Hey everybody! I know it's been a long time since my last post. This is actually the last post pertaining to Uganda, so this blog will lie silent for quite a while after this.
After I got back to the US, I had a few days of classes in Chicago to wrap up the study abroad program that I was technically a part of. It was an exhausting three days of pointless "what did you learn?" and "you were so brave!" BS. No offense, GESI staff, if you're reading this. Take it as constructive criticism.
I don't know what I learned from living in Kakira, Uganda for two months. It is not an experience that you can sum up in a journal or a lecture. There seems to be a fallacy that travelers have "an experience" when they go abroad. Can you call living a cohesive experience? It's fragments of sensation, conversations and meetings, frustrations and disappointments, brief contact with others before they disappear into the hazy limbo of "we'll meet again". The same thing happens anywhere; it's still human life.
Not to sound like a jaded hipster or anything, but that's how I see it. People have been asking me "How was Africa?" since I got back. I have summed it up as, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." And it was. There were the amazing moments, like in Murchison Falls, and the terrible moments, like in Crescent Medical Center. It was a blur of time across a small stretch of a giant, diverse, and largely misunderstood continent. But if you want concrete lessons, here's what I've figured out from the trip so far.
1. There are saints and jerks everywhere. There are people like Mama Fina and Ali, who are genuinely caring and open to new people/ideas, and there are people who look out for only their own interests. This is a lesson everyone should learn at some point. I think we would have fewer wars.
2. The foreign aid machine has serious, systemic problems. I can't catalogue exactly what all of them are, and I don't know how to fix them. But admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. The fact is, trillions of dollars are pouring into Africa every year, and people still can't find water to drink on a daily basis. We need to analyze what channels that money travels through and how it is directed to certain causes rather than others. The world has the resources--the West and Africa both--to develop and move forward to a better life. We just need to find the right way and the right people to utilize them.
3. Missionaries are annoying. Okay, cheap shot, sorry, but they really are. I know these people mean well, but for all its problems, Uganda does not lack faith by any standards. But these people still go over there and preach the gospel to kids in schools for a week and hand out soccer balls and go home and pat themselves on the back. Stay in America and work in a soup kitchen, please. You'll do more good.
4. The world is not safe, but common sense goes a long way to keeping you out of trouble. If you're worried about going abroad, the best advice I can give you is not to be an idiot. Always be aware of your surroundings, be aware of how you look, what you're carrying, where you're going. Try not to be alone, but if you are, just focus on getting from Point A to Point B. Also, you don't have a responsibility to be polite to people. If someone is bothering you, get away. It doesn't matter if you hurt their feelings--your instincts were probably right. Just follow your instincts and the rules of common sense that you usually would use.
5. Go forth and seek what intrigues you. It's important to go out and, like...do stuff. So if you want to go somewhere, it's probably possible. Make it happen. You'll only get stronger and smarter by going out of your comfort zone. Nobody ever experienced life-changing personal growth just sitting on his/her couch.
But yeah, so...that's Uganda. If you've been reading and following this blog, thank you. Really. I appreciate all the encouragement and advice, and am touched that so many people were worried about me. Whether you sent me emails, Facebook messages, or commented on the blog itself, thanks for taking the time and sticking with me.
There's a big chance I'll be spending my Spring Quarter 2012 in South Africa as a reporter/writer for the Cape Times. So hey, if I do...come back to Kasepiki, and I'll be here again. Thanks again everybody!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Entebbe: I'm leavin', on a jet plane, I don't know when I'll be back again...
Well, this is my last day in Uganda. FSD picked us up from our various homestays and all 14 of us are together again in a hotel on Lake Victoria. We spent most of yesterday driving, though we did goof around in Jinja for a little bit. I had some nostalgia for Kakira, like the I'm-leaving-and-probably-will-never-come-back kind that everybody gets when they leave a place when they've stayed there a while.
On Friday morning, Becky and I got up early to await the arrival of our handlers. At about 8 am four of the girls from work showed up at our house to tell us goodbye. It was really sweet; we took about ten minutes to do pictures and hugs. Then we went back to packing/watching TV with Fina's grandkids (Cynthia, 7; Douglas, 4; Cindy, 3). We had spent the night before playing with them and they drew me some pictures in my notebook which I plan on keeping. Cynthia saw that I was getting addresses and phone numbers in there, so she drew me a house and wrote her full name, the school she goes to, and her grade in lieu of a proper address. I think we were driving the adults crazy with all the noise we were making, but Becky and I were like, "Well, we have been pretty tame. We're playing with these adorable children."
Anyway, FSD came to get us at about 10:30 am and we took some time saying goodbye to Mama Fina, Ruth, and the kids. It was pretty sad; Ruth teared up a little bit. Mama Fina is sweet, even though she drives me a little crazy, and I really think that she will miss us. She is a remarkable woman.
Then we went and picked up Billy and Robert up the road and their mom, Mama Denise, was actually crying, like tears running down her face crying. Becky and I got out and hugged her, since she's always been nice to us and we always go to see her in the market. We shook hands with Johnson, their host dad, and got in the car and headed to Jinja for the last time. After lunch and some wandering, we headed to Entebbe and got here last night at about 6 pm.
I can't believe I'm leaving today! It's been a crazy trip. This is not going to be my last post on Uganda, though--I have a few days of classes in Chicago to finish up the program I'm doing for Northwestern that this whole experience has stemmed from. After all that's over, and I'm home for real in Cincinnati, I may have some other reflections to post and wrap up this whole adventure. For now, I just want to focus on getting back to the U.S. in one piece and not having another three-day odyssey like the one that this trip started with. Stay tuned...the journey begins (continues) again tonight. Wish me luck!
On Friday morning, Becky and I got up early to await the arrival of our handlers. At about 8 am four of the girls from work showed up at our house to tell us goodbye. It was really sweet; we took about ten minutes to do pictures and hugs. Then we went back to packing/watching TV with Fina's grandkids (Cynthia, 7; Douglas, 4; Cindy, 3). We had spent the night before playing with them and they drew me some pictures in my notebook which I plan on keeping. Cynthia saw that I was getting addresses and phone numbers in there, so she drew me a house and wrote her full name, the school she goes to, and her grade in lieu of a proper address. I think we were driving the adults crazy with all the noise we were making, but Becky and I were like, "Well, we have been pretty tame. We're playing with these adorable children."
Anyway, FSD came to get us at about 10:30 am and we took some time saying goodbye to Mama Fina, Ruth, and the kids. It was pretty sad; Ruth teared up a little bit. Mama Fina is sweet, even though she drives me a little crazy, and I really think that she will miss us. She is a remarkable woman.
Then we went and picked up Billy and Robert up the road and their mom, Mama Denise, was actually crying, like tears running down her face crying. Becky and I got out and hugged her, since she's always been nice to us and we always go to see her in the market. We shook hands with Johnson, their host dad, and got in the car and headed to Jinja for the last time. After lunch and some wandering, we headed to Entebbe and got here last night at about 6 pm.
I can't believe I'm leaving today! It's been a crazy trip. This is not going to be my last post on Uganda, though--I have a few days of classes in Chicago to finish up the program I'm doing for Northwestern that this whole experience has stemmed from. After all that's over, and I'm home for real in Cincinnati, I may have some other reflections to post and wrap up this whole adventure. For now, I just want to focus on getting back to the U.S. in one piece and not having another three-day odyssey like the one that this trip started with. Stay tuned...the journey begins (continues) again tonight. Wish me luck!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Kakira/Kampala: "I was trying to preserve your dignity." "It's a losing battle, but I appreciate the effort."
So, this Friday Becky and I were corralled by our family, mostly Uncle Peter, to go up to Kampala. We were late leaving on Friday, because our co-workers at St. Eliza’s threw a party for us and we weren’t just going to leave, since we didn’t even want to go to Kampala in the first place. The party was really sweet—they fixed us a big lunch and got all of the nursing students, staff, and volunteers together. Our supervisor Joseph, the agricultural expert, and the town health officer all made speeches and Vincent, one of the instructors for the community health workers, was the master of ceremonies. These are all people who we’ve worked with (except Vincent, who, while generally a good guy, pretty much just sits on St. Eliza’s porch and reads the paper/stares at the road) so it was really nice. I ended up making the speech on behalf of the interns, since they wanted us to talk.
“We have nothing for you but gratitude…you have let us into your lives and your hearts and we’re going to miss everybody. Thanks to Joseph, because nothing would have gotten done without him. Thanks to everyone who had a smile for us every day…thanks Halima, Hellen, thanks to Eddie for translating for us, to Sylvia and Esther for everything.” And all that schmaltzy stuff. But it was true, no matter how cheesy.
Afterwards, we went out and took some group pictures in front of St. Eliza’s , which we promised to email to Joseph. It was fun and sad, since I will miss everybody and, honestly, probably will never see any of them again.
Our work at St. Eliza’s is done, but we still have a few administrative things to submit to FSD and GESI. The project is going on well—the bore hole is fixed, the maize that is currently on the school’s land is being harvested to make ready for the planting of the maize for the children, and the seeds, hoes, and saucepans are bought (we got the improved seeds we wanted! Longe 6, yeah!). We’re a bit worried about the timing, since the rains came a few weeks early, which means that the planting is already late. But we know that it’s happening, and everybody seems committed to continuing with what we helped to start. Now all the four of us can do is have faith.
Becky and I packed some stuff and headed off to Kampala immediately after the farewell party. We got into a mutatu (taxi) and headed off to the capital with Ruth.
About halfway there, I was feeling pretty sick. Then I elbowed Becky awake, since she was sitting by the window (I was between her and Ruth) and said, “I need the window.”
“What?”
I pushed her aside, assuming that that would be better than the alternative, and promptly vomited out the window of the speeding taxi. By speeding, I mean that 100 kph is the norm. Becky was just like, “OH MY GOD.”
Unfortunately, I was wearing a dress, which got pushed down by me shoving my body out the window, so I also had one of my boobs out the window. I am assured that everyone on the side of that stretch of road had quite a story to bring home, especially the kids who were excitedly shouting “MZUNGU!” Becky, bless her soul, put an arm around me hide my chest, since I was more worried about throwing up. (I later thanked her for that, and she said she was trying to preserve some of my dignity. I responded that it was a losing battle, but that I appreciated the effort.) After a few minutes, the driver realized that I was vomiting out of his window and onto his car, so he pulled over. After I finished vomiting, I got out of the car, to the wonder of the people in the van and on the roadside. They made me buy a plastic bag at a stand and demonstrated how to use it (“I know how it works, thanks”) and Becky ran and bought me a big water.
“Sorry guys, my bad,” I said to the other taxi passengers as I got back in. It didn’t really do anything about the “What the hell, white girl?” looks on their faces.
Anyway, after that episode, we did eventually reach Kampala. Uncle Peter picked us up and took us to a bar he owns, where they pressured me to drink alcohol and I refused. We then went to a very Western restaurant, which was okay (I was still kind of sick) and Uncle Peter then made the three of us go to a club in the city.
He said, “We’re only going for an hour, so Lynne, don’t complain.”
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be complaining if you weren’t dragging me to a club when I was sick and didn’t want to go.” Peter and Ruth laughed uneasily; I’m sure poor Becky was mortified. The things I put her through…
Becky and I survived an hour of awkward dancing and got to go sleep in a guesthouse a little after midnight. The guest house was kind of a weird place—the sitting room looked like a dilapidated Victorian mansion, Buddhist temple, and tacky American living room all combined. The beds were fairly comfortable though—we had to lock the floor we were on from the inside to keep people from coming in (the staff actually made us do that) and locked our own door as well. I slept with my trusty knife under my pillow. It was a good time all around.
Long story short, we eventually made it back to Kakira. I’m now home for my second to last night in Mama Fina’s house. Speaking of Mama Fina, we bought her some Ugandan moonshine on the way home, Uganda Waragi, her favorite—hey, she’s like 70 and raised 10 kids, she can take shots if she wants to. She was happy with our offering. I can’t believe I have three days left in Uganda! Apologies for the long post; I just have a lot of feelings.
“We have nothing for you but gratitude…you have let us into your lives and your hearts and we’re going to miss everybody. Thanks to Joseph, because nothing would have gotten done without him. Thanks to everyone who had a smile for us every day…thanks Halima, Hellen, thanks to Eddie for translating for us, to Sylvia and Esther for everything.” And all that schmaltzy stuff. But it was true, no matter how cheesy.
Afterwards, we went out and took some group pictures in front of St. Eliza’s , which we promised to email to Joseph. It was fun and sad, since I will miss everybody and, honestly, probably will never see any of them again.
Our work at St. Eliza’s is done, but we still have a few administrative things to submit to FSD and GESI. The project is going on well—the bore hole is fixed, the maize that is currently on the school’s land is being harvested to make ready for the planting of the maize for the children, and the seeds, hoes, and saucepans are bought (we got the improved seeds we wanted! Longe 6, yeah!). We’re a bit worried about the timing, since the rains came a few weeks early, which means that the planting is already late. But we know that it’s happening, and everybody seems committed to continuing with what we helped to start. Now all the four of us can do is have faith.
Becky and I packed some stuff and headed off to Kampala immediately after the farewell party. We got into a mutatu (taxi) and headed off to the capital with Ruth.
About halfway there, I was feeling pretty sick. Then I elbowed Becky awake, since she was sitting by the window (I was between her and Ruth) and said, “I need the window.”
“What?”
I pushed her aside, assuming that that would be better than the alternative, and promptly vomited out the window of the speeding taxi. By speeding, I mean that 100 kph is the norm. Becky was just like, “OH MY GOD.”
Unfortunately, I was wearing a dress, which got pushed down by me shoving my body out the window, so I also had one of my boobs out the window. I am assured that everyone on the side of that stretch of road had quite a story to bring home, especially the kids who were excitedly shouting “MZUNGU!” Becky, bless her soul, put an arm around me hide my chest, since I was more worried about throwing up. (I later thanked her for that, and she said she was trying to preserve some of my dignity. I responded that it was a losing battle, but that I appreciated the effort.) After a few minutes, the driver realized that I was vomiting out of his window and onto his car, so he pulled over. After I finished vomiting, I got out of the car, to the wonder of the people in the van and on the roadside. They made me buy a plastic bag at a stand and demonstrated how to use it (“I know how it works, thanks”) and Becky ran and bought me a big water.
“Sorry guys, my bad,” I said to the other taxi passengers as I got back in. It didn’t really do anything about the “What the hell, white girl?” looks on their faces.
Anyway, after that episode, we did eventually reach Kampala. Uncle Peter picked us up and took us to a bar he owns, where they pressured me to drink alcohol and I refused. We then went to a very Western restaurant, which was okay (I was still kind of sick) and Uncle Peter then made the three of us go to a club in the city.
He said, “We’re only going for an hour, so Lynne, don’t complain.”
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be complaining if you weren’t dragging me to a club when I was sick and didn’t want to go.” Peter and Ruth laughed uneasily; I’m sure poor Becky was mortified. The things I put her through…
Becky and I survived an hour of awkward dancing and got to go sleep in a guesthouse a little after midnight. The guest house was kind of a weird place—the sitting room looked like a dilapidated Victorian mansion, Buddhist temple, and tacky American living room all combined. The beds were fairly comfortable though—we had to lock the floor we were on from the inside to keep people from coming in (the staff actually made us do that) and locked our own door as well. I slept with my trusty knife under my pillow. It was a good time all around.
