oct 16

Hello all…surprise! I am not dead!
I have been gone this past week on one of those crazy trips. This time we went to Mbale and Busia in the Eastern section of the country. Sunday through Wednesday morning saw my group trekking through the Eastern Mountains in the shadow of Uganda's tallest mountain, Mount Elgon. We stayed in a camp in Sippi Falls, and went hiking through the forest to probably one of the prettiest waterfalls I have ever seen. We also went spelunking, and unlike Wisconsin's Eagle Cave (oooh girlscouts…), this one had spiders and weird things crawling all over it. I still went down into the depths crawling through mud to some back cavern, accompanied by children while I wondered where their parents were, and why they allowed them to do such dangerous things unaccompanied. The children here are so much more…independent? Resilient? Than kids back home. They play with knives, rarely cry, if they do cry, no one picks them up so they learn to deal with issues on their own at a very young age. Obviously the kids aren't actually "different" they are just socialized differently, but it is interesting to see. When the power goes out no one makes a fuss or cries. It's just what they deal with daily. I think that if I treated a child in America how African mothers treat their children, it might be called neglect…but really, I think its kind of better, because you don't have crying babies and whiney, bratty kids…

Anyways, back on topic…Basically the point of this excursion was to compare the development in the East with conditions in the West, as well as living with a rural family for several days. On Wednesday me and a boy from our group named David were dropped off at a collection of small huts near Busia, in Busitema sub county. I know I say this a lot, but really I don't know what other words to use. Basically it was another "wow" experience. When we arrived, our driver casually mentioned that the man I would call "father" for the next several days had five wives, after which our "father" (James) hustled us off to the "center;" the local trading and drinking establishment. David and I sat around a pot of warm millet brew, drinking out of hallowed out sticks. It was easy to not drink too much, as the brew tasted disgusting. They also bought us some local Wrangi, a drink that you can buy triple distilled from stores in the city, but out in Busia the women brew it up behind their grass thatch huts, and I have read that it can be deadly if it is not distilled enough times. Yea I drank that.

The point of our staying in a rural setting was not only to learn about how rural peoples live, but I had to do a research project. David chose how the local people identify themselves (ie as a Ugandan, by their tribe or something else), and I chose Polygamy. We had to set up focus groups, talk to "politicians," but not the politicians you are thinking of. Each village (I stayed in a parish with seven villages) has an LC1, local council first level. This elected official is supposed to solve local disputes and lead the community, but basically just takes a lot of bribes.

For my topic it was important to hire a female translator (out in the rural areas people do not know as much, if any, English), because women in the presence of males tend to lie about their feelings. Polygamy was very prominent in my parish, and I found a woman (my "neighbor" whose English was excellent, but it was hard for her to explain to her husband why she needed to go with me instead of work in the fields. So I consequently interviewed a small number of females (mostly those who stopped by her compound while I was there hanging about). I became close to her (she called herself Faith), and she and the other wife begged me to stay and become their husbands fifth wife. I had to say it was tempting…not really though. I kind of want slightly more freedom in my life…I am certain you all understand. The second day into my rural homestay I went on a five hour hike through the seven villages. No shade. I am now a dark color on my arms and the tops of my feet. The rest of me is as white as the day I was born, which let me tell you, seems REALLY white over here. We were spending so much time walking David and I were getting nervous as to when we would find time to do our necessary interviews (I had not yet begun to hang around Faith's compound), but that night our host father took us back to the "center" and several men joined in our millet brew drink (they just threw their sticks in!)and so we began interviewing them. Interviewing a bunch of slightly intoxicated Africans as to the reasons why they are polygamous and about their condom use is a funny adventure. Many answered that they had many women because they wanted many children…which I find to be amusing because they don't actually help with them at all, just sort of make them smile a bit after they come home from hanging around somewhere all day but before they go to the center. Women did the field work, the house cleaning, cooking, rearing, birthing, fetching water…you name it they do it. And the men? Umm they sat around all day. Literally did nothing. Originally I was going to study labor divisions between genders, but the polygamy was too interesting. It's something I hadn't really ever talked to anyone about, as I did not know any polygamous families personally. Extramarital affairs certainly, but not the women all sitting around together at night nursing one another's children.

