A Modest Attempt at Summarizing My Time in Gulu

I know I haven’t exactly been a saint at keeping up with my blog, but still I felt the need to write a final entry to attempt to sum up my time here (even though that would be impossible). I hate reading sappy blogs about how much you loved the sunset and the people and the kids and how much you hate to be leaving and can’t wait to return. And I hate writing blogs like that even more. As much as that may be true, does anyone really want to read your sentimental mess? So... I’ll condense my sappiness into a list. Yes, it gets a little cheesy in the “Things I won’t forget” section, but allow me a little cheese, please. You’ll see I’ve compiled three lists: things I learned, things I won’t forget, and things I want to forget. I’m not going to sugar coat it and pretend that every day on this trip was the best day of my life. So you get to hear about some of the bad days, too. But I hope you’ll notice that “things I learned” and “things I won’t forget” far outnumber the list of “things I want to forget.”

Things I learned
• How to strategically walk through the dry mud after a rain shower
• How to successfully hail a boda and get the right price
• How to speak a little bit of Luo
• The grueling process of getting funding for your project
• The grueling process of transcribing interviews
• How to conduct an interview
• How to cook chapati, greens with eggs, cabbage, and stewed chicken
• How to clean like an Acholi woman (still not good at it, though, so don’t worry)
• If you want to go somewhere in Kampala that’s only 11 km away, plan for 2 hours of travel time
• How to plan my day around the impending rain showers
• I love roasted pork. I just love it.
• The appropriate times to use “Apwoyo,” “Apwoyo-ba,” and “Apwoyo-rii ba”
• Most cats here are NOT nice and neither are the dogs
• How to kill a chicken
• It is not easy to find a house in Gulu, and once you do you’ll probably have children peeping in your windows in your new neighborhood
• Publishing a comic book is difficult... until you remember the resources at your disposal and send out a mass email
• When you’re putting on a concert for a fundraiser (FUNDRAISER), you still have to let in all the artists and their buddies for free
• The proper channels of bureaucracy at Gulu University and what happens when you don’t follow the bureaucratic rules
• I am addicted to Coca-Cola
• Self-directed research is not easy, and it’s even intimidating at times
• How to convert meters into feet, kilometers into miles, liters into cups, etc.

OurJuly 4th dinner..... before it was cooked.

Our beautiful stack of perfect chapati.

Things I won’t forget
• All the sunrises and sunsets I had the honor of witnessing
• The big, BIG sky
• The long rides I spent looking out the window and being amazed at where I was
• All the friends I’ve met
• Dinners out at our favorite restaurants in town (Sankofa, Tom’s, MealTime, Bomah, Indian, Ethiopian, etc.)
• Interviewing residents of Gwengdiya Parish in Awach Sub-County
• Interviewing women in Aworanga (and having dinner there!)
• Traveling to Madi-Opei – a village on the border of Sudan and climbing the mountain
• Traveling to Baker’s Fort (and the unexpected lonnnnnng car ride)
• Killing the chicken (see: Things I want to forget)
• Our July 4th Celebration
• The wonderful weekend vacation in Jinja, the boat ride on the Nile, and the untamed rapids around the islands
• The weeks I spent working with Pincer
• The moment I read the kids evaluations from CreatEd and felt like we had actually accomplished something worthwhile
• Alll the lunches at pork joints around town trying to discover the best one (it’s the one by Independent Hospital, by the way. Pieces of pork fried with tomatoes, onions, cabbage, Irish potatoes and Royco.... yes, please!)
• Traveling to Entebbe with Andrew and Jayanni to see the beaches – Lake Victoria is beautiful!
• Foot-bowling on July 4th
• CreatEd classes at Koro Secondary School and Gulu High School and watching the kids really get excited about something
• Early morning Luo lessons in Phoebe’s apartment
• The energy, excitement, and joy you can see when people are really performing traditional dances
• Reading Eat.Pray.Love
• Girls’ night at Bomah
• Watching the first appearance of the Gulu Elephants Rugby Team
• The day that Sankofa opened and I had a glorious pizza in Gulu
• Cooking traditional dinner with Sam, Jeff, and the girls
• Nights out in Gulu and Kampala and all the fun we had dancing until the early morning hours
• Hearing the call to prayer at the mosque at 5:00 and 5:30.... and at 6:00.
• Mango Season. Enough said.
• All the fun I had shopping for skirts, dresses, and crafts
• Seeing Chairman Mao (not the Chinese one) deliver his speech for the launch of his Presidential campaign at Bomah grounds in the rain
• Attending the wang’oo in Bungatira (and ALL the stars you could see in the sky!)
• Beatrice, Tom, and Milton and the rest of the wonderful team at Pincer

Forgot this one: the safari in Murchison Falls

View from the mountain in Madi-Opei. Why yes, that is Sudan.

