteered to write on Friday.  I had not really had a gauge on the writing level of students, and the work I received certainly wasn't what I expected from S4 (where students are approximately 18).  Wrongly used idioms abound, because students can get rewarded for their use, and correct grammar is a rarity.  I think that it is possible these skills are only selectively useful in Uganda, but it's hard to think that students cannot properly express themselves in their language of instruction.  Otherwise, my S2 class in reading comprehension was alright, if a little slower than the S4's had been on Friday.  It's still hard getting used to a crowd of kids staring blankly when you say the word "Hitler" or "Holocaust" (or even London, the capital of Uganda's colonizers!) but the initial surprise has begun to wear off.
After class the day was redeemed by a visit to the 95 year old Solomeni Buete, the last living Abayudaya elder who knew Kakungulu.  Before getting to his experiences, it is astounding how able-bodied he is considering his age--he still cooks for himself and digs his own gardens, and he walks, sees and hears impeccably well for a man of so many years.
While some of what Buete said had been written in the Abayudaya book or been heard from J.J. (or both), there were some interesting new facts and even a few cool artifacts! On the fact end, Buete told us that his father had been the original Mohel (performer of Jewish ritual circumcision known as brit milah) for the community under Kakungulu, performing some of the first circumcisions in the community (including his own son's!)  He also described the earliest Jewish prayers, which included blessings in Luganda on food and personal prayer said in synagogue in place of the tefilah that was not accessible for quite some time.
Perhaps most exciting on the artifact side was a picture of Semei Kakungulu himself, something that may not exist anywhere else.  He also showed us a sheet of paper, which his father made him swear he would guard, that contained his father's writings from a walk he took with Kakungulu back in the day, describing his journeys around Africa.  Unfortunately, Kakungulu's books were passed to his children, who mostly converted to Christianity and did not treat the works with proper respect.
Overall, Buete was an amazing man (or musé, the respectful term for "old man' in Luganda), with unparalleled physical and mental capacity for a man his age.  While he is far from Nabugoye (it takes his adopted son 4 hours to get to SK for secondary by foot in the morning), I hope I may visit him again and learn even more!
Tomorrow (in addition to Shiva Assar biTamuz, a Jewish fast day commemorating the penetration of the walls of Jerusalem) is a Yom Debate (Day of Debate) at SK.  The other volunteer here is organizing and I am certainly curious to see how things will go...

Rachel/Shabbat Muzungu

Shavua tov!
First, a bit more about my conversation with Rachel yesterday.  Rachel, as I mentioned, teaches Christian religious education, a compulsory subject in Ugandan schools (the Ugandan government and country is largely Christian).  The curriculum is split into three--Old Testament (the Torah), New Testament and Ethics.  She teaches OT and ethics, though of course this is all from a Christian perspective.  She said while it was a bit weird, she would just tell her students (Jewish, Christian and Muslim alike) that if they want to do well in her class, they need to "pretend they are Christian." Even the Old Testament curriculum is required to include many Jesus and Christian references which are part of the Christian reading of the Bible.  She also described her experience teaching in a Muslim school (she teaches both there and at SK) dispelling rumors about Judaism while her Muslim colleagues taught her about Islam.  An example she gave me was a query by a colleague wondering if Jews ate on Shabbat--they'd heard they just fast.  Rachel explained that no, Jews eat, they just cook before Shabbat!
Another fascinating aspect of Rachel is her musical talent, which you can experience if you listen to any of the Abayudaya C.D.s  She has stopped singing and songwriting as much as she used to, now that she's married with a child in Nasinye,  but still continues when she has time.  She says new tunes will sometimes come to her in a dream or through some other random conduit.
On another school note, I assigned my first homework-- a book report for five S4 volunteers.  It's totally fine, and I'm crossing my fingers that the kids turn in something recognizable.
This shabbat was certainly different.  The house was packed with muzungus, mainly American Jewish World Service Volunteer Summer participants.  It was interesting to meet this year's cohort (and re-meet a few of them, who I'd seen briefly on my trip to Ramogi) and have a chance to reminisce about my last summer in Uganda, and hear about what has changed.  Also entertaining were all the questions I got about my own experience from participants (and group leaders) looking for comparisons as well as advice.  Most striking, though, was seeing the difference between the brief experience and view I got of the community last year as opposed to what I've gotten this year--it made me realize how much I've learned and gained by spending an extended period of time here.  A few participants voiced an interest in coming back here, and I hope some of them end up doing so (I would say following in my footsteps, but I don't want to be haughty :-)).
In terms of experiences, this Shabbat had a couple of high points.  First was a visit to the grave of Semei Kakungulu, Abayudaya founder.  I had been there last year, but as a group of AJWSers were making the walk, I decided I might as well look again.  We were able to see his grave, marked by an inscribed stone (not so usual for Uganda) as well of those of some of his family members, both Jewish and Christian.  We also stood on the cliffside where he sat on his chair, looking over his fields and pontificating to some of his "subjects."
On a less historical note, tonight marked the second speaker-accompanied dance party experience of my time here, which was made unique by the pouring rain.  Short from stopping anyone, this merely egged on local and muzungu alike, though it only lasted a modest 3 hours.  Some visitors wondered "Do you guys have this every week??"  Sadly, the answer is no.
That's all for now.  Tomorrow will be a no-blog day, as I'll be taking the day off to go whitewater rafting on the Nile--in the tradition of Moses, of course!  Monday, however, should prove juicy--I'll be going to visit oldest living community elder (approx. 100-but still working in the field!) who knew Kakungulu, is supposed to have some amazing stories about him and possibly have one of the only remaining copies of the book K. wrote about his beliefs and theology.
Shavua tov and have a wonderful Sunday!

