Monday, December 19, 2011

My Life as an Intern: The Jjuukos

During my time in Masaka, Uganda, I stayed with the fabulous Jjuukos on their farm. This warm and open family wasted no time in having me feel at home with them. The family interactions were affectionate, casual, and very funny to observe. Here's a little snapshot of the family.

Mr. Jjuuko and Sophie (The Parents):
A sweet, hard-working pair. Mr. Jjuuko works on the farm and oversees some businesses in Masaka Town while Sophie works at home. Mr. Jjuuko is a delightful teddy bear who is obviously proud of his family, his farm, and his animals. He is a soft-spoken and reserved man, which made it that much more fun to watch when he got very excited over something. Sophie is a hilarious and opinionated mother who rules the home - the definite mother-hen.

Abdu Rezak (The Bookworm):
The eldest son. He's currently in med school and is super quiet and keeps to himself. He was home during mid-term break for about 1 week so I didn't really get a chance to hang out with him much. He likes reading and watching adventure movies. Most of our (limited) conversations centred around listing what movies we've watched. He seemed really nice and was the one who informed me that British Columbia was where the lumberjacks live!

A sample conversation:
Abdu Rezak: Do you watch Nicolas Cage movies?
Me: Yep. They're pretty fun.
A: Me too. Like, Face/Off, Snake Eyes, Sorceror's Apprentice, Con Air, The Rock...
Me: National Treasure 1, National Treasure 2, Ghost Rider, Gone in 60 Seconds...

Mariam (The Drill Sargeant):

                                         
The eldest daughter. She is in her first year of university, studying to become a social worker. She's a lovely, hard-working, opinionated and extremely bossy person. We got along really very well. She was living at home while attending school -- the first year she has done so since she was in boarding school during primary and secondary school. Campus was about a 15 minute walk away from home. She is not a hugger, loves TV, does not like being coddled or having her younger siblings be coddled (she has DEFINITE opinions about that!), and is quite strong-willed. Her current interest is in community development work and working with refugees. She doesn't want to get married (which led to many amusing conversations between her, myself, and her mother) as she thinks it's a prison and is very vocal about it.

Abdu Rashid (The Comedian):
                                           
The third child. He is Absolutely Hilarious. He was also soft-spoken until you got to know him. Always quick to tease and laugh, he appeared to be quite close to Mariam and they would alternate between teasing each other and driving each other crazy. He attended boarding school but the school term was done in November so I got to spend about a month with him, which was grand fun for me and we got along quite well. He thought I was a big weirdo and I informed him often that I thought the same of him. How could we NOT like each other??

Amira (The Regal):
                                           
The second daughter. She also attended boarding school for most of my time with the Jjuukos so I didn't spend as much time with her as I did with Mariam or Fazirat. She quickly struck me as a gentle, quiet, beautiful young woman with a very regal demeanor. I would often find her engaging in some useful and quiet activity and often helping her mom out. While much less out-spoken than her older sister, she could very definitely hold her own against her! Her school term let out before I left Masaka as well, so she was home for a few weeks. I know Mariam was glad for it because it meant the household work could be distributed more, particularly the cooking.

Feiruz (The Empath):
                                          
A sweet, gentle girl who seemed to be a budding philosopher who was always asking the "why" of things and wanting to know how one was feeling. I found her to be the most prone to discussing how she felt or wondering how people felt in certain situations and asking what one's reactions were when they were retelling a story. I didn't get to spend much time with her as she was also in boarding school and was only home for my last week. She proved to be an open and engaging girl whose attitude appeared to indicate absolute certainty that people would like her. And she is absolutely correct.

Fazirat (The Diva):
                                        
Oh, Fazirat (pronounced Faz-IR-ah). The quirky, energetic youngest child. She was coddled and spoiled (in the best possible way and as Mariam constantly liked to remind everyone) and she knew it! Fazirat and I would often wander the farm together and we went hunting for locusts together (see earlier entry). She preferred action movies and physical activity and would be bored if she had to read for too long or if we were doing quiet activities for too long.


I loved watching and participating in the interplay and dynamics within this family. Every single person had their own distinct personality but above all, loved to tease and laugh with each other, particularly the siblings...as siblings are wont to do. I loved every single minute of my time staying with them.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Reverse Culture Shock

After leaving Masaka, I went on a 5-day trip to visit two National Parks in Uganda: Kibale National Park and Bwindi Impenetrable Forest before heading back to Vancouver (details of that little trip to come). The flight was long and uneventful (yay!) and upon landing at YVR, I was greeted by my parents, eldest sister, and twin nephews who I discovered have learned to walk while I was away!!!

I will say, it's been a bit disorienting coming back the week before Christmas. When I left, it was still summer and with the weather in Uganda, it's just felt like I've experienced a 5 month-long summer. Also, the lack of big box stores that put up Christmas displays right after Halloween was also missing in Masaka, so it's a bit jarring to suddenly switch to winter weather with the holiday season of friends gathering in full swing.

