The most T.I.A. moment of the trip so far happened last night when a few of us got on our taxibus to go to our respective homestays. We settle in and suddenly one of the girls in our group yells "Oh my God there's a chicken under me!" Yeah... So someone had stored their (live) dinner under her seat, and the poor chicken, with its feet tied, had fallen over right under her feet and was clucking like crazy. T.I.A.
Anyway, the past few days in Kigali have been draining. Yesterday we went to some genocide memorials, which were incredibly moving. First we visited a church in which 5000 people were killed. You walk in and there's a wall full of bones and skulls, some with clearly visible machete marks in them and another with a big nails still stuck in the top of the skull. As you turn around to see the whole church, you realize that it is COVERED in clothes. It's sort of a similar feeling as the place in Auschwitz where all the personal items are stored. Each dress, each piece of fabric, each blood-soaked shirt belonged to someone. I stood in front of this green dress with little white designs on it, and big blood stains, for several minutes. I was trying to imagine this dress on a woman that I could see walking down the street. I also tried to link that dress with a skull. It's so unfathomable to be in a place where 5000 people were killed that all I could do was put one face, one dress, to the whole tragedy in that church.
Apparently, the display as we saw it was quite recent. Before, it had just been left how it was in April 1994 - bodies and items all over the floor. I think that would have just been too much.
Next, we went to another church where 10,000 people had been killed. It wasn't a big place so it was hard to imagine 10,000 people packed into it, but the mounds of clothes all over the seats and floor helped with the realization. It was almost nauseating. At both churches there were still blood stains on the walls, and at the second church the original fabric was still draped over the box-table thing at the front, but it was drenched in blood. It's so unimaginable, but being there was as close as I could get to imagining it.
In the back of the church are some mass graves. You walk underground, as if you're walking into your own grave, and are surrounded by coffins, about 10 feet high, each containing about 20 people's remains. The next mass graves is just bones, from floor to ceiling, far too close for comfort. It was incredibly creepy, but I guess that's the point of having the artifacts displayed like that.
As we drove back to Kigali from the churches, I saw a few people walking along the street with hoes, going to their gardens. Then I saw two men with machetes. I literally gasped. It was such a terrifying feeling.
After lunch we went to the memorial center in the city, which is more of a museum. There are also some mass graves outside that house, wait for it, 258 THOUSAND people who were killed within the city alone. The guide paused after 258, so I started imagining 258 people, which is a number that I can imagine, even though it's big. When she added the thousand to it I almost fell over. It's unimaginable.
The museum is really well done and very moving, although I wasn't able to see all the exhibits because the power went out near the end.
These memorials, although they're difficult, are the reason why I came to Rwanda. I want to get a feel for what happened, but at a more visceral level than I could get through a book or even a documentary.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Bienvenue au Rwanda!
Tonight, we got to Kigali, Rwanda.
The past few days have been crazy. Yesterday we visited a refugee camp in southern Uganda where we spoke to some Rwandese (Rwandan?) refugees. They were eager to tell us their stories. It was particularly interesting because they are the people whose stories are not told, who have been labeled as perpetrators even though many of them have suffered and continue to suffer. The visit were incredible in that they challenged so many of my previously held assumptions - it not only challenged my notion of what a refugee settlement is like (it was pretty much like a small town, with markets and stores - even though half the things around us either had the USA or UNHCR logos on it). The visit also challenged my whole perception of Rwandan society and the genocide. It sort of goes to show that the little we understand of any conflict around the world is so insignificant. All that really matters are the personal stories of those on the ground. Whether or not their facts are right is irrelevant. Whether or not the international community interacts is irrelevant. All that matters is that these people have real scars, real stories, and real family members that they have lost. The fact that the world has labeled "them" as perpetrators borders on the absurd. Even something like a genocide, that we outsiders see as so black and white, is far from being so.
After members of the community shared their stories with us, we had the opportunity to walk around the camp a little with one member of the community and just talk to them. It was pretty interesting. The guy we were with had been in the camp since 2006 and had fled because he was a member of the opposition. He kept saying "this is war." He implied that the regime here would not change peacefully, and that "war" was the only way to change anything. "I'm not going to stay here for ever. It's only a matter of time before things change." It's a scary thought, but what else could he do? I'm not condoning war or violence or anything, but what are his options?
I guess what this visit made me realize is that the broader picture doesn't matter. All that really matters, and all that will really have an impact on world events are stories like this man's - he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in a refugee settlement in Uganda - it's as simple as that. Broader implications don't matter to him. His story matters to him.
We also briefly met a man who told us that he had gone back to Rwanda, and along with 12 members of his family was arrested by the gacaca courts because his parents had been accused of genocide. He was the only one to have survived.
Today we start our Rwandan (Rwandese?) adventure. We drove past the Hotel des Milles Collines (Hotel Rwanda) on our way back from dinner. This is real. I think this place is so scary because I know I've seen every one of these streets on TV, in documentaries, in movies. And I know in what context I've seen these streets.
