Experiencing the epitome of the unknown….venturing to Africa…
And here, I finally deprive myself of any familiar comfort. I leave my music behind, my mountains behind, my solitude and my relationships. I cut myself off from my familiar world and vulnerably venture into a new one. An unfamiliar culture. Spirituality that makes no sense in my idea of reality. My writing is no longer concrete. I am stripped away from all the I know, and my ideologies are compromised.
This is Africa.
June 8
Today, we arrived at Entebbe National Airport at 9:30. We retrieved all of our personal belongings as well as our donation tubs. All except two tubs arrived which caused us to wait for two hours in order to record the lost luggage. Immediately after this, the fifteen of us were greeted by the staff of, “Come, Let’s Dance” and we all piled into a seven person van. Upon arriving to our village, Nansana which is a few miles outside of Kampala, we settled into our small little house and hung up our mosquito nets.
At around 6:00 PM, we visited the orphanage run by, “Come, Let’s Dance” and became acquainted with the children. We returned back to the house in time for dinner. We ate lamb, with mashed potatoes, smashed bananas (or matoke) and rice. It was extremely good in comparison with the airplane food we had been consuming the past two days.
From the moment I could see Lake Victoria through the airplane window, I knew Africa would possess an opposite culture to The United States. As Ryan and I waited for the lost luggage, I noticed the Ugandan assisting us worked on his own time. Customer service was not vital and if more important things came up (such as having a chat with his friend on the phone), he would immediately put us on “hold” so to speak. As we met the “Come, Let’s Dance” staff in the parking lot, Stevie and Melissa began snapping photos. A few police officials saw this and threatened to revoke their passports and arrest them if they refused to hand over the camera. This reinforced my idea that in Africa, there are many corrupt authorities.
As we drove down the bumpy road to Kampala, we were stopped yet again by two officials. They claimed it was illegal to drive with too much luggage and attempted to bribe us.
Thankfully, our driver spoke Lugandan and was able to reason with these police men through a bribe.
These two occurrences have shown me that security comes through individual intelligence rather than law enforcement as presented by police officials.
Positively speaking though, I have come to appreciate the way may Ugandans interact and treat one another. Men walk hand in hand, women embrace even strangers and when Ugandans speak to people, they look them in the eye.
In terms of feelings, I have experienced a variety of extremes in emotion. The dirt roads, banana trees, crazy driving, wildlife, slums and the language have put me in some form of culture shock. We are living with limited electricity and water in a village where we are the only Caucasians. Shain (The “Come, Let’s Dance” founder) informed us that there have been countless robbery attempts on the house which is why we have a guard, Willy whose weapon is a machete
As we drove through the town, Shayne told us that there is a high percentage of individuals who claim to be witch doctors/medicine men. She also informed us that because the police force is so corrupt, they do not do their jobs to protect civilians.
As such, consequences for social offences (such as, car accidents and robberies but not murder and rape) are determined by “the mob”. If the community finds an individual guilty, they will simply burn him/her on the street in front of everyone.
Although I am both excited and grateful for this opportunity, I am anxious and fearful for my life at times.
Specialized Vocabulary:
“Oliotya”- “Hello, how are you” (formal greeting). I am excited to learn more as
“Mob Justice”- Taking the law into the hands of the community
June 9
Today, we woke up around 8:00 AM and took a taxi to the farmland in order to better understand the project. It took us around forty-five minutes to reach the site and we had to drive through what looked like a jungle to get there. Our van got stuck in the mud which delayed us quite a bit. Around 12:00 PM, ( as Ugandans keep no track of time, I’ve realized) we drove into the slums. Here, we visited the store that Shayne had just opened. She explained how to make the jewellery (through rolling and varnishing magazine paper into beads) and told us their vision of teaching women to teach other women to sew and roll beads.
Following that (around 2:00 PM), we went to the hospital to see where help was needed (everywhere). We found out it was the hospital shown in “The Last King of Scotland” (but in much worse shape). At around 3:30 PM, we headed back to the slums and played with the children. I started to teach them a few camp games which I expect to continue daily.
We headed home around 6:00 PM on foot through Wandheya (a smaller version of Kampala) and took a taxi for the next half of the way. The taxi took about thirty minutes as we picked up random people along the way. Ugandan driving seems as though in has no rules. It is crazy with no lights, signs or anything. We ate dinner (rice, beans and fruit) around 9:00 PM.
During our visit to the farmland, Shayne informed us that “Come Let’s Dance” had purchased it while squatters inhabited it.
This caused them to all revolt with machetes. In order to make amends, CLD purchased three acres of land per family. We met one of the families who gave us four papayas they had grown. This allowed me to draw the conclusion that CLD is well respected in the community as they have created a very good and credible reputation for themselves.
During our visit to the hospital, I was able to see the epitome of corruption. There was a gate surrounding it and in order to enter or exit, people have to bribe the guards with anything they had. One of Shayne’s friends, Patrick (the CLD taxi driver) had just got in a car accident and was nearing death. As such, we were eager to see him. It took Jeremy twenty minutes, and finally we were able to lower his bribe price to one thousand shillings. As we entered the hospital, there were people lying all around the corridors. We walked past a man who was on a bench waiting for a doctor as many were. He was shaking and there was blood all over his feet, sores going up his arms, burn marks and rope burns around his neck. He seemed to be somewhere around twenty years old.
As Ryan and Jeremy team attempted to find him a bed, I found out the reason why there was no doctors was because it was a holiday. Since when is it okay to take a holiday from dying, needy people?
Shayne told me that some of the luckiest people were found in hospitals because they possessed the chance to see a doctor at some point. She also told me some people are stuck in the hospitals for months and sometimes years if they cannot afford to pay their medical bills. Many times, they die without people able to contact any family members. Hearing about all of this really makes me want to switch my major to medicine.