Anyway, since arriving on Dec. 15, it's been pretty much a whirlwind of activity so while I've absolutely loved seeing people and catching up, I haven't had too much time to just relax and fully appreciate being back at home, yet. I'm anticipating some sort of 'reverse culture shock' to happen once the feelings of "I'm home! And having a REAL shower!" have subsided somewhat. I'm curious about how that will go since despite not having been gone for all that long, I feel I committed myself to the immersion experience in Masaka pretty well. I guess we'll see.

As my friend, Allison, told me:  "It's all about the journey! Endings and beginnings and everything in between!"

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Weraba, Masaka

What I'll miss: the sunshine and the consistently warm temperatures.

What I won't miss: the heavy rain that turns the roads into rivers of mud. Mud that gets EVERYWHERE.

What I'll miss: the friendly and helpful people who just like to chat for a bit before continuing on their way and who really DO want to make sure you get on the correct matatu so you can get home.

What I won't miss: the constant use of the smarmy "he-ey, baby/sweetie" and weekly appeals for me to have Ugandan boyfriends because "they know how to love".

What I'll miss: the availability of fresh, directly-off-the-farm pineapples, avocadoes, bananas, guavas and other produce.

What I won't miss: the matoke and posho and general lack of variety of food at mealtimes. It's not that matoke is bad. It's just bland. Oh! The joys of having been spoiled by growing up in Vancouver, with it's plethora of food choices!

What I'll miss: the convenience of hailing a boda boda and zipping around Town.

What I won't miss: playing live action frogger while trying to cross the street.

What I'll miss: the sight of gorgeous and brightly coloured bolts of fabric for sale that line the streets.

What I won't miss: the sight of large piles of garbage lining the streets -- and walking through huge, stinky clouds of smoke when the piles are being burned.

What I'll miss most: my fabulous, animated and hilarious host family.

I've had a truly great all-round experience, met some good people, and learned loads. Despite my time in Uganda coming to an end for now, I'm hoping to stay connected with Kitovu Mobile and their work from home (I've also been promised accountability reports on the project I took part in!). So, now that my time in Masaka is wrapping up, I'm getting ready for my next short adventure and a little vacation before heading back to Vancouver -- Gorilla tracking!

Thank you and see you, Masaka!

Webale ne weraba, Masaka!

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.1

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Mzungu in the Midst

A nursery school graduation, a baptism, and an Introduction ceremony. These were the Big Events I attended in the last week as my time in Masaka winds down.

Apparently, finishing nursery school is a big deal. It means that in the following year, a nursery school grad will be in Primary 1. There's a big to-do to mark the end of the school year (which follows the calendar year) and all the classes do some sort of performance. I was invited by a colleague to attend her daughter's nursery school grad. It was pretty awesome to see a bunch of 3-5 year olds dancing and grooving to music. I'm pretty sure they were all infinitely better dancers than I am. There was a fashion show which showcased casual wear, evening wear and office wear! The best part is the serious expressions on all of their little faces. All the little 'grads' even had caps and gowns and had their names called out. Very formal, as most things in Uganda seem to be.
The fashion show, featuring swimming wear 
and office wear.
With Victoria (the grad) and her older sister, Vanessa.


Congrats, Nursery School grads!
The baptism I went to was for the younger sibling of the kid who's graduation I had attended. It took place at my colleague's home in another village on the edge of Masaka Town. I don't think I've ever attended a mass at someone's home before and it never occurred to me that it could be an option. Other than the venue, it was pretty typical as far as baptisms go except the entire thing was in Luganda. So, as has become my habit here, I spent my time listening to the flurry of words and counting how many words I was able to pick out. It always amuses me that no matter what language mass is said in, you can pretty much follow along not only because the parts of the mass are always the same, but the meter at which the different parts are said is also usually pretty similar across the board - kind of trance-like sounding. The gathering was super fun and relaxed afterward and included a GIANT meal (as with all functions). Seriously -- I literally spilled some of my food because my plate was so heavy and my arm got tired. After the cake cutting, Gorreth (the hostess and mother) introduced the Mzungu from Canada to her guests who all wished me many happy celebrations like this one. While I am extremely appreciative of the warm welcome, the excitement, and the introductions I receive, I also kind of sometimes feel a bit like a Mzungu show pony at things. So, I did my part and stood, said a few words and was even able to throw a tiny bit of Luganda in.

Now, the Introduction ceremony. I had been wanting to go to one for some time because it is apparently THE Bugandan cultural event to go to. Let me backtrack a bit and explain that a large portion of Uganda is comprised of the kingdom of Buganda of which Masaka District (of which Masaka Town is the sort of 'capital') is part. Luganda is the language of Buganda. Confused? The Bugandan people have their own king, or kabaka, who in modern times is more of a cultural leader since he has limited poltical power. However, having said that, the kabaka apparently has more influence on the Bugandan people than the president and the president has had to work cooperatively with the kabaka to maintain peace. Someone told me that it's said that for Uganda to have peace, Buganda needs to be at peace. I guess it's because of the large area the kingdom covers. And I've also heard that Museveni isn't super fond of the kabaka but knows he has to ally with him or face further riots.

