This is a link to a site that has some of my photos up. The quality of the images online is not quite as good as shutterfly but it was either upload for 14 hours or 14 minutes. I will try to upload to shutterfly when I am back home and have power more often than once every three days.
http://emory.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2012431&l=ea079&id=48101028
Love you all!
Linnea
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Its been a while
It’s been a while since I wrote last. The power has been out more often than not so I have been writing in my journal rather than on my blog. But once I have written in my journal and emailed, I just don’t really feel like typing everything out again. But I have some time now at work before we actually start collecting data so I figured that this is as good a way to entertain myself as anything else…
I don’t really remember where we left off last time…oh yes naked witch doctor. Turns out that he is just a crazy guy who wanders around. There are unfortunately a lot of people who have serious psycho social problems as a result of the war. Also lots of alcoholism. Ehhhh! I wasn’t going to make this depressing. I am giving Africa a very negative impression and actually there is a lot of great stuff here. For example…
As some of you may or may not recall, when I first arrived I stayed with friends of Lacey, my fellow researcher from Emory. Well this past weekend, one of the fathers, Leonard Olobo, went back to his village to deliver mass. He and several friends went home on Friday for a weekend at his family home. Lacey and I were invited and jumped at the chance to go to the country and experience legendary Ugandan hospitality. We arrived at the bus park in Gulu around 9 am to begin the one hour journey to Dima, the small trading village where we would be picked by Leonard. To be fair, bus park is a bit of a euphemism. It is about half the size of a football field, filled very haphazardly with buses and minivans and people and food sellers and junk vendors and garbage and goats and chickens. Anyway, we arrived at 9 and were directed to a bus that was going in our general direction. The bus was only half full when we got there and the thing about buses here is that they don’t leave until they are completely full. “No problem” we thought, “Maybe a half an hour, not so big deal.” Until we saw a friend on the bus who had been there since 7 am waiting for it to fill. Around 1045, it was deemed full enough with people and chickens (live chickens by the way) to leave. After about an hour of tipping side to side (the roads are so bad in some places that it is actually easier to drive off the road, sort of at an angle. This can be very frightening in a large bus, overfilled with people and animals), the conductor who had taken our tickets, taken our money and noted our destination asked where we were going.
“Dima.”
“Oh, Dima. But we already passed Dima. Tsk.” I am not sure how to explain how this was delivered. A combination of confusion, surprise, and also somehow exasperation, although it was our fault that the bus had not stopped.
So it was decided that the bus would stop at the next trading center after Dima. Only it didn’t. So we tried to explain that our friends had a car and they were following the bus (they had been signaling the bus to stop for about 5km at this point) and just drop us on the side of the road.
“No, no. Next stop. We will get you a taxi back.”
“No, we have a car. Just drop us.”
“No, no. Taxi at the next trade center.”
“We just passed the next trade center. Leave. Us. Here.”
“Almost there. Stay here.” (Here is standing in the aisle with chicken pecking at my feet and a kid poking me in the stomach)
Finally, we get to the third trading center and they decide that apparently that is far enough to take us, so they stop in the marketplace where we immediately start getting catcalls, muzungu, muzungu calls, and kabobs shoved under our noses. Leonard’s cousin found us while Leonard commenced to yell at the bus driver for about five minutes.
We ended up driving about 20k back up the road to get to Dima, but we made it. About 3k from the road is a dirt path that serves as the driveway for Leonard’s home. We drove up this path for 1, maybe 2 km, and then all of a sudden were in his homestead. Two houses, three ots (thatched huts covered with reeds), several pigs, goats, chickens, a cooking building, and a latrine building. And surrounded by maize and palm trees. Its on a small hill so turning to the south, you can see for miles and there is no one else that you can see. Its beautiful.
The second we got out of the car, we were being hugged by the people we knew and the ones that we didn’t, and being offered seats. Our bags were ceremoniously taken into the house and beers appeared in front of us in about 30 seconds.
Quick side note… Guinness and coke is a wonderful beverage. I know my mother is clutching her chest at the thought, but its actually really delicious…
Beers in hand we started telling the story of why we were late and all of a sudden, there was chicken in front of us for breakfast because we hadn’t eaten there and they were sure that therefore they needed to feed us. And we didn’t stop eating and drinking for about 28 ours. Really. If I was up, I had a beverage of some kind in my hand (generally alcoholic. The Ugandans really like their booze) or food. Its very rude to refuse food so basically you eat and drink the entire time you are awake. In fact, the only time that I wasn’t eating or drinking was when we went to Catholic Mass on Sunday.
After eating breakfast, we six of us piled into Leonard’s car and drove down to the community church. It is under construction currently however, so we had Mass outside. Since we are 1.white and 2. Leonard’s guests we were seated in the front with the fathers, facing the congregation. I am fairly sure that this was done to facilitate staring. Tip: to avoid stares, bow your head and pretend to pray. Mass was conducted in Luo, the local language, so I understood even less of what was going on than normally. After Leonard finished, he asked each of us to address the congregation. Of course since I am neither catholic or acholi, I had no idea what to say. So I looked helplessly at the crowd for a good three seconds, chewed my lip, and then said the only words I know in Acholi “pweya” (pronounced afoyo) which means “thank you”. Brought the house down.
On the way out, I started taking pictures of the kids and was immediately mobbed by small children. This country is inundated with small children. Leonard had to act as bodyguard to get me into the car. Small taste of what it would be like to be famous.