Long story short, we eventually made it back to Kakira. I’m now home for my second to last night in Mama Fina’s house. Speaking of Mama Fina, we bought her some Ugandan moonshine on the way home, Uganda Waragi, her favorite—hey, she’s like 70 and raised 10 kids, she can take shots if she wants to. She was happy with our offering. I can’t believe I have three days left in Uganda! Apologies for the long post; I just have a lot of feelings.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Kakira: I DON'T LIKE MANGO JUICE. BECKY DOESN'T LIKE MANGO JUICE. NO ONE LIKES MANGO JUICE.
Well, Mama Fina just stormed in to our room when she found out Becky was sick. She made me change the sheets (on both beds...I'm not even sick), made Becky shower, moved all of our stuff around and put blankets on our stuff. Apparently people are coming over to visit Becky because she's sick (she has medicine and we've talked to a good doctor and everything, lest you think I am not worried enough). Is it just a cultural thing in Uganda that sick care sucks?
People always think you should eat more when you have stomach problems. They always want to come in and clean your room when all you want to do is sleep. You're supposed to exercise when you're sick and not sleep. And Mama Fina keeps trying to force feed us mango juice. She did it when I was hospitalized and vomiting every two hours or so, and she's doing it with Becky now. When Becky said she didn't want it, Fina thrust it at me and said, "Lynne. You drink." We have never, ever liked mango juice, asked for mango juice, drank it unless forced, etc. (Yes, we know it's cause she cares. It doesn't make the episode less annoying.)
"Saagala mango juice, Mama Fina."
"Eeehh? You not drink, I spend my money..." Well, we didn't ask for mango juice, so maybe you shouldn't have gone out and bought it. We need to get out of Uganda before either of us gets sick again.
Also, on a sad note, our favorite host brother Ali left us today. The three of us had some really good conversations about America, Uganda, and about religion. Ali is a devout Muslim and Uganda has a lot of Islamaphobia, which he's had trouble with. In school, the other kids used to call him "Ali-Shabbab" after the Muslim terrorist group that operates in Kampala. But he was always very open-minded and really wanted to hear about the U.S., and even though we usually didn't change each others' minds, we were able to hear each other out.
When he left, he sat us down and said, "I really used to hate America, but you have shown me that Americans are good people. It is now my dream to go to America one day. You are my best friends and my sisters...I have something to ask, but I want you to promise that you will still be my sisters afterwards. I wanted to invite you to Islam, for two reasons: One because then you will really be my sisters, and Two because it has brought me joy and I want you to have the same joy as well."
He didn't expect us to convert on the spot or anything; he told us that it was the best gift he could think to give us, so we both appreciated it in the spirit that it was meant. I don't think I'll be converting any time soon, but when I go back to college, I will take a class or two on Islam if I can, because I want to learn more about it.
Ali, who is 21, left to go to Busitema University. (It may sound old, but it's a normal age to start college here.) He has a full government sponsorship to study computer engineering. Best of luck Ali! I hope we meet again someday!
People always think you should eat more when you have stomach problems. They always want to come in and clean your room when all you want to do is sleep. You're supposed to exercise when you're sick and not sleep. And Mama Fina keeps trying to force feed us mango juice. She did it when I was hospitalized and vomiting every two hours or so, and she's doing it with Becky now. When Becky said she didn't want it, Fina thrust it at me and said, "Lynne. You drink." We have never, ever liked mango juice, asked for mango juice, drank it unless forced, etc. (Yes, we know it's cause she cares. It doesn't make the episode less annoying.)
"Saagala mango juice, Mama Fina."
"Eeehh? You not drink, I spend my money..." Well, we didn't ask for mango juice, so maybe you shouldn't have gone out and bought it. We need to get out of Uganda before either of us gets sick again.
Also, on a sad note, our favorite host brother Ali left us today. The three of us had some really good conversations about America, Uganda, and about religion. Ali is a devout Muslim and Uganda has a lot of Islamaphobia, which he's had trouble with. In school, the other kids used to call him "Ali-Shabbab" after the Muslim terrorist group that operates in Kampala. But he was always very open-minded and really wanted to hear about the U.S., and even though we usually didn't change each others' minds, we were able to hear each other out.
When he left, he sat us down and said, "I really used to hate America, but you have shown me that Americans are good people. It is now my dream to go to America one day. You are my best friends and my sisters...I have something to ask, but I want you to promise that you will still be my sisters afterwards. I wanted to invite you to Islam, for two reasons: One because then you will really be my sisters, and Two because it has brought me joy and I want you to have the same joy as well."
He didn't expect us to convert on the spot or anything; he told us that it was the best gift he could think to give us, so we both appreciated it in the spirit that it was meant. I don't think I'll be converting any time soon, but when I go back to college, I will take a class or two on Islam if I can, because I want to learn more about it.
Ali, who is 21, left to go to Busitema University. (It may sound old, but it's a normal age to start college here.) He has a full government sponsorship to study computer engineering. Best of luck Ali! I hope we meet again someday!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Kakira: "I'll give you some medicine...my fist in your face"
Rain, rain, rain all day. It's actually nice, since it cools the place down and keeps it from being dusty. The thing about rain here is that everything stops when it's raining. People don't have cars or umbrellas and most of the roads are dirt, so rain means you're stuck in your house/workplace/wherever. Unlike in the U.S., "it was raining" is an acceptable excuse for not going to work.
On a completely unrelated note, one thing I've run into here that I'm not going to miss is that cops and security guards can stop you to flirt with you and there's nothing you can do about it. Not that that CAN'T happen in the U.S., but you can at least report the person and it's not very common anyway. Becky and I have to stop at a security checkpoint every time we come from town because of the Kakira Sugar Factory, and the guards always stop us for longer than everyone else so that they can talk to us. One time we had a guy who was like, "I'm sick...can you give me some medicine?" *wink* I say we, but really he was flirting with Becky since my general ice-queen vibe didn't make him think that I was interested. She pretended not to understand, and eventually we got through. I was like, "See, this is why I don't talk to people."
But I hate that I have to fear the guards and the cops, because who's going to help me in case of trouble--the boda driver? It will be nice to go home where there's at least a functional police force. Speaking of bodas and trouble though, when I headed to town for the safari last Thursday, the guy was NOT taking me in the direction of the main road, like I had asked. And I was like, "This isn't the way to the main road..." And he was like, "Oh, you wanted to go to the main road? It's 1000" while not turning. And I was like, "PEACE" and hopped off the bike. Not fun times.
Meanwhile, at work today, we didn't do much. On Friday, there was a meeting that I missed because I was going on safari with the parents at Kagogwa Primary, and apparently it went really well. People were singing and dancing and there was lots of hand-shaking, etc. So it's really exciting that people are enthused about the project. This week we really just need to tie up loose ends--finish a workplan to leave with the school, write up our final reports and budget, and that sort of thing.
Also, in case anyone was wondering, I am getting better--I went to a legit doctor in town and she prescribed me an antibiotic for amoeba, which I probably have, and it's been making me a lot better. I can eat now! I'm actually hungry all the time, which is comforting. I'm leaving a week from tomorrow...crazy.
On a completely unrelated note, one thing I've run into here that I'm not going to miss is that cops and security guards can stop you to flirt with you and there's nothing you can do about it. Not that that CAN'T happen in the U.S., but you can at least report the person and it's not very common anyway. Becky and I have to stop at a security checkpoint every time we come from town because of the Kakira Sugar Factory, and the guards always stop us for longer than everyone else so that they can talk to us. One time we had a guy who was like, "I'm sick...can you give me some medicine?" *wink* I say we, but really he was flirting with Becky since my general ice-queen vibe didn't make him think that I was interested. She pretended not to understand, and eventually we got through. I was like, "See, this is why I don't talk to people."
But I hate that I have to fear the guards and the cops, because who's going to help me in case of trouble--the boda driver? It will be nice to go home where there's at least a functional police force. Speaking of bodas and trouble though, when I headed to town for the safari last Thursday, the guy was NOT taking me in the direction of the main road, like I had asked. And I was like, "This isn't the way to the main road..." And he was like, "Oh, you wanted to go to the main road? It's 1000" while not turning. And I was like, "PEACE" and hopped off the bike. Not fun times.
Meanwhile, at work today, we didn't do much. On Friday, there was a meeting that I missed because I was going on safari with the parents at Kagogwa Primary, and apparently it went really well. People were singing and dancing and there was lots of hand-shaking, etc. So it's really exciting that people are enthused about the project. This week we really just need to tie up loose ends--finish a workplan to leave with the school, write up our final reports and budget, and that sort of thing.
Also, in case anyone was wondering, I am getting better--I went to a legit doctor in town and she prescribed me an antibiotic for amoeba, which I probably have, and it's been making me a lot better. I can eat now! I'm actually hungry all the time, which is comforting. I'm leaving a week from tomorrow...crazy.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Murchison Falls: The world is just awesome
The reason that I haven't updated for a while is that I was on SAFARI. I was gone from Thursday night to this afternoon. It was the best weekend ever, or was at least one of the best ones in my (admittedly generally uneventful) life.
I stayed at Backpackers in Jinja on Thursday night because our guide, Emma (short for Emmanuel), picked us up at 5 am on Friday morning in his party van, which was a party because we were in it, not because it was really different from other vans. The party was comprised of me, Mikey and Kirk of the rafting trip, Amanda, another intern, and two women from Spain, Lidia and Claudia. We headed northwest towards Muchison Falls National Park. Here is a map of Uganda in case anyone wants a visual on where we went (we left from Jinja): http://www.lonelyplanet.com/maps/africa/uganda/
We spent most of the day driving, but around lunchtime we stopped in Massindi, a town relatively close to Murchison Falls. We all got snacks at the supermarket, and Mikey picked up a block of something that he said looked like a sweet (I thought it looked like wood). It said Tamarind on the package, but neither of us knew what that was, so he just went ahead and took a huge bite. A silence ensued.
"...is it good?"
"It's vile."
This story has no relevance to the rest of the trip, but it was hilarious when, after talking to Kirk, we figured out that tamarind is, in fact basically a nearly inedible dried fruit, which most of you may or may not have known, but it was still funny. Anyway. Moving on.
We drove on, stopping nearby for lunch, and eventually got up into the mountains, which were lush and green. Emma spent a while driving on the winding roads, and eventually we came upon some baboons in the road, which was cool. More surprising, though, was an old white couple biking on the side of the road. We were literally in the middle of nowhere--where had they come from and where were they going? Pretty hardcore.
We eventually arrived at a safari park. It isn't actually open yet, and only has a few completed structures, but Emma knew the owner, so we got to stay there. It was weird being the only people in the place, but we did get to do whatever we wanted. Mostly we hung out at the lodge that was overlooking the Albert Nile, the section of the Nile that feeds into Lake Albert, which is on the border of Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. You could hear the hippos snorting in the river from there.
On Saturday we started at 6:30 and headed into Murchison Falls National Park. We spent the morning driving in the party van, looking at lots of gazelles and buffalo, and some awesome giraffes. They are actually a lot shorter than I thought they would be, especially the females. And then we found a lion! A male lion with only three legs. It turns out that poachers had set a wire trap and he had been unlucky enough to get caught in it. The rangers at the park had to call a vet to operate in order to save him. Part of the reason that we saw him was because he couldn't walk far without getting tired, so he kept stopping. F*ing poachers. I will punch you in the face. All of you.
We found his wife and cubs, who take care of him now by bringing him food. We couldn't get as close to them, though, since female lions are more aggressive, especially when it comes to cubs, and will actually jump in your car and mess you up.
Moving on, we saw a group of hippos in a little lake, where Emma cut up pineapple and we ate it right out of the rind for breakfast (it was only about 8 or 9 am at this point).
The sun roof was big enough for three of us to stand on the seat at a time and have half of their bodies out of the car. Riding through the savannah was amazing. I stayed up there until the people still in the back made me get down so they could have a turn.
After lunch, we drove out to the actual falls. I have never seen a more beautiful waterfall.
Murchison Falls could reasonably be called "Jaws of Death", because that's what it looked like. Huge amounts of rushing water are pushed into a narrow but deep cavern of dark stone that empties into a yawning chasm. There is a whirlpool developed there, and the water proceeds down a short distance before emptying into the calm Albert-Nile. The cliffs are covered in lush greenery and trees hang on their edges. A fine mist pervades the air from the crashing waves.
Okay, sorry, that description was really fun to write. Anyway.
We hiked about 45 minutes through the woods and ended up on some rocks that stuck out into the water. We waited a while for a boat (previously chartered) to pick us up. Many boats full of tourists, who were mostly British for some reason, stared at us like we were wildlife and some of them even took pictures. Mikey summed up our reaction the best: "In 5 years, they'll look at those pictures and say, "I'm glad we took pictures of those random people. That was really significant."
Our boat picked us up eventually. We saw HUGE crocodiles and some more hippos on the way back to our port. As we neared land, we noticed a giant, foreboding storm cloud coming closer to us. We didn't really have a choice but to go ahead and wait for it to hit. The rain started pounding us and lighting/thunder were right there. There was a group of young tourist girls and their moms on the boat, and they were literally crying and saying, "We're gonna die."
Our reaction, on the other hand, was to ask for free beer. They said no.
After the boat ride, we headed back to the campsite to shower and change, and had another delicious meal. We got up this morning at 3:40 am (I don't think I've ever gotten up that early for anything ever) and headed back to Massindi to go find some chimps. Emma picked up some guy in town who said he was a chimp guide, God knows why he didn't pick someone with credentials, and the guy hopped in our car and drove with us to where there were some chimps in a field, eating sugarcane. We walked over to them slowly, and the guy basically was just like, "Walk slowly." We got really close to the chimps, but after a few minutes they started talking to each other. We all exchanged looks. This continued until the biggest male jumped into the tree nearest us and loomed over us menacingly. We then decided that it was time to go. We dropped the "guide" off (Emma disinterestedly handed him 1000 shillings and told him to get out) and we headed back to town. We dropped off Lidia and Claudia at the taxi park so that they could continue their trek across Uganda, and headed home. I got back at about 3:30 and have been chilling at home ever since.
This was hands-down one of the best weekends of my life. I saw amazing landscapes, exotic animals, and just chilled with some awesome people. The world is just awesome. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0jZzBEKIMc)
I stayed at Backpackers in Jinja on Thursday night because our guide, Emma (short for Emmanuel), picked us up at 5 am on Friday morning in his party van, which was a party because we were in it, not because it was really different from other vans. The party was comprised of me, Mikey and Kirk of the rafting trip, Amanda, another intern, and two women from Spain, Lidia and Claudia. We headed northwest towards Muchison Falls National Park. Here is a map of Uganda in case anyone wants a visual on where we went (we left from Jinja): http://www.lonelyplanet.com/maps/africa/uganda/
We spent most of the day driving, but around lunchtime we stopped in Massindi, a town relatively close to Murchison Falls. We all got snacks at the supermarket, and Mikey picked up a block of something that he said looked like a sweet (I thought it looked like wood). It said Tamarind on the package, but neither of us knew what that was, so he just went ahead and took a huge bite. A silence ensued.
"...is it good?"
"It's vile."
This story has no relevance to the rest of the trip, but it was hilarious when, after talking to Kirk, we figured out that tamarind is, in fact basically a nearly inedible dried fruit, which most of you may or may not have known, but it was still funny. Anyway. Moving on.
