Oct 29

Hello everyone-
Just in case u were missing my long emails, I thought i would shoot you out another one! I have had a crazy two weeks and most of my internet time has involved researching refugee issues and polygamy…but heres a wee update:

I forgot to tell everyone about all of the funny questions that I was asked on the rural homestay. As previously mentioned I was with another person from my group, a boy named david. David has slightly dark hair, almost black. My homestay family thought we were from different countries because we had different color hair. I tried to explain that in America there are many colors of hair…trying to explain was probably the best, as there was nothing to compare it with, so I pointed to some dried straw thatch and tied to explain that it was a hair color…that was one of the best moments.

Last week I got in a fight with a Ugandan MP (member of parliament)…this shouldn’t surprise anyone. He was talking about the domestic relations bill. It is a bill that hs been on the table here in Uganda for twenty years. It deals with women’s rights and marriage issues, that sort of thing. This jerk was trying to talk about it and what a pity it was that it hasn’t been passed etc. I knew he was lying through his teeth, so I (with the backing of several female members of my group) asked him what he personally was doing to try and get the bill passed such as lobbing etc. Well he’s a politician so he sidestepped the question just as all politicians do. Then I started sputtering and yelling about the fact that the bill hasn’t been passed in twenty years and if all the boys just sat down and hammered something out it would be done…he didn’t like me so much by the end of the day…

Sunday I moved out of my homestay! I liked living with them, but I was also sick of being treated like I was six, so I was really excited. I moved into a flat above a restaurant, and what I didn’t know before is that there’s a bar next to it. It plays REALLY LOUD music at all hours of the day or night. It’s ok when I am showering, because then I have a little dance party for myself (one night they played a Madonna retro trilogy, and I was REALLY HAPPY). They also play Michael Jackson’s Thriller a lot. This means I stand on our front balcony which faces a semi busy street and do the thriller dance and scare Africans for about 4 minutes…yeas, my new apartment is awesome. What I think is funny about apartment shopping in Africa is that my standards are SOO different than they would be in America….basically I walked around asking if apartments had flush toilets, and that was all I cared about.

Cooking has been fun. There’s no freezer food , so I hang out at a local market…my really nice area is close to one of the worst slums in Kampala, and they have a market. We went and bought tons of bananas, potatoes, cabbage, passion fruit, carrots, and other various essentials for about UGSH 3,000…about USD$1.50…I am gonna die of freight back in America when I go to the grocery store. One night we made pasta arrabaiatta…I now live in a slightly white section of town…I don’t see a lot of whites unless I go into a bar or restaurant in the area, because they don’t walk anywhere they stay in the confines of their land rovers and stare blankly at the Africans. This week we also made dinner for some friends. Curry rice, fried curry chicken, fried potatoes, beans and bread for seven people on two burners…no oven. Let’s just say we ate in “courses” as in what’s done is what we are eating right now…ooh Africa. By the time I got to Americorps whatever housing I get is going to seem LUXURIOUS!

I also started working at a refugee agency in Kampala. Wow…Idd al-Fatir was Monday (Muslim holiday marking the end of fasting for ramaddan), so I worked tues through a half day Friday (last Fridays of the month are half days around here haha). Tuesday I worked at the front desk a bit and sat in on an English class. I got to explain the difference between “excuse me” and “I’m sorry” which are used interchangeably here. I also go to explain “I’m sorry.” All of these things are easy to act out…however when one boy asked me what behavior meant I had to think hard how to explain it in small enough words that beginners would understand. I love teaching English!

