I have moved to a new flat in Kampala. A new flat and new neighborhood on the opposite side of town. I have to say it is a nice switch, though I do miss Kasubi, “the village”, from time to time. Some would say I’ve “upgraded”, though looking at the outside of our complex sometimes makes me feel like I’m in an episode of The Wire, or living in some of the Soviet housing imposed by Khrushchev (though these flats are shorter). I’m still waiting for Bubbles to walk up to me one of these days and say something to me while twitching. Hasn’t happened yet.
Bugolobi is a “nicer” area of town. I have to say I am still overly excited about the fact that there’s grass here (no grass in Kasubi) which translates into less dust, the roads are better, it is more conveniently located for me which means I have to take transport a bit less BUT the boda drivers here are stubborn and often overcharge quite a bit (though I’m breaking some of them in), and there are a ton of Maribu storks, my favorite bird recently re-named as the trashodactyl because they eat trash and kind of look like a pterodactyl. They follow closely behind me every time I take our garbage out to the dump and one of these days there may be a scuffle. I have yet to determine who I think might win.
There is a nice restaurant/bar/art gallery place within walking distance of my new home which I am kind of obsessed with. My wireless modem works like a dream (ok, pages load most of the time) from there, the food is quite good and the staff is nice. There is one waiter who thinks I’m weird because I don’t put sugar in my coffee (he asked if I was sick, as in diabetic) and laughs every time he hears me spelling something in Luganda or the name of a Ugandan town even though I’m generally right (this happens more than you would think…me spelling these things out for people).
The flat itself is nice. It’s newly redone on the inside, has two toilet rooms, a bathroom with a bath tub which is just brilliant (I bought bubble bath before buying a broom), a laundry room (also brilliant), a nice kitchen with tons of cabinet space, a dining room (next big purchase…..table and chairs), a HUGE living room with one wall that is all window that opens up into an enclosed porch of sorts, and three bedrooms. OH! How could I forget?! The bedrooms have closets! This is the first place I have lived in Uganda that has closets and I’m possibly waaaaay too happy about this but it makes my mild OCD a bit easier to deal with. Downside….the thing that disturbs my OCD, is the walls are made of cement. I can’t get anything into them. I have masonry nails and everything and it just dulls them down and sometimes leave a big hunk in the wall. I tried to bring my drill with masonry bits back from the US but it wouldn’t fit in my suitcase and I had already sacrificed my dancing hip-hop frog that sings 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” and dances on two trips back to UG so this time it was him or the drill and I chose the dancing frog with lots of bling. I have to say, the frog makes me happy on a daily basis. But power tools bring a lot of joy to my life as well. Hmmmm. Dad, any suggestions? But all in all it is pretty fantastic. I will get my Russian Orthodox icons and Molly Murphy paintings and pen and inks up in no time. No time at all.
Once everything has its place and my walls are covered with beautiful batiks, prints, paintings, icons and Obama kangas I will take some photos and post them. Promise.
I have to say, staying in Kasubi was good for sure. I felt like I was actually in Uganda. Now I’m half in half out…experiencing mild culture shock. It’s good that I now know I could never live in one of the “fancy” neighborhoods like Kololo (where a lot of ambassadors live) because I will likely never be able to afford that kind of bougie lifestyle and the village seemed to have helped me not desire it. Good, good.
]]>I have decided to try to start writing more. I find it therapeutic. Not that I need a dose of therapy (it is arguable) but most people do and don’t realize or admit it. I’m an admitter. I admit that I have my prejudices, I admit that I can be quite paradoxical at times, I admit that it is absolutely difficult at times to practice what you preach, etc. So here I am. At this moment (these feelings could change in the next moment), I feel I should write more and be content if my writings do not reach short story (let’s be honest, I’m truly thinking novel) length. This is OK. I am telling myself that this is OK.
It is also OK if what I write means nothing. Writing a long or short entry about absolutely nothing, or about myriad random things is absolutely OK.
Here we go.
I live in Uganda. Pedestrians do not have the right of way or anything remotely resembling the right of way in this country. Generally speaking, in my mind, I am always in the right and therefore have the right of way. Tonight while walking home from a neighborhood restaurant/bar (I may have had some wine…)I decided that my one and only response to those cars which were coming painfully close to my space on the road in this seemingly christian country would be to yell, “I will haunt you!” whilst shaking my finger at them, or simply pointing like my father used to do when he caught me driving under age.
Another random thing striking me today (I am realizing it has been long since I commented publicly on the amusing, and sometimes seriously annoying, idiosyncrasies of this country, or the people within. If I had 500 shillings for every time I heard something such as, “mzungu, why you no love me no more?!” I would be less broke than I am right now. AND I have decided to, along with my friend, most of which I have not informed of this project yet, compile a record of text messages and random facebook and myspace messages from random and sometimes not-so-random people here because they are awesome. An example from this guy Franklyn who “luvs” this mzungu….. “How r u? Am kul. Cald u fone it was off maybe u were in states! Whats nu? Am dyin 2cu again!”. Though my favorite will always be…. “mzungu, why you no love me no more”. That may have to be the title of the book that eventually comes out of my compilation. Actually, I think it has just been decided that yes, yes that will be the title. In fact, it may work its way into the title of this particular blog posting.
OK, that’s enough of the random Kate thoughts for one day.
]]>Hello everyone and Happy International Women's Day! A day that is not on most calendars unless you've written it in yourself, and a day that is largely forgotten, overlooked, not celebrated. Well, I'm celebrating from the purple folding chair which sits in front of my red desk in Bugolobi, my new home in Kampala, Uganda. I'm feeling quite liberated sitting atop my purple, plastic throne. In fact, as I was scrolling through my massive list of email contacts, I kept coming across names of Women who absolutely amaze me, which to me is the point of International Women's Day. It is a time to think about my life as a Woman, the life of the Women in my life, those I admire across the globe fighting for their rights in their context, those from the past who sacrificed everything, even their lives, to get me as a Woman where I am today.
My mother is a feminist. Always has been. She's an inspiration to me, a take-no-shit (pardon my French) kind of woman. A woman who does for herself. I feel I have taken after her in that kind of way, though it's been much easier for me. Being a Woman and wanting to move from Kansas to Uganda would have been unheard of when she was my age. In fact, I try to remind myself as often as possible of her story of dreaming of being a marine biologist but her father would not let her go to college in an area where that was possible so she went to Stephen's College in nearby Columbia, Missouri, a private all-Women's college at that time fighting to break the image of being a "finishing school". This is where I spent my disappointment of a freshman year of college.3 February-8 February 2009
I feel that my last several blogs have started with, “It has been long since I’ve written…” or something to that effect. Perhaps I should just start saying, “Hello! I am still alive and well in Uganda!” or something like that? Hmmmmm. So yes, it has been long and I am still alive and well in Uganda, though I took a five week hiatus in the U.S., Kansas and New York more specifically. Why have I been so quiet you ask? Well, I’ve been busy and then unmotivated, followed by busy and followed again by unmotivated and well you get the point, no? To catch you all up to speed more or less I have been plugging away at Awava and the Awava Foundation, applying for grants, recruiting volunteers, setting up various avenues for sales, designing product, applying for grants, etc., working here and there on my dissertation (but more often laying awake all night thinking about how I need to work on it), drinking (like I said, I was in Kansas and New York for five weeks), readjusting to life in the U.S. just in time to come back to Uganda and have to readjust to life here, helping my friend Sarah who I forced back to Uganda with me adjust to life in Uganda, and now we are here! Today. I can start with this week I think, unfortunately leaving out small, amusing details of the weeks and months before that while sitting and thinking without any way to record them, have forgotten. Sorry.
On Sunday I traveled to Gulu for the first time since October. It had been far too long. My intention was to make it here before going back to the US for the holidays but that didn’t happen. At the last minute, I had to call the tailors and the women making the recycled paper bead necklaces and ask if they could send them on the bus to Kampala. So Sunday was my “homecoming” in a way. Lucy pretended to cane me for “escaping” to the U.S. but stopped when I told her I had brought her some Nutella for our chapatti, Nutella, banana happiness, a concoction I invented shortly after my move to Uganda (this culinary delight is perhaps remembered by those on my Fair Trade trip as chapatti, Blue Band, raw sugar and banana happiness, but now has what I refer to as the capital city upgrade).
