Wednesday 27 June 2012

Connecting with Uganda

What did I eat? How do people live off of $1.25 a day? Join my team as we recreate the average week of eating in Uganda. It is called the Global Solidarity Challenge and it is organized by the organizatin that sent me to Uganda as a Health and Women's Empowerment Intern:
http://solidarity.videa.ca/videaday/participantpage.asp?uid=3101&fundid=1731#.T-u3sEchVNc.facebook

Some days being back in Canada feels like Utopia..other days I wonder how many diferent types of bread do Canadians really need?

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Want to donate medical supplies and textbooks to a good cause?

Send them to a new midwifery and nursing school in Kyteume, Uganda and empower countless students to learn and care for their own communities and tackle the millenium development goals.

This new universty has the necessary buildings, teachers and infastrucure but is lacking the necessary books to begin enrolling students. They tried to purchase textbooks from the U.K but each book will cost the 800 pounds to be sent over. Donate supplies and books for their library to:
...
Hope Integrated Academy
35KM Masaka-Mbarara Rd
P.O. Box 1220
Masaka – Uganda

Bea part of sustainable healthcare development!

Tuesday 26 June 2012

First thoughts upon Returning to Canada

1. Why do young Canadian men dress like slobs? They have money to dress up and yet they look like a serious haircut and shirt tucking is in order.

2. Who are all these Muzungus and what are their stories?

3. Noone is asking me who I am, they just want to take my order :(

4. Hot baths are amazing.

5. I love my washer and dryer laundry machines.

6. Everyone is in a hurry and they are stressing themselves out.

7. People are not finishing their meals and enough food to feed a child is being thrown away.

8.
DAVID: Kirsten,do you want to go out for a walk?
ME: No, it is almost dark. (PAUSE) Oh...I guess it is safe to go for a walk in the dark here, isn't it?

9.
HOST MOTHER WENDY: Just go into the grocery store and pick a loaf of bread.
ME: *Stares at 40 identical loafs of whole grain brown bread for 10 minutes.*
HOST MOTHER WENDY:  *takes a picture of the confused woman and picks a loaf of bread.*


10. HOST MOTHER WENDY: What would you like for dinner tonight? Fish, chicken, steak?
ME: Ummm...could I just have some porridge please?


Canada
Uganda

Reintegration Culture Shock

Leaving Uganda on June 16th from Entebbe Airport at 12:00 am was a different experience than arriving four months earlier on Feburary 12th. I did not mind waiting in line, did not have any anxiety about finding my gate or having all my important papers in place. Maybe I was still running on 'Ugandan time' or it could have been the fact that the airport only has four gates and my yellow fever vaccination papers were unecessary to re-enter Canada. I think the real reason is that my best friend Caroline had stuffed a letter in to my bag and I was reading it in the lineup.

Leaving the community of Kytegyme had filled me with a great saddness. Fortunetly Caroline hadtold me that I had to go back to Canada because I hadimportant things to do, and once I had finished university then I should come back. So I stood at the airport knowing that although I loved the community, my new friends and family, going back was necessary.

Walking beyond security was a culture shock in itself, just beyong the checkpoint were aisles and stores full of alcohol, make-up and magazines. I stood in front of the display window for cosmetics admiring the new colours and products. As I walked past a wall of fashion magazines I realized four months is a long enough time for me to miss Jessica Simpson having a baby, men to start wearing rolled up pant legs and no socks and for belly shirts to become the new rage.
Almost immediately after sitting down I watched two incredibly blond women, a mother and daughter, stomp towards the door. Their quick gait was enough to catch my attention as people in Uganda tend to saunter while they move. On a number of occassions I have been told I walk like a soldier and have since then tried to slow down my pace. They approached a security guard and without asking how he was, proceeded to  yell about their dogs accomodations, who was being taken on the airplane. It struck me that a dog was being taken on a plane, a privilege few people have and I knew I really was going back to Canada now.

