Photos To Come (July 20th)

Hi All,

I've just posted ~8 articles but unfortunately (again) having trouble uploading photos. I have a 5 hour stopover in Nairobi tomorrow so might try from the airport there, otherwise when I get home I will load them all on so you can have a squiz.

Looking forward to a relaxing weekend in Mauritius.
Ciao for now,
Amy

Goodbyes to Friends (20th July)

One of the hardest things about coming back here, is having to say my goodbyes again so soon. I think I cried for the last month I was in Uganda before, as it took me that long to say goodbye to everyone. This time, I have only been here for a month, so it has been like saying hi and bye in one breath.

Last night I said my goodbyes to a group of my former colleagues. We managed to all get together and have an evening of reminiscing, catching up and plenty of laughs. It was very pleasing to hear the progress some of them have made in their projects and although some of them have now left the organisation, the skills they learnt are being put to use in their other work. I have often questioned whether my year here had made any impact. Last night, I felt like it had.

As I prepare to leave tomorrow, I have mixed feelings. I feel way more contented with myself now – like I have finished this chapter and now (finally) am ready to move on fully to other things. But I am also sad that I have not been able to see some of the people I really wanted to catch up with. One of those people is Sulaina, a friend I used to play netball with. Her phone is not connected anymore and I have been unable to trace her. Making this even sadder is that I never got to say goodbye to her the first time as she was hit by a car on her way to come to the airport with me. Another is one of my father figures here. I’m not sure if I’m able to say his name as he is in government (and there are funny laws about that), but he is currently in Juba for the peace talks and so isn’t around. At least I have been able to speak to him on phone but it is one of my regrets that I haven’t been able to see him.

I am, however, looking forward to going home. I can’t wait to see my family and getting back into my work. Although I learnt many a lesson during my 12 months here and some of my experiences made it hard for me to settle in at home, I think I have finally learnt to combine my two worlds – to use the angst I feel at my own “white privilege” in a positive way – and rather than be consumed by guilt, to use that angst to change the things and help the people around me.

Signing off from the Pearl of Africa,
Aussie Amy

Amnesty (African reconciliation) versus the International Criminal Court (Western justice) (19th July)

There are some things about different cultures that will always be difficult to understand for those on the outside. People here look at me with disgust when I tell them I like eating seafood but they will quite happily chew on termites and grasshoppers!?!

While I may be able to carry a jerry-can on my head, to use local body language and lose some of my mzungu ways while I am here – there is one thing I find really hard to understand. That is, the wish of the people in northern Uganda to have Joseph Kony, the leader of the rebellion that has caused them 20 years of torture, to be offered complete Amnesty.

It is a topic that is hot at the moment with the current peace process. Kony and 4 of his top commanders were some of the first people to have warrants issued against them for war crimes by the International Criminal Court. The current talks are being mediated by the southern Sudanese government, who have put them self at risk of international retribution. Under the Rome Statute, signatory countries (which include Uganda, Sudan and I think Congo) are bound to arrest these people so they can be tried in The Hague. The arrest warrants were not a popular move for many Acholi people (people from the north) because they felt it would mean that Kony would never “come out of the bush”. Some members of the Acholi Religious Leaders Peace Initiative even travelled to The Hague, offering themselves for arrest instead of Kony.

While I agree with the argument that some members of the UPDF (Ugandan Army) should also have been charged under the Rome Statute, I find it really difficult to understand how people who have been victims in the war could want total Amnesty. While I think Amnesty is definitely necessary for the children who have been abducted, I don’t think it should apply to the top commanders who joined voluntarily.

The questions I have been asking everyone:
“Why do you want Amnesty for Kony?”
“How could he just walk into the community after all he has done?”
“Don’t you think that he is only now talking about Amnesty because he is close to being defeated? The Amnesty applied to him for years before and he never accepted.”
“What about your relatives who have been killed by the rebels and your nieces and nephews who were abducted and the people who have been mutilated. How can you forgive that?”

I have been firing these questions to many different people. While I accept their reasoning of their preference for traditional justice mechanisms, I still find it difficult to understand. Some don’t even mention these traditional practices – they just want Kony to come out of the bush so that peace can prevail. But peace without justice?? That is what doesn’t sit so right with me. I have also felt the repercussions of such a system in Rwanda, where people who participated in the genocide returned to living side by side to the families of victims. While there may be “peace” now in Rwanda, the feeling I got when I visited there was rather eerie, like there was a ton of tension building up underneath a “peaceful” exterior. People would not use the “H” or “T” words (Hutu or Tutsi), as it seemed they did not want to mention or acknowledge the gross ethnic based massacres that had occurred.

