Sustainable in Uganda – anecdotes & discoveries

Here are some anecdotes accompanied by photos from the last month.  I use my camera far too infrequently, so I can’t promise that these are representative of my experience.  But it’s the closest I can come to sharing the moment-to-moment stimulation and learning that I’m getting here in Uganda.

The weekend of September 20th, I jumped in a van with some of my colleagues from API to go to Karamoja.  This region in far Northeastern Uganda is home to the Karamajong tribe, who have recently faced extreme resource scarcity due to changing climate patterns.  There had been surging violence in the region due to cattle rustling, since cows are the primary source of livelihood (~1 Liter of cow blood makes a tasty lunch after being fried up with a dash of milk).  API is now utilizing vast acres of land in this arid climate to grow fuel crops that are intercropped with food crops.  Since API began providing this new source of livelihood, violence has drastically reduced in this part of Karamoja.

 
A flat tire on the highway at night … wha’cha gonna do?

But no trip is without some surprises.  During the drive up, one of the tires on the van completely burst.  It was after dark, so we all fumbled with our cell-phones / flashlights to assess the situation.  We did have a spare tire, but our car jack wasn’t working. 

Now while this isn’t Kenya or other notorious neighbors, Ugandans are still suspicious of groups of people flagging down help on the highway at night.  The solution?  Send the Muzungu (white person) to the side of the road to wave down some assistance.  Of course no Muzungu would be a highway robber, so the logic goes.  Sure enough, the next car stopped and they assisted us with changing the tire.  We were back on the road within an hour, with all of us commenting, “It’s a privilege to meet such good-hearted strangers.”

A colleague from API, standing among sunflowers
planted in Karamoja.  Sunflowers are good initial crops
to prepare the soil for other crops the next season. 
It’s also a high-value edible oil :-)

The purpose of the Karamoja trip was to show local leaders (called Local Councils) from other districts the success of API’s farm in Karamoja.  We are launching an out-growers scheme, where private farmers will grow the same fuel crops and sell the kernels to API for biodiesel production.  All of the Local Councils were impressed with the farm’s progress - “if it can grow in Karamoja, it will grow anywhere.”  After the tour of the farm, my colleagues and I made a presentation to the Local Councils about the favorable economics of the project, as well as its positive social and environmental impacts.  Somehow the media were there, and once I returned to Kampala, many of my friends informed me that I was on national TV, again.

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In other sustainability-nerd news … there is one local custom that I have emphatically not adopted, even as I find myself culturally immersed and “Ugandanized”  in so many other ways.  And that’s tossing plastic water bottles into the trash (or more commonly, the ditch).  With the help of Angela from API, I got in touch with Plastic Recycling Uganda Ltd. and finally was able to offload the huge bags of plastic bottles that I (and some sustainability converts from AIESEC) had been saving over the last two months.

 
Recycling, the Ugandan way!

While the amount I had collected was not enough to offset the cost of transporting them to the recycling center, the company picked them up as part of a “corporate social responsibility” initiative.  I got info on how many kg’s of bottles I must collect to justify sending a truck to pick them up, and what payment they would give.  I’ve now convinced the security guard at the hostel to collect these bottles from students, so he can supplement his income once he’s accumulated enough.  My roommate is just thrilled that the stockpiled heaps of bottles are no longer in our room!

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I’ve also been pushing for grants to support API’s projects aimed at sustainable development in Karamoja.  Climate change is manifest in Karamoja through irregular rain patterns that are driving alarming food scarcity.  Women and children walk great distances to carry water for domestic use.  This is a region where the Millennium Development Goals come alive with patent poignancy.

Woman and children carrying water from
a mountain source in Karamoja

There are few NGOs who operate in Karamoja, and even fewer have a good reputation (Oxfam is perhaps a notable exception).  Too often, NGOs implement projects but fail to maintain the infrastructure.  For example, 15 windmills were recently constructed in Karamoja, and none of them are functioning now due to looting and vandalism.

As I’m working on these grant applications, I’m understanding new dimensions to SUSTAINABLE development … clearly it’s not just about environmental impacts.  API is generating these proposals and will manage the project implementation.  Clearly, these proposals benefit API, since it pays some employee salaries and improves the infrastructure around API’s operations in Karamoja. 

But the proposals undoubtedly benefit the surrounding community as well, such as water catchment & distribution for household use and irrigation.  I’m also investigating a pico-hydroelectric generation system for these villages that are far from the grid.  If API has a business interest in these projects, then the company will oversee, protect, and maintain the infrastructure so it can continue to benefit both API and the surrounding community.  Looking forward to seeing more examples of private-sector leadership in remote parts of developing countries play out.

