Getting Used to Things

A whole week has already passed by since I arrived in Uganda. I suffered from numerous delays and cancellations and I arrived in Kampala after a grueling fifty-three hours of traveling. In Brussels, where my flight was cancelled I met a great group of Belgians going to work in the southwest of Uganda and stayed with them as I navigated the numerous airports we were rerouted through.

I arrived in Kampala in the middle of the day and made my way by taxi from Entebbe where the airport is located to Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. From the airplane door the strong UN presence in Uganda was noticeable, and just outside of the airport was a large UN headquarters. Also in Entebbe was the new Presidential manor built overlooking Lake Victoria. As we drove down the dusty road towards the city, the white edifice eclipsed its impoverished surroundings. After stopping for some petrol and mango juice I asked my newfound taxi-driving friend Richard to detour through the city so I could see what it was like. Ugandan driving is the scariest I’ve ever encountered as pedestrians, bicyclists, motorbikes, cars and transports weave along the pothole ridden roads at breakneck speeds, but I arrived safely at the hostel where I had reserved a room for the two nights I would be in transit.

Hanna and her father who lives in Sudan had already arrived at the hostel and we spent the evening enjoying some local dishes and brushing up on some Arabic. We also met Moses a friend of friend who had been contacted to meet us and help us move around the city. The next day after learning our two final friends had also had bad flight delays and would arrive late we went to town and ate some Lebanese food and orientated ourselves. Later that night after our friends arrived we went out with Moses to the National Theater and a shopping mall to get breakfast supplies and a few things we had forgotten to pack. Aurelien and I played some pool and met a German guy who was doing his social year working just outside of Kampala.

On Sunday we made the journey up to Gulu, bringing Moses with us, arriving after six hours in a tight bus. I tried some labolo (Luo for banana) and grilled liver both of which were surprisingly quite delicious. I caught my first glimpse of the Nile as it rushed unforgiving from its source in Jinja. We are hoping to meet up with a fellow GlobeMed group from WashU and doing some white water rafting at the source. As we arrived in Gulu, the stark contrast even between Kampala and Gulu was very evident. The streets of Gulu are all very rough and trash laden, the dust lay thick everywhere and spaced between buildings are many thatched huts. We were greeted somewhat harshly as issues arose about the amount we would be charged for the transportation of our luggage. Once resolved, we proceeded to meet the Health Alert Uganda (abbreviated HAU from here out) staff briefly before continuing on to the hotel where we set up for the next six weeks.

That night was international HIV/AIDS awareness day and Health Alert was celebrating by co-hosting a candlelight march through the streets of Gulu. It was raining fairly heavily and our candles were extinguished often but this forced us to find friends and work together to keep our candles alight. We arrived at a big field where a bonfire had been lit and gathered around to listen to the words of several HAU staff and other community members. It was a fantastic way to jump into the experience of working with HAU. One of the most noticeable differences in Gulu to anywhere else I’ve been except in the Galapagos Islands is the darkness of the area as night falls.

Our first full day at HAU was filled with general orientation and meeting staff and peer educators. However in the afternoon I travelled with one of the project coordinators, Robert, to Layibi, one of the four districts in town, for two follow up visits. The first home we went to visit was the home of a girl who had been paralyzed by her antiretroviral drug (ARV) treatment. Unfortunately, she was not there as her family had travelled out to a village to spend time with grandparents. The second visit was to the home of a boy who refused to take his medication. With him was his caretaker who works as a community volunteer for HAU and two other children living with HIV. All three were very shy and found it difficult to fully engage me. The varying responses received from the local kids vary from sheer shock to utter fright. Almost all react by exclaiming “munu” which literally translates to white man or European. Some shout “munu” and give a big wave and others peer curiously from behind trees and whisper the words to friends and when you turn to luck they scatter and giggle. This first experience of working in the field was fantastic and offered the chance to learn a few more phrases in Luo as well as make a connection with the boy who hadn’t been taking his Sephrin (another drug used before ARV regiments). I promised to meet with him again and fully explain to him the importance of taking his medication since he claimed he was unaware of the reason for taking it. One of the other children asked for a book and pen and Robert said that it is believed that if the wise white man gives a student supplies he is more likely to succeed. We frequently run into these ideas that as whites we can provide so much. On Thursday for example I was asked to marry a man’s daughter so that I could provide for her. It makes for very awkward scenarios.

On the second day I went with my direct micro-finance liaison at HAU, Jackie, to her main district of focus Pece where we met with a group of twelve women all of who are care takers of children living with HIV. Jackie, discussed the importance of hygiene, regularity of taking meds, and other issues related to the kids. I’ve been struggling to get her to engage and involve me in her conversations with the clients to the same degree as other project coordinators have included me and the other GlobeMed interns. That afternoon I travelled to Cope, my first visit to an internally displaced people’s camp (IDP). Its amazing how much more impoverished the area is compared to the districts in town.

The food in Gulu is quite good and where the cuisine lacks variety it makes up in heartiness. Most meals include a meat goat, fish, chicken, liver, beef, pork, a vegetable most of which are greens, boiled bananas, groundnuts, beans and a grain typically millet, rice, potatoes, chips, cassava, or sorghum. People eat with there hands, which is a public health nightmare, but highly enjoyable. I’ve taken a particular liking to Akeyo, which is a bitter boiled green, and kal, which is a 1kg hunk of hot millet. I’ve perfected the art of eating the millet, which entails grabbing a handful rolling it into a ball, indenting the center into a bowl like shape and scooping up stew in it. While its fairly straightforward, its filling and hearty.

I have also visited Lakwatomer where I made good friends with a man by the name of Atudu who showed me through his fields of various crops and the local school before asking me for a vocational school and a lawn mower. It’s hard to perceive general interest and camaraderie from the strong desire to be given something. The man was also quite fixated on camera and insisted that I leave it with him. After talking to him for some time I came to believe that he had likely fought with the LRA during the war because he referenced several times serving and his profound duty to the Acholi people at one point lifting an imaginary gun into the air to support his claim that he would undoubtedly fight to preserve Acholiland. Jackie addressed a group of over thirty boys and girls on adolescent sexual reproductive health and while she did little to include me, my new found “friend” eloquently translated pretty a great deal of things, juvenilely enjoying the opportunity to use words related to sex.

Most recently I have been working on budgeting for the projects that the GlobeMed group hopes to fund. We are thinking of funding a goat lending project, a jewelry making activity for HAU children that would function doubly as a potential fundraising opportunity for next year at UNC, mama kits that serve to help HIV positive mothers deliver there children safely at home and a TB education and testing project. The group of four ran into our first real problem as we differed in our approaches and desired applications of the resources we have at our disposal.

Perhaps more than I have ever experienced, the state of Gulu and the way by which western relief efforts operate here keep me thinking constantly. Similarly, never have I felt so “out of place” so to speak. Seeing another westerner is something that happens two to three times a day. Yet things like being called “white man” are not by any means degrading and only show the curious nature of the kids that yell it. Gulu is very safe and everyone is appreciative of the work we are doing with HAU. There remains a deep reliance on handouts from western relief agencies that is the most frustrating thing imaginable. Being asked as a nineteen year old to build a school or marry a daughter strictly because of my color and perceived status is at times embarrassing and difficult to confront. Yet I’ve definitely been enjoying my work and the place because it is extremely challenging and forces me to confront a number of theoretical issues that classes and discussions can only scratch the surface of.

In the next few days we will be finalizing our project proposals and approving projects and getting to work more intimately with individuals in the community. So far we have only just begun and I am definitely looking forward to everything that is to come.