I’ve used these arguments when talking with people here. I have bantered back and forth, trying to understand the justification.

Finally, Shanti, my “brother in law” and a child rights advocate said to me,
“Amy, do you know why you don’t understand? Because you’re not from here”.

My Favourite Place in Uganda plus True Friendship (18th July)

Today was a very very good day. As you could probably tell from my entry a few days ago, I’ve been feeling a little down and discontented with my trip here. But today made my whole trip seem worthwhile.

Yesterday we travelled to the east, one of my favourite parts of the country. When I lived in Uganda, I worked on a project here and travelled here quite regularly. We (Mum and I) arrived in Mbale, the major town in the evening and came to the motel that I always stayed at. Although the price had gone up a whopping 50%, the 35 USD a night for a twin room with bathroom, tv and the biggest breakfast in all of Uganda was worth it but the bonus is the staff all remembered me and rushed to me with hugs and “welcome to your home away from home”. To add to the excitement, I discovered that they’d painted the Australian flag in their patio area that has many other flags from around the world (on my last visit I had brought them the paint as I always would complain that my flag was missing). It was a very nice welcome.

This morning we drove through Sironko (the district where my project was based) and up the mountain to my favourite place in Uganda – Sipi Falls. It has changed a lot since I left, with new campsites and hotels, plus many more tourists (in the 7 times I had been here before I had never seen any other groups of tourists). But the falls are still as beautiful as ever and we went to the most magical place I’ve ever been – a cave behind the waterfall. The visit brought back lots of good memories of times I visited before, including the time Cheryl, Russ and I camped in the cave, trekked up the mountain and abseiled beside the 97m main waterfall. I also bumped into Fred, the guide who had trekked with us on my first proper trip there and he remembered me. The views were amazing and the beauty totally reinvigorated my spirits.

The day got even better when we travelled back down to Sironko to meet with one of my closest friends here, Lillian. Lillian was the lady I supported as she coordinated the Sironko project and is one of the most selfless people I know and a constant inspiration to me. We went to visit her at her school (she is a teacher) and found that they had a whole program prepared for us, with singing, speeches and a football game. The contact with the kids further lifted my spirits and afterwards we went with Lillian to visit some of her relatives and then back to her place for a cup of tea. Spending time talking with Lillian completed the wonderful day. She recently travelled to Morocco to attend a conference on gender equity in sport and together we brainstormed some ideas on how she could implement some initiatives in Sironko. She kept expressing her gratitude for all I had done for her while I was in Uganda, while I tried to explain that I was the one who was grateful to her.

While the above may sound simple enough, when I left Lillian’s place I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Today made this whole trip. Again, the combination of magical scenery and the friendliness of people here had lifted my spirits. It was also nice to again experience true friendship, as this trip has helped me decipher who my true friends are and those who just sees a mzungu and sees dollar sign. Lillian is one such true friend. Her friendship is not forced and it is unconditional – and it is mutual.

A night of Harmony, Justice and Honest(y) (17th July)

Last night Mum and I were invited to have dinner at my friend Honest’s place. I first met Honest when she volunteered with our organisation for the 2003 measles campaign and our friendship grew from there. I must admit her name amused me at first, but now seems so normal. However, I had to swallow my giggles when I met two of her brothers – Justice and Harmony.

We had expected to reach Kampala (from Murchison) at around 3pm, but somehow the 220 km from Masindi town (outside the national park) took us 4 hours (due to taking a wrong route that had roadworks) and we didn’t arrive in Kampala until ~6pm. We quickly rushed to Honest’s – as they had been waiting since 3pm for us and she had prepared a huge meal of local food – including one of my favourites – Matooke (mushed plantain) and G-nut (peanut) sauce.

Although Justice was determined to tell us repetitively of all the family’s problems (which granted are serious) I was reminded of the admiration I have for Honest. She had never told me of any of these problems and she is one of those people who always has a smile on her face and exudes happiness. While she acknowledged the problems that Justice was talking about, she also pointed out other people in worse situations – like the abandoned babies at Mulago Hospital she had shown us during a tour when she was a nursing student there. She is such a special person and is certainly one of my role models. I hope I never forget her eternal optimism.