Wednesday 6 June 2012

Quick Trips and Long Stays


There are two different types of volunteer experiences I have seen in Uganda; the people that come to be part of the community and those that come to do a quick project and leave. There is a saying in Uganda, “Not all visitors are good and not all who travel to aid others are welcome.”
Many people travel to countries like Uganda and think they have all the knowledge and they will be helping a community. Those people are sorely misinformed and will quickly realize that they will be helped as much as they help others. Helping another community requires understanding the community and their needs which requires living in that community and building connections for a minimum of 4 months. Helping is more about friendship and solidarity than “helping the unfortunates.” The longer you stay in a community the better you will realize this and have a greater chance of a life changing experience.
The other type of volunteer comes with a plan to help the community and works long hours, rushing everyone along to meet their own goals and deadlines. Due to time restraints of volunteering for a week to a month, they do not get involved in the community or make many relationships. Usually just by the time they get over their culture shock and would start to engage with the community or adjust to community standards of living they return to their countries. I have found in my experience that these people usually remain unchanged and go back to their countries thinking the same things and having the same values as when they came
To illustrate my point lets think about water use: I have met people that have walked over 20km to collect clean drinking water. I collect water with a jerry can from a tap for my laundry and bathing needs. Water, to me, now is a precious resource and a privilege. I will never again in my life waste water with a long shower. You can get just as clean with a one minute shower as you can with a 40 minute one. A team of volunteers have recently joined us for the past 3 weeks and when asked about water they commented that they would go home and have the longest shower of their life and enjoy every minute of it because they had lots of water in their country. So what life lesson have they learned?  They may come to do an incredible project like water sanitation or health care but if they treat the local community members as a disadvantaged people and not equals they will not be welcome back.

Four Months is a Long Time


I came out of the house and was greeted by a pair of the whitest male legs I have ever seen. I started to giggle, then laugh then lose my cool completely. In-between my manic giggling I apologized profusely “I am sorry, it has just been a really long time since I have seen a male Muzungus legs.” Reid, the American Engineering without Borders student stood in his bright red short shorts and long white tube socks and shook his head at me. I am sure there are many complex psychological reasons as to why I was laughing and any psychology students reading this would probably agree. Mostly though, no one bares their knees in Uganda and since everyone I see has black skin, his legs seemed to be quite the oddity.

Monday 4 June 2012

The Life of Britney Spears


Being a Muzungu in Uganda is like being Britney Spears; everyone knows your name, relationship status, eating habits, comments on your clothes and feels drawn to stare at you and might even follow you around like paparazzi.
There is not room to have an “off day” and not smile or say hello to every single person that yells out “Muzungu!” There are not many international foreigners in Uganda, much less Caucasian visitors, so it is important to be on your best behaviour because you are an ambassador for your country, whether you realize it or not. Usually I am fine with the attention but sometimes when I am really tired it feels very overwhelming and I want to hide. Usually this happens when I am talking to my mom on the phone and have three small children following me or when I exercise in the mornings and children forget they are supposed to walk to school and instead sit down to watch me.  Being a minority can be a good or bad experience depending on where you go. Muzungs are thought to have lots of money and  volunteer in Uganda which thankfully is a reputation that makes me feel welcome in the community.

It is an interesting experience being a visible minority. In Uganda I live in a village with only two other aboriginal interns and our skin makes it impossible to blend into any crowd. Repeated cries of “Bye Muzungu, Bye!” from small children remind me that I look different than everyone else. If getting followed by children while I walk, talk on the phone, eat, breathe... does not let me know that I am different there is always the language barrier. The official language of the country may be English but everyone speaks Lugandan and few people can speak English fluently.  I also get charged “Muzungu prices” for items and can be asked to pay many times more than another person would.

I had a funny experience in a taxi coming home from Masaka when the Conductor asked for 4,000 shillings for the ride. I knew the ride only cost 3,000 shillings and so did everyone else in the taxi but they were keeping quiet. “Neda Conductor, Oohle moulaloo? Masaka n Mbarara 3,000 shillings!” (No sir, Are you crazy? The price from Masaka to Mbarara is 3,000 shillings!) I argued. Everyone started laughing and copying what I had said, they were so surprised that I could speak Lugandan and I knew the correct price. Even the Conductor smiled at me and took the correct change.

I went into town one day and a man came up to me and said "Are you here to buy Cassava again? You always buy so much, you must really like it." As he was talking I was staring at his face, trying to remember where I knew him from. Quite often people use my name even when we have never met before and then introduce themselves once our conversation ends.

Another time I spent two days organizing, decorating and working as an usher seating 1,000 guests for a party for John Marie’s Priesthoods Ordination Ceremony. At lunchtime I was exhausted and sat down. Someone took my picture and it ended up on facebook where people I did not know were discussing my facial expression and trying to figure out my emotions. Facebook is like a tabloid magazine! I commented, shocked that this boring picture of me would be posted and cause so much conversation. I suppose that happens when you are Britney Spears a Muzungu.