Anyway, back to the introduction ceremony. In Bugandan culture, the bride-to-be takes this opportunity to introduce her groom-to-be and his family to her own family, friends and relatives. It's a huge and colourful and gorgeous affair that has more importance than the actual wedding ceremony. Traditionally, marriages were arranged by aunties or other relatives and thus, the purpose of the introduction ceremony. Nowadays, it's more of a tradition, rather than because of a need to introduce prospective new family members that have resulted from an arranged marriage. The whole ceremony pretty much captures the essence of Bugandan culture (and maybe of Uganda): ceremonial, formal, an emphasis on greetings...and lasts about 4-5 hours. It consists of rounds of people from the bride's side taking turns in coming out and welcoming the groom and his family.



The bride is brought out at some point as well amidst much cheering, and clapping, and loud music. There's some dancing and comedic entertainment during all of this while those in attendance sit around, gawk (okay, maybe I was the only one gawking), and drink sodas and beer.


Apparently, men in drag are universally entertaining.
Hello, bride!
Bring on the dowry gifts!
 The highlight of the entire event is the presentation of dowry gifts by the groom. The bride sits on mats while the groom and his family parade in and place gifts and items around her. Now, here I was kind of hoping for something pretty over-the-top, like a hundred cattle and maybe a car. It didn't turn out to be QUITE that over-the-top but there was still plenty there. Among the items I saw were fruit, cakes, flour, rice, electronics (I think), and a whole whack of other things. This is the groom's chance to shine and show what he can provide! One of the MCs did a shout out to Kitovu Mobile (the introduction ceremony was for a daughter of a staff member) and as the Mzungu in attendance, I also got my own shout out. They wished me a 'day like this one', which was cool. I guess I'll have to get going with all the celebrations I am now meant to have. I wonder what my dowry price would be?

The bride amidst some of the dowry gifts.


Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.1

Because I'm a CP Social Worker...

Young mom and tot.
Children the world over are, in my opinion, super hilarious, adorable, and can be capable of so much more than people often give them credit for. Children in Uganda are no exception; however, the cultural context within which children live in Uganda is really very different than that of those who live in Canada. First, it's hard to guess at a child's age because many are very small for their age, likely due to malnutrition and other prenatal factors. You do get your cute, fat little babies wandering about with very serious expressions on their faces. You can just see them try to puzzle out what is so unusual about the Mzungu standing in front of them! The CP worker in me has found it a bit of a strange experience to see first-hand and hear about how children live and are sometimes treated in various parts of Uganda.

This ingenious kid fashioned a backpack for collecting bottles that also doubled as hooded rainwear out of a plastic bag!
On One Hand:
 
Children seem to be given a number of tasks and responsibilities at an early age, particularly those who live in the villages - older siblings (but not much older) are caretakers of younger siblings and sometimes are expected to stay home from school to do this. Young kids are cooking, cleaning, sewing, digging in the garden for hours, and fetching water. Are these expectations and responsibilities a product of high levels of poverty? Probably. Back home in Vancouver, similar tasks are given to kids to teach them certain skills and are carefully supervised (or are supposed to be!) by adults. In British Columbian CP terms, corporal punishment, exploitation of children by guardians/parents (the 'business' of begging, as I've been told, and early marriages), parentification of children, murder (child sacrifices), and other various issues and forms of abuse seem to be fairly prevalent. There is a limited child protection system that I've been able to figure out - issues can be brought to appropriate authorities. Where it goes from there, I have no idea at this time. There has been a recent campaign to promote child rights and I've seen a bunch of posters that exclaim "Stop Child Sacrifices!" and urging people to "Protect the Children!" but issues regarding children seem to be very much under the domain of 'private family issues'. There does seem to be some increasing public discussion about it, though. I saw one kind of hilarious (to me) poster that depicted various abuses done to children that should be stopped. It was sort of hilarious in that way that makes you want to groan and say, "are you SERIOUS?!" because of the statements on the poster, which included: "stop defilement (incest, from what I can gather)!", "stop touching children's private parts" and my favourite -- "stop over-beating children!". I mean, I think it's totally great that there have been recent movements in this area and workplace policies regarding child protection issues have been drafted, but it does sometimes take me a moment to readjust to where I am.

I've had some conversations with a few colleagues who've asked me what I do in Canada. When I told them, I got a few interesting responses including some bafflement. The first few times I was asked about my job, I had assumed there would be some understanding of what it was I did but I was wrong (I'll admit, this assumption was based on how ubiquitous those posters seemed!!). Among some other responses, I was asked whether I was a police officer (no), I was asked what issues children in Canada could possibly be affected by (a lot), and I was asked what kind of issues parents in Canada had to deal with (also, a lot). I'm not trying to compare contexts or situations; but problems and issues that children face in whatever country they live in are still problems and issues. And while the posters are a good start, where can it go next?

