Achieng in the Rain

My African name is Achieng, it loosely means sunshine. All children are given one common surname along with their unique individual name in Eastern Africa, and as I became acquainted with the culture, I was soon honored with Achieng for my love of the African Sun. In Amor Village, Uganda I am known as Sammy Achieng Fiegel, or Auntie Sammy. There is truly nothing as magical and majestic as watching the sunset over the Eastern plains of Africa. It is a giant ball of orange, and coral, golden yellow, and burning bush red that seems to cover the entire horizon as it slowly sets below the Baobab trees. Every evening I found myself in awe of this daily transition from day to night, and I would watch calmly and patiently as the sun set below the water valley of Amor. And so because my African family thought I was a bit crazy for this, as of course for them it is simply the sun which normally sets bold and bright and brilliant across the land, they gave me my name, Achieng.

Not many people have the opportunity to travel to Africa. I have been blessed to have travelled there not just once, but twice, and hopefully soon to be a third time. Once you experience the TRUTH and LIFE of Uganda, it compels you forever. My heart lives there and will always be there.

There are few moments in life that stay with you forever- every sight, every sound, every feeling of that moment, wrapped into one visual image that when you revisit that image in your mind, you feel a wave of utter joy and despair all at once- joy for the heartfelt remembrance, and deep despair for the reality that it will never come again. For me, it was the day it suddenly poured down rain, in a rural bush village, atop a vast hill, on a crowded fútbol field, with a hundred screaming children. It was on a trip, and on a day, when my life at that time was broken and my heart was in need of healing. It was the rain that made me new.

The best part of both of these experiences- the sunsets and the futbol field rain, two experiences years apart, great distances apart, a lifetime it seemed for me in between these memories, is that one informed the other and they both bring me here today to tell the story of the latest undertaking I have begun… to build a well in Amor Village, Uganda and name it after my late father, Petey.

After my first trip to Africa, I was able to see firsthand the work of an amazing organization called Fields of Life. The soccer field was home to one of the sites that Fields of Life was supporting, a village that they had built a flourishing school in, employing local teachers, training local staff, funding sponsorships for children. The Mount Everest Primary School in Kitandwe, Uganda was opened in March 2009 after an honored friend of mine, Ian Taylor, summated Mount Everest to raise enough to officially open the school with Fields of Life. When I visited in 2011, we were graciously greeted with music, love, laughter, hope and most importantly a soccer match. And so, on a hot afternoon towards the end of dry season in Eastern Uganda with no signs of rain and no rain in months, we, the outnumbered Mzungus (the Bantu language’s endearing name for White people) played against the school children. As we ran barefoot in the rugged bush over rocks and pot holes and bugs, we laughed and fell, and chased the ball through the field doing our best to keep up. And as we laughed and panted from exhaustion, we were having so much fun that we didn’t seem to notice the ominous clouds rolling in. And all at once, the rain came down.

Yes, I know there is a song about the African rains, as yes I know the idea of rain coming down in Africa seems cliché and cheesy, but there is no memory more joyful that I have than this very moment on the field in the pouring rain in Africa. We all stopped in disbelief, and as the shock wore off the squeals and elated screams ensued, and before long, us Mzungus and the children were smushed into a big, dirty, wet, bundled mess huddled together jumping in unison, giving body-shaking thanks to the rain and to the heavens.

After my trip to Uganda, I became a dedicated follower and supporter of Fields of Life. The organization currently works in Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Kenya, Democratic Republic of Congo and South Sudan partnering in providing sustainable community development through education, water, and enterprise. I now sit on the newly instated USA Board for the organization- working to create more opportunities and partnerships here in the US.

A few months after my Dad died in the summer of 2016, I stumbled across an opportunity to get back to Uganda, and this time I would be merging my career with my passion. I was selected to be a part of a two person team to travel to Amor Village in Uganda, and support children and women through empowerment Art Therapy groups. The opportunity was a dream come true, and little did I know that after this visit my heart and my dad’s heart would find a permanent home.

This trip to Amor Village was truly one of lifetime. I lived in the village alongside the children with their giggles and songs and games, the matriarchs of Pearl Community Empowerment Foundation who support the village through agriculture, community building, and school expansion, and also the free roaming chickens, the roosters who woke me in the mornings, the cows that strolled across the fields to the valley every day, and the pigs that trotted about with their babies. I spent my days using Art Therapy to encourage communication, collaboration, camaraderie, a sense of hope and accomplishment, connection, and compassion. For many of the adults, it was the first time they had written anything, used paint, and cried with eachother. For the girls, it was the first time they opened up or spoken in front of a group, the first time they shared their feelings out loud. For me, it was everything. It was moving, emotional, hard, things would get off track due to language barriers, things would change and morph from our original idea, but we all moved together and we learned to be vulnerable in our similarities. We huddled together in a group hug at the end of each session and we’d sing and laugh in the hot African sun.

I spent my evenings playing games I didn’t understand, and singing songs I didn’t know with the children until my feet were brown with dirt and my shoulders were burnt from the sun. I was welcomed to dinner over the spitfire each night where we talked about our different lives and laughed about the funny things white people do. I felt at home. I felt my Dad everywhere, his love guiding my thoughts, my words, my relationships and I felt him in the strangers’ hugs and smiles that soon became my lifelong friends.

Both times in Africa I witnessed the scarcity, barrenness, and harshness of its dry season. In the bush and villages, water is what brings life and what gambles with death. Access to water, and clean water, is rare and is never guaranteed. I visited the valley water holes where villagers walk miles to everyday and gather the minimal water that comes out of the ground in order to merely survive each week of the lengthy and slow season.

A borehole well would penetrate the ground and allow for greater depth and a constant, clean, and reliable supply of water. My dream is to build a borehole for the village of Amor and the people who became my family. Fields of Life has agreed to build this well if I can raise the ≈$10,000 it costs to make that happen.

The connection of my two experiences is obvious, as my journey with Fields of Life has inspired me to support the village of Amor that gave life and love back to me after losing my Dad. But as I sat down to write this story in preparation for my first attempt at raising a portion of that money, I realized the deeper connection. As I danced in the rain on that field in Kitandwe, I witnessed the purity and immense purpose of rain. To hydrate, to bring life, to renew, to nourish, to grow, to strengthen, to GIVE WATER. And then, in Amor, I was reminded of the dire importance of the rain and of water. My first trip to Uganda changed my life- that day in the bush, on the hill, on the field, in the rain, it saved my life. My second trip to Uganda, reminded me of the importance of life… it brought me back to life. Water is the connection, the constant, the need, my calling.

In one day I will run a half marathon to raise my first $3,000 towards Petey’s well… My first run in almost 3 years, and my first year living and training in elevation. I cannot say that I’m not a bit terrified, but the little, tiny, minuscule bit of struggle I will feel is all for something bigger than me, for the ability to provide CLEAN WATER to an entire village... A village that I love and a life that I miss that will always be a part of who I am. So, I look forward to the pain.

GOOD PAIN because of GOOD RAIN.

If you are able, please donate and help me BUILD A WELL!!!!! I am, and will be, forever grateful.

Listen to: There Will Be Time by Mumford & Sons, Baaba Maal. (We never have as much time as we think we do, so do with it what makes your soul free).