Karamajong women who work on API’s farm

Now I just need to figure out the bureaucracy of USAID | Uganda, which is located within the U.S. Embassy.  I spent much of the afternoon there today, and couldn’t even manage to see a secretary.  She promised to pick up the grant proposal from the security post at the end of the day.  I hope my follow-up attempt will be more successful – perhaps exploiting a letter introducing me as a fulbright scholar (gotta do what you gotta do).

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Next week, I take off for Northern Ethiopia, where API is rapidly establishing its operations.  I will be researching the relevant social and environmental issues in the region, accompanied by David, the other U.S. Fulbright student in Uganda.  I’m looking forward to the massive learning that this trip will entail, and the upcoming months of hard, green work :-)

Back to the peaceful Kampala we know

My room mate Frank decided to take the over-night bus from Nairobi to Kampala on Friday night, despite my strong warnings that riots would likely increase into Saturday.  I sent him worried text messages through the night as I was reading accounts of Friday’s violence on Twitter.  I read countless blog post about the unrest between Museveni’s government and the Baganda kingdom, and I finally fell asleep feeling very unsettled by the uncertainty of Frank’s travel.

I woke up at 7:30am to Frank knocking on the door.  When I opened it, I saw him gloating that he had made record time on the road.  The riot police had removed all of the taxi-vans and boda-bodas (taxi-motorcycles) from the roads, and most people decided to stay indoors.  This meant the road into town was free of a traffic jam – truly unprecedented for Kampala.

Rain on Saturday, which accompanied the return to
a peaceful Kampala. (view from my balcony)

Frank’s safe arrival was followed by more signs that the violence had quelled.  By the time it started raining in the afternoon, there had been no reports of riots.  I even heard the familiar thump of neighboring dance clubs that night, signaling a return to the fun-loving Kampala that is so normal.

Monday, I was back at Makerere University and received the letter I was trying to get last Thursday.  On campus, I also bumped into the Fulbright Scholar (a professor from the U.S.) who is teaching Chemistry in Uganda this year.  We had a good lunch and discussed the relevance of Natural Products Chemistry in East Africa.  He was originally set to be teaching in Gulu (Northwestern Uganda), but for various reasons, he will now be at Makerere University, Kampala.  This is good news for me, as it means more tight connections for my Green Chemistry research project here, which will be more of a focus now that the semester has begun.

It was also interesting to reflect on the difference between the experience of being a Fulbright Scholar as a student and as a professor.  I was surprised that I was introducing the professor to matoke (the most popular staple food in Kampala), although he’s had been in Uganda for more than one month.  I learned that he mostly ate his meals at the Sheraton or University Guest House.  Even if his cuisine has been a bit sheltered, I still have to admire the fortitude of a professor in his 60’s deciding to spend a year in Uganda.  As he said, “As an old man, I need to be comfortable after a hard day’s work.”  And this makes me appreciate all the more how my youthful energy only amplifies as I expose myself to more and more aspects of student life in Uganda.

Kampala riots continue this morning

I woke up early to get ready for my 9:00am Sales Call today.  I called the organization at 8:00am, asking if the staff was in the office today.  The secretary said some employees weren’t there, but that most had come in.  She assured me, “we’re waiting for you.”

I was just heading up the road at 8:45am when I heard the first gunshots this morning.  The riot police commonly fire into the air to disperse crowds.  These gunshots were coming from Kasubi, the next hill after my neighborhood.  Kasubi is an important neighborhood to the Baganda tribe, since it’s the site of their royal tombs and cultural museum.

I quickly went back to the hostel and called the secretary, explaining that I had to reschedule the meeting.  I saw Nash coming back to the hostel, too.  He tried to go into town this morning, and he said that none of the taxis were going because the military have blocked all roads into town.

A car burning at Kasubi market, and a crowd being
dispersed by riot police.

From a roof in Kikoni, I was able to get a clear view of Kasubi market, where a riot was taking place.  In my view, I saw one car burning.  There were other smoke plumes, either from other cars or heaps of burning tires.  Faintly visible were riot police moving into the main intersection of the market.  I could clearly hear gunshots – I hope they were rubber bullets, but I know yesterday police were using live ammunition.  I also could see white teargas spreading from the intersection, and people fleeing for shelter indoors.

