Week 10 Slideshow from PublicHealth Uganda on Vimeo.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Week 9- Strength
As our program draws to a close, I feel that I can honestly say that I have learned a lot about the character of the Ugandan people. Much of it comes from our daily interactions, both in the classroom and around town. For me, the greatest insight came from working on my independent research project. Unlike in the United States, here in Uganda HIV/AIDS is not something you can ignore. In fact, it is something I chose to embrace. As I began my research on the HIV/AIDS experience in Uganda, I was introduced to and interacted with HIV positive individuals. As we discussed their experiences and the problems they have encountered because of their illness, I was impressed by one resounding quality--strength. HIV/AIDS, as we all know, is a devastating disease that affects all types of people, especially here in Uganda. Stigma runs rampant and treatment is hard to find and often expensive. Despite all of the challenges that HIV presents, the individuals I talked to, one woman in particular, embodied a sense of perseverance and courage. These Ugandans have not crawled under a rock and prepared to die, even though without a cure this disease is a death sentence. Instead, they are out raising their children, holding jobs, and making a good life for themselves.
Now, I'm sure for most of you reading this, it is nearly impossible to imagine a life with HIV. On top of that, your perceptions are based on a first-world, super developed standard of living. Uganda is far from that, which makes living with HIV an even harder endeavor. Living conditions are tough, jobs are hard to find, and HIV treatment can be incredibly expensive, if available. Against all odds, the people I have talked to are not letting this pandemic get the best of them. They fight the stereotypes, hold jobs, make money to send their children to school, and form relationships. An HIV diagnosis is not the end of the line; instead Ugandans fight the disease with strength and grace. While only 6-7% of the population in Uganda is HIV positive, I believe this characterization holds true for the majority of Ugandans.
The leaders of our program, Centurion, Dan, and Joel, took us on an incredibly journey, shared amazing experiences with us, and didn't give up on our group despite our missteps and naivete. Our professors, especially in the School of Public Health, demonstrated the strength it takes to work and research in Uganda and the importance of working to benefit your own country. An incredible body of HIV/AIDS research has been conducted here in Uganda, despite the lack of funding and resources. This perseverance to learn more will ultimately benefit Ugandans and the rest of the world. Finally, the people we have encountered on the street have been wonderful. Despite our foreign status, Ugandans are willing to help us with anything from directions to how to say "half a chicken." No question is too small and almost everyone seems to want to help us learn.
To me, the backbone of Uganda is strength in the face of adversity. The country may have a long way to go in terms of development, but the Ugandan people don't let that bother them. They have proven to me over these 9 weeks that you just have to believe, work hard, and keep on going. Hopefully I can take even a small amount of this knowledge back with me and start to see life in the US in a slightly different light.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Week 9 - best week EVER
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This week I fell in love with Uganda and all of its inhabitants. Well, not all. Some people this week decided it would be a good idea to plan our future together in Uganda after I graduate. Picking out where we would live and how many children to have without asking if that was something I was interested in. I guess my smile indicated that I was all for it in which case I need to stop! People here are very loving and it's going to be so hard to leave. This week we had three birthdays including my own. On Thursday night, we celebrated all of the birthdays with a big dinner at Krua Thai in Kololo. We all had the opportunity to invite a guest which made it extra special. The dinner was good, the company was good, and the cake was grrrrrrrrrreat! For my birthday, a few of us went out to a "silent disco" party with some Ugandan friends. I had never been to a silent disco but the concept seemed pretty fun plus I would be with people I like. It was a bit awkward at first because everyone has their own headphones BUT it got really interesting when people starting singing along and dancing with each other. The next evening we thought it would be fun to have a movie night/pajama party in my apartment. We bought lots of food and had mattresses spread out on the living room floor. It was the first time we all hung out like that to watch a movie. It was a lot of fun and lucky for us, some of our Ugandan friends came by and joined in the fun!! This week was soooooooooo much fun. Not even a Luganda final could ruin my spirits. Everyone needs to experience Uganda, I promise you won't regret it!!
This week I fell in love with Uganda and all of its inhabitants. Well, not all. Some people this week decided it would be a good idea to plan our future together in Uganda after I graduate. Picking out where we would live and how many children to have without asking if that was something I was interested in. I guess my smile indicated that I was all for it in which case I need to stop! People here are very loving and it's going to be so hard to leave. This week we had three birthdays including my own. On Thursday night, we celebrated all of the birthdays with a big dinner at Krua Thai in Kololo. We all had the opportunity to invite a guest which made it extra special. The dinner was good, the company was good, and the cake was grrrrrrrrrreat! For my birthday, a few of us went out to a "silent disco" party with some Ugandan friends. I had never been to a silent disco but the concept seemed pretty fun plus I would be with people I like. It was a bit awkward at first because everyone has their own headphones BUT it got really interesting when people starting singing along and dancing with each other. The next evening we thought it would be fun to have a movie night/pajama party in my apartment. We bought lots of food and had mattresses spread out on the living room floor. It was the first time we all hung out like that to watch a movie. It was a lot of fun and lucky for us, some of our Ugandan friends came by and joined in the fun!! This week was soooooooooo much fun. Not even a Luganda final could ruin my spirits. Everyone needs to experience Uganda, I promise you won't regret it!!
Week 9 - Reminiscing
All of the Uganda study abroad alumni told us that time would fly by here, and they were right. These past nine weeks have been so much fun, and we've all learned so much. As our program comes to a close, it only seems appropriate that I recount some of my favorite moments from our study abroad experience.
I think it was the second week that we were here in Uganda and our group was still getting to know each other when we decided to order four large pizzas and a red velvet cake from a restaurant called I Love New York Kitchen. It took a very long time to track down the phone number on-line, and even then we didn't have a menu. In the end, the wait was worth it, though. I remember all of us sitting in the flat eating, laughing, talking, really just getting to know each other. This past weekend we ordered pizza from I Love New York Kitchen again, and it made me smile to see all of us back together, eating, laughing, talking - just like that first time.
I remember when we visited Mulago Bright Standard Primary School, and after the children had performed for us, Centurio chose three people to give speeches. The last student to speak simply said "Mwebale" (thank you in Luganda), and the entire place burst into applause.
And the sad tale of the rooster at Busabi. This rooster at the hotel where we were staying woke all of us up very early in the morning and then wouldn't let us get back to sleep with its incessant crowing. The next day Centurio joked with the hotel staff that we would like them to cook that rooster for dinner. But it wasn't a joke when the rooster wasn't there when we got back and we had chicken for dinner. Sure enough we had eaten the rooster. The hotel staff claimed that that was always the rooster's fate, but we still felt guilty. We did sleep better that night, though.
When I was trying to accompany the Butabika staff on an outreach event, Centurio accompanied me on the mutatu rides across Kampala. When we finally got to Ntinda, where I was to be picked up, I remember being so relieved that I gave Centurio a hug. It was in that moment that I truly realized how dedicated and kind Centurio is that he would take hours out of his day to take public transportation with me.
Ah, the frustration that came with trying to learn a Buganda dance. My hips do not move that way, but I tried.
In the first week, Dan told us at breakfast about the tiny antelope called oribe that we would see at Murchison Falls. This was my first experience with Dan's great story-telling skills.
In Zanzibar, I learned that I am not very good at bargaining. Me: "I will give you ten thousand shillings for these sandals." Salesperson: "Oh no. Fourteen." Me: "Okay." I still have not really improved upon this.
Seeing the Rakai Community Cohort Study was just really amazing. It's difficult to describe how fantastic it was to see such a large research project operating in conjunction with health service provision in rural Uganda.
This last week one of the students in our group organized a cookout with a refugee population that he had been working with. It was a powerful gathering, and I was so impressed that one of the students in our group had organized it and even more impressed that this refugee population remained so strong in the face of adversity.
There are so many more stories and experiences, but these were a few that first popped into my mind. I've truly had a wonderful time here in Uganda. I have made so many friends and experienced so much. I will never forget the time that I have spent here.
Location: Kampala, Busabi, Zanzibar, Rakai, all over Uganda
I think it was the second week that we were here in Uganda and our group was still getting to know each other when we decided to order four large pizzas and a red velvet cake from a restaurant called I Love New York Kitchen. It took a very long time to track down the phone number on-line, and even then we didn't have a menu. In the end, the wait was worth it, though. I remember all of us sitting in the flat eating, laughing, talking, really just getting to know each other. This past weekend we ordered pizza from I Love New York Kitchen again, and it made me smile to see all of us back together, eating, laughing, talking - just like that first time.
I remember when we visited Mulago Bright Standard Primary School, and after the children had performed for us, Centurio chose three people to give speeches. The last student to speak simply said "Mwebale" (thank you in Luganda), and the entire place burst into applause.
And the sad tale of the rooster at Busabi. This rooster at the hotel where we were staying woke all of us up very early in the morning and then wouldn't let us get back to sleep with its incessant crowing. The next day Centurio joked with the hotel staff that we would like them to cook that rooster for dinner. But it wasn't a joke when the rooster wasn't there when we got back and we had chicken for dinner. Sure enough we had eaten the rooster. The hotel staff claimed that that was always the rooster's fate, but we still felt guilty. We did sleep better that night, though.
When I was trying to accompany the Butabika staff on an outreach event, Centurio accompanied me on the mutatu rides across Kampala. When we finally got to Ntinda, where I was to be picked up, I remember being so relieved that I gave Centurio a hug. It was in that moment that I truly realized how dedicated and kind Centurio is that he would take hours out of his day to take public transportation with me.
Ah, the frustration that came with trying to learn a Buganda dance. My hips do not move that way, but I tried.
In the first week, Dan told us at breakfast about the tiny antelope called oribe that we would see at Murchison Falls. This was my first experience with Dan's great story-telling skills.
In Zanzibar, I learned that I am not very good at bargaining. Me: "I will give you ten thousand shillings for these sandals." Salesperson: "Oh no. Fourteen." Me: "Okay." I still have not really improved upon this.
Seeing the Rakai Community Cohort Study was just really amazing. It's difficult to describe how fantastic it was to see such a large research project operating in conjunction with health service provision in rural Uganda.
This last week one of the students in our group organized a cookout with a refugee population that he had been working with. It was a powerful gathering, and I was so impressed that one of the students in our group had organized it and even more impressed that this refugee population remained so strong in the face of adversity.
There are so many more stories and experiences, but these were a few that first popped into my mind. I've truly had a wonderful time here in Uganda. I have made so many friends and experienced so much. I will never forget the time that I have spent here.
Location: Kampala, Busabi, Zanzibar, Rakai, all over Uganda
Week 9 - Birthdays, Airlines, and the Beginning of Another Journey
Location: Kampala
This week we had not one, not two, but three birthdays...well four actually if you count Centurio --Man of the Century (who didn't tell us about his until it had already passed). The celebrations lasted days, beginning on Thursday and finally winding down on Saturday night. We started by gathered with all of our friends at a Thai restaurant to feast, reminisce and enjoy each others company. Our totally was 21 and included the nine of us, Professor Stewart, Dan and Centurio with their respective wives, Olivia, Paul and Martin from PCA, our three new break-dancing friends, and Brian. It was a warm and emotional gathering full of stories and memories. By brother Centurio's request, we were all encouraged to deliver a speech. Everyone had something to say, and the speeches were amazing and so full of love that the thought of the program's ending in a little over one week was overwhelming. The program had creeped to a start, but had surged to a finish before we could even realize it. Encouraged by the warmth of this country and its people I decided to prolong my adventure by staying on after the program.
Many had similar sentiments and had already began planning their summer activities in Uganda. However, it wasn't until we officially decided to change our return flight that we found out that our tickets were only good for a three month period including both outbound and return travel. Since I had left on March 20, to do some traveling around Europe, this arrangement meant that the latest I could return would be June 20, giving me only two additional weeks. To make matters worse, the cost to change the ticket skyrocketed from the expected $300 to over $1000, to account for the change in price of the new ticket, making purchasing a whole new return ticket a much better option. We were crushed. The week had been an emotional roller-coaster --peaking at the prospect the of staying and dropping at the thought of leaving. However, despite the heavy setback, all of us who wanted to stay on (7 out of 9) are staying thanks to the wonderful generosity of parents, fellowships, and grants. So although the study component of our trip is ending, a whole new journey enriched with our own interests and passions is just beginning.
This week we had not one, not two, but three birthdays...well four actually if you count Centurio --Man of the Century (who didn't tell us about his until it had already passed). The celebrations lasted days, beginning on Thursday and finally winding down on Saturday night. We started by gathered with all of our friends at a Thai restaurant to feast, reminisce and enjoy each others company. Our totally was 21 and included the nine of us, Professor Stewart, Dan and Centurio with their respective wives, Olivia, Paul and Martin from PCA, our three new break-dancing friends, and Brian. It was a warm and emotional gathering full of stories and memories. By brother Centurio's request, we were all encouraged to deliver a speech. Everyone had something to say, and the speeches were amazing and so full of love that the thought of the program's ending in a little over one week was overwhelming. The program had creeped to a start, but had surged to a finish before we could even realize it. Encouraged by the warmth of this country and its people I decided to prolong my adventure by staying on after the program.
Many had similar sentiments and had already began planning their summer activities in Uganda. However, it wasn't until we officially decided to change our return flight that we found out that our tickets were only good for a three month period including both outbound and return travel. Since I had left on March 20, to do some traveling around Europe, this arrangement meant that the latest I could return would be June 20, giving me only two additional weeks. To make matters worse, the cost to change the ticket skyrocketed from the expected $300 to over $1000, to account for the change in price of the new ticket, making purchasing a whole new return ticket a much better option. We were crushed. The week had been an emotional roller-coaster --peaking at the prospect the of staying and dropping at the thought of leaving. However, despite the heavy setback, all of us who wanted to stay on (7 out of 9) are staying thanks to the wonderful generosity of parents, fellowships, and grants. So although the study component of our trip is ending, a whole new journey enriched with our own interests and passions is just beginning.
Love, love, and more love.
Location: Kampala
So I am finally settled in in Kampala and I have to leave. I have found my niche, my family, my home here. Peace for Children Africa is what I have waited for my entire life. Thinking about it keeps me smiling from ear to ear- the joy I feel right now is overwhelming. Even when I dreamed about coming to Africa, I never fathomed I would find such happiness, the kind that puts you on cloud nine. But I found it, it’s here, and I just truly discovered its depths within the past two weeks. It amazes me how much love I have felt there. We tell each other how much we love each other- “nkwagala nnyo”, we hug, we are open with our to-the-moon affection for each other. Those children are my equals, my friends, not “poor Africans”. They have changed me. They have filled me with the sense of wholeness I have been seeking, and now I larger hole will be left when I leave. I have been so blessed in my trip to Uganda in finding this organization, and it is because of PCA that I will without a doubt return someday. I know now that my life is just beginning, that the happiness I seek awaits me if I only grab ahold of it, and that no matter how “successful” I become in the American sense, it will never compare to the joy, happiness, and love I can attain through the children of Africa.