On the Other Hand:

Playing a version of "Ring around a rosy"
Children do seem to take care of each other, often without any prompting or asking. Kids also still do the child-type things that one would expect them to do: skip rope, play soccer, and make up very strange games. One recent game, (it turns out I WAS the game) consisted of 2 very tiny toddlers running after me as I was walking home and trying to touch my legs. This resulted in them tumbling over often and laughing and was apparently highly entertaining to the small group of children watching. Like most children in my experience, most here seem quick to laugh and to try to show off. Children roam around seemingly unattended, but more often than not, I've seen other adults step in and help young kids or other parents out (even those whom I'm SURE have just met the family. I wonder if the 'stranger danger' phase is shorter here than at home?). Parents bring their kids to work (I've only seen a couple of daycares and I don't know how common using daycares might be) pretty often where they run around and do random things and entertain and are entertained by their parents' coworkers. The whole "it takes a village to raise a child" adage does come to mind and it's pretty neat to actually see it happen sometimes.

Now, to reconcile the two hands....




My Life as an Intern: Project Nerd

First came the survey, then came the data analysis. Next came the development of a community-based project/initiative. What popped out at me from surveying community members was that food security and lack of income were huge, huge, pressing issues. So, I wanted to work something out to address this and I figured I would try to tackle food security. With food security comes better health and social outcomes as well as potential for income-generating activities (i.e. selling produce at market). In collaboration with a bunch of people from the community of Kyango Bigavu, Kitovu Mobile as well as Anita and Alex from FSD, we came up with a rough concept of having people in the community form small "Self-Help Groups" (SHGs). The SHG idea is a micro-finance type program based on the SILC concept and Kitovu Mobile has been forming them since 2004. The idea is that working cooperatively is way more effective than struggling alone. The groups would also be a support network for each other and Kitovu Mobile could organize various trainings around identified issues -- such as fertilization techniques, sustainable agricultural practices, and nutrition. And that's essentially the plan that I've mapped out. As part of the FSD program, part of my internship includes a seed grant that is meant to be used to purchase project items such as supplies and or labour (i.e. facilitators). So, I got to spend the last week running around negotiating prices, buying seeds and plant cuttings, and arranging for them to be delivered in the new year... after I've left.
One hardworking SHG of Kyango Bigavu
*** A tangent (of course) ...
Okay, let's take a knee for a second. Yes, I realize I know next to nothing about either finance or agriculture, so this whole project has been a challenge in a variety of fun and surprising ways. But apparently, if one is annoying enough (or, as my supervisor kindly said -- "resourceful". Heh.) and is fine with politely badgering people and peppering them with questions and asking for their help and picking people's brains and requesting as many various types of reading material that is available as well as opportunities to tag along to see things in action, then it IS possible to try to hammer out a project around ideas and concepts one knows little about. It just gets confusing at times. I guess the point is that to get anything done, one needs to be aware of which areas they are or aren't knowledgeable in. And to be okay with what it is you don't know (which, in my case, was a lot. A lot.) but also be willing to expose that so that you can do something to fill that gap. And people are often more than willing to teach others what they know or share their experiences. Oh, vulnerability. That often detestable, yet necessary aspect of life.
                                                         ... End of tangent (for now) ***

Group facilitation led by Ssemwanga Pantaleo.
While I'm still working on that blasted report (bo-oring) that is supposed to document my survey findings, I did get to start implementation of the project. Sort of. Oh, happy day! There was already one SHG formed by Cornelius within the last year and comprised solely of women, so we started with that group. Cornelius and I, along with a facilitator with much experience in group formation and dynamics named Ssemwanga Pantaleo, met with this group. Since they've already been together for nearly a year and have focused on building savings, Pantaleo was able to get right to ironing out group issues and dynamics and start creating proper group by-laws. They seemed quite excited with the whole process and I guess word spread because another group of women and a group of men expressed interest in forming their own groups and will be meeting with Cornelius next weekend! This was perfect since the target was about 3 groups of 15-20 people per group. The idea is that whatever benefits are gained by each group member will also translate into benefits gained by their families/households.
Impromptu singing and dancing to conclude a meeting.
Forming group by-laws.












So, I have no idea if the project will carry on after I've left. I certainly hope so. Kitovu Mobile seems interested in carrying it on and the project is in line with many of the projects they implement (the perk of not developing a project in isolation). I think it has the potential to be sustainable and to work but there are, as always, issues of funding and staffing that I foresee as potential barriers.

Inflation and Costs of Living in Uganda


For context: The current inflation rate is about 30%.

2011 has not been the best year for Uganda. It marks a year of soaring inflation, load shading (load shedding?), strikes, riots, increased police presence in an attempt to suppress further demonstrations and riots, increasing dissatisfaction with the government and further revelations of continued government corruption (although this last point is not unique to 2011, as I've been told countless times).

