A Ugandan pair puts a human face on a private school's goodwill mission.

Two kids zoom in circles on an electric scooter outside a picturesque Palma Ceia home after soccer practice.

An 11-year-old boy drives. A 12-year-old girl hangs on to his shoulders. Fiona Masika squeals as Fletcher Barnes speeds around a corner.

"Woo!" he yells. "You better be holding on!" She lets go and holds her arms out like she's flying.

Before last week, Fiona had never been on a scooter. This life - Slurpees, Halloween, pink and white Reeboks - is just a vacation, her first.

Fiona has never ventured far from Kasese, her hometown in Western Uganda, where she sleeps on the floor in a house made of mat and grass and only eats one meal each day.

AIDS killed both of her parents.

Two weeks ago, she boarded a plane with the head of her school and flew 17 hours to New York, then Tampa.

Until Nov. 22, she'll take sixth-grade classes at St. John's Episcopal School. She'll live with a different family each week. And she'll share stories of her world almost 8,000 miles away.

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Four years ago, St. John's chaplain, the Rev. Marcia Davenport, met a retired Ugandan bishop who started a foundation for AIDS orphans. She asked if he knew of a school St. John's could partner with in Africa.

He set her up with Kamaiba Primary School, where half the kids are orphans, several walk to school barefoot and hungry, and students outnumber teachers 100 to one.

The St. John's community now sponsors about 58 Kamaiba students, paying for their tuition and meals. And St. John's students raised $3,400 at a "Mission Possible" talent show to fly Fiona and the head of her school, Eunice Sunday, to Tampa this year.

Sunday chose Fiona, who lives with her grandfather, among more than 900 students because of her speaking talent, good behavior and friendly personality.

St. John's teachers have visited Uganda with suitcases full of computers, uniforms and shoes donated by students. One year, the team helped build a library for the school.

Davenport was amazed by how hard the kids work to get to class. Because public schools in Uganda require tuition, some kids are forced to drop out, but they borrow books from their friends, staying caught up in case they get the money.

"They want to learn, desperately," Davenport said.

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And Eunice Sunday wants to teach. She awakes at 5 a.m. every day and walks 7 miles to school.

The 44-year-old instructor left her four kids and husband for the six-week trip to soak up lessons at the University of Tampa and shadow teachers at St. John's. In comparing curriculum, she is amazed by how fast kids learn how to read and write here.

Sunday stood in front of a class of second-graders last week to teach them about Ugandan names.

"We name our children according to birthright," she said. "If you're a girl and you're the first-born in your family, you get a name: Masika. How many of you are first-born girls here?"

Hands shot up.

Sunday did the same with first-born boys, second-borns, third- borns and twins. The second-graders created Ugandan name tags and shook Fiona's hand, introducing themselves.

That day, she met Kambugho Camryn, Biira Mackenzie and Baluku Chase.

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Back at that Palma Ceia home after school, dinner is almost ready: Chicken and rice, edamame and apple pie.

As her son plays outside with Fiona, Leland Baldwin pours some sangria in the kitchen. Glass in hand, Sunday double-clicks through the Web site of her hometown paper, and says, "Our king got married last weekend!"

Baldwin hosted the visitors for a week and stayed up with Sunday talking about home life. Family matters are universal, Baldwin said.

She is impressed by how much her sons have welcomed Fiona. Fletcher moved out of his bedroom for Fiona and made her tea in the morning. And Walker, 13, looked out for her at school.

Davenport, the St. John's chaplain, says that compassion is schoolwide.

"I have never in my whole life imagined, nor have I seen, such an outpouring of generosity," she said. "The kids cannot get enough of Fiona."

When they see her walking down the halls, they say "Khuti," which means "Hi" in Fiona's native language, Lhukonzo.

Fiona responds with "Yo" and a high-five.

Alexandra Zayas can be reached at azayas@sptimes.com or 226- 3354.

Fast facts

Meet the visitors

Fiona Masika and Eunice Sunday are available to speak to schools, churches, youth groups and other civic organizations about AIDS, life in Uganda and possible school partnerships. To arrange a visit, call the Rev. Marcia Davenport at 849-5200.

To learn more about the Bishop Masereka Christian Foundation for AIDS orphans, visit www.bmcf.org.

Credit: Times Staff Writer

PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: [Fiona Masika] learns about adverbs during a sixth-grade English class at St John's. Life back home is radically different. Her parents died of AIDS; she is used to one meal a day. Yet Ugandan children are driven to learn. PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: Fiona Masika, 12, holds on to one of her host brothers, [Fletcher Barnes], 11, as they zip down the streets near his home on an electric scooter. He chooses to steer because Fiona likes to go really fast. Fletcher has taken to his guest, as have all of St. John's Episcopal School students. PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: Fiona Masika partakes of chicken and yellow rice at a Cuban dinner in her honor at the [Leland Baldwin]-Barnes host home. Lenise Cline, left, Eric Cline and Walker Barnes, 13, were there. PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: Ugandan teacher Eunice Sunday smiles at a dinner party. She walks 7 miles to school back home. PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: During a break in her schedule, Fiona joins the eighth-grade girls' P.E. class. After easily picking up the rules to a game, a cross between kickball and dodgeball,Maren Douglas, 14, gives her a high- five asKristen Howard and Katie Lutton, both 13, look on. PHOTO, MELISSA LYTTLE - Times: Fiona shows her soccer moves in a scrimmage with the St. John's co-ed team on Davis Islands. MAP, JEREMY HAYES - Times: Uganda