Pen or bomb? One can never really know… pick up at your own risk!
Oh my god this place is ridiculous.
In the middle of class a student silently approached the door, mumbled something in Luo and quickly walked away. Immediately following my co-teacher instructed all the students to depart the classroom and meet in the assembly area where the Amuro district police were waiting. .
The unexpected visit went as follows:
Student representative: Good afternoon police officials, police deputies, police assistants, head teacher, teachers, international teachers, students and… (Literally listing off virtually every person/position in attendance). I will be brief as I do not actually know when the police have called this meeting. I would just like to welcome our visitors and now a few words from our head teacher.
Head teacher: Good afternoon police officials, police deputies, police assistants, teachers, international teachers, students and… (Literally listing off virtually every person/position in attendance). I will be brief as I don’t wish to take up to much time but first I would just like to welcome our visitors and now a few words from _____ teacher.
_____ teacher: Good afternoon police officials, police deputies, police assistants, head teacher, teachers, international teachers, students and… (Literally listing off virtually every person/position in attendance). I will be brief as I don’t wish to take up to much time but first I would just like to welcome our visitors and now a few words from _____.
Sweet baby Jesus- introductions went on for nearly 15 minutes! This introduction ritual is common practice in Ugandan.
Finally the purpose for their visit is revealed- to discuss the events in Kampala with the students. If someone would have asked me what I thought the police were about to say I would have predicted the following:
Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure that you are al aware of the events that occurred in Kampala last week. First, it is the belief of the government that Gulu region is not at risk of a follow up attack (True). We are simply here as a precaution and to remind students to be aware of their surroundings and alert to suspicious activity. Students should also avoid crowed places and events. Thank you for your time.
Ha! I sure was wrong.
The four police officers started by telling students that schools ARE being targeted by terrorist groups (false) and that there is a strong possibility that they will all die. No, you did not read that wrong. The police told the students that they will all likely die at the hands of terrorists.
Police officer #1 started his speech by describing to students how a backpack could conceal a bomb (maybe- but a stretch) and that if they see a backpack they should call the police. Did they forget that they came to a SCHOOL? Everyone has backpacks!!
Police officer #2 followed by telling students they need to be weary of strangers. They should avoid all strangers and report any stranger they see on campus. The police are clearly unaware of the fact that this school gets a lot of aid money and therefore people tour it daily. The officer warned students that strangers carry bombs, all strangers, and they will die it a stranger comes on campus. During the course of the lecture two different vehicles pulled up filled with strangers. I can’t believe we survived!
Police officer #3 told the students how a cell phone could double as a bomb so if a student happens upon an abandoned phone (s)he shouldn’t pick it up because it will explode and they will blow up. He also stated, in response to a question, that bombs can also come in pill form (really?) and blow someone up from the inside. This confused me, would a terrorist swap out the meds of unsuspecting sick people in order to blow them up or would they turn themselves into a human bomb by digesting the pill? And how much damage could it really do insulated by organs, bones, skin, etc. What would detonate the pill bomb? Water? Food? Bile? I have so many unanswered questions about pill bombs.
Police officer #4 warned the students (remember students) of pens. Yup- PENS! He warned students of the high, very high, probability of bombs being hidden in pens. Terrorists really like pens that click since that is an easy way to detonate but any pen can be used as a bomb. The lecture about the pen bombs continued for over 25 minutes. After the stern warning about the real threat of bombs being hidden in pens the police opened up the talk for questions. A student asked, “What should I do if I find a pen?” The police responded with a completely logical answer, “first, you should make a sign to alert others of the pen bomb. After that you should leave and call the police.” Please reread the response. Make a sign! I can’t stop laughing about this. Make a freaking sign and put it next to the pen. Oh my god- this is so ridiculous and absurd.
After this initial question there was a series of equally outrageous questions and answers but I couldn’t stop giggling from the pen/sign comment to pay much attention. A FREAKING SIGN- hahahahahaha!
So… you can only guess how I am spending my week. Obviously, I am making warning signs for all the unidentified pens at the IC house. Oh how I use my spare time productively here ☺
And P.S. beware the Witch Doctors and Gays they are just as dangerous as the Al Shabab terrorist group.
The humor in this place is the only thing that keeps me sane.
