Best Week Ever!

My trip to Mbale started with a bang. After driving through the savannah and the hills, we drove up a mountain (on which we got stuck in the mud for 45 minutes) and watched the sunset over Uganda. We could see for miles and miles. The next day after breakfast, we went to Children’s Resotration Outreach and played with homeless street children and learned about the CRO program. CRO gives them two meals a day, counsels them, and supports their schooling, but unfortunately cannot shelter them. We had seen many children sleeping on the streets, so it was both happy and heartbreaking to see them being children during the daytime. We learned that one major problem for them is drugs. When one child was asked why he cannot give up drugs, he said that Mbale is cold at night and he cannot afford a blanket. “The drugs are my blanket.”

Even in Kampala, there are so many street children. You always hear that most homeless in America are children too… but the homeless children are much more visible here. Often they choose to be on the streets because street life may be better than their home lives. They often come from violent homes, and they choose not to go to school because they can make money on the streets. Unfortunately it can be a confusing moral dilemma about whether or not to give them money. Many of them don’t choose street life. Kampala has a large problem with human trafficking. Many of the children (and prostitutes) here are kidnapped from villages or sold by their parents and beg and work for bosses. Thus, giving money to children may mean giving money to their bosses so that they can acquire more children.

Now for the fun part!

Later that day, we got cabins on a hillside that overlooked Sipi Falls. If ever I can post pictures, you will agree with me that it is absolutely gorgeous. We went on a two hour hike to the base of the falls and stood in the spray from the water (though we were not allowed to swim because SIT is currently battling a lawsuit from another program about a swimming-related death). That night, after dinner when we were all singing around the campfire, I snuck to the top of the hill on which we were staying and stood alone in the dark on top of the mountain. From this island in the sky, I could see 360 degrees of other mountains and flatland and Lake Choga for miles and miles. My friend Laura called and had suspected where I had gone off too. She met me on top of the mountain and we decided to sleep under the African stars.

After taking all of our bedsheets and making a little bed on the ground, we talked about life, stargazed, and found shapes in the clouds. We actually saw a star slowly fall and burn out. The clouds above us started moving much closer and much more quickly and we thought maybe it was about to storm. But suddenly everything around us went white and turned to mist, and we could no longer see further than our little island. We realized that we were inside a cloud. We just looked at each other and then jumped up and started dancing. We danced for probably 15 minutes until the cloud had gone. After that we had little left to say and we fell asleep under the full moon. We woke up in the morning to the sun rising over Sipi Falls on our right. Muna, our “minister of transport”/ taxi driver, hiked up the mountain to watch the sunrise and filled us with some fresh parables (as he is accustomed to doing) to start the day. He loves animal analogies, and I think this one in particular was “be a snail. Leave your mark behind.”

The next day, we hiked up to see two other waterfalls and we stood behind one of them and got completely drenched before we split into groups and went into villages to do focus groups. My group spoke to farmers about cattle rustling which has caused a huge conflict in the region for the last fifty years. The Karamojong, a violent tribe in the East, believe that all horned cattle in the world belong to them and were stolen at some point. (interesting fact: one reason for the chaos and conflict in Karamoja is that they were neglected by British colonization. Great Britain said “geez, we are not going to deal with that,” and left Karamoja alone). They justify their cattle raids on the grounds that they are taking back what is rightfully theirs. They kill and rape and burn and pillage while they steal the cows. Cattle rustling affects everything from the education system to the health care system to the economy of Kapchorwa which is a two day walk from Karamoja.

We then left for the rural homestay. It was fun dropping everyone off and seeing where they lived… little mud, grass-roofed houses, hikes up undrivable terrain, baboon territory, etc. Any children we encountered on the way were scared of our car. One time we were swarmed by them until our taxi turned on. They each jumped back about 10 feet and briefly cowered. The last thing our taxi-driver told to us before we got to our homes was don’t walk without a man at night. According to him, the baboons are known to (to censor this for my 5 year old readers) forcibly have their way with women. He is kinda crazy. He said even a newborn male infant could serve as baboon repellent at night.

Our rural homestay was amazing. Cara and I got unlucky because we had a tin roof instead of a grass-roofed hut… and we had a mattress to share. Our resentment quickly faded though because we had a wonderful time in the village. They were very fond of feeding us… way way way too much! (For one breakfast … which people out there usually cannot afford to eat… we were served 30 matooke, an entire cabbage, and 4 pounds of rice). Our dad was the chairman on the local council and he took us all around the community to talk to farmers about our research on subsistence farming. We spoke to like 50 cassava farmers and one pot smuggler. We had two one-year-old babies living with us who liked to play with knives. Most children here do. I feel like I missed out when I was growing up because we were not allowed to play with huge machetes or run with knives. But I guess monopoly was the next best thing. Gotta make the best with what ya got.