When we arrived back at Leonard’s, we immediately started eating and drinking again (ugh my stomach hurts just thinking about it). All of a sudden, another car came tearing up the driveway! It was another father from Kampala who decided that he just couldn’t miss the party so he drove the three hours up here with his friend. Jubilant celebrations started taking place. More beer was passed around. More boiled chicken was rushed out. Lots of pictures were taken. General good times. Around 2, we decided to head back to Gulu and since we now had two cars, we could be driven back. Hooray! The cars were a bit packed out as there were nine of us, but we managed just dandy. Once we rolled into Gulu, priorities were set. First, we needed to stop and get a drink. So we went to a restaurant that we knew about and ordered more beers. Then Joseph, one of the brothers that we were with, called one of his friends, a military man stationed in Gulu. Suddenly, we had an invitation to the military base. To do what…? Drink.
Five minutes, there is a military truck at the restaurant waiting to escort us to the base. The group split at this point as some people went back to Kampala, but Leonard, Fred, Joseph, Jasper, Lacey and I piled into the military vehicle and were on our way. We were waved through security and pulled up to the barracks. Since Isaac, Joseph’s friend, is a Lieutenant, he has private quarters. We entered, sat down, and within a minute, there were soldiers of lesser rank bringing us beers. Many introductions were made, comments made about the base yada yada. It came up in conversation that Isaac had been in Gulu for 21 years. This stopped the conversation. You see, the civil war here, which has displaced almost 2 million people, and killed hundred of thousands, started 21 years ago. So, Isaac has been a soldier at the most dangerous base in the country the entire length of the war. It was pretty overwhelming to think about what he had seen and done. Leonard especially was affected. His family is very near to the unofficial border of the war and was often in danger. Members of his and Jasper’s family, were killed or abducted and they were obviously very affected by how long Isaac had been there. It took some time to get out of the mood that talk of the war puts people in but luckily, boiled chicken made an appearance and we started eating. Again.
Finally, after about two hours or so, we left and were taken home. Lieutenant Isaac came along as well to accompany us to our place, which meant that we had a real military escort. We were broken up into two vehicles and the one with the Lt in it had an armed guard. I would like to reiterate at this point that the war is over. There has been no rebel activity for a year. We are PERFECTLY safe. But he is military and apparently pretty high up, hence the escort. It was pretty disturbing actually. There has been so much destruction and disruption here, by both military and rebels, that people are extremely wary of soldiers. The whole time we were driving, people on the streets were looking at the trucks with a mixture of fright and curiosity, particularly when we arrived at our compound. The gatekeeper, Joseph, looked terrified that the military was there until Lacey stuck her head out of the car so he could see that we were ok. He told us later that he thought that we had been arrested for taking pictures of things that we shouldn’t have been and that the military had come to the guesthouse to tell the sisters that we were in jail. Poor guy. We scared the heck out of him. But he was immediately telling all of his friends about it because when we left the next day, everyone was asking us why we were escorted by the military. We are quite the stars in the neighborhood right now.
Since then, life is pretty normal. Everyday Lacey and I are picked up, we come to the office, and we are taken home again. Last weekend was nice because we walked into town on Saturday and did a little shopping. It was a total of about ten km so a nice long walk. We bought some avocadoes which are two or three times larger than those at home and about thirty cents each. Delicious. Hmm…is it sad that that was really exciting to me and probably the highlight of our Saturday? I think not. I was pretty jazzed about it. Oh no. The highlight of my Saturday and everyday since is the huge block of Gouda cheese that I bought. It is so stinky and delicious and I have been eating a really inappropriate amount of it. Probably I should follow that statement with saying I have also been really active and healthy and running a lot lately, but frankly that just isn’t true. I have been running more than the first month I was here, that’s for sure, but somehow it’s still hard to talk myself into running around at 630 in the morning, being chased by little kids and made fun of by teenagers.
I have been playing a lot of poker lately. Enrique, my neighbor from Costa Rica, Lacey and I play every two or three nights with the change that we have managed to accumulate. I won big the first night and have since been losing slowly. Not much, mind you (mom I can feel you slowly steaming about me gambling my money away), just the equivalent of two or three bucks. Although actually I think that all I have lost is what I won the first day. So breaking even. Perfect.
That is pretty much how I feel about this whole experience. Some days, like yesterday, I am so frustrated with our inability to get anything done and the ridiculously slow progress of our research, I just want to quit and come home. Other days, when I actually get to do something, like go out to a health facility or a camp, or I have a chance to interact with people, I am amazed at the opportunity I have and the awesome things that I am seeing and doing. It usually goes one day on, one day off. So I am pretty much breaking even. Although really, I suppose that’s pretty good.