I’ve texted or called everyone I know who could be going out today to stay safe.  The AIESEC interns are all okay, although one of them had to walk a long distance home because the taxis weren’t running yesterday.  Everyone has access to food and water, since small neighborhood shops and restaurants are still open.  We will be able to wait this situation out.

Everyone in my neighborhood is calm, looking to Kasubi hill will curiosity and mild chides that the government is losing control.  There are no main gathering points in my neighborhood, making a riot here nearly impossible.  I feel very safe for the time being, staying inside.  And I venture to the roof every now and then to get a glimpse of the situation unfold in surrounding neighborhoods.

riots in Kampala today

Today I had planned to go to a coffee shop in City Center to check email and catch up on my backlog since Malaysia.  I needed to print a letter of recommendation that I wrote for an AIESEC member, draft a proposal to partner with the Faculty of Computing & IT, and submit a grant proposal to USAID on behalf of API.  Then this evening I was going to meet AIESEC members at Mateos Club, the weekly informal gathering where I would hear the status of recruitment and discuss plans for projects.

The first sign that today was different was after I walked up from my hostel to Makerere University.  I called my professor when I saw that he wasn’t in, since I needed him to sign a letter for me.  He said he was picking up his children from school because there were reports of tear gas.  It’s common here to stretch the truth to excuse one’s busy schedule, so I thought nothing of it.

I called my favorite driver to take me into town, and I was in the midst of bargaining for the price over the phone.  I couldn’t understand why he was refusing the fair price I offered.  Then I understood: “It’s not safe to go.  There are riots in the street.”

Riot police advancing from Wandegeya intersection toward
Main Gate of Makerere University

I was still incredulous, thinking it was a small demonstration in City Center.  I decided to walk to the other coffee shop, just outside Makerere University in Wandegeya neighborhood.  As I exited the university Main Gate, I was blocked by two police officers in normal brown uniform, who asked where I was going.  I said I was going to buy water from the market, and they let me pass.  I proceeded to walk toward Wandegeya intersection.

I then noticed that all shops were closed – apparently a police order.  It was now 3:30pm, and I learned that there had been massive riots at the main intersection in Wandegeya around 2pm.  I was curious to hear from bystanders what was happening, so I continued forward to speak with some shopkeepers standing outside their closed stall.  They said the police had come firing rubber bullets and tear gas to disperse the crowd, who in turn were throwing stones at police officers.  The police were still around & menacing anyone who approached.

I watched with interest, and moved back down the road when it was clear that the riot police were approaching the street I was on.  They began halting traffic leading toward Wandegeya intersection – especially taxi-vans and boda-bodas (motorbike taxis).  The few bodas who dared to approach were threatened and hit with police clubs.  I kept my distance, and tried to stay behind a stall or tree as I watched & discretely snapped photos. 

I thought things had mostly subsided.  I couldn’t smell tear gas, although I assumed that’s what was inside the blue canisters that the police were brandishing.  There were only about 15 people standing around the side of the road where I was, similarly retreating.  So it came as a surprise to see one of those blue canisters hurled by an officer toward the boda drivers, then roll to a few feet from where I was standing.

My hand after stumbling while running
away from a canister of tear gas

I had no time to think, since the tear gas canister was about to burst and release its noxious contents.  I scrambled and ran from the tear gas canister, nearly crushing my camera as I tripped on a stone.  I heard the canister BAM open as I ran, and I luckily avoided most of the tear gas – the wind must have worked in my favor.  I assume it was intended to dissuade boda-boda drives from approaching the intersection … but it seemed to be a complete indiscriminant use to me.  I blindly ran toward Makerere Main Gate along with the rest of the small crowd that had been unfortunate like me to be standing there.

I took refuge inside Makerere University.  Each person was stopped and asked for a Student ID Card to enter, and my US passport sufficed (I was carrying it today since I intended to extend my visa).  I heard the radio say that Makerere was the ONLY safe place in town.  I stayed around the Main Gate, seeing other people come in.  They said they had to walk from town, since all vehicles were stopped.  I called the four AIESEC interns in the country, cautioning them about their commute home.

View from Makerere University Guest House,
seeing smoke rise from Old Kampala

From the university, I got a view of smoke plumes rising from other neighborhoods, since people were burning tires in the street.  So far, I have gotten personal accounts from people around Makerere, many of whom belong to tribes other than Baganda.  For details on the cause of the riots, see the developing story in the Daily Monitor newspaper.  The U.S. Embassy gave this brief summary in an email to all American citizens currently in Uganda:

The U.S. Embassy in Kampala wishes to advise U.S. citizens that this weekend the leader of the Kingdom of Buganda is planning his annual visit to Kayunga District against the wishes of the central government.  The disagreement has resulted in a stand-off which appears to be fueling long-standing grievances between the Kingdom of Buganda and the central government, and between different political factions within the kingdom.