We drove on, stopping nearby for lunch, and eventually got up into the mountains, which were lush and green. Emma spent a while driving on the winding roads, and eventually we came upon some baboons in the road, which was cool. More surprising, though, was an old white couple biking on the side of the road. We were literally in the middle of nowhere--where had they come from and where were they going? Pretty hardcore.
We eventually arrived at a safari park. It isn't actually open yet, and only has a few completed structures, but Emma knew the owner, so we got to stay there. It was weird being the only people in the place, but we did get to do whatever we wanted. Mostly we hung out at the lodge that was overlooking the Albert Nile, the section of the Nile that feeds into Lake Albert, which is on the border of Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. You could hear the hippos snorting in the river from there.
On Saturday we started at 6:30 and headed into Murchison Falls National Park. We spent the morning driving in the party van, looking at lots of gazelles and buffalo, and some awesome giraffes. They are actually a lot shorter than I thought they would be, especially the females. And then we found a lion! A male lion with only three legs. It turns out that poachers had set a wire trap and he had been unlucky enough to get caught in it. The rangers at the park had to call a vet to operate in order to save him. Part of the reason that we saw him was because he couldn't walk far without getting tired, so he kept stopping. F*ing poachers. I will punch you in the face. All of you.
We found his wife and cubs, who take care of him now by bringing him food. We couldn't get as close to them, though, since female lions are more aggressive, especially when it comes to cubs, and will actually jump in your car and mess you up.
Moving on, we saw a group of hippos in a little lake, where Emma cut up pineapple and we ate it right out of the rind for breakfast (it was only about 8 or 9 am at this point).
The sun roof was big enough for three of us to stand on the seat at a time and have half of their bodies out of the car. Riding through the savannah was amazing. I stayed up there until the people still in the back made me get down so they could have a turn.
After lunch, we drove out to the actual falls. I have never seen a more beautiful waterfall.
Murchison Falls could reasonably be called "Jaws of Death", because that's what it looked like. Huge amounts of rushing water are pushed into a narrow but deep cavern of dark stone that empties into a yawning chasm. There is a whirlpool developed there, and the water proceeds down a short distance before emptying into the calm Albert-Nile. The cliffs are covered in lush greenery and trees hang on their edges. A fine mist pervades the air from the crashing waves.
Okay, sorry, that description was really fun to write. Anyway.
We hiked about 45 minutes through the woods and ended up on some rocks that stuck out into the water. We waited a while for a boat (previously chartered) to pick us up. Many boats full of tourists, who were mostly British for some reason, stared at us like we were wildlife and some of them even took pictures. Mikey summed up our reaction the best: "In 5 years, they'll look at those pictures and say, "I'm glad we took pictures of those random people. That was really significant."
Our boat picked us up eventually. We saw HUGE crocodiles and some more hippos on the way back to our port. As we neared land, we noticed a giant, foreboding storm cloud coming closer to us. We didn't really have a choice but to go ahead and wait for it to hit. The rain started pounding us and lighting/thunder were right there. There was a group of young tourist girls and their moms on the boat, and they were literally crying and saying, "We're gonna die."
Our reaction, on the other hand, was to ask for free beer. They said no.
After the boat ride, we headed back to the campsite to shower and change, and had another delicious meal. We got up this morning at 3:40 am (I don't think I've ever gotten up that early for anything ever) and headed back to Massindi to go find some chimps. Emma picked up some guy in town who said he was a chimp guide, God knows why he didn't pick someone with credentials, and the guy hopped in our car and drove with us to where there were some chimps in a field, eating sugarcane. We walked over to them slowly, and the guy basically was just like, "Walk slowly." We got really close to the chimps, but after a few minutes they started talking to each other. We all exchanged looks. This continued until the biggest male jumped into the tree nearest us and loomed over us menacingly. We then decided that it was time to go. We dropped the "guide" off (Emma disinterestedly handed him 1000 shillings and told him to get out) and we headed back to town. We dropped off Lidia and Claudia at the taxi park so that they could continue their trek across Uganda, and headed home. I got back at about 3:30 and have been chilling at home ever since.
This was hands-down one of the best weekends of my life. I saw amazing landscapes, exotic animals, and just chilled with some awesome people. The world is just awesome. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0jZzBEKIMc)
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Jinja/Kakira: I'm glad you think of me as the misunderstood teenage daughter.
Life is a lot less fun when eating is not something to look forward to.
Yeah, whatever I had, it wasn’t malaria, so I’m still sick. I went to a good doctor today instead of the people at Crescent Medical Center and she thinks I have a bacterial thing. Hopefully I’ll know by tomorrow when my lab results are in. But for the past week, every time I have to have a meal, it’s literally painful. My host family thinks, for some reason, that when you have stomach problems you should eat big meals, so they get upset when I don’t want to eat much. Mama Fina hovers and makes me feel guilty about not eating, and I’m just like, “I’M DOING MY BEST, OK.” It’s really frustrating. Also, I have to say, I’m getting sick of Ugandan food. It’s not bad, I’ve just never lived in a place where you literally eat the same four things every single day—matooke (steamed and mashed plaintains), beans, rice, and greens. I never considered how most developing countries have only a few staple foods—and that’s actually all the people eat. People always ask what I eat in the U.S., and it’s hard to explain, since there’s so much variety. If you name one or two things you like, people tend to assume that you eat those things every day. That is one thing I really miss about the U.S.: variety. But when you can barely get the food or the water to cook it with, I suppose that it isn’t something you worry about. First world problem right there.
I haven’t posted in a bit since I have just been lying around sick, so not much to report. (I’m sure you’ve all been waiting with bated breath for my next utterance.) Becky and I went to Jinja today to shop around for some stuff for the agriculture project—mainly improved maize seeds, saucepans to cook the porridge, and hoes for digging/planting. We bought ten hoes with handle sticks for a little less than we’d budgeted for—score!—but none of the agriculture stores had the seeds we needed, since farmers are on those seeds at the beginning of the planting season like a mother on Target at 5 am on Black Friday . Hopefully they will be in tomorrow.
Our search for saucepans took us to the scrap yards at the edge of town, which were almost their own village. The place was a labyrinth of stalls with ridged metal roofs where men worked on metal using hammers and iron pegs. Scrap is big business in Uganda—in fact, it’s probably the reason that the borehole at Kagogwa Primary was broken in the first place. Many of the boreholes in Uganda are vandalized because people want the parts from the pumps so that they can sell them. The fact that any usable metal is so valuable results in the sprawl of the scrap yards, which I’m sure exist in Kampala and elsewhere as well as Jinja. While we were walking through looking at different sizes of saucepans, I kept trying to think of the best way to describe it—the only thing I can think of, and this may be totally off-base, is what shipyards in Dickens’ London must have looked like. It was really cool, but kind of scary, since it was clear that it was not a place that mzungus went (ever) and we were drawing even more attention than usual. We weren’t able to get a fair price for anything, so we made a deal with a shop owner near the big market in Jinja for a special order of saucepans that will be less than a third of the price of one saucepan in the scrap yard. So that was work today—hopefully we will be back up at the school soon to meet with parents, which we haven’t done yet. We only have a week and half of work left!
Yeah, whatever I had, it wasn’t malaria, so I’m still sick. I went to a good doctor today instead of the people at Crescent Medical Center and she thinks I have a bacterial thing. Hopefully I’ll know by tomorrow when my lab results are in. But for the past week, every time I have to have a meal, it’s literally painful. My host family thinks, for some reason, that when you have stomach problems you should eat big meals, so they get upset when I don’t want to eat much. Mama Fina hovers and makes me feel guilty about not eating, and I’m just like, “I’M DOING MY BEST, OK.” It’s really frustrating. Also, I have to say, I’m getting sick of Ugandan food. It’s not bad, I’ve just never lived in a place where you literally eat the same four things every single day—matooke (steamed and mashed plaintains), beans, rice, and greens. I never considered how most developing countries have only a few staple foods—and that’s actually all the people eat. People always ask what I eat in the U.S., and it’s hard to explain, since there’s so much variety. If you name one or two things you like, people tend to assume that you eat those things every day. That is one thing I really miss about the U.S.: variety. But when you can barely get the food or the water to cook it with, I suppose that it isn’t something you worry about. First world problem right there.
I haven’t posted in a bit since I have just been lying around sick, so not much to report. (I’m sure you’ve all been waiting with bated breath for my next utterance.) Becky and I went to Jinja today to shop around for some stuff for the agriculture project—mainly improved maize seeds, saucepans to cook the porridge, and hoes for digging/planting. We bought ten hoes with handle sticks for a little less than we’d budgeted for—score!—but none of the agriculture stores had the seeds we needed, since farmers are on those seeds at the beginning of the planting season like a mother on Target at 5 am on Black Friday . Hopefully they will be in tomorrow.
Our search for saucepans took us to the scrap yards at the edge of town, which were almost their own village. The place was a labyrinth of stalls with ridged metal roofs where men worked on metal using hammers and iron pegs. Scrap is big business in Uganda—in fact, it’s probably the reason that the borehole at Kagogwa Primary was broken in the first place. Many of the boreholes in Uganda are vandalized because people want the parts from the pumps so that they can sell them. The fact that any usable metal is so valuable results in the sprawl of the scrap yards, which I’m sure exist in Kampala and elsewhere as well as Jinja. While we were walking through looking at different sizes of saucepans, I kept trying to think of the best way to describe it—the only thing I can think of, and this may be totally off-base, is what shipyards in Dickens’ London must have looked like. It was really cool, but kind of scary, since it was clear that it was not a place that mzungus went (ever) and we were drawing even more attention than usual. We weren’t able to get a fair price for anything, so we made a deal with a shop owner near the big market in Jinja for a special order of saucepans that will be less than a third of the price of one saucepan in the scrap yard. So that was work today—hopefully we will be back up at the school soon to meet with parents, which we haven’t done yet. We only have a week and half of work left!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Jinja: "Note to self: An overnight stay in a third-world hospital is not an experience to repeat."
I got malaria. Hey, one of the interns had to get it. It's like the lottery; somebody has to win, so it might as well be you.
I had been feeling like there was glass in my stomach for about three days, so on Wednesday morning I called Margaret, my Site Director and pseudo-mother, to ask about seeing a doctor. She came out to Kakira in her car and picked me up, along with Caroline, the American member of the FSD site team. They took me to Crescent Islamic Health Center ("Allah is Healer"--if so, I don't think he likes me much) and they tested my blood for malaria and tested my blood's acidity. My blood pressure was also really low--about 89 over 54. The malaria test came back positive, so they decided that I would have to stay overnight so that I could get three quinine drips. I didn't really want to mess around with malaria, and I have no idea of the treatment options, so I went with it.
I got a private room, and the bed was pretty comfortable. Hospitals here are basically semi-clean places with single-person beds. You get provided with one bed sheet and a pillow. They hooked me up to an IV on a rusty metal holder (you've probably seen them in medical shows, except they have wheels and are not rusty with paint flaking off). Some of the other interns came to visit me--thanks Becky, Kirk, and Amanda--and the whole FSD staff came too and checked on me/brought me lunch and dinner. So the first six hours or so were not bad.
Mama Fina came at about 7 pm to stay the night in the empty bed in my room. After about 8, she pretty much insisted that I lie down in the bed with a ridiculously huge blanket which made it sweltering. I saw no point in arguing, so I was basically in bed from 8 or 8:30. The night that followed was pretty terrible. I more or less didn't sleep and I started vomiting at about 3 am. This continued into the morning, even if I didn't eat anything. Margaret came back to see me around 9 am and took one look at me, then went out and talked to the doctor. He came in and was like, "Oh I guess it's the quinine that's making you sick. We're going to take you off of that." (This after I had gotten it pumped into my bloodstream for twelve hours.) Margaret told them to just give me the injection for malaria, and then I was like, "So...can I go home?" And the nurses said, "We don't want to send you home if you're vomiting." "Well whose fault is it that I've been vomiting since 3 am?" I was getting out of that place if it killed me (because staying there definitely would have, so I decided to take my chances).
Anyway, I insisted for about an hour and they eventually decided that I could leave, as long as I came back Friday and Saturday for two more injections and took the pills they gave me. FSD got a car to come pick up me and Mama Fina and we went home, where I showered and crawled into bed. I am currently resting at home, because I decided to play it safe and not go to work today either (sorry St. Eliza's! I've basically missed half of the week).
But yeah, so that was fun. Also, randomly, a cat kept trying to come into my hospital room and sleep in the middle of the floor in there. Just my room. It was really persistent. I don't know where it came from, but it really liked me or my floor or something. Many thanks to everyone who brought me books and cookies, talked to the doctors, and who genuinely cared about getting me healthy--Margaret, Caroline, and Jonan from FSD, Becky, Kirk, and Amanda, for cheering me up and keeping me company (and Becky for letting me have your book to read), the nice nurse who took care of me during the daytime, and especially Mama Fina, who stayed with me all night and fussed over me and kept trying to make me drink fluids. Thank you everybody!
I had been feeling like there was glass in my stomach for about three days, so on Wednesday morning I called Margaret, my Site Director and pseudo-mother, to ask about seeing a doctor. She came out to Kakira in her car and picked me up, along with Caroline, the American member of the FSD site team. They took me to Crescent Islamic Health Center ("Allah is Healer"--if so, I don't think he likes me much) and they tested my blood for malaria and tested my blood's acidity. My blood pressure was also really low--about 89 over 54. The malaria test came back positive, so they decided that I would have to stay overnight so that I could get three quinine drips. I didn't really want to mess around with malaria, and I have no idea of the treatment options, so I went with it.
I got a private room, and the bed was pretty comfortable. Hospitals here are basically semi-clean places with single-person beds. You get provided with one bed sheet and a pillow. They hooked me up to an IV on a rusty metal holder (you've probably seen them in medical shows, except they have wheels and are not rusty with paint flaking off). Some of the other interns came to visit me--thanks Becky, Kirk, and Amanda--and the whole FSD staff came too and checked on me/brought me lunch and dinner. So the first six hours or so were not bad.
Mama Fina came at about 7 pm to stay the night in the empty bed in my room. After about 8, she pretty much insisted that I lie down in the bed with a ridiculously huge blanket which made it sweltering. I saw no point in arguing, so I was basically in bed from 8 or 8:30. The night that followed was pretty terrible. I more or less didn't sleep and I started vomiting at about 3 am. This continued into the morning, even if I didn't eat anything. Margaret came back to see me around 9 am and took one look at me, then went out and talked to the doctor. He came in and was like, "Oh I guess it's the quinine that's making you sick. We're going to take you off of that." (This after I had gotten it pumped into my bloodstream for twelve hours.) Margaret told them to just give me the injection for malaria, and then I was like, "So...can I go home?" And the nurses said, "We don't want to send you home if you're vomiting." "Well whose fault is it that I've been vomiting since 3 am?" I was getting out of that place if it killed me (because staying there definitely would have, so I decided to take my chances).
Anyway, I insisted for about an hour and they eventually decided that I could leave, as long as I came back Friday and Saturday for two more injections and took the pills they gave me. FSD got a car to come pick up me and Mama Fina and we went home, where I showered and crawled into bed. I am currently resting at home, because I decided to play it safe and not go to work today either (sorry St. Eliza's! I've basically missed half of the week).