But let me rewind…..Sunday, Ryan, Sarah and I reached the bus park in Kampala around 11am to head to Gulu. For Sarah and Ryan this was their first time, and what a first time it was. Those of you who have been reading my blog for some time must remember some of my stories of previous travels to Gulu from being grabbed and yelled at by every other person in the bus park, many pulling you trying to get you to fill a seat on their bus while others try to guess where you are going, always guessing places like Fort Portal, Queen Elizabeth National Park, Mbarara and other touristy places but never Gulu; others mob you trying to “help” you to carry your things only to ask for money once you reach the bus and what you give is never enough…..Well, Sarah and Ryan got to experience this multiplied by 100. When I travel to Gulu I often only carry as many things as I can take myself and I take a boda to the bus park. This time, since I was with extra hands, I took lots and lots and lots of things: wax print fabrics for Lucy and for Awava, foam stuffing for products, elastic, solid liner fabrics, etc. We had tons of bulky, heavy things. I was willing to pay for the carrying of the anvil-laden suitcase, but the rest was up to us!
We reach the bus to Gulu and the muyaye (cheats) tried to charge me 20,000UGX to put my luggage in the boot! I talked them down to 5K which was more than enough and boarded the bus. Sarah and I lucked out because the bus was so full that we got to sit in the conductors’ seats giving us loads of extra leg room. This did, however, leave us vulnerable to more stares. Every time I woke up from a doze one of the conductors was staring at me, sometimes my face, sometimes my chest…..
On the way, the bus stopped several times, as always, to buy street food in various trading centers. I bought Sarah some gonga (grilled banana, not marijuana) to try. Yum!
We reached Gulu around 5pm and were filthy and hungry. We reached Bora Bora, my favorite place to stay in Gulu, and I was informed that Francis, the manager for years, had left! I was sooooo sad. I had tried to call his phone a few times during the bus ride but it was switched off. We washed up a bit and headed to Bomah, one of the local hotel/restaurants with “Western” cuisine. I’ve made quite a few Ugandan friends in Gulu over the last year and a half and hadn’t seen one of my favorites, Jacob, in a few months. Jacob is the manager of Bomah and is constantly smiling and giggling. We received the biggest welcome from him when he saw me walk in! It was truly good to be back.
We were all exhausted from the journey and had full bellies so called it an early night, for we had to be up by 7am the next day to conquer the mountain of work we were to accomplish in such a short period of time.
Monday we hit the ground running. We had a nice planning breakfast at Kope Café and then went to the market to hang out with the tailors, pick up finished product and place the new order! After lunch a laid back lunch of maloquang, simsim paste and cassava, we headed to Unyama IDP camp to conduct livelihoods assessments with the tailors which I am studying for my dissertation and who Lucy also employs. The interviews didn’t take nearly as long to conduct as I expected and were actually pretty fun seeing as we were all laughing at my attempts at Acholi (I am getting much better).
We headed back into town where Sarah and I met with Richard, the man who organized the paper bead women’s group, Konye Keni which in Acholi means “you help yourself through yourself”. We were going to be doing baseline interviews with this group the next day and wanted to go over the interview guides with Richard so we could plan the best method for translation, etc.
Following our meeting, Sarah and I returned to Bora Bora, showered and went for a beer with Ryan at Havana Pub to celebrate Sarah’s Half Birthday (she’s such a Leo). While their beers were ice cold, mine was hot and considering that I really don’t like beer much in the first place, I drank about 4 sips and then just sat there. All I really wanted to do was organize stuff for the next day and pass out!
My days in Gulu are typically exhausting because 1) it’s quite hot there especially during the dry season which is now; and 2) I spend my days running around doing a billion things trying to maximize on the short time periods while I’m there. So yes, computer work and bed were calling me!
Tuesday Ryan was traveling back to Kampala so we loaded him down with product to mule back the night before. Sarah and I slept in until 8am (yay!) and had rolex and coffee and an orange for breakfast at Bora Boar. For Christmas my sister’s family gave me quite possibly the coolest and most useful thing in the world, a travel French press! It’s kind of amazing. It looks like a travel mug but one of the tops has a coffee press built in! I am a bit coffee obsessed as any of you who know me personally know, and outside of Kampala you only get instant coffee which I think is an abomination of the coffee bean. In fact, I’m partly convinced that it doesn’t contain a single trace of anything remotely resembling any part of a coffee tree. But I digress…so I got this fabulous gift that I had yet to use, I took my own ground coffee so all I had to ask for was hot water! Brilliant! Megan, you guys saved my life.
After breakfast, I showed Sarah how to deposit money for the tailors, we went and visited the tailors and then headed out to Bobi IDP camp to conduct the rest of my livelihood assessments with the tailors there! This process also went by quickly and before I knew it we were in the back of a very full farm truck on our way back to Gulu town. Sun burnt, filthy and exhausted, Sarah and I returned to Bora Bora just in time for our 2 o’clock meeting with the ladies of Konye Keni!
Despite the language barrier, we had tons of fun with these ladies who also enjoyed laughing at me and my Acholi speaking. We took photos, they tried to teach Sarah how to roll the paper beads (she and I are at similar skill levels) and we learned about the Women’s lives. We also bought all of the necklaces they had and the following day met with Florence, the unofficial leader of the group, to place a new order and go over design.
While I had been sad that Francis, the old Bora Bora manager was gone, the new management was Ethiopian and it turns out no offers Ethiopian food! Ethiopian is one of my favorites so we asked the woman if we could have whatever they had for dinner. We were served one of my favorite dishes, Kir Kwot with injira! It was delicious and only 5K! Excellent.
Wednesday, our last full day in Gulu, was much more laid back. Sarah and I slept in again, had our meeting with Florence, stopped by and greeted the tailors and then headed to Bomah to do lots of computer work. We went back to the market around 4pm for what I like to call, “chapatti, Nutella, banana happiness”, a delicious concoction which I invented when I first moved here which is a chapatti with a layer of Nutella on top, a banana in the middle and then rolled like a burrito. BEST THING EVER! And the tailors, Lucy in particular, are obsessed with it!
Sarah and I headed back to Bora Bora and sundown excited about our Ethiopian dinner that was just a few hours ahead. I showered and put lotion on my sun burn and then lay on the bed thinking, decompressing and looking forward to the food we were soon to be served.
Just like the night before, our meal was delicious. I cannot recall the name of the dish but had had it many times before and it was another one of my favorites! This time it was only 3K! Seriously, you cannot beat that.
Sarah and I decided to go have one beer (this time mine was cold and thus more drinkable) at Havana Pub and then pack up and rest early for we were leaving for the bus at 6am! We sat at Havana Pub reflecting on the past few days, Sarah’s opinions of Gulu and the Women, etc. All in all things were good! We accomplished a lot and made space for a lot more future growth. Fantastic!
We arrived at the Post Bus at 6:30am. The bus was to depart at 7am which means we left at 7:45, but not before the nun at the front prayed that should we crash that our bus would be covered by the blood of Jesus Christ. Sarah looked at me wide-eyed and said, “is this really happening” and I replied “yes, this is normal”. The bus departed and we were headed for Kampala.
I was passed out in true Kate form (i.e. mouth half open and slamming my head against the window with every bump) for the majority of the ride home. I would periodically wake up when the bus stopped to see if there were any samosas or chapatti available.
We made it safe and sound to Kampala, me with only a minor concussion. We exited the bus, grabbed our bags from the book and walked tiredly and grungily down Kampala road in an effort to find lunch.
I have not written in quite some time because I have simply been too busy. So much AMAZING stuff has been happening and it just kills me that I haven’t been updating my readers! This blog entry is going to be more of a small (or maybe not so small) novel. I am sorry, but I promise to make it as interesting as my left brain will allow! It is the left brain, isn’t it?