A freaking sign…
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Sweet baby Samuel
Last year I blogged about how everyone hits their Ugandan wall- it is inevitable; everyone who comes to this place has a moment where they want out. Last summer I hit my African wall after not being able to get a cup of coffee. I cried…over coffee. I wish I could say that coffee brought me to tears again this year but I am not that fortunate.
On Monday July 19, 2010 at approximately 8:30 am. I stood in front of a class of 60, S3 (10/11th grade) students and wept. In my six years of teaching I have never openly cried in front of a class but today my I lost control.
This year there are only four women in the T/EX program that are mature (over 30): Jen, Lisa, Catherine, and me. We decided that we were to old for communal living and cold showers and we were going to treat ourselves to a day of luxury and pampering. We strategically planned our day for Sunday because the remaining group members would be touring St. Jude’s Orphanage. The four of us opted out of St. Jude’s since we already spend a sizable amount of time there weekly. It was perfect- we wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feeling by not extending an invite and we also wouldn’t miss out on a new adventure. The mature women departed the house around 10:00; our first stop was the Acholi Inn for a swim. We then moved to Boma for pedis, massages, and girl talk about life, love, and anything else we deemed important. The day was progressing just as planned. Pure relaxation. I had my pedi first and went in for my massage around 2:00. Our group was scheduled to arrive at St. Jude’s also around 2:00.
After the massage I took a hot shower and was egger to discuss the “full body” aspect of the massage with the ladies. They do a full frontal massage- it was actually pretty awesome ☺ but I was greeted with sorrowful faces.
The events I missed at St. Jude’s while I was getting a massage:
2:00- group arrives at St. Jude’s
Shortly after two someone mentions that a baby fell
About five minutes later someone realizes that the baby fell down a well
A few minutes later the baby is being pulled from the well and CPR begins
Americans frantically attempt to resuscitate the baby
Americans, after very little direction from the Ugandans, take the baby in their vehicle to the hospital
Hospital staff moves at a snails pace while Americans scream and run around looking for a doctor.
Shortly after 3:00 baby Samuel is declared dead
*I don’t feel that there is a need to rehash the last hour of his life in specific detail but I am selfish and glad that I wasn’t there to witness the events.
While I was getting a massage baby Samuel lost his life and my friends, despite their best efforts failed to save him. I am saddened in a way that I cannot describe. I am sad that I don’t know which baby he was- there are over 80 kids at St. Jude’s and although I play with them all on a regular basis I haven’t successfully learned all their names. I won’t likely be able to figure out exactly who he was until I scan their faces and see who is missing. I am sad for the other children who witnessed the loss- they have already lost so much. I am sad for my girls empowerment group, will it suffer because of this unfortunate accident? I feel for my group members who had to witness his death and those who tried and failed to save him. I am angry that the death of a child elicits almost no reaction from Ugandans because it is so common. I am angry at myself for feeling so sorry for myself.
I have hit my African wall. I am ready to come home. I am ready to go back to my easy life and not have to deal with death anymore.
As I stood in front of my class today in their classroom literally made of sticks I lost it. My sadness, frustration, and exhaustion overtook me and I wept without embarrassment or shame for myself and baby Samuel.
I have more to write but I’m heading to St. Jude’s to play with babies and pretend like yesterdays events never happened…
On Monday July 19, 2010 at approximately 8:30 am. I stood in front of a class of 60, S3 (10/11th grade) students and wept. In my six years of teaching I have never openly cried in front of a class but today my I lost control.
This year there are only four women in the T/EX program that are mature (over 30): Jen, Lisa, Catherine, and me. We decided that we were to old for communal living and cold showers and we were going to treat ourselves to a day of luxury and pampering. We strategically planned our day for Sunday because the remaining group members would be touring St. Jude’s Orphanage. The four of us opted out of St. Jude’s since we already spend a sizable amount of time there weekly. It was perfect- we wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feeling by not extending an invite and we also wouldn’t miss out on a new adventure. The mature women departed the house around 10:00; our first stop was the Acholi Inn for a swim. We then moved to Boma for pedis, massages, and girl talk about life, love, and anything else we deemed important. The day was progressing just as planned. Pure relaxation. I had my pedi first and went in for my massage around 2:00. Our group was scheduled to arrive at St. Jude’s also around 2:00.