Welaba Uganda, until next time. Nkwagala nnyo.
Week 9- (Lack of) Safety Nets
This past weekend we went to Jinga to white-water raft and bungee jump right on the Nile River. While some people in our group were worried or afraid of the rapids, the raft flipping, and bungee jumping in general, I wasn’t really nervous or worried at all. It’s not because I’m a super macho guy who isn’t afraid of anything. (Just bring a spider within 4 feet of me and watch me squirm.) I think the level of protection we had was simply so much greater than we’ve seen in other areas of life here. We had safety nets (metaphorically) all around us. We all wore life vests, were taught what to do in case we flipped, had a safety boat no more than 100 ft away, etc. We were prepared and protected for the worst-case scenarios. Unfortunately, this kind of protection doesn’t exist in other aspects of life here in Uganda. Other sectors, like health, are not provided similar levels of supplies for worst-case scenarios.
In the public hospitals, there are no “just in case” preparations. Resources are too limited and demand is too high to set up protection systems. In the emergency rooms, there are no “crash carts.” There are no “code blue” teams that burst into a room when a child’s heart stops. There aren’t even defibrillators for the on-call doctor to use to shock a heart back into normal rhythm. They don’t exist here. Instead, in their place, there are faulty face-masks to provide oxygen and a limited supply of epinephrine that is properly diluted one dose at a time. Instead of heart rate monitors that can alert staff of a child in distress, there are their parents who are silent with grief as they watch their child in his or her last moments. Instead of children with coughs and broken arms, the emergency rooms are filled with children suffering from malaria and sickle cell anemia. The picture of a public emergency room here in Uganda is drastically different from the ERs I have seen in the United States. The “Grey’s Anatomy” idea of pristinely clean white rooms aren’t even a fantasy here.
I spent two short days at Mulago hospital in the emergency room ward for children seeing some of the saddest situations I’ve ever witnessed. Doctors work incredibly hard here to save children but they face insurmountable odds. They seem to have enough training to know what to do in emergency situations but come in contact with these children when it’s too late or at a time when there are simply not enough supplies to allow them to do their jobs. It’s an incredibly sad situation to watch. As an American, I questioned our own role in these situations. Are we focusing on the wrong areas for funding? I asked the doctors in the ER what they thought about their severe lack of funding. They told me that the most common things they face are malaria, sickle cell anemia and malnutrition. They said that these issues simply aren’t the focus anymore due to HIV/AIDS. All the money goes to drug research, ARV therapies, etc. rather than on basic illnesses and the supplies needed to treat them. I don’t necessarily blame America or other foreign investors though. The Uganda government doesn’t provide enough funding for health care. They just recently further cut the Ministry of Health budget even further limiting the drugs and treatments that can be provided to Ugandans. As the election comes up, I want someone to make Musevani come to Mulago, come to the acute pediatric ward and tell me why he tolerates children dying that don’t have to. I want to know why he thinks providing simple services like heart monitors or defibrillators are not worth the government’s money. I don’t think anyone can see what I saw there and still have respect for that man or his practices. He would not be okay going to a hospital with the lack of safety nets that Mulago currently has. Yet, he is ok providing this level of care to his people.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
In the public hospitals, there are no “just in case” preparations. Resources are too limited and demand is too high to set up protection systems. In the emergency rooms, there are no “crash carts.” There are no “code blue” teams that burst into a room when a child’s heart stops. There aren’t even defibrillators for the on-call doctor to use to shock a heart back into normal rhythm. They don’t exist here. Instead, in their place, there are faulty face-masks to provide oxygen and a limited supply of epinephrine that is properly diluted one dose at a time. Instead of heart rate monitors that can alert staff of a child in distress, there are their parents who are silent with grief as they watch their child in his or her last moments. Instead of children with coughs and broken arms, the emergency rooms are filled with children suffering from malaria and sickle cell anemia. The picture of a public emergency room here in Uganda is drastically different from the ERs I have seen in the United States. The “Grey’s Anatomy” idea of pristinely clean white rooms aren’t even a fantasy here.
I spent two short days at Mulago hospital in the emergency room ward for children seeing some of the saddest situations I’ve ever witnessed. Doctors work incredibly hard here to save children but they face insurmountable odds. They seem to have enough training to know what to do in emergency situations but come in contact with these children when it’s too late or at a time when there are simply not enough supplies to allow them to do their jobs. It’s an incredibly sad situation to watch. As an American, I questioned our own role in these situations. Are we focusing on the wrong areas for funding? I asked the doctors in the ER what they thought about their severe lack of funding. They told me that the most common things they face are malaria, sickle cell anemia and malnutrition. They said that these issues simply aren’t the focus anymore due to HIV/AIDS. All the money goes to drug research, ARV therapies, etc. rather than on basic illnesses and the supplies needed to treat them. I don’t necessarily blame America or other foreign investors though. The Uganda government doesn’t provide enough funding for health care. They just recently further cut the Ministry of Health budget even further limiting the drugs and treatments that can be provided to Ugandans. As the election comes up, I want someone to make Musevani come to Mulago, come to the acute pediatric ward and tell me why he tolerates children dying that don’t have to. I want to know why he thinks providing simple services like heart monitors or defibrillators are not worth the government’s money. I don’t think anyone can see what I saw there and still have respect for that man or his practices. He would not be okay going to a hospital with the lack of safety nets that Mulago currently has. Yet, he is ok providing this level of care to his people.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
week 9 - reflections
Location: Kampala
Needless to say, being in Uganda has taught me a lot, in terms of the classes that I took, but mostly through the experience of living here. Most importantly, perhaps, is the much more informed view of the developing world that I have been able to develop through my experiences here. Though there is still a great deal that I do not understand, and though there are certain parts of this perspective that are lacking, I do believe that I understand the developing world better, as I have experienced it (as opposed to only being exposed to it through television, film, National Geographic, etc.).
As part of this, I have realized that far too many naïve foreigners come to do projects, and though their projects might be successful, they leave and never come back or follow up. They have something that they can be proud of and feel good about, but for many of these people, they sacrificed maybe two weeks of their time, but realistically, their presence in Uganda was that of just another foreigner thinking that their services are so badly needed and that they are so superior, when in reality, they do not leave any type of lasting impact.
It is this type of foreigner that I want to avoid being, and this is largely the reason why I have started focusing on making my project sustainable, by continuing to raise money through grants and donations, to give back to the community and to expand and move the project forward. Thinking that the impact of my project is going to be major in any way would be naïve of me, and I know that in the grand scheme of things, it is very difficult to make any type of major impact. However, I do want to at least leave some sort of a lasting impact on those people who I have interacted with throughout the course of my project.
Needless to say, being in Uganda has taught me a lot, in terms of the classes that I took, but mostly through the experience of living here. Most importantly, perhaps, is the much more informed view of the developing world that I have been able to develop through my experiences here. Though there is still a great deal that I do not understand, and though there are certain parts of this perspective that are lacking, I do believe that I understand the developing world better, as I have experienced it (as opposed to only being exposed to it through television, film, National Geographic, etc.).
As part of this, I have realized that far too many naïve foreigners come to do projects, and though their projects might be successful, they leave and never come back or follow up. They have something that they can be proud of and feel good about, but for many of these people, they sacrificed maybe two weeks of their time, but realistically, their presence in Uganda was that of just another foreigner thinking that their services are so badly needed and that they are so superior, when in reality, they do not leave any type of lasting impact.
It is this type of foreigner that I want to avoid being, and this is largely the reason why I have started focusing on making my project sustainable, by continuing to raise money through grants and donations, to give back to the community and to expand and move the project forward. Thinking that the impact of my project is going to be major in any way would be naïve of me, and I know that in the grand scheme of things, it is very difficult to make any type of major impact. However, I do want to at least leave some sort of a lasting impact on those people who I have interacted with throughout the course of my project.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Week 9 – A Brief Lunch Becomes a Powerful Experience
Location: Kampala, Uganda
For some time now, a refugee pastor from the DRC has been helping me with my project. Acting as a friend and interpreter, he has helped me turn what was once a disorganized mess into a meaningful and revealing product. One day as we sat down and discussed my research, we came up with the idea of holding a cookout where my group mates would be able to meet some Congolese refugees in the pastor’s neighborhood. The idea was simple: we would all come together and eat Congolese food and get to know a little about each other for an hour or two. This simple idea, however, turned into a powerful experience for us all.
On Saturday, May 29th, the day of the lunch, I met with the pastor early in the morning to discuss the get-together. After speaking for a few minutes, we came to the consensus that a simple lunch would not suffice. We needed to let my group mates know what these people had been thought and what they were still experiencing here in Kampala. When my friends arrived around two, I doubt they were expecting what they got. The lunch began with a group of children singing gospel music to us in Lingala, and after taking some time to eat, the next phase of the event began. Different Congolese refugees began standing up and relating moving experiences to us: they had witnessed rape, murder, and the complete destructing of their lives.
Though these stories were powerful, Professor Stewart noticed that the only speakers were men so she kindly asked if a woman could be given the chance to speak. None of us were prepared for what came next. A woman stood before us all and began telling us about how her children were forced to watch as she was raped, how most of her loved ones had been killed, and how these memories still plague her till this day. She then broke down in tears, and those members of our program who were not crying as well had completely blank faces. Now, I have heard many terrible stories over the course of my research, but nothing impacted me as much as this woman’s story. Most of the times that I have spoken to refugees about what they do to address their mental trauma, I have been met with a simple, “Nothing.” Knowing that this was likely one of the few times that this woman had spoken publicly about her trauma, I was even more touched by her story.
Though this experience was not easy to handle for any of us, I know that something good will come out of it. This gathering was only the first step. Using the content of this get-together as a guide, the pastor is already working to create an organization that can help some of the members of his community. Additionally, Professor Stewart and some of the students on our program are already thinking of ways that they can connect the Congolese refugee women that we met to resources that can help them deal with life after rape. The struggles of this community are great, but they are all skilled and intelligent. I know that they can overcome their troubles, and as I’m staying till September, I will try to help them in any way possible.
For some time now, a refugee pastor from the DRC has been helping me with my project. Acting as a friend and interpreter, he has helped me turn what was once a disorganized mess into a meaningful and revealing product. One day as we sat down and discussed my research, we came up with the idea of holding a cookout where my group mates would be able to meet some Congolese refugees in the pastor’s neighborhood. The idea was simple: we would all come together and eat Congolese food and get to know a little about each other for an hour or two. This simple idea, however, turned into a powerful experience for us all.
On Saturday, May 29th, the day of the lunch, I met with the pastor early in the morning to discuss the get-together. After speaking for a few minutes, we came to the consensus that a simple lunch would not suffice. We needed to let my group mates know what these people had been thought and what they were still experiencing here in Kampala. When my friends arrived around two, I doubt they were expecting what they got. The lunch began with a group of children singing gospel music to us in Lingala, and after taking some time to eat, the next phase of the event began. Different Congolese refugees began standing up and relating moving experiences to us: they had witnessed rape, murder, and the complete destructing of their lives.
Though these stories were powerful, Professor Stewart noticed that the only speakers were men so she kindly asked if a woman could be given the chance to speak. None of us were prepared for what came next. A woman stood before us all and began telling us about how her children were forced to watch as she was raped, how most of her loved ones had been killed, and how these memories still plague her till this day. She then broke down in tears, and those members of our program who were not crying as well had completely blank faces. Now, I have heard many terrible stories over the course of my research, but nothing impacted me as much as this woman’s story. Most of the times that I have spoken to refugees about what they do to address their mental trauma, I have been met with a simple, “Nothing.” Knowing that this was likely one of the few times that this woman had spoken publicly about her trauma, I was even more touched by her story.
Though this experience was not easy to handle for any of us, I know that something good will come out of it. This gathering was only the first step. Using the content of this get-together as a guide, the pastor is already working to create an organization that can help some of the members of his community. Additionally, Professor Stewart and some of the students on our program are already thinking of ways that they can connect the Congolese refugee women that we met to resources that can help them deal with life after rape. The struggles of this community are great, but they are all skilled and intelligent. I know that they can overcome their troubles, and as I’m staying till September, I will try to help them in any way possible.
Week 9: Happy Birthday in 3 Languages ... or 5
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This past week, I celebrated my birthday on May 29. I would have to say this birthday experience has been much more meaningful than any other birthday I have experienced in the past (except for my skating party back in 4th grade followed by some ice cream cake, that was COOL). There were multiple celebrations that week, as 3 of us aged one year in a span of one week.
The first meaningful experience came on Thursday. We had a dinner to celebrate Mary, Rachel, and my birthdays, where 21 people came to eat some Thai food. On top of the current students, Stewart, Dan and Centurio and their wives, there were Martin, Paul, the three b-boys, Olivia, and Brian. The dinner was great, but what touched me the most was what each of the other members had to say about their relationships with us students and how much it meant to them. It struck at that moment in time how amazing it was to meet such people, in such a short amount of time and build such meaningful relationships. I had met the b-boys only a week before, and Brian 10 days prior. Yet, we were able to click off similarities and talking about life that made it so much more.
The second significant experience came on my birthday. There was nothing planned; we had the dinner already so we didn’t need anything spectacular. Mark had originally invited us to go eat lunch with Congolese refugees hosted by his entrancing pastor Elijah and lovely wife. The whole crew went to the refugees expecting to only gather together for a lunch and some conversation, leaving in a short while. No one expected what was to come next. We heard some very real stories of how they became refugees and what they experience. They ran away from Congo to run away from war, brutality, rape, and just a horrible situation, but as one refugee pointed out, they still experience these problems in Uganda. They get treated poorly, and they don’t receive the same opportunities as citizens of this country. The stories were very telling, but what hit me the most was how even as they don’t know who I am, we celebrated my birthday together as if they had known me forever. Pastor Elijah graciously gave me a present of a hunter mounted with two spears to catch fish, representing the tribal Africa that once was. They even sang happy birthday to me in 3 different languages (English and another two that I assume was a local dialect of Congolese and Swahili, or maybe it was just Luganda) as though we had been family forever. I was rather speechless through the whole experience, dumbfounded at how they accepted us and told us their stories without hesitation and with meaning.