Wednesday I worked at the front desk only. I was really upset as this seems to be what they will have me doing for the first two weeks of my less than six week stay, so I wasn’t happy to begin with. Then around midday a Sudanese refugee started getting upset. He threw a temper tantrum, and several men had to come and restrain him, and haul him out the front door and across the compound where hordes of refugees wait for name to be called so they can come in and see whomever it is they want to see. Thursday I was almost murdered by a Congolese refugee who was absolutely wasted and decided to come in and yell that he was going to murder some Rwandese guy who had threatened him, He was going off on at the refugees waiting in the compound and they were visibly frightened as was I, even though I was behind some bars (the reception desk is behind a barred gate, which tells me that such occurrences happen often). He was running around without a shirt and stabbing at himself with a pen, although he was convinced that it was a gun. The Old Kampala (section of the city) Police force came out after one of the four guards that are permanently stationed at InterAid (also makes me feel weird) went and got them, and the guy was caught and placed in custody. Both men were sent back to refugee camps, because they are not allowed to stay in kampala if they are not registered with InterAid. Friday morning I was woken up at four AM, not by the bar surprisingly, but by chanting men. A HUGE group of males was running through the street chanting something and I could hear them long before they were anywhere near my flat, and long after they had passed. A small group of women followed after them chanting things. I have no I what was going on, although my roommate said it may have been military training.

Friday I got to do some interviews at work, concerning the registration of new clients (newly arrived refugees in Kampala have to register with interAid). I worked with a somali translator, and it was pretty cool. Then at about midday here I went to a Somali slum near where I work, and ate some Somali food. With my hands. That’s pretty normal here…but the food consisted of rice and pasta, so I spent most of my time watching how to do it and then trying not to spill all over my little polo and white skirt. Surprisingly I didn’t miss my face once! Then I spent the next several hours waiting to get my hands and feet tattooed/ actually getting them tattooed with henna. (Don’t worry mom and dad, henna means it wears off in a few months). Basically I have never felt so pretty in my life, because I have these gorgeous flowers all over myself. The gentlemen who own the restaurant saw me last night and freaked out at me and said I looked like an Indian…Indians and muslims get themselves hennad here, so yea. As if I didn’t get enough attention already I now have Africans screeching t me about my hands and feet.

Time in Uganda:
Time here is crazy. There are exactly 12 hours of daylight, and 12 of darkness. Daylight starts at seven, and is called the first hour (ssawa amu). So 10AM local time in really local time is actually 4…(ssawa nyaa akawungazee) which means directly time 4 morning…for 10 pm, it becomes time four night (achiro) Yea, its confusing alright.

NGO’s in Uganda:
I have given up faith on such things as the World bank, IMF, and even the UN prior to my arrival here. However now I feel like maybe Ngo’s aren’t really helping either. Everywhere I go people are always asking what can you do for me? How can you help me? People want ME to lobby for THEM…n I accurately know their problems?? They don’t think they will be heard…and the problem is they won’t because politicians are so goddamn corrupt that they have no incentive to help anyone. People aren’t willing to do anything to help themselves, whether its ousting the current political machine, or anything, and I think it has a lot to do with the fact thte people are always showing up and telling Africans that no no, they are doing everything wrong. The guy I sit next to at work tried to argue that everything in Uganda will be better once they are like America…I had to offer the opinion that Uganda is not America so why should it look like America? I told him that my house in America is stupid for Uganda, because it wouldn’t heat itself or cool itself like the mud and brick houses here do…He said they needed to get machines to sweep the streets (currently women just walk up and down streets sweeping all day, which I feel is really pointless concerning the amount of dust in this city but oh-well), but hwhen I said but if you have machine it only gives one person work, not many people like now…he thought about this for awhile and decided I might be right haha
The problem I have with NGOs here stems from this type of problem:
The Ugandan government does not pay any money for medical NG…hospitals, clinics anything. The idea of insurance doesn’t exist here except for the really rich, because 80% of Uganda is not employed by companies, they sit and sell airtime or fabric out of family shops…So the entire healthcare system is run off of donor funds. There is no incentive for the government to make the switch because really, why pay for something when you can get it for free. It leaves the whole government unaccountable…so Ngo’s will just keep on serving, and he Ugandan people will look to foreigners for donations. The problem is…should Ngo’s just pull out??!? And leave everyone to die of AIDS and such? There is no easy answer to any of the questions that are constantly buzzing through my head…

Well I have to go make myself some dinner and meet up with the SIT Kenya group (I am in Uganda, and so lots of other crazy Americans are gonna be in town, so I took it upon myself to show them around. But yea, ciao!!
Sharon