There have been tensions between President Museveni’s government and the dominant tribe (Baganda) in central Uganda, where Kampala is situated.  Museveni is from the Nyankole tribe, and he has been in power for 23 years.  The Baganda were provoked this morning when Museveni’s government halted the Baganda Prime Minister from visiting a neighboring district.  Incited by Baganda FM radio stations, huge crowds of people across Kampala poured into the streets to protest, starting around lunchtime.  Although the government police dispersed the riots quickly, a common refrain that I heard from observers was, “Museveni is losing control of the country.”

This Is Africa :-)

while T.I.A. is no excuse for not regularly blogging, let me provide some (hopefully) entertaining stories about what’s been occupying me the last two and a half weeks.

Just after my last post, my laptop succumbed to a virus.  The service center decided to completely reformat my hard drive and reinstall windows, which means I’ve been working hard to reinstall software & reconfigure settings.  At last, my blogging software (Windows Life Writer – a rare high-quality program bundled with Windows) is back up and running, and I can keep you posted once again :-)

Closing Event for the Young EntrepreneurS (YES) and AfriTour Projects at AIESEC MUBS 

Now all 7 of AIESEC Uganda’s projects have closed.  Now, we’re standing on the shoulders of giants as we plan for 2010 realizations.  We have a terrific talent retained within AIESEC that will provide leadership for a new year of innovative projects.  And we have partners who are aligned with the AIESEC Way and dedicated to supporting the success of our projects :-)

By the way, we were also covered in Uganda’s Daily Monitor newspaper on 5th August and 12th August issues.  We also had a news feature that aired twice on WBS TV on Saturday, 1st August.  Contact me if you’d like to see any of these media appearances!  (I don’t want to interfere with copyright issues by posting online)

Yet another cooking adventure with AIESECers 

Now most of the trainees have left, and AIESEC Uganda is planning hard for a spectacular recruitment season.  But for a lucky special few, International Congress in Malaysia is coming up next week!!

Follow me on twitter to hear about my own preparations for IC 2009 in Malaysia.  But don’t worry, I still emphatically prefer blogging to tweeting ;-)

Just wanted to share with you one email that I got this morning from a colleague in AIESEC Uganda:

Dear all,

I would like to invite you to Makerere University Business School for a Press Conference  tomorrow Friday 8:00am to 10:00 am at the national office. It will take one hour at most.

Now at first, it would seem discordant – to say a two-hour time slot, and say that the event will take one hour at most.  Yet this is a perfect example of T.I.A. in practice.  For all morning events, people will inevitably arrive at least one hour late.  This message is a polite way of saying “come from 9:30am to 10:30am,” which is the actual time that we are intending to hold the Press Conference.  This all seems perfectly normal to me now…

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.

strategic planning from afar

Brief but necessary catch-up, 11 months since my last post: I’ve graduated! I’ve leaving on July 2 for one year in Uganda! I’m continuing my Green Chemistry research in Uganda on a fellowship. I’ll be a Masters student in Chemistry at Makerere University. and I’ll be MC-VP-Projects of AIESEC Uganda (i.e. I’m coordinating Issue-Based Projects at the national level). Life is wild and amazing now.

AIESEC Uganda National Planning Conference is this weekend, and I'm really disappointed that I won't be there to attend and facilitate. I was just reviewing the agenda outline that Frankie (MCP) just sent out. It's brilliantly based on training materials passed down from IPM, the highest-level AIESEC conference each year.

Then on the third day, the agenda starts out with "bonking game." I burst out laughing and got a surge of nostalgia and gratification. If I'm not mistaken, this is the game I made up spontaneously last year when running a transition workshop for the new @MUK executive board. I based on the favorite word of the local tabloid Red Pepper as a tongue-in-cheek adaptation to Ugandan culture. I'm thrilled to see it stuck as a way to learn AIESEC terminology.

As I'm planning for my year in Uganda, it's overwhelming to think about the impact I'd like to make with such limited time. But moments like this remind me that spontaneous creativity can sometimes trump meticulous planning.

