Well. Last day. And a lazy one at that. I stood up the HELP kids this morning, they weren’t quite sure of their plans for the day and I didn’t feel like getting up at 7 to help a group I freely declare my lack of full support for. Instead, I slept, tanned, and will head off the a local bakery to help out in the next hour or so. Then time to pack up! Mum is insisting on taking me to the airport rather than my paying a local church member, so I’ll head to Kampala with her in the morning and then we’ll head off to the airport around lunchtime. Then a 7 hour overnight layer in Dubai and I’ll be in Morocco! Let’s hope I can find Jason’s apartment….once again I find myself traveling to far off and unfamiliar places with nothing more than a paragraph or two of directions to get me where I need to go. That’s obviously putting a dramatic light on it, I’m not worried, Jason has been ridiculously accommodating and gave very specific directions and two phone numbers to reach him at should anything happen.
Check back soon to hear all about the next leg of my travels!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Not so bad
It cracks me up how as I repeatedly find myself explaining in conversation that my research group left already and I’m here for a few days until heading out, how many people say, “you must be so bored!” what a shame that locals see their town as so boring! I’ve actually been really enjoying myself the past few days. Maybe the most I have since I’ve been here this trip. Maybe.
Saturday I worked a bit in the morning, ran some errands in town (water, internet, fabric drop-off), and then headed off to Kampala. I will admit I got really lucky; usually the fast talking, pushy conductor just shoves you in the van, but this time the driver was looming around and his aged friendly eyes caught my searching ones. I told him I needed to get to Uganda house on Kampala road and he sat me in the front seat next to him and an hour and a half later remembered exactly where I needed to hop out, which is the part I was worried about. My life is too easy, I know. I found the bookstore I needed just up the road and grabbed the Lonely Planet Morocco travel guide I’ve been eyeing thirstily for about a week. After an intense boda bartering session (no I will not pay you 3,000 shillings for a 500 shilling ride across town!) I met up with Mum at her shop, where I was shown the entire warehouse, introduced to everyone and their uncle, given a cushy seat, hot samosas, an ice cold Coke, and promptly ordered to count the number of bags of rice that were carried through the door. My life is too easy, I know. Mum drove me home, speaking to me only in Lugandan (she insists I won’t learn the language any other way, which is sort of true, I don’t always know exactly what she’s saying in a transliteral sense, but usually get the point). We stopped by the market on the way back and then let me cook dinner under her supervision all the while discussing her life and her thoughts on some current events in Uganda.
Ok, that was long. Sunday will be more to the point. I got home from church to find Doreen, Mum’s daughter, home and promptly was begged to come with her to visit Patrick (Mum’s oldest son) and his new baby in Ntinda. So, I tossed my scriptures on the bed and headed off with her for the taxi. We caught up on life on the way; she’s still brazenly independent and completely smitten with the idea of going to the US or UK. She really is very American in a lot of respects, talking with her is a lot like talking with my friends back home. We arrived at Patrick’s house, which is pretty nice, I would totally be ok living there. Patrick lives there with his girlfriend of 6 years, Marianne, who just had their first baby not even a month ago (and he is SOOOO precious!). Marianne’s twin sister, Becky, lives there as well along with Mum’s third born, Keith.
It was REALLY interesting to get a glimpse into the lives of 20 something up and coming Ugandans. There is a huge TV with a sweet stereo system in the living room, and all the bedrooms also have TV’s. Keith has the same laptop I do, which they all share via their “flashes” (jump-drives) that have more storage space than mine does. The kitchen has gas tanks instead of outdoor charcoal ovens. Becky’s floor was strewn with at least a dozen pairs of enviously stylish heels, her closet filled to the brim with pretty summer dresses, skinny leg jeans, leggings, and tank tops. As we gabbed about hair, babies, Kenya, and clubbing on her black and white flowered bed, I noted a ton of jewelry next to near empty bottles of Smirnoff and So Co. Was I really still in Uganda? It definitely put a contrast to the more traditional life at Mum’s house, just a generation older, where clothes are still washed by hand, house girls are a must, food is cooked outside, and the décor and clothing is noticeably less modern. Uganda is changing fast.
