One month left. Somehow I'm half way through my time here and I have no idea how it happened.

Firstly, I need to massively thank everyone who has donated money to our Toilet Campaign. We're currently on 1,320 pounds; a ridiculous amount which we never expected. Thank you so much. Everything we've been doing wouldn't be possible without this support and we're genuinely amazed at the reaction we've received.

Toilet construction number one is nearly complete. It started a week ago yesterday so the work has been really quick, and we've been able to oversee it all. During our first visit to the site we were joined by council members of the district (Kira) as well as commuity members who advised us on the builders to hire and the location of the latrine - it must be at least 30 feet from the house. Unfortunately these negotiations took place in Lugandan so we could only stand and look eager (I can now count to 10 but my language is as basic as that).

Over the course of the week materials were bought to the site (sand, cement, coregated iron, bricks, etc). We went to collect the bricks - a trip which consisted of us standing on top of a truck while we ventured down the ustable landscape to one of the many 'brick farms'; and once we had the bricks, standing on top of them; gripping the front of the truck whilst the Ugandan workers lay on the bricks as relaxed as ever. It was really fulfilling seeing the collection of materials increase outside the family's house.

2 diggers dug a rectangle pit (coffin-size) down to 30 feet, which took only 3 days - where the waste will collect and eventually decompose, so realistically it'll last forever. This week a concrete slab has been put over the pit and bricks built up around it. The roof was put up today (corregated iron, standard, over some wood) so only the door is left to do.There are 2 small 'rooms' inside; one with the brick-sized hole, and one to be used as a washing room. Spending so much time around the house of the family has proved the immediate necessity of this project. The family don't always use the surroundind woods to go to the toilet - sometimes they literally just go outside their house. The construction of such a decent latrine will improve their hygiene as necessary, and raise their standard of living significantly. We'll also be obtaining the following essential living items for them:

2 matresses
5 blankets
jerry cans
wash basins and soap
clothes and shoes (their clothes are absolutely caked in mud and barely held together, and none of them have shoes)
crops (which we will plant ourselves)

We'll be buying a LOT of excess clothes, shoes and crops which we'll be distributing across the local outreach commuity - obviously our main concern is to adhere to the fact this is a toilet campaign, but as we have been lucky enough to receive so much money, we want to raise the living standards of these familie's as we do it. One item of clothing can be bought for 2,000 Ugandan shillings, which is about 60p - you can imagine how much we'll be able to acquire for no more than 100 pounds. We'll be presenting the items to the family in the presence of the local councillers and CALM represenatitives including James (the founder). The local community of Kira have been such a part of our project; they have welcomed us so happily (to be expected in Uganda, but I'll never take it for granted). A woman called Agnes, who is a prominent member of the community and therefore has a good knowledge of the local families, has invited us to lunch 3 times during the course of our time there - yesterday not being so successful when we were served offals (a delicacy I've been lucky enough never to come across at home - cow's intestine). One of those situations you never want to find yourself in (I managed to leave the spikey green pieces without causing offence - the thought of them still makes me retch).

The CALM team have been so supportive of our campaign. A meeting was held at the beginning of last week (we're meant to have one every week to discuss developments and ideas of the charity, and to raise any concerns). Their reaction to our project was so positive, they plan to take our initiative and continue it in the future as part of their outreach programme. Sitting in the CALM meeting with all the charity representatives and hearing all their progress made me feel such a part of their work; which further encouraged me to do all I can for them in my remaining time here.

Although out time appears to have been dominated by our project, we've still been spending a lot of time at Jolly Mercy too. As time goes by I feel more and more attached to the school. The way in which the children respond to us is visibly different now than when we first arrived here. Instead of just sheer excitement at the sight of mzungus, they are genuinely happy to see us, talk to us and learn from us. It helps knowing the majority of their names now too; at first it's almost impossible to differentiate between boy and girl; they all have shaved heads (due to the fact they cannot afford to care for longer hair) so it was only really their clothes that would reveal their gender.

We had a day of manual labour on Monday - literally, I felt so hardcore. We spent the morning in the farm at school - they have a few fields for planting and some pigs which were donated by CALM. Rain season has just began - well, 'rain season' doesn't suffice, as the rain has been so scarce; it is their second year of drought now in Uganda. When it does rain, though, it really rains, and there is an immediate need to plant crops as soon as possible. Jolly Mercy are lacking vital farm workers. Between 4 of us we managed to dig up a whole field and sow beans and casava. The sight of me using a hoe must have been incredibly embarrassing/just awful, and it was definitely one of those moments where I looked around me and thought 'what the f*** am I doing?'. It felt very constructive though, despite my blistered hands and aching back muscles. In the afternoon Josh and I continued painting our classroom, which won't take us too much longer to complete - especially as I'm now particuarly conscious of the shortening time we have here.

We've become so accostomed to how we live here, it is mental imagining living any other way. When I think of the luxuries of home, the concept of running water blows my mind a bit - here any water we use we pour from jerry cans, so we've become totally aware of all the water we use and how much we have to limit ourselves to when washing (half a jerry can for a hair wash). I've got completely used to the fact that water is not endless, and we have to be resourceful in everything we do.

We know our local community so well; something I've never really had in England. Everyone talks to everyone; 'how are you' is such an expected greeting that most of the children at school say 'I'm fine' before you've even asked; we're asked by the majority of people we meet when walking around town - either that or BYE MZUNGU is shouted at us by the local kids. The quasi-celebrity effect of being white is something I can't really get used to. Getting a taxi has become second nature; when I say taxi I mean a minibus - which should seat about 10 people comfortably - squeezed with up to 15 people. To hail a taxi you just stand at the side of the road for about 30 seconds before one approaches beeping, and to get off you have to shout 'MAASAL' (stop) when you reach your required desination (the locals find it absolutely hilarious when we say it, probably because we're so awkward). So sort of like a less-dignified version of a bus. Boda-bodas are the Ugandan version of privatised taxis, if you want to get somewhere slightly obscure or need to get there quickly. I've mentioned them before - unstable motorbikes, driven by Ugandan men who hang out in clusters which frequent the sides of the roads every mile or so. You have to instruct them - 'paulam paula' (slowly) or 'mango mango' (quickly), although we mostly have to use the former (definitely not insured for riding them).

That's enough for now. Keep well everyone, missing you.

Big love.

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