But yeah, so that was fun. Also, randomly, a cat kept trying to come into my hospital room and sleep in the middle of the floor in there. Just my room. It was really persistent. I don't know where it came from, but it really liked me or my floor or something. Many thanks to everyone who brought me books and cookies, talked to the doctors, and who genuinely cared about getting me healthy--Margaret, Caroline, and Jonan from FSD, Becky, Kirk, and Amanda, for cheering me up and keeping me company (and Becky for letting me have your book to read), the nice nurse who took care of me during the daytime, and especially Mama Fina, who stayed with me all night and fussed over me and kept trying to make me drink fluids. Thank you everybody!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Kakira: Mo' money mo' problems
Hey, we actually got stuff done today. We went up to Kagogwa Primary and met with some of the teachers and the committee members. And guess what: the borehole is fixed! So now the school has clean, drinkable water a few steps away. Unfortunately, it cost more than we anticipated—about 700,000 shillings (roughly 318 USD, a little under half of our budget). A lot of the language in the meeting made us uncomfortable, since they kept referring to us as “their saviors” and a couple of times as “the funders”. That’s exactly the opposite of the type of development we’re doing. We aren’t here to give out money, we’re here to show people how they can solve their own problems and chip in a few extra resources that they might not be able to get. We’ve worked really hard to convey that we don’t have that much money and that we aren’t just going to throw funds at people. Mo’ money mo’ problems, I guess. Anyway, it’s better than just sitting in the office all day.
In a completely different vein, I wanted to talk about parenting/family norms here, because they are very different from norms in the US. First of all, parents never tell their children that they love them. When some of the mothers in our house told us this, they explained by saying that “It’s not there.” I guess that means that they don’t see their feeling for their kids as love? I’m not really sure though, so please don’t take my cultural observations as fact. Anyway, in Uganda, you only tell your boyfriend/husband that you love him, and not anybody else. You have certain obligations to your parents, siblings, and children, but you only “love” that one person.
Children are also left alone more once they are about 6 or 7 years old, and the girls have a lot of responsibility as caretakers of the younger children. I’ve seen girls who can’t be older than 4 or 5 carrying babies on their backs while carrying jerry cans full of water, and they walk alone on the roads. This may be because of necessity in a lot of cases, seeing that even in a two-income household most parents can’t afford babysitters and I personally have never seen a day care. As far as I can tell, children are either left alone, with a friend, or with a family member—only in rich families can they be left with a live-in servant, and I’ve never heard of a child being taken care of in an institutional setting outside of regular school. I can’t imagine being in charge of a baby now, let alone when I was 6 years old.
Discipline is pretty harsh here. As I mentioned in an earlier post, caning is still a common practice in schools, but discipline extends to the family. I’ve seen parents slap the hands of their young children away because they said, “His/her hands are dirty.” I saw this happen to one of the most affectionate 3-year-olds I’ve ever met, and she was crestfallen. Even the live-in maids/cooks are harsh with the kids. Our old maid, Farita, would hit Fina’s grandkids and yell at them (she’s gone now—all the members of the house told us was that “She did not do her work very well, so we sent her away”). Now we have Sandra, who is much nicer, but still, I’m pretty sure that that wouldn’t fly in the US.
I’m not trying to critique parenting in Ugandan culture, or say that it’s better/worse than in the US. It’s just different.
In a completely different vein, I wanted to talk about parenting/family norms here, because they are very different from norms in the US. First of all, parents never tell their children that they love them. When some of the mothers in our house told us this, they explained by saying that “It’s not there.” I guess that means that they don’t see their feeling for their kids as love? I’m not really sure though, so please don’t take my cultural observations as fact. Anyway, in Uganda, you only tell your boyfriend/husband that you love him, and not anybody else. You have certain obligations to your parents, siblings, and children, but you only “love” that one person.
Children are also left alone more once they are about 6 or 7 years old, and the girls have a lot of responsibility as caretakers of the younger children. I’ve seen girls who can’t be older than 4 or 5 carrying babies on their backs while carrying jerry cans full of water, and they walk alone on the roads. This may be because of necessity in a lot of cases, seeing that even in a two-income household most parents can’t afford babysitters and I personally have never seen a day care. As far as I can tell, children are either left alone, with a friend, or with a family member—only in rich families can they be left with a live-in servant, and I’ve never heard of a child being taken care of in an institutional setting outside of regular school. I can’t imagine being in charge of a baby now, let alone when I was 6 years old.
Discipline is pretty harsh here. As I mentioned in an earlier post, caning is still a common practice in schools, but discipline extends to the family. I’ve seen parents slap the hands of their young children away because they said, “His/her hands are dirty.” I saw this happen to one of the most affectionate 3-year-olds I’ve ever met, and she was crestfallen. Even the live-in maids/cooks are harsh with the kids. Our old maid, Farita, would hit Fina’s grandkids and yell at them (she’s gone now—all the members of the house told us was that “She did not do her work very well, so we sent her away”). Now we have Sandra, who is much nicer, but still, I’m pretty sure that that wouldn’t fly in the US.
I’m not trying to critique parenting in Ugandan culture, or say that it’s better/worse than in the US. It’s just different.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Jinja/Kakira: "I mean, I can carry it, I'll just fall over 5 times on the way"
Why are my weekends always so ridiculous?
So I went with the other interns to Backpackers in Jinja on Friday night and we just hung out that night and got free Internet. Then on Saturday we had an exchange program with students from Busoga University which was mostly about microfinance. It was long, boring, and irrelevant to all but four of us. No offense to FSD (who set it up).
Afterwards, we went to the Agriculture Show, which is basically the biggest fair in Uganda. Even President Museveni went to it. Mostly we just shopped in the African Village and bought mzungu-touristy things. I bought a painting for my apartment next year, which I'm pretty happy about. But yeah, just good shopping times.
On Sunday, Becky and I headed back to Kakira. We hung out for most of the day, and Mama Fina's daughter Tyra came over with her young son, Jaden. Some of Tyra's friends from Kampala came too. Jaden is the cutest kid ever, and I don't even like kids that much. He's really taken to Becky, and keeps trying to come into our room and get on her bed. (He's 2, so not in a creepy way.) Anyway, Tyra's friends had brought a truck and were going to go fetch lots of water since we really needed water. They asked us to go, and we said yes. We sat in the back of the truck with about 20 jerry cans and headed off to the Madhvani compound, since that's the only place to find water.
We drove through the factory part at sunset, which was cool. Steam was coming out of a big grid of pipes behind the building and continued to drive back into the forest part where most of the houses are. We went to the tap, and it was just a trickle--there was no way we were getting much water there. Ruth made a call (she came too) and we backed out and headed down one of the back roads. There was a woman who had a water tank and we started putting water in the jerry cans. It was going to take a while, so we headed over to the Madhvani guest house and got some tea/alcohol and snacks. When we got back, all of the jerry cans were full, so we loaded them up and headed back. It took us four hours, in total.
I never thought I was going to spend four hours fetching water in Africa. One of the guys from Kampala said, "The water problem is bad here, yeah? I've never seen anything like it." So fetching water, crazy market, and...boring class all day Saturday. I never know what to expect...
So I went with the other interns to Backpackers in Jinja on Friday night and we just hung out that night and got free Internet. Then on Saturday we had an exchange program with students from Busoga University which was mostly about microfinance. It was long, boring, and irrelevant to all but four of us. No offense to FSD (who set it up).
Afterwards, we went to the Agriculture Show, which is basically the biggest fair in Uganda. Even President Museveni went to it. Mostly we just shopped in the African Village and bought mzungu-touristy things. I bought a painting for my apartment next year, which I'm pretty happy about. But yeah, just good shopping times.
On Sunday, Becky and I headed back to Kakira. We hung out for most of the day, and Mama Fina's daughter Tyra came over with her young son, Jaden. Some of Tyra's friends from Kampala came too. Jaden is the cutest kid ever, and I don't even like kids that much. He's really taken to Becky, and keeps trying to come into our room and get on her bed. (He's 2, so not in a creepy way.) Anyway, Tyra's friends had brought a truck and were going to go fetch lots of water since we really needed water. They asked us to go, and we said yes. We sat in the back of the truck with about 20 jerry cans and headed off to the Madhvani compound, since that's the only place to find water.
We drove through the factory part at sunset, which was cool. Steam was coming out of a big grid of pipes behind the building and continued to drive back into the forest part where most of the houses are. We went to the tap, and it was just a trickle--there was no way we were getting much water there. Ruth made a call (she came too) and we backed out and headed down one of the back roads. There was a woman who had a water tank and we started putting water in the jerry cans. It was going to take a while, so we headed over to the Madhvani guest house and got some tea/alcohol and snacks. When we got back, all of the jerry cans were full, so we loaded them up and headed back. It took us four hours, in total.
I never thought I was going to spend four hours fetching water in Africa. One of the guys from Kampala said, "The water problem is bad here, yeah? I've never seen anything like it." So fetching water, crazy market, and...boring class all day Saturday. I never know what to expect...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Kakira: "It's a different world..."
After work today, Ruth took us around the Madhvani Group complex, which encompasses Kakira Sugar Works, a sweets store, a guest house, a huge garage, a lot of houses for employees/owners, a school, and probably a bunch of other stuff. At one point, while we were walking down one of Madhvani's paved roads with perfectly manicured bushes and lawns on either side, Becky said, "This reminds me of Disney World." Yeah, it's that different.
First we went and saw the main hall, which has tennis courts, what looked like a stage, and two gyms (one for men, one for women). Then we went to the temple--Madhvani employs a lot of Indian Hindus, and as far as I know this is the only Hindu temple in the area. It was small, but still really pretty.
One of the first buildings we actually went inside was the Guest House, which was hands-down the nicest building I've ever been in while here in Uganda. It might as well have been an American hotel for rich people visiting the Florida beaches. It even had a VIP cottage called the Lion's Cottage (it has a metal gate outside it with two huge lions carved into the doors). The place had leather couches, white floors so clean I could see my face in them, running water, a nicer shower than the one in my house in Cincinnati, a plasma TV in each of the two huge bedrooms...I was like, "I'ma live here from now on. But seriously, we need to bring the other GESI people here and have a mzungu party."
We moved on to wander through the residential section of the complex, which has houses in it that could very well be homes seen in Beverly Hills (I'm not exaggerating! They were crazy nice!). The grounds were pristine and beautifully landscaped. The Madhvani complex never loses power and every building has running water.
Only half a mile away, people live in houses made of mud pasted onto sticks. They can't get any water, let alone clean water, except by stealing it from Madhvani--the water at the station is diverted from the company's irrigation lines that water the sugar cane. Most people don't have electricity in their homes and their last priority is landscaping--if there were even any plants left in the village to work with.
I know that last paragraph rings of indignation and righteous fury for the plight of humankind, but I understand that there are two sides to every story. Madhvani is part of the reason that Kakira is as populated as it is, and it employs a lot of people in its offices who otherwise wouldn't have stable work. They already take a lot of responsibility for many of the people that they employ, giving them housing that's nicer than anything they could afford otherwise and providing many of the employees' children with good education.
But the Madhvani Group is the reason that Kakira is, in large part, a slum. It brought scores of people here from all over Uganda, especially people from the north who wanted to escape the war there, to work the cane fields. But they fired a lot of those people--the laborers at Madhvani do not seem to get much consideration--and most couldn't afford to get back to the place they had started from. Even if they had been able to go back, many of them had been away for 5 or 10 years--what was the point? And many of those from the north had been fleeing from Joseph Koni's holy war, and had no motivation to return. So they stayed put, just outside the barbed wire ringing the compound's walls, and Kakira grew.
So that's Madhvani and Kakira. I came home after touring the compound and sat under the stars, which were unusually bright tonight. I sat and ate a coconut that I bought in the market, and despite all of the problems that I'd seen, I felt really at peace. I listened to the now-familiar prayers from the mosque and just thought that I was happy to be here. That may seem incongruous with the entire post above, but I thought I'd put it in since it was important to me.
Thanks for being worried everybody--it's okay, I have money that I'm using to buy bottled water from the supermarket. I will surviiive...
First we went and saw the main hall, which has tennis courts, what looked like a stage, and two gyms (one for men, one for women). Then we went to the temple--Madhvani employs a lot of Indian Hindus, and as far as I know this is the only Hindu temple in the area. It was small, but still really pretty.
One of the first buildings we actually went inside was the Guest House, which was hands-down the nicest building I've ever been in while here in Uganda. It might as well have been an American hotel for rich people visiting the Florida beaches. It even had a VIP cottage called the Lion's Cottage (it has a metal gate outside it with two huge lions carved into the doors). The place had leather couches, white floors so clean I could see my face in them, running water, a nicer shower than the one in my house in Cincinnati, a plasma TV in each of the two huge bedrooms...I was like, "I'ma live here from now on. But seriously, we need to bring the other GESI people here and have a mzungu party."
We moved on to wander through the residential section of the complex, which has houses in it that could very well be homes seen in Beverly Hills (I'm not exaggerating! They were crazy nice!). The grounds were pristine and beautifully landscaped. The Madhvani complex never loses power and every building has running water.
Only half a mile away, people live in houses made of mud pasted onto sticks. They can't get any water, let alone clean water, except by stealing it from Madhvani--the water at the station is diverted from the company's irrigation lines that water the sugar cane. Most people don't have electricity in their homes and their last priority is landscaping--if there were even any plants left in the village to work with.
I know that last paragraph rings of indignation and righteous fury for the plight of humankind, but I understand that there are two sides to every story. Madhvani is part of the reason that Kakira is as populated as it is, and it employs a lot of people in its offices who otherwise wouldn't have stable work. They already take a lot of responsibility for many of the people that they employ, giving them housing that's nicer than anything they could afford otherwise and providing many of the employees' children with good education.
But the Madhvani Group is the reason that Kakira is, in large part, a slum. It brought scores of people here from all over Uganda, especially people from the north who wanted to escape the war there, to work the cane fields. But they fired a lot of those people--the laborers at Madhvani do not seem to get much consideration--and most couldn't afford to get back to the place they had started from. Even if they had been able to go back, many of them had been away for 5 or 10 years--what was the point? And many of those from the north had been fleeing from Joseph Koni's holy war, and had no motivation to return. So they stayed put, just outside the barbed wire ringing the compound's walls, and Kakira grew.
So that's Madhvani and Kakira. I came home after touring the compound and sat under the stars, which were unusually bright tonight. I sat and ate a coconut that I bought in the market, and despite all of the problems that I'd seen, I felt really at peace. I listened to the now-familiar prayers from the mosque and just thought that I was happy to be here. That may seem incongruous with the entire post above, but I thought I'd put it in since it was important to me.
Thanks for being worried everybody--it's okay, I have money that I'm using to buy bottled water from the supermarket. I will surviiive...
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Kakira: He's coming in your compounds, snatching your cows up
A few days ago, somebody broke into our compound in the middle of the night and STOLE TWO OF OUR COWS. (I forgot to mention this in the last post.) They only got into the outer yard, since the inner yard in the back was locked and the front of the house was locked. But still. How do you steal two full-sized cows without anyone hearing you?! It's totally sucks since we get milk from those cows and the three calves kind of need their milk too. We actually found one, which is now safely in the yard, but we're still down one cow. Not cool, mystery cow thief.
On another unhappy note, the water shortage is pretty dire. There is simply no water coming out of the taps anywhere, even at the public water source. The closest water is over at the police station, which is pretty far, especially at night. And the water at the station isn't really safe, either. You can boil it, but it still has a lot of dirt and stuff in it (I've been drinking it--I know). Nobody knows when the water will come back on, but until then, Kakira basically has no water, since most people can't afford to buy bottled.