Our gift to the family was a goat (also soap and salt). When the goat arrived by motorcycle, our dad was really confused, but the look on his face when he found out it was a gift was unforgettable. I have never seen someone so excited and so grateful about a gift I had given. He made plans for the goat—he will build a shelter so it doesn’t have to worry about getting wet, milk it for the children everyday, and borrow a neighbor’s male goat to impregnate ours so that he can save up enough goats to trade them for a cow. Cara and I also got to milk the goat. I accidentally shot both my dad and myself with the milk until the goat kicked me and I spilled most of the children’s breakfast on the ground. I wish I could post pictures!

On our third day in the homestay, Cara and I, hopped on the back of some bicycles and rode to Kenya. We freely walked past customs and wandered around Kisumu Road (two hours from Barrack’s grandmother). Nothing really exciting happened because all the cool shows didn’t start until after dark… but we did get really cheap tea and a stalker!

Our last day was bitter sweet. Our dad repeatedly told us we were good people (as he had told us the whole time). To thank us, he bought 2 one-foot tall mahogany trees named Cara and Alex. We planted them on his property and he promised that they would be there whenever we come back. He even said that he would water them everyday for a month and when Cara and Alex are medium-sized, he will make two cement stones with the names and bury them so that we can always know which trees are ours. He was so cute… and also very protective of us. He had a wonderfully welcoming family. We promised to send him pictures.

I am back in Kampala for now, but next week I will begin an internship with The AIDS Support Organization (TASO) in Mbale, Uganda. I think I will be working with counselors there and hopefully I will be involved in the outreach programs. I will keep you updated!!! Yay!

To those of you interested in learning more about schools and disabled people in Uganda:

Because education is seen as a way out of poverty, schools here are intense! A huge number of children go to boarding school (even when they are five). Two of my host siblings go to a really good boarding school. This is their schedule: They are woken by a bell at 3:30am. “If you are not in the classroom by 4, you just kneel” (they cane you in schools). At 4am, mandatory study hours start. Breakfast is at 6am. At 7am classes start. They have a lunch break and a 30 minute dinner break. At 7pm mandatory study hours start. They last until 10pm. The next day, they are again woken at 3:30am.

As for the disabled… again the disabled are much more visible in Uganda. There are so many more people with natural physical deformities (a huge reminder of the prominence and convenience of both plastic surgery and wheel chairs in the US). Also, many people are crippled in accidents and cannot be helped here. An incredible amount of people crawl around the city with sandals on their hands and calluses on their knees. Not only have I never seen people crawling around the city in America… but I have never seen them try to cross the road of anarchy on all fours. Every time I see a careening taxi with a man crawling in front of it, I hold my breath. It is kind of terrifying. I do enjoy seeing careening taxis with men on roller skates holding onto the back for a free ride.

T.I.A.

I am now called Balambi. My parents gave me an African name that corresponds with the clan I belong to now. In Uganda several kingdoms exist. The central and largest clan is Buganda. (Uganda was named by the British as a mispronounciation of the word Buganda). Within the Buganda Kingdom there are 56 clans. Each is represented by a different totem. My family belongs to the Otter Clan. The clan that a person belongs to helps determine that person's name. Here, they do not use surnames for a whole family... but what a person's name is points to the clan he belongs to. Now The maids call me Balambi.

Last Saturday I stood in the Nile River!!! When we got to the Nile in Jinja, I was pretty choked up because I could not believe I was actually standing at the Nile’s Source… at the source of so much history, etc. For me, it was an incredible experience. When we left the city, we were able to see so much more of the natural beauty of Uganda. We saw rolling hills and lots of tropical fruits and flowers and sugar cane. It is beautiful. We ate lunch overlooking the river and then had an orientation about our homestay near the banks. While our teacher was speaking, monkeys started wildly jumping through the trees 30 feet away from us. One even squatted for about 5 minutes on the closest branch and ate a banana and stared at all of us.

For moments like that… some of us less-seasoned African explorers say “TIA.” TIA is something Leonardo DiCaprio says in Blood Diamonds… It means “This is Africa.” Other times we say TIA include:

When you see a little boy carrying a machete that is nearly as tall as he is. TIA. When you see a baby girl sitting, momentarily-unattended, in front of mountains of bananas. TIA. When you see a roadside shop selling 6 coffins next to a fruit stand painted with the Coke Logo and unleashed goats are playing in front of it. TIA. When little boys run through town without shirts and shoes (or at times naked) and little girls with their baby siblings strapped to their backs stand on the side of the highway and beg. TIA. When you see a boy watching you from a distance who appears to be eating a stick… and when you ask him what he is eating he says “stick.” When you see a shoddy banana stand with a paper print out sign above it that says “We treat diseases.” When women carry (and balance!!!) everything from benches to bananas to huge bags of rice on their heads. When you see huge long-horned cattle, goats, chickens, dogs, and storks walking along the streets and eating the trash off the ground. TIA

Everyone here LOVES OBAMA!!! … King Obama!!! The country is full of campaigners everywhere. At the craft market, a poster-size painted portrait of him hangs. In another shop they have a pile of US 1$ bills with his face on the middle. People here also love to talk about Obama. When people find out we are from America they ask about him, about who we are voting for, if we are from Illinois “the land of Obama.” Every one of our lecturers has mentioned him. He is called the “Child of Africa.” One of the reasons they love him so much is that he is also from East Africa.