The thematic juxtaposition between traditional and modern continued when I found Drake, Mum’s 4th and final child who is still in secondary school (US 11th grade), at the gate upon my return (ouy…bad taxi ride home, long story, apparently something about merely sitting next to a muzungu was ROARING hilarious for the two girls on my bench) who waltzed into my room, invited himself to a seat and declared he was “hanging out.” He proceeded to tell me all about what’s “so fly” and what’s not so fly among kids his age, his escapades at the rugby club, how bored he gets during the weekdays, and the clubs and parties he goes to on the weekend. He has a best friend that’s a girl but he doesn’t want to date her for fear of losing the friendship, and admits it’s nice having her around because where she is, other girls will be, and what can you except, he’s young and free, can’t be tied down, and loves the ladies. He knows he’ll have to get more serious in a couple years, but right now, he’s joyous aware of his ability to “play.”
Mmmk, grr, another really long post that everyone is just going to skim over, assuming anyone is actually looking at this. Oh well!
Saturday I worked a bit in the morning, ran some errands in town (water, internet, fabric drop-off), and then headed off to Kampala. I will admit I got really lucky; usually the fast talking, pushy conductor just shoves you in the van, but this time the driver was looming around and his aged friendly eyes caught my searching ones. I told him I needed to get to Uganda house on Kampala road and he sat me in the front seat next to him and an hour and a half later remembered exactly where I needed to hop out, which is the part I was worried about. My life is too easy, I know. I found the bookstore I needed just up the road and grabbed the Lonely Planet Morocco travel guide I’ve been eyeing thirstily for about a week. After an intense boda bartering session (no I will not pay you 3,000 shillings for a 500 shilling ride across town!) I met up with Mum at her shop, where I was shown the entire warehouse, introduced to everyone and their uncle, given a cushy seat, hot samosas, an ice cold Coke, and promptly ordered to count the number of bags of rice that were carried through the door. My life is too easy, I know. Mum drove me home, speaking to me only in Lugandan (she insists I won’t learn the language any other way, which is sort of true, I don’t always know exactly what she’s saying in a transliteral sense, but usually get the point). We stopped by the market on the way back and then let me cook dinner under her supervision all the while discussing her life and her thoughts on some current events in Uganda.
Ok, that was long. Sunday will be more to the point. I got home from church to find Doreen, Mum’s daughter, home and promptly was begged to come with her to visit Patrick (Mum’s oldest son) and his new baby in Ntinda. So, I tossed my scriptures on the bed and headed off with her for the taxi. We caught up on life on the way; she’s still brazenly independent and completely smitten with the idea of going to the US or UK. She really is very American in a lot of respects, talking with her is a lot like talking with my friends back home. We arrived at Patrick’s house, which is pretty nice, I would totally be ok living there. Patrick lives there with his girlfriend of 6 years, Marianne, who just had their first baby not even a month ago (and he is SOOOO precious!). Marianne’s twin sister, Becky, lives there as well along with Mum’s third born, Keith.
It was REALLY interesting to get a glimpse into the lives of 20 something up and coming Ugandans. There is a huge TV with a sweet stereo system in the living room, and all the bedrooms also have TV’s. Keith has the same laptop I do, which they all share via their “flashes” (jump-drives) that have more storage space than mine does. The kitchen has gas tanks instead of outdoor charcoal ovens. Becky’s floor was strewn with at least a dozen pairs of enviously stylish heels, her closet filled to the brim with pretty summer dresses, skinny leg jeans, leggings, and tank tops. As we gabbed about hair, babies, Kenya, and clubbing on her black and white flowered bed, I noted a ton of jewelry next to near empty bottles of Smirnoff and So Co. Was I really still in Uganda? It definitely put a contrast to the more traditional life at Mum’s house, just a generation older, where clothes are still washed by hand, house girls are a must, food is cooked outside, and the décor and clothing is noticeably less modern. Uganda is changing fast.