Dancing by Candlelight

Dancing by Candlelight

Power went out just after we finished cooking dinner – spiced tomato & bean sauce still simmering, along with rice, cassava, and a side of bitter peas (I think they’re unique to East Africa). It being a Friday night, Catherine (my housemate) and I had intended to take a beer after dinner and unwind with a movie (I had Almodóvar’s All About My Mother in mind). But there’s no substitute for spontaneity. We lit up two candles, polished off the food and cleaned the dishes, not wanting to leave them for tomorrow morning since we have to be at the office by 8am (on a Saturday!).

Then out they came with my iPod, freshly loaded with Ugandan dance music, which I got from a burned mp3 CD bootlegged in central Kampala. The “luxury comfort item” I packed for Uganda were my rechargeable, portable iPod speakers, and they made a brilliant showing tonight. With the two candles still burning on the counter, I took a Nile Special Beer from the (now warming) fridge, and got down to “shakin’ ” it on the kitchen floor.

Catherine has one of the most outgoing and entertaining personalities that I’ve ever befriended. Earlier in the evening, she was modeling a Massai dress, singing mélanges from Phantom of the Opera in an impressive soprano, and telling stories of her days playing drums in a band with her brothers. And now she was teaching me how to break it down with African dance moves – specifically this slow hip swivel that’s all the rage in Congo.


Poison control shenanigans

This afternoon, my boss’s 2.5-year-old daughter got really sick and had to go to the neighborhood clinic. The simple blood tests didn’t turn up anything wrong, but she continued to experience severe lethargy, pain around the eyes, and vomiting. My boss suspected it was poisoning from the new toothpaste she’d started using the day before, since it was supposed to be for children 6 and up. As the situation was unfolding in the office, I remembered that I’d come across a US Poison Control Hotline during some of my environmental impact assessment research. So my boss passed me his phone, which was loaded with airtime credit, and I made the call. I figured my American accent would make things easy, but they asked for my home address, and sounded quite skeptical when I said I was calling from Iowa. I also tripped up by saying “she last took the toothpaste this morning, about 7 hours ago,” when the time difference meant that “7 hours ago” would have been midnight. Anyway, I got the advice and reassurance we needed, I instructed them to feed her some milk to neutralize her stomach, and sure enough, she was fine by the end of the day.


I wish I could capture more moments like this here. So much of my time here has been unexpected, so as to disrupt my normal modes of (a) planning for, (b) living, then (c) processing experiences. This blog has suffered partially from my preoccupation with my job. Scarce internet doesn’t help. But I’ve found it fundamentally difficult to relate stories from Uganda the same way I would from the US. I could now pretentiously claim that I’ve become zen with “living in the moment,” but that disregards all the fuzzy & disorienting emotions of culture-shock. I still can’t say I feel in control of my life here, as much as I’ve turned to my handheld personal planner and set goals for my work and personal development. Rather, I’ve been “swept up,” for better or for worse, with the demands of the surrounding community.

A friend I've made

How do I go about recounting how certain individuals here have drastically altered my worldview … and self-view?

There’s been a surreal element to so many of the conversations that I have with people here. I alluded in a previous entry about befriending a guy who is now a journalist for the Uganda TV broadcasting company, who also does freelance work making a documentary about the company I’m working for. Before I go on, I want to preface that I cannot come close to doing justice to describing this man’s character. I got to know Vincent (name changed for privacy’s sake) during a three-day trip to Western Uganda, along with my boss and another coworker. On the drive over, my boss joked about the intense challenges Vincent has faced during his lifetime, and if it wasn’t for him, Uganda would not be experiencing the unprecedented unity and stability that President Museveni has brought since 1986. Laughing and joking is such a robust emotional tool in Uganda. I got the idea that Vincent had serious stories to tell, but cloaked in the jovial banter in the car, there was no possibility of diving in of his experience as a child soldier.

Let me also remark that Vincent is the guy I mentioned previously who has diabetes and jogs for two hours a day to avoid premature death … and who enjoys a stout Guinness at the end of the day but takes it knowing he’ll run an extra hour the next morning. And for someone getting to know this guy, it seems he’s an exemplary self-made man, having financed himself to take a journalism course in the Netherlands, then come back to start a career in a tough field. He’s also got a wife and two daughters. On the final night of the trip, my boss (who usually is the social epicenter) was off for a meeting as we were taking beers. Realizing I had the most outgoing personality of the three of us, I decided to venture into conversation with the delicate question, “What were your aspirations when you were young, before the war? Did you know you wanted to go into journalism?” Maybe Vincent had gained respect for my active listening throughout the trip, and maybe he saw my genuine (and naive) curiosity of his childhood experience.