The last time I wrote I was in Gulu working diligently to set up as much as possible for the One Mango Tree grant project. I believe the last blog entry said something like, “tomorrow I am finally going to Lucy’s home”. I am so disappointed in myself for not promptly writing about that experience, for it was one of the best days of my life.
Shaina and I met Lucy at her market stall around 1:30 in the afternoon and grabbed bodas out to Lucy’s home in St. Mauritz’s Parish (about ten minutes outside of Gulu Town). We reached Lucy’s home (Lucy insisting that she pay for all of our bodas) and there were all of these kids around! We walked toward her compound consisting of five traditional round mud huts with thatched straw roofs; one for Lucy, one for her father, one for her mother and the kitchen and two for all of the kids.
The dirt walkways between the houses were meticulously swept with small grass patches kept equally as neat. Lucy invited us into her home where she had chairs and two small tables set up. She introduced Shaina and I to her father, Saverio, a tall, thin Acholi man who spoke little English and used crutches to support himself as he walked. We also sat with her orphaned nephew, Walter (who loves physics), and her brother, Marco Polo (seriously, that is his name), who is a very energetic school teacher. Lucy left us to these three generations of men and disappeared with a mischievous smile upon her face.
A while later, Lucy reappeared with a huge tray full of food: beef stew, boiled and spiced cabbage, posho, matooke and a bunch of fresh bananas from a tree in her yard. Until a few days ago I had thought that Lucy prepared this delicious meal, but she corrected me. Apparently three of the boys prepare the meals daily, which pleasantly defies the cultural norms (worldwide, I think). Lucy is the one who comes home from work every night and says, “where’s my dinner”?!
After our delicious meal, Lucy and Marco Polo (still love it) showed us around the property. We saw her garden where she grows maize, potatoes and greens, her mango and banana trees, the grave of her brother who was killed by the Lord’s Resistance Army on the compound, where the children had been playing with chalk on the cement tomb; and all of the houses. We also met the rest of this huge family, including her mother, Poline, who had clearly suffered a stroke or two and was suffering from dementia. Her mother, we were told, spent her days sitting outside her hut on a mat, kept company by an adorable cat which clearly only trusted her (or it was simply afraid of mzungus).
Shaina and I had everyone gather together (around Poline) for some family portraits (which I made prints of for the family in Kampala).
After a wonderful visit, Shaina, Lucy and I headed back to the market in Gulu Town (this time I insisted on paying for the bodas).
The next morning I packed my things and boarded the bus to Kampala, missing Gulu more and more with each passing kilometer.
I got to Kampala in the afternoon on Sunday July 13 and immediately started scheduling meetings and setting plans for getting a million things done before returning to Gulu on the 27th. I finished my master’s dissertation proposal, defended it and submitted the final copy; spent time with Roxanne, Katie, Ted and Lisa (all friends visiting separately); worked a waitressing shift at La Fontaine; visited a great friend (family really) at Luzira prison (loooooong story); bought almost 200 yards of wax print fabric, 10 bolts of liner fabric, 12 sewing machines with tables, 22 pair of scissors, 22 packets of machine needles and hand sewing needles, 22 rules, 22 measuring tapes, notebooks, pens, etc.; sold One Mango Tree products to US Embassy employees (and friends); met with a potential wholesale person; had my cats spayed and vaccinated and de-wormed; made a million excel sheets and visited the Ngenda International Academy of Art and Design (NIAAD) site to get updated photos for the website. OH! I also picked up Paul, an American who has lived in Japan for 12 years, at the airport. Paul found out about One Mango Tree through my friend Emily who has lived in Japan for the past two years. Paul was intrigued and was traveling so decided to come to Uganda and check out the project first hand!
Paul has experienced things which many Americans never do, even many who come to Uganda. My friend Meredith has been working for this seriously poor school for kids from one of the worst slums in Kampala, Kivulu, and Paul visited the school and the slum. That experience has had a profound effect on him. He has also traveled to Gulu with me, gone into the camps and is now in Arua (a town bordering Sudan and D.R. Congo) visiting a refugee camp. He is NEVER going to be the same after all of this.
After doing all of these things in Kampala, it was time to head to Gulu with all of the wonderful things I had purchased! Now, I have never taken a private vehicle to Gulu before because it is so expensive, but after doing a comprehensive cost assessment, it turned out that buying the materials in Kampala and hiring a van to drive them and me (and Paul) to Gulu would be significantly less expensive than buying everything in Gulu. Everything in Gulu comes from Kampala but the prices are higher due to transport costs.
So how do I even begin to talk about my trip to Gulu. Paul, the driver, picked me up, with Paul (the American from Japan, we’ll call him Paul #2) at 5am. I had slept for two hours the night before because I had SO many things to do. Obviously I remembered to bring my pillow along. I managed to stay awake for the first hour of the trip, mainly because Paul #2 kept talking to me. He realized I was about to die and let me go to sleep. So I slept and slept, periodically waking up for large speed bumps and the like. At one point I woke up because the van had stopped. At first I figured we were stopping to pee or get food and started to lay my head back down but then I smelled burning. I opened my groggy eyes and saw smoke. “OK”, I thought, “this is not good”. I was reassured that it was a simple problem, the battery was dry and needed distilled water so Paul #1 jumped in a matatu to the next trading center to get distilled water. He returned, poured water in and nothing. Then Paul #1 and the mechanic he brought back with him raised the driver’s and passenger’s seats (the engine was under) and more smoke came out. Ah, the engine overheated. This was all stuff I found out much later because any time I asked what was happening they ignored me. Obviously it is a waste of time to tell a Women, especially a white one, what is wrong with the car. So…I sat at the end of the van, bored, and Paul #2 approached me with a high-performance Frisbee. Excellent. We threw the Frisbee around for a while, catching the attention of all of the local passersby. Paul would throw the Frisbee to them, and they would throw it back, sometimes successfully, sometimes not so much. It was good!
All anyone would tell me about the van was that it was overheated and just needed to cool. Two hours later several men (we had gathered quite a crowd) started pushing the van back and then into a nearby driveway. “OK”, I thought again, “this is not good”.
I kept trying to ask questions and kept getting ignored, so finally I made my way in and looked at the engine which they were taking apart (this is obviously more than overheating) and said, “this does not look good. It looks like the head gasket is cracked”. Everyone stopped what they were doing and just looked at me like, “how in the hell does she know that?!” This is where I started gaining mad respect in the village just before Karuma Falls. Paul #2 had disappeared, not telling me where he was going. I was trying to organize a second ride for Paul #2 and I to Gulu town. Paul #1 had assured me that the van would be fixed by morning, he could drive the materials into Gulu Town, help us take them to the camps and then go back to Kampala, SO I wanted to find a car. We are working on the car, and find that there is one 30 minutes away that can take us to town when Paul #2 comes back with about 20 children and 4 men in tow. It seems Paul #2 went to find the Local Council (LC) chairman to get us a truck to move the machines and take us into town and to hire a guard to watch the van. This resulted in a mess. Paul #2 was trying to help, but was unfamiliar with the culture and this was all my responsibility and he had gone over my head. I hadn’t eaten all day, was sleep deprived and hot, so obviously I was less than pleased. Because no one would talk to me about anything the head gasket got blown (at first we were just overheating but the “mechanic” poured water in the engine and then started the engine which even I know is WRONG and will blow the gasket), then we end up with this huge truck to take Paul #2 and I into town which is much more expensive than a car when all we needed was a car (during my price negotiations I said, “why should I pay so much more because this truck uses more fuel when a) I never asked for the truck, I asked for a car, and b) you’re sitting here arguing over price because fuel is expensive and you’re engine is running?!). I got them to lower the price by 40,000 shillings. The only reason I agreed to this was because it was late and there weren’t any buses that seemed to be running by and I had to get out of there. We had been there for about 5 hours and I hadn’t eaten all day.