Really short pre-Shabbat Post

Very very late, but a quick run-through of today--more reading comprehension (S4 was the most rewarding so far) and some lackluster Shabbat singing Hadassah.
I had a great conversation with Rachel, J.J.'s daughter.  She teaches Christian religious education at SK and a Muslim school in Mbale (go religion!) and had a lot of interesting things to say about the education system in general and the way she teaches religion via the government's Christian curriculum.  I'll be sure to say more about that tomorrow!
The AJWS group is here, which is definitely an interesting change--things are bu-sy.  And the task of challah making was left to me and the rabbi's nieces today (sans Tzipporah and a recipe) so prayers that it works out!
Shabbat shalom!

From teacher to student and back again

The second day of reading comprehension was an ounce more productive with S2, who grasped the vocabulary and themes of the article (the breakout of WWII--whoopee!) a bit better than S1.  There are certainly some surprising frustrations, like having to eek out that London is a city, not a country, in England, but overall I think that the extra reading comprehension practice is a better way to attack the spelling/vocabulary problems which kids and teachers are struggling with.  And the mini history lesson is a nice add in!
After class I joined my third Yeshiva class, where they were discussing prayer (shoutout, Dad!)  The discussion surrounded what prayer, or more broadly, a service, should include.  Suggestions included things like "unity," and "respect for the individual," a learning opportunity (such as a discussion or dvar Torah), participation, and spiritual uplift.  With these concepts, the rabbi started a discussion of how one might make a service more amenable to a congregation with limited language skills and limited understanding.  What I found most interesting about his suggestions was his urging to reevaluate the siddur (prayer book), with the thought of ensuring that prayers were not only good for "us" (Jews) but good for everyone. His main issue was with prayers that specified the Jewish people as being "better" than others. Some steps he suggested included thinking hard about the inclusion of some of the best known parts of the liturgy, such as aleinu, and lines like "asher bachar banu mikol haamim" ("who chose us from among all the nations").  There was some pushback from myself and a few others, wondering if there was a way to interpret these prayers in a manner which reaffirmed a pride in being Jewish without putting down others while maintaining the traditional prayers which have been canonized in Orthodox and Conservative prayer books.  Also, from perhaps a more academic perspective, the notion of designation as a religious group, and an embrace of this designation, entails some sort of self-specification, in prayer, no? (Thought welcome!)  His main argument back, which I agree with theoretically, was that many of these prayers (a good example he brought is Shfoch Chamatcha, from the Passover seder) were written in a time when Jews were necessarily separatist and on the defensive, and that one must be attentive to a changed, modern attitude.  I'm not sure I can buy that as a strong enough answer to dispense with a traditional liturgy, though it doesn't seem he plans to do that at the moment anyway, and referenced rightly the notion that large-scale changes would occur only with a teshuva (joint Rabbinical statement about halacha, roughly) to that effect.   In any case, it was a very interesting discussion, and it great to get some more insight into the rabbi's practical religious interests and struggles.
After this discussion, I had my first day back at Hadassah (thus a day of teacher-->student-->teacher), where the music competitions seems to have wrought some sort of plague which kept half the students out of class today.  I have realized, though I don't want to play favorites, that the P4 kids (the first Hebrew-learners) are by far the most rewarding to teach--the group of girls who really try and are coming to read as well as some of the P7s are not only adorable but pride-inducing in their efforts.
Looking toward the weekend, this Shabbat will be a busy one--the AJWS Volunteer Summer group in Uganda (my alma mater, so to speak) is coming through tomorrow which will make for the most muzungus I've since since arrival.  Should definitely be a change, but it'll be great to meet some new people and hear some stories about my old village!

