Nick and Tessa in Kisiizi

NEW PHOTOS YAY from Jerusalem…
Ahoy beloved friends from home, those harking from the “Island nation” as foreigners like to call it. We have now left Uganda and are dropping in on a few places on the way (loosely on the way) home.

 We are pleased to inform you that all the money donated to Kisiizi hospital through us ($1200 NZ) has been passed on. Half of it has been given to general hospital funds, most of which goes toward paying the beautiful people we befriended (a monthly financial struggle). The other half was given to the Good Samaritan Fund, which pays the bills for those who have no money at all.

Its not bittersweet to be leaving, its just sad. I know Tessa is with me when I say we would have stayed longer. (We do love you guys, really :p). We did not feel we gave anything up, or sacrificed anything living here in Kisiizi. Of course there were new challenges and hard times, but the real challenges here are for the locals, not us. One Ugandan woman who had been to New Zealand remarked bluntly, “In New Zealand, people might jump of a bridge if their boyfriend dumped them, here people are more resilient to problems, they get on with it”

*Irrelevant rant begins*. Apparently we have a shortage of doctors in New Zealand. Before I came here I believed it. What we mean is we have a shortage of doctors to keep up our incredible first world health standards. What we should be complaining about in New Zealand (at least a little) is the shortage of doctors in Uganda. Is our country more important? I am left wondering why we complain so much about a 1 year waiting list for some life changing operation, e.g. a hip replacement, that is not even available in Uganda. What we done about this I’m not sure, but its not right.  *Irrelevant rant ends*

Leaving is an experience in itself, as it is an important part of the culture to make sure you say goodbye to everyone.

 I went across the ponds to see the “Ruchiga warriors” I taught the Haka earlier. I looked forward to seeing the nursing students, for the last time, but was also slightly apprehensive, as I was expecting some requests. “Can you sponsor me to come to your country” and “Can you sponsor my studies” are common as well as the heart shattering “I cant afford to send my kids to school, can you help?” As you can imagine these requests are difficult to manage. On arrival to the nursing school though, I was met by my friend Martin, who after talking for a few minutes said: “I’m sorry we couldn’t manage to get something together for you to remember us by”. This lightened my heart in a place where seemingly good relationships are more often than not made awkward by requests for money. Its’ hard to describe how a new relationship instantly changes after someone has asked you for money. Its not nice. I left the nursing school sad to leave but content having left them with my e-mail address, even though they don’t have e-mails yet… I’ll leave you with a couple of Martin’s comments

“Only 4 million in New Zealand. Ha, obviously not having enough kids. You should bring 50 Ugandans over there and in a few generations they will fill the country”

“You are trying to kill all those animals to protect your trees? Why aren’t they all dead yet? See these boys playing football here, just give them all a panga (machete like knives) and take them to your country and I guarantee you there will be no animals left.”