Work is moving very slowly, but we're going to meet with the committees that we formed on Friday (one to manage the borehole and one to manage the farm/garden) so that we can get started. We haven't done much over the past two days...I'm working on my fourth novel. It's a collection of Herman Melville's short novels; I'm currently on the last one. I'm borrowing a book from Billy to read when I'm done with Herman.
Pretty much. The power's out again, so I'm going to sign off here.
On another unhappy note, the water shortage is pretty dire. There is simply no water coming out of the taps anywhere, even at the public water source. The closest water is over at the police station, which is pretty far, especially at night. And the water at the station isn't really safe, either. You can boil it, but it still has a lot of dirt and stuff in it (I've been drinking it--I know). Nobody knows when the water will come back on, but until then, Kakira basically has no water, since most people can't afford to buy bottled.
Work is moving very slowly, but we're going to meet with the committees that we formed on Friday (one to manage the borehole and one to manage the farm/garden) so that we can get started. We haven't done much over the past two days...I'm working on my fourth novel. It's a collection of Herman Melville's short novels; I'm currently on the last one. I'm borrowing a book from Billy to read when I'm done with Herman.
Pretty much. The power's out again, so I'm going to sign off here.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Jinja/Kampala: Cause when I leave for the night, I ain't comin' back
So I thought this weekend was going to be chill time on Saturday and then church on Sunday. Yeah, well, it wasn't.
On Saturday morning, some of the other interns texted Becky and asked if we wanted to go to the Source of the Nile and hang out. When I say Source of the Nile, I actually mean that we went to the source of the Nile. It's a tourist-type place, and it costs 10,000 shillings to get in (roughly 5 American dollars). It's really beautiful though, and has cool shops and a restaurant. So we mostly chilled there for the day. I spent a lot of money on gifts for the people back home. And visited the source of the most important river in the history of human civilization. Not a bad day, all in all.
Then Ruth, one of our host sisters, told us when we got home that it was Palautira's birthday the next day, and did we want to go to Kampala for her party on Sunday? Tira is the youngest of Mama Fina's 10 children. We said yes--Becky and I had actually been planning to avoid Kampala, because it's scary and far away, and it's close to the anniversary of some terrorist attacks that killed a bunch of foreigners last year. The terrorist group said they would do something again near their anniversary, so we kind of wanted to avoid being white people in Kampala right now. But since Ruth was taking us, and she's basically a BAMF when it comes to getting around Uganda safely, we decided to go.
It took us about 2 and half hours to get there by boda and mutatu. We arrived at midday and hung out with Tira, Tyra (also Mama Fina's daughter) Ruth and Tira's friend Becky in the kitchen. We even helped cook a little, which was fun. (I was standing in the kitchen in a borrowed African dress from Tira and cooking an African dish, and I was like, "For an American I'm pretty African right now.")
Slowly people started trickling in when it got later and the drinking began. I can see how you could get really drunk, because people offer you drinks every 5 minutes. You may be holding a bottle and they'll be like, "Another bottle?"
The appointed MC/emcee of the party came up with a game, which was basically forcing two people to dance together. Basically he would pick somebody out and they would have to pick somebody of the opposite gender to dance with. Becky got to pick the guy she danced with; I got picked by a guy. It was fun(ny) though. Also, her funniest moment of the night was when the MC was switching us around the room to mix guys and girls, and he put me in between two huge Ugandan men (who were actually very nice and gentlemanly, for the record). So Becky just looked over and saw me sandwiched between two huge guys on a couch made for three people that had four people on it, and started laughing.
We danced and drank until about midnight, at which point it was too late to go back to Kakira, since it's dangerous to travel that distance late at night. We stayed at Tyra's place, with me and Becky sharing a bed. Despite me rolling on her a few times, we bonded ("We're going to be so close after this!")
We got up at 5:30 am and got on a taxi, after a bunch of African men fought over us so that we would get in their taxis (we let Ruth do the talking) and made it back to Kakira in time for work this morning. All in all, a really fun and crazy weekend. Now we have to do work...
On Saturday morning, some of the other interns texted Becky and asked if we wanted to go to the Source of the Nile and hang out. When I say Source of the Nile, I actually mean that we went to the source of the Nile. It's a tourist-type place, and it costs 10,000 shillings to get in (roughly 5 American dollars). It's really beautiful though, and has cool shops and a restaurant. So we mostly chilled there for the day. I spent a lot of money on gifts for the people back home. And visited the source of the most important river in the history of human civilization. Not a bad day, all in all.
Then Ruth, one of our host sisters, told us when we got home that it was Palautira's birthday the next day, and did we want to go to Kampala for her party on Sunday? Tira is the youngest of Mama Fina's 10 children. We said yes--Becky and I had actually been planning to avoid Kampala, because it's scary and far away, and it's close to the anniversary of some terrorist attacks that killed a bunch of foreigners last year. The terrorist group said they would do something again near their anniversary, so we kind of wanted to avoid being white people in Kampala right now. But since Ruth was taking us, and she's basically a BAMF when it comes to getting around Uganda safely, we decided to go.
It took us about 2 and half hours to get there by boda and mutatu. We arrived at midday and hung out with Tira, Tyra (also Mama Fina's daughter) Ruth and Tira's friend Becky in the kitchen. We even helped cook a little, which was fun. (I was standing in the kitchen in a borrowed African dress from Tira and cooking an African dish, and I was like, "For an American I'm pretty African right now.")
Slowly people started trickling in when it got later and the drinking began. I can see how you could get really drunk, because people offer you drinks every 5 minutes. You may be holding a bottle and they'll be like, "Another bottle?"
The appointed MC/emcee of the party came up with a game, which was basically forcing two people to dance together. Basically he would pick somebody out and they would have to pick somebody of the opposite gender to dance with. Becky got to pick the guy she danced with; I got picked by a guy. It was fun(ny) though. Also, her funniest moment of the night was when the MC was switching us around the room to mix guys and girls, and he put me in between two huge Ugandan men (who were actually very nice and gentlemanly, for the record). So Becky just looked over and saw me sandwiched between two huge guys on a couch made for three people that had four people on it, and started laughing.
We danced and drank until about midnight, at which point it was too late to go back to Kakira, since it's dangerous to travel that distance late at night. We stayed at Tyra's place, with me and Becky sharing a bed. Despite me rolling on her a few times, we bonded ("We're going to be so close after this!")
We got up at 5:30 am and got on a taxi, after a bunch of African men fought over us so that we would get in their taxis (we let Ruth do the talking) and made it back to Kakira in time for work this morning. All in all, a really fun and crazy weekend. Now we have to do work...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Kakira: Where's the church? Who took the steeple? Religion's in the hands of some crazy-ass people
You know one thing I really like about Uganda? The religious freedom. It's a really religious country, but people don't bug you about what you believe (as long as you believe in something--atheists and agnostics, you will have a harder time here). My family, for instance, brings together a bunch of religions under one roof. Mama Fina is Catholic, Annette is a Born Again Christian pastor, her son Ali is a devout Muslim...we have a lot going on up in here. I asked Annette if she would take me to see her church for prayers this Sunday, and she said I could, so I'll be going to the Born Again service tomorrow. Becky goes with Mama Fina to Mass since she's actually a Catholic.
Hmm, being around so many religious people almost makes me wish I had a little faith. No easy fix for that one, I suppose. I'm a little jealous of Ugandans' strong faith.
But anyone can do what they want religiously here, which is great. It's really nice to see people who are different religions coexist. Even some married couples have different religions; for example, Billy and Robert's host dad is Christian and their mom is Muslim.
Another interesting things about Uganda is the school system. We've visited a lot of schools, and they're all what you would think of when you think of an old movie about British schools (I'm sure that's what they're modeled on). Long, dark wooden desks and benches behind them, and the teacher has a little wooden table at the front. When an authority figure comes in, all the children stand up together and respond in unison when spoken to. "Hello class 4." "Hello sir, you are welcome." "You have visitors today, and you are very lucky." "Yes, sir." And so on. It's kind of creepy the way the responses are so drilled into them.
Ugandan kids study 20 subjects in their first year of secondary school! 20! We asked Ali to tell them to us, since we couldn't imagine 20 subjects for all the students to study. Some of them were Math, English, Physics, Building/Construction, Technical Drawing...I can't even remember all of them. By the end of secondary, you have selected a smaller number of subjects that you like and you end up concentrating in either science or arts courses.
Caning is also widely practiced in Ugandan schools. There is definitely support getting organized against the practice, but it hasn't gained that much momentum at this point. Ali told us that in some schools, they cane by numbers, like the student is expected to count from 1 to 100 and however many numbers they miss, that's how many lashes they get. So if you get to 99, you only get hit once. If you only get to 45, you get hit 55 times. (I'm pretty sure he wasn't lying to us.)
By the way, the title of this post is from the Jimmy Buffet song "Fruitcakes". I am not funny enough to write that line.
Hmm, being around so many religious people almost makes me wish I had a little faith. No easy fix for that one, I suppose. I'm a little jealous of Ugandans' strong faith.
But anyone can do what they want religiously here, which is great. It's really nice to see people who are different religions coexist. Even some married couples have different religions; for example, Billy and Robert's host dad is Christian and their mom is Muslim.
Another interesting things about Uganda is the school system. We've visited a lot of schools, and they're all what you would think of when you think of an old movie about British schools (I'm sure that's what they're modeled on). Long, dark wooden desks and benches behind them, and the teacher has a little wooden table at the front. When an authority figure comes in, all the children stand up together and respond in unison when spoken to. "Hello class 4." "Hello sir, you are welcome." "You have visitors today, and you are very lucky." "Yes, sir." And so on. It's kind of creepy the way the responses are so drilled into them.
Ugandan kids study 20 subjects in their first year of secondary school! 20! We asked Ali to tell them to us, since we couldn't imagine 20 subjects for all the students to study. Some of them were Math, English, Physics, Building/Construction, Technical Drawing...I can't even remember all of them. By the end of secondary, you have selected a smaller number of subjects that you like and you end up concentrating in either science or arts courses.
Caning is also widely practiced in Ugandan schools. There is definitely support getting organized against the practice, but it hasn't gained that much momentum at this point. Ali told us that in some schools, they cane by numbers, like the student is expected to count from 1 to 100 and however many numbers they miss, that's how many lashes they get. So if you get to 99, you only get hit once. If you only get to 45, you get hit 55 times. (I'm pretty sure he wasn't lying to us.)
By the way, the title of this post is from the Jimmy Buffet song "Fruitcakes". I am not funny enough to write that line.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Kakira: Your mother told you there'd be days like these...
Today, we went and sat in the office for...all day...for the third day in a row. BUT. Something actually happened! We finally got a guy to go out and look at the water pump and give us a quote. We think we will be able to fix it and train someone in the village to fix it as well, so that he/she will not only be able to fix the pump at the school in Kagogwa, but will also be able to make money since pump technicians are in high demand. We also got an agricultural expert up to the school to check out the land. She will have the specifics for us tomorrow on what we need and how much everything will cost. So we still don't have a formal budget or workplan, but we should after tomorrow. Hooray for progress!
Unfortunately, tempers are starting to run high due to the pace at which the project is proceeding. I am happy to report that I have actually kept my cool, but I think that irritates a few other team members who are freaking out a little bit. It's an intimidating workload that we have ahead, but we can only do what we can do. Also, since our project is inherently dependent on so many people outside our team, there are bound to be some delays and let-downs. But in the end, it will be better than the approach of here-let-us-do-everything-for-you-KTHXBYE. This way, community members will own the project.
Anyway, I've really said all I can say about my work for the moment, so let me move on to some cultural miscellany. Has anybody ever lived with cows? Because let me tell you, they are LOUD. Becky and I usually wake up at 5 am to "MAAAAAAAUUUUUOOOOOOH" (the sound a cow makes is not "moo" like they taught you in preschool. that sound is a lie). I also woke up to one of the cows breathing like Darth Vader outside my window this morning. I was like, "Is that Becky?" And then I realized that it was just Vader Cow, chilling outside my window.
Becky and I also had an in-depth discussion with two of our host brothers last night about homosexuality, which they actually brought up. Just so everyone knows, there is currently a bill pending that will make homosexuality a crime punishable by law, as in they will lock you up for life if they catch you. Apparently, the US and other Western nations have threatened to withdraw a significant portion of aid from Uganda (foreign aid makes up the majority of the country's GDP) if the bill goes through. Anyway, it was an interesting discussion stemming from the fact that Becky goes to Wellesley College, which is all women. They asked about homosexuality there and were pretty surprised to find that most American universities don't discourage homosexuality. Vincent (23, just finished a degree in biomedical tech, fervent Born Again Christian) argues that it's a sin/curse and compared being gay to having HIV/AIDS. He said, "If someone has AIDS, you don't tell them that it's fine and that they can keep spreading it--you isolate them and help them. It's the same with the gays." So...an interesting viewpoint.
Ali, (18, about to go to university for computer engineering) on the other hand, seriously weighed the arguments that Becky and I made, and while he is clearly against homosexuality, he is not blindly so. Nobody changed anybody else's mind, but it was an interesting discussion of cultural norms and beliefs, and it was nice that we were all able to discuss the topic openly.
So yeah, that's my life for the moment. I hope it remains interesting--let me know if my posts are too bogged down with random details.
Unfortunately, tempers are starting to run high due to the pace at which the project is proceeding. I am happy to report that I have actually kept my cool, but I think that irritates a few other team members who are freaking out a little bit. It's an intimidating workload that we have ahead, but we can only do what we can do. Also, since our project is inherently dependent on so many people outside our team, there are bound to be some delays and let-downs. But in the end, it will be better than the approach of here-let-us-do-everything-for-you-KTHXBYE. This way, community members will own the project.
Anyway, I've really said all I can say about my work for the moment, so let me move on to some cultural miscellany. Has anybody ever lived with cows? Because let me tell you, they are LOUD. Becky and I usually wake up at 5 am to "MAAAAAAAUUUUUOOOOOOH" (the sound a cow makes is not "moo" like they taught you in preschool. that sound is a lie). I also woke up to one of the cows breathing like Darth Vader outside my window this morning. I was like, "Is that Becky?" And then I realized that it was just Vader Cow, chilling outside my window.
Becky and I also had an in-depth discussion with two of our host brothers last night about homosexuality, which they actually brought up. Just so everyone knows, there is currently a bill pending that will make homosexuality a crime punishable by law, as in they will lock you up for life if they catch you. Apparently, the US and other Western nations have threatened to withdraw a significant portion of aid from Uganda (foreign aid makes up the majority of the country's GDP) if the bill goes through. Anyway, it was an interesting discussion stemming from the fact that Becky goes to Wellesley College, which is all women. They asked about homosexuality there and were pretty surprised to find that most American universities don't discourage homosexuality. Vincent (23, just finished a degree in biomedical tech, fervent Born Again Christian) argues that it's a sin/curse and compared being gay to having HIV/AIDS. He said, "If someone has AIDS, you don't tell them that it's fine and that they can keep spreading it--you isolate them and help them. It's the same with the gays." So...an interesting viewpoint.