Somehow I was having a couple of terrible, no good, very bad days… (15th July)

The last few days have been “somehow” and haven’t been my favourite days in Uganda. I have been very disappointed with a couple of things here, the major thing being the work I was asked to prepare for and present hasn’t happened. To be honest, I’m not sure of the exact reasons but think it was due to poor organisational skills and a lack of regard for the effort I had gone to. I wouldn’t have minded so much if there were other things happening but Mum and I have spent more time twiddling our thumbs than spending time constructively.

Our stress levels blew up yesterday on our way to Murchison Falls National Park, where we had arranged to take our host family as a ‘thank you for having us’, as although the kids have seen kangaroos in the wild in Australia, they had never seen elephants, hippos, etc in the wild in Uganda. I don’t want to bore you with details of a petty argument, but it evolved because we found out we weren’t going to reach the park until late at night, not a good idea when there are still a few rebels around and the British owner of the place we were staying had been killed ~12 months ago, when he had been out on the road at night time. Such a risk may have been justified if there was a good reason, but instead we spent the morning again sitting around and later ended up sitting by the road in a remote town for 2 hours after our host stormed off. We certainly provided a spectacle for the locals and somehow attracted the local “crazy man” who stood staring at us for the 2 hours.

So it was a tense start to our “fun” weekend away and I was having a few “I shouldn’t have come” thoughts. But during the weekend I was reminded of what I love about Uganda:

The first thing was the natural beauty of this country. I had never been to Murchison Falls NP before and was taken aback by its beauty. We went on a fantastic game drive and saw hippos, elephants, giraffe, hyena, warthogs, monkeys, crocs, different types of antelope and bucks plus even saw a lion feeding on a small animal. We also did a boat cruise to the bottom of the fall and again saw lots of wildlife. The kids were very excited by all the animals, especially 10 year old Daniel, who has an amazing thirst for and retention of information.

The second thing I was reminded of, was the friendliness of the Ugandan people. Mum and I were sitting alone at dinner (we had been ditched by our “family”, so were feeling a bit down) when a young Ugandan woman, Olivia and her 18 month old son Dexter came and joined us. The conversation flowed easily and we were soon joined by Olivia’s husband, Peter. They were lovely people, very natural and friendly and Dexter was gorgeous. It’s difficult to describe but it was one of the best nights I’ve had on this trip. I don’t know if I could talk so easily with a couple of complete strangers back home. They were an inspiring couple too – Peter works on the Refugee Law Project at Makerere University (main uni in Uganda) and Olivia for a paediatric neurosurgery hospital. After having a couple of bad Ugandan days, it certainly lifted my spirits. Peter and Olivia would have had no idea, but our brief encounter with them renewed my faith in the people of Uganda and reminded me of the many positive experiences I have had here.

Have you ever met a killer? (14th July)

When I do talks about northern Uganda at home, I often get asked this type of question. High school students in particular, want to know what a rebel looks like, was I scared when I saw one, etc etc. The truth is, I have met lots of former rebels who have killed people. Most of these have been children who have escaped or been rescued – who were abducted and forced to kill. Their stories are horrific and caused me to have nightmares for a long time, nightmares that resurface every so often. For example, I have met a young man who was forced to eat the brains of a man and drink the blood of the man’s wife. And I have hugged a girl who had been forced to cook another child (who had tried to escape) in a pot and eat her. The stories of such children are endless and represent the failure of the world to protect those who are most vulnerable.

While most of the stories I have heard are of children who have just escaped and are obviously still traumatised, I still get shocked when I discover “normal” children in the community who have spent “time in the bush”. They appear to be normal, happy children but I am sure their external resilience hides extreme internal trauma. I think about 3 of the 18 children who stay with Mummy and Daddy, have spent time “in the bush”. While I have never brought up the subject with them, I have witnessed some of the ripple effects their abduction has caused. For example, trying to re-enter school after being abducted at a young age can mean joining a class with children 8 years your junior, plus years of torture and trauma can lead to learning difficulties and extreme frustration – “For me, my brain does not work properly…”

The other day, though, for the first time, I met someone who had been ‘high up’ in the rebels. Although his story has been well documented, I still don’t feel it is right to write his name on here. This young man was the commander who led the (relatively) famous ‘Aboke Girls’ abduction, in which ~129 girls were abducted from a boarding school and many were released after a nun from the school chased after the rebels and demanded the release of all the girls. I have a copy of the book at home (if anyone wants to borrow) and it provides a number of voices during and after the abduction that provide a good insight into the conflict. Again, I didn’t talk to this young man about his time in the bush and can only imagine the number of abductions and killings he was involved in.

