On the back of a motorcycle again.  A little one, whining its way through Kampala’s pock-marked streets.  Small raindrops poke the opposite of sparks into my cheeks, my forehead, my closed eyelids.  I am breathing.

A man that I just met is driving, a random stranger warding off the high-60s cold with a coat made for Alaska, who may or may not know where we are going.  But I know.  This is my seventh time to Uganda.  I know where I’m going.

The Cokes this time in Acholi Quarters are room temperature.  On hot days they are cold, sometimes with ice blocking the glass bottleneck.  And on this cold day there are the Ugandan version of donuts, which look like fried dinner rolls and need the Coke to disolve them before swallowing.

There is smiling talk in Acholi, and laughter that I observe and appreciate but cannot share.  And there is planning and checking of progress.  Always checking progress.  Always straining for more progress against the slow ironic calm of poverty.

But we are making it.  We are far, far better than we were a year ago.  So far that the past seems silly, a wonderland for the Alice of our family, with fantastical colors and bad surprises.  And so much joy.

This year is going to be better yet and again.  An exponent of previous years, an extreme makeover of an already beautiful world.  This year the flower will bloom.

I lean and step down hills covered in the kind of mud that God makes when he blows his nose.  Mud that sticks to things it never touches.  My shoes collect the orange mud and keep it.  It weighs them down.  It makes them real.  Everything I own is made real in this way, collecting the warm colors of Ugandan soil and bringing them into the American light.

Ugandan colors.  American light.  This year the flower will bloom.

The leaders of the cooperative working on new designs.  The future is bright.

The monthly rush to finish quality control and counting in time to ship out the latest order!  The room looks roughly like DC after the recent snowstorm, except the snow is rainbow colored and made of paper.

She’s vicious.

Emily and Christine sourcing supplies for new designs

Welcome ceremony

Kids watching the welcome show

We hit the ground running in Kampala.  Full days of welcome parties, scouring Ugandan markets, and meeting with the co-op leadership to plan next steps.  Enjoy the photos.  More to come soon!

Today we’re launching our second annual Acholi Gras clearance sale!  And this time there’s a twist.  We’re donating 100% of the proceeds from this sale to Partners in Health for their relief efforts in Haiti.

So you get incredible discounts on last year’s line of Acholi Beads, and we’ll give 100% of what you spend to help the people suffering in the wake of Haiti’s earthquake.  We’re all about the win-win.

The people of Haiti are suffering many of the same difficulties that our partners in Uganda have been through - their homes are destroyed, they’ve seen loved ones killed, and now they’re displaced without enough food, water, or shelter.  We hurt with them, and we’re glad that our business has the potential to support their relief and recovery.

Shop the Acholi Gras sale here.

You're Invited to our Open House

Feel free to RSVP on facebook here.

Mama Esther - A Video Portrait from James Pearson on Vimeo.

Acholi Beads brings you a video portrait of one of our first bead makers, Mama Esther. After being attacked twice by the Lord’s Resistance Army, Esther fled with her family to Acholi Quarters. She struggled for more than a decade to support her family, until she found Acholi Beads.

For more info, visit http://acholibeads.com