I don’t really remember where we left off last time…oh yes naked witch doctor. Turns out that he is just a crazy guy who wanders around. There are unfortunately a lot of people who have serious psycho social problems as a result of the war. Also lots of alcoholism. Ehhhh! I wasn’t going to make this depressing. I am giving Africa a very negative impression and actually there is a lot of great stuff here. For example…
As some of you may or may not recall, when I first arrived I stayed with friends of Lacey, my fellow researcher from Emory. Well this past weekend, one of the fathers, Leonard Olobo, went back to his village to deliver mass. He and several friends went home on Friday for a weekend at his family home. Lacey and I were invited and jumped at the chance to go to the country and experience legendary Ugandan hospitality. We arrived at the bus park in Gulu around 9 am to begin the one hour journey to Dima, the small trading village where we would be picked by Leonard. To be fair, bus park is a bit of a euphemism. It is about half the size of a football field, filled very haphazardly with buses and minivans and people and food sellers and junk vendors and garbage and goats and chickens. Anyway, we arrived at 9 and were directed to a bus that was going in our general direction. The bus was only half full when we got there and the thing about buses here is that they don’t leave until they are completely full. “No problem” we thought, “Maybe a half an hour, not so big deal.” Until we saw a friend on the bus who had been there since 7 am waiting for it to fill. Around 1045, it was deemed full enough with people and chickens (live chickens by the way) to leave. After about an hour of tipping side to side (the roads are so bad in some places that it is actually easier to drive off the road, sort of at an angle. This can be very frightening in a large bus, overfilled with people and animals), the conductor who had taken our tickets, taken our money and noted our destination asked where we were going.
“Dima.”
“Oh, Dima. But we already passed Dima. Tsk.” I am not sure how to explain how this was delivered. A combination of confusion, surprise, and also somehow exasperation, although it was our fault that the bus had not stopped.
So it was decided that the bus would stop at the next trading center after Dima. Only it didn’t. So we tried to explain that our friends had a car and they were following the bus (they had been signaling the bus to stop for about 5km at this point) and just drop us on the side of the road.
“No, no. Next stop. We will get you a taxi back.”
“No, we have a car. Just drop us.”
“No, no. Taxi at the next trade center.”
“We just passed the next trade center. Leave. Us. Here.”
“Almost there. Stay here.” (Here is standing in the aisle with chicken pecking at my feet and a kid poking me in the stomach)
Finally, we get to the third trading center and they decide that apparently that is far enough to take us, so they stop in the marketplace where we immediately start getting catcalls, muzungu, muzungu calls, and kabobs shoved under our noses. Leonard’s cousin found us while Leonard commenced to yell at the bus driver for about five minutes.
We ended up driving about 20k back up the road to get to Dima, but we made it. About 3k from the road is a dirt path that serves as the driveway for Leonard’s home. We drove up this path for 1, maybe 2 km, and then all of a sudden were in his homestead. Two houses, three ots (thatched huts covered with reeds), several pigs, goats, chickens, a cooking building, and a latrine building. And surrounded by maize and palm trees. Its on a small hill so turning to the south, you can see for miles and there is no one else that you can see. Its beautiful.
The second we got out of the car, we were being hugged by the people we knew and the ones that we didn’t, and being offered seats. Our bags were ceremoniously taken into the house and beers appeared in front of us in about 30 seconds.
Quick side note… Guinness and coke is a wonderful beverage. I know my mother is clutching her chest at the thought, but its actually really delicious…
Beers in hand we started telling the story of why we were late and all of a sudden, there was chicken in front of us for breakfast because we hadn’t eaten there and they were sure that therefore they needed to feed us. And we didn’t stop eating and drinking for about 28 ours. Really. If I was up, I had a beverage of some kind in my hand (generally alcoholic. The Ugandans really like their booze) or food. Its very rude to refuse food so basically you eat and drink the entire time you are awake. In fact, the only time that I wasn’t eating or drinking was when we went to Catholic Mass on Sunday.
After eating breakfast, we six of us piled into Leonard’s car and drove down to the community church. It is under construction currently however, so we had Mass outside. Since we are 1.white and 2. Leonard’s guests we were seated in the front with the fathers, facing the congregation. I am fairly sure that this was done to facilitate staring. Tip: to avoid stares, bow your head and pretend to pray. Mass was conducted in Luo, the local language, so I understood even less of what was going on than normally. After Leonard finished, he asked each of us to address the congregation. Of course since I am neither catholic or acholi, I had no idea what to say. So I looked helplessly at the crowd for a good three seconds, chewed my lip, and then said the only words I know in Acholi “pweya” (pronounced afoyo) which means “thank you”. Brought the house down.
On the way out, I started taking pictures of the kids and was immediately mobbed by small children. This country is inundated with small children. Leonard had to act as bodyguard to get me into the car. Small taste of what it would be like to be famous.
When we arrived back at Leonard’s, we immediately started eating and drinking again (ugh my stomach hurts just thinking about it). All of a sudden, another car came tearing up the driveway! It was another father from Kampala who decided that he just couldn’t miss the party so he drove the three hours up here with his friend. Jubilant celebrations started taking place. More beer was passed around. More boiled chicken was rushed out. Lots of pictures were taken. General good times. Around 2, we decided to head back to Gulu and since we now had two cars, we could be driven back. Hooray! The cars were a bit packed out as there were nine of us, but we managed just dandy. Once we rolled into Gulu, priorities were set. First, we needed to stop and get a drink. So we went to a restaurant that we knew about and ordered more beers. Then Joseph, one of the brothers that we were with, called one of his friends, a military man stationed in Gulu. Suddenly, we had an invitation to the military base. To do what…? Drink.