The thematic juxtaposition between traditional and modern continued when I found Drake, Mum’s 4th and final child who is still in secondary school (US 11th grade), at the gate upon my return (ouy…bad taxi ride home, long story, apparently something about merely sitting next to a muzungu was ROARING hilarious for the two girls on my bench) who waltzed into my room, invited himself to a seat and declared he was “hanging out.” He proceeded to tell me all about what’s “so fly” and what’s not so fly among kids his age, his escapades at the rugby club, how bored he gets during the weekdays, and the clubs and parties he goes to on the weekend. He has a best friend that’s a girl but he doesn’t want to date her for fear of losing the friendship, and admits it’s nice having her around because where she is, other girls will be, and what can you except, he’s young and free, can’t be tied down, and loves the ladies. He knows he’ll have to get more serious in a couple years, but right now, he’s joyous aware of his ability to “play.”
Mmmk, grr, another really long post that everyone is just going to skim over, assuming anyone is actually looking at this. Oh well!
The lone muzungu
Well, we went to our last school on Wednesday, ran errands in Kampala on Thursday, and the entire group headed out yesterday (Friday). I leave Tuesday for Morocco. Yeesh, that went by fast. First getting here feels like a long time ago, but it doesn’t feel like I’ve been here a long time, which is weird since my life has been so mobile, I would have thought the feeling of staying put for this long would be especially noticeable. But nope. Maybe it’s because there was so little readjustment, maybe it’s because our days haven’t been as full as I was expecting (and would have liked).
Regardless, I am now a lone Muzungu.
It was the oddest experience, hopping out of the van as the group headed off to the airport, saying my thanks, and losing sight of the crowded faces as I pulled the sliding door shut. I turned my back to the main road and exhaled. This was it. I was on my own. It was just me, and Mukono. I hopped across a gorge and started walking up the side road to the house. I didn’t feel naked or bare or revealed as I was walking, I’ve walked these roads many times before alone. But I felt somehow as if the world around me was frozen and I was moving through it. I knew something everyone around me didn’t: my group was gone. And it was so odd, moving along that road, everyone working and no one noticing. Nothing had changed for them, life continued just as it had two minutes ago, but for me, everything had changed. Tumbling up Jinja road to Entebbe was a van full of Muzungu’s that had been my source of companionship, laughter, discussion, during the past three weeks. The professors who had randomly caught my attention in the hallway two years ago and since became my mentors and opened up an entirely new world to me were gone and I would probably never see them again since I won’t be at BYU in the fall. Gone, gone, gone.
I won’t be lonely. I refuse. There’s no point. But…I am. A bit. I certainly know plenty of people in the area so I’m obviously not entirely alone, but from about 8pm onward, its me, myself, and I. Which is fine, I’ve certainly got plenty of work to get done. And I’ve got plans for the next three days to keep me occupied, but…it’s not quite the same, ya know? I can go places and do stuff and have occasional contact with people, but I don’t have Rachel or Caleb to tag along and share the experience with. It will be interesting though, I think. I feel a lot more focused on being here now than I was previously and maybe that’ll open up some new insight. Check back in a few days!
Regardless, I am now a lone Muzungu.
It was the oddest experience, hopping out of the van as the group headed off to the airport, saying my thanks, and losing sight of the crowded faces as I pulled the sliding door shut. I turned my back to the main road and exhaled. This was it. I was on my own. It was just me, and Mukono. I hopped across a gorge and started walking up the side road to the house. I didn’t feel naked or bare or revealed as I was walking, I’ve walked these roads many times before alone. But I felt somehow as if the world around me was frozen and I was moving through it. I knew something everyone around me didn’t: my group was gone. And it was so odd, moving along that road, everyone working and no one noticing. Nothing had changed for them, life continued just as it had two minutes ago, but for me, everything had changed. Tumbling up Jinja road to Entebbe was a van full of Muzungu’s that had been my source of companionship, laughter, discussion, during the past three weeks. The professors who had randomly caught my attention in the hallway two years ago and since became my mentors and opened up an entirely new world to me were gone and I would probably never see them again since I won’t be at BYU in the fall. Gone, gone, gone.