The last experience came with a movie night. We ordered some pizza, chicken with cabbage (enkoko ne embogo, yehh), ice cream, popcorn, and gather everybody together to watch Avatar and the Back-Up plan. In retrospect, the movie night was just like any other experience, gathering together as a group and watching some movies, but it hit me hard that we were going to separate in less than a week. Everyone is going back to their own lives and this truly beautiful experience in Uganda will all end in such a short while. I watched the Back-Up plan and started remembering all the good times we would go down to Wandegeya and pick up some movies on the way. I looked at the pizza and thought of the time that we ordered 4 large pizzas in a big group back in Week 2, and abhorred the fact at how immensely expensive it was, but provided a meaningful group experience that I will never forget. I looked at the chicken and cabbage and thought of the first day, where Tamon and I slept through the whole day, only to wake up at 1 in the morning to get the same chicken and cabbage, and some lovely Nile Specials to complement and take in the first experience of Uganda. And I look at the group and wonder when we will ever be able to get into a group like this again. I look at each person and wonder how different it will be to see each other back in school, and how different the relationships will develop.
Thank god 7 of the 9 of us chose to stay. The fun still hasn’t ended yet.
This past week, I celebrated my birthday on May 29. I would have to say this birthday experience has been much more meaningful than any other birthday I have experienced in the past (except for my skating party back in 4th grade followed by some ice cream cake, that was COOL). There were multiple celebrations that week, as 3 of us aged one year in a span of one week.
The first meaningful experience came on Thursday. We had a dinner to celebrate Mary, Rachel, and my birthdays, where 21 people came to eat some Thai food. On top of the current students, Stewart, Dan and Centurio and their wives, there were Martin, Paul, the three b-boys, Olivia, and Brian. The dinner was great, but what touched me the most was what each of the other members had to say about their relationships with us students and how much it meant to them. It struck at that moment in time how amazing it was to meet such people, in such a short amount of time and build such meaningful relationships. I had met the b-boys only a week before, and Brian 10 days prior. Yet, we were able to click off similarities and talking about life that made it so much more.
The second significant experience came on my birthday. There was nothing planned; we had the dinner already so we didn’t need anything spectacular. Mark had originally invited us to go eat lunch with Congolese refugees hosted by his entrancing pastor Elijah and lovely wife. The whole crew went to the refugees expecting to only gather together for a lunch and some conversation, leaving in a short while. No one expected what was to come next. We heard some very real stories of how they became refugees and what they experience. They ran away from Congo to run away from war, brutality, rape, and just a horrible situation, but as one refugee pointed out, they still experience these problems in Uganda. They get treated poorly, and they don’t receive the same opportunities as citizens of this country. The stories were very telling, but what hit me the most was how even as they don’t know who I am, we celebrated my birthday together as if they had known me forever. Pastor Elijah graciously gave me a present of a hunter mounted with two spears to catch fish, representing the tribal Africa that once was. They even sang happy birthday to me in 3 different languages (English and another two that I assume was a local dialect of Congolese and Swahili, or maybe it was just Luganda) as though we had been family forever. I was rather speechless through the whole experience, dumbfounded at how they accepted us and told us their stories without hesitation and with meaning.
The last experience came with a movie night. We ordered some pizza, chicken with cabbage (enkoko ne embogo, yehh), ice cream, popcorn, and gather everybody together to watch Avatar and the Back-Up plan. In retrospect, the movie night was just like any other experience, gathering together as a group and watching some movies, but it hit me hard that we were going to separate in less than a week. Everyone is going back to their own lives and this truly beautiful experience in Uganda will all end in such a short while. I watched the Back-Up plan and started remembering all the good times we would go down to Wandegeya and pick up some movies on the way. I looked at the pizza and thought of the time that we ordered 4 large pizzas in a big group back in Week 2, and abhorred the fact at how immensely expensive it was, but provided a meaningful group experience that I will never forget. I looked at the chicken and cabbage and thought of the first day, where Tamon and I slept through the whole day, only to wake up at 1 in the morning to get the same chicken and cabbage, and some lovely Nile Specials to complement and take in the first experience of Uganda. And I look at the group and wonder when we will ever be able to get into a group like this again. I look at each person and wonder how different it will be to see each other back in school, and how different the relationships will develop.
Thank god 7 of the 9 of us chose to stay. The fun still hasn’t ended yet.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Week 8: If Only You Could Hear What I Have TO Say
Location: Kampala, Uganda, some in Gaba Outreach Program
Our research project finally had a chance to kick off these last couple of weeks. I have had the great opportunity to conduct questionnaires and interviews with HIV/AIDS patients, analyzing the quality of healthcare at Nsambya Home Care and their important OutReach Program out in Ggaba. This has not only allowed me a chance to meet wonderful people, but provided me with valuable data about Nsambya Home Care.
Nsambya HomeCare was initially created to help PLWA patients afford their medications by subsidization and provide needed counseling to allow patients to cope with the situation. Not only do they provide treatment and counseling for 1000 shillings (50 cents), but they also make sure that patients leave the facility satisfied knowing what they have to deal with. Nsambya HomeCare really is a blessing. They have done so much to provide patients with the care they need to deal with HIV/AIDS, and they even opened an outreach program in Gaba for patients out in that region to have closer access to medication and treatment. Every health worker that I have met has been very welcoming and social, allowing me to research fluidly and quickly. However, as well as this HomeCare has provided treatment, there are nevertheless problems that they need to deal with.
The idea of a problem is related to your point of view on the situation. If you have never experienced a better way of life, you have no idea there is something better out there, so you may have no problem with an experience. However, if a patient is more educated and has gone through countless situations and understand the scenario better, he/she might have more to say in terms of improvement of the quality of care of a situation. Thus, a problem is very relative to what you know and what you have experienced. That was something I clearly saw between the patients at Gaba and Nsambya HomeCare. Gaba patients, who tended to be more rural, have very little problems with the quality of healthcare. The wait time is long, the health workers treat them fine, and they have very little complaints. However, patients at Nsambya HomeCare, though very gracious of the treatment and medication provided, have complaints in which they feel would make the experience more pleasant. For example, if they could provide free water, money for food due to the long wait time, and complaint boxes, they would be able to improve on the quality of healthcare and the patients would be happer with their experiences.
What I also realized is some information that people are willing to share in front of someone other than a health worker or community volunteer. It is in the subconscious to think that the health worker and community volunteers would be biased towards the quality of healthcare at the facility. They would be more likely to say the treatment as positive and the commitment of the health workers to be strong, but the patients would be much more willing to explain their problems to a third party. Interviews and questionnaires provide patients a chance to bring their complaint boxes to the table and share what they have to say, providing a freedom of speech to someone who is willing to listen.
This learning experience of qualitative research has more than helped me understand how patients act and how questions should be asked to not seem harsh and provoking. As one who has not done any previous qualitative research, Nsambya HomeCare has provided a valuable observational experience to perform a pilot study. I would very much like to thank Brian, the counselor, for being my translator and explaining the process of treatment at the Gaba OutReach Program, as well as Sister Irene, Teo, etc. for helping me out on my project. I would also like to thank Dr. Maria Musoke for letting me interview patients at Nsambya HomeCare and Head Nurse Grace for directing patients to me. This experience is more than I could have asked for in a couple of weeks in Uganda.
Our research project finally had a chance to kick off these last couple of weeks. I have had the great opportunity to conduct questionnaires and interviews with HIV/AIDS patients, analyzing the quality of healthcare at Nsambya Home Care and their important OutReach Program out in Ggaba. This has not only allowed me a chance to meet wonderful people, but provided me with valuable data about Nsambya Home Care.
Nsambya HomeCare was initially created to help PLWA patients afford their medications by subsidization and provide needed counseling to allow patients to cope with the situation. Not only do they provide treatment and counseling for 1000 shillings (50 cents), but they also make sure that patients leave the facility satisfied knowing what they have to deal with. Nsambya HomeCare really is a blessing. They have done so much to provide patients with the care they need to deal with HIV/AIDS, and they even opened an outreach program in Gaba for patients out in that region to have closer access to medication and treatment. Every health worker that I have met has been very welcoming and social, allowing me to research fluidly and quickly. However, as well as this HomeCare has provided treatment, there are nevertheless problems that they need to deal with.
The idea of a problem is related to your point of view on the situation. If you have never experienced a better way of life, you have no idea there is something better out there, so you may have no problem with an experience. However, if a patient is more educated and has gone through countless situations and understand the scenario better, he/she might have more to say in terms of improvement of the quality of care of a situation. Thus, a problem is very relative to what you know and what you have experienced. That was something I clearly saw between the patients at Gaba and Nsambya HomeCare. Gaba patients, who tended to be more rural, have very little problems with the quality of healthcare. The wait time is long, the health workers treat them fine, and they have very little complaints. However, patients at Nsambya HomeCare, though very gracious of the treatment and medication provided, have complaints in which they feel would make the experience more pleasant. For example, if they could provide free water, money for food due to the long wait time, and complaint boxes, they would be able to improve on the quality of healthcare and the patients would be happer with their experiences.
What I also realized is some information that people are willing to share in front of someone other than a health worker or community volunteer. It is in the subconscious to think that the health worker and community volunteers would be biased towards the quality of healthcare at the facility. They would be more likely to say the treatment as positive and the commitment of the health workers to be strong, but the patients would be much more willing to explain their problems to a third party. Interviews and questionnaires provide patients a chance to bring their complaint boxes to the table and share what they have to say, providing a freedom of speech to someone who is willing to listen.
This learning experience of qualitative research has more than helped me understand how patients act and how questions should be asked to not seem harsh and provoking. As one who has not done any previous qualitative research, Nsambya HomeCare has provided a valuable observational experience to perform a pilot study. I would very much like to thank Brian, the counselor, for being my translator and explaining the process of treatment at the Gaba OutReach Program, as well as Sister Irene, Teo, etc. for helping me out on my project. I would also like to thank Dr. Maria Musoke for letting me interview patients at Nsambya HomeCare and Head Nurse Grace for directing patients to me. This experience is more than I could have asked for in a couple of weeks in Uganda.
Week 8 - The War Continues for Former Ugandan Child Soldiers
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This week, our School of Public Health lessons revolved around the subject of mental health in Uganda. By far, the most interesting lecture we received was on the subject of post traumatic stress disorder in former Ugandan child solders. As we learned, the forces of Joseph Kony’s rebellion movement, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), have brought utter chaos and destruction to the region of northern Uganda. Over a period of roughly two decades, the LRA acted with what seemed to be a complete disregard for human life in its effort to overcome the Ugandan military. As explained by Derluyn, Broekaert, Schuyten, and De Temmerman (2004), this conflict had a significant impact on the lives of all the inhabitants of northern Uganda: “Tens of thousands of people have been killed and mutilated, hundreds of thousands displaced, and farming activities and livestock have been totally disrupted” (p. 861).
Though few in northern Uganda were left untouched by the hands of the LRA, perhaps the most detrimentally effected were the child soldiers used to fuel Kony’s campaign of terror; with more than 20,000 youths abducted to date, children comprise roughly 90% of all LRA recruits (Derluyen et. al 861).
Although a great deal of stability has come to northern Uganda in recent years, the conflict lives on in the minds of these child soldiers. Subject to sexual exploitation and abuse and forced to engage in the rape and murder of their loved ones, those children abducted by the LRA are at a monumental risk of developing a multitude of psychiatric disorders (Okello, Onen, and Musisi 225-226). Among the most common and problematic of the psychiatric disorders developed by these youths is posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Defined as “an emotional illness that usually develops as a result of a terribly frightening, life-threatening, or otherwise highly unsafe experience”, those living with PTSD may find it extremely difficult to adjust to life after war (Muhwezi slide 24). In general, PTSD symptoms are grouped into three categories: intrusive memories, avoidance and numbing, and increased anxiety or emotional arousal.
Intrusive memories, or “recurrent re-experiencing” of trauma, represent one of the most troublesome symptoms of PTSD (Muhwezi slide 25). Constantly burdened with the images and sounds of acts that they witnessed and committed during wartime, former Ugandan child soldiers often experience great struggles in their efforts to look toward a new, peaceful future. In a Lancet article entitled “Post-traumatic stress in former Ugandan child soldiers”, Ilse Derluyen and colleagues outline the true prevalence of the intrusive memories symptom in LRA abductees. Out of a total of 71 respondents who completed the impact of event scale-revised (IES-R)—a self-report scale for PTSD— the mean score for the intrusion symptom was found to be 18.2 out of a maximum score of 28 (Derluyen et. al 862). Given their additional findings on the events witnessed by many child soldiers during periods of conflict, this high occurrence of intrusion may come as no surprise; Out of a sample of 301 former child soldiers, 77% had seen someone being killed during their abduction, 6% saw a member of their immediate family being killed, 39% had to kill another person themselves, and 2% had to kill an immediate family member (Derluyen et. al 861). As many former Ugandan child soldiers have had their social support networks disrupted by the very events that caused their PTSD, policy makers in the Ugandan government and humanitarian organizations must continue with their efforts to support a healing process so that former LRA abductees may cope with their painful intrusive memories in a healthy fashion (Muhwezi slide 31).
Thought the symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder are indeed serious, a great deal of hope exists for former Ugandan child soldiers living with PTSD. One of the most effective tools in overcoming this devastating mental ailment is psychotherapy; by speaking with former child soldiers about their experiences as members of the LRA, mental health professionals can provide them with an outlet for emotions and memories that would otherwise go unexpressed. Additionally, further efforts are necessary to combat the stigmatization of child soldiers in those communities that have been devastated by the LRA. Though it may be difficult for many individuals in northern Uganda to greet the very child soldiers who killed their loved ones with open arms, the Ugandan government and the international community must work to spread awareness that these children were indeed forced to comply with Joseph Kony’s agenda.
References:
Derluyn, I., Broekaert, E., Schuyten, G., & De Temmerman, E. (2004) Post-traumatic stress in former Ugandan child soldiers, Lancet; 363: 861–63
Muhwezi, Wilson W. "Traumatization [Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD]
in Uganda." Introduction to Public Health: Module 4. Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda. 27 May. 2010. Lecture.
Okello, J., Onen, T, S., & Musisi, S. (2007). Psychiatric disorders among war-abducted and non-abducted adolescents in Gulu district, Uganda: a comparative study. African Journal of Psychiatry. 10:225-231
This week, our School of Public Health lessons revolved around the subject of mental health in Uganda. By far, the most interesting lecture we received was on the subject of post traumatic stress disorder in former Ugandan child solders. As we learned, the forces of Joseph Kony’s rebellion movement, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), have brought utter chaos and destruction to the region of northern Uganda. Over a period of roughly two decades, the LRA acted with what seemed to be a complete disregard for human life in its effort to overcome the Ugandan military. As explained by Derluyn, Broekaert, Schuyten, and De Temmerman (2004), this conflict had a significant impact on the lives of all the inhabitants of northern Uganda: “Tens of thousands of people have been killed and mutilated, hundreds of thousands displaced, and farming activities and livestock have been totally disrupted” (p. 861).
Though few in northern Uganda were left untouched by the hands of the LRA, perhaps the most detrimentally effected were the child soldiers used to fuel Kony’s campaign of terror; with more than 20,000 youths abducted to date, children comprise roughly 90% of all LRA recruits (Derluyen et. al 861).
