a homestead around Gulu

Until this weekend, my image of Uganda was shaped by my time in Kampala, where 4.8% of Ugandans reside.  I’m aware that the vast majority of Ugandans (89%) live in rural villages.  But my excursions with API last summer to Western and Northeastern Uganda were somewhat sheltered, since I returned each night to a city and stayed in respectable hotels.  Moreover, I was aware that the longest running civil war in Africa was in Northwestern Uganda, but my experiences were only second-hand.

After spending a mere 24 hours in Gulu district, the hub of war-torn Northwestern Uganda, my image of Uganda has vastly changed.

It’s the last weekend that the AIESEC Yale interns are here, and two of them (Joan and Julia, plus Mirta from Holland) had taken huge initiative in planning a visit to Gulu this weekend.  I also recently met David, another Fulbright scholar, who is doing his field research in villages around Gulu.  Plans quickly coalesced, and I jumped on a 7am bus on Saturday to make the 6.5 hour ride from Kampala to Gulu.

I spent less than an hour in Gulu itself – the city has experienced rapid construction and development as scores of NGOs establish headquarters there, so as to serve the war-torn region.  After taking a delicious meal of boo (leafy green vegetables stewed in sesame sauce) with rice and posho (maize-flour paste), I met David who took us to an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp.

The IDP camp was an hour away by boda-boda (hired motorcycle driver).  Joan and I squeezed onto the back of the boda, each with a large backpack.  We sped out from the city on a bumpy dirt road.  We maintained a great conversation that took my mind off the discomfort, as the rear handle of the boda was knocking my tailbone with every bump.  We didn’t notice until the end of the ride that we were disadvantaged to be in the rear, picking up all of the others’ dust:

Me and Joan, shocked and soiled after a one-hour boda ride to the IDP camp

We had the chance to accompany David on his field research, which studies people returning from IDP camps to their village to re-start farming.  The economic markets are understandably wrecked by the war, but the shattered social relationships have an even deeper effect on the collaborative farming structure.  Factors like “trust” within the group are essential for the livelihood of the community. 

On Saturday, we accompanied him for an interview with a newly-formed farming collective.  He was assisted by Francis and Stephen, two research assistants who belong to the local tribe (Acholi) and could translate for us.  The farming group was particularly interesting, since it was all women (including a chair-lady, secretary, and treasurer), although Acholi culture traditionally has strict gender roles where only men do farming.  I feared to ask, but I imagine that the men in that part of the village were killed in the war, and that gender roles were evolving to enable survival.

The group clapped heartily as we each introduced ourselves (aided by the translators) to show their respect.  An old man from the village also attended the group interview, and he provided humorous anecdotes during the interview.  I couldn’t help thinking that his humor was a key factor in surviving the war.  Of the women, almost half of them were holding babies that they periodically breast-fed during the interview.  After David’s questions were finished, I asked one more - “what are your dreams for your children?”  They responded simply, “better education and health care,” … mothers’ dreams can be so universal.

Farming group formed by people returning from IDP camps

After the interview, it was getting dark.  But to be respectful, we stayed to eat the gift of corn from the farming group.  They also gave us a live chicken, which is of substantial value in the North.  Then the three girls took off to the lodge in the nearby IDP camp, while David, his two research assistants, and I started walking to the homestead where we’d spend the night.

It was at that point that David told me we had a “long walk through the jungle” ahead, and to watch out for ants, snakes, and land-mines.  With my cell phone in the left hand to provide some light, and my right arm up to block branches from hitting my face, we were off.  The walk lasted over an hour, and we passed through many other homesteads along the path through the bush.  At most homesteads, we greeted the inhabitants in Luo (the Acholi language).  David pointed out one homestead where the husband was always substantially drunk, and that he would keep you for hours unless you briskly continued along the path.  I was astonished that each homestead was 15 to 20 minutes apart by walking, and the village still maintained a sense of community across so many acres.