I won’t be lonely. I refuse. There’s no point. But…I am. A bit. I certainly know plenty of people in the area so I’m obviously not entirely alone, but from about 8pm onward, its me, myself, and I. Which is fine, I’ve certainly got plenty of work to get done. And I’ve got plans for the next three days to keep me occupied, but…it’s not quite the same, ya know? I can go places and do stuff and have occasional contact with people, but I don’t have Rachel or Caleb to tag along and share the experience with. It will be interesting though, I think. I feel a lot more focused on being here now than I was previously and maybe that’ll open up some new insight. Check back in a few days!
Thought
I was reading Rachel’s book, “In a Sunburned Country” (great book, the author is HILARIOUS, not kidding, I was crying from laughing so hard) and I had a small thought.
The author is giving accounts of some of the more ridiculous 18th and 19th century attempts to cross the outback (eg. the guy that lugged 3 boats all the way, or the guy that brought a Chinese gong and 2,000 lbs of sugar) and he mentioned some guy that was chosen for an expedition with no other qualifications other than a family name and big bank account.
And I realized, when its 1789 you’re on a boat to Tasmania, no one gives a darn about your wealth. It does you NO good. They certainly don’t have ATMs there. You can’t stop in the middle of the ocean to buy more supplies. And you definitely can’t change money over once you get there. It’s just you and whatever skills you have.
And wouldn’t that be an interesting experience. To leave all that behind. Here in Uganda, I know I have more than enough money in my account to get by, indulgently even. I know if I need anything, if anything were to happen, chances are, my money would help me wiggle out of it. So much of the “muzungu identity” revolves around having money; it effects your attitude towards things, how people treat you, basically your entire experience. But what if my “wealth” here meant nothing? What if I had only what I brought with me and was on the same par as everyone else? I think it would be a most valuable and interesting experience.
The author is giving accounts of some of the more ridiculous 18th and 19th century attempts to cross the outback (eg. the guy that lugged 3 boats all the way, or the guy that brought a Chinese gong and 2,000 lbs of sugar) and he mentioned some guy that was chosen for an expedition with no other qualifications other than a family name and big bank account.
And I realized, when its 1789 you’re on a boat to Tasmania, no one gives a darn about your wealth. It does you NO good. They certainly don’t have ATMs there. You can’t stop in the middle of the ocean to buy more supplies. And you definitely can’t change money over once you get there. It’s just you and whatever skills you have.
And wouldn’t that be an interesting experience. To leave all that behind. Here in Uganda, I know I have more than enough money in my account to get by, indulgently even. I know if I need anything, if anything were to happen, chances are, my money would help me wiggle out of it. So much of the “muzungu identity” revolves around having money; it effects your attitude towards things, how people treat you, basically your entire experience. But what if my “wealth” here meant nothing? What if I had only what I brought with me and was on the same par as everyone else? I think it would be a most valuable and interesting experience.
Blessing as a curse?
WARNING: CONTROVERSIAL
I’m still mulling a lot of this over, but it is an interesting thought.
Caleb and I had a pretty interesting discussion on the taxi out to one of the schools today (I think I’ve determined that intense conversations are the only type of dialogue I’m capable of…). Anyway. We talked about a lot of things, but one especially interesting point came up. Uganda, and this is something pretty much no one will deny, but Uganda is absolutely not hurting for resources. The soil is more fertile than they know what to do with. Crops literally grow wild here. It is, in a very literal sense, a land of plenty.