Although a great deal of stability has come to northern Uganda in recent years, the conflict lives on in the minds of these child soldiers. Subject to sexual exploitation and abuse and forced to engage in the rape and murder of their loved ones, those children abducted by the LRA are at a monumental risk of developing a multitude of psychiatric disorders (Okello, Onen, and Musisi 225-226). Among the most common and problematic of the psychiatric disorders developed by these youths is posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Defined as “an emotional illness that usually develops as a result of a terribly frightening, life-threatening, or otherwise highly unsafe experience”, those living with PTSD may find it extremely difficult to adjust to life after war (Muhwezi slide 24). In general, PTSD symptoms are grouped into three categories: intrusive memories, avoidance and numbing, and increased anxiety or emotional arousal.
Intrusive memories, or “recurrent re-experiencing” of trauma, represent one of the most troublesome symptoms of PTSD (Muhwezi slide 25). Constantly burdened with the images and sounds of acts that they witnessed and committed during wartime, former Ugandan child soldiers often experience great struggles in their efforts to look toward a new, peaceful future. In a Lancet article entitled “Post-traumatic stress in former Ugandan child soldiers”, Ilse Derluyen and colleagues outline the true prevalence of the intrusive memories symptom in LRA abductees. Out of a total of 71 respondents who completed the impact of event scale-revised (IES-R)—a self-report scale for PTSD— the mean score for the intrusion symptom was found to be 18.2 out of a maximum score of 28 (Derluyen et. al 862). Given their additional findings on the events witnessed by many child soldiers during periods of conflict, this high occurrence of intrusion may come as no surprise; Out of a sample of 301 former child soldiers, 77% had seen someone being killed during their abduction, 6% saw a member of their immediate family being killed, 39% had to kill another person themselves, and 2% had to kill an immediate family member (Derluyen et. al 861). As many former Ugandan child soldiers have had their social support networks disrupted by the very events that caused their PTSD, policy makers in the Ugandan government and humanitarian organizations must continue with their efforts to support a healing process so that former LRA abductees may cope with their painful intrusive memories in a healthy fashion (Muhwezi slide 31).
Thought the symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder are indeed serious, a great deal of hope exists for former Ugandan child soldiers living with PTSD. One of the most effective tools in overcoming this devastating mental ailment is psychotherapy; by speaking with former child soldiers about their experiences as members of the LRA, mental health professionals can provide them with an outlet for emotions and memories that would otherwise go unexpressed. Additionally, further efforts are necessary to combat the stigmatization of child soldiers in those communities that have been devastated by the LRA. Though it may be difficult for many individuals in northern Uganda to greet the very child soldiers who killed their loved ones with open arms, the Ugandan government and the international community must work to spread awareness that these children were indeed forced to comply with Joseph Kony’s agenda.
References:
Derluyn, I., Broekaert, E., Schuyten, G., & De Temmerman, E. (2004) Post-traumatic stress in former Ugandan child soldiers, Lancet; 363: 861–63
Muhwezi, Wilson W. "Traumatization [Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD]
in Uganda." Introduction to Public Health: Module 4. Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda. 27 May. 2010. Lecture.
Okello, J., Onen, T, S., & Musisi, S. (2007). Psychiatric disorders among war-abducted and non-abducted adolescents in Gulu district, Uganda: a comparative study. African Journal of Psychiatry. 10:225-231
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Week 8 - The 145 ft. Jump
Location: Kampala
One thing I know for sure is that Uganda has emboldened me. This was revealed this weekend when we went to Jinja for white water rafting and bungee jumping. I must preface this post by noting that I am terrified of heights yet somehow I developed enough courage to plunge 145 feet down into the roaring Nile. After an entire afternoon rafting followed by close to ten hours of deep sleep, we woke up to a new day of adventure. The jump was set for 9:30 and I could barely hold down my breakfast in anticipation. After having mounted a daunting set of stairs, I stood at the top of the platform and watched as one by one my classmates made the leap. As it inched towards my turn, panic set in. Creeping towards the chair, at which point the towel/rope combination would be attached, I glanced over the edge which revealed a 44 meter drop. A few weeks back, the morning of Ssese trip, we spent a relaxing day by the pool side. There were three diving platforms of increasing height. Even though the highest couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from the surface of the water, the jump was intimidating and I barely had the courage to do it. Now, staring down into the Nile 145 vertical feet away made the fifteen foot jump look easy. Probably the scariest part of the whole experience was hopping towards the edge with your feet bound, and then edging even closer with nothing to hold onto. In theory, there's a bar above the edge that one should hold to facilitate the process of reaching the edge. However, I was too short to reach it and therefore had nothing to rely on for support. I had hardly enough time to collect myself before the countdown began...3...2...1....it's hard to believe that I actually jumped. Even looking back at on the moment and watching the video over and over again, I still feel jittery and my heart still races. The first twenty feet was a complete blur, and the stomach drop only set in after falling halfway down. I think that's when the realization of falling actually kicked in. Then the rope retracted and I soared up, then down, then up, then down again. The experience was amazing, definitely a moment of my life that I will continue to relive with the solid satisfaction of having had the courage to take the leap.
One thing I know for sure is that Uganda has emboldened me. This was revealed this weekend when we went to Jinja for white water rafting and bungee jumping. I must preface this post by noting that I am terrified of heights yet somehow I developed enough courage to plunge 145 feet down into the roaring Nile. After an entire afternoon rafting followed by close to ten hours of deep sleep, we woke up to a new day of adventure. The jump was set for 9:30 and I could barely hold down my breakfast in anticipation. After having mounted a daunting set of stairs, I stood at the top of the platform and watched as one by one my classmates made the leap. As it inched towards my turn, panic set in. Creeping towards the chair, at which point the towel/rope combination would be attached, I glanced over the edge which revealed a 44 meter drop. A few weeks back, the morning of Ssese trip, we spent a relaxing day by the pool side. There were three diving platforms of increasing height. Even though the highest couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from the surface of the water, the jump was intimidating and I barely had the courage to do it. Now, staring down into the Nile 145 vertical feet away made the fifteen foot jump look easy. Probably the scariest part of the whole experience was hopping towards the edge with your feet bound, and then edging even closer with nothing to hold onto. In theory, there's a bar above the edge that one should hold to facilitate the process of reaching the edge. However, I was too short to reach it and therefore had nothing to rely on for support. I had hardly enough time to collect myself before the countdown began...3...2...1....it's hard to believe that I actually jumped. Even looking back at on the moment and watching the video over and over again, I still feel jittery and my heart still races. The first twenty feet was a complete blur, and the stomach drop only set in after falling halfway down. I think that's when the realization of falling actually kicked in. Then the rope retracted and I soared up, then down, then up, then down again. The experience was amazing, definitely a moment of my life that I will continue to relive with the solid satisfaction of having had the courage to take the leap.
Week 8 - let the fun begin!!!
Location: Kampala and Jinja
This week was sooooooooooooooooo much fun!! On Sunday we went to see the move Imani and it was wonderful. I didn't know what to expect but I a little about the day before and I was amazed. It was so beautiful and so real. After the movie, we met with the director and the writer. I was a bit nervous to conduct an interview but they reminded me of me and my sister which was really nice. They were very down to earth and it was a lot of fun talking to them and seeing how the movie came about. Monday we visited a water treatment plant and the landfill. You can probably guess it wasn't the best smelling experience but it was very informative. Throughout the week, we broke up into groups of threes to work on presentations on our trip to the water treatment plant and the landfill. Because it was our first presentation, we didn't know exactly how to go about it. We only had a few days to prepare on top of our other activities and assignments. We were all a bit stressed out but in the end, everyone did really well and we were nervous for nothing. On Saturday we left for Jinja. Originally I wasn't going to go but I realized that this would be my last trip with the whole group so I went and I'm so glad I did. I pretty much hate water but I went rafting and at times I wish I hadn't. It was really fun but there were times where I thought I was going to flip out of the raft and die. Luckily for me, that never happened but our guide made us get in the water a few times just to get a feel for it. I argued with him a bit because I wasn't comfortable but in the end, it was good practice in case something happened and I fell in. Our bodies were so sore after rafting for 31 km!!! I basically passed out on the bed immediately and had one of the best nights sleep ever!! The next day, though I didn't bungee jump. I enjoyed watching my friends try to fly. Afterwards, I realized how much I'm going to miss this group and how lucky we all are to be here and be able to have fun with each other to create amazing memories.
This week was sooooooooooooooooo much fun!! On Sunday we went to see the move Imani and it was wonderful. I didn't know what to expect but I a little about the day before and I was amazed. It was so beautiful and so real. After the movie, we met with the director and the writer. I was a bit nervous to conduct an interview but they reminded me of me and my sister which was really nice. They were very down to earth and it was a lot of fun talking to them and seeing how the movie came about. Monday we visited a water treatment plant and the landfill. You can probably guess it wasn't the best smelling experience but it was very informative. Throughout the week, we broke up into groups of threes to work on presentations on our trip to the water treatment plant and the landfill. Because it was our first presentation, we didn't know exactly how to go about it. We only had a few days to prepare on top of our other activities and assignments. We were all a bit stressed out but in the end, everyone did really well and we were nervous for nothing. On Saturday we left for Jinja. Originally I wasn't going to go but I realized that this would be my last trip with the whole group so I went and I'm so glad I did. I pretty much hate water but I went rafting and at times I wish I hadn't. It was really fun but there were times where I thought I was going to flip out of the raft and die. Luckily for me, that never happened but our guide made us get in the water a few times just to get a feel for it. I argued with him a bit because I wasn't comfortable but in the end, it was good practice in case something happened and I fell in. Our bodies were so sore after rafting for 31 km!!! I basically passed out on the bed immediately and had one of the best nights sleep ever!! The next day, though I didn't bungee jump. I enjoyed watching my friends try to fly. Afterwards, I realized how much I'm going to miss this group and how lucky we all are to be here and be able to have fun with each other to create amazing memories.
Week 8 - Blisters and Bungee Jumping: A lesson in spontaneity
Well, I don't consider myself an extremely spontaneous person, but lately I have found that sometimes it pays off to do things without thinking about them too much.
On Wednesday, I was about to eat lunch at the small restaurant across the street from our flats when I received a phone call from the director at the Epilepsy Support Association of Uganda (ESAU). That morning, I had contacted him about the possibility of attending a general assembly meeting. I have become interested in studying epilepsy in Uganda, particularly the psychosocial aspects of the disorder, and I thought that attending this meeting might be a good way to show the organization that I was interested in their cause and would like to work with them further.
Now, I received this phone call around 1:40 p.m. The director explained that the best meeting for me to attend was that afternoon at 2:00 p.m. and that it wasn't that far from the university. Of course, I questioned briefly whether or not it was worth it for me to go to this meeting. I wasn't really sure where it was or how useful it would actually be for me to attend. I could have easily said that I was sorry and that I wouldn't be able to make it, eaten my lunch, and worked on my assignment due that evening. Instead, I ran to my room, changed into a nicer outfit, and googled the location of the meeting. I ran back to the restaurant, left money with the others ordering food, and took off to find the meeting.
I let the director know that I would be late and began walking in what I thought was the direction of the hotel where the meeting was being held. Let's just say that I asked at least fifteen people for directions on the way to this meeting, and I certainly walked twice the distance that I actually needed to. This whole time I could feel the blisters forming on the bottoms of my feet, but I kept walking. Eventually, I got to the meeting (about an hour late) and was introduced to everyone in the room as I tried to quietly take a seat in the back. The meeting was informative, but more importantly, I met many of the people involved in the national operations of the organization face-to-face. They were all very nice to me, and I knew that this would be an organization that would want to work with. Since the meeting, I have gone to the national office and found that the impressions I gained at this general assembly meeting were correct.
Overall, I'm glad that I made the split-second decision to go to the meeting. Even though I got terrible blisters (my feet are still recovering), I made great connections with people at ESAU and showed my enthusiasm for working with the organization.
Lesson two in spontaneity is a little less serious. This past weekend, we went to Jinja for white water rafting. We also had the option to go bungee jumping. Now, I have never really had a desire to go bungee jumping. I do love roller coasters, the giant drop and the like, but jumping from a platform with just a rope tied to my feet was never something I felt particularly inclined to do. But I thought, 'Hey, when am I going to get the chance to bungee jump over the Nile River again in my life?' And that pretty much sealed my fate.
Deciding to jump off of a 44 meter-high platform while standing on the ground is a lot easier than actually making that jump off of that 44 meter-high platform, though. I would say I remained pretty calm as I climbed up to the platform, and I was even pretty calm as they tied my feet together. I started to freak out a little bit when they asked me to hop to the side of the platform. I was even more freaked out when they told me to shuffle so that my toes were hanging off of the edge. I looked down when I was told not to, and then all of the guys yelled, "Three, two, one, bungee!" and I just had to jump.
I'll admit, it was pretty amazing, and I'd certainly do it again. I'm glad that I didn't let my fear prevent me from signing up to jump and that it didn't prevent me from jumping when I was standing at the edge of the platform.
So again, I'm glad that I did something spontaneous, something outside of my comfort zone. I'm already planning my next daredevil stunt. Bungee jumping has certainly made me brave.
Location: Kampala, Jinja
On Wednesday, I was about to eat lunch at the small restaurant across the street from our flats when I received a phone call from the director at the Epilepsy Support Association of Uganda (ESAU). That morning, I had contacted him about the possibility of attending a general assembly meeting. I have become interested in studying epilepsy in Uganda, particularly the psychosocial aspects of the disorder, and I thought that attending this meeting might be a good way to show the organization that I was interested in their cause and would like to work with them further.
Now, I received this phone call around 1:40 p.m. The director explained that the best meeting for me to attend was that afternoon at 2:00 p.m. and that it wasn't that far from the university. Of course, I questioned briefly whether or not it was worth it for me to go to this meeting. I wasn't really sure where it was or how useful it would actually be for me to attend. I could have easily said that I was sorry and that I wouldn't be able to make it, eaten my lunch, and worked on my assignment due that evening. Instead, I ran to my room, changed into a nicer outfit, and googled the location of the meeting. I ran back to the restaurant, left money with the others ordering food, and took off to find the meeting.
I let the director know that I would be late and began walking in what I thought was the direction of the hotel where the meeting was being held. Let's just say that I asked at least fifteen people for directions on the way to this meeting, and I certainly walked twice the distance that I actually needed to. This whole time I could feel the blisters forming on the bottoms of my feet, but I kept walking. Eventually, I got to the meeting (about an hour late) and was introduced to everyone in the room as I tried to quietly take a seat in the back. The meeting was informative, but more importantly, I met many of the people involved in the national operations of the organization face-to-face. They were all very nice to me, and I knew that this would be an organization that would want to work with. Since the meeting, I have gone to the national office and found that the impressions I gained at this general assembly meeting were correct.
