Thank you so much to all of the students who participated, and all the parents who supported us, as well as to all our hosts and friends in Uganda. Don't forget to keep taking those malaria pills with breakfast for the next week.
But, not quite over yet. Remember that this was about a cultural exchange and that by being selected you take responsibility for disseminating to the wider Weald community so that we can continue to develop and extend our connection and collaboration with both Namilyango College and Hands for Hope. We shall be looking to collect together the artefacts that you have been working on over the next fortnight. The idea is to capture something of the essence of the trip. This could be photographic, video, writing, audio, anything at all. (It would be nice to have at least a couple of 'letters to self' that we worked in our writing sessions.) We only asked that is is edited and ready to share.
I have included the poem that I wrote for the final Morning Parade below, and Mr Sladden and I are working on a photo book, a copy of which will be sent to Namilyango College.
So, before the memories have a change to fade, have a go!
Ugandan Magic
Before we left for Uganda I went to an exhibition at the British Library where one of the artefacts on display was a thirteenth century manuscript that was the first known text to include the word 'abracadabra'. It caught my eye because it was actually a charm to ward off malaria. The user had to write the word out on successive lines losing a single letter each time, and wear it in an amulet round your neck:
ABRACADABRA
BRABADABRA
RACADABRA
ACADABRA
CADABRA
ADABRA
DABRA
ABRA
BRA
RA
A
I feel a little safer taking the pills, myself, but nevertheless it inspired my verse:
Abracadabra:
Airborne we soar above snowy Alpen peaks,
cross time zones consuming American films
and plunge into red African earth beneath.
Bracadabra:
Bold sun rises on Nalubaale
Giant and heavy on lapping waters.
Mists clear revealing a bountiful new day.
Racadabra:
Raw time itself splits its haemic husk.
Three hours different from home but what's an hour?
Here they bend to whim from dawn till dusk.
Acadbra:
Avocado grows to size of melon,
air raid siren signals morning prep,
goats graze on Wembley Stadium.
Cadabra:
Colour dances every blink;
green hilltops, red roads, blue skies,
Black cormorants rainbow-inked.
Adabra:
A small pill to prevent
Malaria's advent;
no spell-scrolled amulet.
Dabra:
Dancing new tempos,
silent applause: ssssss,
Weebale nnyo.
Abra:
Acrid tasting
Ajon, malwa,
Daylight wasting.
Bra:
Heat within,
sun darkens
paler skin.
Ra:
Hear it.
Loud now:
Drum beat.
A
spell
is
cast.
Theresa Gooda
February 2018
