The other night I was reading my bible and came across Matthew, chapter 6, verse 25: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important that food, and the body more important than clothes?” Is not life more important than food and clothing? It certainly is. I am seeing that fully here in the middle of the bush in Africa. In fact, some of the children do not even wear clothes! And rice and beans are almost the only food that is eaten. I wanted to come to Africa, partly for selfish reasons, so that I may know and actually live how others in the world live. Eat what they eat. Wear what they wear. Sleep how they sleep.
I was talking with one girl yesterday and she asked me in America if we have running water, toilets, the kitchen, and beds all in the same house. I said yes. She said it must be a very big house. She also knew that we use machines to wash our clothes. Here, the girls spend hours washing clothes, drying them in the sun, and then ironing them. I attempted this the other day, though I did not do nearly as well as the girls do. It is so easy for me to throw a load of laundry in the washing machine at home while I watch t.v. or do something else. At home I do not think twice about getting up in the middle of the night and walking down the hallway barefoot to use the bathroom. Here, I dread getting out of bed, finding my flashlight and toilet paper, putting on my sandals, walking to the latrine, and squatting over a hole in the ground. At home, I do not think twice about turning on the faucet for a quick glass of cold water. Here, these girls have to walk the mile or so to get water, pump the water, and carry it back to the center, all with a baby strapped on their backs.
How many times have I told the kids at camp to be thankful for a bed to sleep in, a roof over their heads, and food on the table? Yet how many times have I thoughtlessly taken for granted the luxuries I have in a first world country? Before I came here, I was worried that people here would know how I live and feel bad that they do not have what I do. The truth is, they can’t imagine what my life is like. They can’t imagine a kitchen in the same building that I sleep in. I would not know how to explain a microwave or a curling iron to them. Life is simple here. And it shows that life is much more than what I eat and what I wear.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Life in Lukodi
Life has a way of slowing down in Uganda. Almost to the point of standing still. The days have been long and hot, and I often go into my hut to cool down and read. Although I feel that I have not done much here yet, there is so much to tell.
Sunday morning I went to the church service at the center. It was two hours long and included lots of singing. There was also a lot of crying from the babies. There was an interpreter for some of the message, but not all of it. Through most of the service, I was just thinking, “I can’t believe so many people are squished into this one tiny classroom!” In the afternoon, I went with some of the girls to the farm and picked sweet potatoes in the field. Their sweet potatoes are not like American sweet potatoes. They are white and not so sweet. I do not really like them. Other foods that I have had here include: rice, beans, posho (a mashed, dry sort of grits- I don't like this either), eggplant, and other cooked vegetables. In the morning I can have tea and a bun, but I do not usually have this. After working in the fields and getting really muddy, I took a “shower”. This consisted of filling a basin with water and going to a small enclosed area where I use a cloth to wash my body and pour a cup over my head to wash my hair. This is difficult with long hair and I can see why most Acholi women have short, cropped hair.
I have done some activities with the children and with the girls. I taught the kids Ring Around the Rosy. They thought it was hysterical when we all fell down. I played Uno with the girls one night before they danced. They dance pretty much every night, except when it rains, which it is starting to do more often because it is now the rainy season. Any time I interact with the girls, I feel that it is a big success because it is so hard for me to communicate with them. Sometimes I have to force myself to go out and sit with them on the verandas because I find it very tiring to try and talk to them. I do not feel the same way with the children. I am very comfortable sitting with the children, letting them crawl over me or play with my hair and not having to talk at all. Even though I can not speak with the children, I seem to be able to communicate with them easily.
The other day I was talking with Mr. Akena, the Center Director, and he was telling me about the history of the Acholi people and when they were under Britain’s control. He also told me about his education and teaching experience. He said one thing he likes about America is that we get out and experience the world, unlike the Acholi, who live in a cocoon. He said we train our teachers better too. Most of the teachers in northern Uganda are not very good. They need better, or in some cases, even any training. I realized that I really am very lucky that I have had the chance to experience so much of the world that I have and that I have had the educational training that I have.