Those who lived through the Bush Wars and experienced pre-Museveni governments (times I like to dub from what I've heard about them, "the madness era") don't think it's so bad now. "Sure, there's a lot of corruption in the government. But it's better than what it was like before." That's a common statement I hear. It's all relative, I suppose.

Experiencing Uganda as an Outsider is weird because I can see the potential of the country if the current government perhaps cared as much as they did in the '80s. There's more money in the country than I initially thought -- but billions of shillings are being moved to the offshore accounts of some politicians. "Allegedly".

But true change can only happen "for the people by the people". It's a cliched saying for a reason.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Jinja (Nov. 19-20, 2011)


One very rainy weekend, Tan and Pan travelled north to Jinja...
... and noted the differences in architecture between Uganda's largest town and Masaka (eg. this Hindu temple in Jinja)...


... before going in search of the Source of the Nile River.

After much walking in the rain...
... the Alexes successfully reached the Eastern bank...
... where they stood and looked out across to the Western Bank...
... and also marveled at man's attempt to tame nature.

The Alexes were initially respectful of the weather and stayed on firm-ish ground...
... but the temptation to dip their feet in the Nile...

... was simply too great.

(The bird agreed.)
The Alexes then visited a small memorial garden that marks where some of Ghandi's ashes were scattered...
...before taking one last look at the River Nile and heading back to Masaka.


                                   The End.

Addendum: We had fantastic Indian food in Jinja and got to meet the chef herself - a hilarious, opinionated, and motherly woman who immigrated to Uganda from India with her husband in 2006. Or, as she tells it: "My husband made this mistake of moving to Uganda in 2006. And I followed him because he's my husband and you know, Indian culture..." Cue awkward laughing. The two run the restaurant we ate at. She taught us how to 'properly' eat the food with 'real' garlic naan (which, according to her, is different than the naan found in the UK and in North America). This was probably the food highlight of my time here, so far.

A brief history lesson: From what I've been told, many people from India had settled in various parts of Uganda (particularly Jinja) and set up businesses until the expulsion of Asians by Idi Amin. Under the current government, Asians have been invited back and many have returned and reclaimed family businesses.

Jinja also has a gen-u-ine main street that consists of decent little coffee shops (of course we stopped in one for a cuppa), pubs, restaurants and various little shops filled with crafts, knick knacks and art. Also of note: I had a fried egg and bacon sandwich for breakfast -- and it contained real breakfast bacon, my first taste of the wonderful, wonderful product in over 3 months. As we entered Jinja, we crossed over the top of the Owen Falls Dam, which provides (or doesn't provide, given the low water levels) electricity to Uganda. We shook our fists at the dam -- it was a break from griping about bad government and business deals that have resulted in the current power situation.
Tourist note: Jinja is also the place to go for apparently amazing white-water rafting and bungee jumping.

Tan and Pan rating: neat vibe, great food, the Nile River. Well worth the visit and the time spent folded into matatus for 5-6 hours one way.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

On Fashion, Bathing, and Vanity

What to Wear...
People in Uganda are generally very smart dressers. In fact, I was lounging around the housing compound one weekend in my usual pair of shorts and t-shirt that I wear solely around the home when I offered to run a quick errand for the family. The errand consisted of walking to a nearby shop (about a 10-15 min. round-trip walk) to pick something up. I figured I could just go as I was. As I was leaving, Mariam exclaimed, "You're going out in THAT?" Well. I wasn't 'going out'. I was running to the store (and yes, I did go in my shorts which DID feel weird). But, the point is that nobody leaves home without looking halfway decent.

Women at a ceremony, dressed in gomezi
When out and about at work or in Town, the majority of women generally wear knee-length (or longer) skirts and blouses or polo shirts, or suits. While trousers aren't as wide-spread in women's wardrobes, women do wear them. Some women, especially older women, often wear a gomezi, the traditional outfit which is custom-made out of a variety of awesome fabrics and consists of a wide belt, kind of vaguely like the Japanese obi, but tied in the front. On a side note: fabric here is awesome and gorgeous and plentiful, which gives me a 'fabric high'. And let us not forget the accessories: bangles, necklaces, earrings ('ear pins') -- the works. Men wear slacks and dress shirts (ties are optional although commonplace) for the most part. Of course, you get your t-shirt and jeans combos from both men and women but everyone is always so tidy. All articles of clothing are usually meticulously pressed and creased (I'm sure clothing would always be pressed, if there was a constant source of power....). And you don't really see anybody wearing shorts unless you're a primary-school-aged little boy or a teenaged male emulating some musician. The no-shorts situation makes Pan a bit sad, but he's been surviving. The way people take such care with their dress gives everything they do that extra formal feeling (most things are conducted quite formally, as well, even greetings).