After the hospitals, as we were about to walk through Wandheya, we walked through some slums. We played with the children some more and noticed how unsanitary everything was. The children had no shoes, and there was human waste everywhere. One of our translators/ leaders, James told us that they simply throw their waste in the night and then use the rain water (which sits in waste) to bathe in.
On our walk, we were shouted at many times by Ugandans calling us, “Mzungu” which means, “white man”. By this point, I have realized they either see us as intruders or ATM machines.
This afternoon, I had a meltdown. The amount of injustice in this place only becomes a reality when it happens right in front of you. The patients in the hospital looked so sad and hopeless. There were no nurses, no doctors, no one to tend to their wounds and pain. They simply lay in their cots if they were lucky enough to have one. On our search for Patrick, three girls, all missing one eye approached me to grab my hand. Although puss was coming out of one of the girls’ eyes, I embraced them none the less. A man approached our group and asked if anyone spoke French. Ironically, I was the only one who spoke it. I followed him into the patient room where he informed me the three girls were his daughters. They were form the Congo and he had to return soon to take care of his other three children. He told me they had cancer and I knew he was ignorant of their illness. He asked me to visit them as he would be unable to take care of them the following day.
I walked away overwhelmed and began to cry. How tragic it was to know that if these girls had so much as one bottle of antibiotics they would still have their eyes.
And where was compassion in these doctors and nurses, where was the world?
“The politics of being white include, bribing your way out of everything”
“Oftentimes, women neglect their babies to the long drop” (Shayne explained this as we passed a small fire truck in front of one of the villages. They told us a mother had put her baby in the long drop-the toilet-because she could no longer take care of it).
This has been one of the most challenging times of my life. It’s hard to continue on laughing and looking at the positive when you have experience death. I cannot get the image of those three Congolese sisters missing an eye out of my head. I feel as though I can make it through situations but I can never forget the hardships. I think it will take some “getting used to” to really utilize myself as a tool for help. I must put my fears and emotions aside in order to be useful.
June 10
Today, I woke up at 4:30 AM to the sound of chanting and drumming. My three “bunk mates” (Emily, Sarah and Stevie) and I could not go to sleep as we thought we heard people in the house. We finally got the courage to lock ourselves in our room and hope the worse would not happen. At 8:00 AM, we headed downstairs and ate breakfast. We finally left the house at 10:00 AM and headed by taxi to the slums of Katunga. We were invited into the huts of four women: Shakira, Mama Zham, Flavia and Jaga. One of them (Flavia) had four children and was left by her husband. She had been hit by a car and had leg problems since. We asked her what we could do to aid her in obtaining a profit. She told us she needed more cooking oil in order to sustain her pancake business. Mamma Zham lost her husband and was left with a new born. She started a laundry business at the hostels nearby but does not have enough for rent.
She told us her biggest problem was leaving her babies behind as witch doctors have been known to come into the slums and kidnap babies in order to use them for human sacrifices. We agreed to watch her baby for the days she needed us. We also found out she has a talent for cooking and told her we could loan her the money to start it off and she could pay it back once the business takes off. Shakira lives in a small shack with mud for the floor. She is twenty three with a one year old and a three year old. The ground is pretty much mud which attracts mosquitoes, giving the youngest child malaria. We decided the best solution to this would be to cement the floor.
I was so excited to start on all of these micro financing projects. We went further into the slums to meet some of the teens. They decided to make us fried grass hoppers which we all ate. Jeremy took a handful of them and ate them all at the same time. It was awesome to partake in food with these people as we began our relationships. I have started a friendship with another girl named Aisha who cooked the grasshoppers.
At two, we headed to the hospital in order to visit the three girls as well as the man with the sores. We could not find the girl, but succeeded in finding the man who was thankfully recovering. His name is Darius. At three, we headed to Kampala by foot and eventually made it to Katana, the slum of the street children. We left there at six and made it home by taxi van at 8:00 AM.
I have perceived so much about Africa today. The hospital gives off a completely different connotation when there are doctors and nurses present. Today, it seemed to be a place of recovery and life rather than death.
While I was in Katanga, I truly appreciated and realized the amount of hospitality Ugandans have. They invited us into their house (despite our muddy feet) and fed us without becoming offended with the disgusted looks on our faces.
While walking through Kampala with four girls and two of our Ugandan friends/leaders (James and James). I realized how crowded and busy that city is. There were venders on the street selling anything from empty coke bottles to grasshoppers to passion fruit.
I was able to be exposed to the crime as I saw men carrying guns and pick pocketers attempting to steal, even from me.
When we finally approached Katanga, after walking through alleyways upon alleyways through gang spots and opium sites, we approached the street kids. There was trash everywhere and feces in every corner. These kids had no hope, no family and we were completely destitute. They all sniffed glue and petroleum and utilized it as an escape from reality.
Today taught me confidence, perseverance and fearlessness. As I ate the grasshopper, I knew I would not eat anything quite as gross hopefully. As I walked through Kampala, I knew I would never be afraid of traffic again as crossing the road offered a 50% chance of life and death. I was no longer paranoid as I stopped expecting the worse and began to expect anything.
The most challenging part of my day was walking through the alleyways on my way to Katana. We were not welcomes and we walked through some of the most dangerous places I had ever been to. There were two year old children sitting in the allies begging for money. There were people just stepping over them. It was such a God-forsaken place as it was so inhumane and I could believe I lived in such an opposite world.
The street kids in the slums escaped from their horrors and hardships through getting high off of petroleum. I looked into their eyes and saw death and hopelessness which brought me to tears. I felt so weak and useless compared to Jeremy and James who were able to listen to their story and keep track of their needs.