Beautiful Lake Victoria!

Hippos in Murchison Falls

Cleaning the compound in Aworanga

Baker's Fort: Beautiful scenery with a tragic history.

And things I want to forget
• The all-hours traffic, boda men, and drunk men noise outside my bus park window
• Long bus rides
• Riding bodas home in the rain and the mud
• Cockroaches. Cockroaches. Cockroaches.
• Any and all overly dramatic moments that occurred between the months of January and August
• Killing the chicken (See: Things I won’t forget)
• Being bombarded by children every time we left the Pece house (and those same kids trying to steal things)
• That one time I tried to start jogging and almost got hit by a car, then was sore for a week
• The horrendously frustrating act of having to call school teachers every Tuesday and Friday to remind them that we ARE coming, only to sometimes find out that we can’t because of some program or other
• The July 11th bombings in Kampala and the paranoia that ensued
• Cold showers/Bucket showers
• The terrifying way your room can be dusty again the day after you cleaned it
• Sitting in various ticket booths for hours on end hoping we were making some money for Music for Peace

That chicken never stood a chance.

Just outside my apartment. A bus park full of men ready to call me "mzungu" at the first chance.

I think I have enough sentimental sap in my lists, but I just need to say that it’s a strange feeling. It’s strange how I’ve been here, building a life, a social network, a working network – and now, in just 5 short days I’ll be going back home. I’ll be reorganizing my days for my American schedule and my American timeframe and goals. I’ve been here so long that nothing feels unusual anymore. This is truly my second home, and it is devastating to know that I won’t be back here for a year. I have to say, though, there’s something about leaving that makes you oddly sentimental about your surroundings, and you start to look at everything again as if it was the first time you were seeing it. Things that used to annoy me on a daily basis now have the ability to make my day. So, with that said, thank you harassing boda men for making my last few days in Uganda so memorable.

Starting a New Routine

My last post talks about how concerned I am about making my research the best, and as thorough, as I possibly can. This is still very much the case. But I found through the course of my interviews that the stress I was feeling and the struggle of forcing my interest in the topic was making me miserable, which has led me to tweak (or detour) my research in a new direction. This new direction neither invalidates my previous research or builds on the topic of cultural revival, it takes the background from my previous interviews and picks out the specific point that piques my interest: women’s empowerment.

While this topic is certainly nothing new (there have been women’s empowerment programs for decades), its place in Acholi society is unique. First of all, the typical family structure prevents the woman from having much of a voice in decision making whether for the kids, how the money is spent, or where she lives. But for some women, this changed when organizations like the World Food Programme began distributing food in IDP Camps – just to women. This placed the women in positions of power, making them the breadwinners for the family, essentially reversing the traditional gender roles. Now that people are moving out of the camps, women want to maintain their status as the “breadwinner,” but many husbands feel threatened by this. In many cases, this shift has resulted in domestic, gender-based violence against women.

Another aspect is that of girls’ education. If a family has two children, a boy and a girl, but they don’t have enough money to send both to school, they will almost always send the boy and leave the girl at home. This is simply because eventually, the girl will be married and sent to live with her husband, and the family will have received nothing in return for spending money on her education. Several young women I have spoken with have said that the war was actually good for them. That it showed the people the importance of educating their girls.

Given that the wore has caused so much damage and trauma, can we look at these two areas and say that the war was actually beneficial for women, in a broad sense? And now that many organizations like CARE International and ACORD are directly targeting women for economic development projects, how are they training communities and husbands and children on the importance of women’s empowerment? How are they affecting the cultural structure for gender roles? Should they be changing cultural practices?