Hair is a big deal for women as well. Most women are perfectly coiffed and have had their hair done up with braids, weaves, or other hair methods/accessory type things that I have no clue about. Or covered in fancy head scarves. The men generally keep their hair very short. My host brother, Abdu Rashid (17 years old), is currently trying to grow his hair out. It's about an inch thick and his family is hassling him to get it trimmed. It's pretty funny to watch him comb his hair with a pick daily and he's pretty good-natured about the teasing.

Bathtime Fun-time!
My bathroom (sideways)! The blue basin is my 
bath basin.

The typical bathing method didn't actually take that long to get used to. Sometimes I surprise myself! I will say that the family I live with has piped-in, running water and toilets, so it probably wasn't actually a huge adjustment to make.

So, bathing is via a bucket bath here. How it's done: fill a basin with water. Use the water to rinse oneself. Soap/Shampoo up. Rinse. There are cold-water showers, but my host family spoils me and I get a jerrycan of boiling hot water each night for my bath which I pour in the basin and mix with cold water. I'll admit that it's not the same as a shower or a soak in a tub, but it does the job for the most part (although it's a bit more difficult to get ALL the mud off on rainy days).

Mirror, Mirror, Missing from the Wall...

Despite people taking care of their appearance when they go out, there doesn't seem to be many mirrors about like one might be used to in North America. Certainly, offices and hotels have small mirrors in the washrooms, but it seems that many people make use of small table top mirrors to check your face. Now, I bring this up because for the past few months, I have not been making use of any sort of mirror before going out and usually ended up doing a cursory check at some point during the day if I came across a mirror or reflective surface. This was because: 1) I didn't think to bring one; 2) although I thought to get one, I never got around to and then it got so that enough time had passed that it became pointless to get one. I figured I'd been doing alright until one day when a colleague looked at me strangely and pointed out that I had Vaseline all over my face! I thought that was strange since I don't use Vaseline and haven't been using any sort of face cream so I went to the washroom at work and lo! there was toothpaste all over my face. Of course.

Lesson: Mirrors aren't vital to survival and people are more than willing to act as one for you.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Getting From Here to There and Everywhere

Things I've learned about transportation:


1. The number of seats in a vehicle is just meant to suggest a number of passengers it can hold;

2. A Toyota Corolla can fit about 8 adults, plus a couple of children;

3. A matatu (minibus taxi), which has 14 passenger seats, can fit about 24 adults, plus a couple of children;

4. A boda boda (motorcycle taxi) can fit about 3 adult passengers, plus a couple of children;

5. Riding sidesaddle on a boda boda while holding a purse and grocery bag over a potholey road isn't as difficult as one may initially imagine it to be (although I don't know how women holding swaddled babies do it);

6. Lane markers and centre lines are mere tarmac decor - on the roads that actually have them (i.e. Highways), the lines are ignored;

7. Vehicles have 3 speeds: fast, stop, and stuck in the mud;

8. A vehicle only requires a minimal amount of fuel; thus, passengers should be prepared to pass time should the bus run out of fuel partway to a destination;

9. A trip has the potential to take twice as long as it should to allow time to stop at numerous roadside produce markets to do a bit of random grocery shopping;

10. The road hierarchy is, from top of the chain to bottom: giant trucks, cars/SUVs, boda bodas, & bicycles. The lack of 'pedestrians' on the list is not an oversight; pedestrians don't register on the list. Period.

Friday, November 25, 2011

My Life as an Intern: Data Nerd

Cornelius and I managed to meet with and interview 29 households in the village. Our target had been 30 households, so this was close enough. Why 30? Mostly due to time constraints and also, since the village is made up of approximately 100 households (according to Cornelius), we figured we would have covered a decent percentage of the population. I mean, clearly, there was no scientific method or calculation to how we came up with this number, but everyone seemed satisfied with this total.


Once that was done, it was time for...data analysis!! Now, this may sound boring -- and it totally can be. But it's a necessary part of the process. Of course, since I had designed my own survey tool, this also meant I had to design my own database. Which ALSO meant I got to continue to be annoying to staff at Kitovu Mobile (namely, the ever-patient and helpful Martin) with questions on how to use certain programs, etc. There was also a lot of data I had to go through and input once my database was complete. My nerdy little heart alternated between singing with the joy of doing nerdy, analytical work and crying from the pure tediousness of the task.

Since this was essentially a social science research project, I didn't feel quite so encumbered with hard stats and probabilities and error bars and stupid junk like that (sorry to the research scientists in my life!). I was more interested in themes and opinions and the odd statistic that would highlight some demographic information.

The good thing about having both designed and implemented the questionnaire was that I had a fairly good idea of the preliminary results without having to slog through all the data before I could start developing a project. It also helped that one of the last questions I asked every family was: How do you want to be helped/what would be helpful to you? Here was their opportunity to tell me in practical terms what they envisioned for themselves, if they had the necessary support -- or to tell me to suck it.