Once I asked Kristen, the other American staff member, if she fears the LRA. She said she fears the IDP camp community members more of stealing and rape. There is a gate around the whole center that is guarded by a couple of soldiers, so I am not too worried, and I am not supposed to be outside of the gate after 6:30 p.m. The only times I go outside the gate are to get water with the girls. We go to the borehole (a well with a pump) or the spring. The girls all carry the full20 liter jerricans back on their heads. I tried this one day but had to hold on to it with my hands. I could not do this for very long. Acholi women are so strong! I carried a 5 liter jug of water in each of my hands back to the center yesterday and can still feel it in my shoulders and back today. Who needs weight lifting here when I can just fetch water every day!
Something that really struck me the other day was how little the children in Uganda actually have. I knew that they would not have much, but I was still shocked that there was nothing in the Early Childhood Development (ECD) classroom. There is not a single toy inthe room, not one object for the children to hold or play with. In America, a child has dozens and dozens of toys at their home; a classroom has many, many things for children to play with. Here, kids run around with sticks and pieces of garbage. They put dirt and leaves in their mouths. I am still getting used to how dirty the kids get.
The other night the other mzungu (white people) staff and I were eating in one of our huts and they told me some of the girls’ stories. I know that I am working with formally abducted girls, but when I heard some of their personal stories, it was very surreal. I was afraid of having nightmares that night from some of the things they told me. The girls at the center are from the ages of 14-22. It is so hard for me to think that these girls, who are the same ages as my sisters, know more about guns and tanks than Army soldiers.
Sunday morning I went to the church service at the center. It was two hours long and included lots of singing. There was also a lot of crying from the babies. There was an interpreter for some of the message, but not all of it. Through most of the service, I was just thinking, “I can’t believe so many people are squished into this one tiny classroom!” In the afternoon, I went with some of the girls to the farm and picked sweet potatoes in the field. Their sweet potatoes are not like American sweet potatoes. They are white and not so sweet. I do not really like them. Other foods that I have had here include: rice, beans, posho (a mashed, dry sort of grits- I don't like this either), eggplant, and other cooked vegetables. In the morning I can have tea and a bun, but I do not usually have this. After working in the fields and getting really muddy, I took a “shower”. This consisted of filling a basin with water and going to a small enclosed area where I use a cloth to wash my body and pour a cup over my head to wash my hair. This is difficult with long hair and I can see why most Acholi women have short, cropped hair.
I have done some activities with the children and with the girls. I taught the kids Ring Around the Rosy. They thought it was hysterical when we all fell down. I played Uno with the girls one night before they danced. They dance pretty much every night, except when it rains, which it is starting to do more often because it is now the rainy season. Any time I interact with the girls, I feel that it is a big success because it is so hard for me to communicate with them. Sometimes I have to force myself to go out and sit with them on the verandas because I find it very tiring to try and talk to them. I do not feel the same way with the children. I am very comfortable sitting with the children, letting them crawl over me or play with my hair and not having to talk at all. Even though I can not speak with the children, I seem to be able to communicate with them easily.
The other day I was talking with Mr. Akena, the Center Director, and he was telling me about the history of the Acholi people and when they were under Britain’s control. He also told me about his education and teaching experience. He said one thing he likes about America is that we get out and experience the world, unlike the Acholi, who live in a cocoon. He said we train our teachers better too. Most of the teachers in northern Uganda are not very good. They need better, or in some cases, even any training. I realized that I really am very lucky that I have had the chance to experience so much of the world that I have and that I have had the educational training that I have.
Once I asked Kristen, the other American staff member, if she fears the LRA. She said she fears the IDP camp community members more of stealing and rape. There is a gate around the whole center that is guarded by a couple of soldiers, so I am not too worried, and I am not supposed to be outside of the gate after 6:30 p.m. The only times I go outside the gate are to get water with the girls. We go to the borehole (a well with a pump) or the spring. The girls all carry the full20 liter jerricans back on their heads. I tried this one day but had to hold on to it with my hands. I could not do this for very long. Acholi women are so strong! I carried a 5 liter jug of water in each of my hands back to the center yesterday and can still feel it in my shoulders and back today. Who needs weight lifting here when I can just fetch water every day!
Something that really struck me the other day was how little the children in Uganda actually have. I knew that they would not have much, but I was still shocked that there was nothing in the Early Childhood Development (ECD) classroom. There is not a single toy inthe room, not one object for the children to hold or play with. In America, a child has dozens and dozens of toys at their home; a classroom has many, many things for children to play with. Here, kids run around with sticks and pieces of garbage. They put dirt and leaves in their mouths. I am still getting used to how dirty the kids get.
