29 May 2012

Today is my eleventh day in Uganda. I feel completely settled in. Although most of the customs feel foreign, I don't feel the need to constantly compare them to my own. I am not sure if I can attribute that to my better understanding of the world or of myself.

19 May 2012

I am writing from Uganda. When I wrote my bucket list last November, one of my goals was to visit Africa. Little did I ever imagine that it would be checked off six months later.

This is definitely an experience that I know is gigantic, but I also know will take a long time in recovery. Nothing that I have seen so far has shocked me. I have seen these things on television and read about them in textbooks. However, there is also a deep sense of sadness that these things do exist. It is a much different thing to decide to live a certain way and to have no choice. In a world that has so much amazing, it is incredible to see the other side of it. Yet, spirits are high and people are kind. I think that is what I will learn most, our shared ability to love and be kind to one another.

Last Day What?!

I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Not to sound cliche, but this trip went by super fast and I can't believe that it is over. I will be blogging more when I get home, some stuff I wrote during the trip and couldn't post due to internet & power issues, others will just be because I needed time with my thoughts post trip.  Anyway, I'm pretty sure I may sob uncontrollably during most of my goodbyes tonight. Oh boy.  Leaving you all with this quote for now- see ya in the good old U.S. of A. Thanks for reading during my time here, hope you keep reading when I return home.

“You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.” 


Uganda see you! You have been most excellent.

Kiddos

I've not written much about the children here despite spending the majority of my days with them. I think mostly because I cannot allow myself to look at them as victims. I know them as the kids that they are in the present. I do my best to just be present, and not think of the circumstances that brought them to this place. Every once in a while though, the kids will cry in such a way that reminds me. I remember Lynne always saying how differently children grieve, and how a scrape of a knee cry can quickly turn into a I miss my family member cry. I am pretty sure I've heard this cry now. The sound is haunting.

Lights

I have one week left before I return to the US. People from back home keep asking me what I miss most or what I can't wait to do wen I get back. And although the idea of sushi from my favorite restaurant and DVR'd Mad Men will be greatly enjoyed upon my arrival, I think what I miss the most is the convenience of power. Power is a struggle here. It goes off at some point almost every day. I've actually written this post in my notebook as there is no power. I'm not complaining that I can't blog because the lights went out. But this culture has manifested itself in the 21st century not relying on power. Electronics are put on hold (which can be kind of nice for an American with too many of them). But things are time consuming here, because you can't depend on the power being on whenever you so please. I wonder how much more developed this place would be if the only time they worried that power will be cut off is because of an unpaid bill and not just because that is the way it is.

Red dirt economics

Unless one is on the main road, most streets here look like the one below. That one is in front of our house and actually one of the best groomed. Most roads here would not be considered passable in the US, with giant holes covering every few feet of ground.

The red dirt consumes everyone here, although the natives barely notice. Taking one's shoes off at the entrance of a home is much more upheld policy than any sort of law that exists here. The dirt stains everything in sight. The soles of the foreigners' feet tell this the most, as the contrast in color reminds us that we are not from here. Somehow, by chance, we were born in a place for better or worse, we can hold our representatives accountable for their actions. If we don't want holes in our road we have the right to demand that they be fixed. Paying taxes gives us power to demand our wants and desires because we have invested in our community.

I am about the furthest person away from claiming I have a good grasp on economics. However, I do understand the idea that free markets work themselves out and that people's needs will be inevitably met. But as I walk these uneven, rocky, red dirt roads every day, stepping in pools of water and trash because there are no drains or sewage or sanitation, I'm not entirely sure that they do.

Where did June go?

I haven't felt particularly inspired to write about Uganda. I feel like I should be writing something profound about this place; how the children have moved me, how poverty cripples infrastructure, how inspired I feel by the people I've met, and other things of that nature. And although all of these things are true, I have no desire to write about them. I think I have had no time nor need to process my experiences yet and that is why I can't really write. I am just really content living them.

But because I am an avid blog reader, I recognize the ridiculousness that is to have a blog and not update it. Therefore, I will catch you all up on some things from the last few weeks.

I visited the Nile River. You know when denial is not just a river in Egypt? Turns out it isn't just a river in Uganda, either. It starts here and we took a little boat and got to go around it for a little while. Very cool!

In children news, I've made no attempt to steal any. Most of the children here are in boarding school, so we spend most of our time with the youngest kids who are here. They are full of happiness and joy despite coming from awful circumstances. Many of them were abandoned at BKU from families who could not care for them for some reason. Many are orphans from HIV/AIDS or from the war. Most have seen and experienced things that no one should. I can't imagine watching my parents be murdered or surviving on the streets with my siblings begging for food. Although these are facts that one does not think about all of the time, every once in a while you hear more details of a kid's story and it takes you down. In the land of I know the importance of grief counseling, I wish I could talk to them more about that stuff. But most of the kids here are more concerned with being swung around and looking at videos on volunteers' computers, and I can't blame them for that.