For whatever reason, he disregarded my specific question and began the story of how he became a child soldier resisting Milton Obote’s reign of terror and bringing President Museveni into power. In a matter-of-fact way, he told how there was absolutely no choice for the children in the village – their families were being robbed and their women raped by Obote’s army that every able man and boy (and some girls) had to resort to guerilla tactics from “the bush,” i.e. the dense, sub-tropical forest that covers much of Uganda. He was eleven, and left the bush when he was fourteen.

As punishment for his resistance, Obote’s army put his mother in prison, where she faced overcrowded, squalid, and malnourished captivity. But life in the bush was altogether different. They would begin each day at 4 A.M., so the morning dew would mask their tracks leaving their campsite. Fires at any time would draw attention, so they did their best to subsist on raw grains and what fruits and vegetables they could find. During times in unfertile areas, he even had to eat part of his leather shoe. Weapons and ammunition scarcity was as important as food. For surprise attacks on a group of fifteen of Obote’s soldiers, a group of eight child soldiers would have to scream and yell to seem like they were twenty so the soldiers would run away leaving their weapons. If the operation wasn’t successful … the kids would never reach their teenage years.

Toward the end of Obote’s rein, he announced amnesty to all child soldiers if they returned to the village. After nearly three years of horror in the bush, many children, including Vincent, risked going back. It was indeed a ploy, with reports of Obote’s soldiers massacring those kids who came back – setting fire to plastic jugs and letting drips of molten plastic eat through the children’s skin. With the Obote’s army soon to come, Vincent escaped with one other, layered between potato sacks in a heap on the back of a truck, with limited air and no ability to move for eight hours. He stayed with an uncle until Museveni came to power later that year, ultimately bringing peace.

As for veterans’ benefits, much was promised and nothing fulfilled. Most veterans are uneducated and unemployed in the villages, contributing to soaring alcoholism rates. They span all regions of Uganda and tribal groups. I asked if Vincent ever shared his stories with other veterans, seeking solidarity. But Vincent has created a new life with education, career, and family – leaving those three years in a distant past. It was a call to duty in which he had no reasonable choice but to serve. I get the sense that his sharing stories wasn’t cathartic at all, rather an unemotional retrospective, delivered to someone clearly wishing to develop perspective on Uganda. And re-telling this story does not adequately honor what I have learned. Now that I have a human face and friend attached to the atrocities of political unrest and war, as well as a vision of hope for a survivor, I hope to channel it into mission to serve humanity in what capacity I can.



I wrote this entry more than a week ago, but I’m just now getting a chance to post it. My work here is still providing fascinating experiences … which I hope to relate one way or another. I should be giving this blog a little more love – while still allowing myself to get swept up with opportunity here.

Words on Working Abroad

I’ve returned from my second weekend excursion to a far corner of the country – this time Karamoja in the northeast. The mindset I adopt when traveling takes on such a different quality than tourism, thanks to my traineeship. Through the work of this company, there are breathtaking impacts on local communities and peoples, and it’s a bit awe-inspiring to think that my work can be a part of that. But I’m quick to come back to humility, because of my limitations as the only non-East African working on the project.

To give you an idea of the conditions: Karamoja is the least developed region of Uganda, where the tribe is extremely conservative and traditional in their customs. For example, they pay a big dowry (like 80 cows) to get a bride, then treat her like property, making her build, farm, get water, cook, tend to children, etc. while the guy sits around and drinks ... only to demand sex at night. Due to recent drought, the cattle are scarce, and this has been the site of the worst violence in the country as bandits kill people for their cows – all so they can secure a bride for themselves. I was safe during the trip (our hotel was just outside the region, so it was a day trip), but it was eye-opening to be sure. The idea is that they revenue from growing crops for the renewable energy company will alleviate resource scarcity and empower the women. Can only hope that this happens soon.

I’ve just finished reading several of my friends recent blog posts, and it was striking to see some common themes of cultural barriers (especially you in Africa – Ray, Dunia, Brownie, and Sean; pardon the lack of comments – I read new posts using Google Reader when I’m offline). I think a lot about how I can reinvest this experience back in my home country and culture. Especially because every day I witness East Africans propelling themselves toward their goals for their region. My boss has a strident ideology that Africa’s problems are perpetuated by NGOs and the Church, both of which draw their executives mostly from Europe. I’ve asked him to lend me the book Lords of Poverty, which develops this argument. These experiences and ideas are building a long-subconscious urge to find ways that I can contribute within my home society. Let me explain.