The street kids are like the lost boys of Peter Pan in that they are intimidating at first until you learn all they want is to be heard and recognized by a mother/father figure.
Although today was very overwhelming and I could almost not deal with it, I know that on Thursday, I will face it with more strength and preparation and compassion rather than fear.
June 11
I woke up today at 8:00 AM and headed off to the slums at 10:00 AM. Unlike the past two hectic days, we decided to start an English school at the shack church. This went from 10:00 AM to 2:00 PM. At 2:15, we headed to the hospital to find the three girls with missing eyes. I found them although their father (who spoke French and I could communicate with) was missing. I was able to hear their needs-they were waiting for an eye to come but could not afford it.
For the next two hours, we walked the halls of the hospital and found patients that needed help. We finally came home at 6:00 after squishing fifteen people into an eight person van.
I truly believe that this school we have started in the slums will be successful. We had about fifteen kids, all of them so intelligent and eager to learn. We plan to start this school while training a Ugandan woman (empowering her to begin an occupation) so that once we leave, it will be sustainable.
The other projects through the women were planned out today by Jeremy, James, and a friend, Ryan who figured out the finances and supplies. It sounds like it will be a success. I am so glad that this project will not be a “petting zoo” but rather, an opportunity to begin something great through building relationships with these kids.
I loved being with the kids today, I learned their names, held them and became their friend. I want to bring them all juice to hydrate them or food to feed their stomachs but I know if I do this, more will come and I will not be able to feed all. I also know we need to implement something more sustainable than food and perishable things because after all, tomorrow they will be hungry again.
At the hospital, I saw dying infants, mothers crying, burned babies and many HIV positive people. There wasn’t much to be done to alleviate the pain as the hospital could not even afford strong painkillers like, Morphine. When we offer to pay for the medical expenses of these people, the doctors do not understand. They tell us they are near to death and that there is no point.
We visited Darius, the man who had rope burns around his neck. Apparently, although Jeremy had told he doctor he would pay his medical bill, the doctor attempted to convince him not to saying, “he probably wanted to kill himself. Let him die or your money will go to waste. He will only try again”.
Shayne told me she brought in a girl with a broken skull (she was holding it together). When they go to the hospital, the doctor refused to do the work as they did not have enough money to bribe him. Instead of helping, the doctor handed Shayne a needle to stitch up the girl as well as a pair of latex gloves.
The medical situation here is so tragic. The cause of death of most of these people could be easily healed with simple, cheap antibiotics. I have come to realize what a distribution problem America has. Why is this happening?
I am so frustrated at how inhumane this world is. I refuse to sit still.
Specialized Vocabulary-
“Omuti”- tree
“Nzey”- I am
“Mulweni”- thank you
June 12
Today, we left the house at 10:30 AM. We got to the slums at 11:00 PM and began to teach our class whereas yesterday, the kids called us Mzungus (white wanderer), today they learned our names and called me ‘teacher Aisha’. Between the three of us, we had forty kids. We taught them the ABC’s and reviewed certain terms like, ‘boy’ and ‘girl’. We also taught them to hold a pencil.
At 2:00 PM, we went for lunch at Mulago. I tried one of their national drinks “Miranda” which is a pineapple soda. We returned to teach at 3:00 PM and by four, headed to Kampala, this time by taxi. I got up enough courage to go back to the slum where the street kids reside. There were so many of them this time and I was able to learn their names which took away my fear. They taught us a lot of dances such as, “Calipso”- a Ugandan dance. Many of the kids had wounds and we told them we would bring bandages the following week.
It seems as though many relationships are being built between us and the Ugandans which is very exciting. Ryan and Jeremy have started on the projects for the four women as they have purchased all of the supplies.
I feel very confident about being here now that I feel like my talents are bring utilized. I feel as though educating these slum kids to speak English will help them in the future. Whereas before I was only seeing injustice, now I see room for improvement and positive change.
Life lesson- “Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable”
Specialized Vocabulary:
“Calipso”- A Ugandan Dance
“Linda”-Line-up
“Tula”- sit down
June 13
Today, I woke up at around 4:00 AM to chanting later to find out it was conducted by a witch doctor. Apparently, we are residing in a witchdoctor community (2600 of them) which is a large part of Ugandan culture.
At 10:00 AM, I left with four others to “the kid’s house”- or the orphanage started by “Come, Let’s Dance”. We spent about six hours taking all of the furniture and the children’s beds out of the house as everything was infested by bed bugs. We “doomed” the entire place and scrubbed all of the dirt off of the walls.
We finally finished our work at six and took a taxi back to the house where a black out greeted us.
Today was a day of fear-for my life. As I worked at the kid’s house, I saw a cement shrine with stairs leading up to it in the back yard. I was told the most powerful witch doctor in this region of Uganda used to own the place and sacrifice children. He now lives next door and authorities will not arrest him.
Last night was easily the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. The sounds that were made did not seem human. It sounded like someone was getting strangled and suffocated while the man leading the ceremony sounded like a demon was speaking through him. It sounded like an exorcism. It was crazy
During lunch, I took a leap of faith. We walked down the dirt path to the road where we were planning on getting chapattis (Ugandan pancakes). The man that usually sells to us was gone but a vendor close by told us he would take us to him. We followed him to a dirt path that cut through the bush to a village (of course Josh and Mark leading). We had no idea where he was leading us and suddenly we hit an opening. There was a huge barbeque with about forty children. I walked passed one and she hit me in the leg. We did not seem welcome so we grabbed our food and left.