Paul #2 and I finally make it to Gulu Town, I shower and we meet for dinner at Maq Foods. I get a call from Paul #1 (who had assured me that the van would be fixed by morning) saying that the part they needed was only in Kampala so it would take time and that he had a truck (the same one who had brought us to Gulu Town a few hours before) to load the machines and drive in to Gulu Town. UGH! So now I got to pay this truck TWICE when I could have paid once and had this nightmare over. So, I waited and waited and it took them forever to get to Bora Bora (the place I am staying). They finally arrived at 11pm, we unloaded the merchandise into a spare room, I paid the men again and went to bed, finally.
Monday morning I woke up, went to the market to visit all of the tailors, and then went to Bomah to use their electricity to work on my computer and wait for Julie, the Woman who applied for the grant for us, to arrive.
Julie arrived around 2pm and I told her about the awful day before. We got her checked into her home stay and then we met up and went to greet Lucy and the tailors!
Tuesday was the first really, super productive day, and there has hardly been any downtime since. While I don’t want to bombard you all with too many details, things have been absolutely crazy. We’ve been writing contracts (or MOUs), trying to negotiate and secure a training space in Unyama camp, running around picking up random things and trying to put together some sort of schedule which most of the time seems impossible.
Unyama Camp has been a two-fold problem. We have had three spaces for training fall through, and finally found the perfect space but the landlord was saying that the space was actually 4 un-partitioned rooms which is crazy because there is only one access door. The space is smaller than the one we have in Bobi Camp and twice as much. Stella, the project director from GWED-G, talked the landlord in to letting us have the room for one month at half price which will give us time to find another space but still get the trainings started.
The second problem in Unyama is the ages of the participants. Now, I told GWED-G that the Women needed to be between the ages of 18 and 40. The age requirements were based on Lucy’s decision. Tailoring takes a toll on the body, requiring good eyesight, a strong back, etc. AND the average life expectancy in Uganda is 40. Our goal for this training is to have as many of the Women as possible excel in tailoring so that Lucy can hire them on as One Mango Tree tailors at the end of the three months. The training process will be brutal, for the first month these Women will be training three days a week for four hours and the second and third months they will be training five days a week for four hours each day. There is a strict attendance policy, and it is a lot of hard work. We do not want to waste our grant money and the time of people who may not make it. We also want to ensure that those who do “pass” training (passing will be determined by Lucy) will be with us for a long time so that a) money and time is not wasted and b) this project has a long-lasting impact. When we met with these Women, all of them insisted that they were capable and that they didn’t have daughters at home who could come for the training instead. We suggested the daughters because these Women have been selected as the “most vulnerable” in the camps, yet with their daughters coming, the family as a whole will still benefit economically.
I must say this has been one of the most emotionally draining things I’ve ever had to do. ALL of these Women are so excited to have this opportunity, and truly they are all wonderful, I’m just worried about the long-term.
On Monday the 4th we started moving the sewing machines and tables into Bobi Camp, taking George, Lucy’s machine technician, along for the ride to set up and service all of the machines. George is absolutely wonderful. When we went to find him in the market I realized that he was the tailor who made me some men’s ties to take home for Christmas!
George, Julie, Lucy, Stella and I headed out to Bobi where we started unpacking and assembling the machine tables. Several of the table stands (made of some sort of metal ceramic stuff) were broken as we took them out of the boxes. I had a bad feeling we would encounter similar problems with the tables in Unyama camp. We separated the broken tables and re-packed them while George assembled the two that were fine. George said we could have the tables welded in Gulu Town. Ugh!
Tuesday we headed to Unyama, along with George again, and low and behold, we had more broken tables which we also took back into town to have welded. We have had so many problems with these machines it’s insane. I had purchased two large sewing machines for Lucy with the intension of switching them out for two of her small machines (the large ones sew faster). When I took Lucy to see the machines I had gotten she was very excited, until we got to the wheel for the table (these are all foot treadle machines). The machine people had given us the small wheel for the large machines which will work, but doesn’t make the sewing any faster which was the point in the first place. So…I called Kampala and they said to bring in the parts. So, I had to meet the Post Office Bus at 6:45am and load these things on and send Julie’s sister who was in Kampala to pick up the tables and go to Old Kampala to “exchange” them. First the guy wanted 300,000 extra (Ugandan shillings, not dollars), and with the help of Paul (the driver whose van broke down) we got them down to 200,000. More grant money down the drain. Annie then arrives in Gulu with the machines, George puts the tables together, and they gave us one large wheel and one medium. Lucy said it was fine, but I think she said that because she saw that my head was about to explode.
To further my sewing machine headache, it turns out that the 10 small Singer machines we bought are all cheap Chinese knockoffs. The cord that hooks the wheel to the treadle keeps breaking on lots of them and there are just general problems across the board. I’m going to Old Kampala on the 11th to have a discussion with these guys. I hope they’re prepared for the wrath of Kate. It will likely not be pretty. Part of my anger is at myself. I really should have just had Lucy come to Kampala and go with me to pick out machines. But instead I’m angry with the sales people and the Chinese.
On a lighter note, there were so many things that have happened in the past couple weeks that were AMAZING!
On Monday—4 August we bought all of the existing tailors bicycles thanks to Clif’s birthday fund raiser in the States! It was amazing! Actually, on Sunday we bought Francis’ bike because he only works on the weekends and goes to school during the week. So, at the end of his workday on Sunday, I told him to go and find the bike he wanted and come back and tell me how much it was. I gave him the money and told him to come back with a receipt and a bike so I could see it! He was so happy I almost cried!!!
Monday, however, was even more exciting. The ladies had already found the bikes they wanted, got a price and so we put down a deposit and waited all day for the bikes to be serviced. Around 5pm the ladies went to pay the remainder of the bike costs and walked them across town to their Catholic Church to have the bikes blessed. I was in a meeting with GWED-G so missed most of the blessing, but arrived just at the end. It was soooooooo great! All the bikes are the same style. They are all silver (except for Lucy’s which is PINK!!), they all have baskets, a bell and a headlamp which is powered by pedaling, and they say “smart lady” on them! I asked them all to meet me at Bora Bora (the place I am staying) and that I would be there soon. I hopped on a boda, went across town to Maq Foods and picked up a cake I had ordered. The cake was beautiful! It had been iced in pink and white icing and said “Thank you with love OMT” and had a bicycle drawn on it!! I took it over to Bora and we had cake and juice in celebration of our bike purchase! Julie, Annie and I watched all the ladies literally ride their bikes off into the sunset! What a perfect day.
Another exciting thing we have done is install some much needed shelving in Lucy’s market stall. The stall is too small and has just been a mess, mostly due to all the OMT materials they are housing. Lucy hired one of the orphans she cares for who is a carpenter, Sam, and his friend to build the shelves, compliments of OMT (since 90% of the stuff cluttering her stall is ours) and these shelves have TOTALLY transformed the space. Once the shelves were complete we had an organization party! So much fun! I can’t wait to get before and after photos posted (the internet here is too slow)!!!
I left Gulu on Wednesday (the 6th) to head back to Kampala for some meetings, etc. Julie is still in Gulu taking care of things, and the frustrations continue. Apparently the landlord for the space in Unyama has rescinded his offer (we had talked him into letting us keep the room for 3 months at the reduced rate) and we have to be out immediately. Julie and Stella are working on finding a new space. The problem with the ages of the participants continues to be a problem. George, the machine technician, actually pulled Julie and Lucy aside and raised his concern about the Women’s ages as well. One of the participants in Unyama is his sister and he said he didn’t think she could handle the training. This is huge. We have some very big decisions to make if some of these Women don’t come forward with their daughters. It is so upsetting to me because I almost cried after George had put the first table and machine together at Unyama because the Women were beyond excited, all taking turns pedaling the treadle. They were jumping and hollering and giving high-fives. But it just doesn’t make sense to keep them in the program when there are others who this could actually have a positive long-term effect on. This breaks my heart. We will see how things turn out over the next week.