Another day, another community

Today was a vast expanse when I woke up--all three of my Hadassah classes were cancelled for the music competition, so I needed to find some other diverting activities to keep me to keep me occupied.
First, I took an extra shift at SK, teaching reading comprehension this time.  In eighty minutes, we got through about four paragraphs of one of those "world history" newspapers, which you may remember from your grade school days.  It was pretty frustrating, as I was working with S1 and the reading comprehension level, save for one or two exceptions, is pretty low.  Afterwards, I talked with Satte, who I've been teaching with since the beginning (who also happens to be the deputy headmaster) about ways to improve, including a possibility of introducing book reports using the short story books already owned by the school.  He seemed to think it was an interesting idea, so we'll see what happens!
After class, I decided to take another excursion to an outlying Jewish community.  Namanyoni (which is actually the name of the sub-county, not the village, but that is how it is referred to) is not so much outlying as neighboring Nabugoye, and it took me about 50 minutes to walk there.  Once there, I visited the home of Athalia, the sister of Gershom, J.J. et al.  She's the least seen of the siblings around Nabugoye as she usually attends the Namanyoni synagogue, only coming to Nabugoye for committee meetings, so it was nice to be able to spend some time with her.  She told me about traditional weddings here (average length: 9 hours) and her personal struggles as well as communal, religious ones, including the lack of a sefer torah (one should be coming from Nabugoye, but it hasn't made it yet).  She also showed me pictures from her daughters' bat mitzvah, which was a joint affair with several other girls from the community.  Bar and bat mitzvahs here, while preferably taking place at the traditional age, can actually take place when the boy or girl feels ready to read from the Torah and lead the service, which is often at least a few years later.  Thus, a bunch of girls, including two of Athalia's daughters, Rabbi Gershom's daughter and several others all had a joint affair.  She also told me about her life in Namanyoni, the crops she farms, the animals she's had over the years.  It was a nice, relaxing way to spend an afternoon.
After chatting with her for a while, two of her smallest daughters led me to the synagogue, which they jimmied open.  The building was very similar to Nabuogoye, somewhat surprising after the miniscule structures at Nasinye and Putti (though those are both being replaced).  On the walls were some entertaining, chalk written (presumably by children) transliterated Hebrew phrases, like "Shavua tova!"sic ("Good week!")  Inside the ark was one, miniature Torah scroll, waiting for a big brother from up the hill.

J.J., Part Deux

The second day of my Hadassah hiatus (music competition tomorrow!) brought some fun and exciting replacement activities.  In the morning, I spent some time with a group of Israeli women who came to visit and bake pita with the women of Nabugoye, and it was nice to get to flex my Hebrew muscles for the first time since the first-week Israeli girls left.  And the pita was delicious (accompanied by Nutella and honey--not your typical Nabugoye food!)

After spelling at SK, I made my way with another volunteer to the home of  J.J. Keki, community leader and co-op founder, to continue our conversation from several weeks back.  We went through a lot of the original story for the benefit of the other volunteer, with some fun added details along the way.  For instance during the conversation, J.J. showed us one of the original siddurim the Abayudaya had received before they learned Hebrew. One of the cool things about the siddur was the variation on the famed Friday night prayer Lecha Dodi which it includes, which now serves as the version that the Abayudaya sing every Friday night and can be found on their Grammy-nominated recording.  He also described in further detail his trip to Nairobi Hebrew Congregation in 1984, before the Abayudaya were really "discovered." The multi-day ordeal, which had J.J. in police stations and parks at night for lack of lodging fees, ended with the Nairobi rabbi refusing much help and suggesting they talk to the chief rabbi of England.  J.J., the rabbi and several others were eventually welcomed to the synagogue for some services (after several more years of trying) and it was there that two Americans, traveling in Nairobi, "discovered" them.  Their curiosity was peaked when they noticed Rabbi Gershom diligently reading the Hebrew at services, and when they found out his story, they brought it back to the U.S., where they contacted Jewish organizations left and right.  Kulanu, which still works with them today, was one of the few to respond positively to the call.  Another fascinating tidbit was the revelation that a copy of the book Semei Kakungulu (Abayudaya founding father) wrote, detailing the rules of his Judaism, still rested with the oldest living Abayudaya, who knew Kakungulu.  According to J.J., he's around 100 years old.  We're hoping to visit him sometime soon, and hear the stories only he can share and perhaps get an idea of what the Luganda book contains--and hopefully get a look at it as well!