On our way back from the orphanage, me Katie, Jerry, Emily and Josh (who knows no Lugandan) hopped into the taxi. While bargaining the price, we found it we found it strange that they set the price so low. We drove for a while and suddenly turned off the road to a dirt road. We were followed by two other taxis. We asked them where we were going and they told us it was a short cut. We drove deeper and deeper into the bush until we had no idea where we were. The people we drove by were hostile, waving sticks at us.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes of driving, we were positive something bad was going to happen (especially from the pissed off look on Josh‘s face). Shayne told us to always tell people we knew Wilson Bugembe (a very well respected Ugandan singer/pastor) when our life was threatened. Just as we began dropping his name our taxi driver signalled the other to turn around. Just like that, we drove back the same route we came.
When explaining the story to Shayne later that night, she told us they were planning to do something as a few weeks prior, the same thing had happened to three students. Thankfully, one of the girls had been texting the police and when the girls arrived at an opening, eight people (affiliated with witchcraft) came out of the woods with black masks and knives. At the same moment, the police arrived.
I was pretty shaken up at this event as I felt just as I was getting used to the culture, my comfort was violated.
Specialized Vocabulary:
“Namusura”- night dancer (witch doctor)
June 14
Today, we left the house at 9:00 PM and headed to Mulago (the hospital) and Katanga (the slums). As it was a Saturday, we decided to host an all day soccer game in order to interact with the kids.
At around 2:00 PM, after lunch, we visited the jewellery shop and helped the girls from our team finish painting in order to open the store to classes for the women on Monday.
At around 4:00 PM, we took a taxi to the kid’s house in order to play with them while the house moms rested.
We returned home at around 6:00 PM and watched a documentary on northern Uganda called “An Inconvenient War”.
Today, I was listening to some of the children speak. They told me they believed white people were worth more that them and that they envied us for our skin color. They believe they are cursed as they constantly live in poverty and disease. This was very hard for me to hear. Even the soccer coach of one of the teams who was sitting with us agreed and told his he would only marry a Mzungu as they were more fortunate.
Today was a good day. It was very relaxed and enjoyable as there was room for conversation and building of relationships.
Specialized Vocabulary-
“Cale”- Okay
“Mukayama”- know your boundaries (I used this when the men were continually proposing to us)
June 15
Today is Sunday, our rest day. I got to sleep in until 10:00 AM and go to church with some friends. It was definitely an experience. The service lasted for four hours and meanwhile, there was a service in English which was translated to Lugandan as well as dancing, singing and much more.
I returned home from church where I was surprised by my friend, Sally who was doing medical work near Jinja (east of Kampala). She had come on her own and was staying in a hostel near one of the slums.
After this, I was able to utilize the internet (finally) for five hundred shillings which gave me twenty minutes of internet. I never realized how slow internet could be as half of the time was spent loading a web page.
I was able to come home and finally relax until our “Sunday night pork dinner” which was filled with music and dancing.
Finally at around 8:00 PM, I borrowed my friend’s lap top and watched “The Last King of Scotland”, a film about a Scottish doctor who served as Amin’s personal physician during his regime in the 1970’s. I was so interested in it as the hospital he worked at was the same I have been working in- Mulago.
June 16
Today, I woke up late around 9:00 feeling very sick. I decided to give it a try and go to the jewellery shop to help the women and make tags for the necklaces. At around noon, I began feeling sick and weak. I ended up taking a Boda with a friend to a taxi stop near Makarare University and took a tai home.
I found a mosquito bite on my back and I hope its not malaria.
June 17
Today, I woke up at 9:30 AM. Half of our team was sick with the stomach flu. I left for the slums at around 10:00 AM and brought a kit of art supplies with me (donated by “Art for the Nations”). It was around 2:00 PM that I left the slums to go to the hospital to visit Darius (the boy that Jeremy and Ryan had brought in and had been taking care of).
This day showed me how valuable education is and how unappreciative many American children are of it. Teaching the children how to hold a pencil and how to color brought smiles to their faces. They seemed to feel so privileged to have been given the opportunity to hold a crayon. I observed may of the children sharing their crayons which deterred any fighting among them.
I also observed interactions between Ugandans in Mulago. A few of the patients nears Darius took car of him as well as watched out for each other. This seemed to symbolize community-one that I had not seen in Uganda thus far.
I have gained a positive outlook on Uganda as I was able to see a great amount of hope for the future of Uganda. I saw room for improvement within Uganda and the mindset of its citizens.
Specialized Vocabulary-
“Balance”- a synonym for ‘change’ (in terms of money)
“Empower”- a word that comes up a lot here in Uganda when speaking of ‘empowering the people’
June 18
Today, I headed to the slums at 10:00 AM and met the children at the local church. We helped them color and decorate paper bracelets as well as taught them a few songs in English. Following this at around 12:00, we visited one of the women in the slums (Shakira) and created a business plan for her We decided to loan her 100,000 shillings (around sixty dollars) to buy land and have her pay half of it back by January. The reason we do not want to pay the full amount is to empower her to continue working in order to obtain a sustainable life (financially) without always depending on aid.
At 4:00 PM, (after lunch) we headed down to Casena (to meet up with the street kids or ‘the lost boys’). We played soccer with them and listened to their stories. Meanwhile, I was pick pocketed and lost 15,000 shillings. In order to get to Casena, I took a boda through Kampala. I felt like I was in an action movie. We weaved through traffic going all sort of directions while banging my knees on cars and taxis. When we finally got to the slum of the street kids, I met a boy named Robert. He was thirteen years old, knew English quite well and told me his mother and father died of HIV/AIDS within two years of each other.
Unlike the others, he abstained from inhaling petroleum and from stealing. Recently, he had been recruited by four Englishmen and taken to Kenya for three weeks to perform in an acrobatic performance. When they returned to Uganda, they left him on the same streets they had found him.
I realize how corrupt the streets of Kampala are- how much of an escape drugs are for the street children and how much it prevents them from succeeding. I learned that ninety four percent of Uganda lives off of two dollars our less a day which is far below the poverty line. This prevents them from being capable of obtaining a savings account in order to exceed the poverty line.