Tomorrow we start our lectures. I'm excited to delve into this whole thing more, although it remains a very sensitive topic here so it will be interesting to see to what extent we have to tiptoe around the subject with our homestay families. We go to our new homes in a couples of days, where we will stay for two weeks.
I'm excited and nervous. But I can't wait. I've wanted to come to Rwanda for so long and I'm finally here. It's crazy. I fell in love with Uganda so much, I just hope I do the same with Rwanda.
The drive down here was incredible. They call it the Switzerland of Africa, and it really is. It basically looks like Switzerland, but more lush and with banana trees. It's amazing. As we drove through south Uganda, the scenery just got more and more incredible. We had to walk across the border, which was really fricken fun, and our hour and a half drive to Kigali was breathtaking. Google image this place. It's so beautiful.
The past few days have been crazy. Yesterday we visited a refugee camp in southern Uganda where we spoke to some Rwandese (Rwandan?) refugees. They were eager to tell us their stories. It was particularly interesting because they are the people whose stories are not told, who have been labeled as perpetrators even though many of them have suffered and continue to suffer. The visit were incredible in that they challenged so many of my previously held assumptions - it not only challenged my notion of what a refugee settlement is like (it was pretty much like a small town, with markets and stores - even though half the things around us either had the USA or UNHCR logos on it). The visit also challenged my whole perception of Rwandan society and the genocide. It sort of goes to show that the little we understand of any conflict around the world is so insignificant. All that really matters are the personal stories of those on the ground. Whether or not their facts are right is irrelevant. Whether or not the international community interacts is irrelevant. All that matters is that these people have real scars, real stories, and real family members that they have lost. The fact that the world has labeled "them" as perpetrators borders on the absurd. Even something like a genocide, that we outsiders see as so black and white, is far from being so.
After members of the community shared their stories with us, we had the opportunity to walk around the camp a little with one member of the community and just talk to them. It was pretty interesting. The guy we were with had been in the camp since 2006 and had fled because he was a member of the opposition. He kept saying "this is war." He implied that the regime here would not change peacefully, and that "war" was the only way to change anything. "I'm not going to stay here for ever. It's only a matter of time before things change." It's a scary thought, but what else could he do? I'm not condoning war or violence or anything, but what are his options?
I guess what this visit made me realize is that the broader picture doesn't matter. All that really matters, and all that will really have an impact on world events are stories like this man's - he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in a refugee settlement in Uganda - it's as simple as that. Broader implications don't matter to him. His story matters to him.
We also briefly met a man who told us that he had gone back to Rwanda, and along with 12 members of his family was arrested by the gacaca courts because his parents had been accused of genocide. He was the only one to have survived.
Today we start our Rwandan (Rwandese?) adventure. We drove past the Hotel des Milles Collines (Hotel Rwanda) on our way back from dinner. This is real. I think this place is so scary because I know I've seen every one of these streets on TV, in documentaries, in movies. And I know in what context I've seen these streets.
Tomorrow we start our lectures. I'm excited to delve into this whole thing more, although it remains a very sensitive topic here so it will be interesting to see to what extent we have to tiptoe around the subject with our homestay families. We go to our new homes in a couples of days, where we will stay for two weeks.
I'm excited and nervous. But I can't wait. I've wanted to come to Rwanda for so long and I'm finally here. It's crazy. I fell in love with Uganda so much, I just hope I do the same with Rwanda.
The drive down here was incredible. They call it the Switzerland of Africa, and it really is. It basically looks like Switzerland, but more lush and with banana trees. It's amazing. As we drove through south Uganda, the scenery just got more and more incredible. We had to walk across the border, which was really fricken fun, and our hour and a half drive to Kigali was breathtaking. Google image this place. It's so beautiful.
Friday, June 18, 2010
T.I.A. - This Is Africa
So I'm back in Kampala for a few days before we drive to Rwanda this weekend. I think it's funny how the first time we got to this hotel on the second night here, we were all bummed about how hard and crap the beds were. Turns out, they're pretty spectacular compared to those in Gulu. I was loving a pillow that didn't feel like a rock, last night. But whatever. T.I.A.
There have been so many TIA moments on this trip, I can't even begin to describe it. I will definately post any funny TIA occurences throughout my journey.
Last week we had the homestay party with all the families. There was a lot of dancing, and apparently I'm not too shabby. Some guy even told me "You belong here." Gotta get some birthing hips if you wanna dance like an Acholi.
I also carried 10 liters of water on my head again. I was really getting the hang of it. I still need both hands and get water all over me, but meh, I was trying to prove that I was no weak mzungu! I have some pictures (as well as some of me cooking posho - maize flour stuff) in my kitchen hut. I'll post them when I get home. It's pretty sexy.
So I was sad to leave Gulu, but at the same time there's a little bit of relief that goes with it too. The LRA isn't in Northern Uganda anymore, and hasn't been for the past year or so, but last week there was a rumor they had re-entered the country. The rumour concerned a place 400 km away, and turned out to be false, but it was still pretty scary to think that we could be in a situation like that. What was even scarier is to think how scared we all were, but these people have been living with actual rebel soldiers everywhere for the past 20 years!
