The plight of the African child

Enjoy!

Riots continue in Kampala

Yesterday I was informed of the riots that are ongoing in Kampala, Uganda. Knowing firsthand how peaceful Uganda is, I assumed that it would only last for a couple hours but this morning when I read this article on the BBC, I started to get nervous.

Watching the video brought a lot of discomfort. I had just walked those streets less than two months ago. The first scene is one that looks very familiar. I'm pretty sure we went shopping down those roads during our first week in Uganda. I remember looking out onto the city from the second floor of a building. The only thing unruly about Kampala was the way people were driving.

The second scene shows an alley with blazing fires. Those alleys are found all over Uganda and could be any number of places that I've been to.

All of this is pulling at the heartstrings and even though I wasn't particularly fond of my experience in Uganda this summer, my heart goes back to my time spent there.

I made friends in Kampala and Arua. Many of them are still there and it is not uncommon for them to travel between the two cities.

Also, as I'm writing this entry my eyes are drawn down to the sparkling diamond ring on my left hand. I met and got engaged to the love of my life in Uganda this summer. He's still in Uganda and is set to come home on October 21. Although Dave is an 8 hour drive from the capital city and faces incredibly slim chances of being affected by the riots, I'm still nervous.

Before going to Uganda, I would have brushed past this story as just another African riot but seeing the country (even in a peaceful state) brings a connection to this story that I never thought was possible.

When researching international stories for my articles, I had always said that it was easy for me to attach myself to a news story and empathize with the people who are killed by massive earthquakes or washed away by tsunamis. I'm recognizing now that my feelings then were more about sympathy, rather than the empathy that I so ignorantly thought I felt.

I still haven't walked in the shoes of a local Ugandan but the emotional attachment I've gained from a short visit to such a beautiful country works away at my heart more than I could ever attempt to explain.

This is not the Uganda I know:


This is:

27 blog posts and 10 weeks later

I've been back in Canada for a couple days now and I'm still fighting off the jet lag. It's noon here in Oshawa but in Arua it's 7pm and that means supper time.

I was supposed to come home on July 20 but I got to the Heathrow Airport in London and I had no desire to stay. I tried to tell myself that it would be a cool adventure to wander around London by myself for a few days (despite the minimal funds in my bank account) so I found a pamphlet with all the public transit times and maps. My hostel wasn't even on the map. Serves me right for choosing one that's out of town.

Back upstairs I went. I went out into the fresh air to search for a taxi only to discover that it would cost nearly $200 to bring me to my hostel. Not a chance!

Another thought crossed my mind: "What if I just went home?" So, I visited the Air Canada desk to try my luck. The lady there said that she had space on a flight at 12:35 pm but it would come at a cost. Looking at me with worry, I wondered the damage.

To my surprise it was only going to cost $150 to fly home in just five hours from then! Of course, I took it.

I checked in, went to Starbucks and spent the last of my British pounds on the tastiest Vanilla Latte I've had in my life, and read a little more of the Kite Runner while I waited.

Getting on that plane was one of the most anticipated moments of the past couple months. I was going home :)

I curled up in a ball under my blanket and because the movie screens were broken I was left to my thoughts of the past ten weeks in Uganda and wondered what life was going to be like back in Canada.

Luckily the 4am phone call I made to my little brother Andrew paid off and my dad was waiting there for me when I got off the flight. It felt good to breathe Toronto air (a sentence I never thought I'd say). It felt great to have a BBQ with my family for supper and it felt amazing to have a nice, hot shower.

I'll still be writing a couple more blogs. Although it might not seem as interesting because I'm not in Uganda anymore, there are a few more topics I'd like to touch on so try to check back over the next month and I'll let you all know when my photo gallery comes out on the Cord Weekly website as well as when my articles are published.

Thank you to everyone who supported my trip (financially and morally) and thanks for reading this blog faithfully. Writing gave me something to do during the ridiculous amount of downtime I had in Uganda.

Almost home

It's my last night in Uganda and it's a bittersweet feeling. I came here thinking that I had no expectations. It was going to be a carefree trip and whatever happened was okay with me. Well, I realized that I had many expectations.

I hoped to work with a passionate and intelligent group of people - some of them were while others not so much. I expected to be inspired to write and I actually became so overwhelmed with things to write about that it's somewhat difficult to formulate all of my thoughts into one coherent thought.

This blog likely turned out to be very negative but I'd prefer we use the word cynical. I was cynical of Ugandan culture and government. I was cynical of the local people as well as the other Canadians I was working with. Above all, I was very cynical (or rather, critical) of the organization I worked for.

Yes, I'm excited to come home and after a few days in London, I'll be right back in Pearson airport. Almost three months ago our flight was delayed by about eight hours and I couldn't wait to get out of that airport. It seems a little dramatic but I might just be kissing the ground of that airport when I arrive home on July 20.

It's difficult for me to reflect right now because I'm still in Uganda but I know this summer provided me with an incredible learning experience and it wasn't until after one of our last group meetings that I thought to myself that I shouldn't have taken this opportunity for granted.

The people I met here are incredible. The random locals were all very friendly. Sometimes it seemed as if a day didn't go by that they didn't ask us for money or footballs but emergency aid from white people is all they understood when they saw us.

The good friends that I made here are unforgettable. Maya is a hilarious woman and despite cultural differences she gives great advice. Gillian is a beautiful young girl that welcomed us to Uganda and was sad to see us all go. Her trouble-maker daughter, Rosette is a riot too.

Robert, our night guard is indescribable. For a man that's taken a few bullet wounds and carries around a bow and arrow to protect us, it's surprising how sweet he is. He listened intently and never asked us for a single unreasonable thing.

There are so many people that I could mention: Patrick, the bartender at the hotel down the road or Lucy, the greatest cook in Uganda. This post is getting too long though and I have to repack everything I own for my quick trip to London.

So on a final note, it's the relationships that I made that I'll remember the most about Uganda. Soon I'll forget about the terrible food, the triple decker bunk bed and the burning garbage smell. It's unlikely that I'll keep in touch with everyone I met but that's okay.