So back in Kampala I’ve been trying to get my head around things. I had a meeting with USADF on Friday morning to look into getting a grant for Lucy to build a Women’s center which would have space for training and tailoring, a possible guest house, etc. The meeting was good, though we’ll have to go about our application a bit differently than expected. Essentially, Lucy will need to partner with GWED-G if this is to work because the business or NGO has to have been in existence for at least two to three years (registered) and have meticulous accounting records, etc. They also don’t typically give grants to individual people. So I will be working on approaching GWED-G with this idea when I return to Gulu next week. I think it is totally possible because a few months ago I was talking with the director of GWED-G, Pamela, and they have a piece of land which they want to build a Women’s center on, they just don’t have the funds to build. We may have to re-organize plans on this a bit to fit the Ugandan side of OMT into the picture, but I am optimistic. If we got this grant it would be unbelievable. The people at USADF sounded optimistic, IF we can get GWED-G on board. The grants are up to $250,000USD and we may potentially have some support from The Ohio State’s engineering department to make the facility a green facility which would be absolutely wonderful.
So I took long in finishing this update, and I’m sorry, but you were spared about ten more pages of great detail, so you should be happy! This update has only taken 6 Microsoft Word pages!! Yay!
]]>Hey everyone!
Today is officially my 1 year anniversary with Uganda (well, living
here). It's actually just past my 2 year anniversary with falling in
love with this country. Can you believe it?! I can't.
I celebrated my 1 year anniversary by first going to the post office
where I received some great stuff from a few of you (thank you soooooo
much!!! I'm having guacamole and tortilla chips for dinner, and then
breakfast, then dinner, then...). Then I decided to have what I
called "Happy Westernization Day", to pay homage to my 1st and true
home. I went to Garden City Mall, had a BLT on a bagel at New York
Kitchen and then went and had my hair cut and colored and got a
pedicure. These are things I always do myself, but after 10 rough
days in Gulu (longest blog entry EVER coming soon), I felt I deserved
it. Haircut....not so great (Nicolette I miss you like whoa), dye job
awesome, thought I had to bring my own hair dye (I love Uganda) and
the pedicure was out of this world!!! The guy kept cracking up and
scooting his chair back because my feet are so ticklish I couldn't
stand it and he was worried about getting kicked in the face
(Adrienne...remember my first pedicure ever when I almost kicked the
Chinese woman in New York City?).
On my way home from town, I was on the back of the boda thinking over
the past year.
This past year has been the most challenging and most fulfilling year
of my life (which, by the way, in 10 days will be 29 years of
life--holy crap!). I have done things I had only dreamed of doing.
I've had some major let downs, moments where I've never been so
depressed before, but I've also experienced some of the happiest
moments of my life. Truly.
People say things like, "Kate, you're doing such wonderful stuff for
people. You're helping out so much". It is hard for me to except
that sort of praise because honestly, I think I'm getting the most out
of the things I've been doing. My world has absolutely been rocked in
the most amazing way. The past 10 days in Gulu, I cried 3 times, all
of which were out of an insane amount of happiness. I am so turning
into my mother. I have come to terms with this and have decided that
this is OK because my mother is an amazing lady.
This is also a tough day because I am celebrating my 1 year
anniversary, but also saying goodbye to my dear friend Meredith.
Meredith has been here since January 25th. She was on my GYPA trip
(my second trip to Uganda--January 2007), and we've been living
together off and on since then. I am devastated to see her go.
So...in the last year I have said, not goodbye but until later, to
some very important people in my life (hardest thing to do ever), been
forced to learn a whole new level of patience, helped to start and run
One Mango Tree, finished lectures at Makerere University and been
placed at he top of my class (see patience levels), learned more about
this culture than I ever thought possible and am just starting to
realize, had my entire outlook on almost everything altered, saved 5
cats (I only have 3 in my home), etc. I'm amazed and so happy!
I have also watched a lot of people I've grown to love leave. The
problem with being here for so long is that most others are not
(non-Ugandans of course). I am so tired of saying goodbye to people.
So a new chapter is beginning in what I will start calling season 3 of
my Uganda saga. I will soon be welcoming a new roommate, continuing
my work with One Mango Tree and writing my dissertation.
I have officially started the countdown, and will be seeing many of
you December 5th! Have some hugs ready because I need them. That's
what I miss the most. Hugs.
OK, having a mom moment! Must stop before this totally turns into a
Hallmark commercial!
It has occurred to me that complete happiness, for me, seems to be found in Gulu. A few months ago I was interviewing for a one year fellowship which would have required me moving to Gulu and quite frankly, I did not want to do it. If I was asked to move to Gulu today, I think I would. I don’t know where the switch came, or what happened exactly, but I feel so happy here. I have a feeling of purpose, and being here has made me fall in love with Uganda all over again. I was desperately needing that. In a couple of weeks I will have been living here for one year, and my next trip home is so far in the distance. Life in Kampala was making me grow complacent and being here has been a breath of fresh air.
Today was quite successful. I met with Lucy this morning and we walked to the bank to withdraw money and we talked about this new project on the way. What I love about Lucy is that she is not afraid to ask for what she needs. It was nice walking and chatting with her, and showing her how to use the ATM. I could tell that she felt embarrassed that she couldn’t remember how to withdraw money from the machine, so I joked with her by telling her that my mom still didn’t know how to use the ATM and she had had a card for many years.
We returned to the market and then I came back to the hotel to do some work on my computer before Lucy and I were to meet with GWED-G at two.
I returned to the market around 1:30 to meet Lucy and talk with the tailors (Kevin and Prisca were the only two there) for a bit. This American woman came by and had ordered some pants to be made and was trying them on and I saw that she was carrying a bag that looked suspiciously like one of One Mango Tree’s “weekender” bags. I asked her if the ladies had made it and she said yes and that she had a bunch of the other products too! I told her about our projects and gave her my card! I’m so, so happy that the tailors have been selling the designs to people here! It’s so wonderful! Eventually I envision them having space to have a little store area where they can have some pre-made bags to sell to passersby.
Lucy and I headed through the bumpy market walkways, Lucy greeting almost everyone we passed (she knows everyone!), we reached the road and were shortly at GWED-G’s door. Peter and Stella were there to meet us and we had a very, very productive meeting! We were able to secure a building in each of the camps in which we will be working, set up a rough schedule for trainings, establish who Lucy’s assistant will be and so, so many other things. The meeting lasted a little over two hours and I was so happy to get so much accomplished!
After the meeting I stopped by the trouser tailor to pick up my patched jeans and headed back to Lucy’s stall. By this time, Sara and Monica (two of the other tailors) were back and we all sat around discussing the traditional dress they are going to make for me and eating pineapple, mango and fried cassava. Wonderful. They are still working on my Lwo and every time I pronounce a word for the first time the all laugh at me. I love it!
I returned, yet again, to Hotel Kakanyero to work some more, and send Halle and Julie my exciting news. I have also found myself working on the Obama campaign, both stateside and possibly now in Uganda as well, and managed to squeeze a little time in for that. It’s going to be great! You’ll all have to stay posted to find out details, for it’s far too early to let you all in on our plans just yet. Just keep the phrase “DiscObama” on your tongues for a bit.
While sending out emails and checking my flooded inbox (which I love, so please don’t stop) I got a reminder from my friend Jill that our 10 year high school reunion is in a week (why are the last ten years such a blur….oh wait) and she wants me to email her a video diary about what I’ve been up to to show at the reunion. I decided that I would ask Shaina for help on this and was fine until she started saying things like, “ten year reunion?! What?! That’s like when people come with their spouses and children and talk about their jobs!” Great. I should tell you all now that Shaina is twenty and I absolutely love her. She cracks me up all day every day and I really don’t want her to leave in a couple of weeks. I also have to get to Birmingham, Alabama as soon as possible to meet her parents and her grandma because they all sound too good to be true. I mean, clearly they ain’t got nothin’ on my family, but they still sound pretty great. She tells me family stories daily and has me rolling on the ground with laughter. She also has friends who went to her boarding school, compliments of Oprah, so I’m thinking this could be my in. If I met Oprah….oh man.
This evening Shaina (Sheuster Sheely—I kid you not, that is her name) and I decided to try out Kope Café, a relatively new café here which is yet another business which has sprouted up to ease the anxiety of the mono community. The café is affiliated with the organization, Invisible Children, and all the proceeds go to the HEELS program which gets various art programs going for youth in the north. The food was quite good but the service was atrocious. It took us an hour and a half to get our food, after asking about it twice. Several people who came in after us got their food before us, and then we asked for napkins and never got them. They were actually closing while we were eating.
