Reflections on a Week in Uganda
Right now I’m resting between flights in Istanbul. I definitely don’t recommend a flying schedule where you are on planes two nights in a row, changing time-zones – a bit gruelling! However, it had to be done. I’ll soon be in Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan and will have a day of rest before beginning work there.
The last 6 days, before the flights from Uganda, I spent time in the cities of Entebbe and Kampala and several villages within driving distance of Kampala. In Kampala, the time was spent meeting people and working with them on the proposal for the introduction of the ‘Improving Education Quality” app and the potential development of school and community services to support those who have been traumatized.
The parts of Uganda which I could visit are beautifully green, with lush vegetation and deep, red soil, the dust of which makes all roads and paths a light red colour. If you’ve been to Prince Edward Island, Canada, the soil is like that – delicious potatoes are also grown in Uganda! The birds are another highlight. Even in the cities, particularly in the early morning, you are surrounded by bird-song, and you can observe beautiful, deep coloured birds of many kinds. Even Ugandan vultures display multi-coloured beauty with a wingspan of about the size of a bald eagle. Some birds, like the Canadian blue jay are a deep, rich blue and stunningly beautiful. Next time I’ll try to get some pictures of these birds.
I was able to visit the church-school compound where the uprising against Edi Amin began, being shown around by the current pastor. There has been almost no restoration done since the war, with the buildings still full of bullet holes, or partially destroyed. I wonder where is the larger church in supporting these fellow believers?
A few days ago, in some villages within an hour’s drive of Kampala, a 20-minute squall of rain and incredible wind wiped out the crops of several villages. A trip was arranged by our patron to these villages to provide them with some minimal supplies – bean seeds (a staple) and flour. I was asked to accompany the contingent which included elected community, parish and district representatives as they went to these villages. It was an amazing, enlightening and educational experience. In each village, they shared what had happened during that brief time period. They had not experienced such a storm in their life-times – crops wiped out, some brick homes destroyed and livestock swept away!
Each village left me with a different impression – one was very small, and extremely poor with villagers having only one change of clothes each; a bigger one by the highway seemed more wealthy, but had evident poverty and drunkenness; another one was 2/3 woman and 1/3 men. In all the villages the people were very friendly and welcoming. At each stop, the ‘giving’ was accompanied by speeches by politicians, and a ceremony of thanks by the villagers. Here’s a couple of stories —
In the smallest village all sat on the grass except for the guests and village representatives who were given plastic chairs. The elder of the village, a Hadj (He had completed a pilgrimage to Mecca), had a great sense of humour and said to me that I was now his honorary nephew, since his daughter had married a white man (Mazuumo), so we were now related! In this same village, there was an elderly man who was extremely friendly, putting his hand in mine, arm around me, and showing a beaming smile. I learned later that I was the first white man he had ever seen, and he was ‘very honoured’ to have met me. [It’s strange to still be a part of the ‘privileged class – a remnant of colonialism.]
At another village, the politician asked the many women there, all sitting on the grass with their many children, some of whom were running around, others breast-feeding, “Where are all the men?” They laughed and said, “This is it; each one of these (pointing to the men sitting on chairs on one side of the clearing), has at least three wives!” [I had learned in the larger community gathering the day before that the men felt it their ‘duty’ to replace the children lost during the war; most families with many children were left with none or only one or two by the war – they seemed to be doing a good job of this!]
I found the people very ‘physical’ in their behavior, touching, hugging, and having a unique handshake, which I learned quickly. Even though extremely poor, externally, they gave the impression of being happy and full of humour. At each village they broke into laughter when I greeted them in Lugandan, saying “Mulemootiaw”. They asked me to repeat it, since they seemed to get a kick out of my poor efforts!
On the last day, I was invited to a home in Kampala – I have only seen similar luxury while we were in Kuwait and Qatar with members of the Royal family. We ate outside by their swimming pool, with the food being prepared by servants – wonderful fruits and salads, and delicious goat and chicken. In their driveway was a gold Lambourgini, a gold Hummer, a BMW Mini, and other more ‘normal’ trucks and cars. The contrast to the poverty in the villages was astounding.
Although I was only there 6 days, it seemed much longer due to the intensity and the establishment of relationships with those I potentially will be working with.