After the massage I took a hot shower and was egger to discuss the “full body” aspect of the massage with the ladies. They do a full frontal massage- it was actually pretty awesome ☺ but I was greeted with sorrowful faces.
The events I missed at St. Jude’s while I was getting a massage:
2:00- group arrives at St. Jude’s
Shortly after two someone mentions that a baby fell
About five minutes later someone realizes that the baby fell down a well
A few minutes later the baby is being pulled from the well and CPR begins
Americans frantically attempt to resuscitate the baby
Americans, after very little direction from the Ugandans, take the baby in their vehicle to the hospital
Hospital staff moves at a snails pace while Americans scream and run around looking for a doctor.
Shortly after 3:00 baby Samuel is declared dead
*I don’t feel that there is a need to rehash the last hour of his life in specific detail but I am selfish and glad that I wasn’t there to witness the events.
While I was getting a massage baby Samuel lost his life and my friends, despite their best efforts failed to save him. I am saddened in a way that I cannot describe. I am sad that I don’t know which baby he was- there are over 80 kids at St. Jude’s and although I play with them all on a regular basis I haven’t successfully learned all their names. I won’t likely be able to figure out exactly who he was until I scan their faces and see who is missing. I am sad for the other children who witnessed the loss- they have already lost so much. I am sad for my girls empowerment group, will it suffer because of this unfortunate accident? I feel for my group members who had to witness his death and those who tried and failed to save him. I am angry that the death of a child elicits almost no reaction from Ugandans because it is so common. I am angry at myself for feeling so sorry for myself.
I have hit my African wall. I am ready to come home. I am ready to go back to my easy life and not have to deal with death anymore.
As I stood in front of my class today in their classroom literally made of sticks I lost it. My sadness, frustration, and exhaustion overtook me and I wept without embarrassment or shame for myself and baby Samuel.
I have more to write but I’m heading to St. Jude’s to play with babies and pretend like yesterdays events never happened…
Friday, July 16, 2010
...
…
I feel like I should blog about Sundays Terrorist attack in Kampala but I can’t. I haven’t been able to process my feelings so when I try to think or write about the event I am overrun with a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings that I can’t clearly sort. I also have not had access to any media outlets so I really know very little of what happened. Also, I can’t allow myself to think about the attack and speculate on what if, what now, what next- because when I allow those thoughts I begin to feel uneasy and panicked. But just to easy the minds of those who may worry (mom) this much I know is true…
1) Gulu, although the 2nd largest city in Uganda, is still very small. It is not large enough or populated enough to be a target.
2) Invisible Children has instituted a curfew (dusk) for all volunteers until further notice.
3) Invisible Children has instructed all volunteers to avoid public events or gatherings, especially those that may draw a large western crowd.
4) Invisible Children will now use their vehicles (with decals and logos removed) for all group travel rather then public transportation or private hires.
5) As of now, I am scheduled to spend one night in Kampala prior to departing Uganda but have been assured that alternative travel will be arranged if safety cannot be assured.
6) Finally- I really am safe and okay. ☺
Best day ever!
The day after I found out about the terrorist attack I had possibly the most satisfying day in the past two summers. It is no surprise that I am an emotional wreck here- it is quite the daily (and sometimes hourly) emotional rollercoaster.
I started Tuesday morning with a call to California. It was a brief conversation but still great. A few minute chat with someone from home can make my entire day. I hope those I speak with realize how much I cherish those moments.
Then I went for a run- there is something so cathartic and relaxing about running on a dirt track and breathing in fresh air while the sun rises.
After that my co-teacher, Florence (Flo-Dawg to me) called an apologized to me. We had a we-bit of a disagreement the previous day and I was worried that our relationship would be strained. She is a tough, aggressive, and stubborn woman and frankly I’m a little scared of her so I am in complete shock that SHE called me! I like a strong woman who isn’t afraid to admit a mistake.
Next, I set out on my long journey to school with Boda Paul. Normally we just ride silently but today we filled our time with conversation. He is so interesting and smart. He shared stories of life during the conflict and his views on the current corrupt political system. I am normally relived to get off the boda but I could have rode around with him all day, listening to his stories.
School was actually not awful which means it was a success. I taught a lesson and the class actually responded- normally they just stare at me with blank faces. I don’t know if they don’t understand my accent- the questioning- or just think I’m odd but it get very frustrating to talk at someone and hardly get any type or response. I’m glad they are coming around.