Five minutes, there is a military truck at the restaurant waiting to escort us to the base. The group split at this point as some people went back to Kampala, but Leonard, Fred, Joseph, Jasper, Lacey and I piled into the military vehicle and were on our way. We were waved through security and pulled up to the barracks. Since Isaac, Joseph’s friend, is a Lieutenant, he has private quarters. We entered, sat down, and within a minute, there were soldiers of lesser rank bringing us beers. Many introductions were made, comments made about the base yada yada. It came up in conversation that Isaac had been in Gulu for 21 years. This stopped the conversation. You see, the civil war here, which has displaced almost 2 million people, and killed hundred of thousands, started 21 years ago. So, Isaac has been a soldier at the most dangerous base in the country the entire length of the war. It was pretty overwhelming to think about what he had seen and done. Leonard especially was affected. His family is very near to the unofficial border of the war and was often in danger. Members of his and Jasper’s family, were killed or abducted and they were obviously very affected by how long Isaac had been there. It took some time to get out of the mood that talk of the war puts people in but luckily, boiled chicken made an appearance and we started eating. Again.
Finally, after about two hours or so, we left and were taken home. Lieutenant Isaac came along as well to accompany us to our place, which meant that we had a real military escort. We were broken up into two vehicles and the one with the Lt in it had an armed guard. I would like to reiterate at this point that the war is over. There has been no rebel activity for a year. We are PERFECTLY safe. But he is military and apparently pretty high up, hence the escort. It was pretty disturbing actually. There has been so much destruction and disruption here, by both military and rebels, that people are extremely wary of soldiers. The whole time we were driving, people on the streets were looking at the trucks with a mixture of fright and curiosity, particularly when we arrived at our compound. The gatekeeper, Joseph, looked terrified that the military was there until Lacey stuck her head out of the car so he could see that we were ok. He told us later that he thought that we had been arrested for taking pictures of things that we shouldn’t have been and that the military had come to the guesthouse to tell the sisters that we were in jail. Poor guy. We scared the heck out of him. But he was immediately telling all of his friends about it because when we left the next day, everyone was asking us why we were escorted by the military. We are quite the stars in the neighborhood right now.
Since then, life is pretty normal. Everyday Lacey and I are picked up, we come to the office, and we are taken home again. Last weekend was nice because we walked into town on Saturday and did a little shopping. It was a total of about ten km so a nice long walk. We bought some avocadoes which are two or three times larger than those at home and about thirty cents each. Delicious. Hmm…is it sad that that was really exciting to me and probably the highlight of our Saturday? I think not. I was pretty jazzed about it. Oh no. The highlight of my Saturday and everyday since is the huge block of Gouda cheese that I bought. It is so stinky and delicious and I have been eating a really inappropriate amount of it. Probably I should follow that statement with saying I have also been really active and healthy and running a lot lately, but frankly that just isn’t true. I have been running more than the first month I was here, that’s for sure, but somehow it’s still hard to talk myself into running around at 630 in the morning, being chased by little kids and made fun of by teenagers.
I have been playing a lot of poker lately. Enrique, my neighbor from Costa Rica, Lacey and I play every two or three nights with the change that we have managed to accumulate. I won big the first night and have since been losing slowly. Not much, mind you (mom I can feel you slowly steaming about me gambling my money away), just the equivalent of two or three bucks. Although actually I think that all I have lost is what I won the first day. So breaking even. Perfect.
That is pretty much how I feel about this whole experience. Some days, like yesterday, I am so frustrated with our inability to get anything done and the ridiculously slow progress of our research, I just want to quit and come home. Other days, when I actually get to do something, like go out to a health facility or a camp, or I have a chance to interact with people, I am amazed at the opportunity I have and the awesome things that I am seeing and doing. It usually goes one day on, one day off. So I am pretty much breaking even. Although really, I suppose that’s pretty good.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Tres
June 13, 2007
Well I have now been in Gulu town, Gulu district for a week. Gulu is the largest town in the Northern Region and one of the largest in Uganda. But that doesn’t mean it very large. By US standards it is actually pretty small. Overall there are probably about 100,000 people but that includes refugees at a local camp and the seasonal population of aid workers. There are a bunch of muzungus here. (Muzungu of course meaning white person.) Im sure that a many of you recognize this but for those that have never lived in a place where you are a definite minority, it’s a funny phenomenon that happens right around the time that you start to feel comfortable. You start noticing all the other white people around and thinking how weird they look being in this location. And though you are happy that you aren’t the only non-African person around because that can be really overwhelming, you are also a little annoyed that other foreigners are around because inevitable there very non-Africanness is somehow an affront to you and makes you think that they look very silly being here. And you forget that you yourself look just as silly. Anyway I have noticed this to be true and have verified these impressions with other travelers so I assume that they are universal.
Anyway, as for Gulu, it was the most northern city in the North during the civil war that enjoyed even marginal safety due to the military base. So there are a lot of people that migrated here because their own homes were so unsafe and also a lot of aid workers that moved to meet the humanitarian demands of the larger population. So like I said, a lot of muzungus. I am actually not staying in Gulu town proper, but in a smaller village called Lacor about ten minutes away by car. I think that I said something about that last time. Well it turns out that were we are staying is very nice and cheap. We both have bathrooms with real toilets and showers in our rooms and are paying less than 15 a night. That might not seem so exciting, but it’s actually pretty great . Of course the power is out more often that it is on, so no hot showers and no outside entertainment but really, you get used to that pretty fast. Actually the power has been out pretty constantly since Saturday. The UNFPA office has a generator that barely powers the building so we can charge up our computers and Ipods before we leave (in fact I am writing this from the office now and will put it online when I get back home where there isn’t power but there is wireless internet). But once the battery dies (which takes about 15 minutes max), there really isn’t too much to do.