I don't know how my homestay dad can still live in that compound, considering that's where he was abducted from when he was a kid. They also showed me where a rebel soldier had been shot - next to my latrine. Not creepy at all. And the bullet hole in my dad's arm and the scars on my brothers legs were a constant reminder that maybe I am a weak mzungu. We in the West are so fricken priviledged to never have had to deal with anythin even remotely on that scale. It's almost sad to think how scared we were about a false rumour.
Also, the cement house I lived on on my compound was built in 2005 because the family used to just live in the huts but the LRA came and threatened to kill them because my homestay dad wouldn't open the door. So they built a cement house with locks. Most of the people still live in the huts in the compound, but the direct family lives behind metal bars.
The main thing that this homestay and my time in Gulu has taught me is to truly put a human face to every forgotten tragedy around the world. My brother Robert and his story are now the face and story of every child soldier around the world. Every heart-wrenching detail. Every scar. He said he used to conduct raids for food over the border with Uganda when he was in South Sudan. He said it was hard to get food in Sudan because everybody had guns, even the kids. When I asked how he got food, then, he replied "With a gun." No need to elaborate. He also said "They love me in Sudan. Whenever a commander told me to do something, I did it right away, and I did it really well." Again. No need to elaborate.
Anyway, one of our final days we got to interview people on the topic of our choice, so I chose to focus on traditional means of reconciliation. So interesting. We went to the office of the paramount chief of Acholiland, and even met one of the 54 chiefs! It was awesome!
I will now end with a revised list of things I will miss and things I will not miss about Gulu.
Things I will miss about Gulu:
- The kids in my compound
- Their contagious laughter and happiness
- Seeing the sun rise over thatched roofs every morning
- People's expressions when I speak Acholi and understand what they say
- Having my name being yelled and finding out it's someone on my compound just wanting to say hi
- Having my own room
- Being called Anita by my 4 year old sister, Lake
- Hearing Lake sing her ABCs over and over again
- Hearing her squeal with delight when she sees her picture on the screen of my camera
- Learning new things everyday
- Having Rebecca teach me how to carry water on my head
- Having random kids walk with me while holding my hand
- Having a family in Uganda
- The positivity of the Acholi people
Thingsa I will not miss about Gulu:
- Katrines
- Flies in the latrines
- Waking up to landime detonations every morning
- Seeing the nasty garbage all over the town
- Not being able to go pee after dark
- Power cuts
- Being scared of the LRA potentially coming back
- Seeing disabled people everywhere and knowing what caused their missing limbs
My computer time is now over.
Peace out.
There have been so many TIA moments on this trip, I can't even begin to describe it. I will definately post any funny TIA occurences throughout my journey.
Last week we had the homestay party with all the families. There was a lot of dancing, and apparently I'm not too shabby. Some guy even told me "You belong here." Gotta get some birthing hips if you wanna dance like an Acholi.
I also carried 10 liters of water on my head again. I was really getting the hang of it. I still need both hands and get water all over me, but meh, I was trying to prove that I was no weak mzungu! I have some pictures (as well as some of me cooking posho - maize flour stuff) in my kitchen hut. I'll post them when I get home. It's pretty sexy.
So I was sad to leave Gulu, but at the same time there's a little bit of relief that goes with it too. The LRA isn't in Northern Uganda anymore, and hasn't been for the past year or so, but last week there was a rumor they had re-entered the country. The rumour concerned a place 400 km away, and turned out to be false, but it was still pretty scary to think that we could be in a situation like that. What was even scarier is to think how scared we all were, but these people have been living with actual rebel soldiers everywhere for the past 20 years!
I don't know how my homestay dad can still live in that compound, considering that's where he was abducted from when he was a kid. They also showed me where a rebel soldier had been shot - next to my latrine. Not creepy at all. And the bullet hole in my dad's arm and the scars on my brothers legs were a constant reminder that maybe I am a weak mzungu. We in the West are so fricken priviledged to never have had to deal with anythin even remotely on that scale. It's almost sad to think how scared we were about a false rumour.
Also, the cement house I lived on on my compound was built in 2005 because the family used to just live in the huts but the LRA came and threatened to kill them because my homestay dad wouldn't open the door. So they built a cement house with locks. Most of the people still live in the huts in the compound, but the direct family lives behind metal bars.
The main thing that this homestay and my time in Gulu has taught me is to truly put a human face to every forgotten tragedy around the world. My brother Robert and his story are now the face and story of every child soldier around the world. Every heart-wrenching detail. Every scar. He said he used to conduct raids for food over the border with Uganda when he was in South Sudan. He said it was hard to get food in Sudan because everybody had guns, even the kids. When I asked how he got food, then, he replied "With a gun." No need to elaborate. He also said "They love me in Sudan. Whenever a commander told me to do something, I did it right away, and I did it really well." Again. No need to elaborate.
Anyway, one of our final days we got to interview people on the topic of our choice, so I chose to focus on traditional means of reconciliation. So interesting. We went to the office of the paramount chief of Acholiland, and even met one of the 54 chiefs! It was awesome!