These are all questions I will attempt to confront in the next few months. I had planned to be finished with my research by tomorrow and then be able to close this chapter of this trip. But the thought of researching and writing a thesis on my previous topic for the next year made me miserable. Why, you might ask? It’s simple: As much as I admire Acholi cultural practices – the energetic dances, the colorful costumes, the unique music – I cannot be personally connected to it, and part of me feels that as an outsider, I shouldn’t be. But for women’s empowerment – I feel that womanhood transcends cultural boundaries. No matter where I am in the world, I can find and relate to women and I can truly sympathize with what they’re going through. I’m not saying that I have ever been through anything that most of these women have experienced – death, kidnapping, rape, murder, devastating loss, decades of war. But I do know what it’s like to grow up as a woman, constantly fighting the stereotypes and societal rules placed upon our gender. And in this sense, I feel that I can have a personal connection with my research. I can read these articles all day, every day, and I can interview participants on such a more intimate level. In short, I can be passionate about it. My interest in this has even led me to consider a graduate degree in women’s studies and explore job opportunities and internships with CARE.

So for the next few months, I will probably be outrageously busy conducting my research, working on CreatEd, and getting the first cartoon published. My research should take 2-3 days a week. CreatEd kicks off with some serious organizational meetings on the 19th, and the program begins in schools on June 1st, so I’ll be with CreatEd 2-3 days a week at that point. Then we have the cartoon project (I saw Vinny’s cartoons today, and this thing is going to be so great!). Soon, the artists will be editing in Adobe Photoshop, and I’ll be traveling around Gulu and Kampala begging for grants or partnerships and seeking out the right publisher.

To summarize: Think I’m on vacation, now?

Throw Down Your Heart

I like to have a schedule. I like to know that I’m going to start with A, take a break and work on B, then finish with C, knowing that by the end of all my work I will have accomplished something worthwhile. I don’t necessarily like being committed to time slots; I still like to go with the flow of things. But I want to have the structure.

But here, I never know what I’m going to do when I wake up in the morning. Sure I might have an interview scheduled, but as soon as that interview’s over I have to have something else to do. I have to constantly be striving for the next interview, the next chance to observe, the next chance to travel to a village.

And it’s exhausting.

I try to relax and remind myself over and over again that I will find something to do – something incredible and educational will happen. But it’s so hard sometimes.

For example, I’ve been trying to meet with the Paramount Chief for weeks now. I’ve met several people around his office and interviewed many of them and made some really worthwhile connections. One of these being with the Ker Kal Kwaro Acholi Cultural Group, which is a group of young people that get together each week to practice Acholi dances. I interviewed their leaders, and I was invited to join them for practice on Sunday.

The practice started out slowly. I was told to arrive at 3:00 pm, and for some reason I decided to show up on time, even though I knew better. The only people there were the kids, and we were simply waiting for the adults to show up so the real practice could start. But while we waited, a group of about 30 children under the age of 10 started practicing their own dances. The little boys played rhythms on the drums while other boys and girls performed the carefully practiced courtship dance. It wasn’t perfect, no – they were practicing after all. But these children didn’t have an adult coach that was telling them to stop when something wasn’t right or directing their missteps. Their coach was a 7 year old boy who directed all the other children with confidence and ease. And the children listened to him, and they danced and enjoyed themselves – totally self-directed. Their parents may have taken them to the center to learn, but they poured their whole hearts into it on their own.

I had this experience by accident. I was invited to join this dance group in the process of looking for something else. The truth is, it scares me when I wake up on Monday morning and don’t know what my week or even my day will look like. I’m afraid that if I don’t get out there, I’ll miss talking to a key informant or I’ll miss an opportunity for visiting a village. I want my research to be the best it can be. I want to finish in May and know that I did the best I could. That I looked under every rock I could find to dig up information.

There have been enough people in this town conducting research that amounts to nothing. Will my research amount to nothing? And not just for my own self-gratification. I’m intruding on peoples’ privacy. I go to their homes and ask them questions about their personal lives, and in some cases my visit brings hope for a better future, regardless of the fact that I’m powerless to change anyone’s future here. Will all of this be for nothing? If I don’t do the best job I can, I’m letting all of these people down. I owe it to everyone I interview and everyone I will interview, every life that I touch.

That’s why I wake up stressed on Monday. I want to do my best to honor the contribution of all of my friends that have contributed and the professors that have guided me.