During dinner I met this Norwegian man who is a professor at some school in Maryland and does conflict studies. He was incredibly full of himself and kept talking about how he was in Rwanda when that exploded and in Sudan when that exploded and in Uganda when that exploded and in Kosovo when that exploded and on and on and on and I wanted to say, “maybe if you would stay out of these countries they could experience some peace”. I didn’t. I humored him and gave him the ooooo’s and ahhhhh’s that he was looking for. Shaina and I decided that he hangs out at Kope Café to try and impress all the high school kids who come here to volunteer for Invisible Children for three weeks over break and since I had lived here for a year, he knew he wouldn’t impress me as much as he wanted so moved inside to join another group. I know I sound like a snob, but I’m just not as easily impressed anymore.
While walking back from Kope Café I spotted a new supermarket and got super excited. Really, the only thing deterring me from wanting to move to Gulu was that you cannot find plain yogurt here. Well kids, now you can! This supermarket opened three months ago, so since the last time I was here, and the Indian man behind the counter was laughing at my excitement over yogurt, Ceres sparkling apple juice and Colgate toothpaste (don’t worry Halle and Colin…the Tom’s of Maine hippie toothpaste has been finished for some time now). Shaina and I bought Ceres, tea masala, chilli cheese Pringles and digestive crackers and now we are back at Hotel Kakanyero enjoying our purchases. I think that waiting for so long for our food has made us perpetually hungry. Today was the first day I was able to really eat because of my good friend Mr. Giardia, and it was glorious. Lucy was actually force feeding me pineapples because she said I had lost too much weight. Hmmmm…when is the last time someone said that to me? I think perhaps about ten years ago?
Tomorrow is going to be so great. I don’t have any meetings but need to spend much of my morning really working on my research proposal and then at 3pm, Shaina and I are going to Lucy’s home! I cannot wait! I have been trying to do this since October of last year and my visits here are always so rushed and busy, so finally I get to go to her home! I am so pumped! I will also get to count products and pay Lucy for some things I’m taking back to Kampala with me on Sunday. Everything is looking so, so amazing I’m super excited! I have to say, it’s always hard for me to send our products off to the US because I want to keep one of every style in every pattern! So for those of you who haven’t checked out the website for a while, I strongly suggest that you do because we have new fabrics and new products and it’s WONDERFUL!
Alright, that is enough for tonight. More tomorrow from the northern part.
]]>**Quickly I want to thank some of you for your witty responses to my last entry. Yes, you are right…it is god that I’m not working in southern Uganda because you’re right, I probably would have written something like: “more later from the southern part” and that would have been weird.
Today has been a very eventful and exciting day for me in Gulu! I don’t even know where to begin. I am here to help kick off the launching of a new One Mango Tree project with the money awarded to us through Davis Projects for Peace. Up to this point there has been a lot of discussion in person and via email between me, Halle, Julie and Gulu Women’s Economic Development and Globalization (GWED-G, the indigenous organization which we’re working alongside with this project) but firm steps have not yet been taken. Essentially, we will be working with ten women from Unyama IDP camp and ten women from Bobi IDP camp, having Lucy train them in the tailoring of One Mango Tree products, and then taking them on as regular One Mango Tree tailors for business has steadily been increasing (Stateside and in Uganda) and we need more tailors!
Today, after a shower and breakfast I headed into the Owino Market (the central market here in Gulu town where Lucy’s stall is) and greeted the ladies. There were so many wonderful smiles and hugs! I sat on one of the extra stools and talked with the tailors as they continued cutting and sewing our beautiful bags. I had some other business to take care of, and Lucy was not yet there, so I took the opportunity to run off for about thirty minutes. I headed through the crowded, bumpy market to find my favorite trouser tailors (I call them trousers now because the first time I asked to have some made I said, “can you make me some pants” and they all laughed, because here, just as in the UK, pants are underwear). They saw me coming and welcomed me with about as much enthusiasm as the One Mango Tree tailors! I love Gulu. So I had a bag full of projects for them from patching jeans to “reducing” the size of trousers they had made me in the past, and I went ahead and ordered two new pairs of trousers. I’m so excited! Soon I will have trousers in every fabric they offer.
After fabrics were chosen and measurements were taken I said “Afoyo matek” (thank you very much in Lwo) and was off, detouring through the food section of the market, toward the GWED-G offices to greet Peter, Stella and Francis to set up a meeting to discuss what needs to be done for the project.
I had a pretty successful meeting with GWED-G and straightened out a lot of uncertainties we all had. Tomorrow Lucy and I are going in together to meet with GWED-G so we can figure out her exact needs and an ideal schedule for her involving the trainings, who she plans to use as her assistant, etc. Most of the daily logistics will depend on what Lucy needs to pull these off since she will be training everyone.
After our meeting with GWED-G, Shaina and I went and bought some juices and sodas and took them back to the Lucy’s stall and I introduced Shaina to all the tailors and we sat and chatted for a while. All the tailors are helping me to learn Lwo so that I can honor my name, Achen (which is not only German but also Acholi for the second born twin). They are also going to make me an Acholi dress, I just have to pick my fabrics! I’m so excited!
Shaina had an evening meeting to get to so we came back to Hotel Kakanyero, I showered and started working on as many computer things as possible before my battery died on me. Until a few hours ago, Gulu had been in a blackout for almost 24 hours so I had been seeking out all the businesses with generators.
I met Shaina at Bomah, another typical mono (Lwo for white) restaurant in Gulu, for dinner, but went early to steal their petrol-generated power and to see my friend Jacob who works there. Jacob is one of my favorite people to see here in Gulu. He’s actually very similar to my favorite Jacob in Kampala for they both giggle the entire time they are talking to me. I love it! These are two people I cannot be sad or angry around. I think we have some cosmic connection, for had I been a boy, my name too would be Jacob.
Sitting at Bomah, I was trying to get work done but instead ended up in gmail chats with four different people. Turns out, even from Uganda, thanks to Adrienne, I will be helping on Barak Obama’s campaign! We are organizing a fabulous fund raising event in good old Lawrence, Kansas (and possibly beyond). WARNING: Lawrencians…I may be hitting you up soon for your various talents! Stay tuned for more information on this front. I’m just excited to say on my resume that I organized a fund raiser for Obama from Uganda. How cool will that be?! Oh, well that and I support the guy. If for no other reason, I really like saying “Obamalamadingdong!”
Shaina showed up to Bomah so I tucked the computer away so we could successfully ignore each other because we were both fixated on the huge television broadcasting CNN. I never, ever watch TV here, so really, I think it could have been any program, but before moving here, if my television wasn’t on one of the Law and Order (original, Criminal Intent or Special Victims Unit) channels, it was typically on CNN. I have gone far too long without seeing Andersen Cooper’s beautiful Vanderbuiltian face.
The news disturbed me: shoot outs outside the US Consulate in Istanbul, Iran missile testing, Zimbabwe insanity. I couldn’t take it. I honestly haven’t been reading the papers lately or checking news online because I am seriously so fed up with the state of the world. I know it is important to be informed, and I’ve always been a news junkie, but honestly, ignorance is bliss and I would prefer to focus on the hardships I see around me because there are often uplifting stories around and within them, but those don’t make news headlines. It’s just war and Kristi Brinkley’s divorce and custody battle. Oh yes, and Jessie Jackson saying he wants to cut Obama’s nuts off. That was lovely. Al Sharpton hasn’t even gone that far! Yet.