Talk to me about it and I’ll talk about mismanagement of land and misallocation of resources. It’s not that the resources aren’t there, they just aren’t getting to the people. The infrastructure isn’t strong enough to support the economy, which in turn is even further bogged down by massive inflation and unemployment, which isn’t helped AT ALL by the heads of state. Not that I’m entirely deterministic about it, but I will admit that I do think of the government and economy almost as living organisms which directly influence the tides of our lives/society, which in turn influence the government and economy. We are not ruled by our institutions. We rule them. But, sometimes we rule them poorly and it goes a bit Frankenstein on us. It’s a give and take, but one that I see as control coming in a more top-down sense. This might change as I learn more and wizen, but it’s how my mind is inherently geared to look at situations, it’s essentially why I’ve chosen the course of studies that I have: so that I can learn more about the function of government in people’s lives and hence how that government can be managed/run/etc. to improve the lives of “it’s” people.
Ok, now, talk to Caleb about it and he raises some interesting points. As background, he served his 2 year Latter-Day Saint mission in Uganda a couple years ago so not only has he spent a substantial amount of time living and working with the people, but lived looking at life here from a religious perspective. He’s considered things I haven’t especially given that with regards to this sort of stuff, I tend to be a staunch secularist. Caleb sees many of the issues here as a result of a lack of individual morality and integrity. If people would just live by the Christian principles they claim to accept, we wouldn’t see the type of people in power that we do. Whereas as I see a lot of the issues as results of having an imposed European modeled government dumped on a society where it didn’t jive with the culture, and thus there were gaps for people like Idi Amin to rise to power. If we can find a model that actually takes the society into account, things might work “better.” Rather, Caleb sees it as a problem with the society itself, and thus necessitates a change in the society. It’s two different perspectives, with some nuanced overlap.
What I did find especially interesting was Caleb’s point that because there are SO MANY resources growing here, it creates almost a sense of satisfaction and complacency that discourages discouraged workers from seeking out jobs. If you know you can grow enough to support your family on your little plot of land, why work to earn money to support the family? You could point to our “human nature” of being greedy (arguable, even though I’m no altruist) but then you add in the zillion issues that make education and finding a job such a struggle, and you find yourself sort of squished between not wanting to work and having no reason to work. I dunno. It’s interesting. It’s a different paradigm here with a different approach and perspective on life that I definitely don’t fully understand and thus can’t say a whole lot about. I think Caleb’s point leaves room for some questions, like why “struggle” is such a catch phrase here, everyone appears to be working so hard all the time just to get by (Caleb will say they actually aren’t working that hard, if you follow a Ugandan for a day, you see all the time they take breaks and chill and don’t work), or the people that DON’T have what they need to survive, that don’t have enough food, etc. But even, so, it raises an interesting question, could Uganda’s blessing of plenty actually be a curse?
I’m still mulling a lot of this over, but it is an interesting thought.
Caleb and I had a pretty interesting discussion on the taxi out to one of the schools today (I think I’ve determined that intense conversations are the only type of dialogue I’m capable of…). Anyway. We talked about a lot of things, but one especially interesting point came up. Uganda, and this is something pretty much no one will deny, but Uganda is absolutely not hurting for resources. The soil is more fertile than they know what to do with. Crops literally grow wild here. It is, in a very literal sense, a land of plenty.
Talk to me about it and I’ll talk about mismanagement of land and misallocation of resources. It’s not that the resources aren’t there, they just aren’t getting to the people. The infrastructure isn’t strong enough to support the economy, which in turn is even further bogged down by massive inflation and unemployment, which isn’t helped AT ALL by the heads of state. Not that I’m entirely deterministic about it, but I will admit that I do think of the government and economy almost as living organisms which directly influence the tides of our lives/society, which in turn influence the government and economy. We are not ruled by our institutions. We rule them. But, sometimes we rule them poorly and it goes a bit Frankenstein on us. It’s a give and take, but one that I see as control coming in a more top-down sense. This might change as I learn more and wizen, but it’s how my mind is inherently geared to look at situations, it’s essentially why I’ve chosen the course of studies that I have: so that I can learn more about the function of government in people’s lives and hence how that government can be managed/run/etc. to improve the lives of “it’s” people.