But I know that almost every Monday, I wake up and receive a phone call or I take my own initiative to visit a place. And that is when I usually have the best experiences and meet the best people. It takes a lot of faith to not know what’s going to happen next. It even terrifies me, sometimes.

But if I continue to stand on the edge of my comfort and refuse to jump, my feet won’t land on anything at all because they never even left the ground.

Gulu is helping me to find beauty in the unexpected.

“All these problems just disappear because I have other things in my mind now.”

I know, I know, I haven’t updated in a month and a half. I could try to update you, in-depth, on everything that’s happened between then and now, but we just don’t have that kind of space here. So take these quick briefings along with a sincere apology. The bulk of this post is about the incredibly educational experience I had in a small village in Awach sub-county.

I started volunteering for the Pincer Group International, Ltd. They have a GREAT team, both in Gulu and Kampala. They’re basically a research think-tank. Jay and I were working on transcribing their focus group interviews and analyzing the data. Though we aren’t necessarily qualified or trained in analyzing data, our insights were earnestly offered as a possible fresh perspective to the situation. Though I learned a lot from this work, I soon realized it was distracting my from my research and other projects and that I needed to take a break from it. I haven’t been working there for a week or so now, and I’ve felt extremely freed up.

The cartoon project is well underway. We had a meeting with everyone a couple of weeks ago, and we all agreed on the need for a deadline. We are now working on producing the first cartoon, which will then be published and presented to organizations (along with the concept paper I’m writing) that could possibly provide funding. I’m REALLY excited to see this project continue. There’s so many steps it could go through, it could honestly keep me busy for several years. Major funding anyone? Job after college? Possibilities....

Speaking of time after college, in building my schedule for next semester, I discovered that I could graduate by May if I build my schedule correctly. (Which means I graduate on time!!!!!) I’ll take 18 hours this semester, pray that I can fit in my last gen ed requirement next semester and then fill in the rest of my distribution requirements while writing my thesis! After that I’ll..... come back here to find a job? Work on the cartoon project?

There’s a possibility I could come back here with a group of UT students. While Dr. Hackett and Dr. Hepner were here, they got things started for a summer program at Gulu University for UT students. Around 12 students would come over, go through an intensive 2 week course at the university with various, top-notch professors. Then the students will volunteer with various organizations for four weeks. The idea is international service-learning. They will be working in areas pertaining to their respective majors, offering the help they can, and learning a great deal from the experience. I had considered applying as a student, but I’ll be graduated by then, so maybe there would be an opportunity as a group leader? We’ll see. Right now, though, I’m pretty sure I’ll come back here to get a job for a year or two before I go to grad school. I don’t feel like I’ll be ready to go to grad school as soon as I get my Bachelor’s. I don’t know what I’d study. Plus, working abroad for a few years could give me the upper hand on the whole application process.

The UT/GU meetings were only one small part of the Profs’ visit. We also met with Dr. Betty Udongo, Tom and Milton from Pincer, all of the GU staff, and the Anglican Bishop. We can’t forget the great trip we had to Kitgum to visit Bishop Ochola or the meeting we had with Norbert Mao, LC V Chairman for Gulu District and 2011 Presidential Candidate. It was quite a busy week, to say the least. It all just seems to be a fast-forwarding blur in my head of meetings and dinners and car rides in the small backseat with everyone’s stuff. But we got a lot accomplished and came away with a new focus on our projects and new angles to research.

We’ve been learning Luo lately, and it’s going surprisingly well. If I just study my vocab more intensely, I could actually hold a conversation with someone. We’re driving our friends nuts because we’re constantly stumbling over pronunciations and verb tenses trying to talk to them. Or, they say something and we immediately ask them what they said and how to say it. Their patience so far has been remarkable, which is great because we need to practice to be fluent. I’m just imagine one day putting on my resume, can speak fluent English, Luo, and conversational French :)

For the important part of my trip for now, the research is trucking along. I met with a girl at the cultural institution and she’s making a meeting for me with the Paramount Chief. I’ve also been talking with a close friend of JfJ, George Piwang, who has his hand in some cultural revival programs. Recently, I went to a village in a sub-county of Gulu District and conducted some really interesting interviews. The villagers had almost all been abducted at some point, and now they have returned to this village and formed this dance group from their own initiative. When asked how the dance makes them feel, every participant responded with something along the lines of the title of this post. Everyone felt that they forgot their trauma while they danced and interacted with others in their village.