The Good Wife


My best friend Caroline is trying to help me become a good woman. This includes praying, making my bed in the morning and peeling vegetables. When making food you should place a banana leaf over your clothes to prevent them from getting dirty, wear a long skirt and place your legs to one side or kneel and take extra care to never squat in the food. "Womens work" may sound like drudgery but it is actually a lot of fun. With the men away, women gather to gossip and talk without interuption.

Eventually when I get married I will be expected to rise early and make breakfast while I tidy the house. Then when my husband eats I should make the bed and finish cleaning. I should send him off to work with clean clothes and a full stomach and afterward finish the housecleaning and then go to my own job. Men and women are equals she tells me but that if I love him, I will help him get food and his clothes clean, even though He can do it himself. (Don’t get any ideas David this is never going to happen).I know how to peel vegetables and matooke so I help out in the kitchen with Aunty but whenever I do Ugandan men will come up to me and say what a good wife I would make. My feminist instinct makes me want to tell them where to go but then I realize it is a compliment here and I should accept it graciously.

One male staff member told me He was going to pray for me. He hoped that I would marry a good man and have two children. I did not have the heart to tell him I do not plan on having children and even marriage is not on my priority list. I am only 21 and plan on treating life as an adventure and travelling as much as I can,  maybe even becoming a diplomat and living and studying abroad for a few years. I firmly believe in understanding yourself and becoming independant and strong before devoting yourself to one person for the rest of your life. While I am doing that I hope my future husband will learn to make his own breakfast. Maybe I should send a prayer of my own to his God just in case it works a little too well?

Overcoming Prejudice


A few days ago while working in the field clearing land a student came up to me. “What are doing Kirsten?” She asked. “I am clearing land so you can have a student run sustainable garden for the 200 students at Hope Academy. You will never have to eat Porsha again.” She looked doubtful. “You can’t clear this,” she said, “Muzungus are too soft, your body is not hard like mine.” I looked at the cleared field around me, obviously the work was being done, as a large area had been cleared but she did not seem to notice. “Muzungus and Bugandans are equal,” I said, “Anything I can do you can do and anything you can do I can do. I know how to do this work because I have cleared land during summer jobs and on my grandparent’s farm in Canada.” She remained unconvinced. It made me wonder whether someone convinced her that Muzungus were too good to work in the field or if they could not be taught how.

A few days later as I was carrying the Hope Academy Girls netball equipment to practice the same girl came up to me. "My friends told me that Muzungus could not dig," She said," So when I saw you I was so amazed."

Many things are done differently in Uganda than Canada, from the way vegetables are peeled and laundry washed to medicines that are used. It is important to learn how things are done in the area you are in so that you fit in. So I have learned to peel matooke, wash my clothes in three buckets of water and take aloe vera leaves when I am sick. It is a humbling experience to be taught at 21 years how to do get stains off your sweater but necessary because I do not want people to think I look dirty and therefore Canadians must be a dirty people.  Still some people remain unconvinced that I can do laundry, peel matooke or dig a garden and they start to laugh at the idea of a Muzungu being able to do something a Bugandan has grown up doing. When they start to laugh I just grab some soap or a knife to peel or a hoe to garden and do the skill and the laughing stops. Let it be said that Canadians are full of surprises.

[Commune] ity

I know I am part of the community because we take care of each other. When one person had a machete wound I dressed their wound and cared for them for 6 days until it healed and then they helped me with chores around the house and made my favourite food every morning for a week. Another person was hungry so I gave them food and now they share their peanut butter every morning. I helped someone carry jerry cans full of water for their shower and they remember every morning to give me cream for the many blisters on my hands (work gloves are very expensive so people tend to wrap banana leaves or small towels around work tools, one volunteer used to use her sock). Even the children that used to yell Muzungu now yell my name when I walk by their houses on the way to the trading post. I do not mind when people only speak Lugandan because I know that even if they say my name and then laugh they are not saying anything bad about me because they care for me.

Milk Tea


My favourite part of the morning is chai owa muttah (milk tea). 2 tsp brown sugar, green tea and freshly heated milk from the cow are mixed into a mug and thoroughly enjoyed. Some days we do not drink it because the cow is either feeling violent and is kicking, has run away or fed its calf already but I always make sure to tell Ben, the farmer at URF that I love him and I love milk every time we have it.