The people that I am staying with are amazing. First, there is a guy who just graduated from Seattle U (yay Seattle!) in December and moved here to volunteer with the Jesuits to build a school. He is originally from Costa Rica and whenever he actually talks to us (which isn’t very often), he’s has some pretty interesting things to say about being a visitor to the States. And then there is the father who lives there, Father Felix. He is hands down one of the most amazing people that I have ever met. Currently, the rebels and the government are in peace talks. Therefore, the rebels are in camps in Sudan and the DRC where they have very little freedom to leave and little access to basic services. To keep the rebels from attacking local villages and pillaging, Father Felix makes weekly trips to their camps and brings them food, basic health supplies, and psycho social counseling. Most of the fighters are abducted child soldiers who require extensive counseling and aid. There is no real guarantee that he will return safely, but he still goes each time, working to reconstruct and ensure peace. Yeah. Amazing. I am constantly in awe of him. Next weekend he is going up to Sudan to take part in the peace talks and try to help broker a final end to the war. And then he will come back next week and continue offering counseling to returned children and displaced families. Sister Margaret also lives at the center and does much of the same work. She is a trained psychologist and counselor and works extensively with children and women who have been abducted, raped, and abandoned, as well as returning child soldiers. But despite all of this incredible difficult and emotionally draining work (or maybe because of it) she is one of the happiest, kindest, and cheerful people that I have met. She is always laughing and offering aid and joking around. And there are so many other people that I have met that amaze me too. No one here is untouched by this war. Everyone has a story of violence or death or deprivation. But there is so much hope. You can see it in the rapid rebuilding of the houses and the towns and of the gradual desertion of the IDP camps. It’s terrible to see what people are capable of doing to each other, especially what we are capable of visiting upon children, but it is amazing to see how it is possible to forgive and move on. If anyone wants to get a better idea of what went on here, read “Aboke Girls”. I just started it and even though it makes me cry, it’s a very powerful retelling of the recent history here.
I have much more to say about the camps and the poverty here as a result of the war but I think maybe I have just gotten depressing enough. So instead I will talk about what I actually do.
For the most part, we have been in the office. Everyday we come in, get really frustrated at our inability to do anything and rework our research projects to reflect this. Then we think that we have everything figured out and go home to our powerless rooms. But then we talk about what we changed and how maybe this or that is still infeasible or was better before or doesn’t make sense and we go back to the office again the next day and start all over. Except for yesterday… I went to district meeting of all the UN agencies in the area and met people from UNICEF, UNHCR, UNDP, WHO, CARE, and several other international humanitarian agencies. The meeting itself was very ceremonial and took twice as long as it would have in the States, but overall it was interesting to learn about the coordination of emergency efforts and the work that has been to improve the quality of life in the area. It was in Amuru town which existed of exactly two building, a giant UNICEF tent and ten or twelve bandhas, which are mud huts with thatch roofs. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. I took pictures of the landscape. It’s beautiful but there are no signs of people other than a road and some chickens. On the way back I saw a wicked snake. It was at least four feet long but I suspect even longer. I am not sure if it was a black mamba or a cobra. I felt stupid asking because I was so excited at seeing it to begin with and made a huge deal out of it. It was HUGE. Thank god I was in the car. If I wasn’t, I am sure that it wouldn’t have been nearly as cool.
Our research is coming along. Actually the past two days have been pretty beneficial. We hired our first research assistant and are keeping him occupied doing all the useless training that we had to do to come here and he now has to complete so we can use the data that he helps us collect. Yesterday, we got permission from the district health official to actually conduct work so probably not next week but the week after, we will actually start data collection. I think that that will give us about two or three weeks of actually getting information, out of nine weeks being here. Just about what we expected.
Well with that heartening thought, I think that I had better continue with work. Funny how I never feel like I really have that much to say but once I start writing, it seems I have quite a bit. And I didn’t even get started on the naked cannibal witch doctor I saw the other day!!! (There isn’t really much more than that to say. It was just a naked guy with some jewelry around his head. Lacey said he might be a cannibal because the witch doctors sometimes are but who knows. We didn’t get out of the car to check)
Love you all
Linnea
Well I have now been in Gulu town, Gulu district for a week. Gulu is the largest town in the Northern Region and one of the largest in Uganda. But that doesn’t mean it very large. By US standards it is actually pretty small. Overall there are probably about 100,000 people but that includes refugees at a local camp and the seasonal population of aid workers. There are a bunch of muzungus here. (Muzungu of course meaning white person.) Im sure that a many of you recognize this but for those that have never lived in a place where you are a definite minority, it’s a funny phenomenon that happens right around the time that you start to feel comfortable. You start noticing all the other white people around and thinking how weird they look being in this location. And though you are happy that you aren’t the only non-African person around because that can be really overwhelming, you are also a little annoyed that other foreigners are around because inevitable there very non-Africanness is somehow an affront to you and makes you think that they look very silly being here. And you forget that you yourself look just as silly. Anyway I have noticed this to be true and have verified these impressions with other travelers so I assume that they are universal.