When my new Ugandan friends asked when I was coming back to visit, I told them I probably wasn't. It seems harsh to say to someone but I owe them the truth. I have no intention of going back and it's not exactly because I had a rough time here (because I'd take this experience again in a heartbeat) but because I have more places in the world that I want to see. And to be honest, all I can think about right now is going back to Canada, visiting friends in Waterloo, chatting with the Cordies in the office, eating dinner with my family, pigging out on junk food with my Oshawa girls (damn, I miss you guys!) and then heading out to New Brunswick for Alex and Bethany's wedding and visits with the coolest family in the world.

*sigh* Five more days! :)

Murchison Falls

A few weekends ago, we went to Murchison Falls for a safari. I brought my camera with me but being the amateur that I am, I left my memory card at home so the following photos are ones that I've stolen from Krysten.

This is me and Krysten in the back of the matatu that we travelled around in. It's a small, white van that people use as taxis here. On the second day I rode on top of the matatu - slightly dangerous and very painful but a lot of fun.


I forget what these are called but they have cool antlers. Help me out if you know.


Obviously this is a giraffe. I thought that the novelty would wear off by seeing so many of them but we were just as excited with the first one was saw as we were with the last one we saw. I'm sure that our driver wasn't too impressed with us wanting to stop at every giraffe sighting.


This is the Ugandan national bird:


We're watching a hippo :)


Speaking of which, when we were finished our tour for the day, our driver took us to a spot where many people stay just outside of the park. Every day there's a mother hippo that comes up to the grounds and eats the grass.

We got pretty close despite the fact that hippos kill people.

We stopped for lunch before our boat tour down the Nile and we found these lovely warthogs hanging out beside the tables. Everyone was shooing them away but our group liked them. And yes, we did sing Hakuna Matata everytime we saw a warthog.


As we went down the Nile, there were hippos and crocodiles everywhere. These guys look like they're fighting but apparently crocks keep their mouths open as a cooling mechanism. I like to think these ones are kissing ;)


Our final destination:


Okay, so it's not quite Niagara Falls but the journey there was incredible.

Last but not least, my favourites, the elephants!


And another one, for good measure:


That's pretty much it. There were a bunch of really terrible parts to that weekend but it's not even worth mentioning because overall, it was an awesome time. It was definitely a weekend to remember.

The straw the broke the camel's back

Since the day we arrived in Uganda, it was clear that the locals had created a divide between them and the white people in our group.

Yep, this post is about race - I'll do my best not to offend anyone

Many people would stare at us as we walked down the street. While we were trying to get used to crossing the busy roads of Kampala, drivers would often pause to let us pass when they wouldn't give the time of day to any local person.

The second day we were in Kampala we requested a meeting with the opposition leader (the Ignatieff of Uganda) and we were granted with the opportunity that afternoon. Our friend Carol, who had been showing us around Kampala, told me that she was so happy that day because there's no way she would have ever had the chance to meet someone as high-profile as him.

There have been a couple times where we needed boda bodas (the main form of transportation in Uganda) and boda drivers would stop, attempt to kick off their passenger in order to allow us on. None of us have ever accepted those rides, no matter how much we may have wanted to.

Similar situations occur all the time. One day the guys went to play basketball at a school nearby. I went to take photos and because the school grounds are covered in dirt, one of the students went into the school and returned with a chair for me so that I didn't have to sit on the ground. There were adoring children everywhere and there wasn't a chance in the world that I was going to sit in the almighty chair and have the kids running circles around me at a lower level. They were shocked when I plopped a couple of small girls into the chair and opted for the ground.

One of the most upsetting instances though was when a few of us went to the clinic in town. We were all feeling sick so we went for malaria testing (the results are another story in itself). Because I was feeling so nauseous that day, I chose to ignore the fact that we bypassed all of the people in the waiting room. After seeing one "doctor" we had to wait in a hallway for the second "doctor" to take our blood.

As Amber and I waited, there was a woman that was clearly in immense pain. She was curled up in a ball, moaning, with tears streaming down her face. The doctor approached us and we pointed to the woman beside us and said that he should take her first. Instead he picked up the woman and put her into a dingy room to wait while we went in. I can only assume that he misunderstood us, thinking that we wanted the woman out of our sight.

I have been undecided on whether or not most of these acts of kindness were because the locals wanted to treat us well because we are guests to the country or because we are white. I kept telling myself that these were all random acts of kindness but it became very apparent last night that the locals have created a huge divide between themselves and us white folk. They have put us on a pedestal and surprisingly, it doesn't feel nice.

We went to a club called Sasha last night. We were having a wonderful time, taking back a couple drinks and dancing around for our last night out in Arua. Then, as is unfortunately expected at any bar, one guy started to grab at all of us girls. We were handling ourselves fine but all of a sudden it seemed like every guy in the bar started fighting. Our guys were being backed up by the new friends we made and a few skirmishes later, the sketchy guy was being dragged out of the club.

None of us really wanted to go home but I figured I'd go downstairs to check on everyone. Tensions were high as I reached the group of people that kicked out the bad dude. The worst part is, they literally kicked the guy out of the club. One of our new friends came back in and his shirt was covered in blood. Apparently they gave him a solid beating.

This made all of us feel very uncomfortable because we didn't intend for anyone to get hurt. I was ready to go back upstairs and start dancing until the bouncers told us that "no white people were allowed to leave the club."

That was the end of that for me. I was furious. I tried to leave but no one would let me "for my own protection". I wasn't concerned for my safety (although looking back, maybe I should have been) but it was very upsetting to think that some of the people we came with, Tk, Gillian and Jospeh, were able to leave the club if they wanted because they're black but we had to stay inside because we're white and we apparently needed protection.

Last night my frustration was mistaken for feeling like we were being oppressed but in fact, it's the complete opposite. It was an extreme case of the everyday attitudes the the locals have toward us.

I absolutely despise that we are treated better than everyone else because we're white. It's not even because we're guests or because we're foreigners but nine times out of ten, it's because we're white and it's that simple. It's impossible for me to get inside the heads of Ugandans but in my short time spent here, my humble guess would be that it's because white people have money and supposedly that means we have power over everything.

The whole thing makes me sick and has been the main source of my daily anger and frustrations. This is definitely a sensitive topic because it's rare when everyone wants to talk about race issues. I recognize that people go through worse things because of the colour of their skin and so this may not even be my place to speak about it but I have a public outlet to discuss these issues so here I am. If I can get this angry about receiving the positive effects of racial divides, I can only imagine how people feel that receive the negative effects of racism.