Ali, (18, about to go to university for computer engineering) on the other hand, seriously weighed the arguments that Becky and I made, and while he is clearly against homosexuality, he is not blindly so. Nobody changed anybody else's mind, but it was an interesting discussion of cultural norms and beliefs, and it was nice that we were all able to discuss the topic openly.
So yeah, that's my life for the moment. I hope it remains interesting--let me know if my posts are too bogged down with random details.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Kakira: LOLZ
I did absolutely nothing today.
Here in Uganda, the pace of work is quite slow compared to that of the States. Which is why I literally sat with my fellow interns in the office that we have claimed as home base and did nothing at all, except stare into space and make that's-what-she-said jokes. We all get frustrated with the slow pace, because so much time gets wasted. In Uganda, the idea is that you will always have more time, so you don't really need to hurry. Being late/breaking a commitment is generally not as big a deal either. It's not that I don't respect non-monochromatic cultures, it's just really, really annoying. I don't really want to go home and then be like, "I spent my summer sitting in an office...IN UGANDA."
On the bright side, things did happen today--a teacher meeting happened at Kagogwa Primary so that the teachers can learn about our project and give us the land behind the school. Funnily enough, the almost two acres behind the school are currently planted with maize that is exclusively for the teachers. We found that out yesterday when we went back up to the school and took a look at the land. None of the maize growing there is given to the children (and that much maize is more than enough to feed all of them every day for an entire term). Hmmm.
Also, we called a technician who is going to look at the water pump at the school tomorrow morning and give us a quote for how much it will cost to fix it. He was supposed to look at it today, but he didn't have time--pump technicians are few and far in between and there are a LOT of broken pumps to fix. Hopefully he will follow through and go tomorrow though. After we get the quote, we will decide if fixing the pump is within our means or cut it from our project entirely. There's also the issue of the safety of the water--we will have to figure that out if we get the pump working.
So tomorrow, we should get a set date for a meeting at the school to tell parents about the project and figure out if the water part of the project is still a go. But yeah, we ourselves did just about nothing today.
Meanwhile, on the home front, Becky is no longer sick, which is great. Between the two of us being sick in the past week, Fina was working pretty hard to get us to eat. On an unhappy note, one jerry can of water has now gone up to 1000 shillings from 500 shillings. The family keeps making sure Becky and I have safe water, but I'm not certain how much water they are getting. James, Ali, and Vincent keep having to walk all the way to the gas station near the Madhvani Compound, which is a pretty long way to go at night with a big can of water. That's where the accessible water is, but it's not that safe for drinking (I drank some by accident and didn't get sick though, so I guess my immune system is just awesome). I've never been in the middle of a water shortage...but with the rising prices here, this was bound to happen sooner or later.
Power's out again--we had heavy rain this morning, so I'll stop writing here. Peace out.
Here in Uganda, the pace of work is quite slow compared to that of the States. Which is why I literally sat with my fellow interns in the office that we have claimed as home base and did nothing at all, except stare into space and make that's-what-she-said jokes. We all get frustrated with the slow pace, because so much time gets wasted. In Uganda, the idea is that you will always have more time, so you don't really need to hurry. Being late/breaking a commitment is generally not as big a deal either. It's not that I don't respect non-monochromatic cultures, it's just really, really annoying. I don't really want to go home and then be like, "I spent my summer sitting in an office...IN UGANDA."
On the bright side, things did happen today--a teacher meeting happened at Kagogwa Primary so that the teachers can learn about our project and give us the land behind the school. Funnily enough, the almost two acres behind the school are currently planted with maize that is exclusively for the teachers. We found that out yesterday when we went back up to the school and took a look at the land. None of the maize growing there is given to the children (and that much maize is more than enough to feed all of them every day for an entire term). Hmmm.
Also, we called a technician who is going to look at the water pump at the school tomorrow morning and give us a quote for how much it will cost to fix it. He was supposed to look at it today, but he didn't have time--pump technicians are few and far in between and there are a LOT of broken pumps to fix. Hopefully he will follow through and go tomorrow though. After we get the quote, we will decide if fixing the pump is within our means or cut it from our project entirely. There's also the issue of the safety of the water--we will have to figure that out if we get the pump working.
So tomorrow, we should get a set date for a meeting at the school to tell parents about the project and figure out if the water part of the project is still a go. But yeah, we ourselves did just about nothing today.
Meanwhile, on the home front, Becky is no longer sick, which is great. Between the two of us being sick in the past week, Fina was working pretty hard to get us to eat. On an unhappy note, one jerry can of water has now gone up to 1000 shillings from 500 shillings. The family keeps making sure Becky and I have safe water, but I'm not certain how much water they are getting. James, Ali, and Vincent keep having to walk all the way to the gas station near the Madhvani Compound, which is a pretty long way to go at night with a big can of water. That's where the accessible water is, but it's not that safe for drinking (I drank some by accident and didn't get sick though, so I guess my immune system is just awesome). I've never been in the middle of a water shortage...but with the rising prices here, this was bound to happen sooner or later.
Power's out again--we had heavy rain this morning, so I'll stop writing here. Peace out.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Jinja: "Let me guess. We're about to go over a HUGE waterfall."
Who the hell came up with whitewater rafting? Like, "Oh, let's go down this river in an inflatable boat and try to go over these waves?" It's so stupid.
This is what I was thinking after I had rafted about 10 km down the Nile River in one such inflatable boat, about to go into a rapid with two waves, called "Bad Place" and "Other Place" respectively. We had already rafted over a waterfall and had flipped in a separate rapid.
This epic saga began back in Jinja, at Backpackers Hostel. I had met there with the other interns on my program--we were planning to hang out that night and some of us were planning to go rafting on the Nile the next day. We had a couple drinks at this restuarant called Two Friends, which is the poshest place I've seen here. It's actually exactly what you would expect when thinking about what Africa would look like if you base it on movies like Casablanca. There were some tables near the bar, and scattered over a wide space there were big couches and chairs lit by candlelight. On the other side, there were more big tables. It was filled with old white people, and we couldn't figure out why these people would be in central Uganda. I mean, I'm not hating, but unless you happen to be here for work or are an outdoorsman (or woman, Kasepiki does not discriminate), there's really not a whole lot to do here. We eventually concluded that they were petroleum, telecom, or sugar cane tycoons who were here making shady deals. Seriously, the place looked like it could have been the villain's lair in a Bond movie.
Anyway. After Two Friends (may I recommend the Nile Special? If you like crisp beers, you should give it a try) we headed back to the hostel and talked until lateish.
The next morning we got up at 8 to leave for rafting at 9 am. There were six of us--me, Kirk, Mikey, Liz, Robert, and Billy. Becky was supposed to come, but she was really sick that day, so she stayed back. Mikey and Kirk were extremely hungover, to the point of being barely functioning. All in all, an inauspicious start to the morning. We managed to get our gear (helmets and lifejackets required) and hopped on the bus that would take us to our launching point. After 45 minutes of driving through the beautiful Ugandan countryside (it looks kind of like the Smokey Mountains, but with all red dirt), we got down to the water. We blithely got into our raft and sailed away, blissfully unaware of the day ahead. I should probably mention that none of us had ever been whitewater rafting before this.
Alex, our guide, told us what to do if the boat flipped and how to float down the river. Then we got over to the first rapid, called Overtime, and we could have gone over a normal wavey rapid, but Alex steered us OVER A WATERFALL on purpose. Mikey and Liz were in the front of the boat, and I just remember Mikey looking over the bow and going, "Oh SHIT" before we plunged off. We made that one without flipping, but then on the second one, we flipped. Despite my massive arm strength, I couldn't keep a hold on the safety rope, so I was hurled into the rapids.
For about 5 or 10 seconds I was tossed in the waves, barely managing to take little breaths before the next wave would hit me. Then I saw Liz, which was a relief, since Liz is definitely one of the most competent people I've ever met. We got hauled into one of the boats like fish and eventually made it back to our boat. On the next rapid, Kirk and I sang "Tik Tok" on the way in, and we didn't get flipped that time. Coincidence? I think not.
We got onto a stretch of flat water after that, and--my older brother would have loved it--there was this jungle-y island in the middle of the river where bats were swarming. They were like a cloud over said island, which was pretty big. It was like that scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where they see the bats flying overhead and Willie is like "Ooh, big birds!" And Indiana Jones is like, "Those aren't birds...they're bats." It looked just like that. (Alex, I wish you had been there. You would have loved rafting on the Nile. We would have had so much fun.)
Now, back to Bad Place/Other place. There are two main waves--if Bad Place flips you, you aren't supposed to hold onto the boat because Other Place will continue flipping the boat. We, of course, got flipped in Bad Place, but with so many waves, it was hard for me to tell which wave was THE wave. Basically, I managed to hold onto the boat the one time I wasn't supposed to. I was getting pulled with the boat for a little bit, and eventually it came to a relative stop. I was holding my oar and the rope with the same hand, so I tried to get my other hand on the oar so I could let go. That was when I realized that my arm was pinning Liz to the boat by her neck.
"Letgoletgoletgo!!"
I managed to get free so that she could breathe, and two kayakers picked us up, along with Robert, who was in the same general area. We eventually made it back to the boat--all of us were scattered across the flat pool immediately following the rapid. Alex gave us fresh pineapple (chopped right on the boat and very ripe) and Billy managed to skip a few of the peels on the water between rapids.
Before the last rapid, we were on a stretch of flat water and Alex started pushing us all into the water, so I just jumped in. Kirk and I floated in the Nile for a good 20 minutes (staying in the current so we didn't get left behind) while Mikey and Billy did flips off of the bow. That was a fun interlude. Also, I probably have worms from swimming in the Nile, but whatever, there are pills for that.
Fast forward to the last rapid. It's called the Nile Special, and has one big wave called the Club Wave. Alex steered us into the most intense part of it, and promptly jumped ship so that we would be left on our own. A few seconds after we got into the waves, I see Kirk go flying out of the boat (he's about six feet tall, so it was weird to see him just get chucked into the water). Liz was was also thrown out, but I didn't know that until later. Billy then realized that Alex was gone, so he started screaming, "PADDLE PADDLE PADDLE!" in a rather hysteric fashion. I got up to paddle better but a strong wave threw the boat down and threw me into the bottom of the boat. I looked up to see Mikey at the bow, which was mostly submerged, clinging to the safety rope for dear life and gaping back at the rest of us who had managed to stay on board. Suddenly we were out of the waves and I somehow had Billy's legs on either side of me--I'm guessing he got thrown to the bottom too. We kind of looked around for a minute.
"Holy shit! We're alive!"
We picked up Alex, Liz, and Kirk ("How the hell did you guys manage to stay in the boat?") and then got off at another point on the bank, where BBQ and beer were waiting. The guys went straight for the beer; Liz and I went straight for the changing room (none of them had brought dry clothes or sunscreen, for that matter). We ended up going back to Backpackers and regaling (regaling? regaleing?) the other interns with our harrowing tale.
So now I am back in Kakira, and we'll have work tomorrow--we will finalize our project proposal and draw up a work plan so we can start implementation. But hey, I survived the Nile, so hopefully I can implement a successful project, right?
This is what I was thinking after I had rafted about 10 km down the Nile River in one such inflatable boat, about to go into a rapid with two waves, called "Bad Place" and "Other Place" respectively. We had already rafted over a waterfall and had flipped in a separate rapid.
This epic saga began back in Jinja, at Backpackers Hostel. I had met there with the other interns on my program--we were planning to hang out that night and some of us were planning to go rafting on the Nile the next day. We had a couple drinks at this restuarant called Two Friends, which is the poshest place I've seen here. It's actually exactly what you would expect when thinking about what Africa would look like if you base it on movies like Casablanca. There were some tables near the bar, and scattered over a wide space there were big couches and chairs lit by candlelight. On the other side, there were more big tables. It was filled with old white people, and we couldn't figure out why these people would be in central Uganda. I mean, I'm not hating, but unless you happen to be here for work or are an outdoorsman (or woman, Kasepiki does not discriminate), there's really not a whole lot to do here. We eventually concluded that they were petroleum, telecom, or sugar cane tycoons who were here making shady deals. Seriously, the place looked like it could have been the villain's lair in a Bond movie.
Anyway. After Two Friends (may I recommend the Nile Special? If you like crisp beers, you should give it a try) we headed back to the hostel and talked until lateish.
The next morning we got up at 8 to leave for rafting at 9 am. There were six of us--me, Kirk, Mikey, Liz, Robert, and Billy. Becky was supposed to come, but she was really sick that day, so she stayed back. Mikey and Kirk were extremely hungover, to the point of being barely functioning. All in all, an inauspicious start to the morning. We managed to get our gear (helmets and lifejackets required) and hopped on the bus that would take us to our launching point. After 45 minutes of driving through the beautiful Ugandan countryside (it looks kind of like the Smokey Mountains, but with all red dirt), we got down to the water. We blithely got into our raft and sailed away, blissfully unaware of the day ahead. I should probably mention that none of us had ever been whitewater rafting before this.
Alex, our guide, told us what to do if the boat flipped and how to float down the river. Then we got over to the first rapid, called Overtime, and we could have gone over a normal wavey rapid, but Alex steered us OVER A WATERFALL on purpose. Mikey and Liz were in the front of the boat, and I just remember Mikey looking over the bow and going, "Oh SHIT" before we plunged off. We made that one without flipping, but then on the second one, we flipped. Despite my massive arm strength, I couldn't keep a hold on the safety rope, so I was hurled into the rapids.
For about 5 or 10 seconds I was tossed in the waves, barely managing to take little breaths before the next wave would hit me. Then I saw Liz, which was a relief, since Liz is definitely one of the most competent people I've ever met. We got hauled into one of the boats like fish and eventually made it back to our boat. On the next rapid, Kirk and I sang "Tik Tok" on the way in, and we didn't get flipped that time. Coincidence? I think not.
We got onto a stretch of flat water after that, and--my older brother would have loved it--there was this jungle-y island in the middle of the river where bats were swarming. They were like a cloud over said island, which was pretty big. It was like that scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where they see the bats flying overhead and Willie is like "Ooh, big birds!" And Indiana Jones is like, "Those aren't birds...they're bats." It looked just like that. (Alex, I wish you had been there. You would have loved rafting on the Nile. We would have had so much fun.)
Now, back to Bad Place/Other place. There are two main waves--if Bad Place flips you, you aren't supposed to hold onto the boat because Other Place will continue flipping the boat. We, of course, got flipped in Bad Place, but with so many waves, it was hard for me to tell which wave was THE wave. Basically, I managed to hold onto the boat the one time I wasn't supposed to. I was getting pulled with the boat for a little bit, and eventually it came to a relative stop. I was holding my oar and the rope with the same hand, so I tried to get my other hand on the oar so I could let go. That was when I realized that my arm was pinning Liz to the boat by her neck.
"Letgoletgoletgo!!"
I managed to get free so that she could breathe, and two kayakers picked us up, along with Robert, who was in the same general area. We eventually made it back to the boat--all of us were scattered across the flat pool immediately following the rapid. Alex gave us fresh pineapple (chopped right on the boat and very ripe) and Billy managed to skip a few of the peels on the water between rapids.
Before the last rapid, we were on a stretch of flat water and Alex started pushing us all into the water, so I just jumped in. Kirk and I floated in the Nile for a good 20 minutes (staying in the current so we didn't get left behind) while Mikey and Billy did flips off of the bow. That was a fun interlude. Also, I probably have worms from swimming in the Nile, but whatever, there are pills for that.