Overall, I'm glad that I made the split-second decision to go to the meeting. Even though I got terrible blisters (my feet are still recovering), I made great connections with people at ESAU and showed my enthusiasm for working with the organization.
Lesson two in spontaneity is a little less serious. This past weekend, we went to Jinja for white water rafting. We also had the option to go bungee jumping. Now, I have never really had a desire to go bungee jumping. I do love roller coasters, the giant drop and the like, but jumping from a platform with just a rope tied to my feet was never something I felt particularly inclined to do. But I thought, 'Hey, when am I going to get the chance to bungee jump over the Nile River again in my life?' And that pretty much sealed my fate.
Deciding to jump off of a 44 meter-high platform while standing on the ground is a lot easier than actually making that jump off of that 44 meter-high platform, though. I would say I remained pretty calm as I climbed up to the platform, and I was even pretty calm as they tied my feet together. I started to freak out a little bit when they asked me to hop to the side of the platform. I was even more freaked out when they told me to shuffle so that my toes were hanging off of the edge. I looked down when I was told not to, and then all of the guys yelled, "Three, two, one, bungee!" and I just had to jump.
I'll admit, it was pretty amazing, and I'd certainly do it again. I'm glad that I didn't let my fear prevent me from signing up to jump and that it didn't prevent me from jumping when I was standing at the edge of the platform.
So again, I'm glad that I did something spontaneous, something outside of my comfort zone. I'm already planning my next daredevil stunt. Bungee jumping has certainly made me brave.
Location: Kampala, Jinja
week 8 - Kampala's music scene
Location:Kamapala
There is a surprisingly large and Hip Hop community in Kampala, especially when taking into consideration the relatively young popularity of Hip Hop in Uganda. Through my interactions with those involved in the Hip Hop community, there appears to be two distinct groups of artists: those who consider themselves to be “underground” (making music for themselves as opposed to for the money and popular appeal, whether intentionally or unintentionally), and those who consider themselves to be “mainstream,” or whose music is widely liked by the public. The division between underground and mainstream seems to be largely a matter of self-identity. Nearly all of the artists who I interacted with identified as one or the other, and they used this identity largely to shape their music.
The underground Hip Hop community is wide, diverse, and close-knit. It was initially started by Silas Babaluku – a Hip Hop artist who started the Bavubuka All-Stars Organization. Bavubuka is an organization that promotes the arts, but that is mainly known in Uganda as something of a Hip-Hop community center. Nearly every underground artist or group who I met came from Bavubuka, and many of the artists from outside of Kampala still have strong ties to the organization. I found that the underground scene in Uganda and Bavubuka really went hand in hand, which explains why the artists who call themselves underground are so tight and close-knit as a group. It should also be noted that Bavubuka that has quite a strong presence in Kampala. Many people who I spoke with, even though they were not at all involved in the Hip Hop scene, were still familiar with Bavubuka and its mission.
I have had considerably less interaction with the group of artists who consider themselves to be mainstream, but I have still interacted with a number of them. Aside from it being more difficult to access those mainstream artists, it was clear to me that the network of those artists was not nearly as close as the network of underground artists. Although most of the mainstream artists who I met seemed to know each other, they did not speak about one another so much as friends but more as colleagues, and so networking in this context was actually significantly more difficult. For them, it seemed, music was more of a profession – a context in which, as I saw it, they treated their music more like a business as opposed to a medium of artistic expression. Still, the mainstream music scene was still more about the music, and less about the money.
Although these mainstream artists were less accessible, I was still surprised at how accessible they turned out to be, especially compared to what I am used to in the United States. I was able to sit outside and take coffee with GNL – one of the most popular musicians in Uganda – and it seemed not to be a big deal. It was like sitting outside with anybody else – no bodyguards or disguises to go incognito, no lines of fans asking for autographs, and nobody taking pictures. I guess this should not have come as a surprise though: About a month ago, I saw a newspaper headline talking about GNL’s new 30million shilling record deal. I was impressed at first, until I realized that 30million is only about $15,000 USD. It is nice to know that even the popular music scene here is still a relatively down to earth, and compared to the U.S., rather low budget.
There is a surprisingly large and Hip Hop community in Kampala, especially when taking into consideration the relatively young popularity of Hip Hop in Uganda. Through my interactions with those involved in the Hip Hop community, there appears to be two distinct groups of artists: those who consider themselves to be “underground” (making music for themselves as opposed to for the money and popular appeal, whether intentionally or unintentionally), and those who consider themselves to be “mainstream,” or whose music is widely liked by the public. The division between underground and mainstream seems to be largely a matter of self-identity. Nearly all of the artists who I interacted with identified as one or the other, and they used this identity largely to shape their music.
The underground Hip Hop community is wide, diverse, and close-knit. It was initially started by Silas Babaluku – a Hip Hop artist who started the Bavubuka All-Stars Organization. Bavubuka is an organization that promotes the arts, but that is mainly known in Uganda as something of a Hip-Hop community center. Nearly every underground artist or group who I met came from Bavubuka, and many of the artists from outside of Kampala still have strong ties to the organization. I found that the underground scene in Uganda and Bavubuka really went hand in hand, which explains why the artists who call themselves underground are so tight and close-knit as a group. It should also be noted that Bavubuka that has quite a strong presence in Kampala. Many people who I spoke with, even though they were not at all involved in the Hip Hop scene, were still familiar with Bavubuka and its mission.
I have had considerably less interaction with the group of artists who consider themselves to be mainstream, but I have still interacted with a number of them. Aside from it being more difficult to access those mainstream artists, it was clear to me that the network of those artists was not nearly as close as the network of underground artists. Although most of the mainstream artists who I met seemed to know each other, they did not speak about one another so much as friends but more as colleagues, and so networking in this context was actually significantly more difficult. For them, it seemed, music was more of a profession – a context in which, as I saw it, they treated their music more like a business as opposed to a medium of artistic expression. Still, the mainstream music scene was still more about the music, and less about the money.
Although these mainstream artists were less accessible, I was still surprised at how accessible they turned out to be, especially compared to what I am used to in the United States. I was able to sit outside and take coffee with GNL – one of the most popular musicians in Uganda – and it seemed not to be a big deal. It was like sitting outside with anybody else – no bodyguards or disguises to go incognito, no lines of fans asking for autographs, and nobody taking pictures. I guess this should not have come as a surprise though: About a month ago, I saw a newspaper headline talking about GNL’s new 30million shilling record deal. I was impressed at first, until I realized that 30million is only about $15,000 USD. It is nice to know that even the popular music scene here is still a relatively down to earth, and compared to the U.S., rather low budget.
Week 8
Location: Kampala
There is no going back, ever, and if anyone sees me slipping, remind me of where I have been. I am so full of love for the things I have seen and people I have met- intellectually my heart is breaking but I feel next to nothing. Maybe it is a gift from God that I rarely cry, maybe it’s supposed to give me courage to keep going. Today our group had lunch with a community of Congolese refugees, some of whom shared their stories with us. When these men and women talked, you either saw nothing or everything in their eyes- overwhelming sadness or emptiness. One man spoke of how, as a pastor, he was asked by the military to provide children to the army. He refused on the grounds that those children were God’s, not his, and was taken to live for 9 months in the bush as a result. He was tortured and beaten during that time until he could finally escape, where he ran for six months. Ultimately he was rearrested on the charges that he was responsible for the kidnappings of other children. Today he lives with his wife in Uganda as he was kicked out of the country. His wife was raped, and one of his two children is not with them- he/she had gone missing but has recently been found and will be returned to him. It has been about 3 and half years and now he/she is six. Another man discussed how military men would kill people, cut up their bodies, roast the flesh, and then make the villagers eat the body. Finally, a woman spoke- saying that the military came to the house of her husband and children. The children were beaten in front of her while she was tied down and then subsequently raped in front of all of them. She began sobbing and ran to sit down, unable to continue. Do you know why the war in the Congo continues??? It is a war over our CELLPHONES and ELECTRONICS, it is perpetuated by America due to the desperate hunt for profitable minerals and materials to sell!!
Is the world ugly, or is it beautiful?? Is your life just one more life?? Are we supposed to have hope when all this happens? They do- they DO. WHY? If I ever go back to my old life, my old selfish lazy way of thinking, someone hit me over the head with a baseball bat. Even right now, I am listening to my American pop music while typing up a transcription of an interview I did with a ~15 year old girl, Alexa, whose uncle continually asked her to have sex with her until she ultimately ran away to the slum and was finally rescued from her crappy life. Oh, did I mention she was living with her aunt because her father died and her mother was too poor to take care of her?
I hate and love this place. I don’t know how to feel, but I do know that the love I receive from the kids I volunteer with, and the people that share their horrific stories with us, is worth more to me than anything else. How does this all go on when, walking through the streets of Kampala, I see outwardly nothing of the sort?
THIS IS WHY I CAME TO AFRICA. THIS IS WHY. MAY I NEVER, EVER RETURN TO MY IGNORANCE OR LOOK THE OTHER WAY AGAIN.
Week 8- (Un)Qualified
I began part II of my research plan this week. Part I involved interviewing 4th and 5th year medical students at Makerere University to understand the ethical challenges they’ve faced during their clinical rotations at Mulago National Referral Hospital. Part II involved observing wards at Mulago to better understand the context for the stories I had heard and to observe any other ethical issues that students did not address. I decided to focus on pediatrics wards because of the many stories I had already heard about ethical situations involving informed consent, rationing of medicine, and patient autonomy.
So, I addressed up (tie included) and went to a pediatric ward that I had been given permission to observe. I was required to wear a white coat (as all doctors do) on the ward while observing despite the fact that I was only there to observe, not treat. This white coat turned out to be more trouble than I had ever anticipated. I still don’t know whether it was because I was wearing the coat, am a mzungu (white person), or because of severe under-staffing that I was asked to help diagnose and treat patients. It’s probably a combination of all three reasons. From the moment I was introduced to the person I was shadowing I was perceived as having medical skills that I in fact do not. It took 5 minutes and many different attempts before I successfully explained to my guide that I was not qualified to help and that I really only wanted to observe despite the fact that she would allow me, if I had agreed, to help diagnose patients by listening to the heart and lungs, taking medical histories, etc. After talking with many interns and master’s students, it is evident that the idea of “just observing” seems silly and unproductive to them. Why would I not want to learn how to treat patients? Why could I not help them? Why was I there if all I wanted to do was watch? Why should they take the time to talk with me if I couldn’t provide some help in return? These were all the questions that I was directly and indirectly asked throughout the day.
As someone who is interested in ethics, I felt strongly that it would be unethical to try to treat patients without proper training despite the fact that it would have been much easier to simply take basic diagnostics to appease the staff. At the same time, I had to question whether my presence was causing an undo burden on the staff and on the patients. I kept asking myself, “Am I taking away from time the staff could be using to treat patients? Am I indirectly harming the patients?” This was particularly hard when I went to the acute pediatrics ward as I felt even more in the way and less prepared to handle what I saw.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
So, I addressed up (tie included) and went to a pediatric ward that I had been given permission to observe. I was required to wear a white coat (as all doctors do) on the ward while observing despite the fact that I was only there to observe, not treat. This white coat turned out to be more trouble than I had ever anticipated. I still don’t know whether it was because I was wearing the coat, am a mzungu (white person), or because of severe under-staffing that I was asked to help diagnose and treat patients. It’s probably a combination of all three reasons. From the moment I was introduced to the person I was shadowing I was perceived as having medical skills that I in fact do not. It took 5 minutes and many different attempts before I successfully explained to my guide that I was not qualified to help and that I really only wanted to observe despite the fact that she would allow me, if I had agreed, to help diagnose patients by listening to the heart and lungs, taking medical histories, etc. After talking with many interns and master’s students, it is evident that the idea of “just observing” seems silly and unproductive to them. Why would I not want to learn how to treat patients? Why could I not help them? Why was I there if all I wanted to do was watch? Why should they take the time to talk with me if I couldn’t provide some help in return? These were all the questions that I was directly and indirectly asked throughout the day.
As someone who is interested in ethics, I felt strongly that it would be unethical to try to treat patients without proper training despite the fact that it would have been much easier to simply take basic diagnostics to appease the staff. At the same time, I had to question whether my presence was causing an undo burden on the staff and on the patients. I kept asking myself, “Am I taking away from time the staff could be using to treat patients? Am I indirectly harming the patients?” This was particularly hard when I went to the acute pediatrics ward as I felt even more in the way and less prepared to handle what I saw.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Week 8- Our last adventure
This past weekend we went to Jinja on our last trip of the program. The scheduled activities were white water rafting down the Nile and bungee jumping over the Nile. Rafting was good fun for everyone, except two of us who wanted the boat to flip the least each fell out of the boat. My flip happened on the very last rapid of the day and involved a few minor injuries. The experience reinforced just how much I'm not cut out for outdoor activities. I much prefer seeing and experiencing nature from a safe distance, not as up close and personal as being sucked underwater in huge rapids. But that's beside the point. Most of the day was fun and I'll simply be avoiding rafting for the foreseeable future. On Sunday, people had the opportunity to go bungee jumping. As you can probably guess from my previous comments, that's not an activity for me. I have absolutely no desire to leap off of a platform hundreds of feet in the air, feel like I"m going to crash into the water, or be jerked back up by the elastic bungee cable. Instead, I enjoyed watching my friends take this crazy leap from a safe distance. While they all really enjoyed it, my favorite part was hearing the screaming and cursing that occurred as they made their initial fall. One guy even touched the Nile river upside down--and by touch I mean he was dunked up to his waist. All in all, it was a fun weekend, but we all left exhausted.
As much fun as I had, the end of the weekend signaled the very significant reality that our program is almost over. We have been on our last trip with Dan and Centurio, taken our last drive out of Kampala, and are now down to 11 days of exams, papers, and presentations before our program in Uganda officially ends. Thrown into the last week are 3 birthdays which should be great fun! But aside from that, it's hard to believe that we've been in Uganda for 8.5 weeks and our time as a group is quickly coming to an end. It feels like I'm just starting to get the hang of this city and now the program is over. Luckily, most of the group is actually planning to stay for some portion of the summer. I think only 2 of the 9 of us are set on leaving Uganda for good next week. I'm looking forward to having people to spend time with once the summer is upon us. And, as much as I have loved this program, I'm also excited to finally be able to focus on my research. Our lectures and trips have been great, but it's hard to really settle in and get involved in a project when your time and focus are constantly being pulled in multiple directions. As our program comes to a close, I'm sad to see certain experiences end and people leave, but I'm looking forward to what the summer will bring.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Week 7 - Interview with Zahara Nampeyo
Week 7- Interview with Zahara Nampeyo from PublicHealth Uganda on Vimeo.