It upsets me the most that there are a lot of people in the world that still hold true to their racial divides (whatever they may be). I don't like being called Mundu or Mzungu (white foreigner) and I don't like that people give me special treatment because I'm white. I'm not saying that we need to turn a blind eye to the various races in the world but rather recognize that there are people in the world with different skin colour, culture, religions, etc. and accept them as all the same.

I'm sure that I'm guilty of treating people differently depending on who they are whether it's an unconscious decision or it's the result of a terrible joke but the only way I know how to deal with it from here on out is to talk about it.

In case you didn't know, I love kids

This little girl is too cute not to share. If you click on the photo it will be a much better size.



That's all.

Truth

I think I've felt almost every emotion possible on this trip. I don't think of myself as a very emotional person but I'm sure that most people would disagree with that.

There have been so many times that I've felt angry and frustrated that I can't even count. Those feelings stem from arguments that I have with the people I'm working with, seeing how this country is run or even just from observing the way Ugandan culture has been built up.

I thought I had a lot of patience but there's a huge difference between dealing with a crying baby in Canada and an incredibly slow-paced culture in Uganda. My patience is tested multiple times a day here. Sometimes I let the fury build up and other times I explode. Either way, it's not pretty.

On the flip side, I have also become overwhelmed with joy here. I get excited when I have a yummy meal or see a group of children laughing. I've been moved to tears by the nature around me - sunsets from Arua Hill or seeing a herd of elephants in the distance on the Nile River.



The reason I'm talking about this is because yesterday I had three people tell me that they appreciated the honesty I speak in my blogs. But truthfully, there's so much more I could say.

When I get back home I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to talk about a lot of my experiences right away. Don't be offended, I just need to find a balance between complaining and romanticising the lifestyle here.

In any case, I have one month left and I'm sure in that month I'll have many more experiences to come with plenty of emotional ups and downs. We have two weeks left of the sports program, the grand opening of the Internet cafe, a white water rafting trip, a potential visit to Rhino Camp and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (if the situation gets better)as well as some down time in Kampala. All that before a four-day trip to Europe and then home to Canada again. Wow, that's an exciting month now that I think about it.

Photographic evidence

I finally got my hands on a card reader so I'll be able to upload the photos I've been taking so far a little more often. You will get to see all of my photos in a gallery at the end of my time in Uganda but for now you'll have to deal with whatever patience I have in waiting for the photos to upload on the blog.

My favourite ones so far are pictures that I've taken of children. They are all so curious and make for the best models in town. It's easy to take photos of them because they always get so happy when they are able to see themselves on the camera immediately after snapping a shot of them.

I've found that photography has actually been the best way to put a smile on the faces of these children. Most of them have grown up seeing their parents ask white people for money or perhaps their teachers have taught them that foreigners are rich. Either way, it's rare to go a day without having someone ask for money, a soccer ball or assistance in one way or another. It's heartbreaking to say no to them but I just don't have the funds to provide for their immediate needs and neither do any of the other students that I'm working with at PFAI.

Anyways, I've taken some great shots of the kids I've run into so far and I want to share them with you.

This is Frank

Frank s very shy and has only recently started opening up to me. He is three years old, Ayiko's nephew and is the son of my new friend Maya.

Actually, here's a photo of Maya too. She wants me to name her next child. But I think there's a catch because she also wants me to pay for Frank's school fees when I get a job. Either way, we're good friends and I'm sure that we'll stay friends for as long as possible.




The next photo is of a boy named Steven. He comes out to the basketball nights of our Sports Program and although he doesn't play, he seems like one of those kids that's going to be a great leader some day. Whether he becomes the leader of a country or the mafia, I'm not sure but I know he'll be great.



I have some other great photos too but I can't upload them all. You'll have to check back for my photo gallery around the end of July.

A day in the life of a Mzungu woman

Many women here marry young and they come at a cost. Men offer cows, goats and money to the potential bride's family. The more education a woman has, the better the offer.

I wondered how much a local would offer to marry a Mzungu (white person) like me. Yesterday I found out.

5 security guards at Barclay's Bank: (wave and blow kisses)
me: Bruce, the guards are blowing kisses at me.
Bruce: Hm, let's see how many cows we can get for you
me: no, no, no! Please, no.
(we walk over)

Bruce: Ngoni! (meaning, how are you?)
Guards: Mamoke (meaning, I'm okay)
Bruce: How many cows for her?
me: (embarrassed)
Guard #1: I'll give more than you can handle.
Bruce: 30?
Guards: (abrupt laughter)
Guard #2: I'll give 4. For most women, it would be 2 (which is a lie. Most people can give around 10 and numerous goats).
Bruce: No way. I have to look out for my sister.
Guards: (more laughter)

Before we left, one of the guards pulled me aside to ask for my phone number. I told him that I don't have a phone (an excuse that is true for once). His solution was to buy me a phone.

Hungry Hungry Hippos!

Every morning I wake up from dreams of eating a big bowl of Fruit Loops drowned in ice cold milk. Or a yummy omelet decked out in veggies and melted cheese.

Although we've discovered a good brand of apple juice, it doesn't quite cut it when along with the apple juice comes salty eggs that taste a little off and bread that appears to be dyed yellow. Typically, I'll just eat a couple pieces of bread and drink some very spicy tea.

The morning continues on and I think about what I'd like for lunch. My mouth is watering just thinking about a piping hot BBQ chicken pizza. I would kill for a turkey sandwich with some fresh lettuce or better yet... a pita!

Instead, we eat rice and beans. I'll give Ugandans a point when it comes to beans. I never ate beans before but here, they are fresh and very tasty. The sad part is, we eat them every day so they got boring pretty damn fast.

By the time 4p.m. comes around, it's snack time! Or at least I'd like it to be snack time. Unfortunately, the best snack you can find around here is fried white ants. Not exactly ideal in my mind.



By 7p.m. all I can think about is lasagna with garlic bread and a fresh caesar salad. The weather here is perfect for BBQ food. A cheeseburger or even a single hot dog with some real ketchup would do me just fine right now.

Sadly, we eat rice (again) and maybe some cabbage salad. If we're lucky we get chapatti - basically a fried pita that you can't open.