Ok, now, talk to Caleb about it and he raises some interesting points. As background, he served his 2 year Latter-Day Saint mission in Uganda a couple years ago so not only has he spent a substantial amount of time living and working with the people, but lived looking at life here from a religious perspective. He’s considered things I haven’t especially given that with regards to this sort of stuff, I tend to be a staunch secularist. Caleb sees many of the issues here as a result of a lack of individual morality and integrity. If people would just live by the Christian principles they claim to accept, we wouldn’t see the type of people in power that we do. Whereas as I see a lot of the issues as results of having an imposed European modeled government dumped on a society where it didn’t jive with the culture, and thus there were gaps for people like Idi Amin to rise to power. If we can find a model that actually takes the society into account, things might work “better.” Rather, Caleb sees it as a problem with the society itself, and thus necessitates a change in the society. It’s two different perspectives, with some nuanced overlap.
What I did find especially interesting was Caleb’s point that because there are SO MANY resources growing here, it creates almost a sense of satisfaction and complacency that discourages discouraged workers from seeking out jobs. If you know you can grow enough to support your family on your little plot of land, why work to earn money to support the family? You could point to our “human nature” of being greedy (arguable, even though I’m no altruist) but then you add in the zillion issues that make education and finding a job such a struggle, and you find yourself sort of squished between not wanting to work and having no reason to work. I dunno. It’s interesting. It’s a different paradigm here with a different approach and perspective on life that I definitely don’t fully understand and thus can’t say a whole lot about. I think Caleb’s point leaves room for some questions, like why “struggle” is such a catch phrase here, everyone appears to be working so hard all the time just to get by (Caleb will say they actually aren’t working that hard, if you follow a Ugandan for a day, you see all the time they take breaks and chill and don’t work), or the people that DON’T have what they need to survive, that don’t have enough food, etc. But even, so, it raises an interesting question, could Uganda’s blessing of plenty actually be a curse?
Chained
Grr.
I am chained to my computer. And I absolutely loathe it.
I both want and need to get away.
But every aspect of my life, especially at the moment, requires a computer. This blog is my journaling (or at least, a supplement to it), I have to email at least every other day to turn in work hours back at BYU, work with my dad on UNC stuff, figure out housing, loans, class schedules, etc. And I’m finishing up a research paper so I need my computer for that. And I’m starting data entry for my survey, which also requires a computer. What doesn’t require a computer!!!!
I am chained to my computer. And I absolutely loathe it.
I both want and need to get away.
But every aspect of my life, especially at the moment, requires a computer. This blog is my journaling (or at least, a supplement to it), I have to email at least every other day to turn in work hours back at BYU, work with my dad on UNC stuff, figure out housing, loans, class schedules, etc. And I’m finishing up a research paper so I need my computer for that. And I’m starting data entry for my survey, which also requires a computer. What doesn’t require a computer!!!!
I DECIDED!
I finally decided to officially transfer to UNC-Chapel Hill.
Be happy for me.
It’s been a long road and hard fight, but I got here and just made one of the biggest decisions of my life thus far.
I don’t know if I made the right choice, but I don’t really know that there is a right or wrong here. What I do know is that I made a choice. And I’m goin’ with it.
If everything plays out right, I’ll be double majoring in International and Area Studies and Economics.
Be happy for me.
It’s been a long road and hard fight, but I got here and just made one of the biggest decisions of my life thus far.
I don’t know if I made the right choice, but I don’t really know that there is a right or wrong here. What I do know is that I made a choice. And I’m goin’ with it.
If everything plays out right, I’ll be double majoring in International and Area Studies and Economics.
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