This week we sat down and spoke with Zahara Nampeyo, a lecturer with the Makerere University Faculty of Law specializing in gender and law
Friday, May 21, 2010
Week 7 - Children of Uganda
Over the weeks here, I have seen many children, and I have noticed some of the differences between childhood in Uganda and childhood in the United States. Now, I do not intend to generalize my observations to all children in Uganda and all children in the United States. Rather I will describe some situations involving children in Uganda that surprised me or struck me as different than what I am used to seeing in the United States.
There are a lot of children here. Whether you are in Kampala city or driving through rural Uganda, you will see a large number of children playing together, walking home from school together, or doing chores together. This is not really that surprising once you remember that most families in Uganda have seven children on average.
Young children seem quite open to interacting with strangers. There is a sort of paranoia in the United States about children talking to or playing with strangers, but in Uganda, young kids will interact with strangers without the supervision of their parents. This does not mean that Ugandan children are not shy or cautious, though. I am specifically thinking of the time when we got a flat tire in Kakooge. A large number of children gathered at the gas station to see what was going on. We tried to talk to them, but they mostly laughed and kidded with each other. Eventually, though, they began to talk to us, and we ended up playing games together while we waited for the bus to be fixed. Outside of this experience, though, children often greet our group, ask us questions, and are generally quite open.
Children are given responsibility at a young age. I have seen very many young children carrying large jugs of water from the well to their homes. I have seen kids around six-years-old using a large blade to cut the grass around their homes. Furthermore, I have seen many kids actually working. For example, children often sell fruits and vegetables on the roadside (particularly in rural areas). In Sesse, I accompanied Joel to a small shop to buy some soda, and a young girl helped us get the sodas and took our money.
Some children live on the streets. This has been one of the most shocking experiences here in Uganda. It is not entirely unusual to see adults asking for money or living on the streets in the United States, but one does not normally see street children. Frequently, I walk by children sitting on the sidewalk with their hands extended in the air. Sometimes even toddlers are left to sit alone on the sidewalk. Some children are bolder, and they walk next to you or approach your car window. I have been told that many of these children come from Northern Uganda, and they have been displaced. I think Olivia, one of our dance instructors and friend, put it most poignantly when she said, You can't really tell them to go home because they can't.
These are just a few of the differences between the activities of some children in Uganda and those of some children in the United States that I have noticed in my time here. Of course, there are many similarities, as well. Children frequently play, and they do so in groups. They go to school and walk hand-in-hand with their parents. They are inquisitive and generally happy.
Overall, the children of Uganda have been some of the most welcoming and accepting people we have met. If you get past the, "Hi Muzungu! Hi Muzungu!" you can often have a very rewarding experience with the kids.
Location: Kampala, Kakooge, rural Uganda
There are a lot of children here. Whether you are in Kampala city or driving through rural Uganda, you will see a large number of children playing together, walking home from school together, or doing chores together. This is not really that surprising once you remember that most families in Uganda have seven children on average.
Young children seem quite open to interacting with strangers. There is a sort of paranoia in the United States about children talking to or playing with strangers, but in Uganda, young kids will interact with strangers without the supervision of their parents. This does not mean that Ugandan children are not shy or cautious, though. I am specifically thinking of the time when we got a flat tire in Kakooge. A large number of children gathered at the gas station to see what was going on. We tried to talk to them, but they mostly laughed and kidded with each other. Eventually, though, they began to talk to us, and we ended up playing games together while we waited for the bus to be fixed. Outside of this experience, though, children often greet our group, ask us questions, and are generally quite open.
Children are given responsibility at a young age. I have seen very many young children carrying large jugs of water from the well to their homes. I have seen kids around six-years-old using a large blade to cut the grass around their homes. Furthermore, I have seen many kids actually working. For example, children often sell fruits and vegetables on the roadside (particularly in rural areas). In Sesse, I accompanied Joel to a small shop to buy some soda, and a young girl helped us get the sodas and took our money.
Some children live on the streets. This has been one of the most shocking experiences here in Uganda. It is not entirely unusual to see adults asking for money or living on the streets in the United States, but one does not normally see street children. Frequently, I walk by children sitting on the sidewalk with their hands extended in the air. Sometimes even toddlers are left to sit alone on the sidewalk. Some children are bolder, and they walk next to you or approach your car window. I have been told that many of these children come from Northern Uganda, and they have been displaced. I think Olivia, one of our dance instructors and friend, put it most poignantly when she said, You can't really tell them to go home because they can't.
These are just a few of the differences between the activities of some children in Uganda and those of some children in the United States that I have noticed in my time here. Of course, there are many similarities, as well. Children frequently play, and they do so in groups. They go to school and walk hand-in-hand with their parents. They are inquisitive and generally happy.
Overall, the children of Uganda have been some of the most welcoming and accepting people we have met. If you get past the, "Hi Muzungu! Hi Muzungu!" you can often have a very rewarding experience with the kids.
Location: Kampala, Kakooge, rural Uganda
Week 7 - time flies when you're having fun!!
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This week we resumed classes which was a little weird because we spent a lot of time traveling for two weeks doing various projects. Nonetheless, it was nice to get back into the swing of things. We had a group meeting and something clicked...only 3 weeks left!!! I felt like I just got here and now I have to start wrapping things up?? It's mind boggling to think about where I was emotionally before I came and now. I feel like its a night and day difference. A lot of us don't want to leave and I know it's definitely going to be a struggle adjusting to life in the states. Yes there is indoor plumbing most everywhere but the people here are so amazing!! I never would have dreamed that I would fall in love with Uganda but now it is my goal to get a job and find my way back.
This week, we had wonderful lectures on Gender and Law in Uganda. There was so much information and remaining issues that I was not aware of. Our professor told us a story about a young woman who was forced by her husband to breastfeed his puppies. He believed that because he gave away his two cows for the bride price that someone had to provide the milk. This went on for years and as she told us this story, everyone was like stone! How could this still be happening? The issue of universal laws was brought up and seen as a challenge because many African countries still practice or maintain certain traditional guidelines, especially when it comes to gender. Looking back, those lectures really opened my eyes and inspired the feminist in me! We still have a long way in the fight for justice and equality and I was so glad to hear what Uganda is doing in order to empower its women.
This week we resumed classes which was a little weird because we spent a lot of time traveling for two weeks doing various projects. Nonetheless, it was nice to get back into the swing of things. We had a group meeting and something clicked...only 3 weeks left!!! I felt like I just got here and now I have to start wrapping things up?? It's mind boggling to think about where I was emotionally before I came and now. I feel like its a night and day difference. A lot of us don't want to leave and I know it's definitely going to be a struggle adjusting to life in the states. Yes there is indoor plumbing most everywhere but the people here are so amazing!! I never would have dreamed that I would fall in love with Uganda but now it is my goal to get a job and find my way back.
This week, we had wonderful lectures on Gender and Law in Uganda. There was so much information and remaining issues that I was not aware of. Our professor told us a story about a young woman who was forced by her husband to breastfeed his puppies. He believed that because he gave away his two cows for the bride price that someone had to provide the milk. This went on for years and as she told us this story, everyone was like stone! How could this still be happening? The issue of universal laws was brought up and seen as a challenge because many African countries still practice or maintain certain traditional guidelines, especially when it comes to gender. Looking back, those lectures really opened my eyes and inspired the feminist in me! We still have a long way in the fight for justice and equality and I was so glad to hear what Uganda is doing in order to empower its women.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Week 7 - Maribou Storks in their Natural Habitat
Location: Kampala
This week, as part of our SPH curriculum, we had the opportunity to visit the Kitezi landfill, only to find the second most common thing found after garbage is in fact, the Maribou Stork. These large mysterious birds have strangely fascinated me since day one of this adventure. However, after this site visit, I'm even more enchanted by their impact on society. These giant birds have in the past been a mixed blessing, in fact, many of our power-outages were directly attributed to their landing on the wires and causing damage. However, it appears that the birds also serve another purpose --they eat the rotting meat at the landfill, reducing the smell and improving the general sanitation at the site by eliminating this waste product.
After having to provide a detailed explanation on the pathways of untreated sewage and trash, I came to realize how complex the process of waste management really is. We really take for granted how much work, manpower, engineering goes into treatment of sewage water and garbage disposal. It's easy to dismiss our garbage and never think about it again, but the sad reality is that there is a whole other component to garbage that we don't even think about. Instead of simply being compacted and buried as I had previously imagined, there is apparently an entire leachate treatment process that manages and disposes the liquid residue from the rotting garbage. Furthermore, since there are little to no recycling facilities in Uganda, the burden of sorting garbage for reusable parts falls onto the scavengers who collect salvageable materials. Scavengers survive off the rubbish and debris that gets tossed into the landfill by salvaging metal and plastic scraps and reselling them. None of these people, however, wear protective clothing like boots or gloves, which is shocking considering the amount of dangerous materials that we found at the site. There was illegal medical waste including opened syringes, razors, and other hazardous materials. I was concerned for my personal safely even while wearing closed-toed shoes. It's unimaginable how people avoid dangerous infections and illnesses without the proper equipment.
In addition to viewing the Kitezi landfill, we also visited the main sewage treatment facility only to learn about the extensive engineering that's involved in creating such a under-valued service. I think it takes losing running water for about a week to really appreciate indoor plumbing and the processes necessary to carry out the job.
This week, as part of our SPH curriculum, we had the opportunity to visit the Kitezi landfill, only to find the second most common thing found after garbage is in fact, the Maribou Stork. These large mysterious birds have strangely fascinated me since day one of this adventure. However, after this site visit, I'm even more enchanted by their impact on society. These giant birds have in the past been a mixed blessing, in fact, many of our power-outages were directly attributed to their landing on the wires and causing damage. However, it appears that the birds also serve another purpose --they eat the rotting meat at the landfill, reducing the smell and improving the general sanitation at the site by eliminating this waste product.
After having to provide a detailed explanation on the pathways of untreated sewage and trash, I came to realize how complex the process of waste management really is. We really take for granted how much work, manpower, engineering goes into treatment of sewage water and garbage disposal. It's easy to dismiss our garbage and never think about it again, but the sad reality is that there is a whole other component to garbage that we don't even think about. Instead of simply being compacted and buried as I had previously imagined, there is apparently an entire leachate treatment process that manages and disposes the liquid residue from the rotting garbage. Furthermore, since there are little to no recycling facilities in Uganda, the burden of sorting garbage for reusable parts falls onto the scavengers who collect salvageable materials. Scavengers survive off the rubbish and debris that gets tossed into the landfill by salvaging metal and plastic scraps and reselling them. None of these people, however, wear protective clothing like boots or gloves, which is shocking considering the amount of dangerous materials that we found at the site. There was illegal medical waste including opened syringes, razors, and other hazardous materials. I was concerned for my personal safely even while wearing closed-toed shoes. It's unimaginable how people avoid dangerous infections and illnesses without the proper equipment.
In addition to viewing the Kitezi landfill, we also visited the main sewage treatment facility only to learn about the extensive engineering that's involved in creating such a under-valued service. I think it takes losing running water for about a week to really appreciate indoor plumbing and the processes necessary to carry out the job.
Week 7 - An Experience With Corruption
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This week, a friend who had been helping me with my research on refugees asked me if I would accompany him to the police station. About a week earlier, a terrible crime had been committed against one of his family members and he was having little luck working with the Ugandan police. When he first reported the crime, he was told that he would have to pay a fee of 60,000 Ugandan Shillings (roughly 30 USD) if he wished to obtain a police report. For most Ugandans, such funds would be difficult to raise; for a refugee who had just arrived in Kampala a few months earlier, such funds would be impossible to raise. As my friend’s family needed the police report to receive help from the Protection Office at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), the corruption of a Ugandan police officer was getting in the way of what could be highly valuable assistance. In asking me to come with him to the police station, my had expected that the police would be much less likely to demand a fee in the presence of an American.
After arriving at the police station, we were directed to the office of the appropriate department head. When we entered, I saw three men sitting on the floor with their hands bound. Now, I recognize that it is nearly impossible to discern the ages of Ugandans, but I doubt that these men could have been much older than my twenty-year-old self. The officer in charge of this particular department then reached down and removed the men’s handcuffs, and with little regard to the fact that my friend and I were watching him, he began kicking them mercilessly. I immediately assumed that they must have committed some unspeakable crime, a crime so terrible that this officer was willing to cast aside protocol to make sure that they were punished. When his legs had gotten tired, the officer then ordered one of the criminals to stand up; subsequently, he slapped him right back down to the floor. One of the men then began crying, and as a result he too was stricken across the face.
After the officer had finished with the men, he turned to us smiled. With the criminals still sitting on the floor, my friend introduced me to the officer and explained to him that he had come to pick up a police report. After shaking the man’s hand, I asked him if he would mind explaining what crime these men had committed: they had been caught smoking marijuana in a public place. Even after I told my friend that such violence would warrant the suspension and even arrest of a police officer in the United States, he simply stared at me with disbelief.
The officer looked at me and then looked right back at my friend and asked, “I remember you from last week, surely you have been given your report by now?” When my friend explained that he had been asked for a fee that he could not pay, the officer contended that it must have been a misunderstanding as he himself had already printed the report. After my friend asked him if he could have the report, the officer then stated that it had been given to an officer in one of the other departments; the problem was, he didn’t know which one. So for the next hour, we went from office to office looking for the illusive police report. When we all excepted that the report had either been lost or non existent, the officer presented us with a proposition: As the report was clearly not in the police station, he stated that he could go to his own home where he could print it off for us. The only requirement, he added, was that we would have to pay him a small fee for transportation. Now, I’m didn’t have that much knowledge about the legal system in Uganda, but I was pretty sure that my friend shouldn’t have had to pay the price for police negligence so we left without a report. After consulting with a Ugandan lawyer, my suspicions were indeed affirmed; the officer had been asking for a bribe in a roundabout way. I know that police are paid close to nothing here, but I do not feel that people should suffer for this. A member of my friend’s family had just been the victim of an unspeakable crime and the officer was only adding to his anguish.
This week, a friend who had been helping me with my research on refugees asked me if I would accompany him to the police station. About a week earlier, a terrible crime had been committed against one of his family members and he was having little luck working with the Ugandan police. When he first reported the crime, he was told that he would have to pay a fee of 60,000 Ugandan Shillings (roughly 30 USD) if he wished to obtain a police report. For most Ugandans, such funds would be difficult to raise; for a refugee who had just arrived in Kampala a few months earlier, such funds would be impossible to raise. As my friend’s family needed the police report to receive help from the Protection Office at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), the corruption of a Ugandan police officer was getting in the way of what could be highly valuable assistance. In asking me to come with him to the police station, my had expected that the police would be much less likely to demand a fee in the presence of an American.