Everyone was really great and participatory. I was warmly welcomed. But I left with a feeling of guilt because everyone put more hope in my ability to help them than I could explain away. No matter how many times you say that you are simply a powerless university student, you are from the outside. And that means that people outside their village know that they are there and suffering. And that knowledge brings with it a certain expectation. How am I supposed to stand in front of a group of 30 people and explain to them that I actually don’t have the power or the money to bring them to U.S.? That I probably can’t rally the support or funds at home to pay for the orphans’ education? How do you answer those questions?

I need to go to other villages that have had something to do with cultural revival programs because their opinions are invaluable. Their opinions are the deciding factor for the results of the project and for the future of their community. But at the same time, I’m afraid because I don’t want to have to sidestep any more requests for visits to America. Because when this happens, I can literally see that so many people have placed so much hope in my visit, but only I know that that hope is misplaced. That I actually have very little power to help them out of their situation. That no matter how much I want to pay for their kids’ school fees, I know I can’t. But I have to go to other villages. I have to get more opinions. I need to document their existence in this entire web of post-conflict reconstruction that encompasses every aspect of life here.

Change of topic: I need to say APWOYO MATEK to my parents for sending me the care package!!! It arrived on time and in good condition. You should all copy their example and do the same :) Or you could just send me an email telling me about your life. I would really love to hear from you.

Other news: I now a master crafter of spiced African tea. Our house still has a lot of cockroaches and no water. Rainy seasons means it’s blazing hot all day and rains in the evening. We have some very mischievous, 3-foot tall peeping toms running around our compound. I have 4 months left, yet I feel my time is running short. We’re planning a trip to Rwanda soon to renew our 90 day visas, and we want to be tourists in that beautiful country. I need to brush up on my French. I miss chocolate chip cookies. Our friend is opening up a real café in town. I want to adopt one of our neighbor’s kittens. I’m sad I couldn’t watch the livestream of K’naan’s concert last night. His song, Wavin’ Flag is starting to be realllly popular here. It’s almost mango season, and it makes me really sad to see the mango tree they cut down outside our house to make room for the fence. I miss everyone at home.

Apwoyo matek. Wa nen!

"The war has made our people lousy."

I knew the day would be busy, as I had scheduled several meetings and packed my schedule more than is wise to do in Gulu. But I had no idea what was in store for me that evening.

My first meeting of the day was with Robinson Obot, the District Inspector of Schools for Gulu District. We then met with the Dean of Students at Gulu University to discuss several things. After that, we met with a man named Julius who might be a research assistant for us.

My fourth meeting was with Victor of the War Affected Children’s Association (WACA). I had heard a lot about WACA and was hoping to secure a volunteer position with them or at least observe some of their programs. Victor was really nice and generous, and he started telling me all about WACA’s programs. It was founded in 2002 by people who were formerly abducted by the LRA, and it’s funded by Trustfund for Victims, which is a branch of the ICC. They have 3 components: economic empowerment, vocational training, and psychosocial support. Part of the last component is training in cultural dances. Former abductees between the ages of 19 and 30 gather together with an instructor to learn or realearn Acholi dances, and WACA provides funding for the costumes. I was invited to join Victor on a trip to Awac subcounty this Saturday to observe the dances and see some small skits.

After this we picked up some furniture for our house (I’m currently sitting at our HUGE new table and business chairs). Then we had a rendez-vous with the Pincer Group’s Gulu Office. We met Beatrice, Charles, and even Tom was there from the Kampala office. We told Beatrice we might like some volunteer positions with Pincer, so she asked us what our research is. Pincer used to work mainly with education, but now they have changed their programs a bit and work a lot with peace education. They say they unpack the “Peace” in the PRDP (Peace Recovery and Development Plan). They actually run or work with a lot of programs that have to do with cultural reinvigoration and she seemed optimistic that I would really be able to work with Pincer and have a volunteer position for my stay here.