After school I headed to Saint Jude’s Orphanage for the girls empowerment and mentoring group that Jen and I started. It was amazing. The girls blew my mind. Watching them interact with each other was beautiful. I am anticipating that my time at St. Jude’s will be the moments I treasure most.
And finally Jen and I had a glass (well maybe a bottle) of wine.
I couldn’t ask for a better day!
I feel like I should blog about Sundays Terrorist attack in Kampala but I can’t. I haven’t been able to process my feelings so when I try to think or write about the event I am overrun with a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings that I can’t clearly sort. I also have not had access to any media outlets so I really know very little of what happened. Also, I can’t allow myself to think about the attack and speculate on what if, what now, what next- because when I allow those thoughts I begin to feel uneasy and panicked. But just to easy the minds of those who may worry (mom) this much I know is true…
1) Gulu, although the 2nd largest city in Uganda, is still very small. It is not large enough or populated enough to be a target.
2) Invisible Children has instituted a curfew (dusk) for all volunteers until further notice.
3) Invisible Children has instructed all volunteers to avoid public events or gatherings, especially those that may draw a large western crowd.
4) Invisible Children will now use their vehicles (with decals and logos removed) for all group travel rather then public transportation or private hires.
5) As of now, I am scheduled to spend one night in Kampala prior to departing Uganda but have been assured that alternative travel will be arranged if safety cannot be assured.
6) Finally- I really am safe and okay. ☺
Best day ever!
The day after I found out about the terrorist attack I had possibly the most satisfying day in the past two summers. It is no surprise that I am an emotional wreck here- it is quite the daily (and sometimes hourly) emotional rollercoaster.
I started Tuesday morning with a call to California. It was a brief conversation but still great. A few minute chat with someone from home can make my entire day. I hope those I speak with realize how much I cherish those moments.
Then I went for a run- there is something so cathartic and relaxing about running on a dirt track and breathing in fresh air while the sun rises.
After that my co-teacher, Florence (Flo-Dawg to me) called an apologized to me. We had a we-bit of a disagreement the previous day and I was worried that our relationship would be strained. She is a tough, aggressive, and stubborn woman and frankly I’m a little scared of her so I am in complete shock that SHE called me! I like a strong woman who isn’t afraid to admit a mistake.
Next, I set out on my long journey to school with Boda Paul. Normally we just ride silently but today we filled our time with conversation. He is so interesting and smart. He shared stories of life during the conflict and his views on the current corrupt political system. I am normally relived to get off the boda but I could have rode around with him all day, listening to his stories.
School was actually not awful which means it was a success. I taught a lesson and the class actually responded- normally they just stare at me with blank faces. I don’t know if they don’t understand my accent- the questioning- or just think I’m odd but it get very frustrating to talk at someone and hardly get any type or response. I’m glad they are coming around.
After school I headed to Saint Jude’s Orphanage for the girls empowerment and mentoring group that Jen and I started. It was amazing. The girls blew my mind. Watching them interact with each other was beautiful. I am anticipating that my time at St. Jude’s will be the moments I treasure most.
And finally Jen and I had a glass (well maybe a bottle) of wine.
I couldn’t ask for a better day!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Many thoughts jumbled together
I have been cut off from the world for far to many days- damn power and "The Rains" knocking out the internet!
An Average Day in for Michelle in Uganda:
5:50 am:
Turn on headlamp
Search floor for frogs, lizards, mice, rants, and other creatures
6:00 am:
Scale fence at Pece Stadium
Run 2-3 miles (FYI- I only do this if I have a buddy- I’m to much of a chicken to
both break into a building and run in the dark alone)
7:00 am:
Shower, i.e., wipe body down with baby wipes
7:30 am:
Leave for work via boda
Pay for my life as I race down bumpy, congested dirt roads.
8:20 am:
Arrive at work
Wipe entire body down in baby wipes… again
8:40 am:
Begin “teaching” a class that started at 8:20
8:40-5:00 pm:
Continue to “teach,” play solitaire, sit under trees, read, etc.