After the fascinating talk, Maccabee, one of J.J.'s sons, led us the site of the "cave synagogue"--the first place of prayer established by Kakangulu in 1919.  The spot, which is essentially a very large rock overhang on a mountainside, had a few, barely-there, chalked magen david and minorot, but is otherwise unmarked.  It was there, and on top of the rock itself, that Kakungulu met, prayed and learned with his first followers.

My Time in the (other) Principal's Office...

...and the power's back! So a bit of a lengthier take on my discussion with Seth, SK principal--

We covered everything from high school discipline to Seth's 20 year (and counting) career as the villages Shochet, the one who performs the ritual slaughter of animals for consumption--he's currently the only one who can do cows!  As far as I can tell, these things are not related, no fear (sorry if that was too morbid for some!)

Among the more interesting notes on the educational end was his description of the caning that exists at SK and schools around the country, despite the illegality of the practice.  He said that often it is only threatened, but if the child submits it will not be carried out, and when it is carried out it is only a "few lashes." Parents will sometimes even request that their children be caned, believing that teacher's have stronger "law enforcement" power than they do. (As an interesting side note--a high school friend, sitting nearby as I write, said he wholeheartedly agrees with the caning policy.)  I'll admit, this one will require a little more pondering on my part--merely a cultural difference? Always unacceptable? I'm honestly not sure...

On the Jewish end, Seth told me about his time as a young teen on the kibbutz at Nabugoye, which he joined along with older brothers (Rabbi) Gershom, J.J. and Aaron (of previous blog fame) and sisters Yael and Athalia.  Tagging along at age 10, he helped with the farming, participated in the Luganda services (this was the post-Amin, pre-Hebrew days) and learned guitar from Gershom, which he now plays every week at  kabbalat shabbat. He was also the first to simply lay out a basic problem that has been clear to me since I arrived: being an observant Jew is expensive. This is true even in America, but in a place where basic needs are a struggle to meet, attempting to complete rituals and obligations, with all the objects, special practices and utensils they entail, seems nonsensical, even unrealistic.  Many of these are provided by outsiders, but then comes the million dollar question: is that the best direction of these donors' funds? Not sure there's a definite answer to this one either... 

Yet, while he relayed the struggles of Jewish life here, he also talked about the special mark it gave him and his co-religionists.  When he walks with a kippah or refuses non-kosher meat, he says, he gains the respect of his non-Jewish peers.

On a less technical note, Seth--being one of the community musicians and an owner of a guitar--also began teaching me to play his instrument, which I'm magnificently bad at so far.   I can't really feel my fingers from all the string-pressing, and can barely scratch out a C, F, and G, but I'm still psyched to "play" some more tomorrow!

Just got a whole post messed up and now have five minutes left of battery with no power.  One sentence summary: had a great interview with Seth and he taught me guitar!
More tomorrow!

A Branch and a Torn Limb: Outside the Nabugoye Bubble

Today was my first day exploring Jewish communities outside Nabugoye, giving me my first view of Jewish life in Uganda that isn't readily available to the Western tourist.

I first made my way to Nasinye, a small community of Abayudaya that has some lay leadership but looks to Gershom as their spiritual leader.  I talked mostly with Jacobo, who is the brother-in-law of Aaron (the Hadassah principal) who told me about the struggles of the community, its history in Nasinye and showed me its current, tiny, synagogue as well as the new, large one that is currently being constructed.  The community has almost 200 members, which, if they all showed up to services, would not fit in the current mud enclosure (built in 1994, a few feet away from the site of 1919 synagogue Kakungulu set there).  Jacobo told me that with many children dorming away at school (including Hadassah and SK) the numbers are usually much lower, though on holidays things can get pretty crowded.  Economically, the community members are struggling as there are not yet enough opportunities in community businesses (like the clinic, guest house, travel company, co-op) for Abayudaya to take advantage of when they graduate from university and join the work force.