Instead, we talked about what he is doing now. He is now getting involved in different initiatives to help children in northern Uganda. And he is currently in Nairobi providing his input as a voice for the youth. The people like this young man are the future of northern Uganda. Northern Uganda needs more people like him. He did not choose to join the rebels, nor did he have much power over what he did when he was with them. But he has chosen what he will do with his life now.

Night Commuters (14th July)

The night commuters are still here. While their number may have decreased, there are still thousands in Gulu and Kitgum, plus the security in Pader is still bad and numbers are even higher there. While the total number may have decreased from the 45 000 children it has been at peak, from people I have spoken to I would have a rough guess that the number is still around 20 000. That is 20 000 children too many. 20 000 children walking into the urban centres each night for fear of abduction. Walking for their lives. Even if it was 200 it would be 200 too many.

Some children are still commuting from areas that at the moment are considered “safe”. When I asked them why, many said there is no longer room at their homes for them but most also said they were still scared. They have thought they have been safe before and the rebels have reentered their villages and again started attacking. It is certainly a risk that I would not be willing to take.

Some of you, I hope, have been reading some of my entries and wondering what you can do about the situation in northern Uganda. Firstly, there is a petition you can sign at www.guluwalk.com/sign, plus on October 21st this year the second GuluWalk Day will be held around the world. Last years GuluWalk saw thousands of people in over 40 cities walk for the children in northern Uganda and I believe that the awareness raised through this and other initiatives is a major reason I am witnessing the improvements I am seeing. This year over 100 cities have signed up. I will be organising the walk in Perth and those from other states and countries can check the website to find out about walks in your area. Please join me in this initiative to help bring a normal life to the children here. Even if a peace deal is reached under the current peace talks, it will still be a long time before things will go back to “normal”. These children don’t even know what normal is. They have been displaced from their home villages and for years have walked each night to the towns just to stay alive.

While it may sound removed to your own life at home and just one of those many crises all around the world, I ask you to imagine if you had to send your own son/daughter/grandchild/sister/brother/etc to walk into the city each night, even though the risks (eg rape, HIV/AIDS infection) were high, but not as high as the risk if they were abducted from your home – where they would be tortured and trained to be killers. For many of us it is difficult to fathom. Believe me, the parents here care just as much for their kids as parents do at home.

GUSCO and Lacor (13th July)

Just a quick entry to draw your attention to two amazing organisations operating in Gulu that I visited today.

The first is GUSCO (Gulu Save the Children Organisation) which is a reception centre for former child combatants. While the number of children in the centre had significantly decreased from when I was here last, there were still about 35 kids there. I was shocked by how young most of them were – many had been born in captivity. More info is available on their website - www.gusco.org.

The second is Lacor Hospital. My first visit to Lacor in August 2003 had been heartbreaking. The beds were filled with war casualties – babies with bullet wounds, young mothers who had been paralysed by bullets, boys with amputated limbs, etc etc. This time I only found one bullet wound – a soldier had been shot in an accident. I just hope the improvement stays that way.

My First Tears (This Time) in Uganda (12th July)

For someone who contributed significantly to the water levels of the Nile when I lived here, particularly when in the north, I have been surprised by my own lack of tears this time. I think it is due to a combination of knowing what to expect, plus my surprise at the improvements in the security situation that have kept my eyes dry.

This evening, though, I shed my first tears.

We arrived back in Gulu at around 6:30pm and took Mummy Gulu home to their village (she had been in Kampala to help care for Aber). Everyone was very excited to see my Mum (I tell you what – she steals my thunder everywhere we go), especially Daddy Gulu - who I think would rather fancy having a mzungu as another wife. :)

A few minutes after our arrival, a tall, confident looking girl, wearing what appeared to be her best clothes, arrived in the compound and came over to greet me. It was my sponsor child, Milly.