When I reached our village homestead, I realized why the girls couldn’t join us to spend the night.  The women of the homestead had made a campfire for us, and had cooked a very nice meal.  The men sat around and ate the food from a communal tray with our hands.  I asked if the women had already eaten, and I learned that they usually take the men’s leftovers.  That night, the women also set up my sleeping bag on the floor of the hut, and strung up the mosquito net.  They also heated water in a bucket for us to bathe.  I was very uncomfortable with the gender roles, but it would have been arrogant to raise the issue during my one day as a guest.

The inside of the hut where the four of us spent the night, in the homestead.

There was a dog in the homestead to help with hunting and security … but it behaved poorly.  It would come up as we were eating, and the men would stomp or slap it away.  Later on, the dog somehow got aggressive and snarled at one of the children in the homestead.  Francis immediately grabbed the cool end of a burning log and threw it at the dog.  The dog yelped upon impact with the embers and sulked away.  I was surprised by this harshness, but it’s a natural part of surviving in the village.

After dinner, the men gathered around the campfire, and out came the little plastic sachets of local rum from sugarcane.  Each 100 mL sachet goes for 15 cents, which partially explains why agencies have ranked Uganda as number one in the world for per-capita alcohol consumption.  David, Stephen, Francis, and I all took ample rum, throwing the empty sachets into the campfire to watch the plastic curl and burn.  With the silence of the village surrounding us, the conversation wasn’t as boisterous as I’d expect in a bar with loud music.  But nonetheless, there were many stories exchanged, and I learned a lot of Stephen and Francis’ backgrounds since leaving Acholi land while young to avoid the war.  As the night went on, the thick blanket of stars got consistently brighter, with wisps of the milky way visible. 

We all rapidly fell asleep after the drinks, but not before the others’ warned me of the large rats that frequently visit the hut to nibble on your ears at night.  I wasn’t phased, and luckily none of us suffered from rats that night.  We awoke before sunrise to start a new day of field research.  Just as I was finishing my warm bucket-shower, it began to rain – an utterly invigorating feeling.  We decided to postpone our movement until after the rain passed.  The rain was short, but the homestead members made a point to thank me, the visitor, for bringing with me much-needed rain for the field.

The homestead during the rainy morning.

We reviewed the survey questionnaire in the hut during the rain, to make sure Francis and Stephen had standard methods when they were independently interviewing households.  Then once the rain subsided, we started on another one-hour walk to reach the homestead that had been randomly selected for that day’s interviews.

Walking through the bush at morning to reach the other homesteads.

A rock outcrop along the path, which was a strategic military point during the war.

The interviews at the next homestead were especially interesting, since I heard (translated) stories of how the war had made people lose trust in their village community and prevented them from forming cooperatives.  I was also astonished at how people supported themselves, since the drought last year eliminated most crops.  The single largest income for the families I met was charcoal, which they produce from trees they chop down in the forest.  This was sobering, as I’m currently working on a grant application to introduce bio-briquettes into rural communities to boost environmental sustainability.  I’m now aware of the potential societal impacts of stripping people of their only livelihood when their crops fail.

All in all, it was tremendously eye-opening to visit the homesteads.  I admire David for spending a majority of this year in villages around Gulu to collect this data.  Although he’s also from the Midwest, I was pleased to listen to how he’s adopted vocabulary, sentence structure, and vocal intonations to better communicate in Uganda – something I notice myself beginning to do.  He’s at the mid-point of his research project, where he’s collecting the bulk of the data, and it’s inspiring me to quicken my preparations for my own research.  There are clearly deep interpersonal connections created through his project, and I’m optimistic that I’ll be able to achieve something comparable, even from the chemistry lab.

general update

Again, it’s been long since I’ve posted.  Life here has been good, and here are some scattered anecdotes & updates.