*1:20: Eat a spoonful of white rice for lunch
Attempt to focus through my starvation
Hide behind a tree and shove a power bar in my mouth
5:30 pm:
Arrive at St. Jude’s Orphanage to play with babies ☺
5:35 pm:
Covered in baby pee, pooh, snot, slobber etc.- but don’t care since the babies are so freaking awesome!
Plot how I am going to smuggle a whole orphanage of babies home!
7:00 pm:
Finally get home.
Eat dinner (fruit, rice, maybe a power bar or beef jerky- yum)
8:00 pm:
Get ready for the next day
9:00 pm:
Fall into bed
Put in earplugs since I don’t actually have a bedroom and I sleep in a partitioned off section of the living room.
Wowza… I’m working my ass off and loving every minute of it, well maybe not every minute but at least ¾ of every minute.
Miscellaneous….
Teaching my teacher (Angeline)
I “attempted” to teach my partner teacher how to format some basic documents in MS Word. She hasn’t EVER used a computer. It was difficult. I tried to give oral directions and also show her step-by-step directions on another computer but inevitably I just ended up pushing her out the way and “doing” the work for her… We eventually just played computer solitaire.
Power and Football
The power has been out here a lot this year…rumor has it that the “city” shuts it off to store it up for the world cup gamers. It sounds ridiculous but the power seems to miraculously turn back on just before a game starts. Priorities… football over daily electricity.
I found my Boda
I found “my” boda driver! We get each other. He kind of speaks English and wears a sports coat, which gives him mad credibility. He drives at a pace that I’m comfortable with and I don’t fear my life for the entire ride (just a portion). I fancy our relationship to that of the creepy flying creature and the Na’vi from Aviator. Once you find one another you are bonded for life… or at least 6 weeks.
Thank you universe
Sometimes the universe answers! After almost two weeks of going without a break… and no break in sight the sky opened up and dumped monsoon like rains from the sky. When it rains in Gulu town life stops. So I stopped. Thank you Universe- it was a much needed break.
****On a side note: The rains ruined “the network” so I can’t actually post the blogs that I have been writing.
Who am I?
I don’t what it is about this place that makes me cheap. I argue and haggle with everyone in town over literally 25 or 50 cents. I walked home at midnight the other night because all the boda drivers in town were trying to charge me 1000 (50 cents) shillings to get home and I KNOW it should only be 500 shillings (25 cents). How dare they try to charge me munu prices, I want Acholi prices. I spend a ridiculous amount of money on ridiculous things in the States but for some reason here I can’t justify spending for than two or three dollars on anything!
I also don’t fear the creatures here as much as I do at home. There are toads, mice, and maybe a rat living in my house. I see them scurry, run, and hop by and I don’t even flinch. In the morning- flocks of bats circle over head- I don’t mind. Creepy dogs scamper past me and I don’t scream or run to the other side of the road. Spiders in the latrine… whatever, if they don’t mind my pee then I don’t mind them!
D-Bags in G-Town
The power is out, the Internet is down, and the rain is coming down with a vengeance so I have been forced to take shelter in a local café while I wait out the storm. Other Americans are also taking cover… “Other” Americans in Gulu are…interesting, mostly full of ego and bravado believing that whatever they are doing in Gulu is better than what you are doing. They are more self-sacrificing, more giving, their organization is more reputable, or they are here to spread the word of Jesus- barf! Well, as I type I am forced by sweet Mother Nature to spend an undefined amount of time with a super d-bag. He lived here for over a year- ummm… I’m so impressed with his level of sacrifice. I also love his awesome use of Acholi terms and expressions. It impressed me on so many levels when he asked me what my program (agenda) was, and used the popular Acholi terms “it’s okay” and “you’re welcome” (these terms have a different connotation here), and I almost bowed down to his profound connection to the culture when he used his eyebrows to positively respond to a question rather than using words like the rest of us lowly westerners. It was almost like a quiz. Will this summer only mumu know what it means when I raise my eyebrows? He also had just spent time in another African community; helped build Invisible Children, and did so many other radical things (read with heavy sarcasm)! I hope he stumbles across my blog because he needs to know that he is a D-bag, braggart, ego monster who is super lame! And he is a ginger so…
An Average Day in for Michelle in Uganda:
5:50 am:
Turn on headlamp
Search floor for frogs, lizards, mice, rants, and other creatures
6:00 am:
Scale fence at Pece Stadium
Run 2-3 miles (FYI- I only do this if I have a buddy- I’m to much of a chicken to
both break into a building and run in the dark alone)
7:00 am:
Shower, i.e., wipe body down with baby wipes
7:30 am:
Leave for work via boda
Pay for my life as I race down bumpy, congested dirt roads.
