Uganda and Rwanda
June 8th
Tavia and I are sitting at the dock at Lake Bunyonyi waiting for the Entusi boat to come pick us up and take us back to Entusi. There weren't enough accomodations at Entusi due to the Women's Retreat so we ended up at a hotel called Gorilla Backpackers. It was nice enough, although the hot water didn't work at all this morning and worse yet- THERE WAS NO COFFEE. The Entusi boat was due to arrive at 8:00am. It's now 9:00am. We should have slept in! TIA, as Raymond at Entusi likes to say: This Is Africa. I'm beginning to realize all of the things that means.
Okay so the boat arrived. It's is now just after lunch time during the conference. Many of the attendees are headed to Brite's Village, but I am staying here as we visited Brite's Village a couple weeks ago. We may go visit Manager's baby who was born today! It's a girl! Perfect for the Women's Retreat :)
This morning we talked with Agnes Igoye who works on human trafficking here in Uganda and throughout the world. She is absolutely amazing. Seriously. Google her. Right now. The fact that I am even in the presence of this incredible person is astounding to me. She said to us, "Never think something is too big for you to make a difference. One trafficked child is too many." She encouraged us to talk about it. Educate ourselves. Create awareness. Make use of our own individual talents- things that come easy to us. She asked us to be creative in our solutions.
Here's a little about her. But seriously Google her anyway:
https://thisis256.wordpress.com/2015/04/16/she-is-armed-against-human-trafficking-meet-ugandas-daughter-agnes-igoye/
I just had lunch with her and chatted about her work and her thoughts and all the people she's met. She is fabulous. And she is coming to Colorado in October so I am so excited to reconnect with her then.
It sounds like this afternoon we're just going to hang out until everyone gets back and then we're going to do yoga at around 5:00. Then we're going to listen to Clare speak- she is an LGBTQ rights leader here in Uganda- which absolutely astounds me. I am very excited to hear what she has to say regarding her work and the political and social climate she must work within. And then dinner and chatting and back to the hotel and then we'll start all over again! It's just amazing to be surrounded by these people and listen to their stories. Oh! One I forgot. This morning we also listened to the story of the first Ugandan woman Boda Boda driver. She set her mind on doing it and she did it. And that's what it comes down to. We each have something to contribute and to offer. We just have to find our passion and apply our own creative talents to following and achieving it.
June 7th
Last night, a group of us sat around the fire (yes- FIRE- Uganda gets really cold in places apparently) and chatted for a long time. We covered lots of international development topics, HIV in the States and abroad, gender, equality, politics... most of my favorite subjects :) One of the founders of the Entusi Center and I geeked about gender for a long time- we were both Gender Studies nerds in college. It was great to connect with people on that level and challenge ideas and push boundaries. Those are my favorite kinds of conversations. We chatted a lot about gender dynamics in Uganda and Matthew told me that many - most- of the women (and some of the men) who are employed in Uganda have to sleep with their bosses to keep their jobs. I can't even begin to fathom what it must be like to be a woman in Uganda, particuarly in certain communities. We've watched little girls- some look about 4 or 5- carrying huge canteens of water long distances, up hills, in the rain... and we've seen how hard the women work. Most of the agricultural work in Africa is done by women, which is a huge misconception. We tend to think of agriculture work as "men's work" but it's women who do all of the labor. Agriculture, laundry... And then have to provide food for their families and husbands. We asked a Ugandan Ministry of Health worker how the eating arrangements work and husbands get fed first, followed by children, and then mothers/women. If there's no food left, it's the women who don't get to eat.
How do we address these gender inequalities- particularly as they are wrapped up in values that are so integral to the culture? Education certainly has to be key. Educating and empowering women to take charge of their own bodies, lives, communities, and future... Unleashing a generation of intelligent , courageous and empowered women. That's what I want to see.
Anyway.