I’ve completely recovered from my cold from last week.  Unfortunately, it’s now my laptop that has a virus.  All the swapping of USB flash drives puts the system at high risk, even though I’ve been careful with performing regular system scans.  I’m now moving toward giving people files by burning a CD (since email attachments take ridiculously long, and USB drives pose a virus threat).  The virus cripples my laptop when I’m trying to access internet, which is frustrating as I’m trying to catch up with online communication.  I’m seeing API’s computer specialist soon, and hope to get it resolved.

The opportunity to cook last weekend was amazing.  9 of us went to my friend’s aunt’s house on the outskirts of town, and we cooked up a feast.  The centerpiece was the esteemed Ugandan “rolex,” which is a chapatti + an omelet all rolled up.  This is the typical anytime meal-on-the-run of university students in Uganda, especially after a night of dancing.  But we spruced it up and produced these from scratch (the dough is only flour, water, and salt).  Now don’t you want to come to Uganda?

Only in Uganda:  the ever-satisfying rolex.

In other cooking news, I had the chance to make couscous that I brought from the U.S. for my friends around the hostel.  Although it’s the staple in Morocco and other North African countries, couscous is unheard of in Uganda … except I did find a 500 g box for $7 in the most posh supermarket – and this price is shocking considering that I get a full plate of food for $0.50.  Anyway, it was another fun occasion to gather around for good times.

Couscous dinner at the hostel.

I’ve been able to receive new interns from China and Nigeria in the last week, which has been especially rewarding.  They’re both fantastic people, and it’s fun to be able to play host in Uganda … makes me feel as though I’ve come a long way since last year.

I’ve also started some classes on nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) spectroscopy at the API office. 

The days as a T.A. for freshman orgo are really being put to good use.

On Friday morning, I got a phone call from the Uganda National Minister for Micro-Finance, which was a nice shock.  She was RSVP’ing for the closing event of the AIESEC project I’ve been helping to organize.  It’s nice to be working in a market where students’ efforts can be recognized by top authorities.

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to the First Lady of Uganda, Janet Museveni.  She’s the latest in a long list of meetings I’m trying to set up to build AIESEC partnerships.

More on that later.  Actually, I was out-of-commission for most of last weekend, since I picked up a cold.  I got the cough and fever checked out, but nothing serious.  I think I had weakened my immune system the day I sprayed my room with permethrin (a long-term mosquito repellant).  I managed to disband the throng of mosquitoes that had taken up residence in the dark corners of my closet.  It’s astounding how many of these micro-vampires are constantly around … but they’re no match for my mosquito net and newly permethrin-treated pajamas :)

     

Some shots of my side of the room … decorations coming soon.

I’ve found it hard to blog recently, because I have actually been socially over-stimulated.  It’s the Ugandan way to always have a long chat around “how are you? … how’s everything going?”  As such, I have ample time to reflect and process nearly everything that comes my way during conversations with friends.  So at least today, my blog is turning from being reflective to more anecdotal.

I’ve found a great alternative to the herbal tea I would take in the evenings while in the US.  Here I can buy 10 passion fruits for $0.50.  I simply cut one open, scoop out the juicy flesh & seeds, and pour hot water over.  Simply amazing.

I’ve finally gotten connected with a 3G internet modem for my laptop, so I theoretically have access anytime/anywhere.  My challenge is now to find time to use it, since my days have been packed with moving around town and having meetings from morning until 9pm.  Then to maintain balance between working and personal relationships with AIESECers, we take dinner together and chat.  Evenings are a time to visit each other in the hostels, and visits often come unannounced.  Eventually I will find a way to schedule time for my own work and online socializing.  But for now, I love the opportunity to find community here, rapidly improve my cultural literacy, and embrace the spontaneity of events.

AIESEC Uganda- Member Committee 2009-2010
From left: Eunice, Wakib, Irene, Vicky, Kish, Frank, Drew, Bella

As for AIESEC stuff, I’ll leave it for another post.