I will now end with a revised list of things I will miss and things I will not miss about Gulu.
Things I will miss about Gulu:
- The kids in my compound
- Their contagious laughter and happiness
- Seeing the sun rise over thatched roofs every morning
- People's expressions when I speak Acholi and understand what they say
- Having my name being yelled and finding out it's someone on my compound just wanting to say hi
- Having my own room
- Being called Anita by my 4 year old sister, Lake
- Hearing Lake sing her ABCs over and over again
- Hearing her squeal with delight when she sees her picture on the screen of my camera
- Learning new things everyday
- Having Rebecca teach me how to carry water on my head
- Having random kids walk with me while holding my hand
- Having a family in Uganda
- The positivity of the Acholi people
Thingsa I will not miss about Gulu:
- Katrines
- Flies in the latrines
- Waking up to landime detonations every morning
- Seeing the nasty garbage all over the town
- Not being able to go pee after dark
- Power cuts
- Being scared of the LRA potentially coming back
- Seeing disabled people everywhere and knowing what caused their missing limbs
My computer time is now over.
Peace out.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Gulu, The End
Tomorrow we leave Gulu.
It's been real.
I'll post more extensively about my last week here once we get to Kampala and I have more internet time.
I'm going to make a list of things I will miss about Gulu and things I will not miss about Gulu.
Things I will miss about Gulu:
- Walking to and from my compound and having people shout "Alissa" at me and waving
- The kids. Everywhere.
- How the kids have such an amazing time without any toys or outside entertainment.
- How excited people get when they hear me trying to speak Acholi
Things I will not miss about Gulu:
- Pit latrines
- Flies in the pit latrines
- Waking up to landmines being detonated every morning
- Riding on a boda-boda side-saddle on a dirt road
To be continued...
It's been real.
I'll post more extensively about my last week here once we get to Kampala and I have more internet time.
I'm going to make a list of things I will miss about Gulu and things I will not miss about Gulu.
Things I will miss about Gulu:
- Walking to and from my compound and having people shout "Alissa" at me and waving
- The kids. Everywhere.
- How the kids have such an amazing time without any toys or outside entertainment.
- How excited people get when they hear me trying to speak Acholi
Things I will not miss about Gulu:
- Pit latrines
- Flies in the pit latrines
- Waking up to landmines being detonated every morning
- Riding on a boda-boda side-saddle on a dirt road
To be continued...
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Reality
Shit's getting real.
I talked to my homestay brother a little about his experiences in the war the other day on the way to school and wow. It was scary. He didn't say things in too much detail, and I won't say too much on this blog, but it was insane. I was walking on a dirt path with this kid who did unspeakable things. It's scary and heartbreaking all at the same time. Some of the things he said that really hit me were "If you are quiet, they say that you are thinking of your parents, so they kill you. If you smile too much, you are happy, so they kill you."
What world do we live in where a 17 year old kid has lived through that?
He said his mother and all of his siblings had died, and that his father didn't want totake care of him. "God has plans for me." I don't know what he would have to live for if he didn't have that. Even though a lot of this born again stuff over here is creepy to me, I'm happy that he has that.
Most of the last few days have just been really emotional with the whole child soldier realization. It's not something you read in a book anymore. It's not a sad story you see on CNN and forget about an hour later. It's a real person and it's really his life.
On a happier note, last night was the party for all of the homestay families. We were at this hotel called Acholi Inn and had dinner and dancing. I'm apparently not too bad! One person even told me that this is where I belong cause I can move my hips like an African. SCORE! T.I.A. This Is Africa.
And on the fail of the day: The whole "fat is a compliment" thing going on around here... Yeah... I'm over it...
I was sitting at my neighbors and they all start touching their calves and laughing. My homestay mom turns to me and says "your legs are so big and beautiful." Yeah... thanks... The neighbor girl then said that "my legs look like mosquito legs next to you." I'ma a cut you! Nah it's alright but seriously. I need to go back to the land where people don't say what they think!
I also walked to the market the other day with my neighbor and my sister. They said I didn't need tobring anything. So I didn't. Not even water. Little did I know that this market was an hour and a half walk away on a dusty street! Argh! Weak mzungu! We got some tomatos and okra and dried fish for dinner and man was I tired when I got back! They thought this weak mzungu wasreal funny. But meh at least I didn't have togotochurch this morning. "You need your rest." Beats the born again churches some of the kids on the program went to with their families - exorcism!
Will be here until Thursday when we go back to Kampala. Can't wait for a sit down toilet. Having flies crawling on my when I'm going pee in the latrine is getting real old real quick.
Adios!
I talked to my homestay brother a little about his experiences in the war the other day on the way to school and wow. It was scary. He didn't say things in too much detail, and I won't say too much on this blog, but it was insane. I was walking on a dirt path with this kid who did unspeakable things. It's scary and heartbreaking all at the same time. Some of the things he said that really hit me were "If you are quiet, they say that you are thinking of your parents, so they kill you. If you smile too much, you are happy, so they kill you."