Anyway, as for Gulu, it was the most northern city in the North during the civil war that enjoyed even marginal safety due to the military base. So there are a lot of people that migrated here because their own homes were so unsafe and also a lot of aid workers that moved to meet the humanitarian demands of the larger population. So like I said, a lot of muzungus. I am actually not staying in Gulu town proper, but in a smaller village called Lacor about ten minutes away by car. I think that I said something about that last time. Well it turns out that were we are staying is very nice and cheap. We both have bathrooms with real toilets and showers in our rooms and are paying less than 15 a night. That might not seem so exciting, but it’s actually pretty great . Of course the power is out more often that it is on, so no hot showers and no outside entertainment but really, you get used to that pretty fast. Actually the power has been out pretty constantly since Saturday. The UNFPA office has a generator that barely powers the building so we can charge up our computers and Ipods before we leave (in fact I am writing this from the office now and will put it online when I get back home where there isn’t power but there is wireless internet). But once the battery dies (which takes about 15 minutes max), there really isn’t too much to do.
The people that I am staying with are amazing. First, there is a guy who just graduated from Seattle U (yay Seattle!) in December and moved here to volunteer with the Jesuits to build a school. He is originally from Costa Rica and whenever he actually talks to us (which isn’t very often), he’s has some pretty interesting things to say about being a visitor to the States. And then there is the father who lives there, Father Felix. He is hands down one of the most amazing people that I have ever met. Currently, the rebels and the government are in peace talks. Therefore, the rebels are in camps in Sudan and the DRC where they have very little freedom to leave and little access to basic services. To keep the rebels from attacking local villages and pillaging, Father Felix makes weekly trips to their camps and brings them food, basic health supplies, and psycho social counseling. Most of the fighters are abducted child soldiers who require extensive counseling and aid. There is no real guarantee that he will return safely, but he still goes each time, working to reconstruct and ensure peace. Yeah. Amazing. I am constantly in awe of him. Next weekend he is going up to Sudan to take part in the peace talks and try to help broker a final end to the war. And then he will come back next week and continue offering counseling to returned children and displaced families. Sister Margaret also lives at the center and does much of the same work. She is a trained psychologist and counselor and works extensively with children and women who have been abducted, raped, and abandoned, as well as returning child soldiers. But despite all of this incredible difficult and emotionally draining work (or maybe because of it) she is one of the happiest, kindest, and cheerful people that I have met. She is always laughing and offering aid and joking around. And there are so many other people that I have met that amaze me too. No one here is untouched by this war. Everyone has a story of violence or death or deprivation. But there is so much hope. You can see it in the rapid rebuilding of the houses and the towns and of the gradual desertion of the IDP camps. It’s terrible to see what people are capable of doing to each other, especially what we are capable of visiting upon children, but it is amazing to see how it is possible to forgive and move on. If anyone wants to get a better idea of what went on here, read “Aboke Girls”. I just started it and even though it makes me cry, it’s a very powerful retelling of the recent history here.
I have much more to say about the camps and the poverty here as a result of the war but I think maybe I have just gotten depressing enough. So instead I will talk about what I actually do.
For the most part, we have been in the office. Everyday we come in, get really frustrated at our inability to do anything and rework our research projects to reflect this. Then we think that we have everything figured out and go home to our powerless rooms. But then we talk about what we changed and how maybe this or that is still infeasible or was better before or doesn’t make sense and we go back to the office again the next day and start all over. Except for yesterday… I went to district meeting of all the UN agencies in the area and met people from UNICEF, UNHCR, UNDP, WHO, CARE, and several other international humanitarian agencies. The meeting itself was very ceremonial and took twice as long as it would have in the States, but overall it was interesting to learn about the coordination of emergency efforts and the work that has been to improve the quality of life in the area. It was in Amuru town which existed of exactly two building, a giant UNICEF tent and ten or twelve bandhas, which are mud huts with thatch roofs. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. I took pictures of the landscape. It’s beautiful but there are no signs of people other than a road and some chickens. On the way back I saw a wicked snake. It was at least four feet long but I suspect even longer. I am not sure if it was a black mamba or a cobra. I felt stupid asking because I was so excited at seeing it to begin with and made a huge deal out of it. It was HUGE. Thank god I was in the car. If I wasn’t, I am sure that it wouldn’t have been nearly as cool.
Our research is coming along. Actually the past two days have been pretty beneficial. We hired our first research assistant and are keeping him occupied doing all the useless training that we had to do to come here and he now has to complete so we can use the data that he helps us collect. Yesterday, we got permission from the district health official to actually conduct work so probably not next week but the week after, we will actually start data collection. I think that that will give us about two or three weeks of actually getting information, out of nine weeks being here. Just about what we expected.
Well with that heartening thought, I think that I had better continue with work. Funny how I never feel like I really have that much to say but once I start writing, it seems I have quite a bit. And I didn’t even get started on the naked cannibal witch doctor I saw the other day!!! (There isn’t really much more than that to say. It was just a naked guy with some jewelry around his head. Lacey said he might be a cannibal because the witch doctors sometimes are but who knows. We didn’t get out of the car to check)
Love you all
Linnea
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
To the north...
Well, ostensibly we are on our way to our duty station in Gulu town, Gulu distric tomorrow. It has been quite an adventure these past two days figuring out exactly what we are going to be doing. Our district sub office boss, Rachel, came into town on Sunday and we met for dinner. Over dinner and since, it has become increasingly clear that our research is, if not doomed, at least, severly challenged. Our work is supposed to take place in villages, not so many, maybe just three or four, but villages that we need to drive to. Do we have a car at our disposal? No. Do most of the people speak English. Maybe half. Do we have a translator? Sure if we pay for one. Do we have research assistance? See previous answer. So we will see what happens. But since neither Lacey nor I really suspected to get much data out of this summer, we arent too disapointed. If nothing else, we saw what the inner workings of a UN agency are like. (In case you are interested, a LOT of meetings. All the time)
In good news, I did get official approval from the school to go ahead with my research. Except that now, my "bosses" want me to ask people under the age of 18 about the family planning facilities. Anyone who knows the IRB process can guess how well that is going to go over. Gulp.