After arriving at the police station, we were directed to the office of the appropriate department head. When we entered, I saw three men sitting on the floor with their hands bound. Now, I recognize that it is nearly impossible to discern the ages of Ugandans, but I doubt that these men could have been much older than my twenty-year-old self. The officer in charge of this particular department then reached down and removed the men’s handcuffs, and with little regard to the fact that my friend and I were watching him, he began kicking them mercilessly. I immediately assumed that they must have committed some unspeakable crime, a crime so terrible that this officer was willing to cast aside protocol to make sure that they were punished. When his legs had gotten tired, the officer then ordered one of the criminals to stand up; subsequently, he slapped him right back down to the floor. One of the men then began crying, and as a result he too was stricken across the face.
After the officer had finished with the men, he turned to us smiled. With the criminals still sitting on the floor, my friend introduced me to the officer and explained to him that he had come to pick up a police report. After shaking the man’s hand, I asked him if he would mind explaining what crime these men had committed: they had been caught smoking marijuana in a public place. Even after I told my friend that such violence would warrant the suspension and even arrest of a police officer in the United States, he simply stared at me with disbelief.
The officer looked at me and then looked right back at my friend and asked, “I remember you from last week, surely you have been given your report by now?” When my friend explained that he had been asked for a fee that he could not pay, the officer contended that it must have been a misunderstanding as he himself had already printed the report. After my friend asked him if he could have the report, the officer then stated that it had been given to an officer in one of the other departments; the problem was, he didn’t know which one. So for the next hour, we went from office to office looking for the illusive police report. When we all excepted that the report had either been lost or non existent, the officer presented us with a proposition: As the report was clearly not in the police station, he stated that he could go to his own home where he could print it off for us. The only requirement, he added, was that we would have to pay him a small fee for transportation. Now, I’m didn’t have that much knowledge about the legal system in Uganda, but I was pretty sure that my friend shouldn’t have had to pay the price for police negligence so we left without a report. After consulting with a Ugandan lawyer, my suspicions were indeed affirmed; the officer had been asking for a bribe in a roundabout way. I know that police are paid close to nothing here, but I do not feel that people should suffer for this. A member of my friend’s family had just been the victim of an unspeakable crime and the officer was only adding to his anguish.
Week 7- That could be me
This past week, while accompanying a nurse on adherence home visits in an effort to better understand the HIV/AIDS experience, I came across a situation that made me pause to reconsider my own life. I met a young woman, 21 years old just like me, who is HIV positive. She contracted the disease from her parents, but she is the only one of her siblings to be HIV positive. In the course of my research I've come across many HIV positive patients, but meeting this woman reinforced the reality of the disease. Like me she is not married and doesn't have children, but instead of planning a carefree future, she must consider how HIV will affect her life and how she can best manage it. Now, I can't comment on this woman's state of mind. I have no idea if she has come to terms with her disease, whether it dictates how she proceeds with her life, or how it might limit her. But I can, to some extent, consider what such a diagnosis would do to me. At 21, with so much of life still ahead of me, it would be absolutely devastating to receive such news. I don't believe it's possible to go on with the same life that you lived before the diagnosis--HIV/AIDS is too big of a disease to simply push to the back of your mind. In the United States, where the prevalence of HIV is less that 1% and being positive no longer constitutes a death sentence, I think it might be easier to live with HIV. But here in Africa, Uganda specifically, where the prevalence is back above 6% and only a tiny fraction of those in need receive ARVs, there is not the same positive outlook for all HIV patients.
What really makes me pause over this woman's story is how she contracted HIV. This is not a case of a woman being promiscuous and having multiple partners or of someone who is reckless and doesn't get tested. Instead, she received HIV from her parents at birth, something completely out of her control and left to fate. Perhaps, on the one hand, it's better to know that she had nothing to do with her status--perhaps that alleviates guilt that others might feel over unsafe behavior. But on the other hand, I know that such a situation would make me feel powerless. How could my parents, the people who were supposed to protect me, give me such a life sentence? I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for this woman to come to terms with what her disease meant for the rest of her life.
Ultimately, seeing what kind of an effect HIV can have on all portions of the population gave me serious perspective on my own life. This could happen to me. Perhaps not in quite the same way, since i didn't contract HIV from my parents, but I could go out and get the disease in a different way. It could drastically alter the course of my future. Despite the advances of modern medicine, there is still no cure for HIV/AIDS and I would have to live the rest of my life knowing that. I think that many of us at a young age feel that we're invincible--that nothing bad will happen to us. My time in Uganda, however, has shown me how wrong that assumption can be. I've seen children, teenagers, and young adults all HIV positive and dealing with that reality. Although this might sound cliche, I will leave Uganda a bit more conscious of how often we take life for granted, even though it's incredibly precious. I am more thankful than ever to be a healthy 21 year old who is not faced with such a life-altering diagnosis. HIV/AIDS can happen to all of us and it's up to us to fight the climbing prevalence of HIV and protect our lives.
Week 7: Some Look For Joy, Others Create It
Location: Kampala, Uganda
This week, in comparison to all our other weeks, has been relatively uneventful. That isn’t to say nothing has gone on at all this week, but looking at Week 3: Busabi, Week 5: Rakai, Week 6: Ssese Islands, this week had no excursions. However, we had one of the most wonderful opportunities one could ask for; as a group, Stewart asked us to watch the first biggest film directed and produced by a native Ugandan that was presented at the Berlin Festival.
Imani is a film that intertwines three different stories of common, yet unheard experiences in modern day Uganda. The first talks about a breakdancer with a dark past. He works his way towards performance and inspiration only to be held back by an old childhood rival friend who only looks to cause trouble. The second story goes through the experiences of a Ugandan female maid. Her sister goes to jail after getting into a fight with her husband, forcing the female maid to sell her possessions and perform sexual activities to get enough money to bail her out. Lastly, the final story speaks through the effects of the war up in Gulu, northern Uganda, and its effect on a child soldier who is having a rough homecoming. All these three stories and the presentation of the movie give even those who do not reside in Uganda a real perspective to how the country exists. The presentation, subtle snapshots of the lovely surburban hill side, strong and noisy Kampala city, and the rough and rural life of Uganda all show Uganda at who she really is.
Even though we found it personally amusing and enriching, critics came out to the movie with mixed reviews. There were positive ones, stating one storyline as “this near-silent strand packs quite a punch thanks to its fully controlled, understated perfs and reliance on the power of the unspoken”. But there were completely negative responses asserting the film as “A disappointingly conventional choice for a Berlinale section designed to showcase innovation and risk-taking, Imani is essentially a trio of shorts chopped together into a feature.” This same critic does make some strong judgments that I do believe as well. The abrupt termination of the project refuses to bring a climax and leaves you wondering how many of the stories actually ended. Each character wasn’t fully developed or explained so it was hard to understand at certain points what each was going through. Even so, the general public on forums praised this movie as inspirational, presenting this moving as “one ready for open minds and looking for something different”.
Afterwards, we got an opportunity of a lifetime to meet with the director and screen writer of the movie (sisters). We had a discussion about the movie, ideas we found interesting, and criticisms we may have had. Out of this whole experience, there was a question that came across about the reason they made the movie, and the director, Caroline, responds “I just wanted to tell three stories”. That hit me as unusual, yet very satisfying. Uganda is in a situation, I believe, in which the stories really need to be told. In the news, you usually hear about the political turmoil, landslides, poverty, and low incomes leading to a lower standard of living. However, people don’t really get a chance to see how people live. You hear statistics, deaths, and the end result, but no one ever gets to hear the process and story behind the situation. That is why this movie was through-provoking and very understanding. It provides the truth behind what people don’t realize and brings Uganda into the perspective of the world. From the boda bodas, to the rural life, and the suburban screen shots of Uganda, the movie is realistic and eye-opening. Besides the release in Kampala, there will be further releases in Seattle, D.C. as well as cities in Canada, in which I highly recommend people go to theaters and watch.
References:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/film-reviews/imani-film-review-1004067088.story
http://www.variety.com/review/VE1117942154.html?categoryid=31&cs=1
This week, in comparison to all our other weeks, has been relatively uneventful. That isn’t to say nothing has gone on at all this week, but looking at Week 3: Busabi, Week 5: Rakai, Week 6: Ssese Islands, this week had no excursions. However, we had one of the most wonderful opportunities one could ask for; as a group, Stewart asked us to watch the first biggest film directed and produced by a native Ugandan that was presented at the Berlin Festival.
Imani is a film that intertwines three different stories of common, yet unheard experiences in modern day Uganda. The first talks about a breakdancer with a dark past. He works his way towards performance and inspiration only to be held back by an old childhood rival friend who only looks to cause trouble. The second story goes through the experiences of a Ugandan female maid. Her sister goes to jail after getting into a fight with her husband, forcing the female maid to sell her possessions and perform sexual activities to get enough money to bail her out. Lastly, the final story speaks through the effects of the war up in Gulu, northern Uganda, and its effect on a child soldier who is having a rough homecoming. All these three stories and the presentation of the movie give even those who do not reside in Uganda a real perspective to how the country exists. The presentation, subtle snapshots of the lovely surburban hill side, strong and noisy Kampala city, and the rough and rural life of Uganda all show Uganda at who she really is.
Even though we found it personally amusing and enriching, critics came out to the movie with mixed reviews. There were positive ones, stating one storyline as “this near-silent strand packs quite a punch thanks to its fully controlled, understated perfs and reliance on the power of the unspoken”. But there were completely negative responses asserting the film as “A disappointingly conventional choice for a Berlinale section designed to showcase innovation and risk-taking, Imani is essentially a trio of shorts chopped together into a feature.” This same critic does make some strong judgments that I do believe as well. The abrupt termination of the project refuses to bring a climax and leaves you wondering how many of the stories actually ended. Each character wasn’t fully developed or explained so it was hard to understand at certain points what each was going through. Even so, the general public on forums praised this movie as inspirational, presenting this moving as “one ready for open minds and looking for something different”.
Afterwards, we got an opportunity of a lifetime to meet with the director and screen writer of the movie (sisters). We had a discussion about the movie, ideas we found interesting, and criticisms we may have had. Out of this whole experience, there was a question that came across about the reason they made the movie, and the director, Caroline, responds “I just wanted to tell three stories”. That hit me as unusual, yet very satisfying. Uganda is in a situation, I believe, in which the stories really need to be told. In the news, you usually hear about the political turmoil, landslides, poverty, and low incomes leading to a lower standard of living. However, people don’t really get a chance to see how people live. You hear statistics, deaths, and the end result, but no one ever gets to hear the process and story behind the situation. That is why this movie was through-provoking and very understanding. It provides the truth behind what people don’t realize and brings Uganda into the perspective of the world. From the boda bodas, to the rural life, and the suburban screen shots of Uganda, the movie is realistic and eye-opening. Besides the release in Kampala, there will be further releases in Seattle, D.C. as well as cities in Canada, in which I highly recommend people go to theaters and watch.
References:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/film-reviews/imani-film-review-1004067088.story
http://www.variety.com/review/VE1117942154.html?categoryid=31&cs=1
week 7 - Kisenyi
Location: Kampala, Kisenyi
As part of my hip-hop project, I am holding a series of “workshop sessions.” These workshop sessions were held to bring together artists and community members interested in discussing their knowledge of how HIV/AIDS is transmitted, who is most at risk of acquiring HIV/AIDS, general issues of stigma surrounding HIV+ people, etc. Based on these conversations, we have been able to generate new creative content for the album.
The workshop sessions have been very interesting for me, as they have exposed me to certain people and areas of Kampala that I would otherwise have never been exposed to. For example, I have so far held two sessions in Kisenyi, where the largest slum in Uganda is located. I have met with several groups of people during the “ghetto tours” that I have held. I always interact with the street children who live in the slum, many of whom already have drug problems at ten years old, have been abused by their parents, or who had no place to go once their parents died or were killed. One child I interviewed was fourteen years old and pregnant and sleeping outside in the ghetto, suffering from drug dependency and with no place to go. I also visited the small, windowless room where three sex workers and their three children lived, and spoke to them about their lives and their experiences with HIV/AIDS. There was one girl who I interviewed, however, whose experiences stand out the most. The following is a brief description of her experiences:
At only thirteen years old, her life is already filled with experiences that would leave anybody shaken and traumatized. She lives on the street in the slum, and cannot sleep without worrying about being raped in the night. Her worst fear, in fact, is being raped, and her worst fear has become reality on several occasions. She showed me the scars and bruises from only a couple days prior, when some men beat her because of her refusal to comply with their demands. Luckily, she is HIV negative, but she knows many people who are positive, and she told me how the virus is spread so easily in the slum. There are those in the slum who knowingly spread the virus, often due to lack of protection, lack of knowledge, rape, lack of care, or because it is necessary to make some money in whatever way is necessary.
As with many of our experiences here, it is these types of experiences that make all of our problems seem so minor in comparison.
As part of my hip-hop project, I am holding a series of “workshop sessions.” These workshop sessions were held to bring together artists and community members interested in discussing their knowledge of how HIV/AIDS is transmitted, who is most at risk of acquiring HIV/AIDS, general issues of stigma surrounding HIV+ people, etc. Based on these conversations, we have been able to generate new creative content for the album.
The workshop sessions have been very interesting for me, as they have exposed me to certain people and areas of Kampala that I would otherwise have never been exposed to. For example, I have so far held two sessions in Kisenyi, where the largest slum in Uganda is located. I have met with several groups of people during the “ghetto tours” that I have held. I always interact with the street children who live in the slum, many of whom already have drug problems at ten years old, have been abused by their parents, or who had no place to go once their parents died or were killed. One child I interviewed was fourteen years old and pregnant and sleeping outside in the ghetto, suffering from drug dependency and with no place to go. I also visited the small, windowless room where three sex workers and their three children lived, and spoke to them about their lives and their experiences with HIV/AIDS. There was one girl who I interviewed, however, whose experiences stand out the most. The following is a brief description of her experiences:
At only thirteen years old, her life is already filled with experiences that would leave anybody shaken and traumatized. She lives on the street in the slum, and cannot sleep without worrying about being raped in the night. Her worst fear, in fact, is being raped, and her worst fear has become reality on several occasions. She showed me the scars and bruises from only a couple days prior, when some men beat her because of her refusal to comply with their demands. Luckily, she is HIV negative, but she knows many people who are positive, and she told me how the virus is spread so easily in the slum. There are those in the slum who knowingly spread the virus, often due to lack of protection, lack of knowledge, rape, lack of care, or because it is necessary to make some money in whatever way is necessary.
As with many of our experiences here, it is these types of experiences that make all of our problems seem so minor in comparison.