Today Emily and I went to town to run some errands for the Women's Retreat (the women arrive tomorrow!) and to visit some of the Entusi staff's wives in the hospital. Manager's wife, Helen, is in the hospital with their third baby and she has been there for almost a month waiting for it to come! Manager's name is Reagan but many of the staff like to be called by their title- Manager, Chef, etc. Anyway, Manager showed us the private wing of the hospital where you can stay if you can pay. You get your own private room and it looked comfortable enough. We brought Manager's wife and Gilbert's wife a bottle of Fanta and two loaves of bread each. Raymond told us that is what you take people who are in the hospital. Apparently orange Fanta is the drink of choice when you're sick. After visiting Helen we all wandered to the public part of the hospital where Gilbert's wife was a patient in the gynecology wing. She is pregnant with their first child and apparently is having some complications. We met her family and they told us she is getting better. They invited us into the gynecology wing, where there were about 8 beds with women, stacked almost on top of on another. Everyone waved and smiled at us and they all scooted over so we could sit down on the bed. We told them we didn't need to sit but they insisted, and we all crowded on her bed. They told us that when family comes to the public part of the hospital there are no accomodations for them so they have to sleep outside in the cold. As we were sitting and talking (although Gilbert's wife doesn't speak English) Gilbert's mother-in-law brought Emily and I each a large plastic coffee mug filled with what looked like muddyish water with black and brown flakes in it. They told us it was Ugandan Porridge. We found out it was water from the lake, boiled (I hope), and then sorghum is essentially fermented in it for three or four days. Raymond told us it's 30% alcohol. We each took a small sip and then both tried to share with people around us. We didn't want to be rude or offensive, but I have absolutely never tasted anything like that in my life. It was certainly alcoholic tasting, but then it also had this bitter, vinegary taste. We did our best to take small, small sips and continue chatting. They then brought us this huge bucket of water to wash our hands and fed us pineapple. And they insisted we eat the entire thing by ourselves. It was just such an experience. To come to this hospital to visit patients and then to be treated with such hospitality... and to see all the people sitting out on the grass, holding their babies, doing their laundry, eating their lunch... As we walked back to the car, the women insisted we have another pineapple and tracked down a man with a bunch of pineapples on his bike and had him cut it right there for us and put it in a bag. I'm so glad I went to town today. It was such a small experience, but it was so meaningful.
June 4th
I'm trying to debrief in my head about what has happened in the last two and a half weeks. I certainly became more confused than I ever was before about International Development. The challenges that face international development work are vast and seem to be constantly changing. How do we do work with a community rather than for? How do we assess what a community needs without imposing our own beliefs, values, and solutions? How successful can community development be in the face of a corrupt government? How do you overcome the obstacles of said government? How do you determine best practices and disseminate the information in a way that is accessible and useful to communities in most need? And how do you really help those communities in most need- communities like the rural, former IDP camp in Northern Uganda, that have no water, no employment opportunities, no schools, no clothes or shoes, no way to access healthcare... the list goes on and on. How do we move away from the "aid only" model on to to something more sustainable, more substantial, more empowering? I think one of my biggest takeaways from this course is that "we"- the Western we- are not going to change Africa. Africa is going to change Africa. And we can certainly help. But we have to drastically shift our ways of knowing and doing. We have to engage in a constant knowledge exchange with Africa- not just tell them what to do. We have to invest in local African economies and businesses- like Pam's peanut butter- so that they can grow, employ more people, expand the local economy. Most importantly, we have to evaluate the aid we are currently sending- money, supplies, etc. First, is it really getting where it needs to go? Is it reaching those in most need? And if it is, is it helping or hurting? Now? In the long run? Is it sustainable, and if so, for whom?
I think another big takeaway for me is that development work doesn't have to be "big" to make an impact. You don't have to come in and change the infrastructure of a country in order to do good work, to make a difference. Our health clinics were a great example of this. We probably didn't heal or help anyone significantly. But what we did was go into a community that is largely ignored, and paid attention. Touched faces. Played with kids. Listened as best we could. Did we change their lives? No. But did we make one day out of the week a little bit better? Maybe. And that is worth it I think.