I try to eat the meals but a lot of the time I just can't do it so I turn to the incredible fruit this country grows. The juiciest pineapple, the tastiest watermelon and the freshest mangoes you will ever find are here.

Another option is going to the Irani-run supermarkets to buy expensive and obscure flavoured Pringles. I do that quite often.

So you see, I can say that I've adapted to the food but if I'm being honest with myself, I've just found ways to avoid it and live off fruit and Pringles.

Happy Birthday

Every year most of us expect some sort of celebration on our birthday, whether we like to admit it or not. It's part of our culture and it has become a norm.

Tonight we went to a fancy restaurant for Aseena's 20th birthday. She is Ayiko's wife and to be honest, I don't really know her. I'm not even sure that's how to spell her name.

Today Krysten and I went to town to buy her presents, cleaned and decorated the living room, and Krysten got her a cake and made reservations at the restaurant. As we were wrapping Aseena's presents we were grumbling and complaining because we were organizing most of it.

It was frustrating because she is never the friendliest person to us and somehow we had to pull together the party of the century. The party was probably the worst celebration I have ever taken part in. Really.

But things changed quickly when Aseena told us that she hadn't celebrated her birthday since 2000. She spent that birthday with her late mother and a cake that "wasn't as good" as the one sitting before her (a cake that I didn't think was all that great).

As the tears started to come to her eyes all I could think about was how terrible I felt for complaining not even 15 minutes before. Then I thought even further back to all the birthdays that I've thrown and have expected to be thrown in my honour. It's a weird feeling to understand how grateful and ungrateful I am, all at once.

Africa is tough. My heart breaks every day. And as they told us as soon as we got off the plane, "nothing is as you expect it to be."

Miss Arua was rigged

We witnessed corruption firsthand... at a beauty pageant.

A couple of weeks ago we met a man named Moses. He is a local Ugandan and a salesperson for Club - the only beer that tastes mildly good warm.

We thought we had a great setup with our constant supply of cheap crates. And when he invited us to the Miss Arua contest and requested for a few of us to be judges, we thought it would be a great idea. But as it got closer to the beginning of the pageant, I think we were all questioning whether or not it was the best idea for members of an NGO (that puts a focus on gender mainstreaming) to attend such an event. We decided to go for the cultural experience - or at least that was our lame excuse.

Emily, John and Trevor were announced to the audience of about 500 as, "International judges from Canada!!" With a couple of laptops on the table, they were essentially made into a spectacle.

In Uganda, we've noticed that many people stare at us because we're white. We even have a special name (Mzungu) so that when we're walking around town, the locals have a distinct way to call out to us. Although it's difficult to explain without experiencing it, I know the locals have good intentions so, we just comply. This pageant was a little out of hand though, even aside from the clear agenda that we were being used for a certain image.

When Moses approached John before the contest began to tell him that he had already decided the winner, the whole thing went downhill pretty quickly. Well, as far downhill as it can go from a beauty contest that is solely based on looks. Not to mention, the "musical artists" that were performing songs via lip-syncing in between the rounds.

It was hell.

As soon as the contest ended, we rushed out of the venue immediately. I know why I don't like beauty contests but this was unreal. The amount of anger I felt that night was out of control but the feeling of my heart shattering into pieces was definitely trumping the anger.

Typically we hear about corruption within a government but there is a direct connection between those governments and that particular beauty pageant. Moses could be viewed as the government officials that will be ousted eventually and only look bad in the eyes of those who know about the corruption. Those of us who knew about what Moses was doing and didn't confront him, out of a feeling of powerlessness, are the members of the ruling party that passively partake in corruption by working in direct accordance to those committing the crimes. While the girls in the competition and the naive audience are merely the citizens of the country that no longer have a choice in who is running things.

The Miss Arua contest was a small scale operation but it affected so many people. Essentially, I took part in that small scale corruption because instead of standing up for my beliefs after discovering the true nature of the contest, I remained seated until the end of the show.

That's just it. The Miss Arua contest was not a contest at all but rather, a show. The funniest part (although I probably shouldn't laugh) is that Moses lost the computer that he was using as an accessory for the "rich," white judges.

I'm not too concerned for him.

Mo' money, mo' problems

No matter where you go, people are consumed with money. In Canada we have the little problem called consumerism. We have too much money and we spend it on the most useless things.

When many countries started announcing that they were falling into recession, the western world went a little crazy. Many compaines started laying off employees and many more people decided that they were going to be tighter with their money.

You would think that the problem in North America is that we have more money than we can handle and that's why we're so focussed on it but I've noticed that people in Uganda are just as consumed with money, even if they don't have it.

People will do anything to get by. I talked to one lady that used to smuggle medicine across borders. She would sell the drugs and then use the money to pay for food for her children.

When we first arrived in Uganda, many of us noticed that families would have advertisements painted on the front of their house. I can only guess that they do this to make money.

A couple of people working on the construction in our compound have been caught stealing. One worker tried to steal a bag of nails - almost worthless - and we found out that he was doing so to pay for his sick child's medicine.

These kinds of things happen all the time and unfortunately, I don't really have a solution for it. I would say to get a job and work hard but I've met some of the hardest working people and still, they get paid barely enough to get by.

I guess one solution could be for us in the western world to stop spending our money on ridiculous things like expensive beauty products and fancy cars. With the money we save, we could sponser a child so that they get the food and education that they deserve.

We take for granted the fact that we have free education up to the end of highschool. That's the real killer here. Many students are far behind on their studies because they can't pay for their school fees. Just to take a test can cost around 150,000 shillings. That equals about $100.

What is chump change for us can mean a world of difference to a student that is working hard just to put food on their plate for dinner.

Just a little teaser

Before coming to Uganda I decided that I would write at least two human interest pieces. Mission complete... well, almost. I have both of my subjects (who I can now call my friends) and have finished intense interviews with both of them.

The first one is a boy named Patrick. He works on the construction site at our compound and has suffered great loss in his life. We're trying to help him out as much as possible but inevitably, we're showing extreme favouritism.

The thing is, everyone here has a story. Everyone has lost someone close to them, has encountered near-death experiences or lives in extreme poverty.

The woman that I interviewed works for the president and has an absolutely insane story. She's been through a couple marriages, has dealt with the most extreme circumstances and has somehow come out with a strong faith in God and a smile on her face.