Lets talk about bath time while I was in Busia. They put a nice bucket of warm water out and a burlap sack for me to stand on, and there was some soap as well. I was impressed. The girl who originally escorted me to bath time was still standing with me, so I had a little pep talk about how nudity is nothing and slowly started undressing hoping that perhaps she would leave. Nope! I hunched as much as it was possible to hunch and threw some water on my arms feet and hair and quickly watched visible parts then threw my clothes back on and went inside only slightly embarrassed. Night two was even funnier/ more embarrassing. After I bathed I was putting on my underwear and the girl, my "sister," came over and started smoothing out the edges of my panties. I made a face of discomfort into my towel and gave a nervous giggle then threw on my clothes as quickly as possible. David, who did not get an audience for his bathing sessions, thought my stories were hilarious. It's funny, I agree, but still it was a little unnerving. My third and final bath involved two of my sisters watching me, but I figured there was no way it could get worse, and it didn't.

Friday, the third day, saw me and David sitting around a lot. At lunch time someone handed me a live chicken, and with the hand that wasn't holding a machete, motioned me to follow them. We arrived at a grove of trees at the edge of the compound, and she handed me the machete. I stared at her blankly and when she finally realized that I didn't understand the exact process that I needed to go through, she took the chicken placed it on a clump of leaves stood on the wings grabbed the beak shut and ripped out the feathers on the neck. I clearly knew what was coming, and stood around to watch. She slit the throat with a very dull knife so the chicken clearly suffered a lot, and there was a lot of blood. I was ok with it though. She then took the chicken, dangly head, feathers and all, and threw it into a pot on the fire. Mmm, lunch! Actually it wasn't just lunch, but it was dinner and breakfast too. Every part including the feet came across our plates. David was slightly more adventurous than I, and ate things like the kidneys…I stuck with what I could call "meat." We ate a lot of millet during our stay…at least I did until I saw a pig eating out of the people bowl. After that, I couldn't stomach the gelatinous brown glob anymore, and David and I rationed the food somewhat, so that I ate all of the bananas (which he hates), and he ate the millet. It worked out well.

Saturday came and it was time for us to leave. James kept asking for our stuff, specifically David's shoes. I had given away a skirt the night before, which turned out badly because then every girl wanted a skirt. SIT gave each family 100,000 UGA Shillings (about 50 USD), so it was annoying being asked. Especially since I knew the dad was just going to spend it on booze or acquiring a new wife anyways. By 11 AM we had walked over 7 KM, or about 4-ish miles. It was hot…and did I mention that my home stay was located in a baboon forest? We kept hearing them in the brush on the side of the road, and only saw them from a distance. Later in the day, after I had gotten back to the hotel (our rendezvous point), and after I had taken a PRIVATE shower, the 16 members of my group piled into one van (a 15 passenger one) and went to Kenya. Illegally. Our driver payed some border guards (I SERIOUSLY wasn't lying when I said that my parents money goes to paying fro bribes…). We just went across changed some money, had a soda, and I got a rolex (an omlette in some Indian bread), and it was basically just like Uganda, except instead of speaking Kisamyir, as they had in my village, everyone spoke Kiswahili…which everyone in America calls Swahili.

In more personal news, I got an internship today! I will be staying in Kampala, working with InterAid, an agency that helps urban refugees. I will probably be there five out of the six weeks, and then go and live in a refugee camp for a week. I am really excited! My boss, a man by the name of Francis was really funny this morning. A secretary led me to his office, and when I greeted him in Luganda, she asked him how I knew to speak it. He answered that I was a muganda, even though my nose is smaller than everyone else's. I thought it was really cute and nice. A muganda, by the way, is a person of the main ethnic group in Kampala, the Buganda. So a Muganda comes the Buganda tribe, and speaks Luganda…all in the country of Uganda. It's exciting to say out loud.

Well, thanks for reading!
Sharon
PS- if anyone wants my paper on polygamy when its finished, just write me and I will send it to you later this week (as in towards the end). I do not know if it will fit into anyone's lesson plans, but the offer is there.