Many of my coworkers get around 4 hours of sleep per night, due to their high discipline and work ethic. One claims an herbal tea allows him to deepen the quality of the little sleep he gets, so he can stay up half the night talking to the company’s numerous international partners. Another has diabetes, and must run for an hour every morning so he doesn’t prematurely die (insulin is prohibitively expensive here). Another cares for nine children: One that is her own and eight that have been orphaned after her brothers and sisters died. Whatever their motivation, these people have such positive attitude and dedication toward the company’s mission. They realize they are part of a one-of-a-kind African enterprise, within which they are role models of indigenous entrepreneurship and hard work.

I’ve been doing my best to pour myself into work, despite the lack of internet access and few social opportunities apart from coworkers. I’m less than a third into my 12 weeks here, and there’s so much I hope to achieve. My current objectives at work are to (1) design and equip a chemistry laboratory for the company, (2) perform an environmental impact assessment required by the national ministry of the environment, (3) familiarize myself on academic and technical literature related to the company’s interests, and (4) recruit and train a team of three chemistry research interns from the prestigious Makerere University in Kampala, who will continue the research in the company’s laboratory after I return to the US.

The last objective is by far the most meaningful to me right now, because it seems to align with the value of empowering young people to invest their skills in improving their home community. Once again, it’s an act of humility, because I won’t be able to achieve much in my three months here. And I am excited for the interpersonal dynamics with other young chemistry researchers that I bring to the company. Surely I will have to assume some authority at the beginning, but if I’m able to kindle any AIESEC spirit in this endeavor, it will become a most welcome social outlet.

The question remains how I will invest these experiences back at home … and if I will consider my boss’ offer to employ me for one year in Uganda between undergrad and graduate school. I know I will continue to have a thirst for travel, but recently I’ve really wished that I could play the host. To be in my element so I can constantly entertain and share tidbits of local culture to eager (or even fatigued) eyes and ears, all in stride with doing meaningful work. My coworkers are exemplifying this toward me, but cultural learning curves are proving all too steep for me to be at the same level in Uganda in the foreseeable future. So for all of my international friends – consider this an open invitation. Visiting the US won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can to bridge the gap. And to Jing and Marina, I only wish I could have been there more this past year.

Honeymoon Stage in Retrospect

Just came back from a weekend trip to a village in Western Uganda where I studied the oldest still-existing industry in Africa, stumbled upon an organic agriculture festival, and made friends with a former child-soldier who fought to overthrow Milton Obote in the 1980s.

I've had such limited internet access since I've been here. I wish I'd had more opportunities to post (not to mention do research for my job), but being cut off from the outside world for my first few weeks here has been marvelous at fast-tracking discovering and integrating in Ugandan life. A couple of times per week, I get myself to walk up to the second-highest hill in Kampala to use the wireless at a charming hotel and appreciate the view:


For AIESECers -- check out the AIESEC Yale blog, where I just posted some stories of times with AIESEC Makerere University (Kampala).

So rather than trying to recreate the good, bad, & bizarre from the first two weeks, let's go for some bullet points of random memories and lessons learned:

Food

• Boiled & mashed green bananas have become my staple food, along with sweet potato, "irish" potato, rice, cassava, and posho (aka ugali in Kenya, a corn-based, dense porridge)
• Tilapia from Lake Victoria are delicious, but don't be surprised if they bring you the head! See the bowl at the bottom of the picture. Eating the fish brains gives extra intelligence!
  
  
• There's nothing more refreshing than fresh-squeezed passion fruit juice. Except maybe a Ugandan-brewed Bell (light), Club (light), or Nile Special (strong) beer in the evening.
• Eating cow-hoof (which is all tendon), cooked as a stew inside banana leaves, gives you strong bones.
  
  
• Grasshoppers are a delicacy you enjoy just after it rains in the countryside. Pick off their legs and wings, and they fry wonderfully in their natural oil.
  