We all want to help every single person that we hear the stories from but I know we can't save the world and help everyone. Despite all of the complaining I did when I was sick (a couple blog posts back) it's nothing compared to the stories that we hear in Uganda. Yet, the people here are happy and friendly - at least, when we're around.

All that to say, look out for some solid human interest pieces. I've never been so inspired in my life so I'm excited to write them.

"We're the conquerors of the world!"

I'm sitting at what is typically a very peaceful hotel, taking advantage of their constant electricity, but there is a group of about six or seven men, making the amount of noise that you would expect to hear from a large group of people.

These men are drunk and shouting at each other with crazy passion. They're taunting one another. A few of them even approached me to find out what my view is on their intense argument.

Some of them are claiming that they are the conquerors of the world. Others are becoming visibly upset. A portion of the group who was here when I first arrived has left the building because they can't stand the shouting of the opposing side. I'm about ready to leave too.

The reason they're fighting? It's not over politics or over the current state of Uganda - a country that consists of numerous accounts of gender oppression and poverty.

No, they have become this passionate over football (soccer).

One man asked me who I was cheering for. I have absolutely no clue but I heard chants of Manchester United winning so in fear, I answered, "Man U." I had no idea what his reaction would be but he seemed pleased with my answer and moved on.

I assume my answer was a good one because he just got on the phone to call an Arsenal fan who is apparently in a coma right now, just so he could tease him about the Man U win today.

That (aside from everything getting done "tomorrow") is Uganda in a nutshell for you.

Reality

No matter how much I read and mentally prepared myself for this crazy adventure, it wasn’t enough until I started experiencing it. For the many months leading up to our departure, I was so excited and had this idea in my head about how life was going to be here. My vision included various thoughts about the people here and how they live their lives but I never took into consideration the fact that I would need to adjust to it – physically, mentally and emotionally.

It’s really tough here and every day I think about going home. I don’t feel like I have a purpose here. Back home it’s so easy to stay busy and accomplish so much in one day but in Arua, Uganda, everything works at a much slower pace, including me.

I’ve become very weak in recent days. The food is difficult to adjust to and although I try my best to finish my meals, it’s a very rare occasion when I actually do. I’ll often eat half of what’s on my plate and quickly begin to feel nauseous. Since I don’t finish my meals, I become weak and tired, often leading to a lack of appetite. The vicious cycle continues every day.

Yet, with all this complaining, I think of those who are lucky if they have one meal a day. I think of the young men that are working on the construction of our compound and how a number of them are orphans, just trying to survive each day. I think of our new friend Carol who relentlessly showed us around Kampala for the first week we were there, despite the disability in her foot that she’s had since she was born.

All of these things are what make me think twice when I complain about life here. I’ve been taken completely out of my comfort zone. Using a hole in the ground as a washroom and bucket showering with cold, rainwater on a cool morning is not my idea of fun. It really does feel like a bad vacation. I want to come home and when I do, I’m sure I’ll appreciate to comforts of Canada much more.

In the meantime, I'll try to appreciate life here. When I meet interesting people, my reason for being here becomes clearer but right now I'm just trying to figure out if it's worth it.

Happy mother's day... for some

At 10am today, a four-week old baby girl passed away due to malaria and pnemonia. Her mother has four other children, works in the local government and I've been told is a very humerous woman. But today we attended the funeral that celebrated the short life of this baby and it was absolutely heartbreaking to see that woman - on this year's mother's day - to be torn apart by witnessing the death of her child.

We sat outside on colourful, woven mats under a large tree. A group of women dressed in traditional wear approached us and after mutual greetings, the ceremony began. The mother of the child that passed away remained silent for most of the ceremony. She covered her face with her hand but when she did look up, the pain in her eyes was indescribable.

Vicky, a woman dressed in a bright orange dress, spoke with intelligence about the issues that women deal with in Uganda. She explained to us that the population of Uganda is made up of more women than men. Many men will marry three or four wives, leaving the women to compete for the love of the man. This often means that women will do everything they can to provide a comfortable life for their husband, leaving the children with little. The result is malnutrition and often, death.

I'm not sure of the exact circumstances of this particular situation but the loss of a child is likely the most heartbreaking experience a person can go through. I can't say this from personal experience but just looking into the eyes of that woman made me realize how much we take for granted in Canada because infant mortality is so much more prevalent in African countries than back home.

That woman (and many others that have similar experiences) have to move on from the grief very quickly. She has the rest of her family to take care of, her job to return to and her community to encourage. But she appears to be strong and I hope that she heals from this.

On that sobering note, happy mother's day to both the mothers and the children of the world.

The Mzunga adapts well

I'm finally in Uganda. It's been five tough months of fundraising efforts, an eight-hour delayed flight and an inappropriate blog post later (see previous post) and here I am, sitting in my single bedroom, listening to the rain and taking advantage of the limited Internet access I have.

The days have been packed full of activity and every time I go to bed, I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow - despite having to adjust to the the foreign concept of a mosquito net.

Yesterday was very interesting. We met with an official from CIDA as well as the leader of the opposition in Uganda. Although I'm not incredibly interested in schmoozing with politicians and people that have "power" it was cool to see the parliament building.

We also went to our friend Carol's house and her sister's restaurant. While we were eating, a group of boys kept poking their heads around the corner to watch us eat. After we finished eating, a few of us talked to the kids; John gave some of them Jolly Ranchers and I took some videos of them. They were overjoyed to watch the videos after so it was very encouraging to be able to put smiles on their faces - although I'm sure they would be smiling no matter what.

At the end of the following video, you'll see that there's a moment of blurriness. The kids were just so excited to see themselves on camera that they nearly ripped the camera out of my hands to watch.


The children seemed unique at first but I noticed the same smiles on their faces that I've seen on the faces of Canadian children. Sure, there are many differences between Canada and Uganda but there are many more similarities than a lot of people might allow themselves to recognize.

Before coming to Uganda, everyone was asking me if I was excited to go and were trying to feel out my emotions but to be completely honest, I wasn't excited in the way that we often identify with. I haven't recently felt the type of excitement that I felt when Reyn first told me that they wanted me to come on the trip with them. That was more like a jumping up and down, screaming kind of excitement - something I think many people were searching for in me just days prior to my departure. I think if I had been at that level of excitement so close to the trip, I wouldn't have been able to stay grounded and be able to observe to the extent that I have been able to already.