You can see that this day improved as we went on, and now this is the awesome part. One of Pincer’s programs, run by Geore PiWang, is to encourage the reintroduction of Wango’o. When you read about Wango’o, you’ll learn that it’s an Acholi tradition of storytelling by the fireside at night. Traditionally, the grandfathers and elders would impart knowledge to the youth in a group of no more than 20 people. Before the war, people lived in family units in their villages where their families had owned land for a very long time. So everyone in the Wango’o knew each other very well, and everyone knew what was going on in the community. Because of the dangers of being out at night and the forced displacement into camps, this tradition was discontinued. Most young people we know have never been to a Wango’o, but if they had grown up before the war, they would have attended one almost every night. And out of our great friendship with Pincer, we had an invitation to attend the reintroduction of Wango’o in a village outside Gulu. I can honestly say it was one of the most enlightening experiences I have ever had in Uganda.

We drove out for maybe 15 minutes, and Tom explained to us along the way that really Wango’o is for men while women have their own kind of meeting. When we arrived, we found around 15 people of all ages, men and women, sitting around a small fire. The men were in chairs while the women sat on mats on the ground. They started out with introductions, and we were warmly welcomed to their homes. We learned that these men were the cultural leaders of this area.

George asked several people to offer up their definition of Wango’o. Since it’s been gone for so long, it was good to discuss what it’s meant to be. This didn’t actually turn out to be how a Wango’o would be before the war. It was more of a discussion of what it was, what it should be, how it can be adapted, what the war has done to traditions, and how the war has affected different generations.

Most people believed that things are too different now to really, truly go back to the way it was. The war has introduced a lot of young people to town life, and they are no longer content to go back to their villages and sit and listen to the elders at night. Advice is no longer accepted, and they no longer have a handle on all the happenings in their community. The young people in the meeting, who were just a little over 20 years old, believe they missed out on huge parts of their culture, and that the war has killed their culture. Traditions like Wango’o seem to be too out of touch, and the people believe that morality is too far gone to return to these traditions.

At the same time, though, they believe these traditions need to be reinstated in order to empower the people. One of the elders even said, “The war has made our people lousy.” After this he lamented that before the war, northerners could be found in universities all over the country. But now, very few go to university at all, even to schools in the north. He believes the people are disempowered from years of relying on food donations and government protection in the camps. They feel imprisoned in their situation. He recommended that the cultures be strengthened again, and then the Acholi will be able to continue growing and producing, as they had been.

No one knew how to strengthen the culture, though. The elders believe the youth need to be more interested in the traditions and settle down a bit. And the youth believe the elders need to push more for having the traditions returned – they need to be stronger because right now the youth have no faith in them.

But then the elders even admitted that they can’t operate at their full potential because of the way the government is. They say they are not independent or empowered and that it will take a long time to return. Without people that can restore it to its full potential, children won’t receive these values. They said that they are crying that the cultural institutions come back in their full potential.

There were so many more elements to this meeting to discuss, but I could dissect every aspect of it for hours. It was so interesting because, while it wasn’t Wango’o the way it’s meant to be, it did bring together a small group of people and they had real multi generational dialogue about their culture, their lives, the war, etc. Everyone was chomping at the bit to speak their part, and everyone had their own point of view. Even the women, who normally sit quietly in meetings like this, spoke very strongly. It displayed the huge struggle left for northern Uganda, but I think it also showed a step towards peace and normalcy. It also showed the struggle facing cultural leaders – how do you go back to what you know when so much has changed in such a violent way? How can you reconcile traditional culture with a contemporary society?

I looked up in perfect silence at the stars.

Disclaimer: As you know, I haven’t updated my blog in 2 weeks, and we’ve done A LOT of stuff in between then and now. So this may not be a full review of the last 2 weeks. And it’s not very organized. But it’s just kind of a highlight reel of some of my experiences and thoughts. Enjoy :)

Today is the first day it has rained in Uganda since we’ve been here, which is appropriate since it’s the dry season. I awoke this morning to the sound of rumbling thunder shaking the entire house, and despite the fact that the rain has ruined our laundry plans, we’re enjoying the respite from the blazing sun and welcoming the refreshing breeze coming through the house.