June 19
Today, I woke up at 7:30 AM in order to pack to go to a village one hour outside of Nansana named Gangu. Our team piled into a taxi at 10:00 AM with three tubs full of medical supplies and toothbrushes. We arrived in Gangu at 11:30 AM after copious amounts dirt roads. We were greeted by the headmaster of the school and immediately began teaching.
I taught ages 14-17 in a little classroom and answered any questions (ranging from personal to economics) on American society. I taught the children a little French and some of the guys talked about business/engineering.
Following this at around 2:00 PM, we were greeted by all of the villagers and we took the children to a field to play soccer. We bonded with them and at around 7:00 PM, as the sun was going down, we began to set our sleeping bags outside on the dirt. We started a fire and the villagers welcomed us with a dinner that they had saved money to afford. We sat around the fire eating and took shifts keeping the fire up all night in order to protect ourselves from animals or danger. The beautiful thing about our sleeping arrangement was that the children of the village slept right next to us. I went to sleep to the sound of giggling and felt very happy.
I woke up a few times during the night to the sound of dog fights, chanting. I felt very vulnerable at first but unafraid as I knew the villagers would protect us from anything. Overall, it was a real experience camping out in rural Africa.
Today, I felt so welcomed and grateful to be in Africa. Jeremy informed us that these villagers had been neglected and lived in tragedy and unrest. The children in the schools were all orphans taken under the wings of the headmaster and Aunt Edith (James’ aunt). The students rarely saw Mzungus and as such, saw it as a great honor that we would “grace them with our presence”.
Although I was very honoured to find this out, I felt as though I was advocating segregation. It makes me so sad to hear that Ugandans see themselves as less important that whites. The entire day, they were thanking us for coming and they were so giving although they hardly had enough for themselves. As dinner was being served, I went into the hut where the food was being prepared and saw Aunt Edith as well as another young woman preparing dinner on the floor with one candle and a few old pots.
They served us first and hardly left any food for themselves or the children. I felt so unworthy of their great kindness and as I felt guilty for being unable to finish my food, I thought of the quote, ‘there are starving children in Africa’ and then I realized there was one right next to me I could share with.
Gangu has showed me how resourceful Ugandans are. It has also amplified the idea that materialism is a catalyst to depression. Although these people experience daily hardships, they are constantly smiling and trusting that hope will come. I thought of people in The United States and how focused they are on material desires. I rarely see a stranger smile walking down a street or a mother rejoicing in hope when she knows the chances of her child living are slim.
Specialized Vocabulary-
“Nsamba ondange ekubo eryo bulamubwange nsamba ondange ekubo eryo bulamu bwange”
- A song the children of Gangu sang for us. It is a song about hoping in God when all else fails.
June 20
Today, all of us woke up with the sun around 6:00 AM. It was a very long, restless night. We had bread and tea around 8:00 AM and the tea was the best I ever had. At 11:00 AM, we began setting up medical stations near the school. We had a ‘de-worming station’ for children with parasites on their heads and a ‘teeth brushing station’ to teach the children how to floss and utilize a toothbrush. Finally, we had a ‘wound station’ where we disinfected cuts and dressed wounds. I worked at the wound station as well as the tooth station.
Following this, we sat down and the children performed three songs for us. It was adorable. At around 5:00 PM, I spent time with one of the children, Tendo who had cerebral malaria when he was an infant. This caused him to be mentally handicapped and therefore neglected by the village. At around 8:00 PM, we sat around the fire once again and ate dinner. We fell asleep shortly after.
Caring for these children’s medical needs today made me feel extremely useful. Watching the children walk away with tooth brushes to tend to their decaying teeth made me smile. Cleaning out infections and bandaging up wounds caused me to feel as though my presence in Africa was being used for good.
I felt like we left a legacy in Gangu as we took time to build relationships with the children and risked our own health to better theirs. I felt as though we exemplified “good Samaritans” so to speak as we sacrificed our comfort for theirs.
Spending time with Tendo was life changing. It was so heartbreaking to see him tied to a tree all day (to prevent him from running away) as I saw it as something so inhumane. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a different culture.
It was so hard to see him tied in the dark without anyone sitting next to him, looking at him or talking to him. I realized the villagers assumed he was inhumane simply because he failed to speak.
I began sitting with him and drawing him pictures in order to interact wit him. By the end of the night, he had smiled four times laughed twice and whistled. I asked the headmaster if anyone ever hugged him, He informed me he could not recall the last time.
Overall, it was difficult to refrain from thinking, “this would never happen in America”. Although it never would, it was happening here as well as hundreds of other hardships. Just as Tendo was neglected by the village, Uganda ( and sub-Saharan Africa in general) is neglected by the world.
June 21
Today is Sunday, a day of rest here in Uganda. Again, I woke up with the sun in Gangu and packed up my belongings. We ate breakfast (cobalobalas- small banana pancakes) with the villagers and walked four miles to church with them in order to show them our appreciation.
Upon returning home to Nansana, I reflected on the culture of Gangu. I realized how different the traditions are in that they take much offence if visitors do not finish a full plate of food. I was reluctant to do this as I saw many of the children were hungry. I was later informed that feeding us was an honour to them and rejecting a deluge of food is seen as rejecting them as people.
June 22 and June 23
I am feeling sick and too lazy to write
June 24
Today, I woke up at 4:00 AM to follow my impulsive decision to go to Gulu, the far north of Uganda where Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army (a rebel group charged with crimes against humanity).
My friend Josh and I were supposed to meet three of our other friends from CLD at our compound in order to catch a 6:00 AM bus. We waited but no one came. Finally, at 5:15 AM after looking for our guard, Willy to let us out (who was sleeping, of course), our friends arrived and we walked to the main road to catch two taxis to Kampala where the bus station is located.