8:20 am:
Arrive at work
Wipe entire body down in baby wipes… again
8:40 am:
Begin “teaching” a class that started at 8:20
8:40-5:00 pm:
Continue to “teach,” play solitaire, sit under trees, read, etc.
*1:20: Eat a spoonful of white rice for lunch
Attempt to focus through my starvation
Hide behind a tree and shove a power bar in my mouth
5:30 pm:
Arrive at St. Jude’s Orphanage to play with babies ☺
5:35 pm:
Covered in baby pee, pooh, snot, slobber etc.- but don’t care since the babies are so freaking awesome!
Plot how I am going to smuggle a whole orphanage of babies home!
7:00 pm:
Finally get home.
Eat dinner (fruit, rice, maybe a power bar or beef jerky- yum)
8:00 pm:
Get ready for the next day
9:00 pm:
Fall into bed
Put in earplugs since I don’t actually have a bedroom and I sleep in a partitioned off section of the living room.
Wowza… I’m working my ass off and loving every minute of it, well maybe not every minute but at least ¾ of every minute.
Miscellaneous….
Teaching my teacher (Angeline)
I “attempted” to teach my partner teacher how to format some basic documents in MS Word. She hasn’t EVER used a computer. It was difficult. I tried to give oral directions and also show her step-by-step directions on another computer but inevitably I just ended up pushing her out the way and “doing” the work for her… We eventually just played computer solitaire.
Power and Football
The power has been out here a lot this year…rumor has it that the “city” shuts it off to store it up for the world cup gamers. It sounds ridiculous but the power seems to miraculously turn back on just before a game starts. Priorities… football over daily electricity.
I found my Boda
I found “my” boda driver! We get each other. He kind of speaks English and wears a sports coat, which gives him mad credibility. He drives at a pace that I’m comfortable with and I don’t fear my life for the entire ride (just a portion). I fancy our relationship to that of the creepy flying creature and the Na’vi from Aviator. Once you find one another you are bonded for life… or at least 6 weeks.
Thank you universe
Sometimes the universe answers! After almost two weeks of going without a break… and no break in sight the sky opened up and dumped monsoon like rains from the sky. When it rains in Gulu town life stops. So I stopped. Thank you Universe- it was a much needed break.
****On a side note: The rains ruined “the network” so I can’t actually post the blogs that I have been writing.
Who am I?
I don’t what it is about this place that makes me cheap. I argue and haggle with everyone in town over literally 25 or 50 cents. I walked home at midnight the other night because all the boda drivers in town were trying to charge me 1000 (50 cents) shillings to get home and I KNOW it should only be 500 shillings (25 cents). How dare they try to charge me munu prices, I want Acholi prices. I spend a ridiculous amount of money on ridiculous things in the States but for some reason here I can’t justify spending for than two or three dollars on anything!
I also don’t fear the creatures here as much as I do at home. There are toads, mice, and maybe a rat living in my house. I see them scurry, run, and hop by and I don’t even flinch. In the morning- flocks of bats circle over head- I don’t mind. Creepy dogs scamper past me and I don’t scream or run to the other side of the road. Spiders in the latrine… whatever, if they don’t mind my pee then I don’t mind them!
D-Bags in G-Town
The power is out, the Internet is down, and the rain is coming down with a vengeance so I have been forced to take shelter in a local café while I wait out the storm. Other Americans are also taking cover… “Other” Americans in Gulu are…interesting, mostly full of ego and bravado believing that whatever they are doing in Gulu is better than what you are doing. They are more self-sacrificing, more giving, their organization is more reputable, or they are here to spread the word of Jesus- barf! Well, as I type I am forced by sweet Mother Nature to spend an undefined amount of time with a super d-bag. He lived here for over a year- ummm… I’m so impressed with his level of sacrifice. I also love his awesome use of Acholi terms and expressions. It impressed me on so many levels when he asked me what my program (agenda) was, and used the popular Acholi terms “it’s okay” and “you’re welcome” (these terms have a different connotation here), and I almost bowed down to his profound connection to the culture when he used his eyebrows to positively respond to a question rather than using words like the rest of us lowly westerners. It was almost like a quiz. Will this summer only mumu know what it means when I raise my eyebrows? He also had just spent time in another African community; helped build Invisible Children, and did so many other radical things (read with heavy sarcasm)! I hope he stumbles across my blog because he needs to know that he is a D-bag, braggart, ego monster who is super lame! And he is a ginger so…
Sunday, July 4, 2010
What do we develop when we develop?