So once CNN started re-rolling the stories as they do, Shaina and I started talking. She found out all kinds of interesting information today from this German photojournalist named Diamond. He was apparently one of the first photojournalists to cover the war in northern Uganda, and was here when it was not safe to be here. He’s covered stories in Sudan, Turkey and pretty much any other conflict zone you can think of. She relayed a lot of their conversation to me, but the most interesting/unnerving revealed was that not only does the Ugandan government own Bomah and most of the other mono hang outs in Gulu, when the war was going on and people were moving into the “protected” IDP camps, the government started buying land from those living in Gulu town, so now that the area is safe, they don’t have their land to return to. Essentially, the government was “helping” these people by giving them money for their land but now they’re stuck in the camps. And further, with the government owning all of these lands and businesses that international NGO’s rent or frequent, why would they want there to be “absolute” peace in the region? Why would they want the peace talks to be signed? If the peace talks are signed most of the NGOs will pull out and the money from places like Bomah and the Acholi Inn will stop flowing into the governments pockets. Just some food for thought. I, however, may have to stop taking meals at Bomah, which is too bad because I like seeing Jacob.
So now I am sitting on the balcony at Hotel Kakanyero (not owned by the government) listening to the sounds of the bats circling overhead praying on mosquitoes (and they’re not doing a good enough job, let me tell you) and the sounds of mid-eighties Madonna blaring from Havana Pub down the road. Tomorrow promises to be another full day and I’m excited for it! But now I must work on my research proposal and get some rest! More later from the northern part!
]]>I would like to start this entry with a correction to my last two. Now, I assure you, I know the difference between a ferry and a fairy. It may not have appeared that way in my last two entries, but I do! Thank you, Mom, for bringing that to my attention. I have to say, I hope some of you, along with my mother, envisioned me being carried from shore to shore by Tinkerbell or Eddie Izzard (or someone like him) instead of a big, floating mass with a motor.
I returned from Ssese unscathed and with enough time to rest and do laundry before going to Gulu. My plan was to leave for Gulu with Shaina on Monday morning. Sunday night around midnight I got violently ill. Giardia. Again. I have never been one to get sick often and Uganda is making me feel like a weakling. This is the 5th time I’ve been sick in a year. I don’t think Uganda is too dirty, I think America is too clean. I refuse to use hand sanitizer because I think it is very condescending to the culture, and I don’t carry wet wipes in my purse (though I have developed a habit for stealing toilet paper), and apparently my punishment is a lot of quality time with my toilet. So…since March I have had giardia 3 times, but it turns out that it has been the same giardia, I just did not treat it properly. NOTE: travelers, do not be lazy or cheap, just go to the doctor when you’re sick. Giardia cannot be cured with cipro, it can merely be treated, but the parasite will remain in your small intestine and every time it rears (no pun intended) it’s ugly head it becomes more and more fierce. This is the problem I faced. BUT now I am taking the proper medication and I’m doing much better, so much in fact that I was able to finally head to Gulu yesterday (Wednesday).
My trip to Gulu started early on Wednesday morning. I was to meet Shaina at La Fontaine at 6:30am, and thus grabbed a boda from my house at 6:15am. We arrived at the bus park around 7 only to sit there for an hour and a half before the bus filled and we were on our way. I was absolutely exhausted because the day before I adopted another kitten (I swear this is the last one) and it is so young and tiny and requires a ton of care right now, so sleep wasn’t much of an option for me or my house mate. I sat on the bus awake for about fifteen minutes before passing out, not even to wake up for our departure. In previous posts I’ve written about this stretch of road that has somewhere around 80 speed bumps, one right after another. A few hours into our journey I woke up not knowing where we were. I was trying to gage our progress based on the speed bump factor, but according to the time I knew we should have passed speed bump hell by now. I looked at Shaina, half way thinking they had finished construction and the speed bumps were gone, but she said, “oh no, they’re still there and we passed them”. How in the world did I not wake up for that?! I felt my head, the side nearest the window, and there was a massive, sore lump just above my temple indicating that we had in fact gone through that section of road. Again, how did I not wake up? Shaina and I have deduced that I hit my head on the first speed bump and it knocked me out so it was like I was still sleeping. Hmmmmm. It still hurts.
After that I was in and out for a lot of the ride, until, that is, we reached Kiryandongo. Now, police checkpoints are normal in East Africa. They pull large buses and cars over and take a quick scan of the vehicles contents and then you’re on your way. In Kiryandongo, however, we were not so lucky. The police on the main road instructed our driver to pull in to the police post’s land, and I saw that there were two other buses parked in front of us. The passengers were all out sitting or standing under a mango tree, and then as soon as we parked the passengers on my bus began offloading as well. Police officers were taking the large, yellow jerry cans from the boot under the bus, emptying the contents onto the ground and cutting the cans in half, lengthwise as the passengers stared in confusion. After a few moments, people started trailing off into the corn field to relieve themselves, and I had been holding my bladder for some time (I had been unsuccessful in my pre-departure dehydration) so decided to join. I gave Shaina my bag and followed the stream of women into what had unofficially become the ladies room in the corn field. The men, lucky dogs, got to urinate by the two Ankole cattle grazing in the field. I suppose the men didn’t need the privacy provided by the large corn stalks.
I find the “perfect” spot, unfasten my belt and jeans, realizing quickly why so many women here travel in long skirts, and squat directly into a thorn bush. I let out a whimper as three Ugandan women laugh at me and say “sorry” and my penis envy returns.
After removing the small sticky thorns from my butt and refastening my jeans and belt, I head back out to the open to meet Shaina and tell her about my plight. The police are still fussing over our jerry cans, so Shaina and I find a shaded area and find a place to sit on the ground. The men’s “toilet” was unoccupied so I decided to go over and see the Ankole cows up close and get some photos. They are magnificent animals. I snapped some photos and went back to Shaina and we played a couple games of MASH to pass the time. Everyone seemed to start heading back to the bus, so like good little sheep, Shaina and I followed. We boarded the bus, found our seats and then everyone on the bus began to freak out. It seemed that the police had decided to take our driver to court! Everyone was speaking in Luganda so of course Shaina and I had no idea what they were saying so we asked a guy sitting next to us. He said that the jerry cans contained milk and it is illegal to transport large quantities of milk. So now they wanted to take our driver to court. Huh? Over milk? This did not make sense. Then something happened and I’m guessing the driver said that they shouldn’t take him because he was not in charge of loading the bus, it was the conductor that should be taken, so the conductor takes off running down the road, followed by police carrying AK-47’s. This is where I really started to doubt that it was milk in those jerry cans. The passengers offload again, but then the bus engine started so we all got back on. We backed out of the space and got back on the road and stopped again when we reached the conductor who had taken off and been caught by the police. Everyone on the bus started screaming and some got off, and I was too afraid to look, though it was clear that the conductor was being beaten by the police. Then we were on our way, business as usual. After that point, I clearly couldn’t sleep anymore; plus, my favorite part of the journey wasn’t far ahead! Karuma Falls is the most beautiful part of the River Nile that I have seen thus far. If you jumped in at this point, you would die. And just after you cross the bridge over the falls there are ALWAYS tons of baboons waiting on the other side. I love it! I counted 11 baboons this time, just on my side of the bus, including a newborn baby resting in her mother’s arms. Beautiful. One of the baboons decided to charge our bus while we were passing. I’m thinking these fierce animals are best seen from inside a moving vessel, not up close and personal.
After Karuma Falls it’s only about an hour to the bus park in Gulu town. We started passing the larger IDP camps, including Bobi which One Mango Tree will be working in from now on.
We reached Gulu town and I told Shaina that we should wait until most of the people had off loaded for our backpacks were tightly stuffed in the overhead shelving (there was no room left in the boot due to the illegal milk we were carrying). I struggled and struggled to free my bag when some friendly Ugandan rasta came to help me. He told me that I needed to eat more posho (maize-meal paste) and matooke (steamed or cooked green banana) so I would grow strong. I showed him my muscles and said, “I am strong, but unfortunately also short”. He got a kick out of this and gave me his card. Shaina and I made it off the bus, made our way out of the park and grabbed two bodas to Hotel Kakanyero.
When we reached we were filthy, famished and exhausted. While Shaina showered I decided to call Lucy and Pamela at GWED-G to tell them I had reached safely. Pamela is in Kampala for a meeting but she told me to go to the office today to meet with Francis and Peter, the coordinators for our One Mango Tree project, so I am about to do that. Lucy knew I had been sick so she told me to take a shower, get some food and then rest and to come see her today too, so I am also about to go do that.