The other night the other mzungu (white people) staff and I were eating in one of our huts and they told me some of the girls’ stories. I know that I am working with formally abducted girls, but when I heard some of their personal stories, it was very surreal. I was afraid of having nightmares that night from some of the things they told me. The girls at the center are from the ages of 14-22. It is so hard for me to think that these girls, who are the same ages as my sisters, know more about guns and tanks than Army soldiers.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Finally Here!
After months of planning, two days of flying, and one day of driving from Kampala to Gulu (consisting of stopping only twice from our van overheating), I finally made it to my destination! I spent Tuesday in New Hampshire at the ChildVoice International headquarters where I got a quick orientation about the organization and what life would be like in Uganda. It was a lot of information at once and I got a bit overwhelmed. That night I flew to Amsterdam and then to Entebbe, Uganda. I then stayed Wednesday night in a hotel in Kampala, which was the first that I had slept since Monday night in New Hampshire. During our drive to Gulu, which was about a five hour drive north, we crossed the Nile River, saw baboons on the side of the road, and saw lots of villages and IDP (Internally Displaced People) camps. It was a long drive over many potholes, but we arrived to Gulu safely. From there, the Lukodi Center is about a 40 minute drive, but ChildVoice staff go back and forth from the Center to Gulu easily every day.
Immediately when I stepped out of the van at the center one little girl grabbed my hand and led me around the center. I could not understand her or speak with her, but she made me feel that she was glad I was here. My first night the 30 girls had a welcome ceremony for me where they sang songs to me and some of the staff gave a couple of speeches. I then had to stand up and give a short speech as well. Then everyone started dancing to music and the girls taught me how to dance.
Yesterday was my first full day at the center. It was a long, slow day. It is exhausting when you cannot communicate with anyone! I would say that is the most frustrating thing about being here. Yet, I am learning a few phrases in Luo, the language the Acholi speak. The children also know a couple of words in English, as they are learning in the school there. All the children are about 5 years or younger. There are 34 children or so, and most are babies. I was first taken aback when I saw all the younger children dirty, without pants, and with flies all around them. It is also hard to not do anything when they cry. The babies are always crying, but there is nothing that you can do about it. In America, I am used to mothers and teachers picking up crying children right away and trying to comfort them. That is just not what they do here.
I am learning a lot about the Acholi people's histoy by talking to people and through a book I am reading. I have learned that there is a lot more conflict, war, and killings in the past than I was aware. The problem goes back and is a lot deeper than just this last 20 year old war against the LRA. It is very complicated and I still do not know much, but I am starting to understand that there have been many troubling times for the Acholi people. I have been wondering, then, why I am here now. With all of the problems they have had, what good am I going to do here after this last war? Am I going to make any difference after this last tradegy? I just need to trust God that He knows best and called me here for a reason.
Immediately when I stepped out of the van at the center one little girl grabbed my hand and led me around the center. I could not understand her or speak with her, but she made me feel that she was glad I was here. My first night the 30 girls had a welcome ceremony for me where they sang songs to me and some of the staff gave a couple of speeches. I then had to stand up and give a short speech as well. Then everyone started dancing to music and the girls taught me how to dance.
Yesterday was my first full day at the center. It was a long, slow day. It is exhausting when you cannot communicate with anyone! I would say that is the most frustrating thing about being here. Yet, I am learning a few phrases in Luo, the language the Acholi speak. The children also know a couple of words in English, as they are learning in the school there. All the children are about 5 years or younger. There are 34 children or so, and most are babies. I was first taken aback when I saw all the younger children dirty, without pants, and with flies all around them. It is also hard to not do anything when they cry. The babies are always crying, but there is nothing that you can do about it. In America, I am used to mothers and teachers picking up crying children right away and trying to comfort them. That is just not what they do here.
I am learning a lot about the Acholi people's histoy by talking to people and through a book I am reading. I have learned that there is a lot more conflict, war, and killings in the past than I was aware. The problem goes back and is a lot deeper than just this last 20 year old war against the LRA. It is very complicated and I still do not know much, but I am starting to understand that there have been many troubling times for the Acholi people. I have been wondering, then, why I am here now. With all of the problems they have had, what good am I going to do here after this last war? Am I going to make any difference after this last tradegy? I just need to trust God that He knows best and called me here for a reason.
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