Although Milly was a member of the local dancing group I used to practice with, I had never really spoken to her and did not know who she was. I must admit I was a little dubious when I first read Milly’s profile and wondered why she had been selected for me to sponsor. She was neither a former child soldier nor living in an IDP camp or an orphan or (even) a night commuter.

However, she invited me to her house (which was only 100m from Mummy and Daddy’s) and as Mum and I entered and sat there, the justification of her sponsorship was immediately evident. The family was extremely poor and Milly is 1 of 7 children. The family only has one small hut, which is their kitchen, sitting room and bedroom. I have no idea how they all fit in there to sleep. Like almost everyone in Gulu, they have land in their home village, but have been displaced and are struggling to survive. There is no way they would have been able to send Milly to school, and at 17, she has only now been able to start her first year of secondary school.

The extreme level of poverty I was witnessing started to make the tears gather, but it was the actions of her parents that brought on the flood (although I managed to hold myself together until we left their house). We sat and talked for a while – Milly’s Dad’s English was fairly good and my Lwo has improved a bit, so we were able to keep the conversation going. And then suddenly, sodas and biscuits were brought to a table in front of us. It is a Ugandan custom that I have never grown accustomed to – where a soda is brought for you as a sign of appreciation and you have to drink it while your hosts watch you, unable to afford to buy themselves a soda. Not only one, but two sodas each were brought for Mum and I, plus two packets of biscuits. We politely declined the second soda and shared one packet of biscuits, hoping that the family could enjoy them- but instead they sent them home with us. The generosity of these people – who literally have next to nothing, is what brought on the tears. Their gratitude was overwhelming and I only hope that my small contribution will make some difference in the life of Milly and of her parents.

Aussie Amy’s Top Travel Tips for Uganda (July 12th)

1. Make a list of what you plan to do in your four week stay, then cut this list in half.
2. Always carry ‘TP’ (toilet paper) with you in your bag
3. Trips “up country” will depart at least 2 days later than planned, but you won’t be able to use the interim days effectively, as you are still under the impression you are leaving that day
4. Research prices for ‘special’ (taxi) and taxi (bus) trips first, as mzungu inflation will be added to the correct fair
5. “There’s a snake in the garden” will not mean there’s a huge “aussie-type” snake, but rather the largest worm you’ve ever seen.
6. Treating yourself to a Cadbury’s chocolate from the local supermarket will elicit a nasty surprise, as it does not taste at all like it does at home.
7. Leaving your purse in a taxi is not the best idea, but if you do, leave it in a place where the taxi driver will not see it, as it will then be recovered when he returns to his stage.
8. There is no such thing as eating too many mangoes or pineapples, as there is so many that they rot if not eaten.
9. Beans, beans, they’re good for your heart…
10. “Mzungu, how are you?” will lose it’s novelty after the 1000th time, despite the kids still remaining so cute. The cuteness of the kids starts to wear off though when it’s accompanied by “Mzungu, give me my money!”
11. When taking a taxi, make sure you know where you are going, as even though the driver will tell you he knows where it is, he will not.
12. No matter how pleased people are to see you, they will be even more pleased to see your Mum, as her age will demand more respect
13. Translate all appointments into African time: 10am = 2pm, afternoon = evening and today=tomorrow.
14. Being laid back certainly has it’s advantages, which is recognized by your Ugandan friends who tell you that “you are not an ordinary mzungu” but this can have its disadvantages when you are trying to get things done – “there’s no hurry in Africa!”.

Aber (July 11th)

Aber (pronounced a-bear) is an Acholi name which means beautiful and is the very fitting name of one of my Ugandan nieces, the three year old daughter of Jolly's brother.

In a very unfortunate accident on Saturday, Aber tipped a boiling pot of rice over herself, burning her stomach, back and parts of her limbs. Thankfully, most of the burns are first degree - although some parts are third degree.

I just ask you to please remember this brave little girl in your thoughts as she recovers in hospital.

Returning Home and the Shocking Reality (July 7th)

In the past when I stayed in the village, after supper each night, Daddy Gulu would tell me stories from his past. From someone who has cheated death on many occasions, dating back to Idi Amin’s time, I would listen in silent awe to these stories. The stories, however, that would most sadden me, were those from before the war. Daddy’s eyes would moisten ever so slightly as he would describe to me his home village, the one they had to flee. He would talk about the vast amount of land they had, how his children could swim in the nearby river – which also offered plentiful fish, plus the amount of livestock and crops they had left behind. Many people in Acholiland can not remember peace. And to hear the stories of someone who could, would break my heart, contemplating a livelihood lost.