From Nasinye, I travelled on to Putti.  Putti is an interesting case among the Abayudaya community.  They officially broke off from the other Abayudaya communities in 2003 because of their desire to work toward an Orthodox conversion in contrast to their Conservative friends and family.  They set up their hub at Putti, where their synagogue does not allow women to participate in the service and does not say any prayers in Luganda (though they can give divrei torah), as per current, mainstream Orthodox practice.  Their current synagogue does not contain a mechitza (or separation) between men and women, though they sit separately--the women on a platform--but I was told that their new synagogue would have such a partition.  The main goal of the move, as it was described to me, was to join a branch and gain a conversion that would be recognized by all Jews, most particularly the rabbinate of the State of Israel, which only recognizes Orthodox conversions. (They fully recognize the fact that they are still learning and have not converted, and thus are not yet, technically, Jewish.) Due to their break-off, however, they have lost access to many of the funds and resources that are part of the Abayudaya fund and dispensed by their committee, including those that support many students through primary and secondary (often at Hadassah and SK) and even university.  Because of this most of their children do not attend the Jewish schools, but are rather educated in Hebrew and Judaic studies by the village youth during their public school breaks, for about three weeks out of every month break. During this time the kids, starting at Primary 4, live on the compound which houses Enosh--the spiritual leader--his family, a synagogue and a library, among other structures.  There are other organizations which provide some support to the Putti, and there were several signs of this on their compound, including the "Challah Project," which helps them bake challah for Shabbat, and "Project Hazan," which provides chickens to raise and sell to support community activities.    

The most notable current event in Putti was the recent offer of Rabbi Riskin, the spiritual leader of Efrat, Israel, to have two young community members learn for a year at his Yeshiva in Israel beginning this September, after which they would  (hopefully) convert and go back to teach their community.  Rabbi Riskin visited the community a little over a month ago, after the previous visit of two other rabbis, and on  his short visit also managed to teach them how to shecht (ritually kill) chickens, which they have now started doing for the first time (before this, some had never tasted meat). 

As a sidenote, despite the tension between the communities, Enosh seems to have a strong, familial relationship with Gershom and his brothers--which makes sense, because they are his uncles.

There are many more details to share, but this is getting long already, so I will leave it at that (and maybe continue tomorrow)! I am considering spending a Shabbat at Putti, as I was invited to, and will hopefully decide soon whether this seems like an attractive option.  

A Fourth Shabbat of Muzungus and Mulling

This Shabbat is my fourth here, and it certainly has begun to feel like home.  At Friday night services, Rabbi Gershom thanked the long list of muzungu guests who came in for Shabbat and at the end he turned to me: "But Nava, you're not a muzungu!" A proud moment indeed.
Dinner at the rabbi's was relaxing and cozy. Probably the most interesting moment came at the end, when we came to Grace after Meals (the traditional blessing said upon completing a meal with bread) and he and his wife chanted an abbreviated version I had not heard before, one that was different even than the one included in the USY birconim (blessing books) we were using.  The rabbi explained that his version included all of the blessings one was required to say by halacha after a meal, though I did not get to hear (and will hopefully find out later) if he came up with this version himself and how he happened upon it.
It was also certainly a different experience being here with such a large group of guests, everyone who passed through here this weekend was fascinating, from a family with two young kids who've been traveling for 6 months, to a woman from a non-profit hoping to install a digital library center here, to an NGO worker who'd been based in Kampala and South Sudan for 6 years. It is amazing to hear about people's travels and how connected they felt to this place simply because they are Jewish. The ability and will of Jews to find other Jews even in eastern Uganda is impressive and in some ways quite inspiring.

This week I began thinking a lot about classification, which is perhaps an issue I've posited before, but which has only proved more intriguing to be as time goes on.  It is perhaps a moot question, as this community and its cultural, geographical and socioeconomic statuses are quite unique in the Jewish world.  But the fact remains that the community defines itself strongly as Conservative, why-ever that maybe.  Yet within the gates of the Nabugoye hill compound, home to several families, the synagogue and the guest house, there is a Meah Shearim-like feel imposed on Shabbat, as cars are not allowed inside and the public use of electronics and fire is strongly disfavored.  Yet there is clearly a variation of practice among actual community members (much like the American Conservative movement, I suppose) in terms of use of these things, as well as money, writing utensils, etc.  Theologically, I am still a bit lost--one bit that threw me for a loop included the rabbi's quite lengthy discussion of resurrection last week, in which he described the process of the dead "rolling under ground to Israel"at the end of days.  This wasn't a belief I necessarily associated with mainstream Conservative thought, but again, I'm curious to find out what's behind it, and what kind of theology (if any?) is being promoted in this community.  Hopefully I'll be able to discover more soon!
Tomorrow I'm hoping to visit the village of Putti, the Orthodox breakoff community, so to speak (yes, there's a breakoff--that's how you know they're Jewish!) From what I hear, it should be a very interesting contrast!