What world do we live in where a 17 year old kid has lived through that?
He said his mother and all of his siblings had died, and that his father didn't want totake care of him. "God has plans for me." I don't know what he would have to live for if he didn't have that. Even though a lot of this born again stuff over here is creepy to me, I'm happy that he has that.
Most of the last few days have just been really emotional with the whole child soldier realization. It's not something you read in a book anymore. It's not a sad story you see on CNN and forget about an hour later. It's a real person and it's really his life.
On a happier note, last night was the party for all of the homestay families. We were at this hotel called Acholi Inn and had dinner and dancing. I'm apparently not too bad! One person even told me that this is where I belong cause I can move my hips like an African. SCORE! T.I.A. This Is Africa.
And on the fail of the day: The whole "fat is a compliment" thing going on around here... Yeah... I'm over it...
I was sitting at my neighbors and they all start touching their calves and laughing. My homestay mom turns to me and says "your legs are so big and beautiful." Yeah... thanks... The neighbor girl then said that "my legs look like mosquito legs next to you." I'ma a cut you! Nah it's alright but seriously. I need to go back to the land where people don't say what they think!
I also walked to the market the other day with my neighbor and my sister. They said I didn't need tobring anything. So I didn't. Not even water. Little did I know that this market was an hour and a half walk away on a dusty street! Argh! Weak mzungu! We got some tomatos and okra and dried fish for dinner and man was I tired when I got back! They thought this weak mzungu wasreal funny. But meh at least I didn't have togotochurch this morning. "You need your rest." Beats the born again churches some of the kids on the program went to with their families - exorcism!
Will be here until Thursday when we go back to Kampala. Can't wait for a sit down toilet. Having flies crawling on my when I'm going pee in the latrine is getting real old real quick.
Adios!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
"Under brutality, the best never return"
Gulu is amazing. It's much smaller than Kampala, with a lot of dirt roads, but I love where I live and I like that life is calmer up here. It also blows my mind that every single person here has experienced war first hand. The guns have only been silent in Gulu for one and a half years, but people are pretty optimistic that this time it will last. Most of the town is comprised of NGOs (UNHCR, WHO, World Food Program, Caritas, etc.) but they'll be leaving soon, so I wonder how the town will cope with the decrease in jobs and customers.
My homestay family is perfect - I couldn't have asked for a better experience so far.
My homestay father, Patrick, picked me up at the hotel. We were all pretty scared to meet our families after the first family came with drummers and flowers and ululating all down the street (It was apparently a party at that house until the wee hours haha <3). So Patrick picked me up, and we started talking about the war right away. I was really surprised because we were all a little anxious as to how much our families would want to talk about the war. Well it turns out my dad is a former LRA child soldier, and now works at a rehabilitation center with formerly-abducted child soldiers, and even adopted a few. In fact, two of my host brothers are former child soldiers!
The house is beautiful. It's about 5 km from the center of Gulu, so I take a bota-bota (motorcycle) in the morning and evening to get to my homestead. It's the place my homestay dad has lived forever, where his father and grand-father lived too. We live in a cement house, with a latrine and bath structure in the garden next to the corn fields. There are huts that comprise the rest of the homestead, where some cousins/uncles/random family/clan members live. It's amazing to try to understand the family structure and the dynamics.
In my family there is Patrick, who is the deputy speaker in the government and is currently running for mayor! His wife Grace is a primary school teacher but stays at home now because they have a 1 month old baby, Kristoff. They also have a 4-year old daughter (named either Patience or Jane...). There are two other girls that are probably about 10 and 13. I think the older one may be Patrick's daughter from another woman, and the other girl they adopted (or as my home mother said, she is "training" her). There is also Robert, who has become my Acholi teacher, and Fred, who I never see. There is another boy who looks just like Fred, they must be about the same age, who also lives somewhere on the homestead. I discovered this morning that they are not the same person...
The first night Patrick picked me up at about 5pm and we went to the house. We sat down and he talked to me about Acholi culture until 9pm. It was amazing! He told me all these amazing things (like if you-re born with your first feet first then you're considered a demi-god and should be pampered throughout your life. You're also considered too good to be burried in the ground, so when you die your body is "broken" and put in a pot where it stays in the forest until it decomposes. When only the bones remain, the family puts the pot of bones in the house and leave it there - just like we do with people who are cremated). He talked a little bit about the war. One of his brothers was abducted by the LRA and died in captivity, and one of his sisters was abducted by the government troops during the war and eventually died of AIDS. I hope to talk to him more about the conflict, especially since we have a short paper due on the causes of conflict next week. To research the paper, we need to talk to at least 3 adult members of the community. I think I will try to talk to Patrick, his wife, and his brother who lives in the homestead (and told me he would build me a hut so I can live on the homestead when I marry an Acholi man).