Yesterday, for the first time, I went to visit their home. It was not a journey I would have contemplated two years ago while I was here, particularly without an armed convoy, but yesterday we drove the 70 or so kilometers from town, to Awere, the true home of my Ugandan family.

The drive out was quite surreal, as they pointed out the hotspots along the road – e.g., “This is where most of the big ambushes occurred”, “that is the hill where Kony (LRA leader) was based for a long time”, etc. I also saw the forest where Alice Lakwena, one of the original leaders of the northern rebellion was stationed for a long time. And as we got closer to my family’s home, I saw places from Kony’s childhood – where he lived, where he was an altarboy and where he went to school. I also saw the huge boulder, from which he disappeared up to and reportedly received the “Lakwena” spirit. These are all places I have read and heard a lot about, but to actually see them was fairly eerie.

I was high on adrenaline on the way out, from a combination of fear and excitement. There were very few other cars on the road and I think I only saw about 8 in total on the way there and back. Most of these were “pick ups”, with 20 or so Internally Displaced People (IDPs) being ferried from the camps to town, with a couple of armed soldiers sitting in front. I was also witnessing so many signs of peace that I couldn’t believe – smaller IDP camps were being built closer to peoples homes, children were walking around and people had resettled in a few areas plus in some areas people were planting crops, once again being able to access their land.

As we reached “home”, however, the reality of the conflict hit me hard. As Daddy showed me where their land was, and described what had once been there, I had to hold back my tears. It was pouring with rain, so we couldn’t walk onto the land – plus the army have camped on some of it and probably wouldn’t have allowed us. So we drove up a little further to the local market that was adjoined to an IDP camp. People started squealing with excitement as they recognized Mummy and Daddy, and most couldn’t believe they were looking at Jolly – who they had last seen 20 years ago as an 18 year old girl. The rain was still bucketing down, but we started walking through the IDP camp, slipping on the mud, as they looked for relatives, neighbours and friends. The conditions of the camp was very poor and I can only imagine how hard it must have been for Mummy, Daddy and Jolly to witness people they know and care about, living like that, so close to the vast openness of their homes.

My optimism from the previous day was quickly dissipated. While people are living in the camps, the problems of the north are far from over. My conscience would not let me take close photos of the camp, as it did not seem correct to document peoples suffering so obtrusively. I ask you to just imagine the worst possible living conditions you can – that is what I saw, that is how people are living, and that is another major factor why people are dying (the rate of death in northern Uganda is reportedly 3 times that of Iraq).

I am now in Kampala for the weekend as my Mum arrived today (yay!). Heading back to Gulu on Monday or Tuesday. Hope to post more from there.

Hope all's well,
Amy

PS. For those interested, some quick IDP facts from northern Uganda...
- I have read different estimates of numbers but they range from 1.6 -2 million people in northern Uganda are displaced by the war (this is about 90% of the population)
- Essentially they are like refugee camps, but as the people haven't crossed an international border, they do not receive 'refugee' status, and thus do not fall under the protection of the UN High Commission for Refugees
- Many people were forced to move to the camps due to a government order in 2002 in which they were given 48 hours to leave their land, without any provisions for relocation. People left land, crops and livestock behind and only brought with them what they could carry on their heads.
- The camps have been sites of gross human rights violations, including massacres by the LRA (rebels) and human rights violations by the UPDF (Ugandan army)
- Because the huts have been built so close together, fires have destroyed many homes, as if the grass thatched roof of one hut catches on fire, it quickly jumps to neighbouring huts
- People from the camps have strict curfews, which if they break, they are suspected of being rebels
- In short, it is a living nightmare.

Some photos (not so clear due to the rain and taking most of them from the roadside)















The Home of My Ugandan Family, identified by the trees that once surrounded their house.















The boulder on the right hand side, behind the trees, is where Kony received his spirits



(more photos to come - again having trouble uploading)

Is Peace Coming to Northern Uganda? (July 5th)

I must admit I was a little tense when we started the drive to Gulu in northern Uganda yesterday. Having been gone a while, I am completely out of date with the security situation and the Kampala-Gulu road has experienced a number of ambushes in its time. After being assured the road had been completely safe since I left, we set off – myself, Jolly, Mummy, Daddy, Adong, Achen and Opio in a 5 seater sedan.