Pre-Shabbat notes!

A quick pre-Shabbat post, with list-utilizing efficiency.
1) Yesterday, in addition to the bar mitzvah, was a "swearing in ceremony" at SK for the prefects (of which our friend Samson is one).  A very interesting vestige of British colonialism, it was probably one of the few such ceremonies which had the option of a)Bible b)quran and c)Birnbaum translation of the Torah.  And after which the Head Boy thanked "Adon-ai."
2) Friday seems to be a day for exploring my domestic side--today I joined some of the rabbis young nieces in bracelet making (pics when I return!) It will hopefully be sold with the ones they and other women in the community make to raise money.
3)SO MANY MUZUNGUS came in today! Up until now the numbers had been increasing, but only gradually (and the bar mitzvah family's leaving tomorrow).  About ten swooped in today, and I was surprised how strongly it struck me--while I'd always appreciated not being the only one, so many was a bit of a culture shock.
4)Tonight I'll be having dinner at the rabbis along with a few of the other muzungus--should be a fun and different experience!
Shabbat Shalom!

BAR MITZVAH (AbayudayAmerican style)

I am fairly certain I will never attend another Bar Mitzvah quite like this one.
Huge bags of rice and many kilos of metoke had been in preparation since yesterday, and the cooking began at 6:30 AM this morning.  At 8, I headed over to the Rabbi's to help his wife Tzipporah make 2 of her unique challahs, and she already had one bowl of dough rising when I got there, and gave me another to do.  The Hill was abuzz, a tent set up by the synagogue, filled with chairs.  The bimah had been moved outside.  Huge speakers had been set up, extension cords coming from every which way to make the proper connections.  So far, not sooo different from your average American affair (though I can guarantee the equipment was probably a little less fancy, and the price tag significantly lower).

The service began at 10 AM.   It was punctuated by Lugandan psalms led by J.J. and accompanied by the guitar of J.J.'s son, Maccabee.  (I got some great video footage and photos of a bunch of them--if anyone's interested let me know when I return to a stable internet connection!)  When the Torah was brought out and returned, there was a festive procession to the synagogue's Ark.  With the somewhat untraditional service, the classic hallmarks of the American bar mitzvah still found their place, in an amusing melding of cultural traditions: The bar mitzvah boy (an American, for those who haven't been following) read the weekday portion, after which both he and his parents spoke and the service concluded.  Then, after water was passed around for washing, Tzipporah and I brought out the two challahs, which the parents cut and which we passed out to the 200+ assembled--the pieces were a bit small.  But it was, happily, just as delicious as Friday's!
Following the challah, the gargantuan pots of food were brought out, and all present were served--those included members of the community, school children and others from the area who had heard about the festivities and come for some merry making and a good meal. (Somewhat awkwardly, those staying at the guest house had separate food set up, but I believe the extras were also distributed to guests.) As the music blared from the speakers, people conversed and ate, and when the food was defeated (it took about 20 minutes for it to go), the tent and chairs were moved and a "dance floor" cleared for what was to be the bulk of the day's celebration.  From about noon until 7 the music did not cease, and many people (mostly kids) remained dancing, with few breaks for the entirety of the afternoon and evening.  If you've traveled to Sub-Saharan Africa, this may go without saying, but Ugandans (and others, judging by the other African nations represented today) far outstrip their American peers in the dancing arena.  I had several girls showing me movements and telling me "they're easy"--and I could not even begin to replicate them. When they asked me to demonstrate a move, I mostly flapped my arms around and made goofy faces.  I'd give myself an A for originality, and around a D for skill.
Needless to say, it was not quite like the Western affairs I was used to, despite the sprinkling of American tradition.  The two schools on Nabugoye Hill--a government primary and SK secondary--both cancelled school.  A village+  took off from work and school to celebrate and boogie for 7 hours.  And in lieu of Bar Mitzvah gifts, a boy from Florida requested donations to a Ugandan clinic, and came to its founders to celebrate this milestone.
Atypical, I would say.