Our bus was supposed to leave express at 6:00 AM but did not leave until 11:00 AM. We drove past a few villages and then through the bush where we saw no civilization for three hours.
We finally arrived in Gulu at around 4:30 PM where we were greeted by one of my traveling partner’s (Phil) friend, Mike. He was in Gulu with three other guys filming a documentary on all of the families returning to the north since the peace talks have pushed Kony into Sudan.
We went with Mike to Kope Café, a café run by the NGO, H.E.A.L.S. where we met the other three guys (Matt, Nick and Miles). We sat around and spoke about the situation in Gulu. There, we met a girl named Heidi who works for H.E.A.L.S. which supports the education of children who have returned from being abducted and brainwashed by The LRA.
As we were in search of a place to stay that night, she told us that H.E.A.L.S. owns a hostel and that there were places available. Around 9:00 PM, we took bodas and trusted her directions to the hostel which was located in Pece. The hostel looked like it was in the middle of the bush and it was completely unlit besides the light that shone from the stars. When we arrived, we were locked out and Josh had to hop the gate and break in. Overall, the place is decent although there is no guard. We are all sleeping on bunk beds in one room.
The ride up here was both beautiful and nerve racking. We drove through the lush bush, passed over The Nile River and saw a baboon. There were so many parts that were uninhabited and according to what I’ve heard about African transportation, I was afraid of the bus breaking down in a place where there were lions (according to Julius).
Although people have warned me about the lack of safety in Gulu, including telling me to leave my passport in Nansana as it could be taken away, there are so many police and NGOs that it almost seems safer than Kampala. Being this far up north though, far from everything and close to the danger in Sudan does make me nervous.
Here in Gulu, a completely different dialect is spoken. It is rare that people understand Lugandan. It has an eerie feeling to it as it is so quiet and not very populated. Ironically, there are so many westerners here (more than in Kampala) as there are copious amounts of NGO’s. It is evident though, that this town had experienced tragedy and hardships in the past as people here do not smile or communicate as much as in Kampala.
The film guys are very interesting. They shared with us their many stories of traveling through Africa, crossing borders after their passports were evoked, taking eighteen hour crazy bus rides to Kenya and being threatened by the authorities. Despite these dangerous adventures, they seem to be fearless looking for the story in all possible places.
Tomorrow, I plan to visit some NGO’s and speak to them about different micro financing programs they are implementing. Apparently, the biggest office here is, “Invisible Children”.
Today, I tested myself. Although I knew the decision to go to Gulu was risky, I decided to go. I knew it would be such an experience of a lifetime that it would be foolish to pass it up. I had been following up with the situation up north with the LRA for two years now through a non profit I volunteer for in Boulder (Bead for Life). I had always wanted to meet the Acholi people and go to the place where most of the abductions took place. So far, it has been very educational.
In terms of safety, although Kony has signed all of the peace talks, he has failed to sign the last one as it advocates his imprisonment by The International Criminal Court. It would be foolish to reassemble his troops as the amount of UN officials, NGO’s and police who inhabit the city would put an end to it.
June 25
Today, we were awoken to the sound of a woman screaming as if she was being killed. There were men yelling and it was chaotic. We began worrying and then it stopped. It was very strange.
Upon meeting the documentary guys at Kope Café, I found out Phil and Julius (one of the Ugandan guys who came with us) had heard it too. Apparently, she was being continually beat. The guys told us these things happen every morning and much of it is mob justice.
The paper today read that an old man had been dragged away by a mob and forced into circumcision. I also read that Uganda is the 16th most unstable country in the world and the first in Eastern Africa. Apparently, it could be subject to a coup d’etat at any time.
After waiting 3 hours for our food, we ventured into the market. I saw many non-profit NGO trucks such as War Children, Invisible Children, Unicef, The UN and World Vision. It was so strange to see all of these organizations in one small town. After eating lunch at around 3pm we received a call from Julius, one of the Ugandan “Come Let’s Dance” leaders. He had come to Gulu a few days before and told us to meet him at the Displacement camps.
We hopped on Bodas, drove through the bush and arrived at the displacement camps. We left right as the sun began to set and went to sleep at around 9pm when we arrived at the H.E.A.L.S. Hostel.
The displacement camps today changed me. I had gone to “Displace Me” in Colorado where 10,000 college students gathered and made shacks out of boxes in order to represent the situation in Gulu. I had seen pictures of the camps, watched documentaries and heard stories. Going there and seeing it with my own eyes changed me. Although many people had gone home, there were destitute people from different tribes, speaking different dialects. Many had been split apart from their families, and after years of silence decided to stay in these “IDP” camps.
Many of the adults we saw were alcoholics and would sit around for hours. I found out that crime within the camps is extremely prominent with high amounts of rape, murder and robbery. Unlike children in Kampala who strive for attention, these children were wary of strangers a they have been raised to not trust easily as a result of the LKA. The culture here is so bizarre as it is ridden with fear and tragedy. Although there is an illusion of security because of the NGO presence there is a great deal of mob justice and a sense of anarchy. I feel as though I am in a moral dilemma. On our way to the camps I saw a young girl being beaten with an iron rod by a group of young adults. I felt guilty not attempting to defend her. I felt like a criminal by neglecting her. But as the culture takes the law into their own hands as a result of corruption within authority, I knew it was not my place.
As Gulu is so unstable and vulnerable to the rebels, it is hard to decipher what is safe and what is not. As a result, I find myself taking risks that I never would have taken before.
Everyday, my tolerance is built. I become more desensitized, challenged and my fear decreases. Phil told me death is always present and as such, he no longer affiliates it with fear, adrenaline or surprise. I feel as though I have seen Uganda, cried for it, become frustrated with it and realized how much it thirsts for hope and development.