*** A tangent (of course) ...
One man who was the head of his household came in partway through an interview and started asking us a bunch of questions about what we were doing there and why we were asking a whole bunch of questions. A part of me wanted to bristle at him (probably a residual effect of CP work). Well, if he had been there from the beginning, he would have heard our spiel about what we were doing! We're there to try to be helpful. We're the good guys (i.e. not corrupt government officials). He then told us that he's seen other people from other organizations, some of whom were Mzungus, come visiting and asking questions before and saying they would help. And then they disappeared (I'm sure there was more to the other side of this story such as funding cuts and the like, but the point is the impact it has on communities and the perceptions that are developed). He and his family (he had 5 little girls and a wife) have been managing and even though they were poor, they'd done it all on their own and without help. What makes us think we can help now or that our help is even wanted? Well, the bristle went out of me at that point. Okay, fair enough, sir (It also turns out he was a wee bit intoxicated, but he still had a valid point). Which brings me back to a question I'd been wrestling with since I first found out I was coming to Uganda -- does foreign aid and volunteerism actually help or hinder the development process? Maybe a bit of both? What about the role of local and international NGOs? What is the effect of us Mzungus who flit in and out of these communities? It goes back to the whole 'exploitation of the poor' discussion (and gives me flashbacks to my BSW days. *shudder*). This is something to explore in detail at a later date, methinks.
                                                                                       ... End of tangent (for now)***

So, thus began Phase II of my project - analyzing data while simultaneously trying to develop a community-based project. This also meant that I got exposed to many lessons of patience (toward others, toward myself, and about situations beyond anyone's control) -- like the time the power went off mid-way through inputting some data (okay, it was multiple times. Like, daily)... and then the generator was turned on... but then that went kaput since it was out of fuel... and then the person who signs the purchasing vouchers was temporarily unavailable so fuel couldn't be purchased right away... so, I started analyzing data with pen and paper... which emphasized yet again, how calculator and technology dependent I've become and made me annoyed with myself... which gave me a headache... so I spent the next hour chatting and 'passing time'...

Season of the Nseenene

'Tis the month of Nseenene (In-sen-nay-nay).

I've been hearing that since the beginning of November, but hadn't really seen any. While I had managed to try some, they didn't really seem to be EVERYWHERE, which is what I was expecting. A plastic mug of nseenene was selling for about 5,000UGX (about $2USD). This is actually fairly high, which indicates that they weren't as abundant. However, a couple of days ago, that changed. As I was leaving for work in the morning, there was a small group of kids out on the road laughing and seemingly just standing there and holding bags and water bottles. Then, I saw them. Swirling around them were copious amounts of grasshoppers flying in and out of the bushes and trees. It was a neat thing to see. And that very day, the price came down to 2,500UGX for a mug. I think the current price is 1,500UGX.

When I arrived home at the end of the day, I came across my youngest host sister, Fazirat (about 8 or 9 years old), in the yard with her own plastic water bottle. Of course, I dumped my stuff off, changed into my shorts and joined her in the farm to go grasshopper hunting! The pros who catch and sell the grasshoppers use big steel drums and a lot of bright lights to catch them and you can see these set-ups in Town. I haven't yet had a chance to watch this. However, there is apparently some controversy with this complete with allegations of bribery (of course), given the whole power situation.

Not being pros nor catching them for profit (but rather for our own personal feast), Fazirat and I had to rely on stealth, quickness, a water bottle to hold them once captured, and our bare hands. It was pretty fun, running around the banana plantation, skulking up to plants and trees and trying to grab grasshoppers; there was a lot of slipping on mud and laughing and yelling. I managed to catch a few out of mid-air, which even impressed Fazirat. I'll admit, I felt pretty ninja. Note: grasshoppers DO bite or pinch or whatever. But ultimately, the whole being-at-the-top-of-the-food-chain thing worked in our favour.

Fazirat on the hunt...

NINJA!!


At one point, my mom called me for our weekly phone chat:
Mom: Hi, Sandra. What are you doing?
Me (in hushed tones): Hunting grasshoppers.
Mom: <pause> ...What?

After spending about an hour sneaking up on the unsuspecting Nseenene, we decided to call it a night (plus, it was starting to get dark). As we tromped up to the housing compound with muddy feet and proudly holding the bottle which was 3/4 full, Mariam (Fazirat's eldest sister, 20 years old) was standing there with arms crossed and shaking her head at us and our muddy states. Fazirat made the quintessential youngest-sister comment (and probably something I would have said to my own older sisters): "Nseenene are your favourite, so why are you shaking your head at us? I'm going to cook them for just me and Alex since WE caught them and you can watch us!" I wasn't around when the wings and legs were taken off, but my host mother, Sophie, fried them up and served them during evening tea the next day. They were DELICIOUS (and yes, we all partook in them). Mr. Jjuuko (my host father) also came home with a big batch so there was plenty to go around.
I see you, Nseenenes!
To the victors go the spoils


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

My Life as an Intern: Survey Nerd

After a week of orientation in September where I got to hang out with the various departments at Kitovu Mobile (Counselling, Palliative Care, Home-Based Care, Orphans and Family Support), I was placed within the Orphans and Family Support department to begin working on a community empowerment project.