Fast forward to the last rapid. It's called the Nile Special, and has one big wave called the Club Wave. Alex steered us into the most intense part of it, and promptly jumped ship so that we would be left on our own. A few seconds after we got into the waves, I see Kirk go flying out of the boat (he's about six feet tall, so it was weird to see him just get chucked into the water). Liz was was also thrown out, but I didn't know that until later. Billy then realized that Alex was gone, so he started screaming, "PADDLE PADDLE PADDLE!" in a rather hysteric fashion. I got up to paddle better but a strong wave threw the boat down and threw me into the bottom of the boat. I looked up to see Mikey at the bow, which was mostly submerged, clinging to the safety rope for dear life and gaping back at the rest of us who had managed to stay on board. Suddenly we were out of the waves and I somehow had Billy's legs on either side of me--I'm guessing he got thrown to the bottom too. We kind of looked around for a minute.
"Holy shit! We're alive!"
We picked up Alex, Liz, and Kirk ("How the hell did you guys manage to stay in the boat?") and then got off at another point on the bank, where BBQ and beer were waiting. The guys went straight for the beer; Liz and I went straight for the changing room (none of them had brought dry clothes or sunscreen, for that matter). We ended up going back to Backpackers and regaling (regaling? regaleing?) the other interns with our harrowing tale.
So now I am back in Kakira, and we'll have work tomorrow--we will finalize our project proposal and draw up a work plan so we can start implementation. But hey, I survived the Nile, so hopefully I can implement a successful project, right?
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Kakira: "They're crunchy tanks!" (Becky talking about cockroaches)
Yeah, so you thought yesterday was bad.
Today we headed out to Kagoma Gate, which is still under the jurisdiction of Kakira Town Council, so although it's a bit of a ways from where we live, it's still a part of the community we serve. When we got there, I'm pretty sure we all thought: "We were NOT prepared for this."
The place was made up of mud and grass thatch huts. Children look at you blankly, stomachs bloated due to hunger. Think of a World Vision commercial. It's a town of 600 people who don't even have a latrine. The nearest school is four kilometers away. Half the people we met in town were drunk on the local brew--it's kind of like moonshine, very strong and very addictive. For some reason, when we were meeting with the village leaders, drunk guys kept sitting next to me (and trying to touch me, alack). I was sitting next to Billy, and I was practically on top of him while trying to get away from them. Men are so annoying...I am not interested, thanks, and would you please stop staring? There were some teenage boys in the street today who thought they were cool and were checking me out, and as soon as I passed them they turned and kept looking at me. I was like, "F*ck you. Get a life."
Sorry. Rant over. Men suck. Yeah feminism. OK.
Anyway, this village was the poorest of the poor. There were three little girls who were following me around, and they were so sweet. They didn't want money or candy or anything, they just smiled at me and laughed when I made funny faces at them. And I just have to think, "God, when was the last time they ate? Do they get to go to school? Do their parents drink and beat them?" Despair is wasted potential.
After work was done for the day, my group and I sat down together and talked through everything--the issues that we have seen, how they match up with St. Eliza's priorities and our own capabilities, and what we each thought was most important. We've come down to two things: Hunger in schools (the government requires all children to attend primary school, but does not pay for lunches in schools, leaving the burden on the parents, who often cannot or will not pay for their children's lunches. This results in children going all day without food, which they may not even get at home, so many skip school due to hunger. Those who stay often perform poorly) and economic development, because it links to so many things. When a person is gainfully employed, they are not only able to afford more things but stay away from delinquency and alcoholism, which leads to less domestic abuse and theft. That's just a couple of the ways that we were able to pinpoint economic development's branching effect. Not that money is a panacea, but hopefully we are able to create something that is successful in getting the money and other gains into the hands of those who need it most. We are currently working on more specific proposals that specifically cater to Kagoma Gate.
The day ended on a positive note, in closing. We feel like we have more direction now and that we agree on basic aims. After meeting post-work, all four of us went to Billy and Robert's host family's shop; it is the biggest shop in Kakira's market. They sell secondhand clothing, bags, and have a separate shop for shoes. The mother of the family, Medina, always hugs Becky and me when she sees us, simply on the grounds that we are friends of Robert and Billy. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Mama Fina keeps checking on me because I was sick yesterday. She was worried because she didn't think that I was eating enough last night, but I didn't really want to vomit again (something at lunch didn't agree with me). I'm better today, but she keeps asking, which is sweet. I told her I would eat a lot at dinner, which made her happy.
That's all for now, folks. Thanks for all the supportive comments on the last post, they cheered me up.
Today we headed out to Kagoma Gate, which is still under the jurisdiction of Kakira Town Council, so although it's a bit of a ways from where we live, it's still a part of the community we serve. When we got there, I'm pretty sure we all thought: "We were NOT prepared for this."
The place was made up of mud and grass thatch huts. Children look at you blankly, stomachs bloated due to hunger. Think of a World Vision commercial. It's a town of 600 people who don't even have a latrine. The nearest school is four kilometers away. Half the people we met in town were drunk on the local brew--it's kind of like moonshine, very strong and very addictive. For some reason, when we were meeting with the village leaders, drunk guys kept sitting next to me (and trying to touch me, alack). I was sitting next to Billy, and I was practically on top of him while trying to get away from them. Men are so annoying...I am not interested, thanks, and would you please stop staring? There were some teenage boys in the street today who thought they were cool and were checking me out, and as soon as I passed them they turned and kept looking at me. I was like, "F*ck you. Get a life."
Sorry. Rant over. Men suck. Yeah feminism. OK.
Anyway, this village was the poorest of the poor. There were three little girls who were following me around, and they were so sweet. They didn't want money or candy or anything, they just smiled at me and laughed when I made funny faces at them. And I just have to think, "God, when was the last time they ate? Do they get to go to school? Do their parents drink and beat them?" Despair is wasted potential.
After work was done for the day, my group and I sat down together and talked through everything--the issues that we have seen, how they match up with St. Eliza's priorities and our own capabilities, and what we each thought was most important. We've come down to two things: Hunger in schools (the government requires all children to attend primary school, but does not pay for lunches in schools, leaving the burden on the parents, who often cannot or will not pay for their children's lunches. This results in children going all day without food, which they may not even get at home, so many skip school due to hunger. Those who stay often perform poorly) and economic development, because it links to so many things. When a person is gainfully employed, they are not only able to afford more things but stay away from delinquency and alcoholism, which leads to less domestic abuse and theft. That's just a couple of the ways that we were able to pinpoint economic development's branching effect. Not that money is a panacea, but hopefully we are able to create something that is successful in getting the money and other gains into the hands of those who need it most. We are currently working on more specific proposals that specifically cater to Kagoma Gate.
The day ended on a positive note, in closing. We feel like we have more direction now and that we agree on basic aims. After meeting post-work, all four of us went to Billy and Robert's host family's shop; it is the biggest shop in Kakira's market. They sell secondhand clothing, bags, and have a separate shop for shoes. The mother of the family, Medina, always hugs Becky and me when she sees us, simply on the grounds that we are friends of Robert and Billy. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Mama Fina keeps checking on me because I was sick yesterday. She was worried because she didn't think that I was eating enough last night, but I didn't really want to vomit again (something at lunch didn't agree with me). I'm better today, but she keeps asking, which is sweet. I told her I would eat a lot at dinner, which made her happy.
That's all for now, folks. Thanks for all the supportive comments on the last post, they cheered me up.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Kakira: "This is my country. I will not run away from it."
Lest you think that this blog is devoted to me bitching about the perils of living in a developing country/having culture shock, I wanted to take a moment to talk about the good things here.
People are really open. I started getting hugs from women who had met me or my friends once or twice on my second day of work. Mama Fina introduces me to people as her daughter, and treats me more or less as one. People are also really cheerful and always joking and smiling together. I appreciate the way everybody is considered close family or friends.
The country itself is also really beautiful. It's a lot of rolling green hills and red soil. It's amazing how much stuff just grows all around.
The past two days have been devoted to going around to schools and seeing what the problems are. We also saw someone from the town council. We were talking to some school kids yesterday--14 and 15 year olds--and we let them ask us questions after we had asked them some things. One girl asked if we lived with our real parents, and we told her that yes we did, when we weren't at school. She told us about her mother had died 3 years ago and she was left with some guardians (her father is in Kampala and isn't really involved with her). And she asked me, "Do you forgive your mother for leaving?" (Note: my mother hasn't left me or anything, that's just the way she phrased it considering her grasp on English). I said, "No, I don't think you have to."
When we asked them what made them happy, they said, "Eating daily!" When asked what made them sad, they said "Being beaten and being hungry."
Where do you start when a child hasn't eaten in three days? When they get beaten at school and home as a matter of course? When they are told to keep their problems to themselves, and not share them with anyone?
It breaks my heart.
People are really open. I started getting hugs from women who had met me or my friends once or twice on my second day of work. Mama Fina introduces me to people as her daughter, and treats me more or less as one. People are also really cheerful and always joking and smiling together. I appreciate the way everybody is considered close family or friends.
The country itself is also really beautiful. It's a lot of rolling green hills and red soil. It's amazing how much stuff just grows all around.
The past two days have been devoted to going around to schools and seeing what the problems are. We also saw someone from the town council. We were talking to some school kids yesterday--14 and 15 year olds--and we let them ask us questions after we had asked them some things. One girl asked if we lived with our real parents, and we told her that yes we did, when we weren't at school. She told us about her mother had died 3 years ago and she was left with some guardians (her father is in Kampala and isn't really involved with her). And she asked me, "Do you forgive your mother for leaving?" (Note: my mother hasn't left me or anything, that's just the way she phrased it considering her grasp on English). I said, "No, I don't think you have to."
When we asked them what made them happy, they said, "Eating daily!" When asked what made them sad, they said "Being beaten and being hungry."
Where do you start when a child hasn't eaten in three days? When they get beaten at school and home as a matter of course? When they are told to keep their problems to themselves, and not share them with anyone?
It breaks my heart.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Kakira: It never rains in Eastern Uganda...oh wait, it totally does
You know what I miss about the U.S.? Anonymity. For someone who grew up in an individualistic society and was able to blend in anywhere, it is very unsettling to constantly stand out. It's not just staring, it's just knowing you can go somewhere and everybody doesn't know who you are or where you're from. Kakira is kind of creepy because EVERYONE in the village knows that mzungus are here and that they're living with Mama Fina. But people are nice. I just miss being able to blend in or fade into the crowd, which sounds really conformist, but it's true.
Oh, the power just went off. Better get my headlamp. Shit, Becky's taking her bath...better go get her some light.
Okay. Got her lantern and headlamp. Problem handled.
Anyway, went into Jinja again today for another intern's birthday. It was nice to see all of the other interns again; I think this weekend we're going to go rafting or hiking, which will be fun.
I'm going to stop writing before my computer's power runs out. Hope the power's back on when I go to work tomorrow.
Oh, the power just went off. Better get my headlamp. Shit, Becky's taking her bath...better go get her some light.
Okay. Got her lantern and headlamp. Problem handled.
Anyway, went into Jinja again today for another intern's birthday. It was nice to see all of the other interns again; I think this weekend we're going to go rafting or hiking, which will be fun.
I'm going to stop writing before my computer's power runs out. Hope the power's back on when I go to work tomorrow.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Kakira: "Even married people don't spend this much time together."
Hey, I'm back...on the Internet. Becky and I went into Jinja today to get a modem, since I don't have Internet here in Kakira, where I am now living. It is a small village about a half an hour away from Jinja. You take a bodaboda to the main road and then a taxi (here, taxis are basically white vans where they squeeze 20 people into a vehicle built for 7 passengers) if you want to go to Jinja. It takes about half an hour in total.
In Kakira, I am living with Mama Fina, mother of ten and generally awesome lady. She orders Becky and me around, and basically we go with it, since Fina is an unstoppable force of nature. We also live with Fina's oldest daughter Annett, her son William, their cook Farima, Fina's relative James (who is 15), 6 cows, and a few chickens on occasion. Becky and I have our own room with two mosquito-netted beds. We have electricity most of the time, when rain doesn't knock it out, but no running water, though we do have a working toilet. You have to refill the water tank from a jerry can every time you use it (here's a picture of a jerry can: http://www.charitywater.org/events/guide/downloads/assets/jerry_can.jpg). No running water means bucket baths, which basically means standing in the bathtub with a plastic basin and a large cup. You pour hot water in the basin and then take cold, relatively clean (not drinkable clean) water and mix it in until the water is the right temperature. Then you take the cup and pour water on yourself and bathe. Pretty much. I have mostly mastered this; last night I did it by the light of a headlamp and small LED lantern because the electricity was out. Which I personally think is pretty impressive.
We have started at St. Eliza's, which is a clinic, training school for nurses, and general community development organization. Today we met with some people who are participants in an economic program that allows them to get small loans to start small businesses (i.e. a microfinance program) that was introduced by the last intern. They are mostly HIV positive and on retroviral drugs, and all are having trouble making ends meet. By "making ends meet" I mean providing the basic necessities and education for the children that they support. Most support at least 5--some are their own, some are orphans they have taken in. Anyway, their stories are heartbreaking. I wish that I was capable of getting rid of their problems, but I can only do what I can do. And what I can't do is cure HIV, give the orphans back their parents, increase the income of all people in Uganda, and send children to school. Hopefully my team and I can leave something behind that improves their quality of life "a little little", as Fina would say.
Meanwhile, Becky and I not only live together but work together, so we are together always. And I love Becky, but, as Billy said in the quote that titles this blog, "Even married people don't spend this much time together." He is living and working with Robert, so they are in the same situation. Here's hoping that we don't hate each other by the end of this. We'll know each other better than anyone else, so it could go either way.
Thanks for all the supportive comments and for reading this!
In Kakira, I am living with Mama Fina, mother of ten and generally awesome lady. She orders Becky and me around, and basically we go with it, since Fina is an unstoppable force of nature. We also live with Fina's oldest daughter Annett, her son William, their cook Farima, Fina's relative James (who is 15), 6 cows, and a few chickens on occasion. Becky and I have our own room with two mosquito-netted beds. We have electricity most of the time, when rain doesn't knock it out, but no running water, though we do have a working toilet. You have to refill the water tank from a jerry can every time you use it (here's a picture of a jerry can: http://www.charitywater.org/events/guide/downloads/assets/jerry_can.jpg). No running water means bucket baths, which basically means standing in the bathtub with a plastic basin and a large cup. You pour hot water in the basin and then take cold, relatively clean (not drinkable clean) water and mix it in until the water is the right temperature. Then you take the cup and pour water on yourself and bathe. Pretty much. I have mostly mastered this; last night I did it by the light of a headlamp and small LED lantern because the electricity was out. Which I personally think is pretty impressive.
We have started at St. Eliza's, which is a clinic, training school for nurses, and general community development organization. Today we met with some people who are participants in an economic program that allows them to get small loans to start small businesses (i.e. a microfinance program) that was introduced by the last intern. They are mostly HIV positive and on retroviral drugs, and all are having trouble making ends meet. By "making ends meet" I mean providing the basic necessities and education for the children that they support. Most support at least 5--some are their own, some are orphans they have taken in. Anyway, their stories are heartbreaking. I wish that I was capable of getting rid of their problems, but I can only do what I can do. And what I can't do is cure HIV, give the orphans back their parents, increase the income of all people in Uganda, and send children to school. Hopefully my team and I can leave something behind that improves their quality of life "a little little", as Fina would say.