June 26
Today, Julius, Josh and I woke up at 7:00 AM to catch a bus back to Kampala. We walked four miles to town, past huts and small villages. We bought our bus tickets and waited inside the rickety bus. At around 9:00 AM, we left and after six intense hours of dirt roads, pot holes, police stops and markets, we made it home around 4:00 PM. I have never been so excited to see Kampala.
I now understand the concept of “African Transportation”. The bus rarely leaves on time and the entire trip, it seems as though you have a fifty percent chance of life and death. As we drove through the bush, we almost flipped twenty times. Every bump caused us to fly out of our seats.
There were also four chickens accompanying us that would not stop making noise. Because I was unable to sleep, I spoke to Julius about Ugandan economics and development. He told me the only way to develop would be to reject a dependency on foreign aid and empower people within Uganda. I agreed. Julius is such a character. He started a bar when he was nine years old to pay for his school fees. As Josh and I sat on the bus sweating profusely, Julius borrowed our disposable camera to capture the villagers who were attempting to sell us things through the bus window. Instead of taking a picture properly, he put the lense near his eye and accidentally took a picture of his face. It was hilarious.
Each day, I learn to appreciate my life more and more as well as embrace the culture I was raised in while respecting Ugandan culture. I will never forget all that I have seen and learned.
June 27
Today, I woke up at 10:00 PM to get ready to go to Namusera. We spent six hours there entertaining kids and supervising them as they painted on canvasses.
Today was an extremely important day, The paintings the orphans made will be sold at an art show in Steamboat, CO in order to raise money to support the children. As such, we had to make sure the kids painted from their own imagination while encouraging them to use a wide array of colors in order to ensure the paintings will sell.
Last year, over $30,000.00 was raised simply y selling these paintings. We agreed it would be beneficial to write about each child under his/her picture in order to put a face behind the artist.
It was great to see the smiles on the faces of the children as they were given their own canvass, brush, and paint. It is rare that they receive great amounts of attention and an opportunity to color or paint. I am excited for the art show as I know it will get their stories into the open as well as bring in money for their education to increase their quality of life.
June 28
Today is Sunday. Finally a day of rest. We woke up this morning at 5:00 AM to meet the “Nile River Explorers” bus at the top of the hill by 6:00 AM. We were going to Jinja to raft The Nile.
We got there at around 8:00 AM where we were introduced to the Kiwis who owned the company. We ate a good breakfast with Chapattis (crepe like pastries), hardboiled eggs, bananas and bread. At 9:00 AM, we piled onto the back of a truck and drove to The Nile. Seven of us (all from CLD) hopped onto our raft where we met our guide, a strange, funny Ugandan who called himself, ‘Mzungu Alex’.
The entire day was amazing. At every break, we would jump into the river and float down in our life jackets. There would be villagers waving and yelling with excitement at every eddy.
By the end of the day, we had gone through five class five white water rapids, gone over one waterfall, floated over two class two rapids with no raft and flipped twice.
It was exhilarating, terrifying and the best time of my life. Although it was not very safe, it reminded me to live my life on impulse in order to experience every adventure that comes my way.
On our way back to the campsite on the back of a pick up truck, we met a man from Germany who had just gotten back from The Democratic Republic of Congo. He experienced a lot of terrors there and a lot of beauty. It was great to hear his stories.
The day ended with a barbeque at the campsite overlooking The Nile. When I looked over the cliff, I saw monkeys jumping in trees, bats flying and beautiful banana trees. Our cabin was in the middle of all of this and that night, I fell asleep to the sound of The Nile.
June 29
Today, we headed back to Kampala at 9:30 by crowding twenty one people in a fourteen person taxi. It took us three hours to get home due to traffic and unpaved, pot hole filled roads. We sunburned and sick. When we finally got home, we were too exhausted to work so we took the day off.
Tonight, we found out one of the patients we had been taking care of passed away. Some of my friends had found her (Nanazi) neglected in a room, starving and malnutrition with an un-bandaged/dressed wound. She had been there for three months and had not yet been seen by a doctor. This happens very frequently at Mulago which is extremely frustrating and disturbing. This is one of those days that I despise Africa.
June 30
Today, we woke up very early (8:00 AM) to get to Katanga by 9:00 AM. We were planning to meet the contractor of the slums in order to purchase a plot of land for Shakira. We went to the land (10x 15 feet) and tried to negotiate a fair price.
At 12:00 PM, we headed to lunch and at around 1:00 PM, we returned to the slums to visit Favia, one of the women whose business we helped start. Her business was going very well and she was paying back her loans weekly. She had an asthma attack yesterday and was in pain. We brought her an inhaler and some fever reduction pills.
After spending time with her, we went to Casena to visit the street kids. We decided to meet the family (or aunt) of one of the kids, Robert. At 6:00 M, we headed home and ate dinner.
Meeting Robert’s aunt today was a great experience. Although he was orphaned two years ago and lives on the street by day, he is one of the few that is fortunate enough to have a place to sleep in at night.
He told us that many of the street kids sleep under trucks at night to avoid thieves.
Throughout our visit, I was again reminded about how fortunate I am and how much I take education for granted. I saw the happiness and excitement in Robert’s eyes and the relief in his aunt’s.
It was amazing to see how much a small amount of money makes a huge difference in someone’s life.
I was again reminded of the beauty in each child of Uganda. Despite their destitution, their challenges and their tragedies they maintain a smile on their face. Their appreciation for life is so vast and incomparable to the lack of appreciation American children have.
Robert’s aunt was so welcoming and hospitable with the small amount of material things she had. She sold peanuts at the side of the road and shared an entire packet with us. I have felt very convicted lately about the amount of “things” these kids have. But something I lack in which they have is constant joy and hope despite their situation..
