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.”

Day 0 of AIESEC International Congress 2009

I’m currently in my room chilling with the national staff of AIESEC Bahrain.  It’s also the first day of Ramadan, and I’m glad that I will sharing the room with someone who can teach me more about its significance.

My other roommate is the national president of AIESEC Chile, who I randomly met in March 2008 when I visited Santiago.  He was then ex-LCP and hanging around as an alumni, I had no idea he had gotten back into AIESEC as national VP in 2008-09.  Small world.

 
members of AIESEC Uganda + AIESEC Venezuela at Global Village

The previous three days were spent in IC Pre-Meeting at a different hotel located in a suburban part of Kuala Lumpur.  I frequented the market across the street for soymilk and pickled mango/papaya snacks.  While I had an immense feeling of “wow, I’m not in Africa anymore,” it was nice to find familiar Asian staples to enjoy.

The Pre-Meeting was a chance for each regional network to work together on planning, collaborate on regional issues, and set the tone of their involvement in IC itself.

As a delegate from the national staff of AIESEC Uganda, I was participating in the Africa Growth Network meeting, along with AIESEC national leaders from the rest of East Africa, West Africa, and South Africa.  I practiced my French with @Togo and Gabon, connected with the president of @Nigeria who also studies chemistry, was inspired by a Science & Technology project that @Tanzania is organizing, and learned some awesome roll calls in Swahili from @Kenya…

I’m really taking AIESEC Africa’s issues to heart, now that I feel like we are the underdog coming into this International Congress.  There’s a lot we go through to be present here.  Among the 10 delegates from Uganda, I was the only one to have stepped onto a plane before.  Ultimately, the attendance at @Africa Pre-Meeting was very low … which was underscored by the Asia-Pacific delegation meeting on the same floor of the hotel with close to 10 times as many delegates…

The tone of pre-meeting finally gelled after the regional director screened a video from TED Talks about leadership in Africa.  It’s true that you need a very special type of leader to succeed amidst such challenges.  It’s also true that exemplary leaders are most needed in Africa now to drive progress in the coming decades.  The group that’s here is a representation of the immense hard work that’s done throughout the network – and here I see African AIESECers more committed to the meetings, staying up later to do work, and increasingly passionate about getting members of other regions to enter and understand the “cultural space” in which Africa resides. 

 

This conference is also an opportunity to re-live the various parts of my AIESEC experience from the last four years.  People are here from my first AIESEC trip to Egypt as a new member in 2006, from the cultural exchange trip I led to Peru, from my traumatic CEED in India, from the jubilant Anatolia Congress 2007, from the empowering Iberoamerica XPROS conference 2009… not to mention the countless people whom I’ve emailed day and night regarding matching around the world.  And most of all, I’ve appreciated re-connecting with Anjali, whom I met at my first AIESEC US conference … we’ve shared much of our development, and fought hard alongside each other for important issues in @US.  Now she’s on AIESEC Oman’s national staff.  As much as I am passionate about my current African identity, the chance to re-connect with a past (and still-existing) identity has truly strengthened my internal reflections.

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.