Meanwhile, Becky and I not only live together but work together, so we are together always. And I love Becky, but, as Billy said in the quote that titles this blog, "Even married people don't spend this much time together." He is living and working with Robert, so they are in the same situation. Here's hoping that we don't hate each other by the end of this. We'll know each other better than anyone else, so it could go either way.
Thanks for all the supportive comments and for reading this!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Jinja: "You will get rabies, and you will die. Welcome to Africa."
Another long day of orientation. We had language training, a community development workshop, walked around Jinja, and met members of our host families. I exchanged 150 USD for 345,000 Ugandan shillings, which is crazy. The exchange rate is something like 2500 UG shillings to $1. So most of the prices here are at least 1,000. It's weird to see such big numbers on price boards. Like, you would pay 5,000 or 6,000 shillings for a normal-sized lunch.
That reminds me, getting money exchanged in Jinja gave rise to another issue: One thing that bothers me about being here is that people constantly stare at you like you're some kind of exotic fish in a bowl. It's like, yes, I am white and clearly a foreigner. Get over it. It's getting really old really quickly.
We also had a meeting with Dr. Debbie, an Australian doctor who has lived here for 7 years, today about health stuff in Africa. She was running through the malaria thing (we've got this), then the diarrhea/gastro stuff (it's covered), mango worms (disgusting and actually a problem), unprotected sex and the consequences, bilharzia (you can pick it up if you swim in the Nile), and rabies. A lot of the other students apparently didn't know that it was lethal, but she explained it to everybody. "How high is the mortality rate for people who get infected and haven't had the vaccine?" "100 percent. Seriously, it's a fatal disease. There is no cure." So now we're all signed up for rabies vaccines.
My team and I (Becky, Robert, and Billy) brainstormed issues to work on once we get to St. Eliza's, but it's pretty much BS since we have to get there and check out the situation before we can think about the issues to address. But it's a starting point. It's going to be really hard to come up with a project, but that's why we're here. So we'll figure it out, haul ass, and pull off a legitimate community development project.
That reminds me, getting money exchanged in Jinja gave rise to another issue: One thing that bothers me about being here is that people constantly stare at you like you're some kind of exotic fish in a bowl. It's like, yes, I am white and clearly a foreigner. Get over it. It's getting really old really quickly.
We also had a meeting with Dr. Debbie, an Australian doctor who has lived here for 7 years, today about health stuff in Africa. She was running through the malaria thing (we've got this), then the diarrhea/gastro stuff (it's covered), mango worms (disgusting and actually a problem), unprotected sex and the consequences, bilharzia (you can pick it up if you swim in the Nile), and rabies. A lot of the other students apparently didn't know that it was lethal, but she explained it to everybody. "How high is the mortality rate for people who get infected and haven't had the vaccine?" "100 percent. Seriously, it's a fatal disease. There is no cure." So now we're all signed up for rabies vaccines.
My team and I (Becky, Robert, and Billy) brainstormed issues to work on once we get to St. Eliza's, but it's pretty much BS since we have to get there and check out the situation before we can think about the issues to address. But it's a starting point. It's going to be really hard to come up with a project, but that's why we're here. So we'll figure it out, haul ass, and pull off a legitimate community development project.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Jinja: "Guys, we're drinking tea and having bread and jam on the Nile. Now we just need to make a colony."
First day in Uganda! We had an orientation for safety and security and culture shock and had lunch at a local restuarant, where I had matooke and goat meat. The goat meat was in this awesome broth; matooke is mashed plaintains, and apparently a Ugandan staple. It basically tastes like unsalted, unbuttered potatoes. Very bland, but very thick and heavy. It isn't bad, though. I stared at it for a minute before I ate it, because I was scared of it, since it just looks like a giant yellow mush with black seeds in it. Also, I hate bananas, so I was scared that would transfer over, since plaintains and bananas are sort of related. Anyway, I'm glad I like it, since I'll probably eat that 80% of the time I live with my host family.
Then we had language lessons--I will actually be speaking Luganda and not Lusoga, the language I originally thought I was speaking. The two are similar, but still different languages. Then we got our phones and had dinner at a different local place. In Uganda, there are a lot of different local languages. It's about the size of Oregon, but you can go to one part of the country and they will not understand the language from another region. So communication can be pretty difficult. In the capital, Kampala, Luganda is the main language (though Uganda has no official language). Lusoga is spoken in the Basoga region east of Kampala, which is in central Uganda. I'll be halfway between Jinja, which is southeast of Kampala, and Mayuge, the rural area where some of my colleagues are going. Anyway, I'm speaking Luganda. Sorry to digress. (If anyone wants to know anything more about Ugandan history, tell me in a comment and I will say more in my next post!)
I also rode my first boda-boda today. Boda-bodas are bicycles and motorbikes that you can flag down to get around. They told us in our pre-departure stuff never to ride on a motorcycle boda-boda, but we walked out of our safety orientation this morning and took them to lunch. We were a caravan of mzungus, or foreigners/white people (the term can mean either). The good thing about the fact that the 14 of us who came here together (we're all working at different places--the people I mentioned in my first post are living/working with me) is that we will be less of a spectacle in small groups. 14 white kids is a strange sight in Uganda.
Anyway, a boda-boda is everything your mother was ever worried about--getting on a rickety motorbike with a strange man who probably doesn't have a license and driving into Ugandan traffic, where there are basically no road rules and lots of potholes. (To my mother: Don't worry about me, I walk to work every day, so I won't need bodas that often.) It was actually not that scary, but when they start to go fast on the dirt roads it can get pretty bumpy--hitting a pothole could flip you off if you are going fast enough.
But that was mostly my day. And, as my title suggests, I did in fact sit on the Nile River and drink tea this morning with two of my compadres, which was really cool. The Nile is beautiful and majestic and all that jazz. I really want to go sail on Lake Victoria before I leave.
So I have another day of orientation tomorrow and then on Thursday I go to live with my host family, who I'm really excited to meet. Then work begins at St. Eliza's.
Then we had language lessons--I will actually be speaking Luganda and not Lusoga, the language I originally thought I was speaking. The two are similar, but still different languages. Then we got our phones and had dinner at a different local place. In Uganda, there are a lot of different local languages. It's about the size of Oregon, but you can go to one part of the country and they will not understand the language from another region. So communication can be pretty difficult. In the capital, Kampala, Luganda is the main language (though Uganda has no official language). Lusoga is spoken in the Basoga region east of Kampala, which is in central Uganda. I'll be halfway between Jinja, which is southeast of Kampala, and Mayuge, the rural area where some of my colleagues are going. Anyway, I'm speaking Luganda. Sorry to digress. (If anyone wants to know anything more about Ugandan history, tell me in a comment and I will say more in my next post!)
I also rode my first boda-boda today. Boda-bodas are bicycles and motorbikes that you can flag down to get around. They told us in our pre-departure stuff never to ride on a motorcycle boda-boda, but we walked out of our safety orientation this morning and took them to lunch. We were a caravan of mzungus, or foreigners/white people (the term can mean either). The good thing about the fact that the 14 of us who came here together (we're all working at different places--the people I mentioned in my first post are living/working with me) is that we will be less of a spectacle in small groups. 14 white kids is a strange sight in Uganda.
Anyway, a boda-boda is everything your mother was ever worried about--getting on a rickety motorbike with a strange man who probably doesn't have a license and driving into Ugandan traffic, where there are basically no road rules and lots of potholes. (To my mother: Don't worry about me, I walk to work every day, so I won't need bodas that often.) It was actually not that scary, but when they start to go fast on the dirt roads it can get pretty bumpy--hitting a pothole could flip you off if you are going fast enough.
But that was mostly my day. And, as my title suggests, I did in fact sit on the Nile River and drink tea this morning with two of my compadres, which was really cool. The Nile is beautiful and majestic and all that jazz. I really want to go sail on Lake Victoria before I leave.
So I have another day of orientation tomorrow and then on Thursday I go to live with my host family, who I'm really excited to meet. Then work begins at St. Eliza's.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Jinja: "The floor keeps moving. That's probably a bad sign... that I'M ON A BOAT!"
I haven't slept in 72 hours, because I flew from Amsterdam to Dubai to Entebbe (two different airlines) in the last three day. I'm finally in Jinja, Uganda, which is good news. The bad news is that my bag is not with me in Jinja, because the damn airlines lost it. (I ended up flying KLM and Emirates airlines). I do not wish this long of a trip on anyone when you can't sleep in a bed or shower during the entirety of it, which was my life for the past three/four days. The floor keeps feeling wobbly to me because I'm so tired and my body doesn't have any sense of time at this point.
But I'm here, and my orientation for my internship at St. Eliza's under the Foundation for Sustainable Development starts tomorrow morning. I do that for two days and then I go live in my homestay starting Thursday. I'm hoping that this country will be less scary to me as an outsider once I've been here for a week or two. In any case, we need to start figuring out what our organization needs and what it already has so we can get this party started.
I've already done some successful greetings since I've been here. "Okoba kyi" is the easiest, since all you have to respond with is "Wazira", then they say "Gyebale" and you finish it with "Kale, wena gyebale". So there's progress there. Hopefully tomorrow I will get more practice, but now it's bedtime. Good night everybody!
But I'm here, and my orientation for my internship at St. Eliza's under the Foundation for Sustainable Development starts tomorrow morning. I do that for two days and then I go live in my homestay starting Thursday. I'm hoping that this country will be less scary to me as an outsider once I've been here for a week or two. In any case, we need to start figuring out what our organization needs and what it already has so we can get this party started.
I've already done some successful greetings since I've been here. "Okoba kyi" is the easiest, since all you have to respond with is "Wazira", then they say "Gyebale" and you finish it with "Kale, wena gyebale". So there's progress there. Hopefully tomorrow I will get more practice, but now it's bedtime. Good night everybody!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Saga Continues: "We should stay positive and not complain." "Shut up, Robert."
So we're trapped in Amsterdam. First, we got off the plane and we had to wait to park because KLM crashed two of their planes into each other on the tarmac. KLM did manage to find my friend's passport after he lost it in O'Hare yesterday, but that does not make up for the general fail. We ran to the terminal to transfer to our flight to Entebbe, but then they were like, "There aren't enough seats for you! KTHXBYE!" So now we're trying to figure out when and from where we're getting to Uganda. It's 3 am in the States, so it's unlikely that we'll get a hold of the people that do our program until a long time from now.
I watched Black Swan on the plane, so that was interesting. I don't know how I feel about that movie...anyway. We need to get there so we can start working with our NGOs and start working on our projects! Also, we're all tired and irritated at this point, obviously.
Hey, there's a plane outside the window named the Marie Curie. Cute. Anyway, there will be another update someday. Maybe, since I don't have a converter, so my computer will run out of power eventually.
I watched Black Swan on the plane, so that was interesting. I don't know how I feel about that movie...anyway. We need to get there so we can start working with our NGOs and start working on our projects! Also, we're all tired and irritated at this point, obviously.
Hey, there's a plane outside the window named the Marie Curie. Cute. Anyway, there will be another update someday. Maybe, since I don't have a converter, so my computer will run out of power eventually.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Still Predeparture: Good job breaking your own plane, KLM.
I was on the plane to go to Amsterdam so that I could then go to Entebbe, Uganda. But then the employees of KLM airlines broke the rear cargo door of the plane, so we couldn't fly it and the flight was delayed for 24 hours. I am currently stealing internet from the Hilton O'Hare where we (the other bros going to Uganda with me) are trying to get rooms with vouchers from the airport. I don't currently have a place to sleep, but at least we got meal vouchers, so I can get free food for the next day. I'm supposed to be leaving tomorrow at 6:00 pm for Amsterdam, where I may have a significant layover. So I have no idea when I'm getting to Entebbe.
Oh great..no one is at the ticket counter in the airport. "Oh, let's go home, it doesn't matter that these college kids have no place to sleep." FUCK!
Oh great..no one is at the ticket counter in the airport. "Oh, let's go home, it doesn't matter that these college kids have no place to sleep." FUCK!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Predeparture: "There are more important things to talk about. Like dysentery."
Mwasuze mutya, banyabo and bassebo. In about 36 hours, I will be on a plane to Amsterdam. I will then hop on another plane that will take me to Kigali, Rwanda, and another that will take me to Entebbe, Uganda. Then I'm going to get in a car and drive until I reach Kakira, Uganda, in Jinja District. Then I will stop listing destinations and start busting a move.
I'm Lynne Fort, Northwestern junior, journalism student, Latin scholar extraordinaire, and victim of chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome. Uganda is my destination for the summer--I'll be working 40 hours a week at St. Eliza's, an HIV/AIDS clinic and community development organization in Kakira, Uganda. By the end of my time there, my fellow interns and I will be responsible for conceiving and implementing a capacity-building project to help the community develop. We will have help from the Foundation for Sustainable Development in this process. For anyone interested in the details, we will be using the Asset-Based Community Development approach (ABCD). What does that mean? In a nutshell, starting with what the community already has and using that to fill the gaps, rather than starting with the community's problems and trying to fix them for said community.
We have no idea what the hell we're doing.
Not that we're not exicited to go into Uganda and live with Ugandan families, try new foods, see beautiful landscapes, and improve our Lugosa. But when we hit the ground and try to map this community, we'll be learning as we go. We've learned how to make decisions, to draw up internal and external project plans, but no one can teach you to live and work in a completely different culture. So we'll be flying by the seat of our collective pants, and if you follow this blog, you can see us develop as we try to help the community develop. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll wonder why the hell anybody thought this was a good idea.
As Robert, Becky, Billy and I make our way into Kakira, I hope that you will hang in with us, comment on our exploits as they're posted, or at least get a good chuckle out of us. I will have limited Internet access, but I'm hoping to post a blog at least once a week (that would make 8 blogs).
If you'll excuse me, I need to go get my learn on. Siiba bulungi!
I'm Lynne Fort, Northwestern junior, journalism student, Latin scholar extraordinaire, and victim of chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome. Uganda is my destination for the summer--I'll be working 40 hours a week at St. Eliza's, an HIV/AIDS clinic and community development organization in Kakira, Uganda. By the end of my time there, my fellow interns and I will be responsible for conceiving and implementing a capacity-building project to help the community develop. We will have help from the Foundation for Sustainable Development in this process. For anyone interested in the details, we will be using the Asset-Based Community Development approach (ABCD). What does that mean? In a nutshell, starting with what the community already has and using that to fill the gaps, rather than starting with the community's problems and trying to fix them for said community.
We have no idea what the hell we're doing.
Not that we're not exicited to go into Uganda and live with Ugandan families, try new foods, see beautiful landscapes, and improve our Lugosa. But when we hit the ground and try to map this community, we'll be learning as we go. We've learned how to make decisions, to draw up internal and external project plans, but no one can teach you to live and work in a completely different culture. So we'll be flying by the seat of our collective pants, and if you follow this blog, you can see us develop as we try to help the community develop. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll wonder why the hell anybody thought this was a good idea.
As Robert, Becky, Billy and I make our way into Kakira, I hope that you will hang in with us, comment on our exploits as they're posted, or at least get a good chuckle out of us. I will have limited Internet access, but I'm hoping to post a blog at least once a week (that would make 8 blogs).
If you'll excuse me, I need to go get my learn on. Siiba bulungi!
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