Week 7- Waiting... for Interviews
I sat waiting in a cafeteria at a medical student dormitory for an hour before calling it a day. Every time a door would open I would turn around to look. I would sigh, as it was a worker coming in or leaving the kitchen. I had laid out all of my materials- notebook, audio recorder, consent forms, pens. I had been waiting for interview participants for my research project. I had been told that a group of five 5th-year medical students would be gathered when I got there so we could have a focus group session. I got to the medical school early and waited for my contact to pick me up. He was 5 minutes late but I wasn’t concerned because nothing here starts on time. On our walk up to the dorm he told me that he hadn’t actually spoken to any students but he was sure I could gather enough people at the dorm. Finals were starting the following week so I was doubtful that I could persuade anyone. As we walked up to the entrance of the dorm, my contact introduced me to several men that were there. Half way through my “hello, my name is” speech, my contact said he thought I would be okay so he was leaving. Feeling a bit nervous, I went on with my speech, asking if anyone would be interested in being interviewed.
No one volunteered. One guy asked me where my research office was. I explained that I was a student so I was interviewing participants in a variety of locations based on their convenience. Apparently that wasn’t a good answer. The same guy told me I should get my contact to organize people for me (I thought I had?) and come back. I told them I’d sit in the cafeteria adjacent to us if anyone would be interested in being interviewed. I thought, “So much for the focus group idea. At this point, I just need data whether in a focus group or individual interviews.” So, I sat and waited. One student who was in the group I spoke to came in to be interviewed. I got the feeling that he agreed out of pity for me. After our short interview I waited around. I texted my contact that no one else had showed up. He assured me again that people would once dinner started. Once dinner started? I felt like an ambulance chaser on the hunt for interview participants. However, I waited for another hour thinking dinner had to be soon. It was already 6pm by this point. Unfortunately, no one else came. Dinner must be served late. So, after an hour of waiting, I packed it in.
Interviewing participants has been incredibly difficult given students’ time constraints and the unreliability of people to show up. In the United States I live my life by a calendar. I try to be no less than 15 minutes early to everything and have my life color-coded by type of activity: work, personal, school, etc. Here in Uganda, things don’t work this way. Unpredicted situations always seem to arise and estimated travel times are never a reliable estimate. Plans are never confirmed more than 12 hours in advance because situations are constantly changing. This had made the process of gathering interviews difficult given our own limited time schedules. Despite being here 7 weeks now, I’ve still yet to adjust and plan for the delays.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
No one volunteered. One guy asked me where my research office was. I explained that I was a student so I was interviewing participants in a variety of locations based on their convenience. Apparently that wasn’t a good answer. The same guy told me I should get my contact to organize people for me (I thought I had?) and come back. I told them I’d sit in the cafeteria adjacent to us if anyone would be interested in being interviewed. I thought, “So much for the focus group idea. At this point, I just need data whether in a focus group or individual interviews.” So, I sat and waited. One student who was in the group I spoke to came in to be interviewed. I got the feeling that he agreed out of pity for me. After our short interview I waited around. I texted my contact that no one else had showed up. He assured me again that people would once dinner started. Once dinner started? I felt like an ambulance chaser on the hunt for interview participants. However, I waited for another hour thinking dinner had to be soon. It was already 6pm by this point. Unfortunately, no one else came. Dinner must be served late. So, after an hour of waiting, I packed it in.
Interviewing participants has been incredibly difficult given students’ time constraints and the unreliability of people to show up. In the United States I live my life by a calendar. I try to be no less than 15 minutes early to everything and have my life color-coded by type of activity: work, personal, school, etc. Here in Uganda, things don’t work this way. Unpredicted situations always seem to arise and estimated travel times are never a reliable estimate. Plans are never confirmed more than 12 hours in advance because situations are constantly changing. This had made the process of gathering interviews difficult given our own limited time schedules. Despite being here 7 weeks now, I’ve still yet to adjust and plan for the delays.
Location: Kampala, Uganda
Week 7 and Homesick
Location: Kampala
We’re back in Kampala, and I’ve been homesick…a lot. I’m really saddened by the fact that I can’t enjoy myself fully here due to my homesickness. I’ve always wanted to come to Africa, so why do I wish so much to be home? It’s not as if I’m unhappy in Uganda. I’m taking interesting classes, meeting new people, and achieving my life DREAMS through volunteering at PCA and Sanyu Babies Home. Who gets to achieve their life dreams by 20 years old?? I wish this inner conflict would go away so that I could just savor every moment, because before I know it, I will be home and depressed that I am not here. I know in my heart that being here is a supreme blessing, and as such, I will do my best to internalize that. For now, I am going to continue pushing myself- because if I don’t, I will miss out on the opportunities of a lifetime.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Week 6 - Let there be water!
Location: Ssese Island
Our trip to Ssese was definitely the highlight of my week!! Since taking a course on infectious diseases, I have been very interested in water and how essential it is in preventing or causing disease. Our wonderful leader Joel took us to the villages water source and after walking through a long stretch of field and trees, when he stopped and said "This is it" I thought he was joking. The "lake" was about 7 feet deep with about a 4 foot radius. When we were walking, everyone was stepping in water and puddles which we didn't realize lead to their water source. During the heavy rains, which we experienced there, everything is practically washed downhill into this lake. I realized that on our way to the lake, I didn't see any pit latrines which meant that everyone would go where it was convenient and unfortunately, that would end up in the water they would consume later. Before we left we were told about the poor conditions but seeing it and inadvertently contributing to it by visiting it made our presence there much more significant. It was made clear that our purpose was to bring water to this village but seeing what they had been dealing with completely changed my whole attitude and thought process. After that visit, we returned back to the site to put everything together. My eyes were glued on the engineered and I sat there and prayed to myself because it had to work. Everyone was tired and hot but after seeing there source, we were all energized and ready to finish this project which is basically an essential human right! At the end of the day when we saw water flowing, we were all so relieved and I was really proud of what we had accomplished and I hope work like this will continue in the future!
Our trip to Ssese was definitely the highlight of my week!! Since taking a course on infectious diseases, I have been very interested in water and how essential it is in preventing or causing disease. Our wonderful leader Joel took us to the villages water source and after walking through a long stretch of field and trees, when he stopped and said "This is it" I thought he was joking. The "lake" was about 7 feet deep with about a 4 foot radius. When we were walking, everyone was stepping in water and puddles which we didn't realize lead to their water source. During the heavy rains, which we experienced there, everything is practically washed downhill into this lake. I realized that on our way to the lake, I didn't see any pit latrines which meant that everyone would go where it was convenient and unfortunately, that would end up in the water they would consume later. Before we left we were told about the poor conditions but seeing it and inadvertently contributing to it by visiting it made our presence there much more significant. It was made clear that our purpose was to bring water to this village but seeing what they had been dealing with completely changed my whole attitude and thought process. After that visit, we returned back to the site to put everything together. My eyes were glued on the engineered and I sat there and prayed to myself because it had to work. Everyone was tired and hot but after seeing there source, we were all energized and ready to finish this project which is basically an essential human right! At the end of the day when we saw water flowing, we were all so relieved and I was really proud of what we had accomplished and I hope work like this will continue in the future!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Week 6 - Ssese Island Video
Ssese Island Water Project from PublicHealth Uganda on Vimeo.
Community project to expand access to clean water on Ssese Island.
Week 6 - From Rakai to Ssese -- Putting Theory into Practice
Location: Kampala
The previous week in Rakai, we were introduced to the theoretical methodology of how community health initiatives are implemented in rural areas. This week we had the opportunity to participate first-hand in the process. Our purpose -- to extend access to clean water by installing a new water pipe that would reach other parts of the community. While in theory this seemed easy enough, in actuality, we faced a number of challenges that were directly outlined in the theoretical protocol of our Rakai trip. One of the key features of this protocol was community involvement. We learned that a similar project was undertaken a while back only to be met with failure because the community was not actively participating. Either the maintenance of the water was inadequate or they refused to pay because they misunderstood the conditions of the water, in any case, the lack of community involvement crippled the project in the past. This time around, there was a large emphasis to mobilize the community in the project. During the process, there were many locals involved in digging, cutting grass and negotiating on behalf of the the water project. In fact, in areas beyond those completed by us, there was a requirement for each family to contribute labor.
Additionally we also witnessed the effects of improper community sensitization. After previously clearing the project with a woman whose land we would be digging through, we later realized that she had objections that she quite emphatically began to raise just as we were about to begin digging. Luckily, Joel, our community ambassador, had such a powerful reputation in the area with all of his previous work that the issue was eventually dropped and we were able to proceed as planned.
Aside from the logistical concerns and planning processes, I was surprised by the size of the project in terms of manual labor as well. The pipe was extended roughly a half a kilometer from the old pipe and involved many key steps including locating the old pipe, clearing tall grass, digging a three foot deep trench, untangling the pipe, laying it down, connecting the pipe to the pump and tap and finally replacing the soil to cover the new pipe. Luckily, the community was very involved in the initial digging process, which was the most physically daunting task. Ultimately the project was a success and we left with the satisfaction of knowing that we contributed to bringing a vital resource to a community previously depending on a less than adequate alternative.
The previous week in Rakai, we were introduced to the theoretical methodology of how community health initiatives are implemented in rural areas. This week we had the opportunity to participate first-hand in the process. Our purpose -- to extend access to clean water by installing a new water pipe that would reach other parts of the community. While in theory this seemed easy enough, in actuality, we faced a number of challenges that were directly outlined in the theoretical protocol of our Rakai trip. One of the key features of this protocol was community involvement. We learned that a similar project was undertaken a while back only to be met with failure because the community was not actively participating. Either the maintenance of the water was inadequate or they refused to pay because they misunderstood the conditions of the water, in any case, the lack of community involvement crippled the project in the past. This time around, there was a large emphasis to mobilize the community in the project. During the process, there were many locals involved in digging, cutting grass and negotiating on behalf of the the water project. In fact, in areas beyond those completed by us, there was a requirement for each family to contribute labor.
Additionally we also witnessed the effects of improper community sensitization. After previously clearing the project with a woman whose land we would be digging through, we later realized that she had objections that she quite emphatically began to raise just as we were about to begin digging. Luckily, Joel, our community ambassador, had such a powerful reputation in the area with all of his previous work that the issue was eventually dropped and we were able to proceed as planned.
Aside from the logistical concerns and planning processes, I was surprised by the size of the project in terms of manual labor as well. The pipe was extended roughly a half a kilometer from the old pipe and involved many key steps including locating the old pipe, clearing tall grass, digging a three foot deep trench, untangling the pipe, laying it down, connecting the pipe to the pump and tap and finally replacing the soil to cover the new pipe. Luckily, the community was very involved in the initial digging process, which was the most physically daunting task. Ultimately the project was a success and we left with the satisfaction of knowing that we contributed to bringing a vital resource to a community previously depending on a less than adequate alternative.
Week 6 - Ssese Island Interview
Ssese Island Interview from PublicHealth Uganda on Vimeo.
Interview with Robert Tumuramye the engineer for the water project.
Week 6 - The Importance of Ownership
Location: Kalangala, Ssese Islands, Uganda
After weeks of classroom learning and field observations, the group anxiously awaited the chance to participate in an actual hands-on public health-oriented project. With our trip to the Ssese Islands in Lake Victoria, we were finally presented with such an opportunity. Given the mission to help extend a waterline to an unserviced village in Uganda’s Kalangala district, we were excited to finally contribute something that was both meaningful and sustainable to our host country. Not only would we be helping to improve the overall water security of the village, we would be helping to stop the spread of waterborne diseases. Needless to say, we were ready to give it our all.
Across the board, the group seemed to be fairly disappointed at our level of involvement in the project at first. Coming in with the expectation that we would have a pivotal role in the planning and implementation of this project, we were disappointed when we arrived at the site and saw that there were only enough tools for two or three of our group members to work at a time. Even when we were given the opportunity to participate, the villagers were quick to ask to be given their hoes back so that they may continue to work on the project themselves. In some ways, this only made sense. Many, if not all, of the villagers had been engaged in agricultural work for their entire lives. They were simply more suited to handle the hoes and machetes that we were using in the project, and they were not afraid to let us know it. Even after we came to this realization, we were still frustrated. Frustrated that we had come all this way to simply watch as others did work. Frustrated that we had yet to contribute anything sustainable to the people of Uganda. However, with the words of our friend and project director, Joel, this frustration quickly eroded.
As Joel explained to us, the active participation of the Kalangala community was absolutely essential to the long-term success of this project. Though it bothered us, it was necessary for the villagers to act as the greatest contributors to this effort. Had we done everything for them, they undoubtedly would have had great difficulty in seeing their stake in the success of the project. Through contributing their sweat, time, and energy to connecting the water line to their village, the townspeople had gained ownership of the project. This ownership, Joel elaborated, would motivate the villagers to keep using this line as their primary water source and would prevent them from turning to the dirty, contaminated sources that they had previously used.
Though we were able to participate in the project more and more as time went on, we were careful to give the community a significant role in the implementation of the project at all stages. Through contributing so much to the project, the villagers have gained ownership over it, ownership that will in turn ensure the success of our efforts for years to come.
After weeks of classroom learning and field observations, the group anxiously awaited the chance to participate in an actual hands-on public health-oriented project. With our trip to the Ssese Islands in Lake Victoria, we were finally presented with such an opportunity. Given the mission to help extend a waterline to an unserviced village in Uganda’s Kalangala district, we were excited to finally contribute something that was both meaningful and sustainable to our host country. Not only would we be helping to improve the overall water security of the village, we would be helping to stop the spread of waterborne diseases. Needless to say, we were ready to give it our all.
Across the board, the group seemed to be fairly disappointed at our level of involvement in the project at first. Coming in with the expectation that we would have a pivotal role in the planning and implementation of this project, we were disappointed when we arrived at the site and saw that there were only enough tools for two or three of our group members to work at a time. Even when we were given the opportunity to participate, the villagers were quick to ask to be given their hoes back so that they may continue to work on the project themselves. In some ways, this only made sense. Many, if not all, of the villagers had been engaged in agricultural work for their entire lives. They were simply more suited to handle the hoes and machetes that we were using in the project, and they were not afraid to let us know it. Even after we came to this realization, we were still frustrated. Frustrated that we had come all this way to simply watch as others did work. Frustrated that we had yet to contribute anything sustainable to the people of Uganda. However, with the words of our friend and project director, Joel, this frustration quickly eroded.
As Joel explained to us, the active participation of the Kalangala community was absolutely essential to the long-term success of this project. Though it bothered us, it was necessary for the villagers to act as the greatest contributors to this effort. Had we done everything for them, they undoubtedly would have had great difficulty in seeing their stake in the success of the project. Through contributing their sweat, time, and energy to connecting the water line to their village, the townspeople had gained ownership of the project. This ownership, Joel elaborated, would motivate the villagers to keep using this line as their primary water source and would prevent them from turning to the dirty, contaminated sources that they had previously used.
Though we were able to participate in the project more and more as time went on, we were careful to give the community a significant role in the implementation of the project at all stages. Through contributing so much to the project, the villagers have gained ownership over it, ownership that will in turn ensure the success of our efforts for years to come.
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