Invisible Children (IC) Uganda is a kick ass organization. I can attempt to describe why it is so awesome but I really could never do it justice. IC is not a charity, it is an organization that seeks to educate and empower the community. IC has four primary programs: 1) Visible Scholarship Program, 2) Schools for Schools, 3) Village Savings and Loan Association, and 4) MEND. These programs (refer to IC website for additional information) all seek to educate and give tools for a sustainable future. I could go on and on but frankly I would end up writing pages! Basically, IC is at the forefront of development.
But with all the good there will inevitably be some negative fallout. In the short time that I have been absent from Gulu I have found that small changes are emerging. New industry is emerging in town- a to go coffee shop, a pizza restaurant, and many other places. These places emerged to meet the needs of outsiders. The Ugandans aren’t getting to go coffee nor are they having pizzas delivered. When foreigners choose to go coffee over the local product they are taking money away from the local restaurant. I can’t fault people for choosing the “new” product, the quality and taste is closer to American standards and the service is quicker- I prefer patronizing those places because I like them better and they meet my needs. But am I here to meet my needs? And by servicing my needs am I doing the Ugandans a disservice? I will ask myself thousands of questions while I am here am most of them I will never answer…
In addition to new industry there are also new attitudes- not large changes but minor shifts. Boda boda (motorcycle taxis) drivers seem to be increasing their prices for munus (white people). Some might not see this as a problem but if Americans pay the increased prices then soon the price structure will shift for all riders, American and Ugandan, and the Ugandans don’t have the means to pay the increased fares. Another emerging problem with Boda drivers is they are becoming more aggressive with the female riders. Last year, besides the occasional drunken midnight ride (the driver was drunk), I felt pretty safe getting around town. This year, however, a couple of the women have felt sexually violated by the drivers, nothing too dangerous but enough to shake the women and the entire group. The incident forced us to revaluate the way we get around town. It is easy to get angry with the Boda drivers but when one really thinks about it they must consider- what brought about the change? The only access most Ugandans have to American culture is through movies and music videos. How are women portrayed and what message does that send to the men around the world?
I could ponder development for an endless amount of time so I am going to cut myself short.
I know that IC does great things in Uganda but at what cost…
But with all the good there will inevitably be some negative fallout. In the short time that I have been absent from Gulu I have found that small changes are emerging. New industry is emerging in town- a to go coffee shop, a pizza restaurant, and many other places. These places emerged to meet the needs of outsiders. The Ugandans aren’t getting to go coffee nor are they having pizzas delivered. When foreigners choose to go coffee over the local product they are taking money away from the local restaurant. I can’t fault people for choosing the “new” product, the quality and taste is closer to American standards and the service is quicker- I prefer patronizing those places because I like them better and they meet my needs. But am I here to meet my needs? And by servicing my needs am I doing the Ugandans a disservice? I will ask myself thousands of questions while I am here am most of them I will never answer…
In addition to new industry there are also new attitudes- not large changes but minor shifts. Boda boda (motorcycle taxis) drivers seem to be increasing their prices for munus (white people). Some might not see this as a problem but if Americans pay the increased prices then soon the price structure will shift for all riders, American and Ugandan, and the Ugandans don’t have the means to pay the increased fares. Another emerging problem with Boda drivers is they are becoming more aggressive with the female riders. Last year, besides the occasional drunken midnight ride (the driver was drunk), I felt pretty safe getting around town. This year, however, a couple of the women have felt sexually violated by the drivers, nothing too dangerous but enough to shake the women and the entire group. The incident forced us to revaluate the way we get around town. It is easy to get angry with the Boda drivers but when one really thinks about it they must consider- what brought about the change? The only access most Ugandans have to American culture is through movies and music videos. How are women portrayed and what message does that send to the men around the world?
I could ponder development for an endless amount of time so I am going to cut myself short.