One more person, one less goat (QUEASY BE WARNED)

Today...was long.
School was school. I missed my first class helping Aaron with the seemingly interminable visa process, which is now, thankfully, up to the interview stage.  The second and third lessons included the regular mix of frustration and small victories, and the few ambitious girls in the front row continue to drive me forward in my attempt to teach a third language in a second.  Today also included the arrival of another volunteer, which brought the muzungu count to 6.  A big change from two weeks of just a pair of us!  Fun fact: All three lone travelers here are current or former religion majors.

Preparations were also under full swing for tomorrow's bar mitzvah--I spent a good hour with at least ten community members and guests poring over pans of rice, removing small pebbles and pieces of grass before the massive quantities will be cooked and served to the community.

Probably the most fascinating part of the day, however, was my first ever witnessing of the shechita (ritual slaughter) done here.  There are a few community members trained to ritually slaughter goats (more for chickens, an apparently easier task), knowledge gained from rabbis who've visited the community and Rabbi Gershom, who learned to shecht while training in the U.S.  The killing is done underneath a tree in a leafy area--better to soak up the blood--with one swift cut (with specified parameters as to they sharpness and quality of the knife, the required blessing, etc.) and the animal is held down as it bleeds out, after which it is hung by its legs from a tree and skinned and emptied.  Various organs (including the lungs) are checked to make sure they are not blemished in a way that would make the animal treif (simply put, not kosher), and after the meat is separated it is salted.  Shortly thereafter, it is roasted, several feet away from where it was killed.  Cooking right away is the safest way to ensure the animal is edible, as refrigeration is limited and keeping a dead animal around, as many market stalls do, does not do wonders for quality.  The whole process, from knife to spit, takes about an hour!

To be honest, the process was a lot less gruesome and disturbing then I expected.  While I have sometimes half-jokingly called myself an "aspiring vegetarian," and while I know that kosher does not in any way mean humane, this particular process, from the way the goat was raised (free to graze where it pleased and on what it pleased) to the killing itself seemed to be the most ethical way one could use an animal for food.  Though I'm not eating the meat here, my current thoughts lead me to believe that if animals were kept and ritually slaughtered this way in a marketable fashion in the U.S., that would make me feel a lot less guilty about the hamburgers I can't seem to give up.

Habari zako!

...means: "How are you?" in Swahili!
This is one of the five pages of Swahili words I picked up from a few of the Semei Kakungulu (secondary school) girls today after a visit to the hostel/dorm on the high school campus where some of them live.  The girls who taught me were a mixture of those from Nairobi, Kenya, who speak it as their mother tongue, and other girls who had picked it up from interacting with the Kenyan students.  Swahili is spoken widely in Kenya and used in schools there, but in Uganda it is mainly used as the language of the military, with local languages serving as the mother tongue of most and English as the language of education.

There is a small but solid number of students from Kenya at SK--some Jewish, some not--who have come over to be part of the community  and others who have come simply for a better education.  I wasn't exactly clear on how all of them found this school, but I should soon find out--the girls' hostel is a lot of fun so I'll definitely go back, and a few of them have already happily agreed to be interviewed!
I took my second peek into a yeshiva class this morning, wherein we discussed this week's Torah portion, Balak.  It was a lively discussion (if somewhat basic) that was also joined by the bar mitvah family.  Unfortunately, it was cut short as the rabbi is embroiled once again in the final stages of his election-contesting court case.

Otherwise, the day proved standard--some more spelling, more Hebrew (we soldier on with the Hebrew months, which are taking longer than I had anticipated).  On my way home from Hadassah, it started pouring, and as is standard procedure in the village, I ducked under the nearest awning, to the delight of some wide-eyed kids who couldn't get enough of a muzungu.  The mother eventually realized I was there and invited me in, and we had a nice get-to-know-you chat before the sun came out and I made my way home.

Makeup Post--Power Outage!