The journey took an interesting start when we stopped at the bank in town and a “crazy man” started abusing us. He was yelling, “All Acholis are rebels! You are all killers!” etc, etc (Acholi is the tribe from the north where “my family” are from). Mummy, Daddy and Jolly, three of the most stoic people I know, just ignored him. But I was a little shaken. Jolly explained to me that “this is how people down here (in the capital) think. It’s only because this man is mentally disturbed that he is brave enough to say anything”.

Then, about an hour or two out of Kampala, while passing through a small town, we noticed a lot of people had gathered on the roadside and were watching a commotion that was happening ahead. As we got closer, we noticed 2 packs of police, with guns out, storming into two different shops – obviously looking for someone. It was really scary to drive through, and unfortunately it was an area of a lot of speedbumps and potholes so we couldn’t get through quickly. Just before we left the commotion, I noticed a big fire. It was a human burning. According to a tiny article in the paper, a mob had lynched a suspected murderer. Thankfully I couldn’t see the body but as you can imagine, it was more than a little unnerving.

In my past trips to northern Uganda, in 2003 and 2004, crossing the Nile at Karuma Falls was always the place where my heart would enter my mouth, as the road block and heavy army presence would signify that we were entering the “war zone” and were now in the conflict area. This time, we crossed the Nile without a roadblock in sight, a huge sign that changes had occurred since I was last here. “See!” I was told. “I told you northern Uganda is much more peaceful now”.

I was so glad to arrive back in Gulu. My past experiences in Gulu stripped away many of my naiveties and it was here that I first heard gunshots, first met children who had been child soldiers and brainwashed to be killers, where I first experienced the phenomena of night commuters – thousands of children streaming into the city centre to sleep each night in order to avoid abduction, and where I heard countless personal stories of rape, mutilation and massacre. But it is also the place where I first lived in a village, carried water in a jerry can on my head, learned to dance traditional dances, bathed under the stars in a small mud square and slept under a grass thatched roof in a mud hut. And it is here that I gained my Ugandan family.

It was dark when we arrived in the village and so it was hard for me to identify the children as they came to greet me, especially since many of them had grown a lot. It was lovely to see them all and although the village has changed a lot, it somehow felt like a homecoming. Unfortunately for me though, there are now so many children staying with Mummy and Daddy that there is no longer room for me to stay with them. I think I counted 18 children – about 5 of whom are grandchildren, 8 are nieces/nephews and 5 are children who are not related, that they have taken in. All of these children have been orphaned because of the war – either their parents were killed by the rebels or were victims of HIV/AIDS.

When we drove into town last night, I braced myself for the images which first greeted me on my first night in Gulu in August 2003. On that night, the streets were lined with children flocking into town, children were sleeping on the verandahs and in schools, and were crammed under any available light in order to do their homework. Although during my visits in 2004, the children had been moved off the verandahs and into shelters, a number of times I was there, the shelters were too full and children were again outside, many without blankets. I could never get used to those images – children walking for hours by themselves, sleeping on the floor and returning to their villages each morning – just to stay alive.

Last night, however, I experienced a very different scene. Although there were some unaccompanied children hanging around, the number was about 1% of what I remember. And people were moving both ways – towards town and away – into their villages. And there was music and discos happening. I couldn’t contain my surprise and excitement. Was I witnessing peace?

True peace, is of course, not yet here. The neighbouring district of Pader is still experiencing attacks by the rebels. And a peace agreement has not yet been reached. But fresh talks are (hopefully) about to start in southern Sudan between the LRA rebels and the Ugandan government. Personally, my hopes are high that the war will end soon. But they have been high before. And there is still a large debate about whether Kony (the leader of the LRA) will be given Amnesty or if his warrant under the International Criminal Court will be upheld. I can only hope that the steps towards peace will progress.
20 years of conflict is long enough.

Photos (July 3rd)

Hi All,
I'm having a few problems posting my photos so will add them to the blogs I've just posted when I return from Gulu later in the week (heading there in about an hour).
Ciao,
Amy

My Ugandan Birthday (July 3rd)

Yesterday was my birthday and as birthdays are not really a big deal here, I had just expected to have a relaxing Sunday with my Ugandan family and enjoy the sunshine that I never get on birthdays at home. So, I was a little surprised when Emmy announced he was going to take me to visit his brother, as watching Die Hard in his brother’s house was not really my idea of an ideal birthday, but figured it was culturally appropriate to visit his brother’s house at some stage during my visit and yesterday was as good a day as any.