My main thought when I decided that I want to travel is to bring recognition to the fact that we are all part of one humanity. Even though all of us are guilty of searching for differences in order to maintain the "us and them" mentality, we really are all the same. Cliche but true... at least, in my eyes.

Kampala is just another city to me. I compare Kampala to a dusty version of Toronto. And actually, much friendlier. The drivers work in organized chaos and although it's difficult to cross the road sometimes, numerous people have stopped for us to cross. You'd rarely see that happen in Toronto. Whether or not this is occurring out of friendliness (which I hope) or because most of us are white, is another story in itself. But the fact is, in those instances, there is a connection there between the driver and the pedestrian because the driver can understand how difficult it can be for someone to cross the road at a peak time.

Friends that I am making here have been asking me what I find the most shocking about Uganda. I find myself searching for words. Yesterday we saw a young boy (likely disabled) standing on the street completely naked, I've seen children under the age of five begging on the street late at night, locals shout "Mzungu" (a supposedly friendly term for "white person") in my face as I walk by and bartering is still very prevalent in the markets but I haven't really been shocked by anything that I've seen yet.

In fact, after having that very conversation with David (a masters student that I'm sure I'll write more about soon) I thought about it for awhile and came to the conclusion that the only thing that I've really been taken aback by is seeing the amount of clothing that people wear in this heat.

Although I'm not sure of exact temperatures, it's hot enough to get me sweating after walking down the street, even at a slow pace. Yet, some locals run around in suits and I don't see a drop of sweat coming from them. The other day, as we were all chugging back litres of water, I saw a guy wearing a jean jacket and a khaki vest. Aside from the obvious fashion flaw, the amount of clothing he had on in that moment is what blew me away.

And now... we wait

Our flight was supposed to leave at 11:15pm and due to "mechanical difficulties", we'll be leaving at 2:30am.

There's an interesting man sitting across from me. His name is Rienus Blokland (aka. "Loco") While discussing the delay in our flight, he just said, "We can't smoke anywhere, we can't drink anywhere, what the fuck can we do in Canada?!"

They're starting to call names so I need to go check this out and I'll get back to you soon. Hopefully I'll be able to upload some sweet videos and until then, I'll leave you with a quote from my new friend Mr. Blokland:

"I will die in bed. Not dying, but making love."

Procrastination

I have an exam in less than 12 hours but I felt the urgent need to document the marvel of the towel tablet.

Enjoy.



PS - Do not swallow

Mo' money, no problems

When you have supportive friends and family, there is no reason to worry.

Last week I was so stressed out that I wasn't going to have enough money to cover my contribution to even the basics of the trip (cost of living, project costs, etc). On Wednesday I realized that I was about $500 short of reaching my goal and I was worried.

I shouldn't be so surprised but there are so many people that love me and support what this group is doing and all of a sudden, I was covered. I've been given everything from tablets that turn into towels (they're magical little things) to offers of paying for the remainder of my expenses.

It blows my mind how awesome people are. I'm not sure why anyone is ever cynical of other people because everyone that I know is amazing. If you're one of those people who is often mad at the world, you should get to know my friends and family... they'll treat you right.

*Below is a photo of everything I need to get to Uganda... well almost everything*

"Vlog"

In exactly one week I will be boarding a plane that will take me to Uganda and I couldn't be more excited.
The lovely people at The Cord have been incredibly supportive and are trusting me with a video recorder to document parts of my trip. I figured I should test it out so here is my first awkward video blog (Consider this a warning):



As I said in the video, here is a list of the projects we'll be doing:
Sport for Peace Program
This will be run almost like a day camp that you would see here. We'll likely have a different sport each week and then a huge tournament at the end of the week. The goal is to bring together different groups of kids and encourage them to leave their battles on the field.
Performance for Peace Program
We're hoping to focus this project on empowering women within the community. The goal is to observe the culture, learn about certain issues that women deal with and then create effective performances that tackle the tough stuff that Ugandan people live with everyday.
Poultry Farm
Yep, chickens. We'll be building this with our very own hands. We're hoping to create opportunities for economic development in Arua. I'll probably stay away from this one for the most part because I'm not a fan of hard labour... or chickens. But, we'll see. Maybe I'll love it.
Internet Cafe
I can see myself spending a lot of time here. What we're doing isn't as obvious as the title though. We're also hoping to create a library and possibly an education centre within. This would be a good opportunity to start up a writing workshop too.

Our group is viewing these projects with open minds. We're going to Arua with these particular projects in mind but what we really want to do is learn what the community wants and needs. My main goal for all of these projects is to share knowledge between us and the locals so that after we leave, the community-building programs and economic development projects are sustained.

As for writing, I have many ideas and every day I think of new things to write about. Here is a quick list of some ideas I have:
Life after the Rwandan genocide
You can expect this article in the International section of The Cord, sometime in the fall.
Human interest pieces
Depending on the people I meet, I'm sure I'll find some interesting stories and I hope I'll be able to share them with everyone through the In-Depth section of The Cord. They could be published anytime throughout the year so keep an eye out for them.
Happynism
This project is just beginning so I'll keep you in suspense for now but it'll be a collaborative, worldwide effort. Watch for a teaser video in the fall and then a more in-depth article with cool photos around Christmas.



Hopefully I'll get at least one more post up before I head out to Uganda and then the next time you hear from me will be when we've finally reached our destination. It's going to be a long trip with layovers in London and Dubai. We'll probably stay in Kampala for a bit before heading to Arua on an eight-hour bus ride. I'll probably do another video blog when I get there so that you can see how grungy I am.

15th anniversary

Most people know about the Rwandan genocide that occurred exactly 15 years ago. For some reason though, I can't seem to pinpoint the first time I heard about the massacre that dragged on, widely unnoticed by the international community, for 100 days. Nearly 1 million people were slaughtered and tossed to the side of the road in the days that followed the April 6 assassination of President Juvenal Habyarimana in 1994. 