After being in Rwanda, seeing the Genocide Museum, having some time to decompress, I am marvelling in how far removed the United States has allowed itself to become from the international world. Complacency. Ignorance. How do we get our news and what is the angle? The purpose? How do we allow ourselves to continue to ignore the injustices of the world- the poverty, the violence, the genocide? Do we simply not want to know? Is it too difficult to know? Because then when you do know- what do you do about it? But not knowing doesn't mean it's not happening. We have the privilege of removing ourselves. Did you know that less than 8% of the United States population have passports? And how many of those are for Mexico and Canada? No one is saying that you have to go out and save the world. But bear witness. See. Listen. Experience. Think. Travel is the antidote to ignorance. Once you see you can never not know. If we all traveled our values would shift. We would have to become a better part of the world system. We wouldn't be able to continue in our individualistic, self-serving, "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" ways. Well. Some of us would. Others might not be changed or moved. Or would see opportunities for themselves. Ways to exploit. On that note, I am still struggling with the concept of intentionality. Does it matter in development work? For example, you look at the businessman who comes to Uganda specifically to make money. Says explicitly, "I do not believe in helping people." But he creates jobs. Employs Ugandans. Still, he's looking out for number one. But I bet those Ugandans who have jobs are glad that they do. So what he's doing could certainly be better, be more ethical, be more helpful and sustainable. But if it is helping those in need, does his intention matter? I like to think that it does. I like to think that the reasons for peoples actions influence those actions and dictate results. But that may just be my privilege speaking. Perhaps those Ugandans that he employs would say that it does not matter. I still don't know.
I got off on a tangent. Seeing, listening, thinking- those are key. But then you HAVE to act. Or else what was the point? Finding out how you will act- THAT is the challenge. That is what I am struggling with. I don't know enough yet. Or is that just an excuse?
I'm thinking about coming back to the states and what that is going to be like for me. As Jamie reminds us, our worst days at home are vastly better than some of their best days here. Problems that seemed so huge before- I am hoping I can remind myself to put things in perspective. Like my health problems for example. Yeah, they are a pain. They are hugely inconvenient. I don't feel well a lot of the time. I get sick a lot more than a lot of people. But now. After seeing all this. I know how privileged I am. I know how much worse it could be.
Anyway. Those are my random thoughts going around my head right now. I wrote this in preparation for a paper we have to turn in for the class, so hopefully I can rework this into a coherent essay. We'll see how that goes.
More pictures!
Jamie, Stephanie, Sarah and Emily on Jamie's last day:
Shower! (Freezing cold today)
Cabin at the lake:
The market at the lake:
The sunset tonight! Holy crap.
Tea field:
SORWATHE:
More at the lake:
The next month..
I am back at the Entusi Center on Lake Bunyonyi for about the next five or six weeks. I'll be working on some research projects, papers, and hopefully shadowing some doctors, nurses and midwives at the local hospital. I will also be attending and helping with the Women's Leadership Retreat! I will be updating when I know more! The next two days will be rest and recovery for me as I developed a sinus infection in Rwanda. It's good to have a place to call home for the next month.
Nyamata Church
We just left Nyamata Church. A memorial site of the Rwandan genocide. Over 50,000 people are buried here. I can't form complete sentences about the experience, for there aren't adequate words. Piles and piles of clothes of the victims left for remembrance. Children's clothes. A small striped t-shirt. Bullet holes in the walls, in the roof. Blood on the brick. Wooden crosses strewn across the floor. Bones. Skulls. Mass graves. They were slaughtered in their place of worship. Where they thought they would be safe. Protected. Beads and rosaries left behind on their bodies. Where was god? How can humans do this to one another? How is there such evil? And how can we possibly act like we are not of one another. Like we do not feel and bleed the same? How horrible those moments must have been. Fear for yourself, your loved ones. Your people. Your faith. How terrifying the aftermath. How can we possibly endure in the face of such horrific tragedy?
But how can we not? I walked outside to the courtyard after being in the mass grave underground, hardly able to breathe. To know this happened here on this spot. To these people. To know it is happening still to others. As I walked, I looked up and saw a purple budding tree. How can such beauty exist here? How does it dare grow and flower here on this ground? And yet. It does. And yet Rwanda goes on. And yet neighbor embraces neighbor. Yet people still believe. Rwanda forgives.
There were memorials and flowers in the church that read "never again." Why must we learn such difficult lessons at the expense of others? Why does it take us so long to learn? Why must we continue to repeat and turn a blind eye as if we do not already know?
We have to learn from the audacity of that purple budding tree. Daring to grow. Daring to find beauty. Daring to forgive and to learn. It sounds so simple and I know it is not. And yet. It is all we have.
Some pictures
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