The grandest Grand Opening!

     My alarm screamed at me just moments after I went to sleep the night before. Or at least that's how it felt. The five hours of sleep I was wakened from surely weren't enough. That's three hours less than I prefer. Need actually. I must have accumulated at least 20 plus hours of sleep deficit over the last seven days. When I arrive home in the states, I know that I will catch up, and only then. One doesn't go to Africa to catch up on sleep.

     The plan was to leave Muyenga Hill by 6:30 am (which I knew from experience meant by 8am Africa time) and get to school to make sure everything was in place before the grand opening that started with the arrival of the Queen at 9am. I wondered if she would go by clock or Africa time. Though we all had special clothes for the occasion we planned to change after the morning's last minute work. A suitcase went with us.

     Fifteen minutes into the ride to school Patrick realized he forgot the programs. He took the programs home the night before to fold them. So back we went, adding thirty minutes onto our morning commute.

    The school was quietly humming with last minute preparation. Mukumbwa Isaac, a graduate of Brain Tree and secondary school scholarship recipient was busy securing a school registration banner over the stage. Chairs were set and aligned under the 'dignitary' tent, the general audience tent, and the royal tent. Special grass was strewn along the path the Queen would walk. The drums were placed in ready position. Children were dressed in traditional clothes. The Culture Center was swept a last time. On the borrowed shelf from Ssebusolo was the DVD player. I loaded the movie 'War Dance' and pressed start. African books I had brought from home (ordered through amazon.com) were displayed along with the folk tales bought from a publisher in Kampala.  In between everyone's anxiety and work (was I the only one that was anxious?) time was allocated to properly greet all those on the school grounds. "Hello, How are you?", "I'm fine. How are you?"

    Though the ceiling was not finished, though there were empty spaces on the display boards that would eventually be filled, though seats for sitting to read the books or watch the movie were absent, the place looked amazing. We really did a great job.

    After fussing about the Culture Center this one last time, and after everyone left, I knelt inside the traditional shrine. I said a few prayers of gratitude and guidance, then placed the stone I brought from my garden at home, a small piece of tobacco, and a few shilling coins into the offering basket. 

   When there was nothing more we could do at school, we rushed over to Ssebusolo Michael's house. He is the son of the Mukasa's, a school director, lives right next door (it was in his garage in 1994 where Brain Tree first started with four nursery students), and fortunately for all the women, an expert at dressing women in traditional clothes.

     My children and I were hot and sweaty, already dirty from the dust that is ever swirling around in the dry season. Better that than mosquitoes. I pulled out the traditional garment that Jjajja Nanjego gave me the day before. It's called a half basuti or kikoye (chee-koy-ay). I was hesitant to wear it; I'm way too skinny to look like anything other than a bolt of cloth from the fabric store. My upper body would be exposed and I desperately needed a tan. I had planned to wear a dress of my mother's but in honor of Ugandan culture I replaced my desire with humility and surrender. My mom would approve. Jjajja Nanjego would be pleased. 

     I had no idea how to wear the thing.

    Ssebusolo came to my rescue. And as I would learn, he came to the rescue of all the other women dressing in his house.  First I put on a long slip. Michael took the wrap I had worn as a skirt that morning and wrapped it around my torso. Then he found one of his wife's, and wrapped that around me too. He stepped out of the room again for just a moment and came back with a neck tie. He fashioned that into an undergarment belt to hold up the two large pieces of fabric and slip that insulated me from the outside world. Then he took the kikoye and started to wrap that around me too. It was like a flat twin bed sheet made out of a fabric with the heaviness of denim. Thank goodness Martha brought safety pins because apparently they are integral to a woman's traditional dress (what did they use in the 'old' days?). This garment was strapless, sleaveless, and heavy. If those safety pins gave way, well, I didn't want to think about that. 

     By the time Michael was finished dressing me, everyone was oohing and aahing.

"Madam Lori, you look smart."

     I felt kind of stupid. I stood there barely able to move, encased with ten pounds of fabric. It was like a had a topless floor length parka on in an equatorial steam room. The top half of me looked out of place, like a bleached white sock in a load of dark laundry.With all the fabric Michael wrapped around me, I actually looked like I had some curves. I think everyone was genuine when they told me I looked great. Great but really hot. I was grateful for the strong breeze.

     "Madam Director, the tent blew off the stage." 

     For just a nanosecond Martha's cool demeanor dipped. Just a nanosecond. OK then, the stage would be open air. The early morning thunder didn't bring any rain so it would be ok. There was no time for fixing anything. The show was about to start. The Queen about to arrive. Michael finished dressing all the women and we  were off.

     In small constricted steps I walked back to school. Martha followed and she told me that she  received a call from the Queen's people: she was minutes from the gate.

     "Everyone in position!"