At the time, I was just seven years old and naturally, I cared more about how my friends were treating me than how the Rwandan people were treating each other. After doing a quick Wikipedia search on events from 1994, it appears that Kurt Cobain's infamous suicide occurred the day before President Habyarimana was killed. I definitely recall hearing about Cobain's death so it's not as if I was completely sheltered. But it makes me wonder what's wrong with us when a celebrity's death overshadows a murderous rampage that killed hundreds of thousands of people.

While most foreigners that were situated in Rwanda at the time began to flee the country, a cameraman named Nick Hughes stuck around. On April 11, he filmed the murder of two Rwandans. The video was widely distributed through various media outlets across the globe but still, no one cared to pay attention. 

After reading an incredible article in the Toronto Star, I watched the video for the first time today. In the article, Allan Thompson described his quest to identify the two people in the video. In a trip to Rwanda a couple years after the genocide, Thompson came across a pile of corpses.

In one of the camps abandoned by civilians who had gone back to Rwanda, we came across a massacre site, nearly 20 bodies hacked apart and dumped in a heap. Some had their heads cracked open and brain matter exposed, others their entrails spilling out of body cavities. These were the first human remains I had seen outside of a funeral home, and they will always be with me. The most difficult to look at were the children, one a baby in a green woollen jumper, lying on its back, arms splayed. As if by reflex, my response was to take out my camera and step gingerly through the bodies, regarding them through my camera lens.

We've all read graphic excerpts such as this, whether it's from the Holocaust, the Rwandan genocide or the ongoing conflicts in Sudan and the DRC. It's not pleasant to read but I'm fascinated by these stories because they are so unknown. I don't know why women are raped. I don't know why young boys become child soldiers. I wish I knew why  people are driven to cause pain, but I just don't. 

In receiving the Investigative Journalism Grant at The Cord, I've promised to write an article on life after the Rwandan genocide. Because I can't turn back time and force my seven-year-old self to care about international news, the best I can do is discover the hurt that the survivors have incurred and how the genocide has affected their lives. 

As I learned from Charlote Nizeyimana, it's important not to dwell on the past - hers involving a bittersweet survival of the genocide. She did explain though, that it's important to share stories about ourselves if it helps other people to gain a better understanding of humanity. Hopefully I can be used as an instrument to deliver that understanding. 

Plane tickets, group tension and The Cord

We finally bought our tickets today. The current plan is to leave Toronto on May 1, stay in Kampala at Makerere University for three weeks, go to Arua for six weeks to work on the projects and then to Rwanda for one week. 

We have come across the opportunity to take a peacebuilding course at the university and it's a chance that I don't think we will pass up. It will build a great relationship between Laurier and Makerere, we'll learn a lil somethin' and we'll be able to create more revenue for the university there.

The idea of going to the university in Kampala has come at a cost though. We're waiting to hear back from Makerere and Peter Donahue at Laurier International to see if we can get full support from Laurier. They've already offered to pay for tuition but we're hoping to have our accommodations covered as well. 

Although, the money-side of things isn't the only cost that has come along with the decision to go to Makerere for a few weeks. There has been a lot of tension between our group in the past couple of weeks. I won't get into detail about it all but it hasn't been pretty. Basically, the group has become divided. There is a group of six that want to go to the university and two people want to go straight to Arua to work on projects. Neither side is incorrect in what they want to do but it's just a matter of figuring things out so that each of us is able to work with what we're most interested in.

Needless to say, we have all been arguing over the details of the trip, where money is being allocated and how people have been treating each other. I don't like it one bit but I think in the end it will bond us all together (if that's not too naive of me to say). But we'll wait to hear what happens between the universities and I'll keep you all posted.

On another note, last night was the volunteer appreciation dinner for WLUSP and after numerous crying spells this week (four of which occurred last night), I've come to the realization that my favourite job in the world is now over. Although my passion lies more with writing than editing and being an editor was the toughest job I've had, my position at The Cord this year has been the most rewarding experience of my life and I imagine it will be hard to beat in the future. 

Perhaps you would say, "Why is Heather talking about The Cord right now? It has nothing to do with Uganda." It actually has everything to do with Uganda. If I wasn't hired as International Editor last May, I wouldn't have had the freedom to choose the articles that went in the section, therefore, I wouldn't have discovered my passion for human interest pieces and I would never have met Tk - the dude that made this trip possible. 

In my eyes, I owe it to The Cord to remain dedicated for as long as possible. Even if I don't get the Investigative Journalism Grant, I'll still write. Except that could be tricky because I might not have anything to write about if I can't afford to go to Uganda in the first place. 

Enter: money from the IJ Grant.

Drama queen

Okay so I didn't die. The needles alone were not as bad as I thought they were going to be. It was the aftermath that I should have been worried about. 

With the pre-needle suspense building up inside my head, I was getting more and more stressed out. I felt sick to my stomach and was near tears by the time I was in the actual room waiting for the doctor to come in. John D. and I were waiting in the same room and at the time I was so annoyed with him for cracking so many jokes but in hindsight, I'm glad he was there. I probably would have run out of the room if I had gone in alone. 

Soon the doctor came in to give us all the information we needed but thinking back, I couldn't tell you a thing she said to me. I just nodded and fake-smiled until she left. 

Next was a nurse. She pulled out a couple sets of needles - two for John and two for me. Then she left us to stare at them for a good ten minutes until yet another doctor came in. 

I went first. The doctor jammed the yellow fever needle into one arm and it wasn't so bad. To be honest, I didn't even notice. He moved over to my other arm with a needle that contained vaccinations for Hepatitis A and Typhoid. That one was much worse. I could feel the pin going into my arm and it was not pleasant. I held my breath, which probably wasn't smart because it tensed up my whole body. Finally, it was over for me.

I closed my eyes during John's turn and then ran out as soon as it was all done. We each dropped $270 for these shots. I thought it was amusing that they gave us the needles and then made us pay. What would they have done if I didn't have the money? It's not like they can suck the yellow fever out of me (although I wish they would). 

After waiting around for about 15 minutes to make sure that no one passed out, we were all released. Then I went to the Cord office to meet Laura for lunch but as we were sitting down to eat our sandwiches, I started to get really dizzy and nauseous. I bet she can attest to the fact that I was really out of it. I attempted to recall some current news events (because we're nerdy and that's what we talk about over lunch) but I could barely form a coherent sentence. 