  

News

• With the CEO was out of the country during my first week here, I spent a large part of my time casually reading the daily newspaper with two coworkers. This included the government-owned New Vision and the independent Daily Monitor. This is an amazing springboard for discussions on local culture and current events.
• The Red Pepper is a ridiculous tabloid that has even greater circulation than the two "real" newspapers, and it's amazing how this seemingly trash paper appeals to broad audiences. Just glance at http://www.redpepper.ug/ for a spicy taste. But despite the raunchy sex gossip, the paper has demonstrated breakthrough investigative journalism during past scandals (albeit masked by conspiracy-theory overtones), and has won a readership across intellectual circles.
• Al Jazeera news is routinely broadcast on the Ugandan National Television channel, and I'll be damned if it's not at least as respectable as CNN or BBC. My AIESEC friends swear by Al Jazeera's reporting, citing how it is the only news network to intelligently analyze the causes and implications of events. The only thing -- after watching it for a while, you become convinced that the US is at the root of all the world's problems.
• Obama is hugely popular among East Africans, since his father is from Kenya. After Obama secured the nomination, his grandmother was on TV from her village, exuberantly speaking in her native language.

Relationships

• Seems like one of the hottest topics of conversation is cheating on your wife/husband. Articles on "how to spot a cheater" or "can you trust him?" seem like daily occurrences in all newspaper, radio, and tv broadcasts. This is often "inter-generational sex" with young girls.
• It's really hard for a guy to date a girl unless he has a lot of money to spend. Girls expect to be taken out every weekend, as well as receiving expensive hair treatments and other gifts. My AIESEC friend who is quite ambitious says she wants to find a good job and good man, so he can spoil her and she can spoil herself. For this reason, girls almost always date older men who have a stable job (not easy when unemployment is high).
• So bizarre -- as I'm writing this bit about relationships, a girl (about my age) walks over and asks if she can give me her phone number. She was just having lunch in this cafe with her family, and she lives in Kampala. This is definitely a first ... is it the fact that my laptop and iPod are indications of wealth? Curious about foreigners? My prior impressions were that guys were the assertive ones in Ugandan relationships. What is happening?!

My time here is running short, so I'll leave with a brief thought about my traineeship so far -- basically a strong sense of humbling.

As I was preparing for my summer research, I understood my job description to be "providing scientific expertise in green chemistry and green engineering to the company," so I was doing a lot of preparation to see what knowledge and skills I could impart. As the only non-East African working with the company right now, I thought I would have a valuable pool of expertise to contribute. But the endeavor here truly embodies Africa's ability to provide all necessary aspects to sustainable develop its natural resources and pull itself up economically, socially, and environmentally. Whereas previous development efforts were managed by a small team of Europeans, who gave orders to Ugandan staff, the tables have turned. I am reporting to my boss and experts who are all stridently proud Africans. All I can say is that I'm happy that I'm a good listener, since that's mostly what I've been doing so far ... and with ample amazement to go along. I think I'm appreciated more for my humility and receptiveness than for any expertise I'm bringing. And I find myself exceedingly lucky.

Arrival in Kampala

A big Hello from Kampala! I arrived on Thursday, and I've already been swept up by the wonderful sense of community here. Hopefully a few pictures will begin to do justice to the experience I've had so far.

On our way from the airport, we stopped at a roadside fruit stand to pick up some mangoes and guavas to take to the office. Catherine (on the right) will be my house-mate for the summer, and Steven (in the middle) is the company's driver. Catherine graduated from university about four years ago, and she's now the operations manager at the renewable energy company. She just moved into a new house close to the company's office.

We're based in a suburban part of Kampala called Buziga. It's located on a hill overlooking much of the city and Lake Victoria, and I've heard it's considered the "Beverly Hills" of Kampala for its prime real estate. The air is clean and fresh, especially compared to the congested streets of the city center. And Buziga is not too isolated -- it's about a 30-minute ride into town, where Makerere University and the AIESEC chapter is based.

The company building was built to be an upscale house, and has since been converted into office space. This picture is at the entrance to the office, along with some of the company's staff (as we're enjoying the mangoes). The office also has a kitchen where the company's cook prepares lunch for us every day. There's a strong sense of community and loyalty within the company. Most of them knew the CEO long before he founded the company, and it seems they work out of dedication to him as much as their personal ambition (in contrast to the US...). It feels like working at the company will be like joining a family of Ugandans, providing quite a rich cultural experience.

So things are still a work in progress. The house I'm living in did not even have a bed yet. So my Friday was spent going shopping with Catherine for home furnishings... and getting a chance to bump along in the back of a pick-up :-p

There are still a lot of questions about my work for the summer. For example, when will the $15,000 worth of laboratory equipment and chemicals arrive, and where am I going to set up my lab? Once the CEO gets back from a business trip, I'll meet with him and clear up some of these issues (and surely prompt even more questions). There are so many ways this summer can go...