He kept saying how the 20 years of war had decimated Acholi culture. He explained that since over 90% of the Acholi were forced into camps by the government ("for their own protection" hum hum) they lost a lot of their culture. People lost respect for their elders because they saw that they could not protect them. They also lost respect for many witch doctors and old traditions that they saw being ineffective against the guns of the LRA. A lot of traditions were also simply impossible to continue in the camps, due to the horrible conditions. He gave the example of twins, and how they are also considered demi-gods, and whose ambilical cords are supposed to be put in a pot and a shrine is to be made with the pot under a tree. Of course, in the camps, there simply wasn't room. Apparently the huts were so close together even the thatched roofs touched.
Another such tradition that has been abandoned is among the Langi people, who live next to the Acholi but are also classed as "Northerners" and have suffered a lot during the conflict, concerns marriage. Apparently, once you marry a woman, you are never to see her mother face to face. It is a sign of respect/fear of the power she now holds over you. He said if you see your mother-in-law walking you must turn away, even if it means you turn into the bush.
Anyway, so many interesting tid-bits. I'm learning so much.
I made my uncle, Frances, promise to teach me how to kill a chicken, so apparently I'm making dinner this weekend! Aaaah! It will be a good skill to have for the Peace Corps. I'm just hoping I don't react like I did at lunch a couple of days ago in a restaurant. I ordered goat meat. Um yeah. By meat I wasn't really expecting a peace of tied up intestine and tongue/stomach lining (not entirely sure what it was). I've never been so nauseated at something on my plate in my entire life. I felt awful not eating it but I just couldn't. We'll see if taking the intestines out of a chicken I just killed will be any less grosse.
I also ate a fried grasshopper in Kampala. SO GOOD! It sort of just tastes like a chip.
Apparently they eat "white ants" up here, which I'm pretty sure are termites. Termite paste, fried termites. Bring it on! And bush rat! Yay can't wait!
Anyway, I have to go. I told my homestay dad I would be taking the boda-boda back about 40 minutes ago, but instead I'm sitting under a fan with a cold beer. Mmmm. I was supposed to help with dinner today but our classes ended later than planned. Maybe tomorrow.
I'll try to come online again before the end of my stay in Gulu, but the internet is pretty sporatic. Today is the first day it has worked since we got here.
If anyone wants a more personal email, email me first and my gmail account and I'll tru to respond asap.
Love you all!
Gulu is amazing. It's much smaller than Kampala, with a lot of dirt roads, but I love where I live and I like that life is calmer up here. It also blows my mind that every single person here has experienced war first hand. The guns have only been silent in Gulu for one and a half years, but people are pretty optimistic that this time it will last. Most of the town is comprised of NGOs (UNHCR, WHO, World Food Program, Caritas, etc.) but they'll be leaving soon, so I wonder how the town will cope with the decrease in jobs and customers.
My homestay family is perfect - I couldn't have asked for a better experience so far.
My homestay father, Patrick, picked me up at the hotel. We were all pretty scared to meet our families after the first family came with drummers and flowers and ululating all down the street (It was apparently a party at that house until the wee hours haha <3). So Patrick picked me up, and we started talking about the war right away. I was really surprised because we were all a little anxious as to how much our families would want to talk about the war. Well it turns out my dad is a former LRA child soldier, and now works at a rehabilitation center with formerly-abducted child soldiers, and even adopted a few. In fact, two of my host brothers are former child soldiers!
The house is beautiful. It's about 5 km from the center of Gulu, so I take a bota-bota (motorcycle) in the morning and evening to get to my homestead. It's the place my homestay dad has lived forever, where his father and grand-father lived too. We live in a cement house, with a latrine and bath structure in the garden next to the corn fields. There are huts that comprise the rest of the homestead, where some cousins/uncles/random family/clan members live. It's amazing to try to understand the family structure and the dynamics.
In my family there is Patrick, who is the deputy speaker in the government and is currently running for mayor! His wife Grace is a primary school teacher but stays at home now because they have a 1 month old baby, Kristoff. They also have a 4-year old daughter (named either Patience or Jane...). There are two other girls that are probably about 10 and 13. I think the older one may be Patrick's daughter from another woman, and the other girl they adopted (or as my home mother said, she is "training" her). There is also Robert, who has become my Acholi teacher, and Fred, who I never see. There is another boy who looks just like Fred, they must be about the same age, who also lives somewhere on the homestead. I discovered this morning that they are not the same person...
The first night Patrick picked me up at about 5pm and we went to the house. We sat down and he talked to me about Acholi culture until 9pm. It was amazing! He told me all these amazing things (like if you-re born with your first feet first then you're considered a demi-god and should be pampered throughout your life. You're also considered too good to be burried in the ground, so when you die your body is "broken" and put in a pot where it stays in the forest until it decomposes. When only the bones remain, the family puts the pot of bones in the house and leave it there - just like we do with people who are cremated). He talked a little bit about the war. One of his brothers was abducted by the LRA and died in captivity, and one of his sisters was abducted by the government troops during the war and eventually died of AIDS. I hope to talk to him more about the conflict, especially since we have a short paper due on the causes of conflict next week. To research the paper, we need to talk to at least 3 adult members of the community. I think I will try to talk to Patrick, his wife, and his brother who lives in the homestead (and told me he would build me a hut so I can live on the homestead when I marry an Acholi man).
