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."