The rest of my weekend was also very exciting. My first homestay family cancelled at the last minute, I will no longer be living with royalty. I now live with Dan and Agnes Lubinga. Dan is an accountant and he works for the African Centre for Treatment of Torture Victims. He has lived in Mppererwe his whole life and is the consul (he runs unopposed every time). He is also in a night program to get his Masters Degree. Agnes is a housewife and has 5 children (including twins which makes her very special here). Because they have twins they are called Nalongo and Salongo. She also raises many chickens (though she used to have 400) and pigs. We have three housemaids and a cousin that lives with the family and also does work. They are very very nice people… and are wealthy here. Their house is really nice, and I have my own room. I have a toilet and a pit latrine and a shower (though I bathe with a basin). They have a gated compound including a garage for their car, maids quarters, a kitchen, chicken and pig coupes, etc. I guess I lucked out with accommodations… but many other students are certainly having a more eye-opening experience than I am. And while I feel safe inside the concrete walls, I feel isolated and oblivious to what is around me.

Unfortunately right after I met my family, I got sick. The first thing I did after I put my bags down was go to the bathroom to puke. After dinner, in the middle of conversation, I ran to the bathroom and didn’t really make it. My host mom was worried, and I went straight to bed. I didn’t get to spend much bonding time with my family the first night. The next day, the doctor told me it was food poisoning. I took some medicine and felt better.

When I came home, my sister came in and whispered “Mommy is calling you.” I was a little scared... She was standing in the bathroom with a basin drawn. I had just heard that another student had her mom “show her how to bathe” on the first night. Since I went to bed without a bath… my mom showed me the next night. When I came into the bathroom, she just asked “Do you fear me.” I knew that I could either laugh or cry about the fact that I was being bathed as a twenty year old… and about the fact that she was acting like I did not know how to do it or couldn’t figure it out on my own. I chose to laugh… I went along with it… but it was no less awkward. At least all my friends thought it was hilarious and my story was entertaining. They still ask me to retell the story, I have been told it is the best homestay story yet.

The next morning during my first taxi ride alone… (I had already drove 3 miles in the wrong direction the previous day with other students)… I got off too early and walked in the wrong direction. When I asked an old man the direction to my school, he said “you are lost!” and helped me hitchhike a ride with some random old people to my school. They were very nice (everyone here is!). After ten minutes, a huge truck hit the back of their car. We had to pull off to a side street and they haggled and argued over how much to pay for the damages…. I couldn’t understand any of it… The end of the story is that I was a little late to school… but I had another story to tell.

At home, I play Jenga and Uno with my host sister Agatha (8years old) and my host cousin Ronald (16 years old). Also one of my brothers is turning 18 on September 15th and he reminds me sooo much of Sam. I found an African version of him for sure. He likes basketball, wants to come to America for college to study law, is tall, is very proud of his expensive Air Force Ones, is a little cocky, listens to rap and hip hop, etc. I think they have very similar personalities and senses of humor. I will post a picture of him sometime. His name is Kato, and he was really fun to hang out with… except that he left for boarding school today, and I may not see him more than once or twice more.

On Thursday, I visited TASO (The Aids Support Organization). We took a tour of the hospital where patients can recieve free medical treatment and free counseling. The TASO choir and drum group sang to us some of their stories. It was so sad and so amazing to see how strong they were. They spoke of losing spouses and children to AIDS, of the stigmatization and losing jobs, and of the need for AIDS advocacy. It was a powerful experience. Uganda's situation has improved very much in this arena... but it still affects people everywhere you look.

On a lighter note... I cannot escape from bananashere. Bananas are also(much more visibly)everywhere I look. It is not only the staple crop here… it is everyone’s favorite food. We have bananas (matooke) for breakfast, snack, tea time, and dinner. I have lunch on my own in the city… and I am able to escape from them briefly, but my mom gives me bananas every morning to take to school with me. They serve them fresh, grilled, baked, boiled, mashed, in stew, in bread, fried, with Gnut sauce, mixed with veggies, etc. etc. etc. They even make beer with fermented bananas. They are everywhere you look on the side of the road. Matooke, Matoooke, Matooke!!! They have so much wonderful tropical fruit for cheap here. I have pineapple and watermelon and passion fruit or juice for breakfast… they have mango, and jack fruit, and papaya, etc… On the first day, I hid a half-eaten one in a zip lock bag and dumped it when I got to class the next day. I just cant eat so much banana!

Also, although Uganda is hugely Christian, many people who can afford to be are polygamous. We were told that marriages here aren’t necessarily about feelings but about money. And there is one word to mean “I like, love, or want” (njagala).

That’s all for now. Cya! Weraba!!!
Also... Check out the link to my pictures!!! I have posted some of them on Picassa. Well. I was going to but the power just shut off... We will see.