He kept saying how the 20 years of war had decimated Acholi culture. He explained that since over 90% of the Acholi were forced into camps by the government ("for their own protection" hum hum) they lost a lot of their culture. People lost respect for their elders because they saw that they could not protect them. They also lost respect for many witch doctors and old traditions that they saw being ineffective against the guns of the LRA. A lot of traditions were also simply impossible to continue in the camps, due to the horrible conditions. He gave the example of twins, and how they are also considered demi-gods, and whose ambilical cords are supposed to be put in a pot and a shrine is to be made with the pot under a tree. Of course, in the camps, there simply wasn't room. Apparently the huts were so close together even the thatched roofs touched.
Another such tradition that has been abandoned is among the Langi people, who live next to the Acholi but are also classed as "Northerners" and have suffered a lot during the conflict, concerns marriage. Apparently, once you marry a woman, you are never to see her mother face to face. It is a sign of respect/fear of the power she now holds over you. He said if you see your mother-in-law walking you must turn away, even if it means you turn into the bush.
Anyway, so many interesting tid-bits. I'm learning so much.
I made my uncle, Frances, promise to teach me how to kill a chicken, so apparently I'm making dinner this weekend! Aaaah! It will be a good skill to have for the Peace Corps. I'm just hoping I don't react like I did at lunch a couple of days ago in a restaurant. I ordered goat meat. Um yeah. By meat I wasn't really expecting a peace of tied up intestine and tongue/stomach lining (not entirely sure what it was). I've never been so nauseated at something on my plate in my entire life. I felt awful not eating it but I just couldn't. We'll see if taking the intestines out of a chicken I just killed will be any less grosse.
I also ate a fried grasshopper in Kampala. SO GOOD! It sort of just tastes like a chip.
Apparently they eat "white ants" up here, which I'm pretty sure are termites. Termite paste, fried termites. Bring it on! And bush rat! Yay can't wait!
Anyway, I have to go. I told my homestay dad I would be taking the boda-boda back about 40 minutes ago, but instead I'm sitting under a fan with a cold beer. Mmmm. I was supposed to help with dinner today but our classes ended later than planned. Maybe tomorrow.
I'll try to come online again before the end of my stay in Gulu, but the internet is pretty sporatic. Today is the first day it has worked since we got here.
If anyone wants a more personal email, email me first and my gmail account and I'll tru to respond asap.
Love you all!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Week 1
"When two elephants fight, it's the grass that gets injured." - African proverb
Yesterday we had our first real day of "school." We were in the forestry room at Makerere University (yeah trees!) in a room next to the office of the head of the forestry exports, Prof. Banana (yes). We first had a lecture from a professor at the university in the history of Uganda, which was interesting. The highlight though had to be his SHORT-SLEEVED suit. Best thing I ever saw!
Then we had a lecture about constitutionalism from the deputy spokesperson of the Buganda Kingdom who just had a presence about him. It's like you couldn't not listen and just respect what he was saying. He was a big critic of the government and apparently had been imprisoned and tortured last year. Crazy. But it was really interesting to hear what he had to say. Finally, we watched a documentary about the war in the North called "Uganda Rising" - watch it if you can. It was incredibly moving. It sort of hit home that this is what we're studying. These are the people we're going to meet in Gulu.
One of the hardest seens in the movie is when they interview a woman whos ears and lips were cut off by the LRA. Although I've read about that in some books, actually seeing her was heartbreaking... How do you even make people commit acts like that... It's terrifying, heartbreaking, disgusting, and so many other emotions, all at the same time...
Other than that, the first few days in Kampala have been really good. We had a cool assignment the other day where we were put in pairs and were given a topic and just had to go into the city and find out as much about it was we could. Matt and I were given "The Media" so we went around talking to newspaper sellers, we went to a radio station, and talked to a TV store business owner. It was really fun just being on our own to explore and get lost.
The food has been pretty good. My favorite is matoke, which is mashed plantains. You basically get a starch - rice, matoke, sweet potatos, etc, and then add a sauce, which could also include a meat or fish. I really like it so far.
Still have a sinus infection and my tonsils hurt like a mofo, but hopefully it'll go away soon. Pink eye is slowly leaving my body too. Victory!
Anyway, we're about to get on a bus to Gulu. I'm so excited to meet my homestay family and to spend time in the North. It'll be interesting to see the contrast between te South and the North since it's supposed be crazy. Also, Gulu is a town of about 200,000, whereas Kampala has 2.5 million. I'm really excited!
I can't believe it's the end of the first week.
I love Africa.
Yesterday we had our first real day of "school." We were in the forestry room at Makerere University (yeah trees!) in a room next to the office of the head of the forestry exports, Prof. Banana (yes). We first had a lecture from a professor at the university in the history of Uganda, which was interesting. The highlight though had to be his SHORT-SLEEVED suit. Best thing I ever saw!