This is our last weekend in Kampala before we make our official move to Gulu. We’ve been here a little over two weeks, and it’s time to get started on our work. I always have a certain excitement mixed with anxiety when I head to the north. But this time, it’s compounded with the knowledge of all the things I have to get in order in such a short amount of time. I’m excited because I love Gulu, and it’s such a nice change from Kampala. Gulu is small enough to walk everywhere, and it’s a booming little town because of all the international aid workers currently residing there (what happens when they leave is a topic for another time). It’s much friendlier than Kampala, and we don’t have to map out our day by figuring out which matatus to take into the city, how much traffic we’ll encounter, and how much time it will take. All of these facts are not to mention that’s where I focus all of my energies be it learning, researching, or fundraising. I’m always doing or thinking about something that has to do with northern Uganda.

But then there’s the anxiety. Foremost is the fact that you’re removing yourself from the big city. Kampala makes you still feel very much connected to the world, but Gulu is disconnected even from Kampala, much less the rest of the world. But besides that, I woke up this morning, and everything I need to do just started running laps through my head. First things first, we need a house. We’re planning to stay in a hotel for a couple of days and look at our options. But that is all we have time to do. We have to look at all the houses we can and just decide. We’re hoping for a 3 bedroom furnished house, but we have no idea if we’ll be able to find one. Then we need Internet and maybe appliances for our house. We have to figure out who’s staying where.

Let’s forget about accommodations for a second. We have serious work to do. Luckily we’ve had a very productive meeting with Pincer Group, where they offered their workspace to use. But I’m a little more stressed because the organizations I’m looking at are going to be much smaller. And I have to look for these groups. I know of a few, but right now I’m just feeling the anxiety of the unknown. I have NO clue what the next few months of my life will look like or where my research will lead me. And part of my research is getting the cartoon project together, which can ideally be published and distributed very soon. But everyone’s just so busy. I guess I just need to talk to people, and realize that it will all come together. Maybe not at the time I expect or the way I expect it to happen – but I will learn a lot, and I will grow.

This trip has been very strange so far. I think Jayanni has heard me say countless times, “Well, I’ve never had that happen to me before.” We’ve met a huge variety of people in our travels throughout the central region, and never before have I been asked by so many people, “Why?” Why do you go to the north? Why do you come to Uganda so much? Why aren’t you scared to go to Gulu? Most of the time I just shrug my shoulders and tell them I can’t really explain why I love it here so much. It’s a much more difficult question to answer than one would think. I can’t come up with a simple, generic answer like, “I love the people,” or, “I love the weather and the scenery.” Nothing is that simple. I do love the generally friendly nature of people here, but notice I said generally. I spend the time navigating through Kampala trying not to get cheated. It’s tiring. My frustrations, though, are grounded by the knowledge that I only get cheated because money is such an issue here. And sure, I love the weather. Summer is my favorite season at home. But at times, I hate the heat. It can be unbearable. So why do I love Uganda? Because it’s more real than my sheltered suburb at home. Maybe I love it here because this is life. Daily, I see the struggles of street children and beggars just trying to make it through a few more days. And daily, I see the joy of people who have managed to make an honest, decent living here. Life here is hard. There’s no doubt about that. But maybe life here, as opposed to my life as a college student where my biggest challenge is writing my thesis, is more fulfilling – the successes and achievements are more important, but the failures and disappointments are that much more devastating.

We’ve also been witnessing a lot of interesting politics. We can’t really talk about the Anti-Homosexuality Bill because it’s such a hot topic, but it has been interesting to see the reaction to Obama’s speech in which he condemns it. Most people think he should stay out of it.

We also witnessed the 24^th anniversary of the current government winning power by military coup. NRM Day. Maybe 20 years ago it was widely celebrated. But even throughout the central region, where Museveni has his greatest support, very few people turned up to celebrate. The ones that did show up were paid to be there. They also recently celebrated the start of Museveni’s movement in 1981. To celebrate, some UPDF soldiers cleaned a bathroom and fixed the toilets at a poor school. Is someone trying to improve their public image?

I think we’re witnessing Museveni’s fall from power. But what scares me is that he will not give up that power easily. Even people who were once his avid supporters agree he has been in power for too long. They say there are only so many new ideas you can have as a leader before you’re outdated and you need to pass on the torch. If he “wins” in 2011, based on the general consensus I’m witnessing now from talking to friends and reading the newspapers, there’s a good chance it will have been rigged. And nothing good will come if that suspicion spreads. This is certainly an interesting time for politics in this country.