Specialized Vocabulary:
“Tchi-tchi”- what
“Chigwe”- what’s up
“Vaygo”- move
July 1
Today, I woke up and found out we had run our of running water. This was the ninth day I have gone without a shower. At ten, we headed to the slums where we coloured with the kids for an hour and then met up with Shakira and the contractor. We wanted to purchase the plot of land and build two houses on it, one for her and one to rent out in order to help start a business for her. We tried to negotiate with the contractor and he denied, informing us we would need to purchase two plots of land to do that.
We looked at another piece of land that was near a junk yard and had water running through it. We decided to bargain (100,000 shillings per plot). We wanted both (to rent out one and keep the other for Shakira). After bargaining, we settled for 250,00 shillings for both.
At 4:00 PM, I returned home. The water was still out.
Today was amazing. As we informed twenty three year old Shakira that she no longer had to worry about making rent for her shack with muddy floors, she began to cry with happiness and relief. She knew this land would sustain her for life. After watching her reaction, I began to feel accomplished as I knew we were doing good and that a small amount of money could go so far in someone’s life. It felt great to know our contribution would feed her far more than a day, it would feed her for years to come.
Upon signing the contract, for Shakira’s land, I could not help but wonder how credible the contract was. As Ugandan businesses are so corrupt, it is hard to decipher if he land will be evoked in the future. I observed that because families living in the slums are so destitute, they are not respected or taken seriously. I truly hope that even after we leave, Shakira will be able to continue renting her house and supporting her family.
I realized today how much of an impact Shakira has had I my life. Although we were aiding her financially and had somewhat of a business relationship, she told me I had become a close friend and that she wanted me to come back and visit. She gave me a calendar that she had bought with the little money she has so that I could count down the months to when I visit her again.
July 2
Today, I woke up to no running water once again. This really frustrated me and started off my day badly. I left the house at 10:00 AM and headed to the slums. We taught the kids a few more words in English and made them all bracelets. At 2:00 PM, we visited Shakira and found out it was her youngest child’s (Esther) birthday. I decided to plan a celebration for the following day and bring a birthday cake. Shakira told me she had never had cake.
At 4:00 PM, I took a boda home in hopes of running water. I got home to find none.
It has finally hit me that tomorrow will be the last day I will spend at the slums. I realize how much I will miss it here. The smiles, the people, and even the crazy transportation. I decided to milk every moment. To embrace the danger of riding on a boda and having the wind hit my face. To see the beauty in two friends (male and/or female) walking hand in hand. I even began appreciating the smells of Uganda- the sewage, the smell of grilled corn and pancakes. I stopped becoming frustrated with the amount of dust and dirt in the wind and began to love the color of red soil.
I will miss it all, the good and the bad and especially the mannerisms of Ugandans.
Again, I was reminded of my passion for development and the destitute. I could do what I have been doing here for he rest of my life. I feel most fulfilled when my focus is on helping others. This trip has really showed me that true happiness is found in the pursuit rather than in the end result.
July 3
Today, we were out of the house by 11:00 AM to meet Shakira at the church in the slums where we teach the kids. We got o Katanga at 11:30 AM and gathered the kids in the church. We bought a cake which was extremely hard and stale. We divided it up in forty five pieces and ate and sang together.
. At 12:00 PM, we said goodbye to all the children we had grown so close to as well as all of the women. We headed to Garden City ( a mall) to eat lunch in celebration of all the work we had done.
At 2:00 PM, we headed home to running water and I was finally able to shower.
The mall disgusted me. It was only a five minute drive from Katanga, one of the most impoverished slums in Uganda. The majority of the people in the mall were Mzungus and apparently, the majority of the people in the mall are people working for NGO’s and non-profits. They spend so much money on material things and return to working to helping the poor. I see this as hypocrisy. I had no idea such a luxurious mall could be located in such an impoverished community.
July 4
As today is our last full day in Uganda, we took the kids from Namusera to the only pool in Uganda which is two feet deep. In order to get there, all of us (eighty four people) fit into a bus with only fifty seats. We finally arrived and spent the day swimming and playing with the children. Many of them had never swam before, and one of the house mothers (Florence) told me this will probably be the best day of their year.
At the end of the day, we gave each of them a pair of underwear (as they only had one each which was full of holes). They were so happy and grateful and overall, it was a great ending to an amazing experience here in Uganda.
At around 6:00 PM, our entire group went out to eat at a Thai restaurant. It was a beautiful place and a luxurious way to end our month long journey. We came home and packed of all our things. Its so strange to think that in the morning, we will be on our way back to materialism, responsibility and a world that I know will no longer be a reality whereby I can live comfortably after all I’ve seen.
The unknown becomes the known…
Normal has taken on a completely new connotation. How do you define ‘normal’? Is ‘normal’ the life that I am immune to in the West or does it mimic the lifestyle of those in the slums, the orphanages, the low quality hospitals and the streets?
Either way, I will not forget the faces of hope and hopelessness, each bearing a face of survival and strength but mainly perseverance. The smells of Mulago with blood stained floors and the stench of feces and death. The small little cots with the neglected patients. No self-pity- untreated, hungry, thirsty, exhausted and unloved. Wounds that were never treated. Infections that could have easily been prevented with simply antibiotics.
Sobbing mothers and hopeless fathers. Children deprived of innocence and childhood. Living in fear and gasping for life. Brittle children and sturdy old men.
No comfort, no veil between the act of dying and death. Easily prevented but too many to save.
And Africa became like home. I times I wanted to leave, at times I wanted to stay. I won’t forget what I saw. I won’t forget what I learned. The ultimate adventure, risk, spontaneity and experience. No constraints, no precautions. This was the only way to experience it all.
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