     I wasn't sure what my position was so I just squeezed into one of the sides of the line up. Then I was told that I was to stay with Martha. Martha would be the one to be the official greeter and guide. I didn't think it possible, but I ran. I ran to the head of the greeting line where Martha was standing. 


      The Queen came exactly at 9am.

     Everyone started clapping and chanting. I only clapped since I didn't know the chant. The Queen stepped out of her four wheel drive carriage and walked through the school gate. She was dressed in a yellow and green basuti and wore a large and genuine smile. She was handed a bouquet of flowers from a very grateful student. The little girl knelt according to tradition. 

     The Queen, her party, guards and police (lots of people with big weapons) walked through the throngs of greeters. She was led around to the four regional huts and stopped to watch all the demonstrations inside. The Queen stepped inside the northern region hut and asked the students questions. Her daughter, the princess, was right by her side.

     After the regional huts, the Queen walked through a receiving line of the younger students all dressed in traditional clothing. The ribbon to the Culture Center was cut, the visitor book signed, the commemorating plaque unveiled (mispellings and all), and then she toured the Culture Center. She was impressed! She was surprised at how beautiful and well stocked and documented it was! I'm certain she loved Carolynne's beautiful painted ceiling decorations. Our efforts were royally appreciated.


    The Queen was then led to the library. We were sure she'd be impressed with a Ugandan primary school with a library. We were not wrong. 

   Time for the school concert.  The concert started with anthems. The Ugandan national anthem, the school anthem, even the Shipley School's anthem.The children sang and danced songs from all four regions. The head girl from P5 spoke eloquently to the Queen. 

     "She speaks perfect English", the Queen said to Mrs Mukasa.

     I sat right behind them so I read her lips.

    Martha, Michael Sssebusolo, Annet Lubowa, and I represented all the directors. When it was our turn to speak, we walked to the front of the stage. Michael and I spoke. 

    I thanked the Queen for making our special day even more magnificent than we could have imagined. I spoke to the crowd and said that we need to honor our ancestors, listen to our elders, be a community based on trust, and raise our children with love. I introduced my children and told the Queen how grateful we would be if she would accept our gift; the friendship bowl from Pennsylvania.

     I was told the Queen never personally accepts gifts; her people do that for her. On this day Carolynne and Patrick walked right up to her and held out the bowl and the Queen reached for it and thanked them. They didn't follow tradition by kneeling. I don't think anyone told them about that but Carolynne did do a little curtsy, and Patrick put one arm around his back, the other across his front waste and bowed. Very debonaire and I guess appropriate for two American kids in Africa.  

    When it was time for the Queen to speak, she opened with the lines I wrote and then proceeded to use about 30% of what I had written for her. She also spoke the words that had been written by her staff. That was about another 30%. The rest she spoke from her heart. She was very passionate about respecting culture, all cultures. She applauded our efforts and the Culture Center. The Queen was very pleased that a school that started with four nursery students in a garage had grown to be a premier primary school in Uganda. She even turned back to look at Agnes Mukasa and asked "Is this true?". She was so impressed that she implored the village of Kyanja to support Brain Tree and suggested that other schools model themselves after Brain Tree.


  Sometime during the festivities, our first Brain Tree graduates who also finished secondary school with scholarships from the Shipley School, met the Queen. They knelt before her as Agnes Mukasa explained to the Queen that these were our very first students. They had made it all the way through school, a few of them studying now in university. Nakito Rosemary, an orphan needed financial aid. The Queen said she would try to get her into the royal university. 

   After the concert the Queen cut our celebratory cake which was designed like a tradition drum. Vanilla. It tasted good.


    The last Queenly act was to plant a tree in the front courtyard of the school.  After the planting, on the way to her royal vehicle, she gifted us with photo opportunities. And we took them.

     All of us Directors were proud. All of our hard work and stress the last weeks, worth it, forgotten, celebrated. The Queen venerated us, our work, our school, and students with the highest respect and appreciation. She could not have loved us any better, and with good reason. Brain Tree is an amazing school. We take care of orphans and provide all of our students with a good education. We love our kids.  We have nice classrooms, teacher housing, clean dormitories, a brand new kitchen, an amazing library, and a one of a kind culture center. Soon we'll have an eating pavilion and a computer lab, at least that is our intention and with the help from our friends we'll achieve these goals. And one day, one day soon, we'll be self-sustainable. Our ultimate goal.

    When we saw ourselves on the news that night, we all screamed. I think I was the loudest. And we made the newspaper too. We watched the news on two stations, both in Luganda. My first time on TV, in Africa no less. The 9pm news would be in English so I couldn't wait. I didn't have to. About 8:30pm the electric went off and didn't come back on till after 10. The next day I heard from Walukhu that the news at 9pm showed me speaking. The words they chose to play from my speech were "Let us honor those who came before us, our ancestors."  I think the ancestors are happy about that. Me too.


    Today was the grandest Grand Opening!