Then we had a lecture about constitutionalism from the deputy spokesperson of the Buganda Kingdom who just had a presence about him. It's like you couldn't not listen and just respect what he was saying. He was a big critic of the government and apparently had been imprisoned and tortured last year. Crazy. But it was really interesting to hear what he had to say. Finally, we watched a documentary about the war in the North called "Uganda Rising" - watch it if you can. It was incredibly moving. It sort of hit home that this is what we're studying. These are the people we're going to meet in Gulu.
One of the hardest seens in the movie is when they interview a woman whos ears and lips were cut off by the LRA. Although I've read about that in some books, actually seeing her was heartbreaking... How do you even make people commit acts like that... It's terrifying, heartbreaking, disgusting, and so many other emotions, all at the same time...
Other than that, the first few days in Kampala have been really good. We had a cool assignment the other day where we were put in pairs and were given a topic and just had to go into the city and find out as much about it was we could. Matt and I were given "The Media" so we went around talking to newspaper sellers, we went to a radio station, and talked to a TV store business owner. It was really fun just being on our own to explore and get lost.
The food has been pretty good. My favorite is matoke, which is mashed plantains. You basically get a starch - rice, matoke, sweet potatos, etc, and then add a sauce, which could also include a meat or fish. I really like it so far.
Still have a sinus infection and my tonsils hurt like a mofo, but hopefully it'll go away soon. Pink eye is slowly leaving my body too. Victory!
Anyway, we're about to get on a bus to Gulu. I'm so excited to meet my homestay family and to spend time in the North. It'll be interesting to see the contrast between te South and the North since it's supposed be crazy. Also, Gulu is a town of about 200,000, whereas Kampala has 2.5 million. I'm really excited!
I can't believe it's the end of the first week.
I love Africa.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
First day in Uganda!
Got to Entebbe last night. Uneventful flight. Met up with a couple of other girls from the program and we went to a hotel. Nice hotel until I woke up in the middle of the night with PINK EYE. Yes. I have to be the unluckiest person in the world. Conjunctivitis! Luckily I had some prescription eye drops that I bought before leaving, so it's going away. But ew.
Got picked up at our hotel this morning and met up with other people from the group at our hotel in Kampala that will be our home for the next few days. Exciting! Not everyone is here yet but it seems like a pretty chill group. Still waiting on a few more people that should be arriving later on today, but so far so good!
We'll be staying in Kampala for the next few days, and on Sunday going up to Gulu for our homestays for 10 days-ish. I can't wait to meet my Ugandan family! We'll also find out our detailed itinerary tonight. I can't wait1 I'm so excited for this to truly begin!
I can't wait to discover Uganda, learn some of the language, meet some of the people, and truly experience this.
The traffic in Kampala is crazy. I love it.
Rumor has it we may get to slaughter some chickens in the north. Get excited. Knowing my luck it'll probably attack me. Or give me pink eye. Meh. Gotta toughen me up a little.
Hope everyone else's adventures are going well!
Got picked up at our hotel this morning and met up with other people from the group at our hotel in Kampala that will be our home for the next few days. Exciting! Not everyone is here yet but it seems like a pretty chill group. Still waiting on a few more people that should be arriving later on today, but so far so good!
We'll be staying in Kampala for the next few days, and on Sunday going up to Gulu for our homestays for 10 days-ish. I can't wait to meet my Ugandan family! We'll also find out our detailed itinerary tonight. I can't wait1 I'm so excited for this to truly begin!
I can't wait to discover Uganda, learn some of the language, meet some of the people, and truly experience this.
The traffic in Kampala is crazy. I love it.
Rumor has it we may get to slaughter some chickens in the north. Get excited. Knowing my luck it'll probably attack me. Or give me pink eye. Meh. Gotta toughen me up a little.
Hope everyone else's adventures are going well!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
J -1
"You leave your home secure in your knowledge and identity. But as you travel, the world in all its richness intervenes." - Kent Nerburn
Tomorrow is my big departure. By tomorrow I mean it's already 3am and I'm still putting the finishing touches on my backpack, while getting my last minute fill of tomatoes, and asking myself why I am incapable of a) packing light and b) getting my crap done before the absolute last minute.
I know I haven't been able to see many people while I've been back. It's been crazy trying to get everything organized in such a short period of time, and trying to coordinate everyone's schedules. Sorry to anyone I may have missed, but I'll be back soon enough. You won't even realize I was away :)
I can't believe that this time tomorrow I'll be in Uganda!
What is my life. This is crazy. Uganda. Rwanda. India. Nepal.
Pinch me.
Tomorrow is my big departure. By tomorrow I mean it's already 3am and I'm still putting the finishing touches on my backpack, while getting my last minute fill of tomatoes, and asking myself why I am incapable of a) packing light and b) getting my crap done before the absolute last minute.
I know I haven't been able to see many people while I've been back. It's been crazy trying to get everything organized in such a short period of time, and trying to coordinate everyone's schedules. Sorry to anyone I may have missed, but I'll be back soon enough. You won't even realize I was away :)
I can't believe that this time tomorrow I'll be in Uganda!
What is my life. This is crazy. Uganda. Rwanda. India. Nepal.
Pinch me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