By the time I got home after lunch, I was feeling so sick and my arms were very sore from the shots. I tried to do some work but ended up spending the rest of the day in bed. I slept for about 12 hours last night and felt quite a bit better in the morning. I'm still not sure if my loopyness was a result of the live yellow fever inside me, the self-induced stress or merely a lack of sleep.

The worst part about this is, I discovered that I have to go back in a month to get an update on my measles, mumps and rubella. Luckily they're free but if I get as stressed out as I did yesterday, there's no telling what will happen. 

Although, my favourite part about yesterday's awful adventure to the travel clinic was realizing that I'm actually going to Uganda and Rwanda this summer. If that's what I had to do to get to Africa, it's worth it. It's not something I would want to do every day but perhaps every other day if I had to.

Next big challenge: raising enough money to get to Uganda in order to put these vaccinations to good use.  

No needles, please

Today is vaccination day. I am nervous.

I think I was awake until 3am, slept until about 5:30 and then was in and out of sleep until 8:30. At 11am (oh man, that's two hours away as I write this) I will be getting a bunch of shots. 

To be completely honest, I don't even remember which ones I'm getting because any time the group talked about needles, I didn't want to listen. But I think I'm getting yellow fever, typhoid and there's something else. This is one area where I feel okay not being totally informed.

Needles (or anything medical) freak me out almost as much as spiders - another thing I might have to deal with this summer. 

Okay, this is a short post because I thought that writing would calm my nerves. Turns out I was wrong; I'm still shaky and I'm late to start getting ready for the day. 

Look out for my next post this afternoon when I wallow in self-pity. 

Performance for Change

On Friday night we hosted a successful fundraiser at Wilf's, called Performance for Change. We had some wonderful acts and I was glad to see the effort everyone put in. I definitely appreciate the passion I see in each Future of Africa volunteer but what really amazed me that particular night was seeing the support I had from my friends. 

After becoming what I felt was an ugly marketing machine, I was surprised to see a great number of friends come out to show their support. I had been talking to one of the guys that's going on the trip and he was saying that his roommates didn't even come out to support him. It struck a rare emotional chord inside me, helping me to realize just how valuable friendship is. 

(Warning: bragging is about to ensue)

How is it possible that I had three Cord editors, past and current roommates, friends from church, friends from first-year, a volunteer writer/friend and two incredible musicians that I met randomly through a friend, come out to support not only me but a group of people they don't even know? 

When looking around the room that night I felt both incredibly lucky and sad. Although I've been jokingly telling everyone I'll probably never see them again after I leave, in that moment I felt like that was partly true. I'm going to do my best to keep in touch and obviously I have amazing friends that I hope will try to do the same (it can't be that difficult with Facebook, right?) but I can't help but think that the changes I'll be making to my life in the next year can either make or break relationships. 

Despite all the unsettling emotions that come along with graduating, leaving the country for ten weeks and eventually job-hunting in foreign countries, I found a sense of peace that night in the moments where I was able to look each of my friends in the eyes and genuinely thank them for their financial and more importantly, for their moral support. 

*In case anyone was wondering, even though I came to the solid realization that my friends are totally awesome, the 50/50 draw that I conducted was not rigged so that Laura Carlson would win while I was sitting at the same table as her.*

I'm not in Uganda yet.

Although I love writing, blogs are not my favourite thing in the world. I've attempted many an failed miserably. I've created templates and then never visited the blog again. More recently, I've written three or four entries and then gave up. I've got a good feeling about this one though. Mostly, because people keep asking me when I'm going to start up a blog for the trip. 

You might be wondering where I'm going (if the title isn't clear enough). In May I'll be going with a group of Laurier students to Uganda and Rwanda for ten weeks. We're doing volunteer work within a community in Uganda under Peace for all International. We'll be working with children, local businesses and wherever else we're needed. Because this is the first group of people going from the newly created campus club, Future of Africa, our main goal is to build solid relationships with the people we come into contact with so that future trips will be able to work even more closely with the community members. 

I guess this all started last June when I met (who is now a great friend of mine) Tk. I interviewed him and wrote a profile piece for The Cord and we instantly became friends. After the interview I remember Tk asking me to go to Rwanda with him someday. Although seemingly sketchy, I said, "sure thing". Little did I know, six months later, I'd be planning a trip to Uganda and Rwanda with him and an awesome group of people. 

Tk started a campus club called Future of Africa and asked me to be on the advisory board. I accepted the offer for two reasons: I really believe that he is going to go far in life and achieve some of his greatest goals and I really wanted to be part of the beginning of that. The other reason was because it was going to be something I could commit a small amount of time to since I had so much else going on. Wrong. When I foung out they were planning a trip to Uganda, I applied immediately. After being accepted onto the trip, my involvement mulitiplied and I couldn't be happier.

So now here I am, writing about the trip as though it's going to be as easy as pie to get there. It's going to take a ridiculous amount of fundraising and I'm nowhere close to where I should be. Of the approximately $4,000 I need to raise, I have gathered $750. Thank you to those who have given but I still have a long way to go. It's getting close to flight-purchasing time ($2,300) and we'll be getting our vaccinations soon ($600 upfront but only $150 after reimbursement - Thank you health plan!). 

I'm not overly concerned about it all because I've applied for a couple of grants and will be applying for the Investigative Journalism Grant at The Cord but I can't bank on those to get me there. For anyone who knows me, you know I'm a stubborn little girl but I really do need help this time and will fully accept whatever you can do. You'll see there is a donation button to the right of this post or you can email me personally and we can work something out (whether it's mailing a cheque or a direct deposit). 

Another way you can help financially is by attending fundraising efforts like John's benefit concert at Wilf's on Friday, Emily's bakesales or Reyn's bazaar in the Concourse. I'm hoping to have a coffee house of sorts in the Grad Pub on March 13 so clear your calendar if you're in town and let me know if you would like to participate. 

As always, let me know if you have any ideas at all for fundraising or suggestions for what to bring to Uganda. I also strongly encourage prayers as well. I definitely believe that God will answer prayers and if they're collective, all the better. 

I'll do my best to keep you guys updated on life leading up to Uganda and if there's anything specific you want to hear about, I'm open to topic ideas. By the way, if you were wondering, "postikadi" is Swahili for postcard.