After our showers we headed to Maq Foods for some nourishment. Patrick, the owner, is in Kampala taking care of his sick son, so I’m not sure if I will get to see him on this journey, but I noticed right away that the place had changed. The first time I went to Maq Foods there was no menu, you just had to either know or ask what they had. The last time I was there (in March of this year) they had started making Indian food and had a very extensive Indian menu, but the menu didn’t contain any of the non-Indian food offered. This time they have a new menu with tons of new foods. Shaina and I were so hungry, and everything looked so wonderful we could not decide. We ordered several things and decided to share. Now, before yesterday, Maq Foods was fantastic simply because it was one of the few places in Gulu town that offered “western style” cuisine. The quality wasn’t superb, but in Gulu your standards are slightly different so a stale croissant can be the most delicious thing you’ve tasted in a long time. The quality of their food has improved tremendously, along with their menu! We got an avocado stuffed with tuna (or as the menu says, tuner) salad on a bed of mixed salad, veggie samosas, a fruit salad and a chicken club sandwich. It was all absolutely amazing (and not in the Gulu context)! It really was fantastic.
We left Maq Foods stuffed and happy, and even more exhausted due to the food coma. We headed back to Kakanyero, I promptly put on my pajamas and got into bed and started reading The Independent (a new weekly “subversive” magazine here in Uganda). I wanted to check my email and write this blog, but the energy was not there at all, and I was asleep by ten.
I have a busy day ahead of me which starts with going and seeing Lucy and the tailors! More later from the northern part!
]]>It is the American Independence Day and I am celebrating with a relatively quiet vacation in Ssese Islands. Kalangala to be precise. I have to say I am missing bar-b-ques, fireworks and my mom’s homemade ice cream, but the island has been quite nice. This is our last day here (the fairy back to Entebbe leaves at 8am tomorrow).
I was successful in leaving my computer at home and I have to say it has been wonderful.
Meredith, Daniel and I arrived Wednesday evening. Daniel is staying at Hornbill camp a few beaches down from ours (he stayed there the last time he was here) and Meredith and I chose Mirembe (peace in Lugisu) Beach Resort. It’s a little more expensive than Hornbill, but we have hot showers (which I have unfortunately been without for too long at home), we don’t have bed bugs (which they do have at Hornbill) and the owners are not psychotic (as they are at Hornbill).
Our first night here the three of us hung out on Mirembe beach for a while, had dinner and then traipsed over to Hornbill. It was dark and part of the journey was through water because the brush between some of the beaches was too thick to walk through. We sat at Hornbill’s little outside bar for a few hours enduring the idiocy of the German owner. He was a total schmuck. In fact, if you looked up schmuck in the Yiddish dictionary I am certain you would find his photograph. It’s too bad because aside from him and the bed bugs, the camp looked kind of nice in the dark. They had a Great Dane named Zulu, a pet pig (I forgot her name) and lots of various animal skulls hanging on trees around the camp (Mom, you would love it!).
After a few hours I had had enough of this guy so Meredith and I decided to grab our headlamps and make our way back to Mirembe, both feeling like we needed some peace after time wasted with Captain Obnoxious.
We returned to our room excited to see that the power was on (there is only power on the island from 7-11pm), and then it promptly went out. For the next sixty seconds our room was a flurry of curse words until we calmed down and got ready for bed with our headlamps blazing.
The next morning I woke up at 8am to the sounds of various birds and people working out in the yards, constructing stone paths, filling caps with cement, chopping firewood and raking leaves. I got up and decided to go out and sit on the porch and ready my book until Meredith woke up. It was her birthday, I had to let her sleep! Plus, we were the only ones staying here and the lake was so peaceful with the steam rising off the surface. The only sad thing was that the sky was so overcast. We had grand plans of lying on the beach all day reading and getting tan.
Meredith got out of bed around 10am and we went for breakfast. It was delicious! Fresh passion fruit juice, spiced African tea, scrambled eggs, toast and fresh fruit (all included in the price of the room). I was stuffed. Meredith wanted to go checkout the town on the island, but I was determined to stay away from civilization, plus, there was a hammock which had been eyeing me since our arrival. I decided to stay and read in the hammock while she was gone.
Before leaving, I had to enlist Meredith’s help in actually getting into the hammock. The thing was placed several feet off the ground, and the movable three-step staircase next to it was very wobbly. I looked at Meredith and said, “I have a feeling I will still be here when you return” for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get out on my own. The better my book got the more my bladder filled and Meredith still wasn’t back. I sat up, looking over the side of the hammock deciding to just jump. I made it safely, though admittedly awkwardly, to the ground and made my way to the cabin to use the toilet. I knew there was no way to get back in that shaky mess of knotted rope on my own, and the air had gotten warmer (though still horribly overcast), so I decided to change into my swimming suit and go lay on the beach and resume reading. Meredith made it back as the sun was making a half-assed attempt at coming out and so she joined me, followed by Daniel who had emerged from the brush between our two beaches. We lay in a row reading and waiting for the Entebbe fairy to arrive, carrying our friends Shaina and Julius.
Meredith and I had requested a beach bar-b-que for her birthday dinner, complete with pork spare ribs, chicken, and fresh caught tilapia from Lake Victoria. The meal was accompanied by pilou, mixed vegetables and Irish potatoes, fresh watermelon and pineapple, and a birthday cake which I had asked Shaina to secretly bring. She was smart to also bring some other pastries because the cakes you can buy in most supermarkets here are inedible. The pure sugar icing is rock hard, the cake as dry as the contents of an urn, and they do not expire for one year. We couldn’t even stick candles in it without them breaking.
We finished our meal and took our drinks back down to the campfire on the beach, playing games such as “never have I ever”. It totally took me back to high school, specifically remembering a night where about 15 of us played at Frank Wiles’ apartment where Jason Spangler shocked us with a confession involving foot apparel, but I digress.
With the fire burning out, we decided to retire to me and Shaina’s room to play the card game “speed”. This also took me back to high school and I was so thankful that these guys didn’t appear to be as violent as Adrienne. Our speed tournament turned into a cheesy song sing along which was a drunken mess as we were all singing Kurt von Achen style, humming most of the lyrics and then throwing in the few words we knew here and there.
It was 12:30 and we were all exhausted. Daniel had to make his way back to Hornbill in the dark by himself. I offered him our floor but he refused. He took my headlamp and I asked him to text me when he reached, and about 20 minutes later I received a text that said, “Mummy, I reached safely”.
So now it’s Friday. Around 10am we all had breakfast, the same as the day before, and everyone went for a bike ride on the island. I decided to finish my book (which I have done) and write, and will soon start working on my dissertation proposal whose due date keeps changing, then disappearing and is not moved to a MUCH earlier date than anticipated. I’m a bit nervous, truth be told, because I haven’t been able to get in touch with my advisor, and I leave for Gulu on Monday morning. Hmmmmm. I’m sure all will be fine.
This evening we’re going for a boat ride. I asked the manager if we could take the row boat out on our own and she said yes but that it has a small leach but assured us she would give us a bucket to scoop the water out.
So this is my Independence Day. The US Embassy had a celebration last weekend but 1) it wasn’t the 4th of July, and 2) it was 20,000 shillings per person to get in! So instead I went to the German Embassy to watch football and enjoy free food and drinks. I’m thinking of switching my citizenship I’ve already got the name, now all I have to do is learn more of the language (I only know numbers, greetings and curse words).
Tonight is our last night. I have to say I am a bit sad. It is so quiet and peaceful here. You cannot hear any automobiles or bodas, no blaring music, just the sounds of various birds, the waves hitting the sand and wood being cut. It feels like home. There’s no dust and when I blow my nose it doesn’t come out black because of diesel fumes, and I’m not running around the overcrowded city trying, often unsuccessfully to get things done. In fact, I haven’t heard the word mzungu since boarding the fairy at 2pm on Wednesday!
You can take the girl out of the country, but you cannot take the country out of the girl.
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