7 Months Later...

It's been 7 months since my return from Uganda. I went through what I imagine is the typical rollercoaster of emotions from extreme happiness and delight to sadness and an acute sense of missing people and the (slow) happenings in Masaka. These feelings have mellowed into a fuzzy sense of nostalgia and sometimes even a sense of pride that I had challenged myself as much as I did. As I went back to work 3 days after I returned home, I snapped back into my "real life" pretty quickly. I imagine this happens a lot to interns, which upon reflection, is both interesting and a bit disturbing. I always knew my time in Uganda was but a short 14 weeks, but it still surprises me how quickly I transitioned back. It was like my life was on a "time out" while I got to learn a whole host of things, but back in Masaka and Kyango Bigavu, there's no time-out. Life keeps moving as it does.

I particularly miss my host family and life being what it is in Masaka, communication isn't great. I figure I'll do an overdue post on how I remember them in a bit.

A friend started up a blog and it reminded me that I also have one (I nearly forgot how to sign in). I figure it was a sign that I could maybe keep at the blogging thing. Who knows? I may have something interesting to say one day....

I decided to get motivated and created a list of things I wanted to accomplish by the end of the summer. I started with my garden today. I am not a gardener. I do not have a green thumb. I usually have a difficult time telling the difference between weeds and non-weeds. But I decided to try. And try I did. The result? A near miss with a garden stake (yes, I nearly impaled myself on one) and no noticeable difference although some of my plants (particularly those unruly lavender plants) look a bit less scraggly.

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.

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!"

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!

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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.

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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.

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.

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'...

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.