Hi--I've actually got to go teach in a few minutes, but here's a quick update on yesterday (no post due to an untimely power outage and not enough juice in my laptop).
Teaching was regular, with spelling perhaps being a bit more boring than usual--but we're working with smaller groups now, which is good because the kids who come seem to benefit a lot more and will hopefully find these skills useful.
In addition to spelling and Hebrew (we continued the Hebrew months with P6 yesterday!) I talked with Joseph, an elder man for the community who gave me a bit of a taste of how Jewish life has changed.  It was really great to talk to an active but more "regular" member of the community--he's the community accountant, though was previously trained (at age 14!) as a mechanic.  He told me about life under Amin, where they would gather a few in a room in a house and pray completely in Luganda, saying psalms and biblical passages such as that from Haazinu.  (The Torah portion of Haazinu begins with verses in a poem-like structure, which made it a logical choice for chanting.)  Joseph sang a little bit of it for me, which was a little hard to catch but still very cool to hear.  He also related the struggles of intermarriage which I had heard from others and which remains one of the communities biggest religious issues.
More later!

Road Trip!

Today marked a bit of a break from my routine and research, as I ventured away from Nabugoye and the Mbale area to visit Ramogi, the village I lived in last year as an AJWS volunteer.  Going back was an amazing and surreal experience--from meeting this year's Volunteer Summer group to reuniting with old friends, returning to a place and a community I thought I'd never see again was quite the experience.  It also really made me appreciate the ability I've had to get to know two very different groups of people, and made me appreciate each of them in very different ways.  I worked with some amazing individuals last summer, and having spent more time in Uganda now, in a different environment, I am able to see how truly unique some of these people are.
After I returned home from the trip, beat and caked in dirt, I met the family who's holding their son's bar mitzvah here on Thursday.  Three whole muzungus (the word used for white foreigners all over Africa) from south Florida was certainly a change, and it was interesting to here about their decision to make a bar mitzvah here and forgo the fancy U.S. party.  Mostly, though, just the feeling of having a solid group of Americans here after a few weeks of quiet brings an interesting change in dynamic, and I'm curious how this will affect the coming week (though also excited for Thursday's affair!)

Shabbat Numba Three/Ghana Jews!

My third Shabbat here...I can't believe it's been almost three weeks since I left New Jersey!  It's amazing how much I continue to learn every day, and how comfortable I've become here.
This Shabbat proved just as fascinating (but still relaxing) as my first two.
First off, the challah turned out quite delicious (thank you, thank you), despite the minimal rising.  Naavah grabbed a huge chunk--after everyone had gotten some first, of course--and insisted that we eat it together, as co-bakers.  She's five, by the way.
I also talked to Alex, a Jew from Ghana who is one of the rabbi's international students, about the story of his community.  While he's still researching the history, a task he's taken on as he tries to revive it, he gave me an outline which was already intriguing.  He said that about 150 years ago, there was a tribal king which wanted people to worship on Saturdays, keep kosher and observe various other Jewish laws.  He's unsure where these practices were from and when they date from--whether these may be Jews who came to Ghana long ago, or influenced by others--he's still trying to find out!  In any case, when Christian missionaries came in, they offered people money and other goods to convert to Christianity, and eventually most were convinced, including the king, while some just remained with little religion.  The practices had essentially been lost until 1974, when a man Alex referred to as the "Founder" brought back practices according to the Hebrew Bible, the only text which they had to turn to.  They kept up these practices until 1991, when the founder died, but following his death the practices fell into neglect once again.  Alex's brother convinced him to revive the old ways, and after much prayer, a dream, and some revelatory reading of passages in Jeremiah, he decided to listen to his brother and adopt Judaism as a true faith.  They've since formed a synagogue of about 100 people and have made contact with some of the same American groups as the Abayudaya, and Alex is hoping to go back to his community and teach them Hebrew and the Torah he has learned here.
This story and Shabbat in general also got me thinking about the theology of the Jews here and what has created it--factors ranging from the backgrounds of its spiritual leader(s) to the educational system here, a system which fosters little if any abstract thought.  And because it is developing largely in isolation, there are inevitably differences from communities which, though they may be defined by certain beliefs, are still in conversation or at least within earshot of other theological strands. I'm still thinking about these issues, though it really increases my sense of this community as being sort of a grafted leaf of Judaism--and it is now to be seen how it grows on very different tree.
In other news: tomorrow, there is a family coming from Florida who will be celebrating their son's bar mitzvah here on Thursday with a service and a big party for the whole community.  It should be quite an interesting affair!
Also tomorrow--I'm heading on a trip down memory lane--to Ramogi, the village I lived in last year. As luck would have it, Aaron is going to Tororo, the nearest city to Ramogi, and he's offered to take me, so I can't wait to visit old friends and say hi to this year's AJWS group!
Shavua tov!