My mandatory meeting at the U.S. Embassy was surprisingly enjoyable, completely due to the Ugandan woman who oversees the Fulbrighters. While I don’t foresee myself having close friends among the Americans working there, at least she’s a wonderful contact. She taught me that my favorite food (katunkuma, or bitter peas) is stereotyped as “grandma’s food,” which gave us a good laugh. We covered so much ground on cultural sensitivity and streets-smarts, my head is still spinning. And I plan to volunteer by interviewing Ugandan students who apply for scholarships to study in the U.S. …this would also involve counseling about formatting the CV and application essays – putting those years working at the Admissions Office to good use :)

One frivolous & extravagant activity, though – I went out for the premier of the new Harry Potter movie in Kampala at 11:30pm.  I was shocked to run into Sarah (Yale ’08), who I learned has been working for a year in Kampala!  Then I also bumped into a businessman from Congo to whom my boss had introduced me the week before.  I generally avoid activities as exclusive as a movie theater, but this occasion turned out to be great (not to mention I liked the film).

I was at API for three days last week, catching up with my co-workers from last summer. I’m especially proud that the researchers whom I recruited is still there, and the laboratory is being utilized for experiments. This Friday, I’ll be there to begin teaching them the theory behind Nuclear Magnetic Resonance spectroscopy.  We’ve got labs at Yale that run the samples, and my goal is for them to be proficient in interpreting the spectra by the end of the summer.

it’s great to be back

My flight got in to Entebbe at 8:10pm.  Apparently another flight had just arrived, because the immigration hall was packed.  I learned that within the last week, a case of swine flu was identified in East Africa, so there was a Health Control station set up before you pass to get your visa.  It involved waiting in a long line just to tell some mask-wearing health officials that you had no signs of fever, sore throat, or cough.

I passed through getting my visa with no problem, although I will have to extend mine from a 3-month single entry to a 12-month multiple entry, with the help of the American Embassy.  I got all of my checked bags, made it through customs after a brief, perfunctory search of two of my three bags, and walked out to meet my friends at last.

I immediately spotted Paul from API, and Irene from AIESEC was soon to follow after she got back from a “short call” (Ugandan for bathroom break).  Meeting each of them in quick succession was such an exhilaration!  Everything felt natural, at peace, like I had really reached another home.

We took my huge bags to the parking lot, where me met Baker, a driver from API.  By now it was around 9:30pm, and we loaded everything into the trunk.  The car was having problems starting, so Paul, Irene, and I got behind it and started pushing.  It got going after about a block, and we jumped in … but the lights still weren’t working.  So we pulled into a gas station just outside the airport to sort out the situation.

A mechanic was around that night, but I think we were disturbing him from his rest.  They couldn’t sort out the car problems on the spot, so we called for another car.  It had to come all the way from Kampala, which is about a 45 minute drive.  It didn’t feel that long, through, as Paul, Irene, and I sat on the curb of the gas station chatting like mad with 9-months of catch-up.

During drive back to Kampala, we had SANU FM, the Top 40 popular music station, blasting in the back.  They spin a good mix of American hip-hop as well as current Ugandan dance-hall hits.  I almost never listen to hip-hop in the U.S., but somehow my musical tastes do an about-face once I step abroad.  Strangely enough, recognizing radio commercials that debuted last summer gave me a strong sense of coming back to familiar ground.  In particular, the coca-cola “Brrrrrrrrrrr!!” commercial was stuck in my head … the coke distribution logistics are quite amazing in East Africa, where you’re sure to find several sodas in a cooler, no matter how far out into the rural villages you get.  So much that the Health Ministry was thinking of partnering with distributing coca-cola to distribute medications to rural communities.  As much as I have problems with how foreign corporations exploit local markets, I must admit some guarded awe for the efficiency of their operations.

Somehow it got to be after 12:15am before we reached the hostel … I have no idea where the time went.  I met Frankie, my roommate and president of AIESEC Uganda for 2009-10, as well as Haruna, another AIESECer, and we carried my bags up to the room.  The dorm room is clean and comfortable, even if it is modest space.  But I didn’t stay long before they took me down the hall to another AIESECer’s dorm room.