We arrived back at the house at 6pm and as I got out of the car I noticed a lot of people sitting out the back of the house, and then suddenly out of the hedges jumped Jolly, Peter, Honest and Alice singing me happy birthday. Mummy and Daddy rushed to me, dressed very nicely, with Mummy in a beautiful gomezi (traditional dress), and led me to the party area, which was set up with chairs, decorated tables, flowers, etc. They had prepared a huge feast, even buying and slaughtering chickens for me. It was also a joint party for Mummy and Daddy to show their appreciation to the choir members who had recently travelled to Gulu for the memorial service of Christine, their daughter.

It was a wonderful party that included a couple of party games, speeches, yummy cake and dancing. I was really touched by their generosity and the effort they had gone to. It was a magical moment and a lot of fun.

Here are some pictures…















Sitting at the head table next to Mummy and Daddy
















Being fed birthday cake by Peter, Alice and Honest















Dancing

A Castle in the Sky… (July 1st)

What is your castle in the sky? That thing you hope and wish for that always seems a little out of reach. I can only imagine what that castle is for 8 or 9 year old Adong (we don’t know her birthday or age) who I met yesterday and who is staying with us over the weekend.

I arrived home last night after picking up Melissa, an American friend of Jolly’s from the airport, to discover that although I had not yet gone to Gulu, Gulu had somehow come to me. Mummy and Daddy Gulu, my Ugandan parents, had come back from the burial with Jolly and Emmy and it was such a surprise and joy to see them. With them, they had brought Adong and her 2 year old twin siblings – Achen and Opio, who Melissa has been supporting and who are now living with Mummy and Daddy.

The story of how Melissa had found Adong, Achen and Opio broke my heart. Their mother recently passed away from HIV/AIDS and while their mother was sick, Adong was heading the household. The state Melissa found them in was shocking and they were extremely malnourished. For the full story, you can read Melissa’s blog at http://www.myjourneytogulu.com/.

The twins are very cute and quite talkative, a big improvement due to lots of TLC. They are also very affectionate and love being cuddled. Adong, however, seemed quite reserved and was staying in the background.

It was the first time the children had been to Kampala and so Melissa wanted to do something nice with them and I gladly joined her. We took them to Garden City, a big shopping centre in Kampala that has a bouncy castle on the second floor. While the castle proved to be a bit too much for the twins, it was amazing to watch Adong transform from a shy, obviously traumatised young girl, into a happy, smiling child as she gained more confidence and asserted herself amongst the other children. I had been struggling to get a smile from her earlier in the day, but on the castle she suddenly began to laugh and the smile rarely left her face. It’s difficult to describe but I felt like I was witnessing someone who must feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, forget all of her problems and just be a child.

It seemed that Adong had found her castle in the sky, both literally and figuratively. How simple it seems – to just be a child. I do believe that now she has the assistance of Melissa, Mummy and Daddy, and Jolly, that she can dare to build more castles in the sky and strive for them, and now has a future to look forward to.

Here are some pictures of Adong and the twins around the house plus Adong on the castle.














Adong




















Achen tastes icecream for the first time.















Opio




















Adong on the castle

A Ugandan Experience (June 30th)

Well, what a day today was. I didn't have a lot programmed but planned to do some cleaning around the house as everyone had left for burials and had organised to meet my friend, Yusufu at his organisation - planning to only pop in, say hello and have a quick catch up.

Yusufu had other plans for the catch up and had a whole program of activities for me to participate in. His organisation has grown a lot since I was here last and his small office is now much larger than his small small office he had previously. I found him deep in the Lubaga district, in a relatively rural area of Kampala in an area that once would have shocked me with its poverty but didn't this time. Somehow my immunity to it hasn't worn off as much as I would have expected and would have liked. His organisation is a mixed batch of activities, including tailoring, crafts, childrens play program - and the two activities that I witnessed, hair weaving and cycling. The women even taught me (somehow unsuccessfully) how to do the hair weaving. It was a great experience and although it involved a lot of hanging around, it was somehow a very Ugandan visit that turned into an almost full day adventure. Here are some photos of me hair weaving plus some from around Kampala...