I know that IC does great things in Uganda but at what cost…
STRIKE!!!!!!!!
Shortly after posting my last blog I received news that I will not be heading to Atanga Secondary School because of a student lead strike. The students, upset over sports and a goat, attacked the head master of the school and now refuse to attend class. It has been reported that most adults have left campus. I’m not sure how situations like this get resolved or how long it will take for the ministry of education to step in.
Clearly, I will no longer work at that school and I will remain in town and work at a (more) local site. When I first received the news I was disappointed. I had requested to be at a camp school and was looking forward to the unique opportunity. However, because Catherine, the Teacher Exchange Coordinator, had to scramble to find me a replacement teacher she pulled from a list of teachers that had already had a successful partnership. This is great, actually wonderful! Last year my partner teacher was… irresponsible and difficult to communicate with, so having the opportunity to work with a teacher that has already proven herself is amazing.
A second opportunity also emerged by staying in town. Another teacher that I met wanted to start a reading program at St. Jude’s Orphanage and I offered to help. Since she is a science teacher, she was more than excited to develop a partnership. We will be developing a peer reading for the orphanage. We are still working on the process but basically we want to create a simple efficient reading program where older students can tutor younger students. Hopefully in the next week or two- I can develop a program, purchase supplies, and train a group of 6th grade orphan girls… hum… that seems like a lot since I also have a full days of teaching. Well, if I’m not able to work out all the kinks then I can always come back ☺
I’ll keep you posted. Hopefully, my next blog won’t begin with… Arg… this place is so frustrating.
Clearly, I will no longer work at that school and I will remain in town and work at a (more) local site. When I first received the news I was disappointed. I had requested to be at a camp school and was looking forward to the unique opportunity. However, because Catherine, the Teacher Exchange Coordinator, had to scramble to find me a replacement teacher she pulled from a list of teachers that had already had a successful partnership. This is great, actually wonderful! Last year my partner teacher was… irresponsible and difficult to communicate with, so having the opportunity to work with a teacher that has already proven herself is amazing.
A second opportunity also emerged by staying in town. Another teacher that I met wanted to start a reading program at St. Jude’s Orphanage and I offered to help. Since she is a science teacher, she was more than excited to develop a partnership. We will be developing a peer reading for the orphanage. We are still working on the process but basically we want to create a simple efficient reading program where older students can tutor younger students. Hopefully in the next week or two- I can develop a program, purchase supplies, and train a group of 6th grade orphan girls… hum… that seems like a lot since I also have a full days of teaching. Well, if I’m not able to work out all the kinks then I can always come back ☺
I’ll keep you posted. Hopefully, my next blog won’t begin with… Arg… this place is so frustrating.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Joyful/Discomfort
I refer to my time in Gulu as joyful discomfort. Many things about life in Uganda suck: cold showers, creatures under my bed, bunk beds, and communal living. Also, getting carsick within 15 minutes of a six-hour car ride sucks, the ridiculously slow service and being constantly dirty sucks. And this year will open up a whole new wealth of uneasiness and irritation. During my first week in Gulu I will be living at the main house in the city center, where I will inevitably be spoiled with electricity (for the most part), running water (for the most part), decent food, access to the internet, and well… bars. But after that first week all those beautiful wonderful resources will disappear and I’ll be moving to an IDP camp about two hours outside of the city. The camp offers no electricity (that is right- NO ELECTRICITY), no running water, and no resources of any kind. It will just be myself and two other female teachers. So… let the discomfort begin ☺. With all the potential discomforts I still find traveling to Gulu to be an incredibly joyful experience. I find joy in the small things, things that would be overlooked in the states, big beers on a hot humid African night, impromptu dance parties, the serenity of relaxing under a mango tree, and friendly warm smiles. But most off all having the ability and opportunity to have conversations with like-minded educators (both Acholi and American) is a one of the greatest joys. It takes a certain type of person to give up their summer to work in a developing country. Although many of the people I have met in Uganda (both last year and this year) come from very diverse backgrounds there continues to be one constant- we all genuinely believe in education as a catalyst for change. We believe in what we do. This summer I will cry, get frustrated, annoyed, sick, lonely, bored, sad, and want to go home but all those emotions and feelings combined will pale in comparison to the amount of joy I will find.
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