In other news, I am not sure what Gulu is going to be like. It seems that right now we are staying at quite a nice place, very cush relatively speaking. But we may not be able to stay there the whole time because UN security has to approve. So worry not father, I will have to stay somewhere that has passed one of the most stringent security checks in the world. Weeee. Really getting the full experience.
I did go shopping today and bought some postcards and other assorted items. I couldnt help it, I stumbled into a bookstore and just walked around in heaven for some time. Oh how I love bookstores.
As for other Ugandan news, the Uganda football team (soccer) beat the Nigerian team here in Kampala this past Saturday and it was quite the celebration. People were screaming and dancing and honking horns and just having a ridiculous time of it. And it wasnt like the world cup or anything. They didnt really win anything. It is just such a big deal here that any win (OK especially against Nigeria because they are sort of top dog) is cause for celebration. Quick side note, there was a riot outside of the Nigerian teams hotel of upset Nigerian fans. Football is pretty great. You have too just love the passion.
Well this is my last night here at the Holy Cross guesthouse and i really should go socialize. The priests here are very dear and have become quite good compadres over the last few days. I will try to remember to get at least a few pictures before i go.
So from Kampala, the cockroach carcass which still resides under my bed from an epic battle earlier this week and I wish you kindest and fondest regards...
Linnea
In good news, I did get official approval from the school to go ahead with my research. Except that now, my "bosses" want me to ask people under the age of 18 about the family planning facilities. Anyone who knows the IRB process can guess how well that is going to go over. Gulp.
In other news, I am not sure what Gulu is going to be like. It seems that right now we are staying at quite a nice place, very cush relatively speaking. But we may not be able to stay there the whole time because UN security has to approve. So worry not father, I will have to stay somewhere that has passed one of the most stringent security checks in the world. Weeee. Really getting the full experience.
I did go shopping today and bought some postcards and other assorted items. I couldnt help it, I stumbled into a bookstore and just walked around in heaven for some time. Oh how I love bookstores.
As for other Ugandan news, the Uganda football team (soccer) beat the Nigerian team here in Kampala this past Saturday and it was quite the celebration. People were screaming and dancing and honking horns and just having a ridiculous time of it. And it wasnt like the world cup or anything. They didnt really win anything. It is just such a big deal here that any win (OK especially against Nigeria because they are sort of top dog) is cause for celebration. Quick side note, there was a riot outside of the Nigerian teams hotel of upset Nigerian fans. Football is pretty great. You have too just love the passion.
Well this is my last night here at the Holy Cross guesthouse and i really should go socialize. The priests here are very dear and have become quite good compadres over the last few days. I will try to remember to get at least a few pictures before i go.
So from Kampala, the cockroach carcass which still resides under my bed from an epic battle earlier this week and I wish you kindest and fondest regards...
Linnea
Friday, June 1, 2007
First week
A lot, probably all of you, have already read part of this but come on, my life is interesting enough to warrant a second perusal right? Yeah it is. You know it.
So heres whats up.
Lacey, who attend Rollins with me, and I started working this week. But as expected, they didnt really know what to do with us. So we show up for a couple of hours a day and attend some meetings and tool around the office. We are only at the main office in Kampala, the capital city, until Tuesday so its not so bad that they dont have much for us. Wednesday was pretty cool though. We attended a meeting with several of the government officials from Swaziland, including the finance minister and the health minister. It was quite interesting to see how all the things that we are learning in class are actually applied in the context of government and policy. After that meeting, we met up with a former Humphrey fellow who attended Emory in 1999-2000. He was amazing. Really, AMAZING. I am going to assume that a lot of people dont know the history of Uganda so I am going to do a real quick recap and how this relates to Samuel...
After british colonization ended, Obote (I am not spelling most of these names right but bear with me) who was from the Northern regions of Uganda took over. He was widly corrupt though so with the aid of the British, Idi Amin, also from the north, arranged a coup. He basically engaged in ethnic cleansing throughout the Southern region of Uganda and killed some 300,000 people. Eventually he was taken out, Obote came back in, and then the current preseident Musevini, kicked him out. Now Musevini is from the South. As such, he filled most of his positions with Southern residents and took political revenge on the North, relegating them to much lower and less prestigious positions. Essentially, the South became educated and well off and the North became poorer and cut off from political power. So there has been a rebel troop, the Lords Resistance Army, operating in the Northern regions, near Sudan, for the past twenty years or so, attempting to overthrow the government. They have lost all support from the people however, and two years ago a cease fire was called and peace talks continue.
Now Samuel, is originally from the North. He is a doctor and he worked in a hospital there. During the Amin years, he was mistaken for a Tanzanian spy and held at gunpoint and interrogated. He escaped but the other two people who were being interrogated with him "disapeared". Some years after the rebels started the rebellion, they took to kidnapping children for soldiers and others for hostages, regardless of their tribal affiliation. Samuel was almost kidnapped twice, his sister was kidnapped and ransomed in exchange for his life (she was released), and eventually he escaped from the area. He told us so many stories like this, it was heart breaking. But he is so kind and so generous. Although I am sure that he is haunted, he is not vengeful nor does he hold hatred towards the rebels.