My task: to do a baseline assessment of a rural village (Kyango Bigavu) near Kyotera within which Kitovu Mobile would like to start implementing programs. It was a bit daunting at first since I had to design the survey tool and I pretty much needed and wanted to ask about everything with regards to the socio-economic and political conditions as the villagers saw it. So, after fighting with the wording of and types of questions about a variety of topics (e.g. household demographics, economic factors, health conditions, HIV/AIDS knowledge, social supports, gender-based violence), paring it down as much as possible (because nobody wants to administer or participate in a 12 page questionnaire!), and having it triple checked by 3 different people for cultural appropriateness (which can be trickier than one may think), I was ready to try it out with the community worker. Ssempiira Cornelius, the community worker, had been tapped to work with the Mzungu volunteer. Cornelius is fantastic, by the way. Smart, hard-working, dedicated, skilled, and personable. I couldn't have asked for a better partner!

A typical day going out into the village looked something like this:
I would grab a ride in a truck with a team from Kitovu Mobile who was passing through Kyotera. In Kyotera, they would drop me off at a bus stage and we would very loosely plan a pick-up time at the end of the day. Cornelius would meet me at the bus stage and we would head into and through the village on a motorbike. If it was raining, we would stop and wait out the rain since the 'roads' (I use the term very loosely, here) would have turned into rivers of mud -- not exactly good motorbiking conditions as we learned on one occasion. :)
Cornelius and the motorbike
We then visited various families at their homes where I would interview people, with Cornelius translating everything. I managed to figure out how to ask people for their names and ages in Luganda; I also figured out how to ask the random question, like "how many chairs do you have?" and "do you boil your water?". But I relied primarily on Cornelius. I found that I was able to understand more of the language than I was able to speak, which helped move things along. Each interview took about 40 minutes to an hour to complete. This was partly because of the number of questions we asked and partly because there is a sort of greeting ritual we had to do with each household. I thought I was starting to get pretty good at doing this, although it always seemed to make people laugh (I'd probably laugh at me, too, if I were them!).

Homemade snuff (it's spicy!)
The majority of the people we met with were lovely. They were fairly open to discussing some aspects of some issues (thanks to Cornelius). Some were embarrassed to discuss certain things with me and I get that, but all in all the people I managed to meet with were great at allowing me to gain some insight into their lives. I must say that despite being a village that has been neglected by the various levels of government (National, District, Sub-county, etc.) and despite facing hugely daunting issues that hinder their development (food security and access to water, as examples), you could see the resilience within the community and for some of them, the pride they had in the things they made or grew. I loved doing the household interviews. As dull as it sounds to survey a village, because of the loose-ish format we adopted, it was an overall enjoyable experience.


The lovely Mulindwa Rose, presenting me with a mat 
to welcome me to the community
We always started out by letting people know who we were, which organization we were with, what we wanted to do, the purpose of surveying people from this village, and telling people we were there to learn from them.We never made promises and we tried to be clear that at this stage, we were just gathering information which we would then take back to people who might be able to figure out a way to address some of the issues. This was key and even with this reminder, expectations still got a bit muddled.

*** A tangent (of course) ...
I'm learning that in community development (and likely any work that is done in a developing country), you need to manage expectations: your own and everyone else's. People sometimes automatically assume that because you are showing an interest, all their problems will be solved. This feeling is amplified when the worker is a Mzungu. My own expectations coming into this project were to learn as much as I could about community development and empowerment, doing a community assessment, to interact with as many people as I could, and to hopefully be helpful in some way (even a small way). Thankfully, that attitude worked out fairly well (Robo-Tan in Uganda!). I'm not there to wipe away their problems or to 'save the world'. I can't and I shouldn't expect to be able to in just over 3 months. To want to do so may sound admirable and desirable, but in reality (and in my opinion), that's just arrogant. Secondly, going in with that bent has the potential to lead to a dependent relationship that doesn't foster capacity-building and is not sustainable in the long run because at the end of the day, I'm not living there with them and in these conditions. So, any development project that happens really does need to be community-driven for it to be sustainable and viable in the long run.
                                                                                          ... End of tangent (for now) ***

At the end of the day, Cornelius would take me back to the bus stage where I would wait for the team I came up with to pick me up and bring me back to Masaka. Sometimes I would wait up to an hour or more. Have I mentioned that time moves differently in Uganda? During my waits, I started sitting with a woman who makes and sells local street food. She would speak to me in rapid Luganda. And wait. I would shrug my shoulders. She would slow down and use more hand gestures. I would sort of get the gist of what she was saying and respond in broken Luganda and English with a lot of my own hand gestures. She would laugh. Eventually, the truck would come and with a final laugh at each other and a "Webale!" (Thank you) for letting me sit at her food station, I crammed myself into the truck and headed back to Masaka.