I know I haven’t updated anyone in a long time. Sorry about that. You all know I’m bad about keeping up with my blog. But I’ll give you a little overview of what we’ve been up to. We’ve met with Cathy PiWang of Childreach Africa. We met with Bishop Ochola the day before he left for the Democratic Republic of Congo with Archbishop Odama to meet with the rebels about peace talks. He told us a lot about his current project, the Acholi Education Initiative. They’ll be fundraising in North America and Europe in order to provide university scholarships to promising young students from the north in order to produce entrepreneurs from the region. His fear is that if the Acholi are continually marginalized and uneducated, unable to stand on their own, then another war will break out.

We had a great meeting with the Pincer Group. They’re an education consultant agency, which means they draft reports, proposals, and grants for other organizations that don’t have the means or the know-how. They believe the community needs to be empowered in order for the Acholi people to demand better education, healthcare, etc. And what will it take for them to be empowered? One theory of mine is that one mode could be cultural reinvigoration programs. I’m seeing that people associate peaceful times with the return to the traditions and rituals they had before the war. Maybe this return could lead to community building, maybe a return to their identity as the Acholi people, that could lead to empowerment. I’ll let you know how this idea develops.

On the fun side of things, we’ve been all over the place. We just recently returned from Murchison Falls, the most powerful waterfall on the Nile. Breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful. We went on a safari game drive, a boat trip down the Nile, and a hike to the top of the falls. We saw a lioness, all kinds of antelope, giraffes, elephants (mating elephants, yikes!), crocodiles, hippos EVERYWHERE, warthogs, etc. It’s a really nice park, and a really great game reserve. The trip was incredibly touristy, but I just tried to let go of my pride for a bit and enjoy it. We’ve also been able to visit Jinja, Entebbe, places all over Kampala. We’ve made a lot of new friends, and spent some quality time with old ones. We’ve really enjoyed these couple of weeks, but we’re ready to get down to work. I’ll let you know how our journey to Gulu goes, and what happens with our house situation. Expect another update in the next week or so? Wish us luck!

Sideways?

Third times a charm?

I made the drive from Entebbe to Kampala for the third time last night, and I can honestly say that each time it has felt different. The first time, I was overwhelmed by the new world I had found myself in. Everything was different from what I knew or expected. The second time, I was extremely excited to be back. I hadn't spent much time in Uganda before, and there were many new experiences for me to have - especially since I wasn't traveling in a group. But this time, I stepped off the plane and walked across the tarmac at Entebbe Airport, breathing in the familiar musty smell of Uganda, and felt extremely at home. I was picked up from the airport by friends, and I didn't find myself marveling at the sights along the way. I found myself knowing exactly where I was and where I was going. I had heard that after you've been a few times, it's not as exotic anymore (naturally). It was disappointing to hear on my first time here. I didn't think I would ever stop marveling at some things. But now, I see it as growth. I've learned my surroundings. I know how to get around. If I saw the same things and reacted the same way every time, I wouldn't be learning, would I? I'm thrilled to be here, but it's just amazing how I kind of still feel just as comfortable as if I were still at home in Knoxville.

I'll be spending my semester here, plus some extra time until August conducting research for my senior thesis at the University of Tennessee. We'll be in Kampala for a few weeks and then head to Gulu where we'll be renting our own house. I'm joined by another student from the University of Tennessee, Jayanni Webster. This is her first time in Uganda, and she's doing great so far. She'll also be doing research in Gulu until May. First time I'll be living without a host family for a really long amount of time. I think it will be really interesting and really great.

We spent the day negotiating Kampala(Jay had to deal with my rusty directional skills). We went to all of the big places, and almost took a trip into Old Kampala but we got out of the taxi just in time. We went by the Sheraton to buy a phone for Jay, but unfortunately Barnabus wasn't there. We can try again, though. Then we went by the National Theater, and Jay has a great story to start off her trip. I'll let her tell it, but let's just say it was really convenient that the market was nearby and there was a woman selling shoes. We called Vinny and discovered he was in Kampala. His response to the phone call? "I didn't know you were here!" We can't wait to meet up with him.

We're just killing some time and taking everything in for now. There's a contemporary dance performance at the National Theater tonight that we're going to try to go to if we can fight our jet lag long enough. Until then, we're just going to enjoy being in Kampala.