      
(look, Mom, there’s a mosquito net!)

There I found the entire national staff of AIESEC Uganda (minus Bella) as well as several other local AIESECers chilling out, having waited hours for me to finally arrive from the airport.  Kish promptly started cooking on the balcony with ingredients that they had all brought, and soon we were midnight-feasting on delicious local food.  They had chapati (flat bread) and katogo (a mix of vegetables, sauce, and staple foods like green banana), and rice spiced with ginger.

The conversation was loud and lively … I hate to think what other students in the hostel must have thought last night.  Between morsels that were shoveled into the mouth using the right hand (they did offer me a fork, but I didn’t want to use it), we shared stories of AIESEC conferences and other gossip.  It was irrelevant that I had been traveling for 32 hours since I left home in Iowa – it was simply amazing to be thrown into the company of such good friends.  The number of students truly dedicated to AIESEC has increased dramatically since I left last summer – in large part due to AIESEC Uganda hosting AfroXLDS back in March, the largest conference in the region.  Most of the conference organizing committee was there, and it was great to hear from the creators how much a success it was.

Things finally were winding down around 2:30am, and people started walking back to their hostels – we’re all within a few minutes walk of each other.  Frankie and I chatted a bit before we passed out.  It will be a busy weekend.  I snagged a few hours sleep before waking up at sunrise this morning … jetlag with a vengeance.  I’m writing this post as the first rays are streaming through the window.  Once Frankie is awake, I’ll do a bit of unpacking before we’re off to the ASK Project Launch at one of the local AIESEC committees.  This is my first introduction as MC-VP-Projects, so I’m looking forward to asking a lot of questions and teaching/participating in a slew of AIESEC roll calls.  Lunch and dinner are provided by sponsors, which is sweet (hopefully it’s traditional food). 

Later tonight, there’s a AIESEC Uganda Global Village, where the ticket for entrance is drinks from your home country.  It’s sponsored by an alum who wanted to congratulate AIESEC Uganda on doing so many incoming exchanges this year.  I’ll finally get to see the Yale trainees there, and I’ll also meet a bunch of other AIESECers and international trainees.  We’re wasting no time with full social & cultural integration :-)

 

Sidenote- I still need to sort out my internet situation here.  I’m hoping to post this using the free wi-fi at the faculty later.  But within the week, I want to get my laptop hooked up with a 3G internet card to have more consistent access.  Keep in touch!

new year, new journey

Today I finally board the plane to go ‘home’ to Uganda.  In the hours before departure, I’ve scrubbed up this blog a bit, and updated the blurb in the right column.  Here’s to a new year of blogging.

To condense my thoughts from 10 days of sleepless nights would be impossible.  There is so much to look forward to, and so much that would remain unexpected even after 10 thousand sleepless nights.

I’ve been at home in Iowa for the month of June, and it has been filled with joy … but not much peace.  Unfortunately, my insomnia has rubbed off on my parents.  Like me, they are obsessing over my upcoming year in Uganda.  Unlike me, the vision is of risks and danger.  I know that worrying is a manifestation of love, but Mom, let me assure you, I will take care of myself, and the communities of AIESEC, API, and Makerere University Chemistry Dept will be keeping me out of trouble.

I’m hoping to expand the breadth of blogging this year.  Most of my posts last summer were about personal experiences, but I never directly talked about my research with API or work with AIESEC Uganda.  I’ll try to post more updates on these day-to-day things, especially for anyone who is interested in the "Improving the Life-Cycle of Biodiesel in Uganda through Green Chemistry" project or any AIESECers.  Now if I figure out the categories/labels on blogger, then it will be easy to filter only the posts that interest you!

Off to get a few hours of rest before I leave for the airport.  I have tons of audiobooks loaded onto my iPod to keep me engrossed on the plane … or lull me into much-needed sleep.  Already, “iPod” sounds like a dirty word, as I am leaving this nation of hyper-materialism.  I look forward to a year of being engrossed in a whole new spectrum of things.