Anyway, we had lunch with him and it was so inspiring. Probably my favorite part of the trip so far. After lunch, Lacey and I met up with some friends of hers at a local bar and drank a few beers. One of her friends decided that he was really in the mood for some friend grasshoppers and got the waiters to go out in the street and buy us a bagful. So, with some prompting (and beer), I ate fried grasshopper. It really isnt too bad. They are really crunchy but then also a little soft. Kind of similar to shrimp. Im not sure that I will do it again, but Im definitely glad that I tried them.
Thursday, a bunch of people from Notre Dame came here (the place I am staying is funded by the church that runs ND) and a bunch of people went out to dinner. When they came back, we drank wine and had deep political and social chats until five in the morning. Thankfully, Lacey and I didnt have to go into work. It was interesting to once again debate issues of health since most people at Rollins share generally similar opinions.
As for just general impressions of Uganda...
I hate mosquitos. I am pretty sure I am am going to get malaria because I am bitten constantly but Lacey assures me that it really isnt that bad. Kind of like the flu. It rains a lot here, thus the mosquitos. The power goes out pretty often but not for very long at a time so thats nice. After washing clothes and leaving them out to dry, they need to be ironed so that the eggs that were probably laid in them are killed. People are really friendly, although as in India, they charge ridiculous prices and try to cheat us all the time. THe food is not nearly as good as Indian food, but I think that thats probably ok. Ugandan catholic fathers are awesome. I havent laughed so hard and so often in a pretty long time. (OK like two weeks but still they are really funny).
This has now become far too long. And I have to go socialize and finish ironing. Hope that everyone is happy and healthy!
So heres whats up.
Lacey, who attend Rollins with me, and I started working this week. But as expected, they didnt really know what to do with us. So we show up for a couple of hours a day and attend some meetings and tool around the office. We are only at the main office in Kampala, the capital city, until Tuesday so its not so bad that they dont have much for us. Wednesday was pretty cool though. We attended a meeting with several of the government officials from Swaziland, including the finance minister and the health minister. It was quite interesting to see how all the things that we are learning in class are actually applied in the context of government and policy. After that meeting, we met up with a former Humphrey fellow who attended Emory in 1999-2000. He was amazing. Really, AMAZING. I am going to assume that a lot of people dont know the history of Uganda so I am going to do a real quick recap and how this relates to Samuel...
After british colonization ended, Obote (I am not spelling most of these names right but bear with me) who was from the Northern regions of Uganda took over. He was widly corrupt though so with the aid of the British, Idi Amin, also from the north, arranged a coup. He basically engaged in ethnic cleansing throughout the Southern region of Uganda and killed some 300,000 people. Eventually he was taken out, Obote came back in, and then the current preseident Musevini, kicked him out. Now Musevini is from the South. As such, he filled most of his positions with Southern residents and took political revenge on the North, relegating them to much lower and less prestigious positions. Essentially, the South became educated and well off and the North became poorer and cut off from political power. So there has been a rebel troop, the Lords Resistance Army, operating in the Northern regions, near Sudan, for the past twenty years or so, attempting to overthrow the government. They have lost all support from the people however, and two years ago a cease fire was called and peace talks continue.
Now Samuel, is originally from the North. He is a doctor and he worked in a hospital there. During the Amin years, he was mistaken for a Tanzanian spy and held at gunpoint and interrogated. He escaped but the other two people who were being interrogated with him "disapeared". Some years after the rebels started the rebellion, they took to kidnapping children for soldiers and others for hostages, regardless of their tribal affiliation. Samuel was almost kidnapped twice, his sister was kidnapped and ransomed in exchange for his life (she was released), and eventually he escaped from the area. He told us so many stories like this, it was heart breaking. But he is so kind and so generous. Although I am sure that he is haunted, he is not vengeful nor does he hold hatred towards the rebels.
Anyway, we had lunch with him and it was so inspiring. Probably my favorite part of the trip so far. After lunch, Lacey and I met up with some friends of hers at a local bar and drank a few beers. One of her friends decided that he was really in the mood for some friend grasshoppers and got the waiters to go out in the street and buy us a bagful. So, with some prompting (and beer), I ate fried grasshopper. It really isnt too bad. They are really crunchy but then also a little soft. Kind of similar to shrimp. Im not sure that I will do it again, but Im definitely glad that I tried them.
Thursday, a bunch of people from Notre Dame came here (the place I am staying is funded by the church that runs ND) and a bunch of people went out to dinner. When they came back, we drank wine and had deep political and social chats until five in the morning. Thankfully, Lacey and I didnt have to go into work. It was interesting to once again debate issues of health since most people at Rollins share generally similar opinions.
As for just general impressions of Uganda...
I hate mosquitos. I am pretty sure I am am going to get malaria because I am bitten constantly but Lacey assures me that it really isnt that bad. Kind of like the flu. It rains a lot here, thus the mosquitos. The power goes out pretty often but not for very long at a time so thats nice. After washing clothes and leaving them out to dry, they need to be ironed so that the eggs that were probably laid in them are killed. People are really friendly, although as in India, they charge ridiculous prices and try to cheat us all the time. THe food is not nearly as good as Indian food, but I think that thats probably ok. Ugandan catholic fathers are awesome. I havent laughed so hard and so often in a pretty long time. (OK like two weeks but still they are really funny).
This has now become far too long. And I have to go socialize and finish ironing. Hope that everyone is happy and healthy!
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